They smiled at each other. She took his hand again and kissed it.
“Have you any other conditions?”
She did not look away from his hand, but she smiled again. “No, no. I am happy to accept your offer of marriage.”
Darcy oddly felt a deep glow of satisfaction to settle deep inside when she said that.
He had not thought that he would be so happy to marry for duty.
He had robbed Elizabeth of her husband, he had robbed George and Emily of their father, and he had failed in his promise to care for Mr. Wickham. Duty thus required he marry her.
That was how he had explained to himself and Elizabeth his impulsive request for her hand.
He was not marrying for love. He was not marrying a diamond of the first water. He was not marrying for connections and family wealth.
Heshouldbe unhappy.
He would gain nothing from the marriage except for the disdain of his fellows, the suspicions of the world, substantial additional expenses, and the right to take care of Elizabeth and see to her happiness.
That last consideration was ample reason for him to feel happy.
Colonel Fitzwilliam spoke to him that night after the others had gone to sleep. “Still feeling much better, the wound?”
“I think it will always hurt a little, but yes.”
“Zeus! Hit in the chest—right next to the heart. And you’ll be perfectly healthy at the end of it. No consequences of note. Nothing to mourn.”
“Richard.”
The officer grinned widely. “Cousin.” He then slapped a hand on his knee. “Darcy, old boy, dear fellow, all that. And you are to be married. And after that woman insisted—”
“She is not a fortune hunter. How can you think such a thing when you have known her for three weeks?”
“Did I say I thought that she was?”
Darcy glared at him.
“I merely mean to say that you rather are defensive of her.” Colonel Fitzwilliam added, with a smile, “Always have been.”
“She deserves care. I wish to make it clear that I will not permit any of you to treat her with anything but the greatest respect.”
“Darcy,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said seriously, “I have a great deal of respect for Mrs. Wickham, and I will respect her even more once she is Mrs. Darcy. I do not think you have made a bad decision, and I will say as much to my father—she is an unusual woman, an exceptional one. Ah, if onlyIwere at liberty to marry where I please…”
That notion, imagining Elizabeth marrying anyone else, even Richard, even as a joke made Darcy feel sick. It would be wrong. He must thank the almighty that it would be his right and duty to be the one to make her happy. “I hardly think…she deserves better than the life of a soldier’s wife.”
“You think, in fact, that she deserves exactly the life that only you can provide for her. One might imagine that you admire her,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said, while smiling. “I imagine there will be rumors that you killed Wickham, not for your sister’s sake, but because of how much you loved his wife. Quite a scandal.”
“I would have died if Mrs. Wickham had not arrived and changed my bandage that afternoon.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam tapped his fingers rapidly on his knee. “And you are going to marry her for gratitude?”
“I marry her because it is my duty.”
“Hmmmm.”
“If you do not speak sense, I shall simply go to sleep.”
“Well, you have a duty to marry well, you know. That is what you always said. And now you shall not. Do you feel like, well, is it not a terrible burden to have to marry Mrs. Wickham?”
