Chapter 24 #2
The day had been a frustrating one, because he had intended to arrive at Rosings early enough to call at the parsonage.
However, an hour into his journey, a lynchpin had broken, sending a wheel careening one way and his carriage skidding the other way.
Had Phoenix been with him, he could have ridden on alone, but his horse was back in London being treated for a sore hock, which meant that Darcy had been forced to hang about at an inn and wait for the carriage to be fixed.
When the pin had been repaired, he and Richard Fitzwilliam had continued their journey and had scarcely arrived in time to change their clothes and join Lady Catherine and Anne in the drawing room.
He had been incredibly grateful for Richard during dinner; meals with Lady Catherine were inevitably more or less trying, and a meal following hard on the heels of a difficult trip, when Darcy wanted nothing more than to call on Elizabeth Bennet, would have been nearly unendurable.
Thankfully Richard, his habitual cheer unimpaired, had valiantly drawn their aunt’s attention and conversation over dinner, allowing Darcy to retreat into brooding silence.
He spent the meal largely in silence. He had scarcely noticed what he was putting in his mouth, his mind consumed with thoughts of Elizabeth Bennet.
There was no point in denying his own heart any longer; it was lost to fine brown eyes and an arch smile.
He loved Miss Elizabeth and further obfuscation seemed merely pathetic, the feeble flailings of a man in denial.
His attempts to crush his infatuation, the distance he had enforced in the belief that his attraction would fade away like mist before the sun, had all been as unavailing as trying to catch a sunbeam.
Absence had not made his heart forgetful, as he had believed it would, but only fonder.
What option was left to him, then? He wished to marry her. It was a startling thought; the disadvantages of such a marriage had not changed, but Darcy found that he no longer cared. He must marry her.
He must…
The door opened, and he turned a surprised look toward it, which shifted to astonishment. His cousin Anne stood in the door frame holding a candle, still dressed in the gown she had worn at dinner, though she had a heavy shawl over her thin shoulders.
“Anne!” he exclaimed, rising to his feet. “What are you doing up so late?”
Anne walked over to the fireplace, sat down on the wingbacked chair, and said, “I wish to speak to you privately, Cousin, and I decided to wait until Lady Catherine was asleep before doing so.”
These were disquieting words, but he left his own chair near the window, slowly moved to the fire, and looked down at her. “What do you wish to talk about?”
“Sit down, Darcy, please.”
He did so and waited.
Anne’s face was pale and grave in the flickering light of the fire, and it was some time before she finally said, “Darcy, I do not wish to marry you.”
He found himself goggling at her. “You do not want to marry me?”
She lifted her chin to stare into his eyes.
“Yes,” she said more firmly. “I do not want to marry you. I know my mother and yours planned our union in order to join our respective estates, but I do not wish to. However, I do have to live with Lady Catherine, and she will never forgive me if I refuse your offer. Therefore, I request that you never offer for me, Cousin. Never.”
Bemusement had, by now, given way to satisfaction.
He smiled at her and said, “Thank you for telling me that, Anne. Truthfully, I do not want to marry you either. Actually, I have determined recently that I will not marry you, but I was worried that you would be disappointed and upset. Your request is a great relief.”
She smiled in return, her shoulders relaxing. “That is such a weight off of my shoulders. I must thank Miss Bennet for her advice to speak to you on this subject, even if ladies are generally not supposed to discuss potential marriage offers so boldly.”
Darcy narrowed his eyes. “Miss Bennet? Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”
Anne frowned and said, “Yes, Miss Bennet. Her sister is wife to Mr. Collins, who is the parson here at Hunsford. I believe you met her …”
“I remember her,” Darcy interrupted. “Indeed…”
“I understand that you have had some difficult interactions,” Anne continued, “but I find her a wonderful person and consider her a genuine friend.”
Darcy stared at his cousin, bewildered. “Difficult interactions? I am not certain of what you are speaking.”
“Oh, there was an unfortunate interaction at an assembly, in Meryton I believe? Miss Bennet told me that you said loudly that she was not handsome enough to dance with, but later you…”
“She heard that?” Darcy squeaked. He had not previously believed that his voice could achieve that particular timbre, but when he was sufficiently horrified and astonished, it was obviously possible.
“Yes?” Anne said, staring at him intently. “Darcy, whatever has gotten into you?”
“Erm, I just,” Darcy stammered. “I did not realize she heard my idiotic words, and I am appalled at my dreadful behavior. I hope she is not too upset with me.”
Anne continued to gaze at him for an uncomfortable moment, and then said, “She thinks quite well of you now. Apparently you were particularly noble when you saved your friend’s dog?”
“Oh, Maxwell, yes, well…” Darcy trailed off, his relief so profound that his tone shifted to something akin to jovial.
“The poor beast had fallen into a raging stream, and I went in after him, and then I was rather stuck, but Miss Bennet came along and helped me get the spaniel out, and then I got out, and…”
He trailed off again as Anne began chuckling aloud. He was more amazed than insulted, because Anne rarely smiled and never laughed.
“I am grateful she thinks a little better of me,” he said humbly.
“I am too,” Anne said, rising to her feet. “And I am very glad for this conversation. I will sleep well tonight.”
He reached out to take her hands in his. “I am glad too, Anne. We will both be much happier in life as friends, not spouses.”
“Most definitely!”