“I truly hesitate to say something so hurtful, but you seem to have overlooked the fact that just because I came here with a wish to marry, does not mean that I will marry anyone who asks me, and it does not follow that I wish to marryyou. I find you rather too sure of yourself.” Elizabeth tried to sound gentle. She had no desire to hurt the man. He was rather too certain of her acceptance, but she had no desire to mortify him.
Mr Cartwright’s face fell, “You are truly saying no?”
“I am, but with all the goodwill in the world, sir.” Elizabeth smiled. “It is not too late for you to select another lady. What made you chuse me? Perhaps I can help you decide on someone equally as worthy.”
“No, it is no use.” Mr Cartwright turned away. “I liked you for your lively wit and happy nature. And your industriousness. You will make some man a superior wife someday. Your sisters are happy and industrious women, but not like you. Besides, Miss Bennet will probably marry that Bingley fellow, and Miss Mary is far too quiet and pious for me. I knew immediately that I did not wish to marry any of the other ladies as soon as I met them. I believe I will depart today. I do not feel equal to enjoying the rest of the party.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I felt that way within a few days of arriving. I have high hopes for my sisters, but I do not have any expectation of leaving here engaged,” Elizabeth replied. “If you will not remain, then you ought to lease the estate called Netherfield in my home village. You say you wish to marry and purchase an estate near town. Meryton is only four hours from London, and filled with genteel ladies of the unwed variety. The last family to lease the place, The Lockharts, met here at Ever After End, and have recently left for their new estate in Derbyshire.”
“Perhaps I will, Miss Elizabeth. That sounds like just what I should do! Filled with unwed genteel ladies, you say?” he asked.
“Unwed ladies are hanging from the rafters in Meryton, sir,” Elizabeth assured him. “Please tell them I sent you, and ask them to think kindly of me in the future.”
The morningafter the popped corn battle of 1812, Darcy had broken his fast early, then spent the morning in his godmother’s study, reviewing the correspondence that he had received the day before. A number of younger sons who still lived with their families and worked as labourers on his estate were interested in taking on tenancies and starting families. They only lacked the funds for down-payments on their leases.
His godmother would not take a loan, but he had arranged for four young men from Pemberley to do so. He would loan them twenty-five pounds each, which they would use to pay their deposit for their new tenancies. They would pay him back half from their first harvest, and the rest from their second, with an option to extend the loans if there was hardship or loss of crops.
There were two other farmers who had left tenancies in other areas of the kingdom, who had excellent references and, according to those references, fine families. These men knew how to work the land, and could pay their own deposits. Darcy had offered them places at Ever After End.
The land surveyors were out working on the estate each day, and once their report was received, the six tenants creating trouble would be immediately evicted. Darcy had visited the magistrate and put all the pressure of his connections on the man, who had finally agreed to come out and do his job. The bailiffs were standing by, and once the farms were cleared of the former tenants, expresses would be sent to the new tenants, instructing them to come with haste.
When he finished his work for the morning, he left the study, hoping to find Miss Elizabeth in the garden, or perhaps preparing for an outing and shopping expedition in Shepton Mallet with the others. Perhaps he could persuade her to join him and his sister in their carriage.
He entered the hall downstairs and found a group outside his godmother’s morning room, that included his godmother. “What is happening?” he asked pleasantly.
“Cartwright is getting the mitten?1,” Miss Dutton answered, perking her ear towards the open door.
“Getting the what?” Darcy asked. It almost seemed like Miss Dutton was speaking a completely different language that used all the same words as English, but the words had entirely different meaningswhen she used them.
“Miss Elizabeth is in receipt of our first proposal of the summer, I think,” Aunt Theodosia said excitedly.
“She doesn’t like him,” said Miss Dutton. “Elizabeth won’t accept a proposal from a man she don’t like.”
Darcy, unable to be present when the couple exited the room, fled the scene in the hopes that, if congratulationswerein order, he could offer them later, when he was master of himself.
Darcy hopedeach morning to run into Miss Elizabeth, but it seemed that no matter which of her favourite paths he checked, he never found her on any of them in the mornings, though he was certain that she still walked out. It had been a week since the night of the popped corn, of which he had been obliged to order a quantity for Pemberley by his sister.
He had decided the day that he felt he nearly lost her, when she could have been taken by Cartwright, that he wished to know her better. But he could never find her in the morning, and in the drawing rooms in the evening, she surrounded herself with the bevy of ladies that Darcy would rather face fire than brave. In the afternoons, she often chaperoned her sister, who eschewed many of the planned activities in favour of joining one of the gentlemen in a charitable endeavour at an orphanage an hour away in Bath.
Finally, after a whole week, favour smiled upon him. Having come across her finally on his morning ride, he was quick to dismount and approach her.
“Miss Elizabeth!” he exclaimed. “How fortunate I am to meet you here.”
“You are? Why?” Elizabeth asked in confusion, and looked at him with some hesitancy.
Darcy felt a pang of guilt at how badly he must have hurt her feelings with his unkind words the morning she had overheard him with Bingley. “Will you forgive me?” he asked.
“Forgive you?” she echoed in bewilderment. “For what?”
“I cannot help but regret my cruel and untrue words the last time we met outdoors, Miss Elizabeth. The entire week that you remained in your rooms was torment to me. I would do anything to take back what I said,” Darcy answered sincerely.
Elizabeth stared at him for a moment before laughter bubbled up inside her, and she said, “Oh, you silly man! Did you believe I hid in my room for a week only because of your terrible blunder?”
“Did you not?” Darcy asked.
Elizabeth glared at him. “I will not lie and say that your words did not hurt me, Mr Darcy, but not everything has to do with you!”
“I-I beg your pardon,” said Darcy, cheeks flaming.
