Chapter Ten
Upon his entrance to Mr. Bennet’s sickroom, Darcy discovered the older gentleman looking less decrepit than anticipated. One side of his face was sunken, but not so deeply as he had imagined. The gentleman’s eyes were alert, and his skin had a healthy appearance to it.
He held a book in his lap.
Darcy looked towards the tome to discern the title on the cover.
Mr. Bennet said, with a one-sided smile, “Pretence. Can’t hold it to read. Easily. Better every day.”
“I am glad to hear that.”
“Might die. New attack. Any day. Know. Will or won’t. Will die…someday. No matter what.”
“Yes.”
The ailing gentleman closed his eyes. He took a slow breath. He opened his eyes. He then said in an almost clear voice, with only slight slurring, “Why do you marry my daughter?”
“I trust her to be good for Emily. And because I must marry someone.”
Mr. Bennet frowned. “Speak honestly. That all?”
“I shall not say I love her, but I do like the look of her. I did not want her to be forced to marry Mr. Collins. The prospect of that made my sister most unhappy.”
“That is…better. Will you be kind?”
“Yes, as kind as I can be.”
“No matter what?”
“Mr. Bennet, I cannot promise that. I can swear that whatever rumours you have heard about my first wife, that I committed no crime. Beyond that, I do not believe that your daughter would betray me in the way that Mary did. I would not marry her if I feared that.”
He had not known that he did not fear a betrayal from Elizabeth until he said this.
It was not that her doing so would not hurt.
It would hurt intensely. He just…he did not believe that she could do it.
He did not understand the sensation. It was nonsensical.
Yet it was deep and firm. Whatever else she would do—he could imagine them having terrible arguments—he was sure deep in his heart that she would never violate her vows.
Mr. Bennet slumped a little and closed his eyes for several seconds. “Are you quick? In judging?”
“I believe that I am slow and deliberate, that I am cautious before I believe rumours or evil about another.”
“Then I cannot…refuse.”
Darcy had an odd sensation, one which had struck him also during the conversation in which he had proposed.
It was as though he was somehow forcing her into this marriage, as though he were using her and taking advantage of their great disparity in wealth to gain something from her that he could not honestly obtain.
Nonsense. He had done her a great favour, an enormous kindness, and she knew that and had said as much.
Darcy shook Mr. Bennet’s hand.
The man looked not only sick but tired and worn.
His speech became less clear, and for a moment Darcy feared that the man might cry. “Will you…special licence? Best quickly, so done before…I die. Don’t plan dying. But might.”
“A special licence is a good notion. I can bear the cost easily, and my uncle is a friend of the archbishop’s, so there will be no trouble with the issuance.
I must go to London in any case to have the settlement drawn up and to determine with my solicitor which assets I should place within the agreement. ”
Mr. Bennet nodded. “Important. But no head right now. Will look at papers. Talk. When you return.”
“Yes. But I promise to present in them everything that is customary to settle upon a wife who brings no dowry, and to write the terms in such a way as to ensure that in every possible situation, your family, especially Miss Jane Bennet, will be cared for.”
“Ashamed. So very ashamed. Must think ill of me.”
Darcy did not reply.
Mr. Bennet studied him. Whatever he saw there seemed to hearten the older man, for he then said with a sparkle in his eye and a twist to his smile that was very like how his favourite daughter looked when amused, “No face for bluffs.”
It was impossible for Darcy not to smile in reply. “It is not my place to judge.”
Mr. Bennet chuckled, then closed his eyes and slumped deeper into his pillows. “Later, more talk.”
Darcy bade him farewell and went to the drawing room.
As they tended to, Bingley and Miss Bennet spoke on the sofa.
Elizabeth held Emily on her lap as she sat next to Georgiana at the pianoforte. Mr. Collins and Mrs. Bennet stood next to them, Mr. Collins asking once again for Elizabeth to explain her business with Darcy. “I have every right to know your dearest interests.”
“You do not,” Elizabeth replied, then she smiled to see him enter the room.
“Lizzy! Think what you are saying,” Mrs. Bennet said, aghast. “You must—”
Darcy walked to Elizabeth and took her hand. She stood, perching Emily on one hip.
He had an odd feeling in his stomach, as though this would be what made it real. He said clearly to everyone in the room, “Permit me to announce that Miss Elizabeth has accepted my offer of marriage.”
Mrs. Bennet and Mr. Collins exclaimed together, “Marriage?”
It was almost amusing the way that each gulped for air.
Darcy glanced at Elizabeth. She had a private smile as well, though there was something in her air that was unsettled.
His sister’s eyes went wide. “But really? That was it?”
Elizabeth nodded and smiled at her.
A grin spread across Georgiana’s face. “Lizzy, we are to be sisters?”
“You will not dislike such a situation?”
“No, no!” Georgiana embraced Elizabeth, squeezing Emily between them.
His daughter said in a demanding tone, “Tell me! Tell me. What does this mean?”
“Lizzy will be your new mama,” Georgiana said cheerfully.
“Oh.” Emily frowned for a little before she began to cry.
This was not the response Darcy had expected from the girl, but when he tried to take her from Elizabeth to hold, she instead clung around Elizabeth’s neck and sobbed, saying, “Want play. Want play.”
“Dear, dear,” Elizabeth murmured, kissing his daughter’s hair. “I imagined that you would be happy.”
“Want play. Want play.”
“Well of course we shall play together a great deal.”
“Mama never played. Want play.”
“Ah,” Elizabeth said. “I begin to understand. Let us drop this notion of ‘Mama’ for a little while. Would you like it if I went to your house at Pemberley to live with you?”
“Uh.” This groan had an approving note to it, though Emily continued to cry but with less fervour.
“I shall,” Elizabeth said. “You may keep me for however long you wish. And we shall play as much as you want, or at least for several hours a day.”
“Promise?”
“I swear.”
“Papa says if you swear, you mean it. Don’t swear if you don’t mean it.”
“I mean it. We shall stay together.”
Emily embraced her again, and with a laugh, Elizabeth said, “You are quite heavy for me to carry for five minutes together. Might I put you down?”
“No.”
Elizabeth laughed, shook her head at Darcy when he went to try and take the child away, and resettled her in her arms. “Only one or two minutes more, then I shall need to set you down.”
Mr. Collins at last regained his senses and said, “But-but—have you had this notion for long? When did you—”
“Mr. Collins, I was utterly astonished to be asked an hour ago,” Elizabeth said. “But you could not expect me to give any other answer to Mr. Darcy.”
“Have you asked your aunt for permission to marry Miss Elizabeth?” Mr. Collins wiped a hand over his forehead. “She was most upset with your first marriage. I fear that this will not please her either.”
“Mr. Collins, as much as I respect my aunt, I have never in my life begged her permission.”
“B-b-but…she is Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”
Georgiana pressed her lips tightly together; it was clear to Darcy she was repressing a snort. Elizabeth had been good for her.
“And I am Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley. I have decided. And I have acted.”
“Oh my, oh my.” Mr. Collins wrung his hands.
Mrs. Bennet embraced Elizabeth. “My dear, dear, dear clever daughter! How did you manage it? And when everyone knows that Mr. Darcy disliked you.”
“I did not.”
“He really did not,” Elizabeth said, laughing a little and embracing her mother.
Bingley offered his congratulations, but Darcy noticed that when Miss Bennet came up to Elizabeth, she only hugged her sister but did not say anything encouraging.
When the time for Darcy to return to Netherfield came, Elizabeth went with him into the vestibule, and Georgiana and Bingley took Emily on ahead so that he could have a little privacy with her.
Mrs. Bennet had proved accommodating to Darcy in anything that he desired. Whatever the preferences of Mr. Bennet might have been with regard to the two of them having a brief interlude without anyone watching, he had not stated them to Darcy.
Elizabeth smiled up at him, but her eyes had a confused and almost frightened look about them.
He suddenly wished to hold her tight and wrap her in an embrace that would make her safe forever.
Instead he brushed his hand over her cheek.
“I shall leave for London early in the morning so that I can return as soon as possible with the licence. The whole of the business that I must conduct will take at least three days, and I fear it might require a fourth. But my sister and Emily will visit you every day.”
“I shall be delighted to see them.” She wrapped her arms around her chest but dropped them again immediately and let them hang at her sides.
Her eyes gleamed in the dim light. Her lips were soft and trembling.
Darcy stepped close, moving slowly, wishing to give her an opportunity to step away if she wished to—he did not know why he was so cautious, since she had already agreed to share every intimacy with him.
Instead of drawing back she tilted her face upwards, her mouth meeting his for a soft kiss.
His lips tingled, and Darcy smiled widely when they pulled back.
“Till I return.”
She put her hand over her lips, and he could not tell whether she was smiling or not. But he thought there was a smile in her tone when she said, “I look forward to it, Mr. Darcy.”