“Why would you say that?”
“You are ill-equipped to be any woman’s husband!” I raged. “Either of you.”
“Well, Darcy, that is your opinion,” he said. “What is to become of my sister else? I don’t see you offering any other solutions.”
I could not meet his gaze.
I knew what he was implying.
But I could not do it.
It was one thing to marry her if she was some country miss who was perfectly respectable, but to marry a woman who had been ruined by Wickham of all people—even if I knew she had not been—the appearance of it, it would bring shame down on my family. I could not do that.
I had responsibilities to other people besides myself.
I could not pursue my own pleasure.
The colonel was bright as a spring day, having slept the whole way back in the carriage, and he stayed up and talked to me as I raged to him for a long time about how I absolutely could not marry Elizabeth Bennet.
I could not marry her before, and this situation had not made it any easier to marry her, only worse.
Richard was sanguine about it. “You can marry anyone you like, Will. You can marry her if you wish.”
“I cannot,” I said. “You do not understand anything.”
“What are the consequences to you?” he said. “No one will say a thing to your face about whatever your choice is.”
“Oh, they will,” I said, glaring at him. “You would lead the charge, had you not been here. You would have spent all your time needling me, asking if she was with child, asking if I could be sure that the child was mine, saying that—”
“I’m not that awful,” said the colonel.
“You’re worse,” I said. “And when I complain, then it just another chance for you to needle me about my lack of manhood, my snailhood, in fact.”
“Oh, come now. You are too sensitive by half.”
“And here we are,” I muttered.
“Well, even so, it doesn’t matter,” he said. “You’ll tell everyone you are positive, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she is pure, and that if they say another word against your wife, you will not take it lightly. And if they continue, challenge them, and name me as your second, and they will back down—”
“Dueling?” I said. “Dueling is your solution?”
“You are a snail,” he said, nodding, shrugging.
“Dueling is illegal, and besides—”
“You don’t actually duel,” said Richard. “You have no idea how this works, do you? You issue the challenge, and then they back off.”
“Maybe with you they would,” I muttered. “I’m not quite sure anyone is much frightened of me in that way.”
He looked me over. “Well, anyway, as all that goes, if you want her, and you do know she is pure, I don’t see that it matters. If you can’t handle men teasing you, if that stops you, then you really are a snail.”
I shook my head. “No, it’s not about the consequences to me, really, Richard. You see, this is what you don’t understand. You’re so glib, with your bit about how awful it is to be a second son, how difficult it is for you, not getting the same inheritance as your brother, but what you don’t see is everything that comes along with that inheritance. You see the advantages but not all the responsibilities.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I am talking about all of the people who rely on me to maintain a certain reputation and a certain appearance. If Ibehave in a careless way, it affects everyone. It affects Georgiana, your parents, you—”
“You are overstating—”
