As I pondered, Mr Darcy had moved closer to me.
“Miss Bennet,” he said in a quiet voice. “Will you be my wife?”
I looked up at him and could not tear my gaze away from those dark eyes. There was a glint of something in them I had never seen before, but which made me feel warm all over. I opened my mouth to speak when the door burst open. I stepped away from Mr Darcy and turned to see Mr Collins standing at the door.
“Mr Darcy, I am concerned at the length of this conversation,” he said in a high pitched voice that made me suspect he’d pressed his ear to the door if not through the whole conversation, at least through the last part. “I hope I can assist you in whatever matter requires you to speak to Miss Elizabeth. And I must trouble you for congratulations, sir, because not only is Miss Elizabeth my cousin, but she is soon to be my wife.”
I gasped at him. He ignored me and kept his gaze fixed on Mr Darcy. The gentleman was silent for a moment.
“If you are engaged to marry Miss Bennet, congratulations certainly are in order,” he said in a terse voice. “When did Miss Bennet do you the honour of accepting your proposal? Pray, tell me how the happy event took place?”
“Yes, Mr Collins, do tell us about how I accepted your proposal? Because I confess, I have no memory of it, and I am sure I would recall such a momentous occasion,” I said tartly.
Mr Collins flushed and laughed and shook his head at Darcy in a way that made me wish to shake him.
“Miss Elizabeth and I have decided that marriage is the most sensible course for us,” he said to Mr Darcy as if I were not present. “We spoke of it yesterday, and she did not refuse or deny it was the only path available.”
“That is very different to the lady agreeing to marry you,” said Mr Darcy coldly. “And as you can see, she is as mystified by this engagement as I am. Tell me again; when did Miss Bennet agree to marry you? At what point did you hear the word yes?”
Mr Collins face deepened to an unhealthy shade of red, and he rubbed his hands together. He tried to laugh again.
“Come now, Mr Darcy. You and I both know elegant females are often coy and do not like to give their agreement with so bold a word as a yes. It is the common practice of these delicate creatures to wish to increase a man’s love by suspense. A lady knows she becomes less amiable in a man’s eyes if she does not show a little unwillingness.” He smiled grotesquely as if he and Mr Darcy were two men of the world. The expression in Mr Darcy’s eyes showed him almost as disgusted and offended as I was.
Something about Mr Collins’s attitude left me cold to the stomach. I had an insight to what life would be like with a man who did not listen to me, who deceived himself that I did not mean what I said and who ignored me when I refused him. I would have no voice in such a marriage, and I would not even have the consolation of being drawn to my husband to make it desirable.
“Please do not speak of me as if I am not here,” I retorted. “I ask you to do me the honour of believing I know what I am talking about. Do not assume I wish to increase your regard for me, sir. I have no given you an answer yet, and you understood that well enough to order that I should have one for you by tonight. I do not know what you are about by claiming we are engaged, but I do not care for it.”
Mr Collins’s face grew to a deeper red. His mouth opened, and he glanced anxiously at Mr Darcy.
“I did not order my fair cousin,” he said. “I wanted to assure her I expected a positive answer soon, having no doubt of it being a yes. My cousin is young and does not know the way of the world.”
“And I suppose you think you are the one to teach me?”
“Cousin, please,” said Mr Collins with a pained expression as if I were causing a scene. “We can discuss this matter later. You are embarrassing Mr Darcy.”
“I assure you, Miss Bennet is not the one embarrassing me,” said Mr Darcy in a clipped voice. I threw him a grateful glance, but he still glared at Mr Collins. “You and Miss Bennet are not engaged to be married. She has not agreed to such an arrangement, and it is ungentlemanly of you to presume she has. I believe you owe her an apology.”
Mr Collins gaped at him in horror.
“Mr Darcy, I beg your forgiveness if I have offended you, but I do not think you understand the delicacy of our situation. Miss Elizabeth wishes to keep her family at Longbourn, and I have been generous enough to make her an offer that will make it possible. I do not see how I can be at fault for that.”
“You are at fault if you seek to convince her she has no other option but to marry you,” said Mr Darcy.
“She does not…”
“Miss Bennet,” said Mr Darcy. He turned to me, and his face was so white, I was sure he was as angry as I felt. It was an odd sensation for us to be united on the same side for once, but Mr Collins was so infuriating, I believe a mutual dislike for him could join warring armies. “You know that marrying your cousin is not your only option. I repeat the question I asked you before he interrupted us. Will you be my wife?”
I looked at my cousin, his frog-like mouth open in stunned horror as he tried to protest but could not seem to find the words. An image flashed before my eyes — of walking down the aisle to see that face waiting for me, of sleeping in the same bed with that face night after night, listening to that voice drone on with sermons — I turned to Mr Darcy almost before I knew what I was about.
“Yes, Mr Darcy. I will.” I threw a glance at my cousin. “That is what an acceptance looks like.”
A faint smile crossed Mr Darcy’s face, and his shoulders relaxed. For the first time, I realised he had been nervous I might refuse. He should not be too comfortable. This was not a moment of rejoicing for me. It was nothing more than pledging my life to the man I disliked least. It was choosing which life would be slightly more bearable. At least if I married Mr Darcy, we would be wealthy enough to have separate dwellings if I could not endure him. With Mr Collins, there would have been no such escape. My childhood home would have become a prison, and I liked that idea even less.
10
The rest of the day passed in a blur. My mother and sisters received the news with cries and shrieks and not a few sniggers from my younger sisters who knew how little I liked Mr Darcy. My mama wept and dabbed her eyes, and she mentioned again and again how rich we would be. She apologised to Mr Collins but rushed to assure him how much she appreciated his generous offer in marrying me and how he must be thankful it was unnecessary.
“Lizzy will never make a good parson’s wife,” she whispered when Mr Darcy could not hear. “Too headstrong by far. You have had a lucky escape, sir. Oh, Haye Park, girls, can you imagine? Is Mr Darcy not good to us? Oh, I am distracted!”
Mr Collins glowered at me but was quick to plaster a simpering smile on his face whenever Mr Darcy glanced in his direction. He had argued with us when I first accepted Mr Darcy’s proposal and insisted it would devastate his patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. He argued that we could not know our own minds and even insisted that Mr Darcy was already engaged to his cousin, Anne de Bourgh to such lengths that Mr Darcy grew tired of him and bid him be quiet.
Mr Darcy approached me now as I stood apart from the rest of the family near the window. I was still in a daze from the day’s events. Only yesterday morning, I woke up with no idea I was expected to marry Mr Collins. Now here I was about to marry the last man in the world I had ever imagined as my husband. I would leave Longbourn as Mrs Darcy and become the mistress of Pemberley. I smiled as I imagined Miss Bingley’s reaction to the news. No doubt she would be the first to rejoice. How the congratulations would flow in freely. I am sure she would throw us a ball to celebrate what must be the crowning hope of all her ambitions.
“What can make you smile, Miss Bennet?” Mr Darcy asked, coming to join me.
“Why should I not smile, sir? This is my engagement day. The one day in her life every lady dreams of.”
“Not you though. Or you did not dream of it coming about in such a manner?”
&
nbsp; “Does anyone?”
Mr Darcy did not respond. He sipped his wine and observed my mother and younger sisters who giggled together at the other side of the room.
“I hope we are doing the right thing,” I said, voicing a trouble that had haunted me all evening.
“We are doing the only thing we can do,” said Mr Darcy.
“That is not true though. I do not know why you persist in believing you are to blame for what happened to my father.”
“Miss Bennet,” said Mr Darcy in an abrupt tone. “We have spoken of this already. I ask you to leave it to me how my conscience will trouble me. And it is not for you to fret or worry. All your troubles are now over. You may feel secure in your future.”
I stared at him incredulously.
“Is that what you think? You believe me so vapid that being betrothed is all I require to feel happy? No, Mr Darcy. You are wrong. I have exchanged one set of troubles for another, but I do so because I am hopeful they are less than what was before me and because it benefits my family. You see this marriage as a sort of penance, but I did not grow up dreaming I would marry a man out of obligation and only because the alternative was far more unpleasant.”
For a moment, Darcy did not speak. I wondered if he had heard me or if he was still focused on watching my mother and sisters with that displeased expression on his face. But from the set of his jaw and the hard lines of his face, he had heard every word and was struggling to master himself before speaking.
“Is it that the circumstances are unpleasant or marriage to me in particular you speak of?” he asked in a tight tone that suggested he was still not quite master of his temper.
“Both, I imagine,” I replied. “For both of us. Neither of us wants to marry under these circumstances, and it has been clear from our previous encounters that we do not care for one another. Neither of us would choose the other if we could, but here we are.”
Darcy turned to look down at me. I stared at his cravat for a moment before meeting his eyes.
“I did not realise the thought of being my wife was so unpleasant to you,” he said. There was a strange smile over his face as he spoke. “I thought you were merely upset by the circumstances.”
I examined his face, searching for some sign of where his words came from. Surely he had not deceived himself of my regard for him? I had never attempted to hide how I felt. But I still felt a faint stirring for gratitude of how he had defended me that day and I was reluctant to spar with him as much as I was used to.
“We have never been the best of friends, sir,” I murmured. “And it is clear we are not marrying for love. I only speak thus to be honest; a trait you told me you valued.”
“I do.” Darcy rubbed at his face, and I wondered at his discomfiture. I took refuge in my usual way; by attempting to make light of the conversation.
“And after all, you hardly rejoice at having me for a bride. Come, I am sure when you imagined the woman you would marry, someone like me never entered your mind. I bring you neither fortune nor connections. I already know you do not consider me particularly handsome —“
Darcy flinched and looked at me sharply, but he said nothing and I pressed on.
“— And you will take on the burden of five other women. I know what you sacrifice by marrying me. I only wonder at your insistence on it.”
Darcy sighed and replaced his glass on the table.
“It has been a long day…” he began.
“And you wish to run away already?” I crooked a smile at him. “Not the most ardent beginning to our match that you would rather be tucked up in bed at Netherfield than here with me.”
“Do you wish me to stay?”
I paused. “I wish to have a word with you if you please? We have had no time to discuss the details of our arrangement since I agreed to be your wife. Will you join me in the garden?”
Without a word, Darcy offered me his arm. My two youngest sisters whooped and cheered as we announced our plan to walk together, earning themselves a sharp reprimand from Jane. Darcy’s eyes narrowed. I wondered if he had considered the sort of family he would marry into soon. Perhaps he already regretted his hasty decision.
The sun sank low in the sky, and there was a sharp bite to the air. I pulled my shawl a little closer and nodded when Darcy asked if I was warm enough. The embarrassment I felt at the topics I would raise already left me feeling quite warm.
“You wish to discuss the details of our marriage,” he began as we walked down the path towards the shrubbery. “Naturally, you wonder what I shall settle on you and your family.”
My face grew warmer. “I appreciate you taking a house for them in the neighbourhood where they can remain among family and friends. But if you think I enquire about jewels and carriages, you are mistaken. I think when it comes to our marriage, there are far more pressing matters to discuss, do you not agree?”
Darcy paused for a moment in walking to look down at me. He cleared his throat.
“I do,” he said in his deep voice. “You know I have an estate in Derbyshire. I also have a townhouse in London. I thought we could journey there for a few weeks after our wedding before continuing to Pemberley. It will give us a chance to grow used to married life before you take on the rigours of being mistress of Pemberley.”
I kept my gaze fixed to the stone flags as he spoke.
“Does this suit you?” he asked when I did not respond.
“It does,” I said carefully. “There will be much for us to grow used to…“ My voice trailed off. I could not form my thoughts coherently.
“There will.” I could feel Darcy’s eyes on me, but I refused to meet them. All I could imagine was what married life would entail. I would share a bed with Mr Darcy. We would come together as husband and wife. The idea did not trouble me as much as it had with Mr Collins, but that did not mean I would welcome it. We were two people with little to say to one another and little liking for one another. And now I would be his to do with what he wanted. I would welcome him to my bed and bear his children. It was too strange.
“There are some parts to married life we need not rush into,” he added. There was a certain harshness to his voice. “As the prospect of being my wife does not delight you, I will not press you on the issue until you ask me, but we can delay consummating the marriage until you are ready.”
I smiled up at him as relief flooded through me, but I noticed the bitterness in his eyes.
“It will not be forever,” I said. “I know men have — have needs, and it is a wife’s duty to meet those needs —“
“Miss Bennet.” Darcy withdrew his arm from me and turned to face me. “I have never taken a reluctant woman to my bed, and I do not mean to start now. Least of all with you. When I say I will wait until you desire it, I mean exactly that. Not when you are prepared to endure it.”
His eyes were still bitter, but there was something else there, a certain heat, that made me flustered. I did not care for the feeling, and I cast about for something else to say that would distract me from the unwelcome and confusing sensations.
“You sound very confident that I will welcome you someday. What if I never do?”
Darcy’s jaw tightened.
“We shall see.”
He took my arm again, and we walked further, following the winding path around the kitchen gardens.
11
Mr Darcy
I could not sleep. I flung the sheets away and stood up, feeling too full of energy for any rest that night. The moon was a little less bright than it had been when I encountered Elizabeth in the garden, but it still lit up the countryside. I stood at the window looking over the tops of the trees towards Longbourn where my future wife slept.
Elizabeth Bennet was to be my wife. I could hardly believe it. I wanted to tell myself it was the impulse of a moment. I, Fitzwilliam Darcy, was not so foolish that I would knowingly marry a woman who would bring no wealth or connections to my family. That was not in my nature. I weighed decisions care
fully and always made the sensible choice.
But marrying Elizabeth was anything but sensible. Yet I could not pretend I had acted on impulse. As soon as she told me she would have to marry her cousin, I knew I had to convince her to be my wife instead. I would not see her wed to that craven fool and know he had the right to touch her and be with her. If she refused me and went ahead with marrying Mr Collins, I did not know what I would have done. It took all my self-mastery to remain calm and in control when it seemed she might refuse me when all I wanted was to carry her away to Pemberley. The moments when she looked at me with such scepticism and, dare I say, distaste, where some of the longest and most torturous moments of my life. I was fortunate that Mr Collins’s arrogance showed itself at a critical moment.
I turned to the desk to write to my solicitor to discuss the settlement, but I found it hard to put words to the paper. All I could see was Elizabeth’s dark eyes and her light smile. The idea of being married to such a woman went right to the heart of me, past the sensible Mr Darcy of Pemberley to the man underneath who was lonely and besotted with a woman for the first time in his life.
Perhaps I was foolish. I should have left when I had the chance. If I had not been in the woods that day and met with Mr Bennet or if I had paid more attention to his pale face and his breathlessness, so similar to my own dear father’s appearance before his death, none of this would be my concern now. I would have left Hertfordshire and learned to put Elizabeth from my mind. I might even have made a match with a more suitable woman who did not have family in trade or a foolish, hysterical mother and sisters who were little better than wild animals. I would not be about to mortify myself with a connection to people whose condition in life was so decidedly below my own. Dammit all, why did Elizabeth have to have this strange effect on me?
I put the pen down and stretched back in the chair, my eyes once again wandering to the window where I imagined Elizabeth in her bed, her dark curls tossed about the pillow, her nightgown slipping from her shoulder…
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