"It was. But innocence matters little when reputations are at stake." She twisted her hands in her lap. "My sister is heartbroken. My mother is beside herself. And it is my fault, my thoughtless action that has brought this upon them."
"You are not thoughtless, Miss Bennet. I have known you too long to believe that."
"Yet here we are. You have surely heard the gossip. Why do you not withdraw as well? Your family's reputation would be better served by severing our acquaintance."
Andrew was quiet for a moment, his gaze on the distant hills. When he spoke, his voice was steady. "I will not pretend I have not heard the talk. One cannot avoid it in Meryton. But I have also known you since we were children. I know your character. And I do not base my regard on the speculation of gossip."
The words, kind as they were, only deepened her guilt. "You should not tie yourself to a family touched by scandal. It will reflect poorly on you."
"Let me decide what will reflect poorly on me." He smiled slightly. "I suspect this conversation is leading somewhere. You plan to accept Mr Darcy's offer, do you not?"
Elizabeth met his eyes, seeing understanding there rather than reproach. "I do not wish to. The circumstances—his personal conflict in relation to the aftermath of his injury, the obligation rather than choice—it all feels wrong. But I cannot deny that marrying him would end the scandal. It would protect my sisters, restore my family's standing. And Mr Darcy is not a bad man. Merely an unfortunate one."
"He is also exceedingly wealthy and well-connected," Andrew observed mildly. “Those are not inconsiderable advantages."
"Is that why you think I should accept? For his wealth?"
"No. I think you should accept because you are torturing yourself with guilt over something that was not your fault, and marrying Mr Darcy will ease that guilt. Because your family's welfare matters to you more than your own happiness, and this marriage serves their interests. And because..." He hesitated, then continued, "Because when you speak of Mr Darcy, there is something in your voice that suggests he is not entirely indifferent to you."
Elizabeth stared at him. "I barely know him."
"Yet recognised his vulnerability and responded to it. That speaks to some connection between you, however nascent." Andrew's expression was kind, if tinged with melancholy. "I will not pretend I am pleased to lose your company, Miss Bennet. But I would rather see you married to a man who might make you happy than watch you sacrifice yourself entirely for duty's sake."
"He might not make me happy. We are strangers to one another."
"Then you will come to know each other. You are both intelligent, thoughtful people. There is potential there." He stood, offering his hand to help her rise. "And if you find you cannot be happy with him, at least you will have the consolation of knowing you protected your family and fulfilled your obligations. That is more than many marriages offer."
Elizabeth took his hand, allowing him to draw her to her feet. The autumn wind stirred the leaves above them, sending a cascade of gold and russet drifting down around them like a benediction or farewell.
"You deserve better than this," she said. "Better than watching the woman you might have courted marry someone else."
"Perhaps." Andrew's smile remained warm despite the sadness beneath it. "But I will always value your happiness above all, Miss Bennet. If Mr Darcy can provide that happiness—or at least not impede it entirely—then I wish you both well."
They walked back towards Longbourn together, speaking of inconsequential things—the current weather, the coming winter, a book they had both recently read. By the time they parted at the gate, Elizabeth's decision had crystallised with an almost painful clarity.
She would accept Mr Darcy's offer.
Not because she was madly in love with him—how could she, when they barely knew one another? Not because she particularly wished to be married, at least not yet, not like this. But because she could not bear to see her sisters suffer for her actions, could not watch Kitty's tears or Jane's prospects diminish while she clung to principles that seemed increasingly self-indulgent.
Mr Darcy had said he would await her decision. That he, too, was considering the situation. She wondered if he had reached the same conclusion she had—that this marriage, however imperfect its origins, was the path of least harm for all involved.
She entered Longbourn through the front door this time, her spine straight and her resolution firm. Her mother appeared immediately, as though she had been watching for Elizabeth's return.
"Lizzy! Where have you been? We have been so worried—"
"I have made my decision, Mama. I will accept Mr Darcy's offer of marriage. You may write to inform him of my answer whenever you wish."
Mrs Bennet's shriek of joy could likely be heard in Meryton. She seized Elizabeth's hands, exclaiming that she had always known Lizzy would see sense eventually. Kitty looked up from the sofa, her tears momentarily forgotten in surprise. Mary nodded approvingly. And Jane—
Jane's expression held understanding and sympathy in equal measure.
"Are you certain?" she asked softly, for Elizabeth's ears alone.
"I am certain it is necessary," Elizabeth replied. "Whether I am certain it is right remains to be seen."
Jane hugged her briefly, just before a joyous Mrs Bennet swept Elizabeth into a fresh round of exclamations and plans.
Through it all, Elizabeth remained firm and certain with the decision she'd just made. Her course was set now. Now she would simply have to live with the outcomes of that choice—whatever they might prove to be.
