The family was scheduled to dine at Rosings that evening, but Elizabeth begged to stay behind. After some protestation from Mr. Collins, she was allowed to do so.
Elizabeth spent the evening in a chair by the fire. The flickering light of the flames made her headache even worse, so she turned her chair around so that she could no longer see it. As she stared out into the room, she attempted to force her mind to stop its constant attempts to make sense of her situation. It was a fruitless endeavor, because she simply did not have enough information.
About an hour after Charlotte and her family had left the house, there was a ring at the bell. Moments later the maid showed Mr. Darcy into the room. Elizabeth felt her jaw drop just a little in surprise, though it was not enough to cause her mouth to hang open like a fish.
Elizabeth had first met Mr. Darcy last autumn when he had accompanied his friend, Mr. Bingley, into her neighborhood. Though Mr. Bingley had been open and friendly, Mr. Dacy had been nearly the complete opposite, practically ignoring everyone and clearly thinking himself above his company.
Elizabeth had many reasons not to like the man. His general demeanor was only one of them. She had also heard rumors that he was not completely trustworthy. Her biggest complaint about him, however, had more to do with the way he always stared at her, obviously looking to find fault.
Since his arrival at Rosings, she had come to learn that he was held in high esteem by all his family. Even Colonel Fitzwilliam clearly liked him and seemed to trust his judgment. Since that was the case, he must have some redeeming features, but Elizabeth could not bring herself to care overmuch. She still did not like him.
Once he was in the room, he bowed and said, “I was concerned to hear that you were feeling unwell, so I determined to come see you for myself. I hope you are not in any danger or pain.”
“That was kind of you,” said Elizabeth, though inside she thought it rather ridiculous. Forcing her to deal with his unpleasant presence when she was not feeling well was the height of rudeness.
Mr. Darcy sat down and simply stared at her, almost as if he expected her to start the conversation, but she was in much too foul of a mood to concede. She did not wish to talk to the annoying man, so she would not.
After a few moments, he opened his mouth as if to speak, but he closed it before any words came out. He then shifted in his seat as if it was uncomfortable. After nearly two solid minutes of this kind of behavior, Mr. Darcy stood up and began to pace.
Elizabeth found it to be increasingly funny to see the great man so uncomfortable, but she did not laugh simply becauseshe was quite curious to know what kind of thoughts would eventually come out of his mouth.
Her curiosity was sated, and then drowned, when he said, “In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”
It was Elizabeth’s turn to open her mouth and then close it again without saying anything. Her mind, already fatigued from the confusion of the day and from little sleep the night before, could form no coherent response to such a statement.
“In declaring my feelings in no uncertain terms, I know I am going against the express wishes of all my family. I am expected to marry a lady with enough social connections to assist my sister in her search for a husband when she comes out. Furthermore, I am related to those of such a status as would be quite displeased if I were to connect them to people who are not even landed, such as your uncles.
“All these impediments have kept me from showing the fervent admiration I have developed for you. Yet, your sparkling wit, your bright beautiful eyes, your kindness, and your determination to do what you perceive is correct have worked together to weave a spell upon me, a spell strong enough to overcome all objections to our union.
“You are beautiful, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, in every possible way, and I hope you will find it in your heart to grant my most fervent desire. I beg you to relieve my suffering and agree to become my wife.”
Elizabeth was furious, confused, offended, flattered, and baffled. She could not make sense of much of what he said, because he wove so many compliments and insults together as to make it impossible to respond with any amount of rationality.Furthermore, her head hurt, and she was simply tired of thinking too much.
Her confused feelings burst out of her in the form of hysterical laughter.
It was not a pleasant little tinkling laugh, nor was it even a happy laugh. It was the kind of insane laughter that only happens when one can no longer hold in their feelings. Such confusion can only be expressed through tears or laughter, and Elizabeth was not one to cry.
She was so consumed with her laughter that she could pay no attention to how Mr. Darcy was responding, at least not in the moment. When it gradually began to fade, however, she looked up and saw pain in his face. For a moment, she felt guilty, but she quickly brushed it away. He had felt no guilt in insulting her family.
Elizabeth took a few moments to gather her thoughts as her laughter gradually faded. Oddly, her laughter had released a great deal of tension that she had been carrying. She felt much lighter and much more able to respond to the situation she found herself in. She said, “Mr. Darcy, do sit down. I am in no condition to stand at the moment, and you towering over me is hardly helpful.”
Once he was sitting, she said, “You have made a few rather critical errors, Mr. Darcy. The first is something I learned from my good friend, Charlotte. It is that if you hide your affection from the world you are also hiding it from the object of your affection. In short, I had no idea you felt this way, so I am completely unprepared to return your expressed feelings.”
Mr. Darcy made as if to speak, but Elizabeth forestalled him. “The second mistake you have made is assuming that you know everything about me, all my relations, all my connections.While it is true that I have one uncle who is a solicitor in Meryton, my uncle in London, who does indeed own multiple warehouses, is everything that is genteel. He and his wife are the most sensible people I know, far more so than many of the landed gentry I have met, including my own parents. Additionally, and I tell you this in confidence, I have other connections that are not widely known, connections that even your grand uncle, the Earl of Matlock, would not mind.”
“I cannot say much on that subject, for the connection was only recently discovered,” she continued, “but I am only pointing it out to make you see that your assumptions are not always correct, and your habit of judging people based on their station or their condition in life is faulty.”
When it was clear Elizabeth was done speaking, Mr. Darcy said, “Am I to understand that you are refusing my offer?”
“Did I not just state that I do not return your feelings?” asked Elizabeth, exasperated. “You are correct. I refuse your offer.”
Mr. Darcy nodded, though pain was once again clear on his face. “I heard you state your lack of feelings for me quite clearly. In fact, even now your words are echoing through my soul. Yet, lack of feelings is not always a reason to refuse an offer of marriage, so I needed to be certain.”
“I determined long ago that I would never marry without at least some affection and a great deal of respect,” said Elizabeth. “I have never wavered in that resolve despite having to cross my mother in doing so.”
“You have refused other offers of marriage?” asked Mr. Darcy.
“Mr. Collins,” she answered. “He proposed the day after Mr. Bingley’s ball last autumn. I am only grateful that he quicklyturned his attention to Charlotte. He was fortunate enough to find one of the few women in the world who would willingly accept him and who could possibly make him happy.”
