He sat and stared into the fireplace for some time, reflecting on both Georgiana’s and Richard’s reactions to Miss Bennet’s unexpected response. The very fact that Georgiana had been so involved was a surprise in itself, but he was glad to see his sister growing in confidence.
Georgiana had made an important comment.You must be relieved that you are not going to be forced into the marriage.
It was true. He should have been delighted that Miss Bennet had spared him from the terrible fate of being forced into marriage. He should be feeling delighted that someone whose background was so inferior to his own had rejected him. Why was he not jumping from joy? Any rational man would be. And yet, he felt no such thing.
It was bewildering. Beyond his justifiable anger, he was experiencing another feeling, something akin to disappointment. He suddenly had an overpowering urge to go back, to knock at Mr. Gardiner’s door and convince Miss Bennet not to throw away the opportunity.
The only thing that prevented him was the certainty that she did not consider his offer anopportunityat all. She seemed to look upon it as a prison, a life-time sentence imposed upon her.
Why should this even bother him, when he had made every effort to keep Miss Bennet at an arm’s length? He was as amazed at himself as he was at her.
He did not have the answer to Georgiana’s question, perhaps because he still expected Miss Bennet to change her mind. Any moment now, he decided, there would be a knock on the door, and he would receive a note.
Darcy poured himself a small glass of port, took up one of the books on his bedside table, and settled himself down near the fire.
He waited for Miss Bennet’s message until past midnight, but nothing came. Maybe he should have given her more time.
Well, there was nothing more to be done, at least, not tonight. Getting into bed, he blew out his candle. When he finally fell asleep, he dreamt of rescuing Miss Bennet. Except that instead of rescuing her, it was Darcy himself who was drowning.
Chapter 13
Elizabeth woke up with a churning feeling in the pit of her stomach. It had been a turbulent night, and she was bleary-eyed and exhausted. Yesterday’s event hammered at her mind, and with them came a flood of questions and uncertainties. Was she making a terrible mistake? Should she have run after Mr. Darcy and told him she had changed her mind? Could she still send him a message, telling him she would marry him after all, even if he had only given her until midnight?
She was tempted. She could throw on a gown and rush downstairs. She could catch her uncle before he went to work and ask him to pen that note.
Then she saw Mr. Darcy’s face in her mind’s eye. His earnest expression. His insistence on keeping his promise to Maggie, along with his evident satisfaction in fulfilling it. His remarks about needing to tell children the truth. His clumsy attempt to warn Elizabeth of the problems she would face as his wife. His intentions were good, even if his manner of presenting them was dreadful.
Mr. Darcy was a good man. He deserved the chance to fall in love and to live his life with a woman who could understand him fully and fit well into his life. Unfortunately, Elizabeth was not that woman. That much was obvious.
He had been selfless when he asked for her hand in marriage. She had to return the favor. She could not allow her own selfish wishes to destroy his life. She had to resist temptation. His happiness depended on her not giving in.
Rising from her bed with renewed determination, Elizabeth donned her morning dress and prepared herself for the ordeal of dealing with her aunt and uncle. She went downstairs with her head held high.
Her uncle and aunt were still at breakfast. Mr. Gardiner sent Elizabeth a probing look as she greeted them. She gave him a sunny smile.
“Good morning, Lizzy,” said Mrs. Gardiner. “Did you sleep well?”
It was a pointed question. How could Elizabeth possibly have slept well?
“Not particularly,” she replied, cheerfully. She could tell they were dying of curiosity to discover whether she hadseen sense, as Mr. Gardiner would have put it.
“Could we talk after breakfast?”
She piled her plate with food, thinking she needed armor for the upcoming battle. But when she sat down to eat, her stomach was too tied up in knots. She was barely able to eat any of it.
“Are you going to eat those kippers?” said her uncle. “Waste not, want not.”
That was not a philosophy Mr. Darcy would advocate. She was willing to wager a large sum on it. Though perhaps she should not be thinking about wagers, given her own situation.
“It is an opportunity for both you and your sisters,” remarked her uncle, helping himself to her kippers.
Elizabeth knew someone was bound to raise the issue of her sisters, but she did not intend to feel guilty.
“It may be an opportunity for us,” said Elizabeth. “But have you considered Mr. Darcy himself? How can I allow him to sacrifice himself over such a foolish matter. I cannot expect a gentleman, a stranger, to give up his life because of a noble deed. Doyou really think he should pay such a heavy price for saving Margaret?”
She had their attention. She pressed on. “Nothing occurred between me and Mr. Darcy. I do not need to marry him. Surely you, of all people, cannot impose this marriage on Mr. Darcy, not after what he has done for you.”
Mr. Gardiner, who had begun to stand up and was preparing to leave, sat down heavily in his chair. “What is to be done, then?”
