Mr Darcy paused in the middle of shifting papers about his desk. “He said that?”
“He spoke very fondly of you, as well as your sister, Miss Georgiana. He even had some rather… warm praise for a Miss Anne de Bourgh. She sounds an intriguing lady.”
His eyes narrowed. “He told you a number of things, I see.”
Elizabeth braced herself. “Do I pass the first part of your test, sir?”
He coughed, then nodded briskly and gestured to some papers on his desk. “I have looked over your marriage license and the letter my cousin wrote to you. I recognise his hand and freely acknowledge your assertions that you have a peculiar connection to him. However, I should like to enquire about the marriage document.”
“I am certain its particulars are unfamiliar to you, but I am not mistaken, I believe, when I state that a lawful marriage is binding even in another country.”
“Of course. Am I to presume that this William Collins named as the officiant at the ceremony is one and the same as your escort?”
“He is.” Elizabeth watched the dark eyes harden and noted for the first time the little green flecks sparking from their depths. She consciously straightened herself—oh, no, she could not afford to keep looking athim.He would induce her to say too much, would weaken her own cause, and he might even discover the whole truth. She glanced down and smoothed her skirt.
“My cousin is something of a lay parson. He has undertaken all the appropriate studies and holds the necessary credentials but has neither chapel nor flock to shepherd. So, he worked for my uncle… or, rather, he made his appearance and collected his pay, until it was decided that I should have some manner of escort. I am certain my uncle has not found it a hardship to replace Billy.” She chuckled under her breath, then sobered at once when she dared to meet those studious eyes again.
“You will forgive my insistence, madam, but I would like to have some validation of his office. I shall speak with him after we have finished here.”
She nodded. Billy could speak for himself… unfortunately.
“May I ask how you met my cousin?”
She ought to have expected this question, but somehow it had caught her by surprise. Her brow furrowed as she recalled, and then she could not help a small laugh. “I was out riding, and he tried to stop my horse because he thought I had a runaway.”
“Not the most conventional way to meet someone.”
“Are there really conventional ways to meet people? It seems each is unique—or, perhaps that is only because I have not met so many people as you must have.”
His lips thinned, and those eyes almost twinkled. Was he amused, or angry?
“Am I to understand that it is difficult for a lady to meet a man of marriageable age where you come from?”
Elizabeth’s shoulders went rigid. “Sir, if your implication is that I was an opportunist, hunting a husband—”
He held up a hand. “I implied no such thing, madam. I am only trying to understand the situation. You must confess yourself that to those of us who have known the man all his life and have never before noted a desire for matrimony, this development after such a short acquaintance is… surprising.”
“No more so for you than it has been for me, I assure you.”
“Then you understand my reservations? My duty is to my cousin’s family and to his honour, so long as he is not here to defend it himself. I am only trying to discover the truth of your assertions and perhaps discern his motives for acting as you claim he has done.”
Elizabeth bristled, the last of her composure fleeing in the face of his bold-faced accusations. “Let me be perfectly clear: I admire Richard’s character and think him the finest man of my acquaintance—barring perhaps my father, who has owned my loyalties since childhood. I will not stoop to feather my story with embellishments of romantic passion or timeless love, such as can only be found in my sister’s romantic novels. I am more pragmatic than that, and you are no fool. Such a feeling would require more time to develop than we had. However, it must spring from somewhere, and where better than two characters well-matched in mind and equally disposed to felicity?”
He spoke not a word but merely steepled his fingers on his desk, waiting for her to continue.
“In no way have I ever sought to manipulate or coerce a relationship. I counted Richard a respected friend, one in whom I could confide a great deal until he offered more. And sir—” here, she leaned forward in her chair, almost prepared to stand—“I care little what your sentiments on the matter may be. Mine are this: when a woman receives an offer from the kindest, most gentlemanly man she has ever known, in such an earnest and honourable fashion, she would be a fool to reject that worthy man.”
Mr Darcy raised one dark brow and shifted back in his chair. “It was not my intention to provoke you, madam.”
“Yet, such you have done! I do not care to be accounted a liar or a fortune-hunter. Why, he even told me what his expectations are, and I did not anticipate a life of luxury as his wife. Richard and I married each of our own free will, and I had looked forward to happily spending the rest of my days with him when he returned. If he truly is…” she stopped, put her fingers to her forehead, and lowered her eyes. “Forgive me, sir. I shall not embarrass us both by weeping.”
Mr Darcy waited in silence as she drew a few short, measured breaths. Then she raised her head, dashed a genuine tear from her eye, and faced him. There was something unreadable in his expression… scepticism mixed with sympathy, perhaps?
“I do not wish to distress a lady, madam. If you prefer to retire, we may continue this conversation later.”
“No, sir, I would like to explain myself. I am not often given to displays of grief or ill humour. It is not in my constitution. Nor is it my way to attempt to win sympathy by disingenuous outbursts. If anything, I am more likely to compel my spirits to cheer that is unfelt than to forcibly cast my woe-begone self upon the sympathies of others. I truly am stricken, for I fear for Richard. I cannot stop thinking of him—what he must have suffered, the fear and pain of what he must have endured…”
“What he may presently endure.”
