“I… I really don’t know,” said Darcy.
“No, I see that you don’t,” said Mr. Bennet. He pointed at him. “You don’t know my daughter.”
“Sir, on numerous occasions I have—”
“You know nothing of her. She is not the sort of girl who can be forced into things. My Lizzy, she is…” Mr. Bennet’s face twisted. “You don’t know her.”
“No, you are right,” said Darcy, the realization of it all like a gaping hole in his stomach. Elizabeth would not stand for what he had done to her. “I have wronged her. I have taken horrid advantage of her.” And ruined her, he realized. If she wouldn’t marry him after this, she would never be married at all.
“Would that you could have realized that several moments ago,” said Mr. Bennet.
“Indeed,” said Darcy in a whisper.
“I don’t like you,” said Mr. Bennet, looking Darcy over. “I don’t like you at all. And I’ll be damned if I let you hurt my Lizzy. Do you understand me? I am her father. I will protect her. No matter what the cost.”
* * *
Elizabeth gasped for air. She was halfway to the end of the Netherfield drive when Jane caught up with her, huddled into her coat.
Elizabeth was only in her evening gown, the cold wind biting into her bare upper arms and her neck. She didn’t mind. The cold was good.
“Lizzy,” said Jane. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t know.” Elizabeth shook her head, and she was afraid that now that Jane was here, that someone was showing her kindness, she might burst into tears.
No, she wouldn’t cry. She had just now been thrust into a world in which all choice had been stripped from her, and she had no control of anything, but she could keep herself from crying.
“Why did he do it?” said Jane.
“I don’t know,” said Elizabeth. “I had no sense that he would do anything of that nature.”
“Did he say anything to you beforehand?”
“I was insulting him, telling him that he had better stop behaving so badly,” said Elizabeth. “Do you suppose he did it for revenge, to teach me a lesson? It seems a rather hard thing to do in response. I was not any harsher on him than I had been before, I don’t think.”
“I have no sense of it,” said Jane. “You know him much better than me. I have barely exchanged three words with him.”
“He made some comment about my reputation before. Perhaps he thought I was… perhaps his opinion of me was so low, he thought me ruined already.”
“Oh, Lizzy, I am so dreadfully sorry.” Jane threw her arms around her sister.
“Everyone will think…” Elizabeth let Jane hug her, but she could not embrace her in return. “What if Mr. Bingley no longer wants to be associated with us because of this? They will say such dreadful things about me. They will say that I encouraged him in some way, and I swear I did not.”
“Mr. Bingley knows what Mr. Darcy is like. I am sure he will lay the blame where it deserves,” said Jane. She pulled back. “Well, perhaps Mr. Darcy will marry you.”
“Oh,” said Elizabeth dully. For some reason, this outcome had not occurred to her.
“Would you marry him?”
Marry him. Kiss him again. Have him tell her again in a velvet voice that she was perfect.
Her lips parted. “Oh,” she said again, her voice barely audible.
* * *
After that, the ball was basically over. There was no more dancing, just clusters of people talking amongst themselves. Elizabeth saw them when she was ushered through the rooms to find her mother, who was silent and quiet and huddled on a chair, tears leaking out of her eyes.
Elizabeth did not think she’d ever seen her mother thus.
By the time they had all been herded into the carriage, her mother had rallied. She was talking again, her voice shrill. “Mr. Bennet, you must make that man marry Lizzy.”
Lizzy’s father had not spoken at all. He was like a beaten man. He would not look at anyone, not at his wife or his daughters.
“Mr. Bennet, can you hear me?” said Mrs. Bennet. “I am right next to you, so I can’t see how it would be possible that you did not hear me. Look at me, I tell you. Look at me this instant.”
Nothing from Mr. Bennet.
The carriage lurched to movement, heading back toward home, to Longbourn.
“We are all ruined else,” said Mrs. Bennet. Then she squinted. “Lord, what has become of Mr. Collins? He came along with us in the carriage, didn’t he?”
“I don’t know, Mama,” said Jane in a low voice. “I did not think to collect him I’m afraid.”
“Oh, dear,” said Mrs. Bennet. “Do you think we ought to go back for him? He is our guest. But he must be mortified. He intended to ask Lizzy for her hand and now… oh. He would never marry her now. He could not. He would not marry any of our daughters now.”
“I think that I saw him with the Lucases,” said Mary.
“Oh.” Mrs. Bennet sat up straight. “Well, isn’t that just like Lady Lucas, snatching him away and parading her daughters before him. And I must say, Lizzy is not quite so plain as the Lucas girls, but how could she tempt him now? Lord. Oh, Lord, Mr. Bennet, what are you going to do about this?”
Mr. Bennet raised his gaze finally. “Quiet, Fanny.”
Mrs. Bennet huffed. “Mr. Bennet?”
“You needn’t worry about Mr. Darcy. He is quite desirous of Lizzy’s hand. But I shall not force her to marry a man that she despises.”
Mrs. Bennet sputtered. “What? If he will have her, then we are spared. How could you possibly—”
“He trespassed upon our daughter’s virtue against her will,” said Mr. Bennet sharply. “That is not the sort of man I want for a son-in-law.”
* * *
Later, Elizabeth was in her father’s study. It was late, but no one had gone to bed for the night. Everyone was far too on edge to know what to do.
Word had come from the Lucases that Mr. Collins would be staying there for the night, and the servant bringing it had asked for some fresh clothes for Mr. Collins to bring back for the morrow.
The younger girls, Lydia and Kitty, seemed excited about it all, unable to stop their chattering. Mary was dour as always. Mrs. Bennet was in a fury against her husband. Jane was trying to soothe everyone.
And so escaping to her father’s study was a blessing.
“I meant what I said.” Her father’s voice cut through the quiet. She had just been adjusting to the fact that she was shut away from her noisy family. The quiet was welcome. Now, she struggled to attend to her father.
She blinked at him. She could not speak. It was odd. She had the strangest sensation as though she was moving through the world without actually touching anything. She could tell that she was sitting on a chair, but she could not quite feel it, as though her skin was numb.
“I won’t force you to take that awful man,” said Mr. Bennet.
“But Papa…” Elizabeth furrowed her brow. “That will reflect badly on the entire family.”
“I don’t care,” said her father. “You need not suffer because of that man’s behavior. He had no right to do what he did. Anyone could see that you had not encouraged him in any way. And indeed, even if you had, there is no call for that sort of brutishness. He is a rich man, used to getting whatever it is he wants, and he wants you. Well, you are my daughter, and I won’t roll over and give you to him.”
Elizabeth licked her lips. “I-I think I have to marry him, Papa.”
“You do not. I am telling you, you do not.”
“If I do not marry him, the reputation of the entire family will be called into question,” said Elizabeth. “Jane may not be able to marry Mr. Bingley. He may not wish to sully his name by tying himself to us. And the other girls, all of them, they will never find husbands, and I shall surely never have a husband. If he will marry me, Papa, I think I must do it.”
Her father shook his head at her. “Did you encourage this man?”
“Do you wish to marry him?”
“I…” She swallowed. “My future if I do not marry him is to live out the rest of my days in this house with my miserable sisters and my angry mother, who will never forgive me. I think being the mistress of my own home might be preferable.”
“Yes, but to be tied to that Darcy!”
“Well, I am sure his house is bigger than ours. Perhaps I won’t have to see him too often.” She swallowed hard.
“Lizzy, I can’t let you do this.”
“I don’t see as I have much choice,” she said softly.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Elizabeth had listened outside the door to the conversation between her father and Mr. Darcy, but if she had expected to hear some kind of argument between them, she had been disappointed. They had done their business quickly, speaking in clipped and precise tones, perfectly polite.
It was all settled then. She was to be married and with all haste.
When Mr. Darcy came out of her father’s study, Elizabeth stole down the hallway.
Mr. Darcy was speaking as he walked down the hallway. She could hear his cane clicking against the floor. “I should like to speak to Miss Elizabeth if I might,” he said, and then he rounded the corner more quickly than she could have anticipated. “Oh,” he said.
For he could see her. She had not had the time to hide herself. She nodded at him, giving him a brief curtsy. “Sir.”
He inclined his head. “Would you walk with me?”
“Of course,” she said.
“Take Jane with you,” said her father from behind Mr. Darcy.
“What does it matter now, Papa?” said Elizabeth, shrugging. “I have no reputation to protect anymore.”
Mr. Darcy’s jaw tightened. He looked down.
So, he was ashamed of himself. She didn’t care. It did nothing to excuse him.
They went out into the garden to walk.
They were quiet for some time. She was certainly not going to begin any kind of conversation with him. He wanted this audience with her. He could speak.
By and by, he did. His voice was halting. “I thought I should… try to explain myself. What I did, I gave no previous sign that I would do it. You must wonder at my motivations.”
“You thought to embarrass me,” she said. “And then you felt guilty, so you made an offer for my hand.”
“Indeed, it wasn’t that way at all. The truth is that I keenly love and admire you. You are, indeed, quite different from other women.”
“Oh,” said Elizabeth. “I see. So, you don’t in fact like women?”
He was flummoxed. “What?”
“You intend to compliment me by saying that I am unlike the other members of my sex? I am a woman. How is it at all complimentary to be told I am not like a woman?”
He cleared his throat. “I only meant that you are unique in a pleasing way. To me. I am quite enchanted by you, and I always have been. But I realize you dislike me.”
“Well, I do now.”
“You told me, in fact, before our dance that you did.”
“I did not mean…” She cocked her head to one side. She took him in, his scarred face, his dark and expressive eyes, his broad shoulders. Why was she doing this? Her father had told her that she needn’t do it, and she knew he would have fixed it for her somehow. But it was the same as before, when she could not stop thinking of him, even though all the thoughts were monstrous thoughts. She was drawn to him in some perverse, awful way. She did not seem capable of staying away from him.
She had to admit, she would like it if he kissed her again.
“I knew that you would not consent to marry me if I asked,” he said.
“So, you took my choice away from me.”
“Yes.” He nodded. “It was wrong of me, I know. Amongst my sins, it is perhaps the most evil thing I have done. I reasoned that your choices were to be unhappy with that boor Collins or unhappy with me. I thought that I might be able to provide you with a more comfortable life, and I… well, I want you, Miss Elizabeth. Badly. So… I did what I did, but I confess that if I could, I would go back in time and take it back, for I would have you not to hate me, and I know that I have secured your ire for all eternity.”
She just gaped at him, his words reverberating through her. I want you. Badly. She didn’t really understand why they affected her. What did she care what Mr. Darcy wanted? He was a man for which she felt alternate shades of pity and revulsion, that was all.
But there was the fact that she had consented to be his wife.
No, she did not wish to think on any of that. She shoved all of it aside and lifted her chin. “You have indeed, sir. I loathe you, and I always will.”
* * *
“Have I done the right thing, Jane?” Elizabeth’s voice was a whisper in the darkness. She lay in bed next to her sister, and she did not even know if Jane was awake, let alone whether she would answer.
“Lizzy?” came Jane’s voice. She shifted in bed, rolling onto her side, and yawned. “What are you saying? Are you awake or talking in your sleep?”
Elizabeth picked at the covers over her chest. “Papa said I did not have to marry him.”
“Papa is a dreamer, and we both know it,” said Jane quietly.
Elizabeth turned to face Jane. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, Lizzy, I know you are his favorite, and that you worship him, but you must see it? He loves us, I know he does, but he has never seriously considered any future that was negative in any way, nor has he made any pains to prepare for one. He pokes fun at mother and the other girls and he holes up in his study. But for all his talk of how Mama will spend us out of house and home, he puts no regulations on the expenditures of the household, and he has saved nothing extra for us girls. He is… he means well, Lizzy, but he is overly optimistic about everything. You had no choice. You had to agree to marry Mr. Darcy.”
Elizabeth swallowed a lump in her throat. “Yes.”
“Surely you know that’s the truth.”
Elizabeth only breathed.
“I don’t agree with it,” said Jane, rolling onto her back. “It’s horrid, that’s what it is. Any man who wishes can force his lips on some woman, destroy her reputation, and force her to marry him. That’s uncivilized, if you ask me. How could you have guarded your virtue against such an attack? You were innocent, and he is a monster.”
“I don’t think he meant it,” Elizabeth said quietly.
“What do you mean? Of course he meant it.”
“I don’t think he thought it through,” said Elizabeth. “I think it was done impulsively.”
“Are you making excuses for him?”
“No, of course not.”
Jane sighed. “I suppose it would be better if you could find a way to forgive him. He is going to be your husband, after all.”
“Indeed, if anyone could forgive him, I thought it would be you, dear Jane. You are always seeing the best in everyone.”
“Well, Mr. Darcy’s best is buried somewhere deep inside,” Jane muttered.
Elizabeth sighed.
“Look, there is no use being melancholy over it,” said Jane. “You will be married to a man of means, and you will be able to use that money to secure your own comfort. That is perhaps a silver lining.”
“I will send for you as soon as you can, if you’ll come,” said Elizabeth.
“Of course.”
“Oh, but no.” Elizabeth shook her head. “I would take you from Mr. Bingley.”
“Oh, yes, I suppose I had not thought of that.”
“Well, you and Mr. Bingley will be married soon enough,” said Elizabeth.
“Lizzy, he has not asked me.”
“But I think he will,” said Elizabeth. “He adores you. Anyone with eyes can see so. Anyway, after you are married, I shall have Darcy invite you both to visit us. Bingley is his friend. He will consent to it.”
“It sounds lovely,” said Jane. “I hope it all
comes to pass just as you envision it. And if Mr. Bingley does marry me, and you cannot invite us, I shall make Bingley invite the two of you.”
“Yes,” said Elizabeth. “One way or the other, we will find a way to be together.”
“I will write you until we are reunited,” said Jane. “One letter a day, and you must do the same, whether you have gotten a response or not. In that way, it will be as though we are still together. We will know what is happening in each other’s lives.”
“Yes, I promise to write,” said Elizabeth.
Jane sniffed.
“Jane, dear, are you crying?”
“No, Lizzy, I would not cry, of course I would not. These are happy plans we make.”
The girls embraced in the darkness, and if their pillows were a bit wetter after, neither would own to it.
* * *
Mr. Darcy staggered across the room, leaning heavily on his cane. He was so intent on getting to his chair in front of the fire, he bypassed getting a drink entirely.
Bingley was standing by the fireplace. He turned, brow furrowed. “Darcy, let me help you.”
“No,” Darcy growled. His injuries were particularly painful that day, but he would not be assisted like an old man. He fell into the chair with a grunt, shutting his eyes.
“Are you all right?” said Bingley.
“No, I’m not all right,” muttered Darcy. “The entire left side of my body is in agonies. I am a wretch who has ruined the life of a very nice young lady. I am very far from all right.”
Bingley sighed.
“Oh, and you chastise my behavior, as well you should,” said Darcy. “Why, I am a worm. I am an insect.”
Bingley rolled his eyes. “Don’t be melodramatic. I’ll get you a drink.”
“I would be most obliged.”
Bingley poured some port into a glass and brought it to his friend. “Here.”
Darcy took the glass and gulped at it, too eagerly, he knew. He grimaced, forcing himself to stop. Gritting his teeth, he stretched his injured leg toward the fire, thinking that the warmth might help it.
“I think you have misrepresented the extent of your injuries to me,” said Bingley quietly.
“I have not,” said Darcy. “It is only that it is worse some days than others. This cold wet in the air lately, it makes everything ache.”
Mr. Darcy, the Beast Page 6
