Chapter Thirteen
“George, go—”
“I wanna stay. You are going to tell him yes. I know you will. You said you would.”
This rather reduced the strong feeling of suspense that Darcy had, but Elizabeth’s solemn expression left some in place.
“Really,” Elizabeth said, “it does not do to say such things—one must keep any gentleman admirer in suspense for as long as you might. But I suppose that will never be an issue for you. Now, go—and no, Mr. Darcy, as much as you delight in keeping little George around, this is not a case where I wish for him to be here.”
“Are you also banishing me?” Colonel Fitzwilliam said rising with a smile. “Alas, if only I had made a march on Darcy, I could enjoy the affection of such loveliness myself.”
Elizabeth smiled at his cousin, but in a sort of dismissive way. “Are you not holding out for at least fifty thousand pounds?”
“By no means; as the second son of an earl, I can never expect more than forty. Not unless my brother were particularly unhealthy. Unfortunately, he both has his own heir and is a picture of good health—also, unfortunately he does not always show good sense. I am warning you, to not expect a sensible fellow when you two meet.”
“So, you assume we shall?” Elizabeth said.
Colonel Fitzwilliam smiled. “You did inform your son about your intentions.”
“I believed he was asleep.”
For his part Darcy was happy that his cousin was providing none of the opposition that he had feared from that quarter.
“Yes, you’d best go as well,” Elizabeth said. She frowned and then sat down in the chair next to Darcy. Her expression was stiff. Her fingers pressed together and twisted in her lap. She held herself away from the chair so that her back did not touch the velvet.
Darcy did not like to see her anxious or unhappy in any way. He wished he could take her hand and smooth it out. She had several times let him take her hand when they talked at night, but at present…it seemed impossible.
The room was emptied.
Elizabeth still did not look at him.
They waited. The air was rather cool due to the open windows letting in the sea breeze. The curtains flapped with gusts of wind.
She held up her hand and looked at it. “I do not know why I am trembling. I have decided what I shall do. I merely hate…”
Darcy took her hand and held it. He ignored the spasm of pain as he leaned forward and shifted the damaged ribs and still healing wound about.
She squeezed his hand tightly.
She still did not look at him.
“I have certain conditions,” Elizabeth said slowly. “Things you must promise me before I can agree.”
A wave of relief went through Darcy. “Anything.”
She now looked at him. That mischievous quirk of her eyes that he loved so much.
“Well, since I now know that you’ll give me anything I ask at this time, I must come up with a really excessive request.”
“I am at your mercy.”
She frowned instead of smiling. “But are you? In marriage it is the woman whose life can be constrained—the law does nothing to control a man with no sense of honor—Why? Why really do you wish to marry me?”
“I have told you.” Darcy did not understand what she meant to ask for. Did she hope for an expression of affection? A proclamation of deepest love?
But Darcy did not feel what he thought love to be, he only knew that he absolutely could not allow Elizabeth to leave, to struggle, and to not be in his life.
She took in a deep breath and let it out. “That is what…I wished to hear. Yes. Good. Yes. Uhhhhh…now let me remember. Oh, yes.” She breathed shallowly several times without speaking again.
“Elizabeth, breathe deeply, and find something to laugh about. Oh, and then go do something useful.”
She laughed and grinned at him. “That is what I would say to myself is it not? My first condition—though I suppose this is not a condition. This is what your character will demand of you, so long as you are aware of the matter: I expect my position and honor amongst your family to be defended by you. I have neither the manners, the education, nor the background that they shall expect. They will consider me a fortune hunter. I think that had Colonel Fitzwilliam not witnessed himself my reaction to your proposal, he would still be convinced that I am a fortune hunter, despite the three weeks acquaintance we have had. I think that is what he feared I was when we first met. Maybe I am a fortune hunter.”
“You certainly are not.”
“You are in a state of emotional turmoil. A gentleman who cannot be said to be in his right mind. And now I am accepting you because I hope it will benefit my children. Does that not make me a fortune hunter?”
Darcy felt an odd prick of disappointment at her saying that.
At her not making some dramatic declaration of love and affection herself.
But there was also the way that she looked at him.
Anxious eyes. She was such a strong woman, yet so vulnerable, so easily frightened, and in a position where she needed him to be able to live the life that she deserved to have.
His stomach felt light and hollow, and he could not swallow. Something was caught in his throat.
“You are what you ought to be,” Darcy said. “Precisely that.”
“You are nothing like Wickham was. If you resembled him in the slightest, if I did not have a complete trust in your character and goodness, I could never bring myself to enter the married state once more, no matter what advantages might accrue from it. And you speak of duty, and of practical matters, and of…of how you wish to act. Not of the grand romance, the great gesture, the overpowering feeling of a Byronic stupidity. Not about that damned thing, love.”
“No. But also friendship. I hope you think us dear friends.”
“Yes—though of course one must account for us having only been friends for a month, and under such odd circumstances.” She smiled at him, with a sort of appealing look that begged him to agree. “We shall yet come to know each other far better. To be tested and old friends also.”
“Yes.”
She took another deep breath.
Darcy realized: She hated talk of love and romance because she distrusted any such feelings in herself.
Poor, poor Elizabeth.
He would show her…he was not sure what. But he would show it to her. He would make her feel it. And in time she would enjoy every happiness that she deserved.
Their eyes held for a long time.
“You have conditions,” he prompted her again.
“Oh, yes.” She seemed startled. “Yes…I was asking for you to see to it that your family respects me when I am in their presence. I do not wish to cause difficulties. I do not care what they say when I am not present—I only wish for my position to be respected and honored. And if…if I think I have been insulted—I am to be the judge upon this point, not you—I ask you to support me in avoiding the company of someone who I have on several separate occasions found unpleasant Even if they are your dear relation.”
“Of course I will do what you ask. That is not a condition.”
“And promise to not speak unkindly of me even when I am not there. My father often spoke slightingly of my mother. I do not say that she did not deserve it—you have even heard me speak slightingly of her. But…I do not wish such a marriage.”
“I promise to always respect you in my words, whether you are present or not.”
“I don’t mean that when you have some matter of unhappiness—I am sure that such will arise one day.
Let us not be one of those silly couples who marry without being able to imagine ever being at odds with their partner—I have done that once and I will not again.
But when you are unhappy with me, I do not mean that you cannot speak honestly about what upset you with a dear friend if you need counsel. Just…”
“To speak of you with charity, and not slightingly.”
She nodded. Then with more confidence, Elizabeth said, “When we have our own children, I expect that they will receive a greater part of your support and affection, but—”
“No,” Darcy said firmly. “In every matter but the inheritance of Pemberley itself, which shall remain with Darcy blood, I shall treat George and Emily the same as children of my own blood and loins.”
Elizabeth opened and closed her mouth several times.
She took in a deep breath and smiled. “That satisfies me upon that matter. You know that I think that inheritances should generally be tied in a way that it is difficult for anything but the income to be wasted, but I trust you in that matter.”
“And now speak on,” Darcy said smiling. “I have no fear of your conditions after the first two.”
She blushed. She laughed nervously. “Ah, well. But do not say that before you have heard what the condition is. So then, finally…” She blushed again. The red went to her neck.
“You wish to delay our conjugal joining until such time as your mourning period is finished?” Darcy suggested.
Obviously, she could not be ready so quickly to engage in that behavior.
It would take time for her to become used to the idea of doing it again, so soon after her husband had died.
At least Darcy assumed that was the case.
“What!?” Elizabeth squealed. He’d never heard anything like that tone from her.
“No! No. No. No. Mr. Wickham ceased to act in that office long ago. And I have no…” she flushed and looked him in the eye in a way that made Darcy’s stomach twist and turn.
“I assure you that when I hesitated, it was not due to any disgust for your person.”
Now it was Darcy’s turn to blush. He could not hold her gaze at this point. He felt an intense piercing desire for her, and a wish that he was healthy enough to express that desire without pain and concern for the only half healed ribs and gunshot wound.
“What then do you wish to ask?”