Hello! Welcome to my variation on P&P, Wilfully Misunderstood. The premise is that Mr Darcy is unable to see Elizabeth and make his disastrous first proposal the evening at Hunsford and following that he overhears a conversation between her and Charlotte which causes him to rethink his approach.
I plan to post a chapter each week on Saturday or Sunday and in total there are roughly thirty chapters (around 80k words).
I would massively appreciate it if you could point out any mistakes you notice to me in a review or PM so that I can fix them and I'd also love it if you could tell me anything you think I'm doing well or badly as this is my first Fanfiction attempt.
I took the title from one of my favourite P&P lines:

'There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil, a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome.'
'And your defect is a propensity to hate everybody.'
'And yours,' he replied with a smile, 'is wilfully to misunderstand them.' - Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 10

Without further ado, enjoy! :)

Miss Elizabeth Bennet was not there. This point immediately became clear to Mr Darcy as he observed the Hunsford party's arrival. He watched from a window - of which the reader can be assured there were several, all particularly finely glazed - as the trio marched up the grand driveway towards Rosings house.

Mr Collins appeared to be engaged in one of his usual flamboyant speeches, arms gesturing wildly to emphasise his meaning. Mrs Collins merely nodded, agreeing calmly with her husband. If she did happen to roll her eyes or shrug her shoulders at any of his more ridiculous exclamations, then it was done discreetly. Materially it was a good match, Darcy observed as he watched them. Intellectually ... well, it was not his place to comment.

The younger Lucas girl was hanging off Mr Collins's every word in the same wide-eyed silence that Rosings always inflicted upon her. Darcy had barely heard a word from her throughout his stay and would have suspected her to be mute were it not for the few syllables she mumbled in their perfunctory greetings and farewells. In this, she was the polar opposite of Miss Elizabeth who would rarely go a minute without uttering one of her characteristic witticisms which had first captured his interest.

Indeed, Miss Elizabeth's lively conversation was the only thing that could make evenings at Rosings more bearable to him, so much so that he had extended his stay there beyond its usual length. This time with her was his little indulgence, as in reality her connections were far too low to make her a viable marriage partner for him and even had this not been the case the objections to her family's behaviour were far too large an obstacle to overcome.

The guests soon reached the house and were announced by a footman in fine livery as they entered the parlour. Greetings were exchanged, and Mr Collins was quick to explain Miss Elizabeth's absence from the group, for he feared that it must offend his noble patroness.

'I must apologise for my cousin your ladyship, she has a headache and did not feel well enough to accompany us tonight.' The peculiar gentleman announced in a tone which suggested that she was entirely at fault for being indisposed.

'I met her on my tour of the park this morning and she was not feeling well then.' Colonel Fitzwilliam observed with concern. 'I do hope it is just a passing complaint and she is recovered by the morning. It would be an awful shame if we had to return to town without taking our leave of her, for I have enjoyed her company immensely.'

'Oh, I am sure she has merely overexerted herself gallivanting around the countryside-' Collins began, eager to be critical of the headstrong lady who had refused his proposal and damaged his pride.

'Yes, yes,' Lady Catherine cut him off, 'Miss Bennet is a rather pretty little thing, but she really should spend less time out of doors. Such an adventurous nature is not at all attractive in a lady and she is unlikely to find a husband if she continues so. The most desirable characteristic of a wife is to be primarily concerned with the inside of one's home, is that not so, Darcy?'

Darcy wore his usual solemn expression and did not deign to respond. He and Colonel Fitzwilliam could only blush at their Aunt's undignified commentary, each silently thinking that Miss Bennet's adventurous nature was very attractive indeed.

After this exchange, Darcy waited only the bare minimum of time that politeness demanded before making his excuses and rushing away in the direction of the Hunsford Parsonage. He was in equal parts desperate to ensure that his dearest Miss Elizabeth was not seriously indisposed and to escape his Aunt's criticisms of the lady in question.

It was by chance estate business which he cited to draw him away, a lucky coincidence for a man as violently in love as he could have conjured the most strange and ridiculous story in such a situation, his haste to depart being such that he was unaware of his own words.

This violent love was also the culprit in his failing to consider the fact that had Elizabeth's condition been severe her dear friend Mrs Collins would undoubtedly have stayed to comfort and tend to her (though it is unlikely that Mr Collins would have foregone his trip to Rosings even if she had been at death's door).

Neither had he considered how he would explain his presence to the lady upon gaining her company. Indeed, he had worked himself into such a state that he may have confessed his feelings and proposed marriage to her on the spot, but as it happens, such a scenario never took place.

Having rushed away from Rosings in the direction of the parsonage, startling several gardeners as he went, Mr Darcy was politely informed upon his arrival that Miss Elizabeth was resting and was not to be disturbed. No - the doctor had not been sent for and no - she did not appear to be seriously ill. These were to be the most details he got from the startled servant.

The servant in question, a young woman by the name of Molly, particularly liked Miss Elizabeth and knowing of her dislike of Mr Darcy had deliberately turned him away so as not to cause her any distress - although of course, Mr Darcy was not aware of this.

The gentleman strode away from the humble parsonage, dissatisfied for not having seen the object of his affections but relieved that he had avoided the following task of explaining himself. As he left the garden he turned to glance back and fooled himself that the corner of a curtain had twitched.

Was that Miss Elizabeth? What would she think as she watched him? Would she be pleased to see that he had visited? He felt certain that she would, for she had always responded so pleasantly to his addresses in her teasing and engaging manner and though he had tried not to raise her hopes, surely she could not doubt his regard for her.

Perhaps she would be embarrassed at being taken ill, for she was so strong-willed and independent that she must hate her vulnerability. Yes, that sounded like his Elizabeth.

Satisfied by his musings, Darcy realised that he could not immediately return to Rosings without arousing suspicion. In any case, he did not particularly wish to return and dine with his Aunt or her rector. They each had a tendency towards the ridiculous and after his lengthy visit he was glad that his time with his Aunt and Mr Collins was soon to be over, even if it would separate him from Miss Elizabeth again.

With this in mind, he followed a path through to the side of the estate and walked the groves surrounding the park. Out here, away from the gaudy furnishings that his Aunt had added, Rosings was indeed beautiful. It could not match Pemberley, but it offered a landscape that was very different and splendid in its own right.

At times like these, he could see the merits in Lady Catherine's idea of uniting the two great estates. The wealth and power that it would bring were undeniable and it would ensure that the Darcy name lived on in history for centuries to come...

But no, it was not to be. Cousin Anne was far too fragile to provide him with an heir. If he married her then the Darcy line would end. Besides, he firmly believed that an estate of this size deserved a dedicated master, not one who would be constantly distracted by the needs of another estate.

He told himself that these were his primary reasons for resisting his Aunt's efforts to secure his union with Anne. It was most definitely not because of his desire for a certain fine-eyed beauty from Hertfordshire.

Elizabeth.

She seemed to be constantly with him, haunting his every thought since the ball at Netherfield where she had been so tantalisingly beautiful yet so far from his reach. After enduring so many heart aching months without her he could only imagine a future where she was not by his side as being dull and empty. In just a few days he would return to town and then she would be out of reach again, perhaps forever.

Out of sight, out of mind, they say. If only it was so easy. Every effort that he had made to forget her seemed only to have made her dearer to him. In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. He thought sadly, realising that he would be doomed to a lifetime of trying to forget her. He would never be able to feel the same way about another, never marry or have children...

Suddenly a thought dawned on him. If his love for her would prevent him from marrying any other, then was it not better to marry her and produce an heir than never to marry at all? After all, she was the daughter of a gentleman even though her family's income was nothing compared to his own.

Many members of society would object more to him forming a union with someone whose wealth came from trade such as Miss Bingley than a woman such as Miss Elizabeth living in genteel poverty. Her connections, though not ideal, could be dealt with and they would be settled far enough from her family to make visits a rarity, sparing him for the most part from the vulgar matriarch and younger sisters.

Wandering through a leafy grove where he had happened upon Miss Elizabeth just a few days earlier, Darcy's thoughts turned again to how utterly divine she was. All the years of waiting and resisting, going against the demands of the ton and his family, they would be worth it for this.

For her.

An impertinent country nobody with a ridiculous family and relations in trade. But her voice echoed in his head, whispering teasing comments in her arch manner, bringing a new meaning to every word she spoke. Perhaps he had lost his mind, but this madness was sweet indeed.

Realising that the hour had grown rather late while he strolled in contemplation, Darcy set off purposefully back towards the great house, hoping that he could avoid having to speak to his aunt when he returned. Luckily the Hunsford party had left early, eager as Mrs Collins was to ensure that her friend was alright, so when he arrived back at the house he would not be expected to join them.

'Darcy? Where on earth have you been?' Colonel Fitzwilliam exclaimed as the two met in the entrance hall. Before his cousin could reply he continued in a lower tone: 'And don't you dare say estate work to me. I know you have been hiding so that you don't have to endure our delightful extended family. Well, you could have warned me in advance so that I could escape as too, a whole evening and with only the Collinses and Miss Lucas! You could at least have chosen an evening when Miss Bennet was present to converse with me. The only voices I seem to have heard all evening are our Aunt's and Mr Collins's and he only speaks to agree with the former. You owe me for this one old man; I've had everything from my hair to my shoes insulted tonight!'

But Darcy was in too good a mood to be unduly affected by his cousin's speech and just grinned at his protests.
'You are in the army, aren't you? It's good practice for your diplomacy skills.' He quipped.

'Well, the French have never tried to insult me to death!' Richard replied in exasperation.

'Ah, but if it were possible Aunt Catherine would be the pride of the Forces.' Darcy told him. 'Now stand aside; I have business to attend to.' And with that he took the stairs two at a time, striding out of view before his Aunt could summon him to her side. He had endured enough of her conversation for this visit. Wisely, Colonel Fitzwilliam chose to do the same.

Once in the safety of his rooms, Darcy finally realised his hunger and rang for supper to be brought to him. At the time he had not even noticed missing dinner but now he was ravenous. Complete inattention to one's own basic needs must surely be a symptom of the deepest love.

As he ate he contemplated everything he would have to do the next morning. There would so many arrangements to be made once he and Elizabeth were engaged!

But of course, they must first become engaged. This thought caused him an unfamiliar feeling of nervousness. It was not that he thought she would not welcome his approach, but he couldn't very well burst into the parsonage in the morning and get down on one knee in front of everyone, ridiculous cousin and all.

Naturally, he would also have to reassure her that while her family and situation were not ideal being as they were so decidedly beneath his own, he had taken all this into consideration and would not hold it against her...

Oh, her beauty! Her wit! He could contemplate it all night. But how was he supposed to say it? While she was certainly all that was charming, polite and teasing, he seemed to completely lose all form of coherent thought around her. Perhaps he would write her a letter. His words always flowed more easily on paper.

No! His cousin's voice suddenly rang in his head, teasing his reliance on his pen.

'Honestly, Darcy, if a man could stop the war with a letter it would be you! Old Bonaparte would die before he finished the first page out of pure shock from the quantity of four syllable words, and if that didn't get him then the old age would after the 24th side.' The Colonel threw his head back and laughed while a younger, less confident Bingley looked on in awe that he dared to speak to Darcy (who he absolutely worshipped) in such a way.

At the time he had not fully appreciated Richard's meaning and, in all honesty, had mostly been ignoring him since he was well past his fourth glass of brandy, but now he thought he understood. Many things can be conducted perfectly adequately by letter, but, just like war, a proposal of marriage is not one of them.

Of course, it may be wrong to assume that the Colonel's words did have any sort of deep meaning as after that moment Darcy's memories faded into a fuzzy recollection of his cousin pulling out his sword and slicing a quill to pieces, something about proving the sword truly was mightier than the pen. He was unsure if that had just been an alcohol induced dream.

Be that as it may, he was sure that a letter was not the way to do it, meaning he would have to find some way to catch Miss Elizabeth alone. In recent weeks he had taken to joining her on her morning walks. Such a rendezvous between an unmarried man and woman if planned was not strictly proper but as both parties were fond of exercise and residing in close proximity to each other an accidental meeting every now and then was easily explainable.

He remembered fondly the first time that he had happened upon her. Although he would never admit it, he had been wandering further than was his usual wont in the corners of the great park in the hope that Elizabeth's adventurous nature would lead her to the more secluded groves.

His efforts were rewarded on his second or third attempt and as they walked together she delicately informed him that this was one of her favourite haunts. Surely this was a sign that she welcomed his company and wished for him to join her again.

He did so, many times, and relished the private moments that this gave him to admire her beauty and strength of mind as she jumped from daintily picking a flower in one second to intelligently discussing the state of the war in the next. She was a force of nature just as surely as the sun or the wind, so surely there could be no better a place to offer for her than surrounded by the beautiful scenery of the park.

He would leave nothing to chance, though. Rather than hoping she walked the usual way, he would set out earlier and wait for her near the Hunsford parsonage. After all, he was due to leave Rosings in the early morning two days hence so tomorrow would be his last chance. He did not want to miss it. Who knew when he would next meet her if he did?

Searching in the back of the drawer where he knew he had stowed it, Darcy pulled out his Grandmother's engagement ring. It was not as valuable or ostentatious as some, but he was sure that its subtlety would be far more to Elizabeth's tastes than the other more extravagant rings in the Darcy collection.

He had taken to carrying it on his return to London when he was first mourning the relationship with her that he could never have. At the time he had resolved that he must never return to Hertfordshire again. If he did not have to meet her then maybe he could forget how she had made him feel.

Upon hearing of her presence at Rosings there had been a horrendous moment where he thought she was the new Mrs Collins, followed by a burst of joy as he was informed that she was only visiting her newly married friend. The relief he felt then had weakened his resolve that she could never be his as he had been forced to consider the agonising pain that it would cause him if she married another man.

This was followed by jealousy as he watched his charming cousin entertain her while his Aunt demanded his attention and kept him from her side, but through it all there had been her teasing comments, references to the time they had spent in Hertfordshire, directed only at him. The wait would soon be over. In the morning she would be his.

I have now edited this chapter to correct the grammar and shorten the paragraphs as pointed out in reviews so hopefully it reads more clearly. Please do point out anything else you notice! :)

©Isabelle Lowe, 2018