Mary furrowed her brow. “I do not believe you are truly penitent, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth groaned. “I am exceedingly penitent. I am starving, and it is barbaric not to feed me.”
“Fast and pray,” said Mary, bowing her head. She left Elizabeth alone.
But hours later, her mother came to her room, with Mary and Collins in tow.
“Oh, wonderful news,” said her mother, clapping her hands together. “I had given up on you, Lizzy. I cannot believe it! After all these years.”
Mary and Collins didn’t look so happy.
“I have given him my consent,” said Collins. “But truly, I do not know what lesson you will have learned from such a turn of events. In some ways, I think you are being rewarded for your transgression.”
“Yes, it would be better if you reflected on your sins for some time longer,” said Mary.
“What are you all on about?” said Elizabeth, who was snappish from hunger.
“Although I do think he seemed a bit sickly,” said her mother. “You’ll want to have a son as soon as you can, or he might up and die on you, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth looked back and forth between the three of them. “Have a son? Are you all stark raving mad?
“Oh, darling.” Her mother reached for Elizabeth’s hands and clasped them. “You are to be married. Mr. Darcy came to ask Mr. Collins for your hand. He has just left not a quarter of an hour ago.”
Elizabeth pulled back her hands. “Married? But…” Why was he doing this? Did he truly love her after all?
“Yes, I’m so pleased,” said her mother. “I always knew you could make a good match. Well, this one has squandered a good deal of his fortune, but they say he still has his estate, and that is something. They are not making any more land, you know, Lizzy.”
“He didn’t want to see me?” Elizabeth asked. Maybe Collins had kept Darcy away. Maybe he had asked after her, but been told—
“Oh, he seemed in a hurry,” said Collins.
Her mother patted her cheek, grinning. “But don’t you worry about that. You’ll see enough of him once you’re wed.”
Indeed.
Except he was only marrying her out of some misguided idea of honor. He had come here because he felt trapped into the marriage. After what had happened in his past, he wouldn’t have allowed her to be ruined, not after what had happened with his sister. He was doing his duty, that was all.
That was all.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Elizabeth hadn’t wanted this. She hadn’t wanted to put him in this kind of a position. She was the one who had acted recklessly, not him, and he shouldn’t have to give up what he wanted for someone like her.
She was not the kind of wife a man like him should have.
Darcy should have a young wife. A pure wife. A proper wife.
Not a woman who would bring scandal down on her entire family just to be near a man. She was a horrid person, and she couldn’t imagine that she would make a good wife. No, she was corrupt through and through.
She wished that she would have woken up earlier that morning. If it had still been dark, she would have made it back to her own room without incident. No one would have seen her, and none of this would have mattered. But instead, she had slept until dawn, and then she had ruined everything.
When she saw him, she was going to have to tell him that he could get out of it. He needed to know that she didn’t want to force him into something he didn’t want. She hadn’t wanted to take anything from him he didn’t want to give. This was too much. And it was all her fault.
She had already wrecked her family. She didn’t want to wreck him too.
But she had no way of seeing him. The wedding was set for the end of the week. A special license had been obtained, given the circumstances of their union. She would not see him before the ceremony.
He sent a letter, which was short, saying that he was away, making arrangements at his estate so that she would be comfortable there. He signed the letter “With all my love, Darcy.” But it was such a short letter, and it was difficult to read his sloppy handwriting. It didn’t seem he’d taken much care in it.
She did not have time to write him back, so she made up her mind that she would simply have to tell him at the church. She would interrupt the vows and set him free. She knew no other way.
It would be even more of a scandal for her family, of course, if the groom backed out in the middle of the ceremony, but it hardly mattered. She was already ruined. It wasn’t as if things could really get much worse.
The morning of the wedding, the household maid helped her into her wedding gown. The maid wanted to fuss over Elizabeth’s hair, and Elizabeth tried to argue her out of it, but the maid wouldn’t hear it. Elizabeth tried to tell her that it didn’t matter, that the wedding wasn’t actually going to happen. She was going to interrupt the entire thing and end it before it even got started.
But when the maid was done, and she surveyed herself in the mirror, she felt a twinge.
She looked like a bride.
And she had so long ago given up the dream of ever getting married. When she had been small, she dreamed of her wedding day like any other girl. She had thought of it then as an eventuality, something she was sure to experience. Time had ripped that assurance away from her, and having it given to her in this way…
Maybe she should say nothing. If Darcy was willing to marry her, maybe she should simply let it happen. After all, she had thought that they would suit each other well, all those years ago on the ship. And she knew he was attracted to her. And that he did care for her, at least he didn’t wish her harm. There were marriages built on far less, and this was really the answer to all of her prayers.
But could she do that? Could she allow it all to happen when she had expressly told him that he didn’t need to marry her? She said she would take whatever he could give her. This… it all felt like a manipulation.
She did not know if she could bear it if she awoke every morning to see resentment in his eyes.
She moved through the rest of the morning feeling uneasy. She was excited to see him. She couldn’t help that. But she was frightened as well. When she spoke up during the ceremony, she was going to make everything bad for herself again. Would she have the courage to do such a thing?
Her mother bundled her into the carriage, babbling about how it was a shame that Elizabeth didn’t have any attendants.
“Mama,” Elizabeth sighed, “we’ve been over this.”
“Oh, I know,” said her mother. “But I still think it’s awful that there’s no one—”
“Well, there isn’t anybody.” Elizabeth looked out the window. The carriage seemed to be taking even longer to get to the church than usual.
“I just think that possibly if you’d asked one of your sisters—”
“I couldn’t,” said Elizabeth. She had still not spoken or written to Jane. A letter came from Jane, but Elizabeth could not bear to even open it. She did not know why, but she did not think she could bear the censure of her elder sister.
“I suppose not, but I feel that you’ll simply look so lonely without attendants. Why, when I married your father, I had five, you know.”
“I’m already ruined for good society, Mama. It makes sense that I’m lonely.” Elizabeth fidgeted with her gloves. She wished her mother would stop talking. It was making it so much harder to deal with what was happening. Outside, the scenery moved by at a crawl.
“Now, don’t say that. He’s marrying you. I suppose it might be a few years, but I’m sure that eventually you’ll be invited to some events again. The gossip will die down.”
But that wasn’t true either. Because before the morning was over, Elizabeth would be back in her bedroom, probably with her mother wailing outside her door. Elizabeth glared out the window. Would they never arrive at the church?
“Elizabeth, I swear I do not understand you,” said her mother. “I would think that you would be overjoyed at this turn of events,
but you have been so subdued since you heard the news. Is there anything you want to tell me?”
“Tell you?” Elizabeth turned to look at her. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Well, do you like this man? I suppose it might not be important, but if you really despise him, I want to know. We can’t very well stop the marriage, but I can invite you home for long holidays several times of the year, keep you away from him as much as possible.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Oh, Mama. No, I like him. I…” She looked at her hands. “I love him.”
“Well, then…” Her mother furrowed her brow, seemingly at a loss. “Perhaps… and I mean to put this as delicately as possible, my darling, but perhaps the losing of your virtue was traumatic for you? Perhaps you are frightened of having to do that again?”
Elizabeth flushed. “No, Mama, no.”
“I can assure you that it does get easier. Even… pleasant.”
“Please stop talking about this.”
“I do not know that it is not a worse experience if one is not wed,” said her mother. “Perhaps it is much more frightening if you are worried the man involved will abandon you.”
“Please, Mama.” Elizabeth was now thinking about the fact that the only experience her mother must have with the act was with Elizabeth’s father, and that was something she never wanted to think about.
Luckily, they finally arrived at the church.
Since she had no attendants, the procession was to be pitiful—only her mother, Mr. Collins, and herself. But she was glad of this, because she was happy enough not to have even more time between the time that she had to end this farcical marriage.
Mr. Collins met them at the entrance to the church. He had been there since earlier, ostensibly to greet the guests. But as they invited no one, since everyone in the family was angry with Elizabeth and most of their friends were too scandalized to even think about showing their faces, there were only a few of the locals. Elizabeth could see them as she peered inside.
The wedding march began to play.
“Ah, that will be us, then,” said Mr. Collins, offering her his arm.
Elizabeth had a pang, thinking of her father, who could not give her away, because he was gone. But then, she was glad. This would not be a day of joy, so she was happy her father would not see it.
Her mother fussed over her veil, and then moved behind her. She would bring up the rear of the procession.
There was a sour taste in the back of Elizabeth’s throat.
She stared out into the church, at the fifteen or twenty people gathered there.
At the front, the vicar stood at the pulpit, looking somber.
And next to him…
Oh, God, there was Darcy.
A shudder seized her. She wanted him, wanted to be close to him forever.
Oh, how could she stop the wedding? How could she?
They stepped out between the pews, growing closer and closer to Darcy.
She tried to gauge the expression on his face, but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He wasn’t smiling, but he didn’t look cross either. He seemed proper and solemn and… was there a look of eagerness about him, or was that wishful thinking on her part?
Everyone in the church stood up for her.
The music pumped out of the organ, and she and her Mr. Collins kept time with their slow steps.
Every step took her closer.
She felt vaguely faint, and she wished she’d eaten a little less breakfast that morning. She was still trying to make up for that dreadful fast. But it wouldn’t have much mattered, she didn’t suppose. She was going to be out of sorts until she got this done.
The only way to excise the awful feeling was to stop the wedding.
After, she would not feel good about her life, but there would at least be a little relief.
They stopped moving, only steps away from Darcy. He was looking at her, but he could not meet her eyes because of the veil.
The vicar cleared his throat. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this Man and this Woman in holy Matrimony; which is an honorable estate, instituted of God in the time of man’s innocency, signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his Church.”
Elizabeth’s mouth felt dry. Suddenly, all the things that she was going to say flew out of her head. She had practiced them over and over, but now her mind was frustratingly blank.
The vicar continued. “Which holy estate Christ adorned and beautified with his presence, and first miracle that he wrought, in Cana of Galilee; and is commended of Saint Paul to be honorable among all men: and therefore is not by any to be enterprised, nor taken in hand, unadvisedly, lightly, or wantonly, to satisfy men’s carnal lusts and appetites, like brute beasts that have no understanding; but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, soberly, and in the fear of God; duly considering the causes for which Matrimony was ordained.”
Well, it didn’t matter what she said, did it? She would say whatever she could, even if it made no sense. If she spoke up, it wouldn’t matter.
“First, it was ordained for the procreation of children, to be brought up in the fear and nurture of the Lord, and to the praise of his holy Name,” droned the vicar.
Oh, now she was starting to remember. How had she forgotten? She had only gone over this constantly this past week.
“Secondly,” said the vicar, “it was ordained for a remedy against sin, and to avoid fornication; that such persons as have not the gift of continency might marry, and keep themselves undefiled members of Christ’s body.”
She looked at Darcy again, but his eyes seemed to have glazed over. What was he thinking? If only she knew. She felt her hands starting to sweat inside her gloves. She looked up over the vicar’s head at the window, where sunlight was streaming in over all of them. Why was she getting married on such a pretty day? With what she had to do, it would have been more fitting if it had been gloomy and cloudy.
The vicar coughed. “Excuse me,” he said. Returning to the text, he read, “Thirdly, it was—” He coughed again. He snorted a little, and rubbed his nose. “Beg pardon. Thirdly, it was ordained for the mutual society, help, and comfort, that the one ought to have of the other, both in prosperity and adversity. Into which holy estate these two persons present come now to be joined.”
Elizabeth’s body went tense all over. The time to speak was coming, and she knew what she had intended to say, but now she was beginning to think that it was a bad idea on the whole to say it at all. What if she gave Darcy the wrong idea? What if there was a chance, an infinitesimal chance, that he truly did want this marriage? And if she thoroughly botched it, there would be no way to salvage things. So, perhaps she should say something else. Perhaps. But what?
“Therefore, if any man can show any just cause,” said the vicar.
And then the vicar was overtaken by a fit of coughing.
Elizabeth chewed on her bottom lip. What to say, what to say? She tapped her foot against the floor beneath her gown, trying to put together something that said what she wanted but was not actually so strongly off-putting… She was having no luck whatsoever.
The vicar rubbed his nose again. “I’m so very sorry. Where was I?”
Elizabeth was seized by panic. What was she going to say?
“If any man can show any just cause,” repeated the vicar, “why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter for ever hold his peace.”
Elizabeth started.
That was her cue.
She opened her mouth to speak. No sound came out.
Seconds ticked by.
The vicar gave a cursory glance to the gathering, and then turned back to his book.
Elizabeth licked her lips.
The vicar cleared his throat. “No one? Well, then let’s—”
“I have something,” said Elizabeth.
The vicar looked at her.
Darcy looked at her, and he looked the most stunned of them all.
Elizabeth gulped. “May I… may I speak with the groom for just a moment?”
The vicar harrumphed. “Now see here, this is most irregular. We are in the midst of the ceremony—”
“What is it?” said Darcy, stepping down from where he stood next to the vicar to face her.
Elizabeth moved away from Mr. Collins. “You don’t have to do this,” she whispered fiercely.
Darcy looked around. “I think it’s bit late to get out of it.”
“No, it’s not. And you do want to get out of it.” She swallowed again. “Don’t you?” Her voice was unsteady.
“Do you want to get out of it?” he said.
“I don’t want it if you don’t want it,” she said, chewing on her bottom lip again.
“Oh, what kind of answer is that?” said Darcy. “Why are you saying this?”
“Well… you came to see Mr. Collins, but you didn’t come to see me. I assumed you were doing this out of duty and honor, not because you truly wanted to. You’ve resisted marrying me before, and I didn’t want—”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” said Darcy. “I would have come to see you, but I was in a desperate hurry to get to the apothecary before he closed.”
“Because you needed laudanum,” she said.
He drew in a breath. “If you want out of the marriage, considering how destroyed I am—”
“No,” she said. “No, if you do not mind—”
“I told you I loved you, did I not? Did you think I was lying?”
She didn’t respond.
Darcy turned around and went back up the steps to stand in front of the vicar.
The vicar looked perturbed. “Well, is that all, then? Can I continue?”
Everyone looked at Elizabeth again.
“Yes,” she said in a soft voice.
The ceremony went on, but she didn’t hear most of it. She could only think of what Darcy had said to her. He loved her. He loved her.
Nothing else mattered.
There was kneeling and hand holding and responses and a ring…
Mr. Darcy's Indiscretions Page 54