He continued staring at her with—she realised—a mixture of distress and compassion.What does it matter whether I explain, to this near stranger, the news which has brought me low? I must become accustomed to the telling of it.Why not practise on the one man in the county who disapproves of me and despises my family? If nothing else, he will, finally, leave me alone.
After all, her dignity was already as ruined as her new dress.
“You are to congratulate me, Mr Darcy. I have just discovered—this very day, in fact—that I am to be married.” Her voice wobbled, but she gained control once more. “One of my father’s friends—a man of fortune and property—has offered for me, and Papa has-has accepted on my behalf.”
She managed the announcement well enough, she thought. Unfortunately, and to her utter dismay, she then burst into noisy tears. It was all she could do, as the grief tore from her, to silence her sobs, cover her face, and try and curl into a ball, wishing he would leave and she could disappear.
But he did not. After a few moments, Elizabeth felt his heavy hand upon her shaking shoulders, straightening his coat to better cover her—and then remaining there, a compassionate weight. He said nothing, thankfully, until her sobs were reduced to hiccoughs. The handkerchief he gave to her was soon soaked with her tears.
“I am grieved for you,” he said finally, his voice low and gentle.
Elizabeth took a shuddering breath. “I am a fool to care, I suppose. I-I had always believed the choice would be my own and never prepared myself for a different fate. In a prudential light, it is a very good match for me. Our estate is entailed—to my cousin, Mr Collins, who introduced himself to you this evening so rudely. I suppose it could be worse…Papa might have betrothed me tohim.” She tried for a weak smile, but it would not emerge.
“He is not the first man to introduce himself to me at a party. Think nothing of it,” Mr Darcy said kindly.
Mr Darcy…kind? It was a strange notion, but she could think of nothing to say in reply.
At long last, he ventured another remark. “We live in modern times. Your father cannot force you to speak vows, not according to the law.”
She nearly bit out a sarcasm, for should the head of her home refuse to feed her if she refused to wed, or…well, there were a hundred ways to force a powerless female’s hand. But Mr Darcy was well enough acquainted with Mr Bennet; he would know such obvious cruelty was not part of her father’s nature.
“There is another circumstance,” she found herself admitting. “It was not within my father’s ability to refuse the suit.” Even now, furious with Papa for gambling or borrowing that which he could not repay, and mourning that he would use her to extract himself from the obligation, she would not shame him.
Mr Darcy made no reply and they simply sat, music wafting faintly from the open doors of the ballroom while her thoughts careened wildly within her head. She did not note the time, but she thought a full set had come and gone; her posterior was numb from sitting. His hand remained upon her back, unmoving, more as though he feared she would topple over than anything else. She was nearly chilled through, even with his evening coat, and realised he must be freezing.
She sighed. “I would not have anyone question your absence. You must have been long desiring to return to the ballroom.”
With her words, she stood; he did as well. Her knees trembled as her balance wavered, but she made herself hand him back the jacket. “I thank you for your coat and your sympathy. My gratitude would be complete if you could contrive to forget this entire incident, along with my unsociable, taciturn disposition.” This time, she forced a false smile onto her face.
He did not return it.
“When is the wedding to take place?” he asked.
“I was…not in the mood to agree to set a date this afternoon,” she replied. “Just a few minutes ago, I was contemplating a trade of compliance for a long betrothal. Yet the bridegroom is not a young man, and I believe he is impatient to see it done. I do not suppose I can hold out for a year, whatever I might wish.”
Mr Darcy nodded. “Will you go back indoors now?”
She shook her head. “Neither my dress nor my face is acceptable for company any longer. I shall wait in the conservatory or another out-of-the-way spot until my parents are ready to leave.”
“Go around to the front of the house. Within ten minutes, one of Bingley’s carriages will be there to return you to Longbourn.”
“Oh, I cannot ask you to—”
“You did not ask it of me,” he replied with some urgency. “Please, allow me to perform this one small service. I shall contrive to inform your parents that you were taken home with the excuse of a headache from the overheated ballroom. If you agree, they shall be assured that the Bingleys would not hear of disrupting their enjoyment of the evening.”
Elizabeth nodded with some relief. The ball would probably continue until the small hours of the morning, and she was already exhausted; when her father learnt of the weak excuse, he might be irritated, but her mother would think it a further sign of Mr Bingley’s favour. There would be no repercussions. “It is very kind of you.”
They turned together, walking towards the brightly lit home, saying nothing. As they drew closer, she could see several people standing about the terrace; she halted before they emerged from the shadows.
“I shall slip around the side, so we are not noticed together. We would not wish for incorrect conclusions to be drawn.”
He looked at her a little oddly, she thought, but she strode swiftly away, making for the path that would, eventually, lead to the drive.
In the moonlight, she easily found her way to the front of the massive home. There were a few others on the lawns and standing about—probably most were servants awaiting their merrymaking employers. In the distance, lines of coaches were parked along the lane, some with men who must be their drivers loitering nearby. No one paid her any heed.
After several minutes, an unfamiliar, smart-looking vehicle pulled up the drive from the direction of the stables. It was not the Bingley carriage, and she approached it tentatively.
“Miss Bennet?” A liveried footman let down the steps and opened the door.
