She had never thought about what her wedding day might be like, but if she had pictured anything, it would not have been like this. It was strange to think that it was only five days ago that she had met her husband-to-be. And in those five days, there had been little time available for her to come to terms with the turn her life had taken. Her mother and father had been shocked when Mr Darcy had walked her home, explained the situation to them, and promptly asked for her hand. Mr Bennet had taken him into the study, and after what felt like hours, finally emerged with the settlements complete and the date of the wedding fixed. His face had been grim and set, but Mrs Bennet had cried tears of joy, eager to celebrate a daughter’s marriage regardless of the circumstances.
Elizabeth merely felt numb. This could not really be happening, surely. She could not really be engaged to marry a stranger, and in all haste at that. It felt like a bad dream.
Yet Elizabeth knew she must be grateful for the marriage, horrifying as the idea was. Had Mr Darcy not taken responsibility for their accident, she would be ruined now, and all her sisters with her. After having been seen under such shocking circumstances, however innocent they were in truth, rumours were already going rampant. Mr Bennet had thought it best not to wait even for the banns to be read. Mr Darcy had agreed, and had laid out the funds for a common licence, so that they need not wait. And now would come their wedding, less than a week after Elizabeth had come upon a lost stranger and agreed to guide him out of the woods.
Elizabeth sighed softly. She looked over at her sister, still fast asleep. Grey light shone behind the window coverings. Elizabeth got out of bed quietly, attempting not to disturb Jane. She dressed quickly in her simplest gown and made her way downstairs. Wrapping a heavy shawl around her shoulders, Elizabeth turned her steps towards one of her favourite of the country paths that led past Longbourn.
These walks had offered her so much solace over the years. When her mother was more than unusually unreasonable, the house more than unusually noisy, or the future felt more than unusually precarious, the peace and quiet of the countryside had always been there for her. Now Elizabeth wondered if she would ever visit them again. Once she was married, she would be wholly at the mercy of her husband. And while Mr Darcy had acted most honourably in the matter of their compromise, she had no idea what his character really was. Was he truly a man she could respect, who would treat her kindly? Or would he show another side once she was no longer under the protection of her father’s roof?
Today would be the end of all the dreams she had fostered for her future. So much for the romantic dream of marrying for love, of accepting a man only once she felt the fullest confidence that they could add to each other’s happiness in life. Elizabeth would be forced to marry a man she did not love, a man she did not even know. It put her rather in mind of the plight of a heroine in a Gothic novel. Once, the idea of being trapped with a handsome stranger in a mysterious house full of secrets to discover had seemed rather romantic. Now it was anything but. She was terrified rather than looking forward to the prospect of a new adventure.
She walked for a little while longer, knowing it was likely the last time she would explore these woods. Her habit of wandering all over the countryside had put her into this impossible situation — and put an end to her peaceful walks forever.
When Elizabeth arrived back home, her father was waiting for her in his study. “Come in here a moment, Lizzy,” Mr Bennet said with unaccustomed gentleness. She went in to her father, holding back the tears that had been threatening to fall all morning. She sniffed loudly and sat down across from her father in one of the faded, plush reading chairs.
“How are you this morning?” he asked. He offered her a cup of tea. Elizabeth declined it with a gesture. She could not imagine eating or drinking anything.
“I am about as well as I could be in my situation.”
“I know this has been a difficult week for you. But I believe it is for the best. Mr Darcy might just as easily have left town and expected you to deal with your lost reputation on your own. And then what would have become of your sisters?”
“We would all be ruined,” Elizabeth said steadily.
Mr Bennet nodded sadly. “Not that I think anything untoward happened. I believe you, my Lizzy. But the village is already convinced of your guilt. You understand.”
“Of course, I understand. We have to do what is best for my sisters. I would never want to do anything to jeopardise their chances.”
“Well, then, as you are resigned to your fate, I wonder if you would like to hear about the settlements that Mr Darcy and I have arranged?”
“No, thank you, Papa. I am sure you have done the best you can for me,” Elizabeth said. “And — to own the truth, I cannot bear to think of it now. This will be difficult enough to endure. I cannot bring myself to enter into the discussion of how good a bargain I was at market. Or perhaps I ought to say, how poor of one.”
Her father shrugged. “Very well. I will only say that Mr Darcy was reasonable and quite generous. He made no complaints about your small dowry,” Mr Bennet added.
She gave a bitter laugh. “Yes, how very generous. I am glad to think well of the man I am about to marry.”
Her father’s eyes filled with tears, but he did his best to keep them from falling to his cheeks. “It pains me that we must be parted in such a way, Lizzy. I had never thought to give you in marriage like this. While I knew, of course, that I must one day be parted from a much-beloved daughter, I had imagined that your husband would be a man whose character and fitness for you had been proved beyond a doubt. However, we must make the best of the situation. It could be much worse.”
“I know.” If she did not marry, she and her sisters would suffer. Even Mr Darcy’s reputation would be sullied, given the accident that had caused them to be caught in such a compromising position — though a man could afford to ignore such gossip much better than a woman. There was nothing to be done. “I realise how important this is. And I am grateful that Mr Darcy has agreed to marry me.”
Her father’s tears would not remain hidden. They began to drip onto his cheeks and roll down his face. At this, Elizabeth could no longer hold her emotions in check. She let out a choked sob and knelt before her father, resting her head in his lap. He stroked her hair as they both cried. How was she to leave him? To leave her family and everything she had ever known, to be the wife of a man she did not know? The injustice of it all overwhelmed her.
After several moments, she lifted her head, and her father wiped her tears. She gave a short, bitter laugh. “Now, no more of this. The sun has already risen, and I must get ready for the wedding.”
Elizabeth stood in front of the mirror as her sisters and mother helped her prepare for the wedding. There were no wedding clothes. There had not been time to have anything new made. She would wear the best gown that she owned, a dark green day dress that complemented her complexion.
“It is not right!” her mother wailed, horror-stricken that the wedding would go forward before new gowns could be ordered. “It is not right, I say. What kind of man allows his bride to come to him without the proper attire?”
Jane cast a pleading glance at Elizabeth through the looking-glass. “It is not as serious as all that, Mama. Certainly, itis better that they are married as soon as possible, to avoid any scandal.”
“Yes, I agree. I hardly see how waiting for wedding clothes matters in comparison to everything else that has happened,” Elizabeth sighed. She winced to hear how much of her feelings had escaped into the words, for her voice had sounded downtrodden and sullen even to her own ears. She hardly noticed when the maid finished arranging her hair in a simple bun at the nape of her neck and stepped back to gain her approval.
Jane nudged her, and Elizabeth nodded after a moment to study her reflection. It was not as she had pictured, but it would have to do. She had always hoped to marry someone she loved and respected. And although Mr Darcy seemed respectable, she did not even know him well enough to like him, let alone love him.
And liking would be difficult enough to find, let alone love. Surely he must resent her for this unwanted marriage. Elizabeth knew she resented him, even while reminding herself that gratitude ought to play the greater part in her emotions.
With luck, and with gratitude, they might come to a mutual understanding as the years dragged on. Surely it was not entirely impossible. She hoped at least that they might end their lives together as friends, if nothing more.
It seemed only the merest chance, and yet it was little enough to hope for. The whole of her life seemed to mock her, yawning ahead of her like a great chasm that had no end. She was trapped, and unlike the novels she had read, there was no prince or white knight coming to save her.
