“No, dearest,” she said in a rather decided tone but still with a smile on her face. “We are not going to be married like that.”
It was not at all the reaction he expected.
“You do not want to marry me?” he asked, an incredulous expression on his face.
“Of course, I want to marry you, but not like this, in haste, almost in secret, with only a small party around us. We are under the influence of this wave of gossip and opposition to our marriage. You are afraid, angry for my sake, and I am scared for our future. Please try to understand.”
But it seemed he could not. All the happiness on his face when he entered her rooms had vanished, replaced by concern and a bit of sadness.
“Come, Elizabeth, let us marry, forget these days, and depart for Pemberley. I am sure that all will be forgotten in six months or a year, and we shall have our place in London society, which nobody can take from me—from us.”
“No.” It was just a whisper, but the decision in her voice was as firm as if she had shouted it.
Darcy stood, wanting to leave, but Elizabeth blocked his way.
“Stay, please stay. This is our first dispute as a couple.”
“We are not yet a couple, my dear,” Darcy spoke with a tone she did not like.
Gently, she bade him sit once again on the chaise. She faced him, attempting to smile, but Darcy kept his gaze from her eyes, his face both annoyed and sad.
“My love,” Elizabeth said, “we also have to face these circumstances, for we shall not agree with each other every moment of our lives. But I do wish us to discuss and solve our problems as they arise.”
They were silent for some time; Darcy did not intend to speak, so Elizabeth continued. “Please try to understand my position, how scared I am. This is not my world. I do not know these people, and instead of being supported and accepted, I feel they are all against me.”
“Not all, my dear,” he said, still angry or sad but slightly more tolerant.
Elizabeth hesitated; it was evident he did not enjoy such a discussion.
They sat in silence for a time. The tension between them was lessening, but Darcy was still sad.
“I long to marry you tomorrow,” he said.
“As do I—you must believe me! But I do not want a wedding forced by circumstances, almost in fear that something might come between us again. I want the pale-yellow gown Imade from the silk I received from you; I even want my mother to be present, as well as Jane, Mary, and Kitty. Our wedding day must shine, not from the sun in the sky but from our hearts. Admit it, please: it would be a mistake to marry in haste, alone, in some unknown church as if we were hiding from everyone you know.”
Darcy carefully considered all she said, barely keeping his countenance. Her ideas made sense; still, he had wanted so much to marry her and leave London. Yes, such plans were hasty, but he felt that only their marriage would put an end to a situation that could escalate to heights she could not imagine. But perhaps Elizabeth was right; their wedding had to signify a beginning, not an end. He was still displeased with her request, but he accepted her wishes.
“I agree,” he said. “However, we shall not be married in eight weeks as planned but in two, and we shall then travel to Pemberley immediately—just the two of us.”
Elizabeth tried to remain calm; two weeks was a very short period, but she obviously had to accept his terms; yet, she tried to resist and gain at least one more week.
“But we cannot marry in two weeks: the last announcement of the banns is in two weeks.”
Darcy saw the acceptance on her face, and his humour instantly changed. After all, their discussion was exciting because there was no winner or loser but delicious compromises on both sides—an elegant battle with a satisfactory truce for both.
“Do not worry, my dear,” he said, “tomorrow we can get our licence. We can marry at once or in a week.”
“Two weeks, like you said!” Elizabeth spoke with a slight smile on her face.
“Two weeks.” Darcy agreed to end their first dispute, smiling as he had one more proof he had finally found a preciouswoman who deeply loved him but, at the same time, had her own will—a willthat would be imposed on him and accepted by him at moments of their married life.
There were still problems from the past to be resolved between them, and Darcy wanted to discuss them as soon as possible, allowing nothing to cloud their love.
“Now, Elizabeth, just ask the question you want to ask. Let us solve all our problems tonight.”
Stunned by his words, Elizabeth looked at him with curious eyes. “It seems you know me much better than I know you,” she said.
“Yes, my dear, so it seems.” Once again, he adopted a witty tone. However, he had to admit that, deep inside, he was still hurt, mostly because she needed all that time to marry him and did not feel the same urge to become his wife as he felt to become her husband. He sensed something was broken between them. After the intimate moments they shared in Hertfordshire, he expected her to commit to the wedding, regardless of when it occurred.
