A Dishonorable Offer
Page 17
“Elizabeth, this is right.”
“No — no. You cannot marry me — I know you cannot. We cannot—”
“We cannot marry, but we need not. Elizabeth, you know what I want. I want you; come with me, live with me. Let me care for you — we shall be happy.”
Elizabeth shook her head. She turned away and held her thin elegant fingers against her mouth again. “I…I love my family too much. I cannot."
“Do not worry. Not about that.” Darcy took her hand again, and Elizabeth did not pull it away. “We can use misdirection. No one would be shocked if you took a post as a governess or lady’s companion to leave Mr. Phillips. I can make everything look respectable. Mrs. Collins might suspect, but if there is an illusion of propriety, people do not often challenge it.”
She stared at him, biting her lip.
He squeezed her hand. “I promise, it would not mean you could not write your friends, and you would be able to visit them whensoever you pleased. I would not rip you away from them. I know how your affectionate heart is tied to them. Please, Elizabeth, I will make sure you do not lose them when you live with me.”
“You have thought about this a great deal. Have you always planned to seduce me?”
“Have I seduced you?”
She didn’t look away, but let him pull her hand close to his heart.
Her lips were so sweet and entrancing. He leaned forward towards her, but Elizabeth pulled back. She stared into his eyes, searching him. “Wickham said you have wished to seduce me since we met. Is that true? Do you plan to seduce me and then abandon me once you’ve had your satisfaction? Should I…trust you?”
Her voice caught on the last words.
“You already said you trust me.”
“Yes.”
They kissed again. Elizabeth pulled her hand through his hair. Darcy closed his eyes and concentrated just on the feel of her lips molding against his. She poked her tongue out towards him, and the kiss became open mouthed and deep. It went on and on. She put one arm around his back and pulled herself tight against him, her belly against his, and he held her close and tight.
Then she pulled away again. “I cannot do it. Oh, I cannot. Not even if Jane does not learn of it. Forgive me, forgive me.”
He could not speak. He needed to convince her. But he could not speak.
“Oh.” Her voice was soft. “Fitzwilliam, I do not reject you."
She hesitantly laid her hand on his arm. An unexpected pain stabbed in his chest, and acid arose in Darcy’s throat. He’d never — she was not being coy. He knew her too well to think that. How had he not known she would refuse his offer? It was appallingly obvious.
“You do reject me." His voice came out harsh, and Elizabeth flinched back. Darcy’s hands shot forward to imprison hers. “You want me. You, you told me you wish for this. Don’t change your mind now. Not after you kissed me.”
“I know! I know I’m no better than a whore and a…a liar. I taunted you with what allurements I had, and I won’t do what I promised…I know.”
Elizabeth sobbed.
“No, no.” Darcy rubbed at her hands. He felt horrible. “You aren’t. You are perfect, and adorable. You…you are conflicted. It is right for you to want to do what you think is right. It is, it is. I don’t blame you for being unsure. I do not. You have every right to refuse me yet. I should not have said that. Oh, Lizzy, I don’t want you to feel anything but happiness.”
Elizabeth looked back up at him. She had never been so beautiful.
Reason, he should attempt to reason with her.
“I have thought on this subject. Many women who have taken lovers have been respected. Even in the Bible. Look at Abraham, he took a concubine. That is like a mistress. It was not wrong then. The…the need to only live together following a sanctified marriage, it is only a modern thing. There were counsellors during the time of Charles II who argued, after it was clear his queen would never bear an heir, that it was only Catholic superstitions that said it would be wrong for him to marry a second wife. I would not think less of you, my uncle would not. Reasonable people would not. You should not think ill of yourself. I do not think religion is so clear in its objections. Remember the gospels said the sum of all laws is to love thy neighbor as thyself. The purpose of prohibitions is to keep women from being harmed by unscrupulous men. I would always care for you. So you see, we would not be doing wrong.”
“I doubt that you could find a theologian who would agree with your interpretation.” Elizabeth looked up at him. Her cheeks were wet. But she smiled a little. She said earnestly, “I believe that you would not despise me. But… I owe something to…to society and myself.”
“Damn society!”
Elizabeth smiled at how violently he had sworn.
Darcy rubbed his forehead. “I beg your pardon — I should not speak so in front of a lady.”
A little of Elizabeth’s usual manner appeared in how she quirked her eyebrows. Darcy felt a flush of amused embarrassment; he was asking her to be his mistress, and apologizing for the use of an oath.
The lightening of the mood lent an edge of hope to Darcy’s next words. “Society can be fooled, and it is mostly inhabited by hypocrites. Its opinion should not be respected, only managed. And…and, I cannot believe the Almighty sees this pleasant touching, this happiness of two persons, I cannot believe that He treats it as so serious a crime as murder, or — or cruelty, or even indifference to the starving poor."
She was listening to him.
“Please, please — I only want to have you with me. I want to help you.”
“Help. You wish to help me. You — oh, you are such a — I do not need help. I am happy. Have you not seen that I am happy?”
“You won’t be. Not forever. Lizzy, there is a luminescent glow that shines from your soul; it will be blotted out if you live with those creatures forever.”
“I will be happy. I tell you I will! I swore to never let such external conditions make me unhappy. I can survive this way. I don’t mind it so much.”
“Please, I can give you everything. You will be happier. I could help Jane find a dowry. I could—”
The way Elizabeth’s face closed showed he had made a mistake. A stupid one.
Her voice rose as she spoke. “You can give me things. I don’t need things. I don’t need to sell myself. I won't let you use my body to get a dowry for Jane.”
Darcy smiled, he could only smile at her, and shook his head. “I do not want to use you. Without your desire, I could never enjoy your favors. I do not wish to buy a right to do something to you. I do not wish to do anything to you. I wish to enjoy that sensuous bond with you.”
She was watching him now, with something deep in her eyes. Darcy took her hand again, fondled it. “Oh, it is not your body; it is your mind that draws me — your adorable and perfect character. I feel far more affection and concern for you than I have ever felt for any other woman. It has always been who you are that drew me. I want you in my bed, I want you to talk with me, I want you to care for me, I want you because it is you.”
“Oh…” Her face was soft, and her lips pouted. She brushed lightly — oh, so lightly — her fingers against his cheek. “You hope to make me forget myself with words of love.”
Love. Darcy felt a punch in the gut. He’d sworn to never fall in love. He couldn’t lie to Elizabeth. “I do not love you — you know I swore to never fall in love.”
Her face fell. Darcy felt like a cur. If only he could find some way to make her see that his affection would be enough.
She said quietly, “That is why you will not marry me? Because you do not love me.”
“Marriage!” Darcy felt a sharp sting of irritation that cut through his anxiety to find a way to convince her. “I am not some Squire Booby who will marry the virtuous maiden if she refuses his protection enough times. Is that what you hope?”
“No! I have never thought you would marry me.” Then she growled. “I would not marry you even if you a
sked. After all you don’t love me. You’ve sworn to never fall in love.”
“Lizzy—”
“Only those who love me may speak to me so familiarly. You don’t love me. You want me to ruin myself and throw everything away, and you don’t even love me.”
“Love is a foolish fantasy. No one should let it govern their life. Don’t be a ninnyhammer.”
“It is my fantasy. I do not want to be so clever as you.”
Darcy realized that had not been the best argument he could make. “I do care for you, very, very much. I adore your conversation. And I have such an ardent desire to hold you and kiss you and to place you in my bed. I have dreamt about how happy we will be together. It simply is that I do not love you. Please, Lizzy, do not give up a chance to be happy.”
The hardness in her eyes faded away. He tried to take her hands again, but she did not let him, and he would not pursue her. She shivered in the cold wind. Her nose and cheeks were red from crying earlier.
Elizabeth asked, “Why don’t you marry me? If you are determined to marry a woman you do not love, why not me? What you claim to feel is very like what most men would call love. We would be happy together.”
“That is impossible and you know it. I do not understand why you even insist on asking. As I am not in love with you, I will not consider such a thing. I thought you were too clever to even ask.”
“I thought you were too honorable to make such a request as you made,” Elizabeth snapped back.
Darcy had no response.
“You beg me to live with you without protection of law or custom, in a situation where I could be freely thrown aside when you tire of me, but you become angry if I suggest we live together in a moral manner? I know you are too fair minded to seriously defend that.”
Darcy swallowed, but while she was talking and reasoning he had hope. “You are right. My anger was wrong. But it is impossible to marry you and—”
“I do not think that word means what you think it does.”
“Possible or not I will not marry you, but I would never throw you aside.”
“Like you never threw Miss Wickham aside?”
Darcy felt a surge of anger towards Wickham, and a little annoyance towards Elizabeth. “Whatever Wickham said, I did not abandon Miss Wickham. We had tired of each other, and I gave her four thousand pounds. I believe she has already married. I care for you far more than I did her, and I would give you twice as much.”
“Oh, you idiot!” Elizabeth threw her hands in the air. “I said I trust you. I don’t care in the slightest how much money you would give me when you tire of me.”
“I…perhaps you would tire of me instead.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Even if you do not love me… Please, I…I will not agree to what you ask. Are you certain we cannot marry?”
“I cannot. I would be a laughingstock. I would be shamed before my friends.”
“You do not care so much. You say I should not care about the opinion of hypocrites in society, and you should not either.”
“It is not the same. We could mislead society if you became my mistress, but not if we married.”
“I will not lie to my friends. I will not lie to my sister. Do you really mean to beg me to?”
He couldn’t. He never would lie to his friends in such a way.
Elizabeth’s face was hard.
Oh, God, he was losing her. He somehow knew, really knew, that she would never agree.
“Please, Elizabeth. Lizzy, don’t do this.”
He began to blink away tears.
She brushed at his cheeks, wiping away his tears with her gloves. “Oh, Fitzwilliam. Are you certain you do not love me? This hurts you so. Fitzwilliam, I love you. Does that matter to you? I know it would be such a shameful thing for you to marry someone like me, but we would be very happy together.”
“I swore. I never will love anyone. I will not be stupid like my father. I will not let this insanity take control of me. I will not do it. I swore.”
“Oh, yes. Because of your father.” Was that pity in her eyes?
She brushed her hand along his cheek once again. Then Elizabeth shook her head and stepped away, firmly and confidently.
“Fitzwilliam, what you ask I am determined to share only with the man I love and who loves me. I am determined to marry, and to marry only for that deepest affection.”
“Do you want me to say that I love you? Would you come with me then? Is the need for me to claim that stupidity so great?”
“I would be a sinner if I went with you. It makes no difference. I hope I would not have come with you if you had said that. I…I am determined to act in a way that Jane can be proud of me. But…remember, I love you, and I wish you could understand.”
“Don’t be a fool. Love destroys people.”
Tears beaded at the edges of her eyes, a drop fell down her cheek, joining the others she had cried earlier.
“Don’t be sad for me!” Darcy felt sick at the thought he could be pitied. “I am happy — you are the one who is mad, you plan to ruin your life for a hopeless dream. You shall never marry — I am real. I care for you. You do not really love me, for if you did you’d forget every other consideration. Please, Lizzy, I beg you. Come with me.”
She only shook her head with that sad smile. The tears left shiny tracks on her cheeks.
“Jane — I can help her to marry. She could have a dowry. More than five thousand. Much more — I say this not to buy you, but, but…just because I do not love you does not mean I do not—”
“Jane and I shall be well.”
“Jane won’t be well. You know it. You talk about how desperate she is. I’ve seen nothing of your strength of character in her. She will despair. Save her from that. Do you imagine Bingley will marry her?”
Elizabeth’s look showed she had that hope.
“It won’t happen. It won’t. You said you would do anything to give her a dowry. For her sake, come live with me.”
“We shall be well. Somehow we shall be well — I worry for you.” She took a long deep breath. Then another. He knew he did not love her and that she did not really love him, but his heart broke at the look in her eyes. “We should not speak again. I beg you, do not speak to me again. Goodbye, Mr. Darcy, and God bless you.”
She stepped forward and leaned up quick to kiss him on the cheek.
She walked away.
Chapter 14
Elizabeth walked away brushing at her eyes.
What Darcy asked was a sin. Good women did not do such things. If she had gone with him she would have lost Jane and her friends.
Charlotte might advise her to be pragmatic and turn back and tell Darcy she’d changed her mind.
Had she just made a terrible mistake?
Tears covered her cheeks. They were salty on her lips. The cold wind whined through the trees, shaking the bare branches and biting into her coat.
Poor Fitzwilliam, if…if she found the right words he would lose his fear of falling in love. If she had agreed to go with him as his mistress, she could have eventually convinced him to love her and marry her.
Elizabeth almost stumbled over her feet. She nearly turned around.
She was stupid.
Horrid sobs choked their way out of her chest. Elizabeth collapsed against the trunk of a mighty oak tree and curled her arms around her knees.
She had fancied herself in love. Her dear friendship was gone. Hope was gone. He was right; she never would marry, because she loved him.
How could he beg her to be his mistress? How, even if she did flirt with him too much, how did he think she would agree… She was a respectable girl. A good girl. Jane’s sister.
He loved her; he just had not realized it yet. He would come back and beg her to forgive him for what he asked and to marry him. And she would smile, and say it had just been that he was educated poorly, and she loved him so, and of course she would marry him.
Their kisses. Memories she would have forever
. Moments of perfect happiness. He wanted her to be happy, but she could not be happy that way.
Elizabeth’s thin handkerchief was soaked and freezing. She shivered in the cold wind.
I do not love you.
It hurt to hear him saying it again and again in her mind. But she loved him for it too. He was blunt, and unwilling to engage in pretense or deception. If only he hadn’t said that… Damn him for it. She would have gone with him in that moment when her heart was so full. I want you in my bed because it is you.
It was freezing. Elizabeth’s teeth chattered and she knew she must stand and return home to get warm. She must. She could not let anyone — anyone except Jane — see her this way. She could not stop weeping.
Things should have been better. Elizabeth pictured him as he looked after she pushed herself away. She imagined him saying, I care nothing about Lydia, I care nothing about money, marry me. I love you. I swore I never would love anyone, but I love you.
They were kissing again, and the hand on her hip reached back and squeezed her bottom…while the other hand reached for her bosom. His look was so tender; the way it had been when he spoke of the light in her soul.
Elizabeth stood. Her eyes ached from the tears, and her stomach felt empty.
She jumped up and down and clapped her hands together and briskly walked back and forth before jogging in place. She was freezing, her hands still felt numb from the cold, her nose was running, and the handkerchief was half frozen. She should not have sat still in this weather for so long.
After several minutes Elizabeth paused and panted, taking in deep breaths of cold air that burned at her lungs.
She forced herself to laugh. It was permissible to fantasize about such a great rich gentleman — but absurd for her to forget they were just fantasies.
No. It wasn’t a fantasy. He would come back.
Elizabeth laughed at the thought. She was being a goose. But in her gut it felt like a certainty. Someday he would realize. She no longer felt like crying. Maybe he would ride to her house and wait for her.