by Elaine Owen
After a moment, Georgiana responded softly, “Fitzwilliam has good reason to question my judgment.” She looked appealingly at Elizabeth. “I would rather not say why. Please do not press me for an explanation.”
“Of course not, if it is not something you wish to share,” Elizabeth answered automatically, though she would sorely have liked to ask more. Curiosity burned within her. There was more on Georgiana’s mind than Mr. Bingley, but she realized that Georgiana had said all she was willing to say at this time. There would be no more information forthcoming, at least for now. She patted Georgiana’s arm reassuringly.
“If you want me to, I will speak to your brother as soon as opportunity presents. I will make your case as best I can, but you must not think he will be swayed by anything I say.” Especially these last few days, she thought but did not say. “He loves you, and he can be counted on to do what he thinks is in your best interest.”
“Thank you, Elizabeth.” Georgiana clutched her arm gratefully.
“Think nothing of it. This is what sisters are for.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Darcy was both surprised and suspicious when Elizabeth knocked on his bedroom door that evening. The last three days he had berated himself endlessly for falling prey to the trap he had always struggled to avoid: the victim of a fortune hunter.
He would have sworn by every sacred oath he knew, before he was married, that Elizabeth Bennet was not like any other woman in his set. Other women fought for his attention, threw themselves in his way, and did their best to attract his notice, but not Elizabeth. She had attracted his interest precisely because she seemed not to care for it. Every step he took toward her she had turned aside, subtly making him aware that his attentions meant nothing to her. She provoked him, teased him, and argued with him, always with that intriguing smile, and with every rebuff, his fascination with her grew. Against his better judgment, he was in danger of making her an offer before he left Hertfordshire, and he knew it. Retreating to the safe distance of London was as much a reprieve for him as it had been for Bingley, both of them resisting the charms of women they knew were not suitable for marriage.
Then fate, or some perverse mischance, had thrown him and Elizabeth together again in Kent, and he was lost almost before he knew it. Elizabeth’s eyes bewitched him; her smile enslaved him. They had shared one or two significant conversations, laden with hidden meanings, which he took to mean that she was waiting for him to declare himself. If Elizabeth had not been called away to her dying father so suddenly, he would have made her an offer before she returned home.
Now here he was, bound in marriage to a woman who did not return his regard, and he had only himself to blame. She had all but admitted that she had married him for material considerations, although those considerations seemed to be more for her family than for her personally. Darcy was aware that she spent almost nothing on her own needs, preferring to send gifts and small sums of money to her spendthrift mother and sisters.
The papers on the small desk in front of him, virtually untouched for some time now, sat silently mocking him. He had accomplished little work due to his preoccupation with his wife. There were tenant accounts to balance, the harvest to organize, and plans to complete for the purchase of needed equipment. Lady Catherine’s continued bitter complaints against his marriage, received in a letter from Rosings, lay unanswered in the middle of it all. All of it would have to be addressed, and the sooner the better—but he could not focus on any of it.
Well, he thought bitterly, if he had married a mercenary, at least she was an unselfish mercenary. She had also proven every bit as beneficial to Georgiana as he had hoped. Still, the thought of what might have been rankled sorely against the reality of what he now had: a marriage of duty alone.
Elizabeth knocked cautiously on her husband’s bedroom door that evening, wondering if he would be able to hear her rapping over the noise from outside. A heavy downpour, the result of another day of humid warmth, had begun to assault the house. But Darcy heard her well enough. After a moment, he responded by opening the door and looking at her warily. “Elizabeth? What brings you here?”
Never had she received such a stern response from her husband, but she responded as evenly as possible, reminding herself not to use the formal titles he objected to so much. “I need to speak to you, please, if I may.”
“On what subject?” Darcy’s face betrayed no warmth.
“It is about your sister. May I come in?”
Darcy hesitated and then stood aside reluctantly, his expression grim. Taking the gesture as an invitation, Elizabeth entered the room and waited until Darcy had closed the door behind her before beginning her piece. “If I may, I would like to speak to you about Georgiana—and Mr. Bingley.”
“Mr. Bingley?” Darcy raised a questioning eyebrow.
Elizabeth took a deep breath. “Georgiana has asked me to speak to you on her behalf. She believes that you are encouraging a match between her and your friend.”
Darcy’s eyes narrowed as he looked at her.
“I see. What of it?”
He was not making this easy for her. “Is she correct in her belief?”
Darcy frowned and made no answer. With deliberate step, he moved across the room to where a bottle of brandy sat on his small writing table. Elizabeth watched as he carefully poured himself a glass and sat down behind the desk, the dark mahogany gleaming in the candlelight. He sipped from the small glass and set it down before looking at her again. “My hopes for my sister’s future are my own. I see no reason to confide them to you.”
His manner chilled the air, but she was determined to see this through for Georgiana’s sake. She raised her chin and spoke boldly. “After speaking with Georgiana this afternoon, I have reason to believe that such a match would not be congenial to her.”
Darcy’s frown deepened into a scowl. “How did you come to discuss such a thing with my sister?”
“She told me that she does not have the feelings for Mr. Bingley that she should have in order to consider him as a marriage partner.”
“Indeed.” Darcy looked at her without blinking.
“And she does not think he will ever have those feelings for her, either.”
“I see.” Darcy paused, still staring at her with that unsettling gaze. “Why hasn’t Georgiana ever mentioned this to me herself?” His tone was heavy, laden with suspicion.
“She would like to, but she fears offending you.” The irony of having to speak to Darcy on Georgiana’s behalf about Bingley, of all people, was not lost on her. Did Darcy sense it as well? Elizabeth stood unmoving, her chin raised, waiting for his response.
“I see,” Darcy said again. Despite his words, Elizabeth felt that he did not see, but she could only wait for his response. Darcy took up his glass and absently swirled the remaining brandy in it while Elizabeth observed in bewilderment. At length, he stood and approached her, this time coming close enough to look her directly in the eye when he spoke again.
“Elizabeth, why did you marry me?” As he spoke, a loud clap of thunder outside announced the arrival of the storm that had been threatening all day.
Elizabeth’s astonishment knew no bounds. “I beg your pardon—what did you just ask?”
“Do not pretend confusion, madam.” His voice was cool, detached. “I have asked an honest question, and I am now requesting the favor of an honest answer. Why did you marry me?”
“Mr. Darcy, I fail to see what this question has to do with your sister.”
“It has everything to do with her. It is apparent to me now that you came to Pemberley to further your own family’s interests by working through me. You wish for Bingley to marry your own sister!” Darcy’s tone was accusatory.
Elizabeth gasped. She opened her mouth to protest, but the confusion of thoughts now racing together in her mind robbed her of the ability to speak.
“Bingley has not shown the slightest bit of interest in returning to Hertfordshire in order to court
Miss Bennet again, but you hope that if you can turn Georgiana away from him, he will pursue your sister once more!”
“I have done no such thing!” Elizabeth cried, finally angry enough to speak. “Georgiana asked me to speak to you for her, and so I have! Nothing else crossed my mind.”
Darcy crossed his arms. “But you do not deny that you wished for Jane to marry Bingley.”
“I do not deny it! But I would never try to separate two people who loved each other in order to advance my own family!”
Darcy flinched. “Bingley and your sister—Miss Bennet—would not have made a happy marriage. Separating them was an act of kindness on my part, and I am glad that I was successful in my efforts.”
Elizabeth looked at him with a kind of cold triumph. “So you admit what you did.”
“Why shouldn’t I? Toward him I have been kinder than to myself.”
Elizabeth wondered what he meant by that. “You think it kindness to separate two people who care for each other? Your only motive was to unite Bingley with your sister!”
A tinge of pink appeared on Darcy’s cheeks. “I do not deny that Bingley cared for your sister, but you cannot say that she had any particular regard for him. Whatever feelings she may have had went no deeper than his purse, I am sure. Better to separate them now, while he can still be easily untangled, than see them later within the misery of a loveless marriage!”
Elizabeth took a deep breath, trying to maintain control. “You mistake the situation entirely. Jane has never been mercenary. She had real feelings for Mr. Bingley; her spirits have never been the same since he left.”
“I am sure your mother was just as affected at the loss of such a suitor,” Darcy rejoined, his voice heavy with irony.
Elizabeth drew herself up to her full height. To quarrel with her husband in such a way served no one’s interests, and for Georgiana’s sake, it would be best to withdraw before saying something she would regret even more. “I am sorry that you are suspicious of my motives, but regardless of what you think of me, I ask you to think of Georgiana. She is not happy at the thought of being pushed toward Mr. Bingley, and you might try, with all your powers of discernment, to determine the reason why! That is the only reason I sought your attention tonight. I will retire now so as not to afflict you with my presence any longer.”
She turned and left the room much more quickly than she had entered it, barely refraining from slamming the door behind her. There she stood for a moment, covering her mouth with her hands, willing herself not to cry out against the unjust accusation Darcy had leveled against her. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing how badly his words had hurt.
It was not to be. Elizabeth was standing transfixed in the middle of the floor, hearing the rain pound against her windows, when Darcy followed her into her bedroom. She barely had time to turn around, let alone protest his intrusion, before he stood directly in front of her again.
“I do not appreciate my wife leaving my presence without as much as a by-your-leave.”
Furiously Elizabeth stood facing him. She would not dignify his words with a response. Darcy continued.
“Georgiana is painfully shy, as you know, and Bingley is affable to a fault. He is the least likely man I know of to try to take advantage of her more retiring nature. Besides this, there are advantages of fortune and connections that would make it a most desirable match for both of them. I will not push them into an understanding, but I hope that with time and familiarity, events will take their proper course.”
“Oh, they will take their course, so long as it is the course you have chosen for them!” Elizabeth replied spiritedly. She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth, but it was as though a fount had opened, and she could no more stop what she said now than she could hold back the rising tide. “Do you ever trust your friends to direct their own affairs? I doubt that Mr. Bingley would desire or welcome your interference in his life, if he knew of it!”
Darcy blanched, taking a step toward her. “I have acted only with his best interests in mind!”
“He might not thank you, if you were to tell him what you were doing. And Georgiana certainly does not agree with your present course of action.”
Darcy moved away from her until he stood on the other side of the room, then he turned to face her, his fists clenched tightly.
“I asked you once before, and I shall ask again now. This time I would be pleased to receive an honest answer. Why did you marry me, Elizabeth?”
Elizabeth looked back without wavering. “If you insist on knowing, my uncle told me that I should accept you in order to help my family.”
“So you admit it! You married me for my wealth and connections!” Darcy’s disgust was almost palpable.
“I have no wish to deny it! And I am not ashamed of the choice that I made,” she answered, looking at her husband with every bit of dignity she could muster. “You made an offer that would preserve my family in their home and provide for my future in a way I could never hope to do otherwise.”
“But you had no thoughts or feelings for me as a man? I cannot believe that.”
“How could I have feelings for you, when you were the means of unhappiness for my most beloved sister? But I have other reasons; you know I must.”
Darcy leaned against the wall, his arms folded, with an air of cynical disbelief. “I would appreciate it if you would enlighten me, madam, on issues of which I am so woefully ignorant.”
Elizabeth saw that he meant to be indifferent, and her restraint began to loosen. “Your character was fixed in my mind when I heard the recital of the wrongs you committed, the extreme cruelty you carried out, against Mr. Wickham. You cannot deny ignorance there!”
Darcy changed color immediately. He stood up straight again, away from the wall. “My own wife accuses me of cruelty to Wickham? You take an overly eager interest in his concerns, madam!”
“I know how abominably you used him! How casually you cast off the friend of your youth, how you deprived him of the living destined for him in your own father’s will, and how you treat the mention of his hardships with disdain! How do you defend your actions there?”
“His hardships!” Darcy scoffed, taking quick, angry steps across the room. “I suppose he never told you how I paid him for the living at his request, and how he came back to me later and demanded the same living again! No,” he continued, turning to look at her, “I see by your face that he did not. But do not blame yourself, madam, for believing his lies. You are not the first woman he has deceived.” Darcy’s voice was as bitter as she had ever heard. “I would have told you the truth of his tales before, if you had ever asked.”
“You have never allowed me to do so!” Elizabeth finally allowed the anger, hurt and confusion from the beginning of her marriage to find full expression in her words. “From the first day of our acquaintance until now, you have treated me as an indifferent, sometimes an unwelcome, association! You disdain my family and despise my condition in life as inferior to your own!”
“I deny that!”
“The very first time we ever met, you said I was not handsome enough to tempt you!”
Darcy stood in stunned silence as he looked at her.
“And you yourself told me that you could scarcely believe you made me an offer, considering how low my connections are compared to yours!”
“Is your uncle not in trade? And was your condition in life not decidedly inferior to mine, before we married?”
Elizabeth noted the comments, and although she did her best to ignore them, they were not likely to make her any more reconciled to her husband. “Even before then, when I first knew you in Hertfordshire, you impressed me as the most arrogant man of my acquaintance. You despised everyone as beneath you in wealth and importance, and insulted not just me but nearly half the neighborhood.”
Darcy stood looking at her with an expression she had never seen before. She continued, “Despite my best efforts to be a loyal, congenial wife, you
have used me without any consideration for my feelings. My uncle warned me that you would see me as your inferior, and he was right. You order me about like a common servant, dictate the terms of my dress, and expect me to make no objection when you make plans or break them on a whim. I am not allowed have my family at Pemberley, I am not permitted to see my aunt and uncle, and you expect me to support your sister more than I am allowed to support my own! Your every manner is one of condescension, arrogance, and a willful indifference to the feelings of others! Your actions have not been those of a gentleman.”
Darcy took in a sharp breath. “You cannot mean that.”
“I mean all of that and more besides. I have not enough language at my command to express the depth of my resentment toward you. There is no man in the world I would ever have been less likely to want as a husband.” She regretted that last statement almost at once, but it was too late to take it back now.
“That is enough, madam! I have heard enough to convince me of what your feelings have been all along, and I can only be ashamed now of what my own have been. I will bid you a good night.” With an expression of utmost fury, he took the several steps that led to the communicating door to his room.
He had just laid his hand on the doorknob when Elizabeth dared to ask him, from her station across the room, “Mr. Darcy—why did you marry me?”
Darcy turned back to look at her one last time, his eyes as black as night. “It matters not, madam, now that I know your true sentiments. You need not fear that I will ever impose my presence upon you again.” He closed the door behind him just as another roll of thunder broke out, and he was gone before Elizabeth could say another word.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
From sheer shock Elizabeth fairly collapsed into the nearest chair and cried. Her emotions slammed over her in waves; she nearly shook under their assault. She clasped her hands together in her lap and bit her lip until it hurt, determined not to allow the sounds of her weeping be audible over the storm to the occupant of the adjoining room. Not for anything would she give her husband the satisfaction of knowing how much his words had hurt. After many minutes, knowing that she was not equal to her maid’s inquiring gaze, she rang for her and then stepped behind her dressing screen. When Cora entered, she informed her that she was not feeling well and did not desire any assistance that night.