“I do listen to you, butyoudo not speak sense.”
“Isolation? That is your excuse?Youkept your sister locked alone because you hated company and parties. That isyourfailing.”
Darcy clenched his teeth together. Elizabeth was right. He failed his sister in that way, and he ought not resent Elizabeth for reminding him so explicitly. Yet, a little, he did resent her for it. He had told her he felt that way in confidence, and she had comforted him, and told him he had done the best he could for Georgiana.
The color drained from Elizabeth’s face. She looked down and opened her mouth several times. “Forgive me I—"
“The thought had crossed my mind,” Darcy spoke loudly, ignoring her words, “that you might be motivated by a concern for your uncle, rather than a concern for my sister. The hopes for expansion he possesses — you must have thought that Georgiana’s fortune would help him greatly.”
“You accusemeof base motives? Whenyoujudge a man solely by his position in society?” Elizabeth’s face turned red. “Do you not wonder about my own agreement to marry you? Perhaps I solely accepted for your fortune?”
“I do not expect your affection to be entirely disinterested. I know you care for me deeply — have youneverthought with pleasure on my estate and what you might buy with the pin money that will be settled upon you? You like money as much as every other girl. No lies, Elizabeth. You think it would be a good thing for your uncle’s partner to marry a woman with Georgiana’s fortune.”
“You. You.” Elizabeth growled, standing up and throwing the chair she’d been seated in backwards. It tipped over to clatter against the floor. Elizabeth said icily, “To think of the presence of money as a good, is entirely different from being driven by base motives. I aminsulted.”
“Then what motive for supporting the match between a man of no consequence in trade and mysister.”
“You great, vain, carelessgentleman. You so choose that all connected to you shall be well connected themselves.”
“I do. My pride demands a better match for mysister. My pride ought to beyourpride as well. You will be a Darcy too. What motive, base or foolish, drives you to argue for diminution ofourhouse?”
“Her happiness — Georgiana and I talked about her fond memories of Peake several weeks ago. She has not forgotten him, despite being apart for many years.”
“I must hold an even worse opinion of Peake, if he made love to her at her most vulnerable time those years ago.”
“That isabsurd. They talked.”
“He should have neverspokentomy sisterwith such a thought in his head. He should never have permitted himself to feel anything. Especially then. A servant. I feel a creeping disgust beneath my skin at the simple thought of such a man and my sister. It is more polluting than Wickham.”
“Andthisis what you think of me and my family.”
“Enough. No more. My decision is made. On any other topic, I would respect and wish to hear your opinion. But Georgiana has always been in my charge, and the sacred duty was entrusted to me by our father to watch over her and ensure her happiness.”
“No more? You say no more? I am not allowed to speak anymore? You silence me.”
“You would silence yourself if you felt as youought.”
Elizabeth stood and paced the room. She chopped her hands through the air rapidly, speaking in a clipped angry tone. “Herchoice. A right to disapprove — you havethat. But who. Who she marries is. Her choice. Her life. Her choice.Hers. Delay, but not deny. A substantial delay. That is wise, as they have not seen each other for years. But to prevent—”
“I have spoken. Elizabeth. Nothing further. Speak nothing further towards me upon this matter.”
She furiously turned towards him. Her eyes flashed. The fabric of her dress swooshed around her legs and hips. There was a flash of lightning in the far distance as a storm approached, the light made the red in Elizabeth’s cheeks stand out vividly. Rolling thunder sounded, pounding through the bare fields of Hertfordshire like the cannonade from a Man of War.
“You cannot end this matter. You cannot stop me. I will speak. I will be heard. You cannot end Georgiana’s hope for happiness. It isherlife.”
“Mychoice. My right. It is my right, and it ought be my right. I will not never, ever —- I will never let her marry someone so distant below her, myself andyouonce you have married me. Georgiana deserves better. She deserves the best.”
“Lord! Such a fool.”
“I am not a fool.”
“I. Me. I am the fool!” Elizabeth threw her hands up in the air and paced. She refused to meet his eye. Every line of her person was tense and radiated unhappiness.
A nervous squealing feeling entered him. It was in his stomach. His chest felt like it was being squeezed, and his throat was caught by a vase. Something was dreadfully amiss. He could not read Elizabeth. She was angry. A voice in his soul said he needed to do something to mend matters. She was a proud woman, independent, and fiercely committed to her ideals.
He would not be moved in such a matter. She needed to understand that in their marriage, he would be the final maker of decision.
The storm hit the estate. It fell down, pouring rain in a heavy pattering on the roof, and the wind drove splatters against the window, making it impossible to see outside, except when lightning strikes illuminated the whole grey sky.
