She heard voices as she approached, and she paused outside the partially opened door.
“Explain it to me, then, Darcy! How is it different? Elizabeth has the same family as Jane. Why deter me from marrying Miss Bennet? If Elizabeth is good enough foryou,then Jane is good enough forme!Blast her lack of connections and fortune! This is betrayal of the worst kind. You did not even bother to inform me. I learned fromCarolinethat you were married. Silly me. I did not even think to ask you why you wished to use Netherfield Park in May.”
She recognized Mr. Bingley and froze. His sisters must have reported seeing her at the modiste’s.
Her husband answered. “I put a notice in the paper. I am sorry you did not see it. And, if you recall, my only true objection to the match was my belief that Jane Bennet did not love you.”
“I should have discovered her heart for myself,” Bingley cried, cutting Darcy off. “In fact, I will do so immediately. I will ride for Longbourn tonight and throw myself at Jane’s feet, begging her to forgive me.”
Elizabeth’s heart sank, and she knew what was coming before her husband spoke.
“Jane Bennet has been Jane Collins since December,” Darcy replied quietly.
There was silence, and then Mr. Bingley spoke, his voice broken. “What? No, it is not possible. She loves me; I know it.”
“In that, my opinions proved correct. Why else would she marry so soon after your departure? If she felt deeply for you, she would not now be wed to my aunt’s idiot parson.”
Elizabeth could hear no more. She fled to her room, locking the door and pretending a headache for the rest of the afternoon.
How could he think my sister so mercenary? She would have married Mr. Bingley if he had returned. She loved him and I believe she still does. And what would my husband think if he knew my duplicity?
When her husband came to check on her welfare, Elizabeth answered his inquiries woodenly, unsure she could keep a civil tongue in her head. Her fury burned inside her, and she longed to let the flames consume her. How could she have been so deceived? A few compliments, some tender moments, and intimacy, and she put aside all her previous misgivings and his abominable pride. She longed to correct his misapprehensions, but that would mean admitting she had eavesdropped. It would also require her to admit that she, herself, was as mercenary as he thought Jane to be.
And she was, was she not? She had married to secure her future, and had stubbornly held onto her embittered feelings that her choices had been so few. Now, Elizabeth had become the very thing she had disdained–a fortune-hunting miss who married for nothing more than practicality, security, and pragmatism.But I have not even tried to love him. Is that notmyfault?
Instead, she allowed him to tuck her into her bed with a cool cloth on her head and then fell into fitful sleep once he left herroom. She awoke the next day groggy and irritable, grateful that she was not required to leave the house until tomorrow.
Elizabeth was not formed for ill-humor; and though every prospect of her own was destroyed for the evening, it could not dwell long on her spirits; and, having sorted through her confused emotions, she rose the next morning feeling somewhat better but in subdued spirits.
Her husband’s obliviousness to her mood continued during breakfast. He prattled on about his business the previous day and asked Georgiana about the gowns she had ordered. He asked Elizabeth, too, but feeling unequal to speaking, she deferred to Georgiana to describe the fabric and designs.
“We saw Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley at the modiste,” Georgiana said.
Elizabeth closed her eyes. She did not wish to think about it.
“Yes, Bingley visited yesterday. He apparently missed the wedding announcement in the paper and wished to pay his respects.”
Elizabeth frowned.How can he make light of the situation?“Is that the noise I heard from your study? Sounds of celebration?” She turned and looked at him, raising an eyebrow and throwing him an expression that he could not fail to interpret.I know you lie, husband. Please, believe me intelligent enough to know the difference between celebrations and an argument.
He cleared his throat and looked away. “In truth, he… Well, he did not understand my choice. I had reservations, as you know, about your family and your situation. He could not comprehend how I managed to set them aside.”
Partial truths… I am disappointed.She had hoped he would be honest with her, but to do so would require him to admit that he had orchestrated Jane’s heartbreak. He would not do it. Did he realize the colonel had already told her everything?
She pushed her food around her plate, dissatisfied with his replies. Finally, she stood, declaring her need to see to some correspondence.
He followed her, and she groaned inwardly.Why can he not leave me alone?she asked herself. She wished for more time to reflect and to put off her poor mood.
When they were safely in her private parlor, he took her hand and led her to a settee. “My dear, you do not seem to be yourself. Is something amiss?”
She did not know how to reply. “I will be well,” she said, hoping it would satisfy his curiosity. “‘Tis only a headache.”
“The last time you had that pinched look, you swooned.”
The reminder of Mr. Darcy’s proposal did nothing to help her mood. “I do recall,” she said testily.
“Promise me you will rest.” He squeezed her hand gently, concern in his gaze.
“I promise. I have a letter from my aunt to read and then I shall return to my chambers.”
