Darcy's Trial (28 page)

Elizabeth giggled. ‘But you have not heard the latest reports. Sir Arthur has found God and is daily repenting his sins. We may hope that before long his character will be reformed.’

‘I still prefer my solution.’ He leaned forward to take her hand. ‘But we will leave Sir Arthur in the hands of his maker, for there are more important matters to settle. Elizabeth, will you marry me?’

He spoke with confident ease, as if certain of his reception, but his face fell as she answered slowly: ‘I would like to, and yet—I cannot. It would not be fair to you.’

He stared at her. ‘What do you mean?’

She moved closer and touched his arm. ‘Let us be calm. I want to talk about this seriously.’

He began to protest, but caught himself, and after a deep breath replied: ‘I am listening.’

‘There are two obstacles. The first is basic, and in my view has been the main cause of our frequent quarrels. I am not prepared to play the role conventionally assigned to a gentleman’s wife. In marrying you, I fear I will gain companionship only at the price of freedom. You will regard yourself as responsible for me, as you are responsible now for Georgiana. You will see it as your right, even your duty, to protect me and take decisions on my behalf.’ She turned to meet his eye. ‘Can you deny it?’

He sighed. ‘If you are asking whether I am concerned for your welfare, I confess you are right.’

‘Reflect on your behaviour in the months before the trial. Time and again you have intervened in my life, either directly or acting through my uncle, with the aim of protecting my safety or my reputation.’

‘And were my fears groundless?’ he returned. ‘Look at what happened!’

Elizabeth coloured. ‘I would remind you, sir, that in all probability you owe your life to my rash display of independence. Look at what happened when you refused to apologise to Sir Osborne Kaye! Each of us took decisions that might have proved fatal. No-one can say for sure whether we were right or wrong; that is not the issue. What matters is whether we are free to choose our own destiny. Why should you enjoy this freedom while I may not?’

‘As mistress of Pemberley, you will not be powerless. I will be more than happy for you to make up your rooms as you wish, and to choose your own servants. You will enjoy a substantial allowance for purchasing your clothes and jewellery.’

Elizabeth smiled sadly. ‘You are more than kind. How can I explain this to you?’ She paused a few seconds. ‘This may shock you, but it is not to be helped. I ask for no part of Pemberley. If you choose to feed and house me I am grateful, but Pemberley is yours and should remain so. You may control Pemberley, its neighbourhood, and the whole county of Derbyshire for all I care. What you may not control is
this
.’ She reversed both her hands to point to her own body. ‘This part of the universe is not yours. It belongs to me. I will decide what happens to it. I will decide where it goes, and what it says, and what it is allowed to do. Not you, nor my father, nor my uncle, nor the Prime Minister. Me. Elizabeth Bennet. Are you following, sir, or is my meaning still unclear?’

There was a long silence, but she saw by his thoughtful expression that he
had
understood; indeed at times he seemed to suppress a chuckle, as if he found her tirade funny, but was afraid of offending her.

Eventually he said: ‘And if you express a desire to do something foolhardy, what should I do?’

‘Give your opinion, as you would to any gentleman friend, then leave me free to decide.’

A thought seemed to strike him, and he regarded her more sternly. ‘And what of deceit, Elizabeth? Am I hallucinating, or was there not an occasion on which you tricked me into doing your will by withholding information?’

Elizabeth blushed. ‘It upset you deeply, I think, to be deprived of control in this way.’

‘Indeed it did.’

‘It was wrong of me.’ She met his eye directly. ‘But at least the experience might help you to understand what it feels like.’

He recoiled, and again she saw the point had struck home. He smiled suddenly, and replied: ‘And if I renounce command, do you renounce deceit?’

‘Gladly!’

‘It will be difficult to break a habit of assuming responsibility.’ He regarded her seriously. ‘But I will try, Elizabeth. I understand what you are asking, and I promise I will try.’

‘You had better succeed as well as try, sir, otherwise I shall run away.’

‘Then I will try very hard.’ He spread his arms. ‘Are we in agreement now? Is the impediment removed?’

‘I believe so. However, you will recall there was a second issue.’ Elizabeth’s voice quivered, and she turned away, struggling to keep her composure.

‘Must we speak of it now?’ he asked kindly.

‘I fear we must.’ She faced him again, with her voice under better control. ‘I apologise in advance, for what I have to say will embarrass you as well as me. But we have to face reality, and the reality is that it would be unfair for me to accept a proposal of marriage from you, or indeed from any other man. Let me explain.’

‘Mr Darcy, I understand your very proper objectives in taking a wife. You will wish us to have children, so as to procure an heir for Pemberley. As a man with normal appetites you will hope to enjoy the, ah, physical side of marriage, and as a man who is also kind and considerate, you will wish your wife to receive these attentions willingly and with delight. I cannot in all honesty promise to satisfy these requirements. Frankly, the prospect terrifies me.’

She held up a hand as he tried to interrupt. ‘I know what you are going to say. Obviously my first experience of intimacy with the opposite sex was discouraging to say the least. But if I am honest, I have
always
feared the physical side of marriage, this unknown quantity whereof we are not supposed to speak or even think.
Your husband will guide you
is my mother's only counsel: but what use is that, when the die will already be cast? For years I have pushed these fears to the recesses of my mind, but after Arthur Kaye's visit to my cell, they returned centre stage, for his intentions were entirely plain.

‘In addition to this, we have to consider your own reactions. Imagine how it will feel to be intimate with me, in the knowledge that I have been dishonoured by another man—and such a man! When you kiss me, will you not feel acutely the awareness that
you were not the first
? Will your love not be tinged with disgust?’

Again he considered this, rather than replying immediately. ‘Obviously I would have preferred us to marry under different circumstances. But no, I don’t believe my feelings for you will be affected.’ He opened his palms with a sigh. ‘In any case, much as I hope for an heir, my desire for your companionship is paramount. If for any reason we cannot enjoy normal marital relations, I will still consider myself fortunate to have you as my wife.’

Elizabeth coloured, moved by this declaration. ‘The good fortune would be all mine, sir. But still, I cannot in fairness do this to you. If only there was some way of being sure.’ She looked into the distance, frowning in concentration. Suddenly struck by a solution, she began to giggle. Aware that he was observing her closely, she tried her best to suppress this outburst of frivolity, worthy of Lydia or Kitty, but without success.

‘What is so amusing?’ he smiled indulgently.

‘A very shocking idea,’ she said, still giggling. ‘I hardly dare tell you.’

‘Try me.’

‘You will pronounce me a wanton and never speak to me again.’

‘I’m waiting, Elizabeth.’

She looked around to ensure they were alone, before whispering: ‘We could make a trial in secret,
before
we are engaged to be married.’

He frowned. ‘You mean, perform as man and wife …’

‘Exactly. Then we will know for sure. Either I will like it, or I will not. Either you will be revolted by thoughts of my earlier disgrace, or you will not. If we both pass the test with flying colours, we can proceed in confidence to the altar. If not, we can part as friends and in time you will marry someone else.’ She gave him a teasing glance. ‘I believe such assignments are not considered so prohibitive for a
gentleman
.’

He regarded her with an expression midway between amusement and embarrassment. ‘But even if such a course can be contemplated, how can it be arranged?’

‘As a man of the world I leave that to your imagination, sir. I believe private assignments are often engineered between a gentleman and his
chère amie
. A discrete closed carriage, a secluded remote inn—you will know how it is to be done.’

He shook with laughter, humour finally triumphing over confusion. ‘We are surely mad, Elizabeth, to be considering this at all.’

‘Nevertheless, those are my terms. Try as you might, you will never persuade me to proceed with an engagement in fear that I cannot perform satisfactorily as a wife.’

Scarcely a day had passed since Jane’s wedding when the neighbourhood was abuzz with more gossip about the Bennets: the second daughter, Lizzy, had unexpectedly been invited to spend Christmas at Pemberley. According to Mrs Bennet, the main source of this information, the invitation could have only one interpretation: Mr Darcy was besotted with Elizabeth and their engagement was imminent.

The invitation came in fact from Georgiana, on the evening of the wedding, and Elizabeth went directly to her parents to obtain their consent. Mr Bennet had some doubts, preferring that the scandal surrounding Darcy should have more time to die down first. However, he was overruled by Mrs Bennet, who was adamant that the opportunity should not be lost. Scandal indeed—what did that matter when set against an income of £10,000 a year? As usual in these disagreements it was Mr Bennet who gave way, desirous as ever of a quiet life; so it was that on the very next day Elizabeth joined Georgiana, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Darcy on their northward journey.

They set off at first light, breakfasting on the road, and soon after midday joined the route that Elizabeth had taken with the Beaumonts to Coleorton. Not wishing to push his horses too hard, Darcy had planned for frequent rests, his objective being to reach the village of Lower Harlestone, west of Northampton, by dusk. There several rooms had been reserved at the Fox and Hounds Inn, and Elizabeth was easily accommodated by sharing with Georgiana. By supper time the temperature was falling fast and there was talk of snow.

Next morning, Georgiana descended with the news that Elizabeth was suffering from nausea and headache, perhaps through something she had eaten, and did not feel fit to travel. After a hurried discussion, Darcy decided that Georgiana and Colonel Fitzwilliam should proceed with the servants to Pemberley immediately, so as to minimise the risk of being delayed by snowfall. He, Darcy, would stay behind to attend to Elizabeth, and when she was feeling better they would follow in a post-chaise hired from the innkeeper.

After dozing during the afternoon, Elizabeth awoke to find a light dusting of snow on the passing fields.

She smiled at Darcy, sitting opposite in a typically grave pose. ‘Where are we?’

‘Past Hinkley. We should reach Market Bosworth soon.’

‘Ye Old Red Lion Inn. How did you choose it?’

‘I made discrete enquiries at the Fox and Hounds. It should be a pleasant spot, but out of the way. Certainly I have never stopped there before, so we will not be recognised.’ He drew a small package from his greatcoat pocket. ‘Will you do me the honour of wearing this ring? It was my mother’s.’

Elizabeth took the lovely silver band, fashioned in unobtrusive good taste, and slid it easily on to her finger. ‘You embarrass me, since I have no right to wear such a precious ornament. Still, I suppose we must act the part.’

‘Indeed we must, and I suggest also that we agree on a fictitious name, if you can think of one.’

‘Why not borrow from Lady Catherine? Mr and Mrs De Bourgh? She would be so gratified to have been of use.’

‘William and Elizabeth?’

‘Certainly, although I was planning to call you
dearest
.’

He shook his head, as if in helplessness. ‘Are we both mad?’

‘Probably. Still, I am quite looking forward to being Mrs De Bourgh during the evening. It is what follows that terrifies me.’

They had been shown to the best room, furnished in dark wood with a chandelier, thick carpet, and wide fireplace. A wood fire had already been lit, and in an annex stood a dressing table and a copper bath. A supper of cold mutton with pickles, bread, and wine had been ordered, for them to eat in their room. At the window, by moonlight, Elizabeth watched the snowflakes, now falling heavily, and covering the landscape as softly as the thick blankets on the bed. Swallowing, she drew the curtains, and joined Darcy at the table.

‘Shall we dine first?’ He was obviously trying to appear at ease, but a constriction in his throat revealed his nervousness. Observing this gave Elizabeth heart: at least they were on a par.

‘I would like to eat a little now, but save the rest for later.’ She dealt him a conspiratorial smile. ‘A glass of wine would go down very well.’

He poured, uncharacteristically knocking bottle against glass and spilling a few drops on to the table. Without comment, Elizabeth dabbed up the wine with her napkin before clinking glasses.

‘To madness!’ She drank half a glass, to the accompaniment of splashing noises from the annex; a moment later a servant tapped at the door to announce that the bath was ready.

‘Will you go first?’ Darcy asked.

Elizabeth folded a slice of mutton in a hunk of bread, and ate it slowly, resisting the impulse to hurry. They had the whole night, after all. Lowering herself into the tepid bathwater, she was reminded of the long soak that she had taken when sharing with Helena. This time she wished only to ensure that she was clean and fragrant, so a quick dip would suffice, allowing Darcy to take his turn while the water retained some warmth.

In her nightdress Elizabeth kneeled on the bed, as from the annex there came sounds of vigorous towelling. The door creaked and Darcy entered, elegantly attired in a navy stripe flannel nightgown over loose linen trousers. For a moment she felt overawed, hoping that her high-necked cotton night dress would not seem immodest, since she had neglected to bring a wrapper. Darcy hesitated, and as if seeking a distraction, turned to add another log to the fire. Finally he sat on the bed, and they eyed one another warily like two animals placed together in a cage.