Page 16 of The Mistress of All & Torn

“Miss Bennet, I will not be so ridiculous as to claim I have fallen deeply in love with you in only a week. Nor do I expect you to love me already—or to undertake all the duties required from a wife. It would be an arranged marriage between two friends, two reasonable people. I dare say our appreciation is mutual. We seem to feel comfortable together, my mother is slowly growing closer to you and she is partial to your family too. All the circumstances are in our favour...”

“Nothing is in our favour, sir. And, as grateful as I am for your help, I do not feel we are even friends yet, as our acquaintance is too new and too shallow. We are completely oblivious to each other’s inclinations and we might soon discover they are completely opposite. I am afraid such a union would not be reasonable at all. It might appear an arrangement advantageous for both of us at present, but we should consider the future more thoroughly.”

She spoke with no emotion; the coldness in her voice on such a significant matter startled her. She recollected the day when Mr. Darcy had proposed to her at the parsonage, their heated argument, their emotions—so strong, so overwhelming—and struggled to shake off the painful memories.

Lord Barrington’s proposal, however, was neither pompous nor ridiculous—as Mr. Collins’s had been—nor offensive to her or her family—like Mr. Darcy’s. His frankness she took as proof of his respect for her, and Elizabeth was not indifferent to it.

“Your reluctance honours you, Miss Bennet. And offers me further evidence of your excellent character. Most women in your position would have accepted my proposal in a heartbeat, not because of my worthiness but because of its convenience. I cannot argue with your scepticism. Our relationship is too short even for a friendship, as you mentioned. But to me, as little as I have had the pleasure of knowing you, I believe we have laid enough ground to anticipate the future confidently. More time or a longer engagement would be preferable but for both of us the matter is urgent. I confess I am determined to allow my aunt to leave this world peacefully. I intend to marry and for her to accept my wife while she still has some strength left. I wish to grant her the opportunity to pass her legacy onto the woman who will carry on her hard work. There are so many requirements in my uncle and aunt’s will, that only a woman of integrity might fulfil them. For my aunt, the notion that her work might be lost forever is grievous and the relief of seeing her worries eradicated might prolong her life. It is my duty to do this for her as soon as possible. Before it is too late.”

The earl’s words sounded emotional and heartfelt; his attempt at persuasion, induced by his apparent affection for his aunt, touched Elizabeth. Suddenly, she felt a selfish and thoughtless spoiled girl, arguing with a generous and kind man who had shown nothing but consideration for his family—and hers.

“Lord Barrington, I am not certain what to say; I am grateful that you wish to help me, and honoured that you believe me capable of taking on so many responsibilities. However, everything is so hasty, so abrupt...”

“Fate seems to have its own will. Lady Sedgewick’s health is very poor. I would like to give her at least this comfort: to know I have taken her words to heart, that I am willing to honour her legacy and that I have found someone who can be trusted to carry on her charities, to follow in her footsteps in caring for others and sharing her fortune with those in need!”

“This is commendable, sir!”

“As for your part, please rest assured that you will be offered a generous settlement. You will inherit expensive jewels, and will benefit from a significant sum as pin money, according to your title.”

“Lord Barrington, I do not intend to sound ungrateful, but these are not reasons that would induce my acceptance. Jewels have no use where there is no respect or affection between husband and wife.”

“I agree, but I hope this will not be our situation. Affection will surely grow in time. I shall not force you to comply with your duties as a wife until you are prepared. I do hope for an heir in the future, with God’s will. But there is no haste.”

He paused to see the effect of his promise and she blushed, averting her eyes.

“Also, your family will be granted a monthly income similar to their present one, and in case of your father's demise, your mother and sisters will be offered a house similar to their current one, with all expenses paid. There will be no reduction in their living arrangements. Besides, I do not wish to sound presumptuous, but from the position of Lady Barrington, you will be able to introduce your sisters to a different society, increasing their chances of making good marriages.”

His words touched Elizabeth again. They were cold, but sound, wise and reasonable. She found no fault in his statements.

Elizabeth remembered Mr. Collins’s profession of love and his assurance about the strength of his feelings; for a brief moment, a little smile broke through her sorrow and timidly appeared on her lips. Then, the recollection of Darcy’s proposal pushed her back into the hole of darkness and grief, although it was not the time for such musings. That day at the parsonage, her response to Darcy had likely influenced her entire life—and Jane’s—forever.

She did not regret her refusal. She believed Darcy’s claim of ardent love to be a momentary fancy that would soon be overcome by other feelings. Even if her opinion or feelings towards him were favourable, he was the man who had ruined Jane’s happiness. She could never forgive or forget that. She had justified her reasons to despise him and thrown his proposal back in his face. But those reasons—most of them—had proven to be wrong, based on her prejudice and resentment for his apparently arrogant manners and selfishness. Her error of judgement she did regret.

And there she was—facing another proposal—the third. One in which nobody spoke of feelings. In front of her was a man whose character she could not sketch, as she had no evidence, nor sufficient accounts for an accurate drawing. But then again—should she trust her own reasoning in understanding men? Could she even dare assume that—under the present circumstances—she had a choice? Since a third proposal—from a man with a situation in life far above her own—should be considered an extraordinary and almost unbelievable happenstance, was there more than a single answer?

Would a third refusal be anything else but selfish, disrespectful neglect of her family, a condemning of her mother and sisters to poverty and misery?

“Miss Bennet, I do not expect an immediate answer. Please consider my words thoroughly. Search for advice within your family and I will return tomorrow. If you refuse my offer, I will be silenced on this subject forever. If you agree, I may obtain a special licence and we can be married in five days. The sooner you become my wife, the sooner your family will be sheltered and Lady Sedgewick will have her desired closure. It all depends on you.”

An hour later, the Gardiners returned. Elizabeth remained in a tumult that she had never experienced before, not even in Kent. She had been given the power of deciding her family’s future. She was torn between a sense of panic and one of relief. She could be the means of their salvation or of their fall. With a sister ill, her father dying, her uncle struggling with his business affairs, her aunt at the edge of her sanity and her mother and other sisters oblivious to the tragedy but condemned to be part of it, everything depended on her. Just as Lord Barrington had stated.

Surrounded by an emotional storm, she had no other path towards tranquillity except for the narrow one offered by Lord Barrington. She could not see the end of it, nor estimate how difficult the journey would be, but she was compelled to follow it.

∞∞∞

The next morning, after brief visits to her father and sister, Elizabeth confessed her struggle to her aunt and uncle.

“I have news to share with you...It concerns us all and I dearly need your advice.” A pounding headache was making her nauseous and she could barely keep her eyes open from exhaustion and turmoil.

The Gardiners watched her closely and were worried. She had not left the house in the last few days and they were puzzled by what news she could possibly mean.

“Lord Barrington offered his support for our family, to help us overcome these difficult times. He asked for my hand in marriage.”

“What???” Mr. Gardiner shouted.

“I was as shocked as you are, but such a happenstance would save our family and secure all our futures.”

The Gardiners stared at her, dumbfounded, shaking their heads in disapproval.