Chapter 7 #2
His darling, beloved Elizabeth stepped towards him and held out a hand, which he grasped.
She said, “Our connexion has hardly been conventional or easy. At first, we completely misunderstood each other. I never would have guessed we would be standing together like this. When we parted in Kent, I did not expect we would ever see each other again. Then we met at Pemberley, and, for a time, I was filled with hope and anticipated joy. It disappeared at our parting but then reappeared when you were here last month. I truly believed that, despite everything, we might have a chance at happiness together. And yet, here we are. How many times do we have to confront these obstacles before we admit—”
He would not listen to her say the words that would surely rip his heart into pieces. “I never saw you as a pessimistic person.”
“I am not,” she said, lightly pressing his hand.
“I am angry and disappointed, and sad, tired and confused, and more as well. I do not know what to do! If I had some sense of purpose, if I could think of even one step I might take to make our situation how I want it to be, then I would. Can you think of anything?” There was a challenge in her tone, and he realised she was encouraging him—pleading with him—to do whatever necessary to find a way to convince her father and his relations.
“I am trying,” he vowed softly. He took a small step closer to her and felt a tear slide down his cheek.
“I know,” she whispered. “I pray you are successful, and I will do whatever I can. But if nothing changes, then we both might have to accept that there is nothing more we can do, not when other people are so determined to stand in our way. For our own sense of peace and for your sister’s and mine, my mother, and even my stubborn father’s.
I wish I did not find myself doubting that clinging to the dream that ours will be a story with a happy ending is doing rather more harm than not.
Sometimes, we must put the well-being of those we love above our own.
I know you would for your sister, and I would never blame you.
How would she feel to have her family torn asunder, to say nothing of your cousins and aunts and uncles?
” She kissed his hand, lightly touched his cheek, and, as she backed away, whispered, “Goodbye.”
Shaking his head, he said, “Only for now, not forever.”
Her smile appeared both resolute, as though she believed him, and wistful, giving the impression that she was afraid to. “For now.” She then turned about and strode away.
As Elizabeth walked to Longbourn, she hoped the cool morning air would help to mask the signs of her sorrow.
Her cheeks burned, and she could do nothing to prevent the tears that covered them; it was a miracle she managed not to sob.
How she had prayed Mr Darcy would tell her everything with his family had been resolved!
But he had not, and so, she had been forced to tell him of her father’s determination to refuse his consent.
As difficult as it had been, she knew it was better that she be the one to explain rather than allow the gentlemen to discuss it, certain it would make the situation worse, perhaps cause a permanent breach between them that would make it impossible for her and Mr Darcy to reunite if his family ceased their objections, as she fervently hoped they would.
As it was, she had delayed admitting what her father had said, though why she had wanted to protect him she did not know.
Perhaps it is simply because I do not want Mr Darcy to hate Papa.
She would not blame him, to be sure, and she even understood why his opinion of her family—save the Gardiners and Jane—was not particularly good.
The more animosity between her father and the man she longed to marry, the more threatened her future happiness was.
She had been desperate to take in everything about Mr Darcy—his looks, the faint odour of his cologne, the sense of his presence, the sound of his voice.
If only she could imprint it all in her memory, because she was horribly afraid she would never be that near to him again, especially not alone.
She did her best to watch him every moment they were together, but looking away had been necessary to prevent herself from behaving impetuously.
How she had wanted to throw herself into his arms and beg him not to let anything or anyone come between them, no matter what they had to do or tolerate to be together.
But she could not forget their loved ones.
She had meant what she had said about giving him the gift of his family, and as much as she wanted a life with him, a portion of her joy, of her ability to be the wife he deserved, might be lost to her grief at the consequences.
Marrying without her father’s consent or blessing would rob her of their connexion, and should Jane suffer in any way because of her actions, she would never forgive herself.
Once at Longbourn, she went to her chamber and did her best to repair the damage to her features caused by her interview with Mr Darcy before joining her family at breakfast. Fortunately, Mr Bingley would be here all day.
Jane would thus be occupied with him. It might allow Elizabeth to hide how wretchedly she felt.
In time, she would learn to mask her heartache from the world.
If it became necessary. Elizabeth had tried her best to discourage Mr Darcy as her father had demanded she do, and every word she had said to him was the truth.
Yet, she could not, would not, be quick to give up on the possibility that he would find a way out of their present dilemma.
And I shall be ready to do my part, whatever is necessary!
Likely, it would start with arguing her father into giving his blessing, and she was resolved to do just that.