One Thread Pulled: The Dance With Mr. Darcy (72 page)

“What was it?”

“It is a shawl. A beautiful shawl.”

“The red one?” Darcy smiled.

Elizabeth nodded.

“What makes you think it was an error?”

“It is not mine,” Elizabeth replied. “The rest of the articles in the trunk were all mine, and I saw the shawl in a drawer in your room, so I believe the staff mistakenly thought it belonged to me.”

“Did you look through my bureau?”

“I did.” Elizabeth could not suppress a slight grin.

“The shawl should be yours,” Darcy answered. “I would like to see it on you.”

“Mr. Darcy!” Elizabeth gasped. “It is too fine! Such a costly gift would be a scandal!”

“Did you try it on?”

Elizabeth colored and looked away.

“I bought it for Georgiana,” Darcy said, “but realized that the only woman of my acquaintance who could ever wear it was you. So I returned to the widow and bought the blue one for my sister.”

Elizabeth's eyes widened, and her color deepened.

“I could wait no longer for you to have it.”

The cruel words of Caroline Bingley, hinting that Elizabeth was wanton, echoed in her mind, and she knew that accepting the shawl would begin the destruction that would ruin her reputation forever. “It is a beautiful garment, Mr. Darcy, but you must realize that it is impossible for me to accept it.”

“Impossible?” Darcy shook his head, not comprehending.

“Yes, impossible! Surely you know this! What are you to me? You are the friend of my sister's intended. I cannot accept a gift of such magnitude from a man so wholly unconnected to me. To do so would disgrace us all!” Elizabeth said bitterly. “It is cruel, indeed, to toy with my feelings in such a way.”

“Unconnected?” Darcy repeated as he stood. “Elizabeth, I can think of no two people more connected than I desire us to be!”

The poisonous words spoken by Caroline had taken root, and in pain, she flung them at Darcy. “You want me in your bed, sir? Is that what you say?”

“Well ... yes,” Darcy replied, confused.

“I will not be a mistress! I will die an old maid before I would do such a thing!” Elizabeth cried and jumped up from the settee, to quit the room before tears fell.

She did not go two steps before she felt a hand around her wrist that stopped her progress.

“Unhand me, sir.” She whispered, her eyes closing to release the tears that would no longer be denied.

“I beg you to hear me.” Darcy said as he relaxed his grip.

“No. The answer is no.” She turned to face him.

“I must beg you to reconsider your answer.” Darcy said solemnly. “Perhaps it would serve us both if I were allowed to pose my question before you make such a hasty response.”

Elizabeth shifted her eyes in a gesture Darcy recognized as begrudging agreement.

It took him a few moments of changing expressions and attempts at a beginning before he finally spoke. “In vain I have struggled,” he began, “but it will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

Elizabeth arched a brow but remained silent.

“I pray that you will forgive me my initial reluctance in pressing my suit with you. There were—obstacles—to my acting on these feelings, obstacles that now I see were no obstacles at all, but foolish prejudices that prevented my making any serious design on you at the start.”

“Are you soon to arrive at your question?” Elizabeth asked, slightly annoyed at his beginning. “I cannot answer a question that is not asked.”

“Patience.” Darcy replied. “I intend to ask this question but once in my lifetime, and I should like to get it right.”

Elizabeth's eyelashes fluttered at this response, and she calmly seated herself once more on the settee, although the fluttering of her heart could be detected as a vein on her neck pulsed.

He stared for a long moment at her, thinking through the many things he had rehearsed to say, but instead, he spoke to the primary misunderstanding he knew of. “I would not have you be my mistress, except in the capacity of mistress of Pemberley, which is the natural role for my wife! I love you passionately, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, and you may take your time in answering my question, if time is what you need, but you will have your question now.” He drew a deep breath and returned to his chair—although he sat forward on the seat as far as he could, nearly closing the gap between them. He took her hand in his, and when she resisted, he raised it to his lips and kissed the back of it before he released it. “Elizabeth, I beg you to relieve my suffering and ease my torment. Please, will you do me the honor of accepting my suit for your hand in marriage?”

Elizabeth stared at him in astonishment, her lips parted as if to speak, but no words escaped them.

“Have you nothing to say?” Mr. Darcy finally broke the silence. “Am I to expect an answer?”

“Mr. Darcy, you cannot be serious!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “I am well aware that your family will have imposed expectations on you to choose your wife and the mother of your heir from among those who are at the very least your equal in society. The daughters of the nobility are at your feet, sir, and my father is but a country squire.”

“You are gentle born, are you not?” Darcy inquired with a calmness he did not feel.

“I am.” Elizabeth nodded.

“Do you love me?” Darcy pressed his suit.

“That is not fair, Mr. Darcy—you know that I do! I have always desired a marriage for love, but now that I am faced with the possibility, I see that there is more to consider. I would not have you disappointed and injured when your family and all of society turns against you for marrying a country maiden of small fortune and low connections. I could not bear the heartache it would cause you!”

“Did I not tell you that I had obstacles to overcome? These objections are nothing to me, I assure you. I had never thought that a marriage for love would be possible in my case, but I know now that nothing less can be acceptable. When we are married, your fortune and your connections will be unrivaled! The misfortunes you cite may be heavy to some, but, I assure you, my thoughts on future marital felicity with you have vanquished any doubts I may have harbored early in our acquaintance. I am resolved to devote my life to your happiness, even at the peril of my own.”

“You are very eloquent, Mr. Darcy, but I believe that I must invoke your offer of time, that I may think more on your offer. I am not prepared to agree to this at present. I am not myself.” Elizabeth muttered as the tears returned.

Darcy withdrew Elizabeth's handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it into her palm. “Let your tears stain this, my darling, and I shall pray that someday they shall be tears of joy when we are wed.”

To this Elizabeth could not reply. Instead, she took the handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes in a vain attempt to stem the tide of emotion that flooded unbidden through them.

Darcy was anguished that he had been the cause of her tears, and soon expressed the act which he least desired to do. “I fear that my presence is not a comfort to you, Miss Bennet. I will leave you now.”

Chapter Fifty-Two

Say Yes

D
arcy did not go two steps before he felt a slight pressure on his arm. He stopped, and Elizabeth withdrew her hand. “Please.” Elizabeth whispered. “Please do not leave me.”

“You wish me to stay?” Darcy turned and their eyes met, his hopeful, hers wide and glistening. She looked down as she granted him a barely perceptible nod. He returned to the chair across from her, relieved by her plea but at a loss for its interpretation.

His return calmed Elizabeth, and a steady composure settled onto her as she dried her eyes. “There, you see, I am well. I do not know what came over me,” she assured him with a weak smile, although her skin was pale and her lip presented a tremor that caught Darcy's attention.

“Indeed, you are not well. Is there nothing I may do for your present relief? Some wine perhaps?”

“No, thank you.” Elizabeth shook her head. “Spirits will not resolve my dilemma.”

“Dilemma?” Darcy asked.

“Your proposal, Mr. Darcy. Surely you are aware of the dilemma it presents,” Elizabeth said wearily.

Darcy shook his head and replied frankly, “I presumed that any hindrances to our match were on my side alone. Pray enlighten me as to the source of the perceived conflict on yours.”

“You told me once that it had been the study of a lifetime to avoid foolishness, and that you do not suffer fools easily.” Elizabeth said, “You will be considered by all of society to be a fool if you take a wife of such low station as I. I cannot allow myself to undermine that which has been the study of a lifetime.”

“It is true, until that day, this was my course.” Darcy acknowledged. “On that occasion, as I recall, you painted yourself the fool and counseled that I not give you a second thought—which advice I did not take. I believe I have thought of nothing but you from that day forward. My studies of late have indeed broken with patterns established for a lifetime, much to my improvement.”

“I would not have you change for my sake, Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth said, blushing.

“Nonetheless, I am an altered man,” Darcy replied. “I have changed not for your sake, however, but for my own. How else am I to win your affections than to shed those distressing imperfections in my character?”

Elizabeth, having recollected their conversation at Netherfield, pursed her lips with a degree of amusement and replied, “Mr. Darcy, if you succeed in exalting yourself to perfection, you leave nothing ridiculous for me to laugh at.”

“Then tell me what I must do to be acceptable to you,” Darcy replied. “I would crawl on the floor and let you scratch my ears if you would bestow an ounce of the same affection on me that you have to my dog.”

Elizabeth laughed at the image this painted in her mind, and she replied with some gaiety, “That would be ridiculous, indeed. Would you lick my face as well?”

Her joking inquiry had quite the opposite effect on Mr. Darcy than what she had expected, for his countenance changed suddenly, and he became, to her eye, very serious.

“Elizabeth, you are too generous to trifle with me. If these reservations you harbor cannot be overcome, please tell me at once. One word from you will silence me on the subject forever.”

“I beg you to keep your own counsel,” Elizabeth said archly. “You admonished me to be patient but a moment ago. Have you forgotten so soon that you promised me time to consider your proposal? It has been less than five minutes, sir.”

“I did not expect you to hesitate.” Darcy replied honestly, his disappointment that she had, evident in his looks.

“How could I do otherwise?” Elizabeth replied gently. “Our alliance will be seen as an abomination by your family, indeed by anyone who believes in the preservation of rank, Mr. Darcy, and despite my tender feelings for you, I must consider that the duration of our acquaintance has not been long. How am I to truly know your character in so short a time? What do you know of me that assures you of mine?”

“You are no doubt aware of my reserve in company.” Darcy said. “I have not the talent to converse easily with strangers. This does, I admit, create a measure of difficulty in the avenues of social intercourse. However it also frees me to observe others most carefully. I formed a high opinion of you very early in our acquaintance. I know all that I need to know—my regard for you is fixed. I will gladly address any doubts you may have of my character if I could but know what they are.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “The problem lies not in doubt of your character, but rather that your character seems too good to be true.”

“Were you not of the belief that I would have you as a mistress?” Darcy softly questioned. “Is this not evidence of doubt in my noble character?”

Elizabeth colored deeply. “Do not repeat what I said! It is truly evidence of doubt, but not in you—not exactly. Miss Bingley said that....”

“Miss Bingley? Do not give credence to anything that woman may have said!” Darcy said with a wave of his arm. “Her intentions could only have been malicious! Is that what this is about, then? Were it not for Bingley, I would have never met her, and now I wish I never had! The only woman I have ever cared for—will ever care for—is you! What must I do to settle this in your mind, Elizabeth? I adore you! I worship you! All that I have or ever may have is yours. You have reduced me to this; I am but a beggar at your feet. Let the world concern itself with our differences, but we must never speak of them again. We both know that you never threw yourself at me, but the other way around! Show me some mercy, I entreat you, and agree to be my wife!”