Chapter 15
Darcy
Wickham had always known how to choose the weapon that cut deepest.
He could not attack my fortune, my birth, or my reputation among those who knew me. So he chose Elizabeth. He twisted the very act meant to restore her freedom into proof that I had bought her.
Bingley paced Netherfield’s library with unusual agitation.
“I can speak to Colonel Forster. Wickham must take back what he said.”
“A forced retraction won’t stop the rumor.”
“Then I’ll demand a public apology.”
“And then everyone will learn the exact details of Mr. Bennet’s debt.”
Bingley swore.
I had never heard him swear before his engagement. Hertfordshire was developing new qualities in him.
“What will you do?”
I looked at Elizabeth’s note lying before me. A single word: Come.
“Restore her freedom a second time.”
“She already has it.”
“Not in the neighborhood’s eyes. As long as our engagement remains possible, every visit, every kindness, every decision she makes will be attributed to the debt. If I announce that I’m withdrawing my proposal, she can choose without being accused of selling herself.”
Bingley stared at me.
“And if she wanted to marry you?”
“She can tell me after the scandal has died down.”
“Do you truly believe it will? The people of Meryton are still talking about the color of a bonnet someone wore to the last ball.”
“Then I will leave.”
“Darcy…”
“I will not allow her name to be linked to mine as the price of an obligation.”
The decision tore at me, yet seemed inevitable.
I had already imagined her refusal. I had prepared myself to leave Hertfordshire certain I had helped her without reward.
What I had not foreseen was the softness of her hand in mine, her laughter in the pavilion, her mouth returning to mine after my first kiss.
She had desired me.
That memory had nourished a hope I could no longer dismiss as illusion. But desire was not consent to marriage. She had told me so.
The next morning, I went to Longbourn before the usual hour for calls. Mr. Bennet received me in the library.
“The rumor has preceded you,” he said.
“I know.”
“Wickham is a skilled liar.”
“He uses a real fact to support a lie. It’s more effective.”
Mr. Bennet removed his spectacles.
“You intend to leave.”
“Yes.”
“Does my daughter know?”
“I’m going to tell her.”
He observed me for a long moment.
“You are sometimes as foolish as any other man, Mr. Darcy.”
I stiffened.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You intend to decide alone that your departure protects Elizabeth, then present this decision to her as a sacrifice. It seems to me we’ve already established that you excel far too much at this sort of benevolence.”
The truth of the reproach irritated me.
“If I ask her opinion, she might feel obliged to reassure me.”
“And if you don’t ask her, she might feel abandoned.”
I looked away, toward the bookshelves.
“I no longer know how to act without influencing her.”
The voice that emerged sounded strange, even to me.
Mr. Bennet softened.
“Perhaps that is your first reasonable decision: admitting that you don’t know. Speak to her.”
Elizabeth was waiting for me in the small parlor. She wore a pale blue dress. Her face was grave, but she rose eagerly when I entered.
“You saw my father.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“He thinks I’m foolish.”
An involuntary smile touched her lips.
“His opinion of you is improving. He usually reserves that judgment for people he likes.”
I could not smile.
She saw it.
“What do you intend to do?”
“To announce that our engagement is off and leave Netherfield today.”
The blood drained from her face.
“You're leaving?”
“I don't want your reputation to suffer any further.”
“You think you're protecting it by letting everyone believe you discovered the Bennets' unworthiness too late?”
“No. I'll make it known that the decision is mine, for personal reasons.”
“Which will fuel three times as much speculation.”
“I see no other way.”
“You haven't looked for one with me.”
Anger lit her eyes.
“I was trying not to pressure you.”
“You're still trying to decide alone what's best for the people you love.”
The words struck exactly where her reproach at Hunsford had left a wound.
I closed my eyes.
“You're right.”
Her expression wavered.
“Don't give in so quickly. I had several arguments prepared.”
“I'll hear them all.”
She took a few steps, gathering her thoughts.
“I don't want you to leave.”
My heart clenched.
“Why?”
“Because your departure won't make the rumor disappear. Because Jane is getting married soon and she wants you there. Because Georgiana is at Netherfield and I wish to know her better.”
She stopped.
“And because I wish to see you.”
I gripped the back of a chair.
“Elizabeth, don't say that out of pity.”
“That's precisely why you irritate me. When I condemned you, you were convinced your judgment was better than mine. Now that my opinion might favor you, you refuse to believe it.”
“What I wish to hear from you is precisely what makes caution necessary.”
“Then hear something else. The rumor is humiliating, but it will only become true if I let the debt dictate my conduct. You gave me freedom by helping my father without conditions. Don't take that freedom away by leaving before I can use it.”
I looked at her.
“What are you asking of me?”
“To stay until the end of the week. To come to the Meryton assembly on Friday. To let me answer Wickham and the others with my actions.”
“I don't want you to face a scandal for my sake!”
“It's not only for you. It's for myself.”
I couldn't refuse her that without committing the very fault she had condemned.
“Very well.”
She exhaled slowly.
“You'll stay?”
“Yes.”
“And you won't announce a break?”
“No.”
Her smile trembled.
“Thank you.”
I wanted to take her in my arms. I didn't move.
But she stepped closer and placed her fingers on my sleeve.
“You're learning,” she murmured.
“Painfully.”
“The best lessons are rarely pleasant.”
“Is that an invitation to continue my education?”
Her eyes dropped to my mouth.
“Perhaps.”
She withdrew her hand before I could catch it.
I left Longbourn without knowing what she was planning for the assembly.
But for the first time since Hunsford, I understood that Elizabeth was no longer simply waiting for me to prove myself worthy of her choice.
She was beginning to defend it.