Vampire and Prejudice

Chapter 24 - Elizabeth

It was tempting upon waking to consider the events of the previous day a nightmare, but I had to quickly dispense with that fantasy. I was a nervous embodiment of a secret which I would not divulge to anyone. To confess that my sister was a victim of a particularly cruel intrigue—unthinkable; to relay that Mr. Darcy, of all people, had lowered himself and begged me to accept his hand—impossible. Even remembering it made me want to call myself a liar.

Perhaps in my old age I might sit with other old women and recount my adventures of youth and then it would be a pleasant anecdote. Did you know that the master of Pemberley was so in love with me once that he proposed to me, and if I was a girl with less sense and enticed by pretty baubles, I might have married him? Surely such tales would be as unbelievable then as they were now, but at least with my wrinkles and gray hair, everyone would pity me enough to not say a word against the unveritable truths of my younger days.

Mr. Darcy loved me—a sickening thought. I felt nothing of the elation that a flirt might feel upon making a new conquest and then breaking that heart as thoroughly as a glass might break on the rocks when flung carelessly from a great height. But whatever I had done to be punished with his love, I had not done it consciously. I knew not how to retrace my steps and ensure that nothing of the like happen again.

The proposal was the most terrifying thing that had ever happened to me. There was not a soul in the house that could protect me from his wrath, should he choose to unleash it—I was alone, rejecting him and lecturing him, professing my hatred towards him. That he simply collected what was left of his dignity and left me to nurse my tears was almost astonishing. Knowing his cruelty, I realized that it could have gone very differently. I had feared and hated him; now I could also fear and hate his love, for I knew well enough that nothing good could come of it.

Mr. Darcy was more than a little surprised at being rejected, but to his credit, he had not assumed that I was not in earnest. He at no point considered me his to be had, regardless of the words that dropped from my lips. Recollecting my very short history of proposals, I knew that was not always the case. Mr. Darcy felt no need to remind me of my situation, that a more lucrative proposal was unlikely to ever be made to me. He at least spared me that indignity, though I was perfectly certain that I would have professed to prefer the poor house to his hand. Not that I wanted to be poor, not that I did not want to be taken care of, but the price for accepting his hand seemed higher than I was willing to pay. To be loved by him was an appalling prospect.

"Eliza, there is a gentleman here to see you," Charlotte said some time after breakfast. Upon seeing my blanched face, she felt it necessary to elaborate. "Colonel Fitzwilliam has begged leave to wait on you in private. Will you see him?"

I let out a sigh of relief. "Yes, I will see him."

No doubt Charlotte expected her suspicions to come true and for Colonel Fitzwilliam to confess his love to me. Little did she know that her suspicions had already come true, albeit about another gentleman. I went gladly to the small parlor, knowing anything in the world would be better than the events of last night.

"Miss Elizabeth," he greeted me more gravely than I was used to expect from him.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam," I returned, not being particularly cheerful myself. Everything about his face and stance made me believe that he was privy to my refusal of Mr. Darcy and I could not entirely understand his stake in the matter. Was he here to convince me to give a different response?

"I have a letter for you," he said, extending his arm with an envelope which I instinctively took and regretted that action immediately, realizing it was heavy with Mr. Darcy's hand. "I am here to beg you to read it, and after you are done, I am here to give you my opinion should you require it."