Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
"Elizabeth is not marrying you." Darcy's words ricocheted in Elizabeth's mind. "Because she is marrying me."
The collective gasping of the entire room only heightened the racing of Elizabeth's heart.
She'd thought he would. He was too honorable to have carried along with her the way they did the last two days without at least having some intention of marrying her, but it was entirely different to hear him announce himself so resolutely to a room full of his relatives and hers.
"You cannot mean that!" Lady Catherine shrieked. "She has sunken her claws into you further than I'd thought!"
"I do mean it," said Mr. Darcy, unswayable as ever, "and it is not Elizabeth who has sunken her claws into me. If anything, you have your parson here to thank for driving her into my presence weeks ago."
"I—I cannot possibly—no, that is—that is untrue," Mr. Collins sputtered. "I would never act in contrary to the wishes of Lady Catherine."
"Oh, Mr. Bennet!" It was Mama who shrieked now. "You cannot let them deny it. Mr. Darcy said he would marry our Lizzy. We must have them marry at once!"
"Now, now, " Papa began.
"Before he changes his mind!" Mama cried even louder. "Have you seen the size of this house, Mr. Bennet?"
Elizabeth cringed. If there was anything to possibly dissuade a man from marrying any of the Bennet sisters, it would be Mama's blatant avarice. She could feel Mr. Darcy trying to catch her eye, but for the first time ever, she feared meeting his.
What would she do if his gaze carried only reproof and regret?
"I love Elizabeth," he said when she did not speak, his voice and his words a balm over her agitation. "And it is only because I am waiting for her to reach her majority that we have not yet married."
"Do you hear him, Mr. Bennet!" Mama shouted.
"I do, I do, of course I do," Papa mumbled.
"Cousin Bennet, you must fix this at once!" Mr. Collins insisted, stopping just short of stomping his foot. “Mr. Darcy cannot possibly be allowed to lower himself by marrying a woman such as—"
"Be careful what you say of my daughter," Papa managed to sound severe for once. "I doubt you wish to insult, once more, the woman you claim to wish to marry."
Papa's rebuke seemed to shut Mr. Collins up, and Papa turned his gaze to Mr. Darcy instead.
"You claim you love my daughter," he said with his own set of crossed arms, "but I cannot help but doubt such a claim because I know my child. I would not put it past Elizabeth to request your help in fabricating such a betrothal to avoid marrying when she should."
"Is that what you really think of me, Papa?
" Elizabeth stepped forward. Her voice cracked.
What had happened to the beloved father of her childhood?
"I love Mr. Darcy, as he claims to love me.
And if it were not for fear of your refusing your blessing, we could have wed much earlier than we currently can aspire to. "
"You would not dare refuse your blessing, Thomas!" Mama shrieked.
Lady Catherine barked at Mama, but even her imperiousness was no match for Mama's desperation. Mr. Collins rushed to comfort his patroness, who by now had no patience even for him. Mr. Darcy reached out for Elizabeth, who gladly took his arm.
"Papa." Elizabeth turned to the man who'd sired her, while her arm remained rooted with the man who'd saved her. "Would you deny me the man I love?"
Papa's eyes shifted, from Mr. Darcy to Elizabeth, and then from Elizabeth back to Mr. Darcy. When he finally sighed, he looked as if he had suddenly aged a dozen years.
"Perhaps the three of us need to speak," he said.
"Oh, yes!" Mama declared. "We must insist that Elizabeth know what is good for her, and when a man like Mr. Darcy offers—"
"I do not mean you and I and Elizabeth." Papa glared at Mama. He seemed to watch her for a moment before sighing again. "Mr. Darcy, can you and I, and my daughter, convene in your study, if it is not too inconvenient?”
Lady Catherine protested, claiming that any disciplining of a woman as unscrupulous as Elizabeth ought to be done in the presence of other witnesses, but Papa seemed unaffected by her cries.
There was some benefit, Elizabeth supposed, to Papa's having learned to ignore hysterical women so efficiently over the years.
"I would be honored," said Mr. Darcy. "This way, please."
Father, daughter, and suitor ignored the three remaining guests as they exited the room, no matter how much the latter huffed and puffed.
Darcy had half a mind to take a stance behind his expansive desk and to exert all his power as the master of Pemberley.
He thought better of the idea once he saw Elizabeth's slight tremble of the lips.
She'd appeared strong enough in front of Aunt Catherine, but perhaps she needed a more reconciliatory fiancé rather than a combative one for the more private audience they now conducted.
With trained civility, Darcy turned to offer Mr. Bennet a brandy.
Elizabeth rushed to her father before Darcy could say a word.
"Papa." She clasped his hands, the natural warmth of her nature overwhelming her.
As a person raised in a less demonstrative home, Darcy found the exchange fascinating.
"I hope you do not mean to still argue your point.
You can try to force me back home if you wish, but do know that I will never agree to marry Mr. Collins. "
Mr. Bennet frowned. There was something about the way he hunched over his daughter that struck Darcy, almost as if the man was suddenly tired and frail from the short walk from the drawing room to Pemberley's study.
Mr. Bennet stroked his daughter's hand, the gesture more tender than Darcy had anticipated given the strain of their separation and the explosiveness of their reunion.
His voice seemed to crack as he said, "Shall we talk?"
Elizabeth's frown mirrored her father's, but she nodded, and Darcy proceeded to arrange the three of them in three separate chairs that faced each other in a roughly-defined triangle.
Mr. Bennet rubbed his hands over his face once they sat, Elizabeth remained pensively perched on the edge of her chair, and Darcy tried to decide the best course of action.
He'd imagined having to seek a parent's blessing one day, but he'd not quite prepared himself for the present circumstances.
Did Elizabeth truly mean to say she loved him? Or was that merely a ploy to escape her father?
He wished the former to be true, very keenly, but it was rather difficult to put a question to Elizabeth in front of said father. And even if Mr. Bennet were not present, Darcy was not sure if he would be able to articulate a proper query without sounding as if he doubted or insulted her.
In the end, it was Mr. Bennet who broke the silence. "Do you mean it, Mr. Darcy, when you say you intend to marry my daughter?"
Now that was an easy question to answer. "Wholeheartedly, sir."
He nodded slowly, as if digesting a particularly large piece of meat. He turned to Elizabeth.
"And you, Lizzy—you cannot truly love him, do you?"
"I do," she answered immediately, to Darcy's great relief.
She sent him a shy glance. He tried to smile at her in assurance.
"We never articulated it to each other in so many words, but there has truly been no one I admire or respect more than Mr. Darcy, no one whose company I yearn for more, whose person I could gladly share the rest of my life with. "
Mr. Bennet blinked at his daughter mutely. The moment stretched, until, suddenly, the master of Longbourn wept.
"Papa!" Elizabeth cried.
"Forgive me." He ran his sleeves over his eyes, his tears continuing unabated. Darcy found himself caught between bewilderment and uncertainty. He'd handled plenty of social situations in his life, but this was rather a first. "If I had known—if I had known—”
"No one could have known, Papa," said Elizabeth gently. "I myself did not know I would come to stay with and grow to love Mr. Darcy."
"And to think I have robbed us of all this time together."
"It is not as if we will not see each other again if I marry."
An even greater burst of tears overcame Mr. Bennet, and Darcy's heart ached for the man even in the midst of his confusion. Elizabeth flew off her chair to kneel before her father, her fingers curling around his forearms.
"If I had known, my darling Lizzy, that you had hopes for a match so much greater," he sobbed.
"Papa, now you sound like Mama," she chided.
"Oh, not just the money, but the consequence and character and—" Mr. Bennet subdued his sniffing by half. "It is only that I am dying, and I did not know if there would ever be another offer.”
"You are not dying, Papa!"
Mr. Bennet looked up, his eyes locking with his daughter's. And Darcy watched with heart-rending pain as the truth settled around all of them. Mr. Bennet was no saint, but Darcy, having undergone the trial twice, would never wish the loss of a parent on anyone, much less on the woman he loved.
"Papa," whispered Elizabeth.
"It is a tumor, found a week before Mr. Collins came," Mr. Bennet explained. A few tears still continued to trail his aging cheeks, but he was mostly speaking calmly now. "It was a moment of reckoning I found myself wholly unprepared for."
Elizabeth squeezed her father's hands. Darcy listened on respectfully.
"I told no one, not even your mother," Mr. Bennet continued.
"God knows she did not need more reason for hysterics.
But Collins's arrival allowed me to hope for a way to provide for the six of you.
And while it was your mother who was more overtly desperate for a match, I could not deny how much I needed one as well for the benefit of your future.
When I saw how ridiculous of a man he was, I'd hoped he'd settle on one of your other sisters, but then he chose you and—”
Mr. Bennet sobbed once more, and Elizabeth wrapped her arms around him—forgiving, loving, devoted. This was a woman whose loyalty a man could die for.
"And now my foolishness has robbed me of so many lost weeks with you," Mr. Bennet said with a whimper once his sobbing ebbed. "I suppose it is a punishment I deserve."
"O Papa." Father and daughter embraced once more, and Darcy found himself wiping a stray tear or two himself.
A good minute later, Mr. Bennet let go of his child to look at Darcy.
"Would you allow me more time with my Elizabeth?
I will gladly let you marry, and I can only hope that having both my oldest daughters married soon would at least lessen the burden of care the rest of the family demands.
But for me to find my Elizabeth now only to relinquish her again so soon—"
"We can stay in Hertfordshire," Darcy said, the answer as clear as day to him.
"We can marry by license, that I may provide for Elizabeth and for your family without scandal if and when the need arises. And if you wish to see each other more in the coming months, we can lease a house in Hertfordshire to remain nearby.”
"Truly?" Elizabeth rose to her feet, her own eyes brimming.
"If you wish it," said Darcy.
And suddenly, Elizabeth was in his arms instead, her tear-stained face against his neck. "You are the best man in the world."
Mr. Bennet surprised him to no end by saying, "Indeed he is. And I cannot be happier for you, my Lizzy."