Chapter 1.20 #2
“I am a little frightened, William; I cannot conceal that. Everything has happened so fast. Only a week ago I came to London without knowing whether I would ever see you again—then Lydia’s elopement…and our engagement… Sometimes I think I am only dreaming.”
He kissed her temple tenderly. “I know, my love. I want nothing more than to marry you because I do not dare to think of being separated from you again. But more than anything, I want you to be happy…and pleased…and content…” He continued in a different tone, less serious but more insinuating as a smile twisted the corner of his mouth.
“And I am sure the engagement period will have its own charms. So tell me, please: When would you be prepared to plan our wedding?”
She turned to him and held his gaze for a few moments, and in his looks was everything she needed to decide. If there was one thing in the world she could be certain of beyond any doubt, it was his love. She had nothing to fear as long as he was close to her.
“A month will be too soon, I am sure. However…I think that six weeks will do. And hopefully by that time, Georgiana will be fully recovered. But I warn you, I shall have to tell my mother that you insisted on being married so soon.”
“Six weeks seems perfect indeed. And you may tell your mother anything you want. I am convinced she will be on my side. Did Becky not mention that Mrs Bennet is very fond of me?”
He took her hands, brushing his lips over her palms and her wrists, then pulled her to him in a close embrace, which lasted no longer than a moment before Elizabeth withdrew quite firmly.
“William, I must go. Now!” He met her gaze, seeing her determined and somewhat reproachful—but smiling—expression, and nodded obediently.
“You are right, of course. It is already quite late. I shall accompany you to Gracechurch Street.”
“No, you will not, sir. You will remain home and prepare for tonight because I am afraid you do not fully understand what a trying evening you will have. And there is no need for Molly to come either.”
He tried to protest, but she would not allow him to sway her. “Sir, I trust that by now I can manage to keep myself safe for a short drive in London in the most comfortable Darcy carriage. Would you not agree?”
Her mood was high, and her lips—still a little more swollen and red than usual—twisted in a challenging smile while her eyes laughed in delight at his discomfort at not being allowed to do as he wanted.
“As you wish, madam; I do not dare to contradict such a decided command.”
She walked to the door, her hand still in his, and turned her head to look at him. “A very wise decision, Mr Darcy. I hope you will remember that in the future. As I said, I cannot promise to obey you unconditionally, but I do warn you in advance, I shall make my wishes decidedly known.”
They left the library and were in the main hall as Miles opened the door for them.
Mr Darcy helped her to enter the carriage, and she arranged her reticule and the jewel box in her lap, ready to leave.
But before he closed the door, he leaned close to her, whispering so near to her ear that she could feel his lips.
“I shall be more than happy to know your every wish and to comply with each one of them. However, I must also warn you that things will be different by then. You must consider that I shall not have to be mindful of the propriety of being alone in a room with you or worry about your family waiting for you…or about your swollen lips…”
His gaze was dark and so intense that she could feel it penetrating her soul as shivers spread over and within her. His words made her melt, and her hands trembled slightly as he politely bestowed a kiss on her now-gloved hand, bowing in the most gentlemanlike manner.
He closed the door, and she turned her head to hold his gaze a little longer, sad to be away from him but somehow relieved for now to put a little distance between them.
∞∞∞
Lady Matlock was preparing herself for dinner, her maid arranging her hair as for an important social event.
When she had returned home from her visit to Darcy House, she had found in her bedroom a gift from her husband—a flower.
One unique red rose, so beautiful that even she—well-accustomed to immense bouquets of flowers—was impressed.
Near the flower was a little note asking for the privilege of speaking to her.
She smiled then, and she was still smiling now, pleased at the effect she still had on her husband after thirty-five years of marriage. Her heart melted, and she felt herself blushing a little at her own reaction to him after so many years.
Elizabeth’s words when speaking of her feelings for Darcy and the passion in her eyes were the ultimate argument in her favour. Lady Matlock could understand her only too well, for she often felt the same for her own husband.
They had quarrelled quite often—and not without passion—during their life together, but even more passionate were their mutual feelings and their reconciliations.
Though her husband had offended her, she could understand it was his temper that had betrayed him.
And she knew that she could ask anything of him in exchange for her forgiveness.
She decided to speak to him before dinner, and a tentative knock on the door announced to her that he had come.
“Ellen…I do not know what I could say to be worthy of your forgiveness. My behaviour towards you was outrageous. I am ashamed to remember how I offended you.”
“Yes it was. And you indeed offended me—in front of our son no less and in the full hearing of the servants. What will they think of me now—or of you?”
“You must know I had not intended to do so. But…” He paused, searching carefully for the proper words.
“I was at a loss to see how you could give your consent so easily to that ridiculous marriage. You must know as well as I do that this marriage will ruin Darcy’s reputation and he will end up being very unhappy. ”
She gave him a sound look, and she could see that her husband was indeed sincere; he honestly believed that what he had predicted would come to pass. He was completely honest in voicing his opinion as he strongly believed it was for Darcy’s benefit.
“Please take a seat, husband. Let us talk about this rationally, shall we?”
“Yes, thank you.”
She looked at him for a few long moments.
“Let me explain my meaning, and please try to understand me. When Darcy announced his engagement to us last night, I was as surprised and strongly opposed as you were, and I was equally decided not to allow this marriage to take place. The only difference was that I chose to express myself in a different manner. I, of course, had the advantage of speaking to our son while you employed your time offending Darcy about his choice of wife.”
Her voice was as full of irony as it was censure. He said nothing, for nothing could be said.
“After speaking with Robert, I easily understood that Darcy had made his decision and already taken any arguments I might add into consideration. It was not a sudden decision undertaken in the heat of passion but rather a rational one—and not to be changed. Darcy did not come here to ask for our consent. He does not need our consent. He came out of respect and affection to announce his engagement to us, his close family, as soon as he could. I dare say he wanted our blessing, but he does not need that either. Moreover, husband, Darcy anticipated our reaction, and he understood it plainly. He told me as much.”
“Ellen, if it was indeed a rational decision, that is even worse! That means he has lost his mind: he has forgotten everything he was taught and everything his parents wanted for him.”
“Indeed? And pray tell me, how do you know that? When did you specifically talk with your sister or your brother about what they wanted for their son?”
“I did not need to discuss it with them. I simply knew. They could not want anything less than what I want for our sons.”
“In this we agree, husband. But do you know Miss Elizabeth well enough to say that she is not what you would want for our sons—or for Darcy?”
“Ellen, I refuse to answer that question. I do not need to know her. She is completely unfit and beneath us, and everybody will see that. She will never be accepted in society, and I myself will never be able to accept her.”
“I see. So you are determined to reject her without even meeting her.”
“I am. What I know about her is more than enough. And I shall not give my consent to something that goes against everything I believe.”
“I am satisfied that I understand your feelings now. But pray tell me, have you given due consideration to all the consequences of your attitude?”
“I fail to understand your meaning.”
“You fail indeed, husband, for you have allowed your temper to overcome your sense again. Let me enlighten you. Darcy will not be moved in his decision, so your rejection will estrange him from us, and not only him but most likely Georgiana as well. Moreover, as we shall frequent the same circles, you will undoubtedly meet Darcy and his wife at some point, and your attitude towards her will became publicly acknowledged. The hostility between our families will make us the subject of all the talk and gossip of the town for a long time and will damage the names of Fitzwilliam and Darcy much more than Miss Elizabeth could ever do. Are you prepared to allow that to happen? Do you think that this is what Lady Anne would want for her son? Because I certainly do not. I shall do everything in my power to prevent anything of that kind, for my name and my reputation are also involved as well as the future of my nephew and my niece.”
Lord Matlock remained silent, deep in thought, looking from time to time at his wife.
“But Ellen, are you saying that we do not have any choice but to accept this marriage? And to accept that Miss Elizabeth, despite her situation in life and no matter how low her character might be?”