“Does he.” Elizabeth cringed. “I thought he had stopped doing that.”
“If you know him better now, then you will tell him to propose again, and he will.”
“No, he won’t,” said Elizabeth.Because I am already married, but I cannot very well tell Caroline Bingley that, not unless I want everyone on earth to know.Then it was Elizabeth’s turn to stop walking. She considered this prospect, wondering if it might not be the answer to all of her problems. If it were rumored that she was married to the colonel, then perhaps she could simply confirm the rumor. Hmm. It had possibilities. Of course, she’d have to explain why she’dconcealed the marriage at all, and she didn’t know why she might say that, but if she gave some excuse, it must be innocent.
“Yes, I think he will,” said Caroline. “My brother will marry your sister, and he will marry you, and I shall be alone and poor Miss Darcy shall be alone, and why have the two of you upendedeverything?”
Elizabeth caught up with her. “You’re upset.”
Caroline glared at her. “You unsettle me, I must say. It’s difficult to keep one’s composure around you for some reason. You have this way of saying things, and you cut right into the meat of matters, and it badly affects me! Sometimes, and I am ashamed to say this, Miss Elizabeth, for I wish to say that I do not feel this way about anyone, but I think I hate you!”
Elizabeth had to smile at this, because it was so similar to her own sentiment. “Maybe we simply don’t mix well, Miss Bingley? Like oil and water?”
Caroline eyed her, looking abashed. “Oh, I don’t know.” A pause. “Do you think so?”
“The truth is that Mr. Darcy cannot propose to me, because I am married to his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam,” said Elizabeth. “But you must not tell anyone, do you understand me, for we have married in secret. We were overcome with the romance of it all, and we wished to be married before he left for France. When he returns from the fighting, we shall announce it, have a proper ceremony, all of that. But for now, we must conceal it.”
“Oh,” said Caroline, eyes very wide. “Truly?”
“Truly,” said Elizabeth. “And Mr. Darcy knows, for his cousin shared it with him.”
“The colonel was at Rosings as well,” said Caroline in a knowing voice. “You met him then.”
Elizabeth nodded.
“So, then, as you were saying, Mr. Darcy is free.” Caroline regarded her, a small smile playing on her lips. “Well, this is all very good to know, Eliza.”
“You must promise me to keep my secret!” said Elizabeth.
“Oh, of course,” said Caroline. “I shall not tell a soul. I promise.” She immediately linked arms with Elizabeth, who couldn’t help but smile.
Yes, this was a good thing, she thought. And if it forced Colonel Fitzwilliam’s hand, meaning that he would have to have a real ceremony and to acknowledge her publicly when he returned, so much the better, she thought. Last night, when talking to Mr. Darcy, she had realized that she wasn’t wrong to feel as if she wished more from a husband than what she had gotten from the colonel. This way, she wouldn’t have to ask or beg. Perhaps it was a bit manipulative, but she wasn’t entirely sure she cared.
He had actually used her ill, her husband had.
She loved him anyway, but the love she bore Richard Fitzwilliam was a strange and fraught love, full of insecurity and longing.
“So, tell me again what it is that you think Mr. Darcy finds attractive about a woman,” said Caroline, raising her eyebrows.
Elizabeth hesitated. Wait a moment, Mr. Darcy would never actually marry Caroline Bingley, would he? She did not like that idea. Of course, Mr. Darcy was going to have to marry somebody, eventually.
Yes, and of course he should marry someone, and he should be happy, and—
“Is that someone walking towards us on the path?” said Elizabeth, looking up and seizing on anything to change the subject. She waved at the distant figure.
“Oh, Eliza, I am certain that person is out here for solitude,” said Caroline.
The figure waved back.
“Well, just a friendly wave, I suppose,” said Elizabeth. “Now, what were we talking about, how it was that I met the colonel in the first place? I must say that he was ever so easy to talk to, always with a smile, and that he has a sort of, well, ruggedness to him that I find ever so appealing.”
“Yes, of course you wish to talk of your husband,” muttered Caroline.
But now it was clear that the figure was approaching them. As the figure got closer, it was obviously a man, dressed in a tidy suit, with a handful of berries.
Caroline’s breath caught and she squared her shoulders. “Oh!” she said. “Oh, Your Grace, it’s you, is it? Well, of course, it’s you. You live just there, so you must walk on these grounds often.” She waved off in the direction of Neith Abbey.
“Yes, it’s Miss Bingley, is it not?” said the approaching figure.
