Disdain, Agony, Hope, and Love #Wattys2020

Chapter 24

Darcy stormed out the Hunsford Parsonage, his mind reeling. The events of the last few minutes were too unbelievable to comprehend. A rejection! His proposal of marriage to Elizabeth had been rejected!! But that wasn't the only shock. More astonishing were Elizabeth's reasons for refusing him.

He felt a rush of anger at being humiliated by the woman he - no used to - love. As he walked towards Rosings, he thought over her words.

Was he proud and arrogant? Elizabeth was the sharpest lady he had ever met and it was worth at least considering her words. He reviewed his manner of proposal and winced. Upon reflection she seemed to describe him very well. Her words rang in his ears.

You are the last man in the world whom I could ever marry. Did you think any consideration would tempt me? Your arrogance, you conceit and your selfish disdain for the feelings of others. Darcy leapt up the steps to the house then slowed. My opinion of you was decided when I heard Mr Wickham's story of your dealings with him.

"Well, at least in that I may defend myself," he muttered aloud. It was actually the only thing that he could find fault with. Everything else Elizabeth had said of him was looking fairly accurate.

Darcy winced when he remembered what he had said to her.

Did you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your connections? To congratulate myself on the hope of relations whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?

When one thought about it, if that was the way he had treated her during their acquaintance, perhaps her opinion of him wasn't so surprising. Darcy stood in the doorway, unwilling to go further where his relations were talking.

But Elizabeth's last rebuke - oh that stung like nothing else she said did.

You are mistaken, Mr Darcy. The mode of your declaration merely spared me the concern I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner.

But not everything she said was correct, he thought. She has misunderstood - or has perhaps been misinformed about Wickham, and as for Bingley . . .

"Who's there?" demanded his aunt from the sitting-room. Darcy turned and saw his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam walking to greet him.

"Darcy, we quite despaired of you - " began he before he was interrupted by Lady Catherine saying,

"Is that my nephew? Where have you been? Let him come in and see me!"

Company was the last thing Darcy wanted at the moment. He needed solitude to think over what had just happened and nurse his wounded pride.

"No, if you will forgive me . . . . you will forgive me . . . " he said absently. He started up the stairs towards his room.

"Darcy, you are unwell?" inquired the Colonel.

"I am very well, thank you. I . . . I have a pressing matter of business to attend to . . . . " He resumed his ascent. "Make my apologies to Lady Catherine, Fitzwilliam." He quickly climbed the stairs, went to his chamber and locked the door.

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He flung his hat and walking stick into a corner and took a deep breath. Though Miss Bennet's assessment of him had probably been accurate, there were some things that he could explain. His dealings with Bingley and Wickham were the accusations he could defend himself against.

I cannot face her, not after this evening. I doubt she would be even willing to listen to me.

But he would have to swallow his pride and tell her the truth no matter what.