“Yes, but every other thing that is sin is about hurting other people,” she said. “And this doesn’t hurt anyone.”
“Not every other thing,” I said. “Because there is also the fact that carnal relations between men and women is meant to be done only within marriage.”
“Yes, something that no man on earth except you follows,” she said.
“That is not true.”
“Well, I am not saying I want it different, Fitzwilliam,” she said. “Because being your one and only, it has been the most affecting of things to me, and I am ever so grateful for it. I would not have a husband—I could not imagine being married to anyone except you. I love you and I love that neither of us has ever been in anyone else’s bed.”
“Well,” I said, “you have kissed Mr. Wickham, and that can never be taken back.”
She tilted her head to look at me. “Am I the only woman you’ve ever kissed?”
I huffed. “The point I am trying to make, Mrs. Darcy, is that if you had never been exposed to all of this rush of iniquity by your brother, you would never have done any of that in the first place. Your brother’s influence made you take up with Mr. Wickham. You have owned it yourself, saying you were jealous of his lifestyle.”
“That is not what I was jealous of, Mr. Darcy!” she snapped. “I was jealous of the way that someone wanted James, jealous of being desired in that way. But Mr. Wickham did not want me. He wanted to use me for his own pleasure. And I thought that you… but now I wonder if all that you want is to have someone who fits some perfect mold, and anyone who falls the least bit short must be chastised!”
“I am not so exacting,” I protested.
“Oh, it is all I hear of you,” she said. “Your sister says to me that you once told her that your good opinion once lost is lost forever, and that she knows that she has lost it already, and that you will never accept her back into your household again, that she must be shipped off here and there because you cannot bear to look at her.”
I struggled to sit up in the bed, leaning against the headboard. I could not quite make heads or tails of what she had just said. “That is not even remotely true.”
“And since we have been married, you have made it quite plain that you wish me to be quiet, demure, and proper. Even if I speak too loudly at the theater, you must scold me!”
“I did not mean to scold you,” I said. “I suppose that I should not have… other people were looking at us and I felt embarrassed, and I suppose I could have borne it, but I—”
“I do not even know why you married me,” she said. “You want someone entirely unlike me.”
I shook my head. “I do not. I want you. I want you exactly as you are, and I have noticed… you are different… I suppose it is my fault. I have dimmed your sunbeam myself.” I felt that like someone had struck me.
“What are you talking about?” she said.
I shook my head. “I suppose you want me to go.”
She let out a breath, looking me over. “That’s it, then? You are just going to leave in the middle of all of this?”
“What else would you have me do? I suppose I can apologize. I shall endeavor to do better in the future, also, but you do know that simply because I tell you to be quiet, it doesn’t mean that you have to obey me.”
She gaped at me. “You wish me to vex you, that is what you are saying?”
“No,” I said. “No, but when I said that I liked that you were fearless, I meant it.”
There was a long, long silence.
Finally, she tossed her head, and the expression on her face went rather playful. “Well, I am very, very angry with you, husband.”
I swallowed, unsure of what to do with that, with her playful expression, with the way she was telling me she was angry.
“I want you to leave,” she said, and as she said this, she was crawling up the bed towards me. “I very much do. I want you to get up and walk out of that door and to think about whatyou have done.” She swung a leg over my body, straddling me, and she was bare and sitting against me as I sat against the headboard and my mouth went entirely dry. “I do not even want to look at you, husband,” she said. “I suppose I must close my eyes.” She did so and kissed me.
At any rate, erm, I stayed.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I emerged from my wife’s bedroom the following morning, feeling rather chagrined at the looks of the servants who watched me go through the hallways to my own bedchamber. Luckily, Lady Susannah had not positioned us very far apart.
I ducked into my room and my valet dressed me, and I went down for breakfast.
