Chapter Six #2
The letter continued for several more pages, detailing practical considerations he would need to address.
Informing his family properly, for instance, among other arrangements.
By the time Darcy signed his name and sealed the missive, his thoughts felt considerably more ordered than when he had begun.
Writing to Bingley had clarified something important: he was not resigned to marrying Elizabeth Bennet.
He was, surprisingly, somewhat eager for it.
It was quite possibly the most sensible decision he had made in years.
Certainly more sensible than the matches his family had proposed, all ambition and alliance with no other practical consideration.
The question now was whether Miss Bennet shared any portion of his developing conviction that their accidental engagement might prove fortunate rather than catastrophic.
From their conversation yesterday, he rather doubted it.
She had seemed determined to find some way of dissolving their understanding and returning them both to the independence they had possessed before her impulsive declaration.
He would need to make his case and explain why proceeding with the marriage served both their interests better than attempting to retract what had been so publicly announced.
Would she be persuaded? He could not say with certainty. But he had to try.
The letter to Bingley would be dispatched on the morrow. Tonight, Darcy would prepare his arguments for the conversation that must occur when he called at Castlewood again. He would make Miss Bennet understand that marriage between them need not be the disaster she feared.
And if she remained unconvinced despite his best efforts? That was a possibility he preferred not to examine too closely just yet.
***
The following afternoon found Darcy once again at Castlewood Manor, this time with purpose sharpened by a night’s worth of careful reasoning.
Mrs Bennet received him with her usual effusive delight, but Miss Bennet’s expression when she entered the drawing room carried wariness.
Her eyes met his, as if seeking warning of impending difficulty.
“Mr Darcy.” She curtseyed. “Good afternoon.”
“Miss Bennet.” He bowed. “I hope I find you well?”
“As well as circumstances permit.”
Mrs Bennet settled herself near the doorway with needlework that would receive minimal attention whilst she monitored their conversation.
Darcy had anticipated this and adjusted his approach, accordingly, keeping his voice low enough to suggest privacy whilst remaining audible to propriety’s demands.
“I have received congratulations this morning,” he began without preamble.
“From several gentlemen I barely know. Our engagement is an established fact across the entire town. And thus, I have been giving considerable thought to our situation. Specifically, to your proposal that we attempt to dissolve our engagement once sufficient time has passed.”
Miss Bennet’s fingers tightened on the handkerchief she held. “And?”
“I believe we must consider the full consequences of such a course. News has a way of crossing to England. Letters will be written, acquaintances informed. Within a fortnight, our families in Hertfordshire and Derbyshire will likely know what has occurred here.”
“But we agreed—” She stopped herself, glancing towards the door before continuing more quietly. “We discussed maintaining appearances temporarily.”
“I know. And I have given that plan proper consideration. But I fear it fails to account for the reality of how such news propagates and what consequences follow from attempting to retract it. A broken engagement, even one dissolved by mutual consent with the most diplomatic explanations possible, creates its own form of scandal. You would be painted as having aimed above your station and failed to secure me, or as fickle in your affections. I would be labelled the sort of man who trifles with gentlemen’s daughters.
Neither outcome serves either of us well. ”
“So you propose we marry to avoid gossip? That seems a rather extreme solution to a problem of our own making.”
“I propose we marry because it is the most honourable course available to us both. I cannot walk away and leave you to bear whatever consequences might occur whilst I escape relatively unscathed.”
“That is very noble.” Her tone suggested nobility was not precisely what she valued at present. “However, marriage is a binding of two lives and a fundamental alteration of one’s entire existence.”
“I am well aware of what marriage entails.”
She stood abruptly, crossing to the window with agitation. “Are you? Because from where I stand, you seem to view it as merely a practical arrangement to resolve an awkward situation.”
Darcy knew he was in danger to let his frustration show, thus kept his tone as even as he could.
“I am not suggesting the situation is ideal. I am suggesting it is workable. We are both intelligent people capable of rational discussion and honourable conduct. These qualities can form a solid foundation for marriage.”
For a long moment, she looked at him, her expression complex and unreadable. Then she shook her head.
“There must be another solution, some way to resolve this without binding us irrevocably to a union neither of us truly chose.”
Disappointment settled within him, heavier than he had anticipated. “What do you propose?”
“I propose we speak candidly with my family and discuss the matter. Perhaps together we might devise an alternative that does not require marriage.”
It was not the answer Darcy had hoped for, but he recognised the sense in seeking additional perspectives. And if family counsel failed to produce alternatives, perhaps it might help Miss Bennet see the wisdom in proceeding with the marriage.
“If you believe your family’s counsel might offer solutions I have not considered, I am willing to hear them. When shall we convene this discussion?”
“In a couple of minutes, if possible. My mother and aunt would only be too pleased to have that conversation.”
“All right, then.” He nodded, then paused. “Regardless of what we ultimately decide, I want you to know that I hold you in high esteem and I do not regret having made your acquaintance.”
Her gaze softened fractionally. “Nor I yours, Mr Darcy.”
In the silence that followed as she left to gather her relatives, Darcy hoped the planned conversation would bring some much-needed clarity, one way or another.