He nodded as if she had made a statement, his face expressionless. “Indeed.”
The unspoken word filled the room. It changed everything.Compromised. No well-bred young lady ever wanted that word associated with her.
His eyes were fixed on the window, as if wishing he could fly out of it. His hands were clutched behind his back. She could not see them, but she imagined him twisting and turning them in agitation. He stood very upright, anxiety written plainly into the tightness of his pose.
Why had he come to tell her this?
The realization suddenly sunk in. He had asked for aprivate word. Oh, heavens! Hewasplanning to propose! Earlier, she had thought for just a second that maybe he cared for her. But his demeanor indicated that asking for her hand in marriage was the last thing he wanted.
“I see,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper. “You believe I have been ruined.”
A strange kind of clarity came upon her. She could hardly blame him for his reluctance. After all, Mr. Darcy had done his best to avoid this situation. He had suspected this might happen. Shewas the one who had asked him to come into the carriage. She knew when she did it that it was a risk. It seemed a risk worth taking at that point, under the circumstances.
“It is not a matter of belief,” he replied. “I know it to be true. It is all over White’s.”
“But how do they know my name?” she said, suddenly. “Surely you did not tell them?”
He winced. “Of course not. They have their own nickname for you. They call youThe Siren of the Serpentine.”
Her shoulders sagged in relief. “Well then, how is that a problem? I cannot be ruined if no one even knows my name.”
“It is only a matter of time. Bets have been placed in the betting books. When money is at stake, people will find a way.”
She was bewildered. Clubs. Bets. Betting Books.
“The Siren of the Serpentine. I like the ring of it,” she said, thinking how absurd it was. All this fuss because she rode in a carriage with a man, a sister, and a young child! “At least they did not call me an eel, which would have been more appropriate under the circumstances.”
A laugh escaped Mr. Darcy, and for a moment, the gravity of the situation disappeared.
“The Eel of the Serpentine does not quite have the same resonance,” he said, in agreement. The gentleman she had first met returned, a spark of amusement in his eyes. Then his expression turned grave.
“It is no laughing matter, I can assure you, Miss Bennet. Society can be ruthless and very cruel. You cannot hope to escape intact. They will track you down. It will become a challenge, since there is money at stake.”
He went to the window and looked down at the street. “You can be certain that they have posted a boy to watch my house, to run after my carriage, to discover where I go and who I meet. He may already have followed me here yesterday, when I came. Or he may be waiting outside right now, hidden around some corner. I took the precaution of not using my own carriage and asking to be let out near St. James’s Park. But there are also ways to bribe the servants.”
He came from the window and hovered over her, looking ill at ease.
“That is why I feel I have no choice but to offer you the protection of my name and ask for your hand in marriage, Miss Bennet.”
The words sank like a stone inside her. It was all too sudden, too extraordinary.
“But this is only the third time we have ever seen each other!” she blurted.
His mouth twisted. “I am very well aware of that.”
While Mr. Darcy spoke to her so earnestly, Elizabeth stared, scarcely believing what her ears were telling her. He was certainly true to his word. He believed in being honest, and that was evident in everything he was saying.
She tried her best not to take offence, because he was, after all, performing a sacrifice, much as he had done when he jumped in the river without considering the danger. For the second time since she met him, she did not know whether she ought to laugh or to cry. Certainly, at this particular moment, she would like to do both. Neither reaction was appropriate, since Mr. Darcy was engaged in rationally explaining why she was not a suitable wife for him.
To distract herself, she focused on his features. Hair that was a rich brown, fashionably cut, elegant curls sweeping onto a broad brow. He had intelligent eyes, dark and long eyelashes. It was his lips that drew her attention most. They were full and surprisingly enticing. She wondered what they would feel like if she leaned forward and kissed him.
She broke off the wayward thought. She had no intention of kissing this gentleman, not now, not ever. He was the last man on earth she would wish to marry. She would never tell him so, of course, but she was simply waiting for him to finish so she could answer him.
He finally came to the end of the monologue. She looked down at his hands and saw that his fingers were sprayed out. He had counted exactly ten reasons why they should not marry. She could almost admire the perfect symmetry, except that he was speaking abouther.
He had fallen silent and was waiting for her answer.
She pressed her hands together, thinking how she could frame her rejection to someone like Mr. Darcy, who, she suspected, had no idea she was going to say no.
