How did she say that while she was not ready to offer herself, she was at least considering it and she loathed the idea of him seeking comfort elsewhere?
“It is a rather…delicate topic, and I am not even sure that I want to hear the answer. I do not know how to begin.” He continued to look at her, as if he intended to stand there until she spoke. “Please, ask me no further.”
“I will not press you, but given our strange relationship, do you not think it best for us to be honest with one another? And, if you remember, I had a rather explicit discussion with you about Wickham’s proclivities. Whatever you are considering, it cannot be more distressing than that.”
It was markedly similar. But he wanted her to be candid, and if she could not tell him about meeting his sister and her plan to restore Georgiana to him, then she ought to be as honest as she could.
“Well, it occurs to me that, that while I am…not ready to yield to you…you must be…”
His eyes widened in understanding. “Do you think I would force you?” he asked, shock and anger mingling in his voice.
“No,” she cried. That had never occurred to her. “I…I only…” She covered her face with her hands and blurted, “I do not want you to turn to former paramours or prostitutes like Wickham does. Not that I assume you will, but how can I ask you to forsake others when I do not offer myself?”
She would stand here with her hands covering her eyes until she burst into flames or Darcy left the room. One or both was sure to happen any moment. She heard him exhale slowly, but she was not about to look at him.
“You could divorce me if I was unfaithful, remember?” he said. “We wed in Scotland, and there women are on equal terms with men as far as suing for divorce in cases of adultery. But I already promised to forsake all others, as did you,” she heard him say with a sigh. “I hadto endure your father’s implication that we would not be faithful, but I did not expect it fromyou. Do you suppose me to be a dishonourable man whose words have no value?”
“No,” she whispered. “Not at all.” Since they united against her father’s offer to bring her to Longbourn, since they had chosen to stay together, she felt more hope for their future than ever before. “But it is unrealistic to suppose that you will be patient forever.”
“It is unrealistic to suppose we will wait forever. Curiosity, or loneliness, or a desire for children, or…”
Elizabeth dropped her hands when he stopped, wondering what he might have said. Darcy was watching her intently, but she could not name what, if anything, he could have added to that list.
Would something like love have a place in her marriage with Darcy? Was it possible for love to come after their strange and hurried beginning? She searched his eyes, but no matter what she might feel for him, it would mean nothing if Darcy was not open to loving her.
His expression grew serious, and he said, “You are not ready, and I am opposed to going to bed with anyone who is not enthusiastic about being there.”
“And in the meantime?” she whispered. “I would not sue you for divorce. I, I want to stay married. Besides, the shame would be…” Aside from her growing affection for Darcy, it would be impossible to return from the public punishment of a divorce. “Besides, I would need proof, and if anyone learnt the truth, they would not blame you for looking elsewhere.”
“I do not engage with prostitutes,” he said firmly. “Too many of them begin as innocent victims of seduction by libertines and bawds. And I am not risking my health or yours for an evening’s gratification.”
She dropped her eyes, ashamed. “I am sorry for voicing my insecurities. I should never have asked the question.”
She turned away when he added quietly, “I am not returning to old lovers, either. Any such widow is very much in the past.”
He deserved her assurances too. “I will be faithful as well, no matter what my father might have implied.”
“I never doubted it.”
The words should have made her feel better, but she felt all the awkwardness of the topic and Darcy’s distress at having his honour challenged.
“I suppose it is best that we wait so no child has the chance to arrive early,” she said, trying to bring levity to her embarrassment. “That would only add to the rumours that you were forced to marry the poor, unconnected woman.”
“Although that would perpetuate the myth that we married from utter passion,” he said, walking away.
He was being flippant, but could they ever feel that passion for one another? She watched him cross the room, admiring his shoulders in the tight cut of his coat and the way he leant across the table and stretched his arm to pick up a sheaf of papers. She could imagine those arms encircling her. The act itself was harder to imagine, but a gentle embrace felt possible.
A pleasurable shiver went over her at the thought of Darcy’s arms around her.
“I said, may I show you these?”
Darcy must have repeated himself, and she hurried to his side by the table.
“I have it all arranged with the lawyers. These are only drafts, but it will be finished tomorrow. Your father was…” A disapproving muscle twitched in his jaw. “Not concerned with the details, but perhaps you would like to be assured that the ‘all my worldly goods I thee endow’ part of my vows will also be upheld?”
The stack he handed her was what Darcy would settle on her and their children, and his new will. “Why do you not summarise it for me?” she said, noting the amount of the papers.
“You have a life tenancy to this house in town after my death, and five thousand pounds settled on you alone, to go thereafter to any younger children as you see fit. Although, presumably, your oldest child will allow you to stay on at Pemberley if you do not prefer town.”
