September Storm Relay Story Part 10

Thank you so much for all you’ve done to help those in need from Dorian. I know the donation meter has been pretty still but our faithful Elizabeth Adams has been swamped with fixing up her house and hasn’t had the opportunity to update it. Hopefully, we’ll get a new total this evening!

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Read part 9 here. Now, on with the show! This post is from Monica Fairview! We have a group post coming up last, so instead of 10, there are 11 parts!  Happy reading!

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“What is happening, Papa?” said Jane, appearing in the doorway. Her eyes fell on Mr. Bingley. “Oh!” she said, her eyes wide. “I think that is my nightgown.”

“It is, indeed,” said Mr. Bennet, grimly. Which is why I cannot allow anyone to leave the room until we resolve some matters. I cannot risk the reputation of my house. If word gets out about the goings on here, my girls will be ruined. I must consider their reputations. What kind of a father would I be if I allowed that to happen?”

“Your daughters, Mr. Bennet, as I have already pointed out on numerous occasions, have no reputations to speak of.”

“Unfortunately. neither do you, Lady Catherine. If it became known that you were creeping between gentlemen’s bedsheets at night…”

“I did not creep between any gentlemen’s bedsheets at night,” Lady Catherine sputtered.

“I beg to differ. The evidence suggests otherwise.”

He looked around and his gaze settled on Mr. Darcy.

“And you, Mr. Darcy, have you no honor, pursuing my daughter to the attic, taking advantage of her in her own house?”

“I assure you, Mr. Bennet –“

“—This is an outrage, sir!” cried Lady Catherine. “I am leaving this very instant. Come Darcy. Let us leave this house of ill repute. How dare you suggest that my nephew—.”

“Silence!” roared Mr Bennet.

Everyone stopped talking and stared at Mr. Bennet as if he had grown a second pair of ears.

“There is only one solution to the problem.” He turned to Lady Catherine. “You, Lady Catherine, will have to marry Mr. Bingley.”

Lady Catherine gasped in shock. There were sounds of protest from everyone.

“Marry Mr. Bingley? How can you suggest such a thing—” she choked, for once lost for words, her mouth opening and closing like the fish she encountered earlier.

Then she cast a sidelong glance at Mr. Bingley with his ruddy curls and strong manly hands. “Perhaps—” she said, with a coy look. “Perhaps it is not such a bad idea after all. It has been a long time since I have had a young man in my bed. If I can have my solicitor draw up a marriage contract that does not allow my property to fall into my husband’s hands—”

Mr. Bingley gave out a very unmanly yelp. “I have no intention of falling in with this plan of yours, Mr. Bennet. I have other ideas. I intend no offence, Lady Catherine.”

“Papa,” said Jane, indignantly. “You cannot do such a thing!”

“It is perfect,” said Lady Catherine, looking like a cat who had gotten into the cream. “Mr. Bennet, you are a genius.”

Jane grabbed Mr. Bingley by the hand and tugged at him, an unusual look of determination on her face.  “I believe Papa has gone mad! Come, let us get away from here.”

“No!” wailed lady Catherine, like a child being deprived of her favourite toy. “No, he’s mine! He’s mine, I tell you!”

Jane and Mr. Bingley began to run. She ran after them, gripping at Bingley’s nightgown. It slid off his shoulders, revealing a manly chest.

“No,” said Jane, very, very firmly. “He is mine.”

Mr. Bennet watched them go, then turned to Mr. Darcy.

“As for you, Mr. Darcy—” He looked at the young gentleman in cold fury.

Mr. Darcy drew himself up to his full height. “I am perfectly willing to make reparation for any damage I have done to your daughter’s reputation, sir. I would be more than happy to marry Miss Elizabeth.”

“Good,” said Mr. Bennet. “Then that is settled.”

“No, it is most definitely not settled,” said Elizabeth. “Am I to have no say in the matter, Papa?” she rounded on Mr. Darcy. “And you, sir. How dare you discuss my future in public in this cold-blooded manner? I now know you do not have a romantic bone in your body. Mr. Darcy, I cannot accept your proposal, if that is what this was. I deserve more than to be a bargaining chip for the honor of one male or the other. I had thought, Mr. Darcy, that you had changed, but I see now that I was very much mistaken. I will not be forced into marrying anyone. I would not marry you if you were the last man in the world.”

She turned and marched out of the room, with Mr. Darcy chasing after her.

“Well,” said Mr. Bennet, to no one in particular, the severe expression disappearing, a look of intense amusement settling on his face. “I do believe that went very well. Don’t you?”

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