The truth was that Miss Bennet would make a wonderful wife to someone else. She was a remarkable young lady. But that person could not be Darcy.
With it came the recognition that he had been allowing his self-mastery to weaken. His quarrel with Lady Catherine was aperfect example. He had abandoned the habits of many years of hard-earned control. His growing regard for Miss Bennet had been so insidious that he was in the middle of it before he knew it.
Thank heavens for Miss Bingley. By drawing attention to Miss Bennet’s position in society, she had done him a huge favor. She had reminded him that he had to act before he fell off the edge of a cliff.
Darcy awoke the next morning with a new sense of purpose. Having seen his way clearly, it was time to put it into practice. He had to cut all ties and ensure that Miss Bennet did not have any expectations. It would not be a pleasant task, nor would it be an easy one. He would have to do it without making anything explicit. Thankfully, nothing had been said or done that would indicate any interest on his part. A few conversations, nothing more.
Knowing she would be at breakfast around this time, he called on her at his sister’s house. He did not join her for breakfast. That would strain his resolve beyond its limits. Instead, he asked for her and her maid to join them in the library, as he had something to discuss with her concerning his sister.
As he waited, he stood looking out of the window at the oval garden in the middle. It was a pretty garden. He had once imagined spending some time with her there, but it was not meant to be. His shoulders felt like boulders, his jaw like pincers, but his will was strong. He would do what was necessary.
It was not long before she appeared, accompanied by the maid. He turned to her, but stayed in his position at the window, waving in the direction of the armchair.
“Please be seated, Miss Bennet. This will not take long.”
She sat down, her expression more serious than usual.
He did not pause to think. If this was to be done, it had to be done quickly, before his determination wavered.
“It has come to my attention that Miss Darcy is becoming uncommonly attached to you, Miss Bennet, and you to her. While this has had a positive effect on my sister, I fear that, in time, it may create more problems.”
She frowned, looking as if she was going to object. He had to have his say. He could not risk letting her influence him in any way.
“Please allow me to finish, madam. I mean this kindly, Miss Bennet, but please keep in mind that you are here for only a short time, and that you cannot become too close to my sister. You will be leaving us for Longbourn soon, and our acquaintance will be at an end.”
He was saying it more for his own benefit than for hers, but she looked at him slack-jawed and in shock.
“Are you saying that we will no longer be in contact?”
The very thought, the very idea of that happening was like a stab to the heart. He could not imagine life without Miss Bennet. But he must face it. He must be strong and accept that she would soon be out of his life, and that she was nothing more than an acquaintance who would soon be a stranger.
“You may, of course, exchange letters with Georgiana.” He paused, wondering if that was a good idea for any of them. “We intend to leave for Pemberley soon afterwards, so you will need to address them there.” The words were starting to stick in his throat. His voice sounded harsh and distant even to his own ears.
“But you will not always be in Pemberley. Perhaps when I come to visit my aunt and uncle, I could meet with your sister.”
His heart leapt at the idea. For her to return to London, for him to see her again – his whole being longed for it. Which is why he had to dismiss it at once.
“Perhaps. But I should warn you that Georgiana will be staying with me in Pemberley until at least next March.”
March was a long time away. By March, he would have forgotten Miss Bennet. He would make sure of it, and then, if he saw her again, he would be indifferent. She would be nothing more than a temporary memory, nothing like this searing longing to be by her side. It would be a simple meeting of two people who had once shared some time together but now meant nothing to each other.
The very idea of forgetting her made his stomach burn. Could Miss Bennet really become nothing to him? Trying to imagine living without her leeched the strength from his body. He felt ill. How could he face the vast emptiness of her absence? His life stretched before him, gray and meaningless.
He drew on the last shred of self-discipline to stay firm. He could not allow himself to weaken. It had to be. It must be. He had no choice. He had to forget her, or he would betray the memory of his parents and the unspoken promises he had made to his ancestors when he had inherited Pemberley and became its keeper. He owed it to all those who came before him to set this infatuation aside and find someone suitable to be Pemberley’s mistress.
“Well, then,” said Miss Bennet, her face masked for the first time since he met her. Her jaw was grim, her lips drawn in a tight line. “There is nothing more to be said, is there? Did you want to speak to me about something else?”
He hated that he was doing this to her, but at the same time, it was necessary. Not for her, because she did not particularly care for him, but for his own peace of mind. There must be no going back, and no temptation from now until the moment she left totake this—situation— any further. He must make a clean break, no matter how brutal it felt. There could be no expectations of anything else. He must remove all hope, because that was the only way he could put it all behind him.
As she walked away, he felt as if she was taking a part of him with her. He wanted to call her back, desperately. He had to draw on all his strength to stop himself.
She stopped as she reached the door and turned back. His foolish pulse quickened, irrationally, hoping vaguely things could be made right somehow, that it could all work out without any heartbreak.
“Did what Miss Bingley say yesterday at dinner have any bearing on what you are saying now?”
Her words startled him. How could she think he could be so easily swayed? That he would give up the woman he loved to satisfy someone like Bingley’s sister? Though in all honesty, it was true that Miss Bingley was more than partly responsible for it.
“What she said, what she spoke about, had no bearing on what I am saying. But it was a reminder that it would not be long before you would be—” he hesitated, a pebble forming in his throat. He could not use the word gone. It was too final. “— departing for Longbourn.” He gave a pale smile. It felt like he was tearing off a part of his skin. “I simply wanted to reinforce the terms of our agreement, and make the situation clearer.”
