Rearranged~ by Jen
Colonel Fitzwilliam’s manners were very much admired at the parsonage, and the ladies all felt that he must add considerably to the pleasure of their engagements at Rosings. However, Lady Catherine was too preoccupied with her nephews’ appearance at that great estate to pay the Hunsford party any notice for at least a week, so Elizabeth did not see the either the Colonel or Mr. Darcy unless they called at the parsonage.
One fine day, she was walking and perusing Jane’s last letter, when she found herself at the gate in the pales opposite the parsonage. Her lucubrations on a passage were quite focused; they proved that Jane had not written in spirits. She was surprised to look up and see Colonel Fitzwilliam walking toward her. She put the letter away immediately and forced a smile.
“I did not know that you ever walked this way.”
“I have been making the tour of the park,” he replied, “as I generally do every year, and intended to close it with a call at the parsonage. Are you going much farther?”
“No, I should have turned in a moment.” And accordingly she did turn and they walked towards the parsonage together.
“Have you had a pleasant stay with your aunt?” she asked.
Colonel Fitzwilliam smiled. “Yes, we must pay our yearly visit to our aunt. Both Darcy and I would have preferred a bigger party to accompany us, but his sister can not leave London at this time, and his friend, Mr. Bingley, could not come, neither. I believe I have heard you say that you know Mr. Bingley.”
“Yes, I know him a little. He is a pleasant gentleman-like man. Mr. Darcy takes a prodigious deal of care of him,” Elizabeth remarked dryly.
“Care of him! – Yes, I believe Darcy does take care of him in those points where he most wants care.” And with this, Colonel Fitzwilliam disclosed to Elizabeth how Darcy had saved Bingley from a most imprudent marriage – how there were strong objections against the lady, and Darcy had used unknown arts to separate the star-crossed lovers.
Elizabeth’s blood boiled. She expressed disgust with Mr. Darcy’s officiousness, which Colonel Fitzwilliam brushed aside by calling Mr. Darcy’s successful disjuncture “triumphant”. Elizabeth found other innocuous subject matter to discuss until which time they reached the parsonage and she could meditate on the knowledge.
When Lady Catherine finally remembered to pay attention to her parson and his guests, they were quite honored. The invitation was accepted of course, and they joined the party in Lady Catherine’s drawing room. Her ladyship received them civilly, but it was plain that their company was by no means so acceptable as when she could get nobody else; and she was, in fact, almost engrossed by her nephews, speaking to them, especially to Darcy, much more than to any other person in the room.
Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed really glad to see them; any thing was a welcome relief to him at Rosings; and Mrs. Collins’s pretty friend had moreover caught his fancy very much. He talked with her most of the evening. He asked her to play an air for him, and she sat down directly to the instrument. He drew a chair near her. Mr. Darcy followed his cousin and stationed himself so as to command a full view of the fair performer’s countenance. Elizabeth ignored him as best she could, until he remarked to her that she played very well.
She turned a page in her music and tried not to make an unladylike snort as a response. “Though I suppose you would not call me as accomplished as your sister,” she remarked.
Darcy looked amused. “My sister does play very well, Miss Bennet, but in a different style. You have a light touch with the keys, and fine taste in choosing songs. I would indeed call you accomplished.”
She knew not what to make of his compliment. “You flatter me, Mr. Darcy. You speak high praise of me indeed.” She turned to Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Colonel Fitzwilliam, I have heard how pleasantly your cousin talks of me. However, I could be unkind and tell you of his behavior in Hertfordshire.”
“I am not afraid of you,” said Darcy, smilingly.
“Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of,” cried Colonel Fitzwilliam. “I should like to know how he behaves among strangers!”
“He made more enemies than friends, I am afraid. Most of the town was disgusted with his pride and arrogance.” Mr. Darcy’s nostrils flared, but he said nothing in his own defense. “He snubbed and insulted almost all of my friends, and it would seem that my own family was not above his affronts.”
Mr. Darcy took a seat on the opposite side of Elizabeth. “Miss Bennet, why do you adumbrate my character so? I also took pleasure in dancing with you at Mr. Bingley’s ball. What is the cause for this insult?”
Colonel Fitzwilliam realized that he was in the midst of a most uncomfortable disagreement, and left the pair to argue amongst themselves.
Elizabeth lowered her voice. “I might ask you, Mr. Darcy, why you insist on joking and bantering with me, when my dislike of you is so evident. You were a conceited person in Hertfordshire, but here you are all teasing and flattery? If you had any consideration for my feelings, you would speak to Lady Catherine instead of me and leave me alone.”
Mr. Darcy looked pale with anger. “And my mulct for angering you is to be banished from your presence? I do not even know the charges of which I am accused, aside from my pride. Have I done something to offend you?”
Elizabeth played some basic scales and chords to mask the disagreement to the rest of the room. “Mr. Darcy, surely you must know that I did not hold you in the highest regard. But even if I thought you a saint, do you think that any consideration would tempt me to act civilly to a man who has been the means of ruining, perhaps forever, the happiness of a most beloved sister?”
As she pronounced these words, Mr. Darcy changed color; but the emotion was short, and he listened without attempting to interrupt her while she continued.
Elizabeth continued, “Do you deny that you have been the principal, if not the only means of dividing them from each other? That you have exposed one to the censure of the world for caprice and instability, the other to its derision for disappointed hopes?”
She paused, and he looked at her with a smile of affected incredulity.
With assumed tranquility he then replied, “I have no wish of denying that I did everything in my power to separate my friend from your sister, or that I rejoice in my success.”
Elizabeth stopped playing; her anger was too great. “From the moment Mr. Wickham unfolded your character upon me, I have known that you were a selfish, unfeeling human being. You have deprived him of the living he was to have taken, and you have gone against your father’s wishes. I can only look down upon your actions as deplorable and scandalous, and I hope you get what you deserve very soon.”
Mr. Darcy opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment they were interrupted by Lady Catherine, who called out to know what they were talking of. Elizabeth walked away to sit by Charlotte and calm down, but Darcy excused himself and went out onto the balcony.
Mr. Darcy wrote Elizabeth a letter, as his feelings were hurt by her accusations but not diminished. He knew he needed to rectify her opinion of his past. He longed to have her as a friend, not an enemy, and knew that if she only knew the truth, she would be able to see his goodness and not be so angered by his presence.
Once he had written the letter, Darcy resolved to set things right. He tried to set his pride aside when talking to others, and spent several hours pondering how he might justify the connection between his friend and Miss Bennet.
When next the party came to dinner at Rosings, Darcy waited until Elizabeth was alone. He sat in a chair near her.
“Miss Bennet, please let me apologize for breaching propriety and writing to you. I did not know if I could trust myself to explain what I wrote properly in person.”
“I am glad you did,” she replied, looking at the floor. “I have read it several times with great wonderment. I have wondered how I could have been so blinded by prejudice. I forgot that every story has two sides.”
Darcy nodded. “I honestly did not believe your sister would be so hurt. I apologize.”
She looked at him and then looked down again. “Do you think he will return to Netherfield?”
Darcy paused. “I think that, if he saw a reason to return, he might certainly go back. Do you think the neighborhood misses his company?”
She smiled. “Yes, I think the neighborhood might miss him. My mother can attest that he still has a dinner invitation.”
Darcy breathed a sigh of relief. He believed he was on the road to making reparations. For some odd reason, he wanted Elizabeth in his life. Her friendship was priceless, and the thought that he could have lost her good opinion forever frightened him.
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