“I see. I understand. A pearl plucked from the muck might just be a shiny bit of muck before it is tested.”
“I ought to have never used that metaphor, I apologize.”
“No. No, we both are honest people.” Elizabeth’s voice was tinny. “It is a good metaphor.”
“No. No it is not. A pearl from the muck. That is an awful analogy. Your family is bad, but not nearlythatbad. Though you are my pearl.”
“But as we are both honest persons, let us be clear: My aunt and uncle inCheapsideare part of the muck from which you have plucked me, and since I must be washed from the muckyou— not your aunt and uncle — butyouwish to have nothing to do with them.”
“I would desire to be polite, but not to—”
“Not to have them to dine at your august mansion.”
“Elizabeth.”
“A moment.” She closed her eyes. She drew in long deep breaths.
He took her hand again. “You know that I act in accordance with my best judgement? And you are in my heart. Always in my heart, and in my thoughts — I always think of you.”
She let out another long breath and nodded. “Yes, I know.” She smiled weakly at him. “I am in your heart, and you do always think of you and — oh, I do deeply admire and love you. Fitzwilliam, you are in my heart. But…”
She sighed, and then looked him in the eyes. “I understand the excellent man, and the excellent intentions that truly make you who you are.”
“Can you then see the justice of my request? I wish to show as much respect as I can to the feelings of my uncle and aunt. They are family, and family is everything.”
Elizabeth smiled at him, but with a fixed expression and bared teeth that let him know he had annoyed her further with his speech — and just when he thought they had settled this argument. But then she laid her hand on his knee and said, “You are to be my husband, and it is the wife’s place to obey and serve.”
“That does not sound like you.”
“That is what you wish.” She held her chin high, her eyes were harder than he remembered them ever being.
“No it is not. I wish you to be—”
“Fitzwilliam, might we entirely cease discussion upon this subject.”
Darcy opened and closed his mouth. He truly hated abandoning a subject of dispute when the matter was not yet settled to the satisfaction of both parties, and at least when there was no certainty that it was impossible for the two arguing people to truly understand the other’s point of view.
But Elizabeth was right.
It was time to let the discussion go.
After all he had won, and he would always be gracious to Elizabeth in such situations.
Chapter Eighteen
Darcy went to London, without Elizabeth following him and going to stay with her aunt and uncle, and he accomplished his business in only a few days, and returned by Thursday. And Elizabeth was happy to see him.
The time passed, and the date of the wedding neared. And then it was…
Two days!
She was to be his wife! In just two days!
He gloried with pride at the clearness of her skin, the brightness of her eyes, the lovely oval of her face, the way her coral lips looked before he kissed them, and above all that the intelligence and wit in everything she said, and the kindness in all that she did. Everything gave Darcy a feeling of… giddiness. He felt giddy. Like a schoolboy home for summer. Like a puppy rolling with his littermates. Like he was flying, swooping high above the skies as a falcon.
Two days!
Yet… he knew her mood had been downcast the last two times they’d met, and he loved her, and he wished to settle every nerve she had, and remove every little block to her happiness. Most likely it was the annoyance from her mother’s loud blathering.
