A Gentleman's Mistake Read online

  MARLEY FULTON

  www.marleyfulton.com

  A GENTLEMAN`S MISTAKE

  A PRIDE AND PREJUDICE VARIATION

  © 2019 MARLEY FULTON. All rights reserved.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter One

  There was an insufferable cold - practically clawing away the very breath from Fitzwilliam Darcy’s throat as he strolled through the meadow. The typically mild warmth of the season had been unpleasantly disrupted by the unwelcome advancing of what he knew would be a terribly unkind winter. It was the sort of cold that sent most people into a frenzy and, had he not been preoccupied with other disheartening thoughts, Darcy might have succumbed to the same loss of sanity that afflicted all the other gentleman and ladies within Hertfordshire. A man of few words at a time like this, Darcy found himself driven to stroll – as if the action itself might bring some solace to his otherwise tortured mind. An interesting place to find himself in, because never had he imagined Elizabeth Bennet would court the likes of someone even slightly similar to Archibald Bingley. It was perfectly appalling to him. Even so, he could not understand why it bothered him as much as it did for his feelings for Elizabeth had been completely overshadowed by her family’s lack of fortune. And lack of manners. And lack of decorum. And of everything else that he expected in the family of a woman to whom he would ever intend to bond. Darcy found himself facing an odd situation. He admitted to himself his keen admiration for Miss Bennet, although she was most certainly not a fitting bride. A perplexing dilemma, because he could not deny his heart was smitten almost from the beginning of their acquaintance, nor could he imagine any circumstances that would allow him to pursue courting Miss Bennet. She was simply not the proper choice for the future Mrs. Darcy.

  The penetrable cold, paired with his laborious walking, had already given cause to beads of sweat rising on his brow, prompting Darcy to reach into his pocket for a kerchief. He lifted the corner and gently dabbed it against his forehead sighing as he continued to stride on. The sun seemed to dip behind the leaves as he walked through the trees and nearing a wide trunk, Darcy leaned against.

  “And, like a deranged madman you wander through the woods hoping to lessen the turmoil, and yet nothing truly changes,” he muttered, pushing off the trunk to the crunch of leaves beneath his feet. There was much to consider, but even so, Darcy’s mind continued to wander back to the source of his intolerable suffering. What in God’s name was happening to him? How was it possible that he could fall into such a pit of despair – unable to do anything but imagine ways to find himself in her presence? To watch her from afar as she entertained and flirted as if she had no sense of etiquette within any of her bones?

  ***

  “Lizzy?” Her mother’s voice called after her, but Elizabeth made no effort to listen. The day had started out most unusual with an unexpected visit of her cousin, Mr. Collins. But it was his incessant rambling that truly unnerved the second Miss Bennet. Even so, she knew that remaining civil as her mother so often wished her to be would require putting distance between herself and her insistent cousin. Hearing her voice in the distance compelled Elizabeth to grab her coat, gloves, and bonnet with a hurried gait as she stepped outdoors.

  Admittedly, Elizabeth should have suspected Mr. Collins inevitable request for betrothal. He had doted upon her a great deal more than usual and her mother had been awfully encouraging of his advances. She wondered if there were anything she could have done to have discouraged Mr. Collins’ pursuits only to realize that a woman had few choices when it came to proper determents. How could she eliminate such uncomfortable instances from her life? Worse yet, it seemed that Mr. Collins was the sort of man who only understood what he desired to understand.

  Her mind flashed back to the evening of the ball. It had been a night of grueling disappointment. An appalling display of Mary’s performance, and worse yet, her mother’s indiscretion with discussing Jane and Mr. Bingley. And both Kitty and Lydia’s incessant coquettish behavior had been far more humiliating than she had expected. Her father didn’t even seem to be concerned in the least with any of the improper behaviors displayed, indicating a tolerance that wasn’t socially advisable, let alone acceptable. And all of this only brought up more concerns for Lizzy, particularly when Mr. Darcy chose to dance with her at the ball. Elizabeth could scarcely control her anger from the rising shock of it all.

  Having walked some distance from Longbourn now, she slowed her pace and leisurely began to stride through the fields. The stroll and the destination were a brief respite from the pressing and stifling wishes of her parents. Long and tedious, such were the days of Elizabeth’s life and though the stroll had brought a brief pause in conflict, Elizabeth knew she needed to head back to the house.

  Sauntering back around the trees, Elizabeth spotted the silvery reflection of light on the pond. The same pond she and her father had spent so much of her childhood on, and decidedly chose to walk toward it. Her eyes flickered over the water with a deep appreciation, but just as she stepped toward the water’s edge, her foot sunk with a squishing sound – mud rising as her leg slid into the muck. Elizabeth immediately lost her balance, skirts seeping into the water as she fell face-forward into the peat, shivering and stunned. Mother would say such is a just punishment for the rejection of a proper gentleman’s proposal.

  ***

  Darcy’s horse trotted at a slow gait, his mind focused on the annoying dalliance of Bingley. He still didn’t understand what made a man with so many servants so incredibly slow. Though they had made arrangements to leave for London early that morning, it was well into the afternoon and Bingley was not at all prepared. He had hoped Bingley and himself would have been quite a bit further by this time, but as he waited with his belongings packed he knew that taking a final ride around the area might be a better way to pass the waiting time. It was this which brought him out to the grounds – a place he knew he wouldn’t be visiting again any time soon. His mind raced with recollections of the ball and the horrifying behaviors of just about every member of the Longbourn household, with exceptions for only Jane and Elizabeth. Honestly, if Darcy were to be truthful he had to admit that even Elizabeth hadn’t been beyond reproach. Her behavior bordering on uncivil and even possibly rude. Cursing his thoughts, Darcy pulled at the reigns, signaling the horse to slow. Why is it that I keep thinking about her? What could a plain and boring country girl have to offer other than the remarkably captivating eyes she possessed, or the fiery tongue lashing she could so easily give? Darcy knew of so many eligible young women from refined families who could offer both breeding and class, things he couldn’t imagine a single one of the Bennets had any experience with.

  Fitzwilliam had always been a man in control of himself, but ever since crossing paths with the radiant Elizabeth Bennet, he was finding his sensible mind more distant. Replaced instead with an unsure, and slightly envious man that Darcy found entirely unbecoming. Having never lost his senses before, it was new territory that sent a jolt of insecurity straight through him. Oddly, it was this sort of behavior that he so often found himself reprimanding Bingley for. Never would it have been imaginable for him to behave in such a way, and yet since meeting Elizabeth Bennet, Darcy had found himself falling far from the bounds of propriety. Nevertheless, his torment was soon to be dismissed once he left the countryside – never again having to see her again. And yet, even at night, Darcy’s mind would wander to the image of the enchanting E
lizabeth with her sparkling eyes, sharp tongue and knowingly sly glances.

  “Oh!” a woman’s voice in the distance abruptly brought Darcy from his thoughts, his eyes darting around the landscape curiously, listening intently for any other sound.

  “Is someone there?” he called out, directing the horse toward the sound with a snap of his wrist and reigns, “Hello?” Fitzwilliam lead the animal to a small clearing near a large pond. His mouth falling agape as he noted the figure of a young woman covered in peat from head to toe, “Miss, do you need some help?” he asked, slipping from the horse as he walked toward her. Within moments, Darcy’s eyes widened as they met with none other than those of Elizabeth Bennet.

  “Good day, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth murmured, shivering slightly as she spoke. Her lips spreading to produce an enchanting smile as she regarded him.

  “What is going on? Have you been hurt somehow?” Darcy asked, offering his hand to her concernedly.

  “Ah, perhaps I am most injured, Mr. Darcy, but I assure you it is nothing more than my pride which truly suffers,” Elizabeth remarked. “As gracious as you are to offer your assistance, I must kindly reject the offer. I prefer to walk just the same.”

  “Forgive me, Miss Bennet, but are you unchaperoned? What are you doing here alone?” Darcy asked.

  “I quite enjoy a solitary stroll from time to time. Unfortunately, a mishap and an accident disrupted my peaceful interlude, but I assure you I will recover.”

  “Miss Bennet, please allow me to escort you safely back home. I would not feel at peace should I just leave you here,” Darcy stated gentlemanly.

  “Mr. Darcy, I do truly appreciate all of your assistance and insistence. However, I am simply enjoying my walk, in spite of my misfortunes. Certainly, your offer to help is appreciated but I believe Mr. Bingley will be a long shortly and I would prefer to save myself yet another humiliation.”

  Darcy sighed, lifting his hand as he pulled his coat from his shoulders and draped it over Elizabeth’s body. “Please, accept the coat. With the freezing weather, you could take ill quickly. This will help somewhat,” he muttered, his eyes running over her face. In truth, Elizabeth already looked sickly, with blazing red cheeks from the wind, “You should return home in haste. I fear you may freeze if not.”

  Elizabeth peered back at him, her hands adjusting the coat around her shoulders. Surprisingly, Mr. Darcy’s voice held a friendliness that Elizabeth had not expected. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy. Of course, you are right. I should return home.” Elizabeth began to walk forward, but Darcy lifted his hand to gently place on her shoulder.

  “Miss Bennet, I do not think it wise for you to walk home. It will take you far too long to get there. You are welcome to use my horse. I will send someone to fetch him later.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “As much as I appreciate your genuine kindness, Mr. Darcy, my home is not too far from here and I have never been a gracious horse rider. And I have already ruined your coat.”

  “Miss Bennet, it is far too great a distance for you to walk in your present state. I am not wet and already I am beginning to freeze. I can see only one option to settle this dilemma. You and I shall both ride my horse to Longbourn.”

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened – shock overtaking her countenance. “Mr. Darcy, I cannot – we simply should not. That is entirely improper,” She declaimed.

  “Miss Bennet, I thoroughly understand your concern but I think more pressing matters are at hand. Mainly your health. If it were my sister I would consider her safety and wellbeing far above the bounds of propriety.”

  “Even as that may be true, I cannot see that being a comfortable situation for either of us,” Elizabeth muttered.

  “I am afraid I must insist, Miss Bennet. Should anything befall you if I leave here I could never forgive myself.”

  A shudder ran through Elizabeth’s body as she stood in place. Her mind shifting to reality. Mr. Darcy was correct that it was a great distance to walk and the cold was already beginning to seep into her bones. “I suppose you are correct, Mr. Darcy, and I am indebted to you for your kindness,” Elizabeth acquiesced.

  ***

  Darcy pulled taut on the reigns, drawing the horse to a halt as they pulled up into the drive at Longbourn. Elizabeth instantly slid off the horse to find her feet.

  “Thank you, kindly for your help, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth muttered, turning to walk toward the door.

  “Lizzy!” Her mother’s voice bellowed across the yard as she approached, “What has happened to you?” she asked, rushing out toward her and noting Mr. Darcy as he strode behind her.

  “Good day, Mrs. Bennet I found Miss Bennet walking back after taking a fall in the pond. I thought it only proper to escort her home after seeing her in such a state,” he explained. Behind her, Archibald peeked his head out and Elizabeth’s mouth fell open stunned to see him there.

  “Mr. Bingley? What are you doing here?” she asked in surprise.

  “I’ve come to call upon you, Miss Bennet,” he murmured, glancing at her muddied appearance. “What has happened?” he asked.

  “Oh, I took a fall,” Elizabeth scoffed and moved to walk into the house,“ but I simply must get out of these wet clothes. Pardon me.” She said, disappearing into the house and leaving Darcy, her mother, and Archibald all uncomfortably staring at one another.

  “Oh, Mr. Darcy, thank you for bringing my daughter home safely. Would you like to come inside?” Mrs. Bennet asked.

  Darcy shook his head, a passing glance shot toward Archibald as he pulled himself back on top of his horse. “Thank you for the offer, Mrs. Bennet. I really ought to be going now.”

  ***

  Darcy rode his horse slowly back through the meadow, his eyes glancing over the silvery water where Elizabeth had suffered her earlier misfortune. What is it with that young woman? Why can I not rid my thoughts of her constant image? And why, even when I seek not to cross her path does it seem to happen anyway? He felt an envious flicker swell in his heart, still uncertain how it was that Elizabeth ended up courting Bingley’s cousin of all people. And why was it that, if this Archibald, was so potently interested in Miss Bennet, that she was walking by herself for such a circumstance to overtake her? As absurd as it may have seemed, Darcy knew that if Elizabeth had been courting him such an event never would have befallen her. And yet, with her station in society he still did not understand why he could not simply forget about her. Seeing her in the pitiful state he had found her in had softened his heart though, and feeling such sympathy for her health he felt a pang of jealousy hit him straight in the chest the moment he spotted Archibald’s face waiting for her in the doorway.

  Chapter Two

  A sickening feeling overtook Darcy, his thoughts drifting back to the moment he had seen Archibald’s face in the doorway of the Longbourn home. He dare not speak his true thoughts, but an inward reflection upon the situation only caused another wave of nausea to take seize of him. Much to his displeasure, Wickham chose this moment to make an appearance in the company of the Regiment, no less. Darcy was not sure how to control his emotions but having rescued Miss Bennet he learned of her love for a leisurely walk – particularly in the early hours of the morning. Armed with such information, Darcy pensively considered riding during those same hours so as to happen upon her and, hopefully, become more acquainted with the whimsical and outspoken young woman who had all but consumed his every thought since the very moment his eyes beheld her captivating smile.

  In reflection of what he had learned upon delivering Miss Bennet to her home, Darcy could not be certain when, or if, Elizabeth would be capable of such strolls but decidedly chose to dress his horse for such a ride. His mind shifted to the conversation he and Mr. Bennet had shared. If Darcy were to be honest, Mr. Bennet regarded him with a surprising pleasance he had not expected. If he had been afforded more time with him, he might have even wished to befriend the man. As it stood, however, with the clergyman’s proposal, and Mrs. Bennet’s insistence that Darc
y had little to no chance of ever forming any such relation – even so, Darcy felt compelled to seek out and converse with the enchanting Elizabeth Bennet prior to leaving Netherfield for good.

  Having learned of Mr. Collins intentions – the very reason Elizabeth had been found in such a dire condition, Darcy felt a tinge of anger pulse through his veins. Though he had no rationale for such a feeling, knowing that Archibald had already begun the process of courting Miss Bennet made for even less opportunity to pursue such a thing. Not that he could – already unscrupulous behaviors plagued the Bennets. Nevertheless, Darcy felt a tugging sense of obligation to ensure that Elizabeth recovered fully from her misfortunes – whether Archibald cared or not made no difference. He simply could not go back on the vow he had given to Mr. Bennet – Elizabeth would be found walking in those woods again if Darcy’s word had any merit at all.

  He hoisted himself atop his horse and tugged at the reigns, his heels lightly kicking at its hips as he eased it forward. He found himself in cheery agreement with Elizabeth’s love of strolling through these woods. The country here was lovely, and Darcy began to understand why she had such a fondness – in spite of the cool water which she had fallen in.

  Brushing at the bottom of his chin, Darcy sighed. He had hoped, though secretly, to use the time on his ride to speak with Elizabeth in private. Something he had been denied since her rescue. The few moments that they had spent alone, with her so near him and yet still retaining as much propriety as possible – had stunned Darcy. What was it about this young woman that made her truly appalling behaviors seem tolerable? And why was it that he could not shake his mind of her in any way? Darcy felt as if a war were waging within his soul – one that he could not understand but wished would cease more than anything.

  How did he regain his sanity and rid his thoughts of this unsavory young woman who would rather deny speaking to him than regard him with simple and decent conversation? And why did the thought of her agreeing to the clergyman’s proposal – and worse yet, begin courting Archibald, make his blood boil so? It was not as if Darcy held some right to her. He scarcely knew the young woman, let alone had spent enough time to consider seeking courtship. What would people back home think if he did such a thing?