Chapter Eight #2
The viscount folded his arms and glared at Elizabeth and Darcy while speaking to Mrs. Bennet. “Darcy claimed to be betrothed to your daughter. I did not know if I should credit the claim, but perhaps there is an…attachment.” He curled his lip.
Darcy’s chest tightened, but the viscount’s revelation ultimately made little difference. He knew there was only one honorable course of action. Truthfully, he had known it as soon as the door burst open. Only a miracle could have saved him.
“Is this true?” Mrs. Bennet addressed Darcy in a strident voice. “Are you engaged to my daughter?”
Darcy did not glance in Elizabeth’s direction, but he could feel the weight of her gaze. He drew himself to his full height and regarded Mrs. Bennet with his haughtiest stare. “I am, madam. We are betrothed.”
***
Elizabeth sank onto the settee, clasping her trembling hands. This was a catastrophe.
After Mr. Darcy’s declaration, he had stammered an apology to Elizabeth’s mother and attempted to explain why they had concealed their betrothal.
But Mrs. Bennet did not care. She was the happiest person in the room.
(Although the servants were having quite a merry time as well.) Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth could have been concealing a dead body, and it would not have mattered to her mother.
The viscount had scowled at Mr. Darcy, no doubt believing the other man was thwarting his designs to coerce Elizabeth into his bed. Well, he can believe whatever he likes as long as he does not surmise we stole the voucher.
Uttering curses under his breath, the viscount stormed out of the room. Following a glare from Mr. Darcy, his servants trailed after him.
Elizabeth’s mother shrugged. “A title would have been preferable, but perhaps the viscount will take a liking to Mary.” The image of the viscount attempting to seduce Mary while she read Fordyce’s sermons greatly amused Elizabeth.
“Ten thousand a year!” her mother continued. “That is better than a title!”
She beamed at Mr. Darcy as if she had given him a great compliment. He appeared bemused, no doubt wondering how someone so tactless could possibly exist. The floor never opens up and swallows me when I wish.
Fortunately, her mother did not wait for an accounting of how they had met or when they might marry. Mrs. Bennet quickly took her leave before hastening back to the ballroom to spread the “most excellent news.” That was destined to sink Mr. Darcy’s opinion of the family even lower.
Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy were alone in the study once more; an uncomfortable silence reigned. Mr. Darcy stood like a statue, staring at the doorway. His mask of icy dignity had returned.
Elizabeth had managed to realize Mr. Darcy’s worst nightmare: engagement to a woman of no consequence.
What could she possibly say to him? How could she possibly make it up to him?
“I beg your forgiveness. I have been incautious, and I should never have involved you in my scheme,” she said in a small voice.
He shook his head vigorously as he turned toward her. “The fault is mine. I volunteered to help you. And I first favored the idea of a false engagement.” However, the scowl on his face did not suggest he held her blameless.
“If only someone else had discovered us….”
Mr. Darcy’s expression suggested that all his hopes had died. “It matters not. We were caught in a compromising position. An engagement is the only honorable resolution.”
“I had no reason to expect that my mother would hunt me down so that the viscount could propose.”
Mr. Darcy shuddered. “We can hope he will now be convinced that his offers are unwelcome.”
“Yes.” It was a meager triumph. A public betrothal to Mr. Darcy would likely prevent the viscount from harassing her further. However, Elizabeth was now attached to a man who was not only proud and difficult but also deeply unhappy with her.
Elizabeth tipped her head back against the settee. A headache knotted the back of her neck. “My mother will tell everyone.”
“How many people can she possibly tell?” Mr. Darcy asked.
She laughed without mirth. “By morning, the Prince Regent will undoubtedly know.”
Mr. Darcy sat in the chair opposite hers. “Perhaps we could stop—”
Elizabeth shook her head. It would be easier to restrain a runaway horse.
“I should have had more care for your reputation.” He stared down at his hands. “I will endeavor to be a good husband to you. At least your family will be pleased. Your future is assured.”
A shock pulsed through Elizabeth. Did he believe that only wealth concerned her family—or Elizabeth herself? “Mr. Darcy! I have no intention of following through on the betrothal.”
He gaped. “But why? Marriage to me offers every advantage. Given your family’s situation—”
Good heavens, he was doing it again! The man’s pride would not be suppressed. “Mr. Darcy, I believe you have me confused with a fortune hunter.”
He had the grace to appear embarrassed. “But everyone must take finances into consideration when marrying.”
“And you believe your fortune is such an inducement to me that I will ignore all other considerations?”
His face was quite pale. “You cannot find me too objectionable.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. God save the women of Britain from overconfident, wealthy men! “I find you to be an excellent false fiancée and an adept partner for criminal enterprise. I would happily write you a character to that effect.”
Despite his pique, Mr. Darcy chuckled.
“But it does not necessarily follow that you possess all the qualities I long for in a husband. Your cook’s lemon biscuit might be the epitome of lemon biscuits, but if I do not care for lemon biscuits, it does not matter how good they are.”
He blinked slowly. “I do not believe I have ever been compared to a lemon biscuit before.”
“I am not comparing you. It is an analogy.”
“In that case, I feel far less insulted,” he said dryly.
Elizabeth burst into laughter.
“I must say, I appreciate your ability to find humor in any situation.”
“The capacity for laughter keeps me sane in my family.”
He regarded her with something akin to sadness. “Miss Elizabeth. Your reputation has been compromised. Marriage is the only remedy.”
This is ridiculous. He does not want to marry me. I should not be forced to convince him otherwise. “We have agreed that we will not suit. Your family will object.”
His countenance was an unreadable mask. “They will object, but they cannot stop me.”
Elizabeth stared at him. He was prepared to marry a woman he did not love simply because he made the declaration in front of a few witnesses. Did honor and duty rule every aspect of his life? Was love never a consideration?
Elizabeth took a deep breath. “I assure you, I will not hold you to your promise. We need not wed. I propose that we allow the engagement to proceed for a few months, and then I will break it off. No dishonor will fall upon you.” She expected him to look more relieved.
“But if you reject me, your reputation will suffer—”
Some damage to my reputation must be better than a lifetime of being married to the wrong person.
She shrugged. “Then it will be easier to avoid marriage.” Yes, it will suit me just fine.
He blew out a breath. “If you insist on this course of action, I cannot prevent it. I will do my best to be an attentive fiancé. However, people will believe I have compromised you.”
Elizabeth grimaced. Naturally, he did not want to be viewed as a man who would commit such acts. But such gossip could hurt Jane’s reputation. “We must convince people that our meeting at the Pritchards’ ball was a matter of love at first sight.”
Mr. Darcy’s eyebrows rose. “I am not certain I believe in love at first sight.”
“Neither do I. But it will serve our purpose. We cannot tell my parents that we met two years ago and began a correspondence. They know I received no letters from you at Longbourn.” Our deception grows more complicated by the minute.
Mr. Darcy nodded slowly. “If my aunt notices the discrepancies, I will simply tell her that your parents do not know the whole story.” He was silent for a minute. “How long do you expect this charade to last?”
“To the end of the Season, as we said before. We still need to discourage the viscount and your aunt.”
“Very well. The end of the Season.” He sounded disinterested, but his countenance showed a hint of relief. “At least destroying the voucher will eliminate the viscount’s threat to your family. You did obtain it?”
“I did.” Elizabeth patted her pocket. “I congratulate myself that my first effort at theft was a success. Although my escape plan could use improvement.”
Mr. Darcy chuckled.
Elizabeth continued more soberly. “I do not know what the viscount will do when he discovers it is missing.”
“He will guess that we have stolen it,” Mr. Darcy said.
“Yes.” Elizabeth twisted a piece of hair that had escaped from her coiffure. “My father is safe from the debt, but the viscount may attempt to avenge himself….”
“Upon you,” Mr. Darcy said. “Then our engagement is essential for your safety. Harwood will be far more hesitant to move against my future wife than he would against a simple Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
Elizabeth bit her lip. “I am afraid you have the right of it. I must thank you for protecting me.”
“It is nothing. After all, you are also protecting me from my aunt, and she is far more fearsome.”
Elizabeth smirked.
Mr. Darcy gave her a pointed look. “You are skeptical, but I have seen her cut a marquess down to size with nothing but well-chosen insults.”
“A talent indeed,” Elizabeth murmured. She stood. “We should return to the ballroom.” The more time they spent alone, the more gossip it would fuel. But she dreaded what awaited them. By now, her mother had probably informed everyone in the building, not excepting the upstairs maids.
His expression was unreadable. Did he secretly hate her for putting him into this situation? Perhaps she could lighten the mood. “I sincerely hope that I have not led you astray into a life of crime.”