The forceful rant broke off and the gentleman drew the deepest breath before resuming, just as forcefully.
“I will not have it, Elizabeth! To the best of my abilities, I will not have it.”
The shock caused by the display of temper greatly surpassed that of the declaration and of hearing herself addressed by her Christian name. Before she could collect herself enough to request clarification Mr Darcy spoke again, still prey to the greatest agitation.
“I know this is wretched timing, but it must be said. I would have found a way to speak with you this evening, were it not for–… I should have spoken days, weeks ago. No matter!”
His right hand cut forcefully through the air, once, and also cut the second rant short – more words than she had heard him speak in hours. And then his hand found hers, as did the other, to clasp them both between their chests, brought close again with one determined step.
“For all the poor timing, you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you, Elizabeth. Marry me. As soon as it could be arranged. If we are wed before–… That is, if the worst should happen…” He broke off again and released one of her hands to nervously run his fingers through his hair. “Damnation! How can this be said? I hate giving you pain in the midst of my proposal, but if we were to marry before you have to go into mourning, then you would not be unprotected for a whole blasted year and I would have the right to keep Collins at bay. He might still stake his claims as soon as he could do so, the wretched scoundrel, but you would not be at the mercy of strangers before I am allowed to ensure your welfare. Can you see my meaning and not judge me for importuning you at such a trying time?”
Then there was silence and he stood there, waiting. Waiting for an answer to something that made no sense to her. No sense at all. Ardent love. Marriage. Mr Darcy. Mr Collins. Mourning.
Elizabeth wrenched her hands free to cover her face, as the last heartrending notion cut through the haze, dispersing it with the heat of anger. How could he speak of her father as though he were already gone?
Yet the flaring anger did not survive the overwhelming tide of fear and misery.
“I must go home,” was all she could choke out.
“Of course. There is no time to lose. Let us take the shortest way back to the parsonage.” A strong arm was wrapped around her waist. “Come, my love, let us not tarry. We can speak further of this on the way.”
The steadying support was withdrawn before she could protest at it or at the appellation, and the arm was placed under hers instead. She could not object to that. At least not until she found her feet, her balance and a fast and sure step that would take her back to the personage in haste and silence.
Yet nothing could silence the unforgiving thoughts that whirled furiously in her head, leading to nothing but pain and confusion. Her father. Apoplexy. Mr Collins. Mr Darcy. Marriage. Mourning. Over and over. The surest way to lose her mind.
* * * *
‘Mr Bennet’s Dutiful Daughter’
will be available at Amazon later in the year.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Joana Starnes lives in the south of England
with her family.
A medical graduate, over the years she has developed
an unrelated but enduring fascination
with Georgian Britain in general
and the works of Jane Austen in particular.
You can find Joana Starnes
on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/joana.a.starnes
on Twitter at http://www.twitter.com/Joana_Starnes
or on her website at http://www.joanastarnes.co.uk/
Or visit her Facebook page
https://www.facebook.com/AllRoadsLeadToPemberley.JoanaStarnes/
for places and details that have inspired her novels.
Miss Darcy's Companion: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 28
