“Mrs Gardiner. I have been overdue in telling her of our happiness. She was taken with you, and not simply because she cannot think ill of a man from Derbyshire,” she added in an attempt at levity. “I should also write to Mrs Collins, but it would not do for my letter to arrive before yours to Lady Catherine. I fear she will be made angry to learn that you will not marry your cousin. Shall you ever have the courage to tell her what is to befall her?”
“I am more likely to want time than courage, Elizabeth. I have been pleasantly engaged as of late. But it ought to be done, and if you will give me a sheet of paper, it shall be done directly.”
“And if I had not a letter to write myself, I might sit by you and admire the evenness of your writing, as Miss Bingley once did.”
Fitzwilliam asked her to send his greetings to Mrs Gardiner and to tell her that he would call while conducting his business in town.
“How delighted she will be to receive such a letter,” he said as he began his own. “How can you contrive to write so even?” he asked a moment later.
She knew what he was doing and tried not to laugh. He did not appear disapproving, but perhaps that was only because they were not alone.
“Do you need me to mend your pen?” he asked. “I mend pens exceedingly well.”
“Only if you rewrite your letter to Lady Catherine to include my compliments and questions about how she gets on.”
“I think not.”
Mary grew tired of their talk and gathered her books and papers, then left in search of a quieter place in which to complete her studies.
As Elizabeth felt nervous about being alone with him to face his reproach of her behaviour, he brought up the subject of Mr Bingley and Jane. “I feel Bingley will soon propose as long as my friend remains confident of her regard.”
“I do not think there is much more Jane can do to encourage Mr Bingley.” Elizabeth coloured as she thought what he would say about whatshehad encouraged last night.
“As we rode here today, I assured him that Jane still admired him despite his departure last autumn. I told him that everyone expected him to offer to her, and he would soon find himself entangled and must regard himself as bound to her.”
She gaped at him. “You sound as if you do not believe he loves her.”
“I do not know the strength of his feelings now, but had Bingley loved Jane enough to marry her last autumn, neither his sisters nor I could have compelled him to leave.”
“He thinks highly of you.” She spoke without malice. “He looks to you for guidance, and you, lamentably, caused him to doubt her preference for him.”
“Part of me fears he may not love Jane as well as she deserves.”
Elizabeth was shocked, and as she could only doubt and stare, Fitzwilliam continued. “I do not doubt Jane’s worthiness, but I wonder whether Bingley, decent as he is, loves her enough.”
“You do not think he will propose to her after all that has happened?”
“No, he may even be doing so at this moment.” He took her hand, the first time he had touched her since the prior evening. “But if I were him, Elizabeth, there is nothing my friend or sister could say to keep me from you. Neither your impertinent remarks, nor your injudicious opinions on my character, and not even your reluctance to speak openly with me would keep me away.”
Was it possible he had not lost all respect for her after last night?She squeezed his hand and held his gaze.
“I have another subject that I would discuss with you,” he said. “I leave for town in two days to retrieve the marriage articles. Your father is ignoring my repeated attempts to move things forward, and so there is something I need to ask you: Would you feel slighted if I did not accept your marriage portion and left it to be divided amongst your sisters?”
This was not what she thought he wished to speak of. He must have thought her surprised silence meant she was dismayed because he quickly continued. “I do not wish to appear arrogant in that we do not need your portion. I simply thought it would be better suited to improving the eligibility of Mary, Kitty, and Lydia. It would also allow me to present the settlement contract to your father for his signature with the least amount of discussion on his part.”
“He might be determined to be displeased with whatever you settle on me and argue with you for his own entertainment.” Her father still made known his unhappiness at their engagement at every opportunity. Nothing she did or said could end her father’s misguided contempt of them both.
“He has already said that he could not argue with my ability to provide for you. Once he sees the marriage settlement, he will know that as fact.”
This piqued her curiosity. “What will you settle on me?”
“Twenty thousand pounds on you, and for our daughters, so that you might maintain the manner of living to which you will be accustomed.” Fitzwilliam looked a little embarrassed. “I would like to have settled more on you and our future children.”
Elizabeth understood what he tried not to say. “You were expected to marry a woman with a fortune. By marrying me instead of Miss de Bourgh, you sacrifice thousands of pounds as well as a second son’s inheritance of Rosings.” She thought of them as equals, and although that might strictly be correct, she was suddenly aware of his greater consequence.
“It is no sacrifice, Elizabeth,” he insisted. “I choose to spend my life with you because it is entirely in your power—and no one else’s—to make me happy.”
Elizabeth would have thrown herself into his lap and kissed him had she not thought back to last night and the correct behaviour an unmarried lady ought to demonstrate. She kept her affection in its proper bounds and said only an earnest, “I love you.”
