“Impossible?” Elizabeth repeated.
“Very likely.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam’s humor faded into a frown. “And if Prinny took offense, that could become its own disaster. Hismoods are mercurial, and a gift from the Crown is not a trinket to be tossed back into the market the moment it becomes inconvenient.”
Elizabeth sank slowly into the nearest chair.
The small flame of purpose that had carried her into the room guttered at once. She had thought, for one brief foolish moment, that she might do something. That she might take the strange, impossible fortune given to her through grief and mud and Roman gold and turn it into Georgiana’s safety. Instead, the very protections meant to secure her had tied her hands.
“It appears I will not be of use after all,” she said miserably.
Before she realized it, Darcy was kneeling on the floor in front of her chair, heedless of Mr. Philips and Colonel Fitzwilliam. He reached up and cupped her cheek with his palm, gently tipping back her head until her eyes met his.
“Do not say that,” he said.
Her throat tightened. “But I cannot help.”
“You would have given away your family’s safety for a girl you met only days ago.”
“She is your sister.”
“And you already love her as one.” His voice roughened. “Do you understand what that means to me? What you mean to me? I have spent years fearing that everyone I loved must be protected at a cost, that affection and duty would always demand more than I had to give. And here you sit, grieving because the law may prevent you from sacrificing an estate and ten thousand pounds to keep Georgiana safe.”
Elizabeth’s eyes filled.
“You are extraordinary,” Darcy said softly. “Selfless to the point of terrifying me, but extraordinary. And if I did not already love you with everything in me, I would have fallen in love with you in this moment.”
The tears slipped before she could stop them. “I would do anything to keep her safe.”
“I know.”
“No. You do not understand.” Elizabeth swallowed, because the next words hurt, but she had to say them. Her tone was formal. “Mr. Darcy, I release you from our engagement, so you can marry a wealthier woman.”
His expression changed.
“If there is no other way to save your sister,” she continued quickly, before courage failed, “if Wickham must be paid and Pemberley cannot bear it, then I will let you go. I will not force you to choose between your sister and me.”
“No.”
The word was quiet, but it seemed to fill the room.
“Mr. Darcy—” she said, hating herself for the pleading in her voice.
“No,” he said again, with more force. “You are not forcing me to choose. Wickham is attempting to. He will not succeed.”
“But Georgiana—”
“Will not marry him.”
“And her dowry—”
“Will not be surrendered to him if there is any lawful way to prevent it.”
“And you?”
His gaze held hers. “I will be marrying you.”
Elizabeth’s breath caught.
