Prevailed Upon to Marry

by Isabelle Mayfair

  He crossed the room in a few strides and took my hand at once as he sat beside me.

  “I am sorry I was not here earlier,” he said to the sisters.

  “I was just telling the ladies how you had business to attend before we leave for Pemberley,” I said hastily.

  He did not allow any expression to show on his face. He nodded.

  “I was loath to leave my new wife,” he said. “But the sooner this business was completed, the sooner we could be alone. If I had known when I entered Hertfordshire that last time that I would leave with a wife, I should have arranged matters sooner. But I cannot complain about how things turned out.”

  His smile was tender, and his warm fingers caressed mine in a way that made me shiver. Without realising it, I was staring into his dark eyes. His lips tugged into a small smile as I glanced at them.

  “Is it all taken care of — my love?” I murmured. I wished my voice sounded steadier than it did. He raised my hands to his lips, and I stifled a gasp at the warm feel of his lips on my skin. A strange feeling pooled in my belly at the contact.

  “All taken care of. I am all yours,” he said.

  I felt somewhat dazed, and so the voice of Miss Bingley jolted me. I had almost forgotten they were there.

  “Well, don’t you two make a splendid couple,” she said in a voice slightly higher than usual.

  Darcy laughed easily. He leaned back and stretched his arm along the back of my chair in a protective manner.

  “Forgive us, ladies. I hope you can indulge a new-married couple. Our feelings for one another has almost overcome our civility.”

  “Louisa and I were saying how shocked we were by the news,” said Miss Bingley with a brittle smile. “We had no notion you would see the Bennets again when you returned to Hertfordshire. And now, here you are, married to Miss Eliza Bennet.”

  “Mrs Elizabeth Darcy, if you please,” said Darcy. “That name is now dearer to me than any other, and it delights me to hear it.”

  “I told them how good you were to us after — after Father died,” I said, still in a daze. “How you came to us all the time and offered your assistance.” That much was true.

  His eyes grew serious.

  “It was the least I could do,” he said softly.

  “And how as we walked about the park, we fell — fell in love with one another.” My eyes dropped to his cravat as I said those words.

  “Ah, so you have wanted to hear our love story, did you? Yes, it was all quite rapid. We jumped from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a very short space of time. When I asked Elizabeth to marry me, I was terrified she might refuse. I could not have endured it if I had to leave without her as my wife. The moment she said yes, I was the happiest man in the world.”

  I raised my eyes to meet his, expecting to see a sarcastic smile. Instead, he regarded me with a steady expression I could not understand.

  “And you, Miss Eliza — Mrs Darcy? You must have been ecstatic to land — to receive such an offer.”

  “I was thrilled to receive an offer from Mr Darcy when I realised I had fallen in love with him and delighted in his character,” I said in a faltering tone. I hardly knew what I said as Darcy’s strong fingers circled my palm. I could still feel the place where his lips touched me. “The thought of becoming his wife made me happier than anything I had ever known before.”

  “Oh, I am sure it did.”

  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I caught Miss Bingley’s nasty, insinuating tone, but strangely, I did not care. As Darcy continued to gaze at me with an intensity that left me scarcely able to breathe, I suddenly thought what a dangerous game we were playing.

  When he first mentioned we would have to play at being in love, the thought amused me. I imagined I would at least have some entertainment in this terrible situation. But now, I suddenly realised how dangerous it would be. Were actors not sometimes deceived by their playacting? Did they not sometimes come to believe the words they spoke and fall in love in earnest? It would not do for me to fall in love with my husband, only to have my heart broken when he did not return those feelings. I would look a fool if I allowed myself to be deceived by his performance. And as we were married, I would have no release from him. If I were single, I could grieve at not having my love returned and then pick myself back up and find another. But as his wife, there would be no such escape. I would be forever bound to him.

  But what was I thinking? This was Mr Darcy! Of course I was not going to be deceived. It was only that he was a fine actor. I was not about to lose my heart to a few looks and caring words. I would laugh at myself later when I recalled how easily I almost allowed myself to be fooled by them. I tried to keep those thoughts in mind even as those dark eyes gazed at me with a fire that made me glow.

  19

  Miss Bingley’s face looks like it could sour milk. She continued to smile at both of us, but her smile looked as though it was about break at any moment. All the while, Mr Darcy still held my hand, his fingers moving in slow circles that sent shivers up my spine. I turned away from her to smile tenderly at my husband, hoping to aggravate her even more. It was a wicked impulse, but one I think I could be forgiven for indulging in.

  “Mr Darcy,” she blurted. I turned to look at her just in time to see her eyes light up. “I almost forgot to tell you, so excited I was to hear of your engagement. We did not come alone today. We brought a visitor with us; one I think you will be amazed to see.”

  “Oh, yes?” said Darcy. “Is Charles here with you? I have not seen him since I left for Hertfordshire. I intended to call on him during the week.”

  “Oh, it is not my brother,” said Mr Bingley. “It is another, one you have not seen for quite some time.”

  Darcy tore his eyes away from me as if it pained him to do so. He barely controlled his impatience as he sighed and looked at Miss Bingley.

  “And so? Who is it, and where are they? Why the coyness?”

  Miss Bingley opened her mouth to speak again, but the sound of the French doors opening interrupted her. My heart sank as I turned in that direction.

  “Fitzwilliam,” said a soft, hesitant voice from the doorway.

  For a moment, Darcy’s hand tensed mine as he turned at the sound. He rose from the chair and turns in that direction, his mouth open. His face was white, and his eyes wide. He looks as if he had seen a ghost. My heart sank at the impact it had on him.

  “Amelia, I mean, Madame…”

  Madame Bessette came into the room with a soft laugh.

  “It is Madame, yes, you are correct,” she said. Her eyes dropped to the rug and then she raised in them to gaze at Darcy. “But I am afraid I am no longer a wife. My husband… my husband has died. He died some months ago.”

  “Oh,” said Darcy. He looked at a loss, and it pained me to see it. “I am… I am sorry for your loss, Amelia… I mean, Madame Bessette. When do you return to London? I have no notion you ever planned to return to England.”

  “I returned some weeks ago. I wished to contact you, but I was not sure if…” She glanced at me and her face coloured.

  I looked between the two of them, assessing the atmosphere between them. Amelia blushed prettily as she darted her eyes up to look at Darcy. Darcy, by contrast, looked pale and shaken as if he did not know what to make of the sight of her. I glanced at Mr Bingley and Mrs Hurst. Both those ladies could barely hide their smiles as they watched the old friends reunite. What did I care if they did? I did not love Darcy. He could be nothing to me even if he were my husband.

  And, yet the thought of marrying a man who loved another was deeply painful. This whole marriage was so far from what I always pictured for myself. I did not know if I would ever be reconciled to that fact.

  “Will you return to your parents?” said Darcy.

  “I will not. My father was… Not prepared to receive me after I married a French man. Fortunately, I am not without friends. My husband had some family in London, and they have offered me the use of one
of their houses. A house for myself and my little boy.”

  Darcy stared at her, stunned. “You have a son? Forgive me. I should not sound so surprised. It is just…”

  “Of course. It is strange to see your dear old childhood friend as a mother and wife now, is it not? I am sure I shall feel so when you and Mrs Darcy are blessed with a child.”

  Darcy started and looked at me. “Oh yes, of course. I will be overjoyed when Mrs Darcy and I are blessed with… Well, it was good to see you again, Amelia. Where are you staying?”

  I stared at him, aghast. Why does he wish to know where she lived? Surely he did not plan to keep her company there? No, he would not do so. I could not imagine that he would be so insensitive to plan a liaison with his wife sat beside him.

  “In Conduit Street,” said Amelia. “Not so very far from here. I hope you… I hope you and Mrs Darcy will do me the honour of visiting me sometime when you are ready to receive company again. I would very much like to introduce you to my little boy. I called him… I called him William after my dear friend.”

  I felt the blood drained from my face as I listened. Yes, it was common for people to honour friends by naming children after them, but to name them after a man one had a liaison with? Had they discussed marriage? No, this was too much. Surely Darcy would object to this?

  Darcy continued to stare at her as if thunderstruck. “Well, that is… Yes, I am sure Mrs Darcy and I will be delighted to visit you and your little boy as soon as we are settled.”

  They just stared at one another and it was as if the rest of us were intruders. I could not bring myself to look at Bingley’s sisters, knowing they were searching for any signs of discomfort. No doubt Miss Bingley thought it was a fitting punishment for me having the audacity to marry the man she had decided would be hers. I rose from the chair, and Madame Bessette’s eyes started towards me. She smiled and inclined her head.

  “I am afraid we are taking up far too much of your time. Your wife is charming, Fitzwilliam. She has made us feel most at home, but now that you are here we should allow you to be together.”

  She turned to Bingley’s sisters who had also risen from their chairs.

  Darcy still looked dazed, and he nodded at her words.

  “Oh yes, of course. It was very good of you to visit. I am glad you are back in London and in good health, Amelia.”

  I flinched at the intimacy in his voice, or perhaps it was just the way he used her Christian name. Of course, he should do so if he had known her all her life. Still, the intimacy made me feel ill inside. Was I going to have the humiliation of watching my husband court the woman he loved right under my nose? Would I become the laughingstock of London? Was any marriage worth this? Even Mr Collins, for all his faults, would not have done such a thing. Oh God, I was now starting to regret not marrying Mr Collins. Never did I think it would come to that.

  “Thank you,” said Madame Bessette. She offered a hand to Darcy who took it. “I hope to see you both again soon.” She smiled at him, and I noticed her press his hand. Whether he returned the gesture, I did not know as I had looked away.

  Madame Bessette swept from the room as Darcy stared after her. The Bingley sisters turned, and I noticed the smile on Miss Bingley’s face as if she had won a prize.

  Seeing the smile seemed to bring Darcy back to the present. He reached out his arm and drew me to him. I resisted for a moment, still upset by the display I had seen before me, and I was not in the humour for play-acting. But the smile on Miss Bingley’s face was not something I could resist for very long. I leaned against him, allowing my head to rest on his shoulder and smiled up at him as he gazed down at me. From the corner of my eye, I saw Miss Bingley’s smile harden.

  “Well, was this not a pleasant surprise, Mr Darcy?” she said. “I imagine you must be overjoyed to know your dearest friend from your childhood is back with you once again. How much you shall have to talk about. I know all the rest of us poor ladies will be quite left out, shall we not, Mrs Darcy?”

  “Oh, I should never leave my wife out of anything that involves me,” said Darcy. He lifted my hands to his lips, and despite my indignation, I do not resist him. “She is always at the centre of everything I do.”

  Miss Bingley’s smile tightened once again, and she swished from the room, Mrs Hurst hurrying to keep up with her.

  20

  I soon as they had left the room, I pulled myself away from my husband. He looked at me with some surprise, and I saw a brief glimpse of hurt in his eyes.

  “I hope you are feeling better now, sir?” I said. “I hope your overexertion from the night before has not left you ill?”

  Darcy sighed and rubbed his face. As he did so, he tousled his hair in a manner I had never seen before which I was forced to admit it was rather charming. He loosened his cravat and flung it to one side and dropped into a chair across for me.

  “Please, Mrs Darcy. I am exhausted. May we please pass one night in harmony with one another?”

  “If that is what you prefer,” I said. I pulled my needlework to me once again and tried to lose myself in it. As I did so, I could feel my husband’s eyes upon me.

  “Is it something I can do for you, sir?” I said after he stared at me for some time.

  “What? Forgive me, of course not.”

  “And why do you stare at me so?”

  Darcy shrugged, but I noticed a brief blush cross his face. “Is it not strange that a man would wish to look at his bride?”

  “It is in this situation, sir,” I said. “We are not a typical married couple, as you know.”

  “Ah, but we made a wonderful pair in performing as one, did we not, Mrs Darcy?”

  “Oh, I am sure we performed admirably in front of Mr Bingley’s sisters. However, I am not so sure we convinced Madame Bessette.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  I shrugged and continued with my sewing. Once again, I felt Darcy’s eyes upon me. I looked back defiantly to let him know I was aware he was doing it, and again he shrugged but this time with a small smile about his lips.

  “You were staring me up at me again, sir,” I said. “Is there something about my appearance that displeases you? Because I noticed you have done so before, at Meryton and Netherfield.”

  “Yes, I have always received great pleasure in looking upon you.”

  I lowered my needlework to stare at him in astonishment. “I beg your pardon? I never had the impression that you enjoyed looking at me. As far as I was aware, you looked to find fault with my appearance.”

  Darcy stared at me in astonishment. “Why in earth would you ever think such a thing? Why would I look at you because it displeased me to do so? That makes no sense. You must know, when a gentleman looks a lady, it is because something about her appearance pleases him greatly, and he receives great enjoyment from it. I do not know what you imagine he might do otherwise.”

  I returned to my sewing and picked at some stitches for want of anything else to do. My colour rose as I contemplated his words. As far as I was aware, he found my appearance most disagreeable to look upon. The first time he met me, he refused to dance with me, claiming I was tolerable but not handsome enough to tempt him. And yes I had always observed he looked at me most closely. But never did I imagine it was because he was pleased with my appearance. Despite my hurt and annoyance, I could not help feeling a flutter of pleasure.

  “I gather you and Madame Bessette have been friends for a very long time?”

  Darcy sighed and stretched his legs out before him. He leaned back in his chair, linking his hands behind his head as he gazed at the ceiling. I stared at him, never having seen him look so informal.

  “Yes, Amelia and I have known one another all their lives. She was one of my earliest playmates in Derbyshire. Her parents and my parents were good friends, so we were often in one another’s company.”

  “It must have been strange for you to watch one another grow together and then go your separate ways in life. I would have imagin
ed that two such close friends growing up together both of similar classes would have raised expectations in certain quarters.”

  Darcy’s face grew grim, and he lowered his hands to look at me.

  “A man of my class must always be assumed to raise certain expectations in certain quarters, Mrs Darcy,” he said. “Whether they are fulfilled depends on me alone. I would never allow myself to marry anyone unless it was my choice and my choice alone.”

  “Unless it was the lady’s choice too, is that not so?”

  “Of course,” said Darcy. He observed me. “But I always imagined that if a woman agreed to marry me, she was doing so because it was her choice, and not because she felt pressured into it.”

  I dropped my gaze to my needlework once again to hide the blush on my face. What else did he believe this marriage was but a way for me to avoid a more unpleasant alternative?

  “I was not speaking of that, sir. You say you would marry if it were your choice alone, but it is not just your choice is it? It must also be the lady’s choice. If she does not want you in return, then no marriage will go ahead. If, for example, the woman of your choice married someone else, and there was nothing you could do about it, then it would not be your choice.”

  Darcy tightened his jaw and watched me carefully. “Yes, of course, that can happen on occasion. I’m sure many men found themselves in such a situation. But sometimes, ladies might have an alternative before them that is not so appealing. May I ask where your question tend, Mrs Darcy? I cannot make them out.”

  I shrugged. “I am merely attempting to know you better,” I said. “That is not so strange, is it?”

  Darcy was still, and his eyes fixed on me, watching me. “No, it is not strange at all. I know that I can seem reserved. But you are my wife. You have every right to know me, and I am pleased that you intend to do so. I only hope you would be open with me in return.”