Courtship and Confusion Read online

  Courtship

  and

  Confusion

  An intimate Pride and Prejudice Variation

  by

  Laura Maybrick

  Prologue

  The last couple of months had been rather tumultuous ones, that much was for certain. Was it not amazing just how many things could happen in such a short amount of time?

  It had all started with Mr Bingley taking Netherfield and their introduction to the man and his sister as well as his brother in law and his friend Mr Darcy. For the Bennet-Family's peace of mind it would certainly have been better had Netherfield Park never been let, but as it was, since an acquaintance had been unavoidable, consequently hopes had been raised and squashed. While it was a truth universally acknowledged that a single man of good fortune must be in want of a wife, it seemingly was just as much truth that a man with two scheming sisters and a conceited friend would ultimately break the heart of the dearest creature ever to walk the Earth in the shape and form of Jane Bennet, the eldest of five sisters.

  But that was only part of the story. The militia had encamped at Meryton for the winter and turned many a young ladies head and Kitty and Lydia Bennet's in particular. Even their second oldest sister had not been immune to the charms of one Lieutenant George Wickham, perhaps the most eloquent and amusing man she had ever met. But again, had Elizabeth Bennet harboured any hopes of winning that man's heart, she, too would have been disappointed. It was fortunate, however, that while she had been flattered by his initial attentions, her heart had not been touched and so, seeing him turn his affections towards another had not injured her in the slightest. Just as he had always been, he still was one of the most amiable man of her acquaintance. And how could she hold it against him anyway, that he, who was without fortune or connections to further his career, now courted a young heiress? And again, it had all been down to one man, the very one who was also partly responsible for Jane's unhappiness, that Mr Wickham had been left so desolate. Mr Darcy!

  Then there had been Mr Collins, an estranged cousin of Mr Bennet who had chosen that very time to make amends by visiting Longbourn. He was but a silly man, and yet seeing that he was heir to their entailed estate, Mrs Bennet's hopes had once again been raised when he had made it perfectly clear that he intended to seek his wife among one of her daughters. It was his cousin Elizabeth whom he had chosen, and while her mother had thought him to be a perfectly suitable match for her, her daughter had thought otherwise and after, to her great dismay, having been rejected by her ungrateful child, he had gone on to marry their neighbour's daughter Charlotte Lucas instead.

  So far, so good. But since Charlotte Lucas, now Mrs Collins, happened to be Elizabeth's closest friend it was in Hunsford the young lady presently found herself, staying for a visit. And it was there that she had come across the abominable Mr Darcy once again. It was very unlucky that he should visit his aunt Lady Catherine de Bourgh just when she was staying there as well and since said lady was none other than her cousin's patroness, he could hardly be avoided. It was very vexing. The man was like a thorn in her side and as it was, it appeared as if wherever she went, he was bound to be there likewise. Had it not been for his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, it would have been close to unbearable. But at least that man treated her with courtesy and frequently called on her, if only to get away from his aunt and her rather dull daughter.

  Chapter 1

  Elizabeth was sitting by herself the next morning, and writing to Jane, while Mrs Collins and Maria were gone on business into the village, when she was startled by a ring at the door, the certain signal of a visitor. As she had heard no carriage, she thought it not unlikely to be Lady Catherine, and under that apprehension was putting away her half-finished letter that she might escape all impertinent questions, when the door opened and to her very great surprise[1] not the lady herself, but her daughter stepped into the room with more confidence than Elizabeth would have given her credit for. Anne de Bourgh, the heiress of Rosings Park had, since their first meeting, hardly ever opened her lips, and most certainly never addressed Elizabeth in person, but now she seemed to be on a mission and very determined at that.

  “Miss Bennet, I beg you excuse my intrusion, but I just now saw Mrs Collins and Miss Lucas go into Hunsford and seeing that you were not with them, I had hoped that I would find you here. It seems I have been in luck,” she smiled.

  It was the first time that Elizabeth ever saw the young lady smile and the effect was rather astonishing. Anne de Bourgh was sickly and meek and rather plain, but with a smile on her face she could almost be called pretty and her voice was surprisingly pleasant and full of warmth.

  “So it would appear,” Elizabeth all but stammered in surprise, giving a small curtsy.

  Miss de Bourgh returned it, before stretching out her hand in an almost intimate gesture.

  “You might wonder what leads me to you,” she continued calmly and with an amused expression, for having startled her opposite. “And quite rightly so. I have to say that I myself am surprised at my – well, let us call it audacity. May I sit down?”

  “Oh, yes, of course. I am so sorry, I should have...”

  “No-no, do not worry. I would have been dumbstruck likewise. Well, the reason for seeking you out is as follows: I could hardly miss that my cousin likes you very much. I have never seen him admire any woman as he does you, and having seen so much of you lately, I cannot but agree. You would suit him perfectly. There is but one problem, he is almost painfully shy, you know?” the lady carried on, sitting down on one of the chairs close to where Elizabeth had been perched only moments before.

  “He is?” Elizabeth wondered, taking place again herself.

  To her Colonel Fitzwilliam had not appeared shy in the least, and surely Miss de Bourgh could hardly mean her other cousin. After all, Mr Darcy was destined to be her own husband. Lady Catherine had made her intentions abundantly clear on more than one occasion. And while Elizabeth had never seen any particular regard for each other in either face, that of Mr Darcy or Anne de Bourgh's, it still did not mean that they did not intend to marry. Besides, it was absurd to think that Mr Darcy, of all men, would ever consider her. Not when he had frequently made his disdain for her family so very clear.

  “Yes. And that is exactly why I am here. I know I should not meddle, but I reckon with a mother such as my own, I cannot help it,” Anne answered dryly giving a small chuckle. “The problem with Fitzwilliam is, that when he is tense, he has a tendency to get very, well let us say abrasive for want of a better word, and with that, he has a knack to offend without meaning to.”

  Colonel Fitzwilliam? Elizabeth never would have thought. He seemed perfectly amiable to her. Open, relaxed, so very different from his cousin Mr Darcy as any man could possibly be, with perhaps the exception of Mr Wickham, the very man he had wronged so much and who was still as cheerful and charming as any man of her acquaintance. Though there was little doubt that the Colonel had received a higher education and had the better informed mind. Not very surprising, if one considered that he was the younger son of an earl and Wickham nothing but the son of a steward. The old Mr Darcy's steward to be more precise. If she was honest with herself, while she had enjoyed the conversations she had had with Wickham, Colonel Fitzwilliam was, while sometimes being more grave, pleasanter to talk to. But that he admired her Elizabeth never would have guessed. Perhaps Miss de Bourgh had a point. Perhaps he was shy in regards to openly showing his feelings. Not many men tended to wear their hearts in their sleeves, thinking about it.

  “I can see you are surprised, Miss Bennet,” her musings were interrupted by her visitor. “And perhaps a little bewildered. One should not think that a man who has lived in the world would be s
o socially awkward and sometimes downright clumsy with the ladies, but alas, I fear my cousin is a hopeless case in that regard. But let me assure you, that you would never find a better man anywhere in the world. And since I cannot be certain of your own feelings, all I mean to do is ask you to hear him out, for I am almost convinced that he will manage to make a right mess of things.”

  “I... - I thank you, Miss de Bourgh,” Elizabeth replied, hardly knowing what to say.

  It appeared as if the young lady was almost certain that her cousin would make her an offer and while Elizabeth was flattered by the prospect, she was not at all sure about her own feelings on the matter, just as Anne de Bourgh had suspected. It was all so very confusing. So vague. So unlikely even. There had never been any sign of Colonel Fitzwilliam's particular regard for her. It had more appeared as if he was courteous in general. Thinking about it, he treated Charlotte and Maria just the same. But then again, if he really was shy and not prone to show his true feelings...

  “Pleasure. But I fear I will have to go now, or Mrs Jenkinson will wonder what has happened to me and then my mother will... - Well, you have met her. I presume you can imagine what would follow. It was quite a feat already to persuade my companion that perhaps she should join your cousin in visiting the sick, leaving me to my own devices. - But as said, please hear my cousin out and give him a chance. That is all I am asking. You know, he is very dear to me and I want nothing more than to see him happy at last. And having observed you over the past few weeks, I think you are exactly the one woman who would do so.”

  With that Anne de Bourgh got up, smiled warmly one last time before her face resumed her usual resigned almost passive expression and after another curtsey, she left.

  Completely bewildered Elizabeth sat back down at the writing table in the corner. She was almost tempted to pinch herself to see whether she had fallen asleep and been dreaming. And what a weird dream it would have been. However, no matter how much she tried to finish her letter to Jane now, it was to no avail. Elizabeth's thoughts were miles away, but thinking about it, some things started to make sense. So that was the reason why Mr Darcy had looked at her so thoroughly, why he sought her out on her walks, to see whether she would be a suitable choice for his cousin.

  She could not help wondering to what conclusion he had come. If he thought Jane to be unsuitable for his friend, it was highly unlikely that he would think her a good match for the son of an earl. Then again, Colonel Fitzwilliam would surely not be led this easily by his advice or any advice given purely out of spite and Anne had certainly appeared as if she approved of the match. What Lady Catherine thought of it, was yet another matter and then there was still the question what she herself thought of all this.

  While she esteemed the man, liked him very much and enjoyed his company, Elizabeth had to admit that in love with him she was not. It was almost laughable that the only men to ever consider marrying her were the ones she felt nothing for but regard and sometimes not even that, if she thought of Mr Collins' clumsy proposal. But then again, it had been easy enough to reject her cousin's advances, while thinking of rejecting a man she valued highly and esteemed much, gave her some unease. And yet, it that was what she would have to do, for though he was certainly a good match the one thing Elizabeth had always known was, that she could never marry a man she did not also love.

  Chapter 2

  It was in this state of mind that Charlotte found her, still sitting at the writing table, her letter unfinished before her. And while Elizabeth normally greatly valued her friend's power of observation, this time, it was most inconvenient, for no sooner had Mrs Collins taken off her bonnet and put it on the side board along her reticule, that she asked with some concern in her voice: “What is the matter, Eliza? Has something happened while Maria and I have been away? You do look pale, dear friend.”

  “It is nothing, I assure you,” Elizabeth replied, trying to sound cheerful, but failing.

  “Have you had any news from Longbourn? Has someone taken ill?”

  “No, it is not that, Charlotte, I just had...” she trailed off.

  Well, perhaps telling the truth was best in this instance. And maybe Charlotte could make sense of the whole matter.

  “It is just that I had a very unexpected visitor and said visitor left me slightly bewildered.”

  “A visitor?”

  “Yes, Miss de Bourgh came by.”

  “Now that is definitely reason to be bewildered,” Charlotte laughed. “I most certainly would have been. While she stops frequently at my door, as yet I had not yet had the honour of welcoming her in my home. It would appear as if she has taken a liking to you.”

  “I could not possibly say, but as it appears, she seems to think me a suitable match for her cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

  “Colonel Fitzwilliam? Are you quite sure?”

  “Yes, I am she said as much. She spoke of her cousin Fitzwilliam and that apparently he has taken a liking to me. So who else could she mean?” Elizabeth replied, suddenly unsettled.

  If only Jane were here, it would not be so very awkward to ask for advice. Not when she felt so very foolish already.

  “Oh, is that so? Do you not know that... - Well, never mind. It was just a stray thought, and a silly one at that,” Charlotte startled before asking: “And what do you intend to do?”

  “I quite honestly do not know. And at any rate, I know you will scold me for my foolishness when I declare that I could not possibly marry a man I do not love, no matter how eligible he is.”

  “There you are quite correct. I would. But Eliza, are you certain that it was the Colonel Miss de Bourgh spoke about?”

  “Yes, as I already told you, she explicitly said to me that her cousin Fitzwilliam has taken a liking to me and that I would hardly find a better man than him. Now that can surely only apply to the Colonel, can it not? But as much as I am inclined to think she might be correct, how could I marry a man like this, loving me so dearly while not loving him in turn?”

  “Well, love might come in time...” Mrs Collins replied thoughtfully.

  “But should it not be there to begin with?”

  Shaking her head in slight exasperation, instead of answering, Charlotte rang the bell to order them some tea before finally speaking again.

  “All I the advice I can give at the moment is, that you should give it a chance. Perhaps you will find that you already are in love without knowing. Perhaps a walk will help you clear your mind. Does it not always?”

  While her friend's first advice was too vague to pay it much heed, and her head was too much in a turmoil to properly examine her emotions, the latter advice was a sound one. Yes, a walk usually made her see clearer and so, Elizabeth set out to ramble around until it was time to change for dinner. A dinner that once again would be taken at Rosings. It was unfortunate that today of all days, they had been asked to come over and join the family when since her nephews arrival two weeks since, Lady Catherine had been perfectly satisfied with her own family circle.

  But anyway, with that, it was absolutely necessary to make sense of her own feelings and act accordingly. Was it even possible that unwittingly she had given the colonel hope? The thought was unbearable. But no, if, Miss de Bourgh would not have said that she was not at all certain whether Elizabeth returned his feelings and that all she asked on behalf of her cousin was to hear him out.

  In some distance she saw both Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr Darcy ride slowly through the park, appearing as if they were deep in conversation. Was the colonel just now acquainting his cousin with his intentions? As it was, the former spoke so animatedly that on occasion he irritated his horse as he gesticulated with seeming exasperation while his cousin's expression she could not possibly make out, though he, as always, gave the impression of being rather stoic, distant even. That was, until he spurred on his horse and dashed away in what Elizabeth assumed was anger.

  It would appear that Mr Darcy was not quite as open as Miss de Bourgh when it came to
his relative marrying her. Not that it was much of a surprise. But as it was, her resolution was thus formed. She would have to reject Colonel Fitzwilliam. Even had she loved him, and especially then, she could and would never leave him to the contempt of his closest relatives and after all, there was reason to assume that neither his father nor his aunt would approve of her. No, it had to be. It would but hurt a short while. Or at least so Elizabeth hoped. And with that, her thoughts returned to poor unhappy Jane, her unfinished letter and ultimately much safer ground.

  Chapter 3

  “Darcy, would you care for a ride?” his cousin cheerfully inquired, already dressed in his riding breeches and boots. “After this morning's rain, I would say the air is nice and fresh and just the thing one needs before dinner. Do you not agree?”

  As it was, Darcy did agree very much. Even his cousin Anne had gone out for a little drive in her Phaeton, and he had just escaped his aunt trying to convince him for the umpteenth time to marry her daughter. Whenever she caught him alone, this was her foremost concern, and while he could not fault her for that, it was most tedious and increasingly difficult to convince her that at present he had no intentions to marry. Especially since the latter was not necessarily true. It was just that while he liked his cousin very much, and got along with her pretty well, both had long since agreed that they would be a very unsuitable match. However, as yet neither of them had been brave enough to tell her Ladyship as much, hoping moreover that eventually she would cease to speak of the topic herself. While this was perhaps not the most realistic of hopes, it was still better than Lady Catherine pestering Anne in the aftermath of such a declaration. Her ire could carry on literally forever, especially if she felt ill used and betrayed as certainly would be the case. She was not a woman to be gainsaid, and one had to tread with care whether one happened to be a relative or tenant.