Compromised Read online

  Compromised

  A Pride and Prejudice Variation Novella

  Cressida Lane

  Contents

  Untitled

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Untitled

  More than once did Elizabeth in her ramble within the park unexpectedly meet Mr. Darcy. She felt all the perverseness of the mischance that should bring him where no one else was brought; and to prevent its ever happening again, took care to inform him at first that it was a favourite haunt of hers. How it could occur a second time therefore was very odd! Yet it did, and even a third. It seemed like wilful ill nature, or a voluntary penance, for on these occasions it was not merely a few formal inquiries and an awkward pause and then away, but he actually thought it necessary to turn back and walk with her. He never said a great deal, nor did she give herself the trouble of talking or of listening much; but it struck her in the course of their third recontre that he was asking some odd unconnected questions -- about her pleasure in being at Hunsford, her love of solitary walks, and her opinion of Mr. and Mrs. Collins's happiness; and that in speaking of Rosings and her not perfectly understanding the house he seemed to expect that whenever she came into Kent again she would be staying there too. His words seemed to imply it. Could he have Colonel Fitzwilliam in his thoughts? She supposed, if he meant anything, he must mean an allusion to what might arise in that quarter. It distressed her a little, and she was quite glad to find herself at the gate in the pales opposite the parsonage.

  Chapter 1

  The fourth such occurrence brought more than just the displeasure of his company.

  Elizabeth Bennet had been obliged to wait out a storm beneath an enormous sycamore tree. The time was not unpleasantly spent. She rather enjoyed the moment of solitude despite the rain. Elizabeth was reflecting on her sister Jane's last letter when the sudden sound of snapping branches drew her attention.

  A cloaked figure came into view, startling her; Elizabeth shrieked aloud.

  "Miss Bennet," said the figure, holding out a hand toward her. "Forgive me, I did not mean to alarm you." The man removed his hat.

  "Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth, catching her breath. She was relieved to find it was only he, though not entirely pleased to have encountered him on her walk yet again. "I thought for certain you would have relinquished your rambles today in deference to the rain." Indeed, the only reason Elizabeth had ventured out despite the threatening weather was rooted in that very idea.

  "I would you had thought the same," he said. "I called at Hunsford and Mrs. Collins informed me you had set off on your own quite a long time ago."

  "Not so very long," said Elizabeth. "And as you see, I am well."

  "Quite." After the first moment of their greeting, Mr. Darcy had fixed his gaze on the tree just past her left shoulder and had not yet once removed it. Elizabeth found it vexing and could not understand why, nor did she understand the silence that followed to be anything but an imposition on her solitary reverie.

  "Did Mrs. Collins ask you to come look for me?" asked Elizabeth. Charlotte had hinted more than once that Mr. Darcy's interest was too marked to be the polite attention of a passing acquaintance, but Elizabeth had dismissed the notion out of hand. Charlotte was clever enough to bestir circumstance, though, should the opportunity present itself and Elizabeth suspected this was precisely such a case.

  Elizabeth loved her friend dearly, but Charlotte would answer for this.

  "Mrs. Collins did ask me," said Mr. Darcy. "But I would have come looking for you myself had she not done so."

  At that proclamation Elizabeth began to laugh, amused at the notion. "Whyever so, Mr. Darcy? Did you fear I'd perish in a rain shower?"

  "There have been reports of highwaymen not far from here, Miss Bennet," said Mr. Darcy, his voice rather more stern than it had been before. "You would do well remain in company on your walks in the future."

  "I see," she said. He did not respond for a long moment.

  "It is hardly customary to laugh at the goodwill of a friend, Miss Bennet. I wonder that you should sneer at Mrs. Collins’s concern for your well-being."

  Elizabeth remembered at once a conversation with Miss Caroline Bingley; she'd warned that Mr. Darcy was not to be teased. Her mirth diminished at the memory, but only somewhat.

  "We have established that my being is quite well, Mr. Darcy. Allow me to thank you for your concern. You may certainly return to the house and report as much to all and sundry."

  "You mean, return alone? To leave you here?"

  "Yes, sir."

  He looked at her then, disbelief in his eyes. His color rose quickly, and he returned his gaze to the tree.

  "Miss Bennet, I cannot in good conscience leave you to fend for yourself in these woods under these circumstances. Now may I please offer you my coat?"

  "Your coat? Whatever for?"

  "Miss Elizabeth..."

  Mr. Darcy appeared unable to complete his thought.

  "I understand your concern for my health, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth, though she did not.

  "It is not my concern for your health that prompts my offer." His reply was curt and not a little harsh. "The rain has rendered your clothing all but transparent, and it is my belief that you would not wish to be seen in a state of such dishabille."

  Mr. Darcy still would not look at her as he spoke. Elizabeth looked down to discover that his assessment was indeed correct. She’d fled the walls of Hunsford in search of air, foregoing a cloak, scoffing at the gathering clouds in a small act of defiance. The pale fabric of her gown and the garments beneath it were wet through, clinging to every curve and hollow of her torso.

  “I see you are correct,” said Elizabeth, her own color rising. “I am sorry. I would accept the offer of your coat.” He removed the garment, holding it for her as well as any trained valet.

  “You need not apologize, Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Darcy once her whole self was covered and warmed by his coat. He found he could look at her now with some ease, and though he disliked to have brought her any discomfort, he noted the color in her cheeks brightened her eyes considerably. Mr. Darcy’s intentions were of the highest nature, but in a small moment he let himself wonder what other exertions might bring such light to her complexion.

  “Will you permit me to escort you back to the house?” he asked. “Mrs. Collins will be looking for us, I think.”

  “I daresay she will,” said Elizabeth, taking his arm as he led her from the shelter of the tree. The rain had abated briefly; only a fine mist impeded their progress. There was little left of the humor in her voice, but she recovered herself presently. “I hope you will forgive Mrs. Collins.”

  “Mrs. Collins gives no offense whatsoever,” Mr. Darcy replied neutrally. “She is among the most forbearing women of my acquaintance and has all my respect.”

  “I take your meaning, sir, and as her friend I thank you,” said Elizabeth, for Mr. Collins could be no easy partner, not for any woman. “But you see, for all her forbearance, Mrs. Collins has a working mind.”

  “If she is to be called your friend, I should expect nothing less,” said Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth looked up at him in some surprise but his countenance admitted nothing, his eyes trained on the path before them. Her consternation at being found by him, and his being witness to the state of her dress, and that he must think her such a nuisance all welled up within her, begging that he be provoked in return.

  “Mrs. Collins is of the opinion that your continued presence at Rosings and, more specifically, our repeated
meetings here stem from your silent desire of me. What say you to that?”

  Mr. Darcy stopped walking. Elizabeth let slip her hand from his arm and continued on as though no change had occurred.

  “I have assured her this is most certainly not the case. Rather, I’ve informed her of my own guess; that you remain at the behest of your friend and cousin, the most agreeable Colonel Fitzwilliam, who has professed his fondest admiration for me and who seeks to win my hand by his continued presence here, therefore insisting upon your own.” Elizabeth stopped on the path then, keeping her smile contained and polite, with the barest hint of teasing. “What do you think, Mr. Darcy? Will you dash the hopes of Mrs. Collins and give life to my own?”

  Mr. Darcy did not speak for a moment, and when he did his voice was dark.

  “You entertain hopes for my cousin, then?”

  “Now that is no answer at all,” cried Elizabeth.

  “It is not.” Mr. Darcy advanced in her direction, compelling Elizabeth to take a step backward. He continued until she found herself backed against the trunk of another large sycamore, sheltered from the now drizzling rain but held captive by the anger in Mr. Darcy’s face. “Answer my question, if you please.”

  Elizabeth felt the coat slipping from her shoulders; she and Mr. Darcy reached as one to pull it back into place.

  “Miss Bennet, what in Heaven’s name are you doing?”

  Chapter 2

  The voice seemed to come from a distance but Elizabeth recognized it as the last one she wished to hear at that moment.

  Or indeed, at any moment.

  Mr. Darcy stepped back to establish a polite distance, but the damage was done. Mr. Collins advanced upon them.

  “Of all the impertinent impositions! Mr. Darcy, I am deeply sorry for my cousin’s unseemly behavior. For Elizabeth to have forced her attentions upon you, as she so obviously must have done—“

  “Miss Bennet has done nothing of the sort,” said Mr. Darcy, his voice now black with warning even as thunder rumbled in the distance. Mr. Collins did not notice.

  “But Mr. Darcy… you understand… I am very sorry, sir, but it is my duty as a clergyman… sir, you must see…”

  “You are suggesting I have been compromised,” said Elizabeth, understanding the mind of Mr. Collins well enough to interpret his stammer.

  “Indeed,” said Mr. Collins, who flushed to the roots of his hair at the very word. “Yes, indeed, cousin, and I am most ashamed of you for it. What will your father say? And your poor mother and sisters. Yes, there is much to be done if we are to preserve what is left of your reputation. And Lady Catherine… Oh, dear.” Mr. Collins felt the pain of Elizabeth’s transgressions fully, though as a clergyman he could scarcely imagine what they might have been.

  The four servants who’d arrived on the heels of Mr. Collins paid testimony to his account of the event, and though no wrong had been committed by either party, Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy found themselves a short time later in conference with Mr. Darcy’s aunt, the distinguished Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

  Lady Catherine had heretofore borne the presence of Miss Elizabeth Bennet with as much good humor as she bestowed on anyone and thought her a pleasant enough diversion for her rector’s wife. Miss Bennet had proven to be an interesting if occasionally disruptive dinner guest, but allowances were made given the short duration of her expected stay. When Mr. Collins insisted Lady Catherine be made aware of Miss Bennet’s disgrace behavior involving her own nephew, all Lady Catherine’s tolerant good feelings about the younger person were vanquished.

  “Young woman, I know not what manner of upbringing might have lowered you to this level of insupportable behavior but that you should seek to ensnare my nephew by such means speaks volumes to it.”

  “Lady Catherine, I must intercede; Miss Bennet has done nothing,” said Mr. Darcy.

  “No? You know I am always loathe to correct you, Fitzwilliam. However, you are wrong. This… this upstart has seen my fortune, she has heard tales of your own, and now she seeks to claim that wealth as her own by trapping you as her husband.”

  “Lady Catherine, I’m afraid we must not delay,” interrupted Mr. Collins. He felt most keenly his duty as clergyman in this, the most grievous of circumstances. He felt the burden of his responsibility to restore his poor, lost cousin back to a state of good grace. It was so strongly felt that even the sternest glares from Lady Catherine went unnoticed. “Miss Bennet and Mr. Darcy must be married, as soon as possible.”

  “We can perhaps find an alternate solution. Besides, it will take time to procure a license, Mr. Collins,” said Lady Catherine.

  “Not at all, Lady Catherine, for I have taken the liberty of sending a message to the local magistrate,” replied Mr. Collins. “He has promised to present the records here at Rosings for consideration this very evening.”

  If there was an air of violence in the room, Mr. Collins was incognizant.

  “You have said nothing to defend yourself, young woman,” said Lady Catherine to Elizabeth.

  “My sentence appears to have been handed down, my lady,” said Elizabeth. “Therefore I can have nothing to say that might alter its terms.”

  “You might begin with an apology!”

  “I know not what act I’ve committed that requires one,” said Elizabeth. “Save for disturbing your tea. For that I am truly, very sorry.”

  “Intractable girl! I do not suffer fools, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, nor do I suffer those who would make me out to be one. I will have your apology.”

  “You have it already, my lady.” Lady Catherine seized up, preparing another attack when Mr. Darcy intervened.

  “Miss Bennet, may I speak with you a moment? As it appears we are to be married tomorrow, no one might say there is anything inappropriate in the action,” said Mr. Darcy. His request and subsequent assertion silenced the room at once.

  Elizabeth accepted his arm and walked with him to a far corner of the room.

  “You wished to speak to me, sir?” she asked on their arrival. The others were now too far to hear them speak and resumed their own conversation in heated tones.

  “I wished only to silence the general cacophony for a moment.”

  “I see,” said Elizabeth. She made no further attempt at conversation.

  “My aunt is correct in one way, Miss Bennet. You have had very little to say since we returned from the park,” said Mr. Darcy, the uncharacteristic withdrawal of her opinion making him uneasy.

  “Would my opinion on this matter hold any sway, with you or Lady Catherine or, heaven help us, Mr. Collins?”

  “It would with me, madam.” Mr. Darcy knew not how he might correct the course of his earlier rash actions, but for her he would endeavor to try.

  “My thoughts count for nothing in this, Mr. Darcy, as well you know. Even now, the servant dispatched by my helpful cousin is likely informing my parents of my misbehavior. They will rush to see their good name restored by my too-hasty marriage to man who would otherwise not have me. The magistrate is preparing his letters. The clergyman is on tenterhooks, champing at the bit to play his part.” Elizabeth paused as her voice grew unsteady.

  “My sisters will not be permitted to attend, nor any friend save Mrs. Collins, and she only in the role of a rector’s wife. So you see, Mr. Darcy, my circumstances are quite fixed. And as nothing I say can repair what is lost, I can have nothing to say at all.”

  With this, Elizabeth burst into tears and excused herself from the room.

  Chapter 3

  Lady Catherine took the opportunity of Elizabeth’s absence to abuse her person to all and sundry, never minding that the rector was among her relatives. She articulated at length Miss Bennet’s less desirable qualities, with special attention to how mean a wife she would prove to be when compared with Lady Catherine’s own daughter.

  Mr. Collins endeavored to agree with her every point, but finding himself confused by his own past actions -namely that of proposing to Elizabeth Bennet himself only a fe
w months ago- he lapsed into silence. Anne de Bourgh privately mourned the loss of a prospective husband, but had nothing to say on the matter.

  Mr. Darcy excused himself from the drawing room almost immediately on Elizabeth’s exit, citing the mountain of preparation that must be made to accommodate his future wife. His thoughts snagged every time they encountered that word wife, as it made him recall Miss Bennet as she looked in the park. Each time he banished the image with a stern reminder that the lady was not yet his wife, and was not keen to the prospect thereof. He attended the business of informing his staff to prepare Pemberley for their arrival, and her quarters specifically. It was a stroke of luck that Georgiana would be traveling these next several weeks with friends. Miss Bennet would have some time to adjust to her surroundings and Mr. Darcy himself would be able to attend her acclimation.

  The next morning brought no comfort to Elizabeth save the information that her parents had arrived at Hunsford. The wedding was to be held at noon, and after a small celebratory lunch -most begrudgingly given by Lady Catherine de Bourgh- the newly-wed couple would depart for Pemberley.

  Mrs. Bennet‘s confusion was powerful indeed. On one hand, her dear Lizzy’s marriage was a triumph of the highest magnitude; Mr. Darcy had ten thousand a year, after all, and so very much of Derbyshire besides. But the man was so very odious, and had nothing of love in his countenance whatsoever, not even during the wedding itself, which Mrs. Bennet found unconscionable.

  Mr. Bennet was confused, too, but not by his feelings. Mr. Collins’s letter had been loquacious as ever but offered very few facts. Mr. Bennet’s daughter was white-faced, more so than any bride he’d ever seen, and she seemed to be unmoved by the proceedings, which he suspected was unusual under the circumstances.