Page 56 of Her Affections and Wishes

Hopefully, Mr Bennet wrote to Elizabeth as well. Darcy went through the servants’ corridor again to enter Elizabeth’s dressing room without anyone seeing him. At his knock, he heard Elizabeth unlock it but move away. He opened the door himself and entered, and was not at all surprised that his welcome was less warm than yesterday.

“Was there something else you wanted to demand or announce?” she asked.

She did not speak with anger as he had seen the night he proposed. She spoke with no energy at all. “You are cross as two sticks with me,” he said, closing the door behind him. “I came to see if I was still betrothed.”

“Oh, you are, but given your announcement in the library, I have little choice.”

It was as he expected, but her displeasure still stung. “You are angry I did not discuss with you announcing our engagement and that we are leaving in the morning.”

“I told you I wanted to wait.” She sighed wearily. “I had not even heard from my father by that time.”

“Did you think he would not approve? His letter to me made it clear your preference was what mattered to him the most.”

“That is not the point.” She sat heavily on the bed.

“I could not have your good name bandied about,” he said, judging by her manner that he was allowed to sit next to her.

“Did it not occur to you that it would happen anyway? That Julia would accost and insult me regardless?”

He had been more concerned with physical attempts than verbal ones. “I want you safe from further attempts to harm you. And we must leave in the morning. Julia might become dangerously irrational now that she knows for certain she has lost me.”

Elizabeth scowled. “‘Attempts to harm me’? Do you still think the vase and the carriage were deliberate?” She was absolutely incredulous. “Darcy, they were nothing! And today was a stupid trick, but in the end it only harmed Julia, not me.”

“And is that not enough of a reason?” he retorted. “She and Mr Travers locked you up for hours, and we can do nothing about it because we have no proof. I had to play billiards and talk with the man with a straight face. Of course we are leaving. There is not a single person here I can respect, save for an eighteen-year-old boy who is at least trying to act rightly.”

“I suppose it is for the best that I leave after what was implied about me.” She blew out a breath; she looked exhausted. “I was to be sent away to keep all the men safe from me, and the women safe from my influence. But no one thought to send you away. I daresay Sir John would applaud you for whatever he thinks you did behind the door.”

Darcy dared to run his fingertips over the back of her hand. She did not pull away, but she did not hold his hand either. “It is the very hard fate of your sex that when you fall, you are never permitted to rise again.”

“It is a hard fate that we fall but men rise for participating in the same act.”

What could he say to that? The world was dreadfully unfair. “Do you not want to leave tomorrow, as though you have done something wrong? I wanted to keep your person and your good name safe. I could not let you be sent away in shame because of Julia’s cruel trick.”

“You left us no choice,” she muttered.

The strain of the day wore on his temper. “Are you truly going to stay angry with me over this? I am trying to keep you from harm!”

She fell back onto the bed with another weary sigh. “I will not argue with you or withdraw from you or stay angry with you. Can I not simply disagree with how you handled this, be frustrated with how everybody behaved toward me, and go to sleep? Do not lose heart; I am cross with everyone right now. Julia Metcalfe called me a whore, and now I know what it takes for me to prefer Miss Bingley’s company.”

Indignation over how she had been treated rose up in his chest, but he could not indulge in it now. Comforting Elizabeth as best he could, if she would allow it, mattered more. “You did not deserve that, and I am sorry for giving you no choice about how and when I announced our engagement.”

She was still flat on her back, staring at the bed hangings, but she clasped his hand, restoring some calm to his heart. “Is this to be a regular occurrence? How arrogant and domineering will you be as a husband?”

“I cannot see it being any worse than it is now,” he said, lifting her hand to kiss it, “but I am more concerned about whether I am going to become a husband than with how I will act as one.” He was not entirely free from fear or doubt, however small it was. The newness of his happiness with Elizabeth made it feel fragile.

She smiled tiredly. “I did not want to announce our engagement and leave as though I did something wrong. But that does not mean I am not marrying you. It means I am going to bed and my thoughts of you will not be romantic. It means I will think you needlessly suspicious and overbearing. It means I will loathe Julia Metcalfe and her mother, and I never want to hear about vases or jib-doors ever again.”

He pulled Elizabeth up to sitting. “And what must your overbearing future husband do to earn your forgiveness?”

“Leave me alone tonight. I am far too surly to talk with anyone. I will find you in the morning when I am ready to act like the happy bride-to-be.”

Her answer disappointed him, and it must have shown on his face, though he tried to hide it.

“Oh, by the time we leave for Hertfordshire, I will have forgiven you.” She kissed his cheek. “But I am exhausted and I ache from falling off a carriage, and I have been yelled at and insulted by two women, and I do not want to talk to anyone right now, not even my favourite person.”

“That is perfectly fair, but I must tell you I feel as though I have come out of this quarrel better than I deserve.”

“I am sure there will be worse ones. Wait until I am not so worn down by a jealous woman and her spiteful mother. I will argue more heatedly next time.”