Chapter 10 #2
The words sank like a stone inside her. It was all too sudden, too extraordinary.
“But this is only the third time we have ever seen each other!” she blurted.
His mouth twisted. “I am very well aware of that.”
While Mr. Darcy spoke to her so earnestly, Elizabeth stared, scarcely believing what her ears were telling her. He was certainly true to his word. He believed in being honest, and that was evident in everything he was saying.
She tried her best not to take offence, because he was, after all, performing a sacrifice, much as he had done when he jumped in the river without considering the danger.
For the second time since she met him, she did not know whether she ought to laugh or to cry.
Certainly, at this particular moment, she would like to do both.
Neither reaction was appropriate, since Mr. Darcy was engaged in rationally explaining why she was not a suitable wife for him.
To distract herself, she focused on his features.
Hair that was a rich brown, fashionably cut, elegant curls sweeping onto a broad brow.
He had intelligent eyes, dark and long eyelashes.
It was his lips that drew her attention most. They were full and surprisingly enticing.
She wondered what they would feel like if she leaned forward and kissed him.
She broke off the wayward thought. She had no intention of kissing this gentleman, not now, not ever. He was the last man on earth she would wish to marry. She would never tell him so, of course, but she was simply waiting for him to finish so she could answer him.
He finally came to the end of the monologue. She looked down at his hands and saw that his fingers were sprayed out. He had counted exactly ten reasons why they should not marry. She could almost admire the perfect symmetry, except that he was speaking about her.
He had fallen silent and was waiting for her answer.
She pressed her hands together, thinking how she could frame her rejection to someone like Mr. Darcy, who, she suspected, had no idea she was going to say no.
“Mr. Darcy, you have given me ten reasons that our marriage is not to your liking,” she said, speaking carefully. She needed to prepare him. “I also have several objections to this marriage.”
His eyes were already narrowing, as he stared at her in disbelief.
His expression provoked her defiance. Why should he think he was the only one who had objections? She would match him one for one and come up with ten good reasons of her own why she should not marry him.
“I thank you, sir,” she said, “for the offer of your hand, and for delivering it with such gravity and—as I must allow—remarkable frankness. You shall have my answer in kind.”
She spread her fingers out, as he had done, and began to count.
“The first and most obvious reason is that the marriage would be a tremendous sacrifice on your part. You are being forced to marry me because you did something good.”
He looked relieved. “Well, as to that, Miss Bennet, no doubt I will grow accustomed to it in time.”
“That is hardly reassuring, Mr. Darcy. You speak about it as if it is a prison sentence.”
“A successful marriage is a matter of luck. There is no predicting how the cards will turn.” His lips tilted upwards, just a little. “In this case, there is a chance that it will not be too difficult.”
She did not answer. She still had a long way to go. “Second, though I appreciate your condescension in overlooking the vulgarity of my connections, I find it difficult to accept a proposal that begins with the suitor listing all the reasons he should not be proposing.”
Mr. Darcy started to object, but she shook her head at him. “Please, Mr. Darcy, I hope you will listen to me without interruption, as I did with you.”
He raised his brow, but did not argue the point.
“Third, I must consider that, since I have no fortune, if I accepted your hand now, people might accuse me of throwing my niece into the lake to capture your attention.”
“That is absurd!” exclaimed Mr. Darcy, seething.
“No more absurd than you standing before me, and asking me to marry you, just because my clothes were wet.”
“You rode in my carriage.”
“I was with your sister, as well as a child.”
“You were with me. And you came into my home. I am a bachelor. You are an unmarried young lady.”
It amused her that he felt obliged to explain all this, as if she did not have the wit to understand it.
She looked at her right hand. What number were they on?
Number four. Six more to go. Could she come up with ten?
She felt it was imperative to do so. She needed her response to be symmetrical to his.
“Fourth, you have managed to insult my family, my situation in life, and my intelligence—all within the same quarter-hour. As a feat of rhetoric, I find that admirable, but I do not wish to marry someone who advocates it.”
Darcy let out a loud irritated breath.
“Fifth, it would be highly inconvenient to become mistress of Pemberley when I am not at all certain I would like to remove myself to the bleakness and wildness of moorland and heather and rocks.”
Heavens, she was already running out of ideas, with five more to go. There had not been time to prepare for this, and she was forced to rely on her wits.
He scowled at this characterization of his home, outraged by her casual dismissal of his estate when he must be very proud of it. If his London townhouse was anything to judge by, Pemberley must be a beautiful estate.
“Sixth, I must decline on the grounds that I do not think we would suit at all. As you pointed out, we are from different social spheres, which I believe to be an unsurmountable obstacle.”
Mr. Darcy looked like he wanted to say something, so she hurried with her next point.
“Seventh, from the portrayal you have given of your family and relations, I do not believe I would get on with them at all.”
She wondered if she could get away with saying they sounded self-important and narrow- minded, then decided to keep matters factual.
“Eighth, I worry that if I accept you today, you may continue to resent me, as you do now, for the rest of your life.”
“I do not resent you, Miss Bennet—”
“—Please allow me to finish,” she said. “I do not want to forget my list of points.”
He gestured with his hand for her to continue.
“Ninth, I suspect you are convinced I would jump at the chance to marry you, and I do not wish to bolster your arrogance.”
His body stiffened and she had to stop herself from laughing.
“As for my tenth and final objection,” she added, her tone light and airy, glad to have reached the end of this silly recitation. “If I must marry one day, I should like the experience to feel less like a reprimand and more like a pleasant experience.”
She gave a curtsy, shallow but decisive. “And now, all that remains for me to do is to assure you that I expect nothing more of you. You were kind enough to rescue my niece, and for that, you have earned my lifelong gratitude. I must thank you for your proposal but politely decline.”
He looked thunderstruck. He walked around the room in a state of agitation, then came and stopped abruptly in front of her.
“You do realize that the only reason I proposed to you is to save you from scandal? What if you never receive another offer? Do you wish to be shunned by society?”
Now he was taking it too far! She had done her best to answer him logically without taking offence, but there was a limit to her forbearance.
“Mr. Darcy, you do realize that saying such things is hardly likely to change my mind?”
“And you do comprehend that your reputation will be ruined if you do not marry me? I am offering a chance to salvage it. I understand that your pride is injured because I do not profess an affection I do not feel, but surely you cannot allow pride to destroy your future.”
This time, his words gave her pause. Was she turning him away out of false pride?
A moment’s reflection told her pride had nothing to do with it, or, at least, it was not the main reason.
“Mr. Darcy, it would be very strange indeed if you suddenly went to your knees and expressed an ardent or passionate love, when we have only been acquainted for how many day? Nine?” It was eight, but she did not want him to suppose she had been counting the days.
“You did not even show an interest in learning my name until yesterday. During those nine days, we saw each other twice. We are strangers.”
She paused and took a deep breath. “I am not allowing my pride to dictate my response. You have made several objections to our marriage, and even if they are unflattering, I can see that they are sensible. You have in fact argued your case only too well. You articulated so many objections that the very idea of accepting your proposal would be utter folly.”
He looked so aghast, Elizabeth had to control an impulse to giggle.
“Sir, you have been very kind, both to my cousin and to me. I would like to thank you for everything you have done. But now, perhaps you ought to leave, if we are to avoid an even worse scandal. We have been closeted alone in this room for quite some time. My aunt and uncle will be expecting us to be engaged.”
She put her hand out to him. “Good day, Mr. Darcy. I wish you all the best.”
He stared at her hand as if it was deceased, held it briefly, then let go and rubbed his hand against his coat.
“I will leave you,” he said, in a distant tone, “but I must ask you to think more carefully about this matter. You have been taken by surprise, and need time to adjust to the idea. I will give you until the end of the day to reach a decision. Have your uncle send word if you change your mind. I know the last eight days have been worrying for you, and I should not have approached you so soon. I would not have done so, if the situation were not so urgent.”
Elizabeth gave him a sunny smile, amused that he knew exactly how many days it had been since they met.
“You would not have approached me at all, if it were not so urgent, Mr. Darcy.”
His mouth twisted with a hint of humor. “True, Miss Bennet. But that does not change anything. The scandal will not go away, just because we wish it. Until tonight, then.”
“You will not hear from me tonight,” she replied. “I have no intention of changing my mind.”
Mr. Darcy’s brow quirked, but he did not answer. He turned on his heel and walked out of the door.
Elizabeth stared after him as he left, trying to memorize every aspect of his appearance. Would this be the last time she set eyes on him? Why did the idea fill her with so much anguish?
She sank down into the sofa behind her. What had she done? How could she have refused to marry Mr. Darcy?
She was certain it was the right decision, but she had never felt so miserable in her life.