“Please, Billy, you mustn’t—”
“And I suppose we could rent a room at the hotel until I have a parsonage of some sort. Old Catherine’s cottage is up for rent, but I suppose I might not be able to—”
“Billy!”
He paused and looked at her. “Yes, my dearest?”
She winced. “Please don’t call me that!”
“But is it not the conventional manner of a betrothed couple? I assure you, our marriage will bring the very greatest of happiness to us both. I have never yet spoken to you of my reasons for marrying, but I have always understood I should marry someday. It is expected of any ordained minister, for we shall set the example of matrimony in the county, and you, my dearest, shall run the charity school. We shall be the most blessed of all—”
“We are cousins! Or had you forgotten?”
A look of deep thought passed over his face. “Why, yes, that is true, but once removed. I believe we are still within the bounds of the law and common decency.”
“No. Absolutely not, Billy. I appreciate the thought, but marriage is for life. We would never suit.”
“But what if they come after you, Lizzy? You heard the sheriff. We should be married before that happens, so no one can doubt your character.”
“I’m not going to marry you, Billy! Not tomorrow, not ever.”
Billy’s lip quivered, and his dewy brown eyes grew large. “Do you mean you’d rather go to jail than put up with me? I never thought you despised methatmuch.”
Elizabeth blew out an aggrieved sigh. “It has nothing to do with you, Billy. I appreciate what you are trying to do—really, I do. But I am not in any real danger other than the affliction of my own conscience. For that, I shall suffer my penance the rest of my life, but I have no intention of acting rashly. Truly, if I married you now, everyone would see it for an admission of wrongdoing. I would be twice condemned in public opinion, for everyone knows that nothing but desperation would provoke me to it.”
His brow furrowed in hurt. “You don’t have to rub it in.”
“Oh, Billy!” She leaned forward and patted his cheek affectionately. “I shall always think on you with gratitude, for I know that I would never be your first choice of a wife. You need someone like Jane—sweet and kind and content with the prospect of life as a preacher’s wife.”
“Or Mary,” he mused. “I suppose you’re right, Lizzy. We would fight like brother and sister.” His lips pinched in thought, then—“Do you suppose Jane would really…?”
“No! Oh, Billy, go on back to the warehouse. You cannot do anything for me, really, but I appreciate the thought.”
He stood, brushing the dirt from his trousers and then fumbling to retrieve his hat. “Well… you’ll let me know if you need to change your mind, won’t you?”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes, then shook her head with a fond smile. “Of course.”
Matlock
November 1900
DarcyandGeorgiana’sproposedthree days at Matlock passed in a vexing delirium of tedium and glory. Curse his frame, but he could not help exulting in Elizabeth’s nearness at each meal, each gathering. Even with Anne in the very same room, his body hummed and throbbed to draw closer to Elizabeth. What a wretched man was he! And what sort of a husband was he to make? He could not even remain constant through their engagement!
Some would count him innocent. He had committed no physical acts of betrayal—his body was one thing he could control. He could lock himself in his room, bar the door and keep his fist closed against any overtures ofmore. But his mind was ever open, ever reaching and thirsting for a taste of sweet nectar, and that was the bottle in which he could put no stopper.
It was with a heavy heart that he walked to his carriage—Anne on his arm, Georgiana just before him and Elizabeth… Elizabeth was standing back in the hall, her hands locked firmly at her sides, and her dark eyes hooded with something she would not express, even to him.
She had to sense it. She had to know how his very being ached when she was near, how he let his touch linger, how he came alive when she spoke to him. And so, she had begun to shut him out, but was it because she did not return his admiration, or was it something nobler? More faithful than himself, she was!
Still, he granted himself the luxury of one last look over his shoulder at her, and the answering quiver in her chin when she gazed back and mouthed “Goodbye,” told him everything he needed to know.
He needed to get out of Derbyshire.
“Georgiana,” he asked after the carriage started, “what do you say to altering our plans for Christmas?”
She looked at him as if he had just announced he meant to sell Pemberley. “Whatever for? I have no specific wish to go to London. You do not even like London.”
“I think it would be good for us,” he replied. “Change of scenery, change of company. You have not been to London in nearly a year, and you cannot say you do not miss the Serpentine at Christmas, or Hyde Park when it snows.”
