Chapter Sixty-Three
Longbourn
Mr. Darcy was fortunate to be allowed a few minutes alone with Elizabeth. He explained his plan to go to London after their wedding, and showed her the letter from his aunt by way of explanation.
Elizabeth’s expressive face underwent several changes as she read the letter, but it soon became clear that she was not at all happy. She set the letter down in her lap, slowly, and stared down at it.
“Elizabeth?” Mr. Darcy was made suddenly uneasy by her silence.
“This is why you wanted to marry me,” she whispered.
“No, no. I had this same conversation with Georgiana just yesterday.” He explained again that he had never found any young lady in the ton who had elicited even the slightest bit of excitement in his heart, and had rather resigned himself to marrying someone for whom he did not much care.
She listened in silence, looking at the floor.
He repeated, “Elizabeth?” His voice was rising higher in concern. “Elizabeth, surely you believe me!” He went to her chair and knelt before her. “I have only ever wanted you, dearest Elizabeth.” He took her cold hands in his.
“But you did not ask me to marry you until you got this letter,” she said, raising her eyes to meet his.
“And now I wish very much that I had asked you earlier, if only to allay your concern over this. In truth, I thought we had more time to court, that is all. But if we are to be part of the Season, then I felt I should move events along more quickly. That is all, Elizabeth, I swear to you.” He felt panic rising in his chest. Had he come so far to win the woman he loved, only to lose her now?
“I have never been part of Society, Mr. Darcy. I have never been to a ball. I have not the clothing for it, and likely not the manners, as well.” Her voice was small, as if coming from far away.
“Your manners are perfect. And you will have the gowns for it, I promise you. My aunt will take you under her wing, for no one denies the Countess of Matlock anything.”
“Except entrance to Almack’s, apparently,” Elizabeth murmured, still staring at the floor.
“Well, yes. But that does not matter. Elizabeth, what is important here is that you believe me when I tell you that I love you, most desperately, and want to marry you more than anything. You must believe me, I beg you!”
When she did not respond, he added, quietly, “If you prefer not to got to London and instead go directly to Pemberley, then that is what we shall do.”
She raised her eyes to his at last. “But then Georgiana will not have her chance to recover her reputation, according to your aunt.”
Mr. Darcy said, quickly, “Then we will go the following year. What matters most is that we are together. It will not hurt Georgiana to wait another year.” This was not true, but Mr. Darcy could not consider that now.
Was he really being forced to choose between Georgiana and Elizabeth?
Surely, surely, the universe was not as cruel as that.
Elizabeth saw desperation in Mr. Darcy’s face. She could not doubt that he loved her! And the idea of living without him was now completely unsupportable.
She reached out and gently caressed his cheek.
“Mr. Darcy, I am sorry I doubted you. I will marry you, and I will go with you to London. We must do our best to help our sister.” She laughed softly, adding, “If the goal is to give the ton something to talk about other than Georgiana, I am certain that the many mistakes I will make in Society will succeed admirably.”
Mr. Darcy’s relief was overwhelming. It was only the knowledge that Mrs. Bennet was likely just outside the door that prevented him from taking her into his arms. The fourteenth of January could not come soon enough!
But – “Elizabeth, will you not call me Fitzwilliam? Or William, as Georgiana does?”
“William is a little easier,” she ventured.
“And prevents me from being confused with Colonel Fitzwilliam,” he added.
“There is that,” she said, smiling.