Page 47 of A Prudent Engagement

“I shall not say anything until you have informed me what you wish me to speak about.”

“Mr. Darcy deserves better. He deserves the truth, and he deserves to marry a woman who wished to marry him—I cannot believe that you would do this.”

“I do not dislike him,” Elizabeth said. “That is long past.”

“Do not dislike him!” Jane exclaimed. “That is no basis for marriage. Be honest, Elizabeth, would you even think of marrying him if Papa were still alive?”

Elizabeth was silent.

She did not answer because she did not know—at present, with her feelings and knowledge of his character what they were, she would have certainly considered marrying Mr. Darcy in such a case, but she had no confidence about what she would have decided.

But that was the chief point: if she had felt safe in material terms, she could have demanded more of him, made him make an accounting of himself, asked him to promise to treat her and her family with full respect, and she would have asked him for more time to come to know him better, and to know her own feelings better.

And, oddly, when she imagined this, she imagined that if he had willingly agreed to those terms, that she would then have happily entered into an engagement with him after a period of a month or so.

Perhaps that was the answer to Jane’s question. That she would have married him if his character had proved to be what she hoped it was when put to the test of a requested delay.

“Elizabeth, I cannot believe that you have acted in such a way. This is contrary to everything I thought I knew about you.”

“And I had not expected you to judge me so.”

“You mean to marry a man for love of money and fear of want. I can see that you feel guilt—that you know you are doing wrong. And you know that you cannot be happy in such a marriage.”

“I certainly can imagine myself being happy with Mr. Darcy. I would not have agreed to marry him if I could not.”

“You must tell him that you will end it—I had not thought, I had not imagined that you would truly do this.”

“Why not? It is a sensible and prudent match.”

“That is not like you to say such a thing—it is not right.”

“Mr. Darcy asked me if I would marry him. He did not ask me if I loved him. He did not enquire whether I had an unalloyed approval of his manners. He did not ask if I would marry him were he a penniless man. No, he simply asked if I would marry him, and I answered the question. I have no reason for any guilt.”

Jane looked at Elizabeth sadly.

Elizabeth felt the sick twisting in her guts.

Mr. Darcy deserved better.

Elizabeth had said it to herself. Jane had said it to her.

But it was not the advice of the Gardiners, and it certainly was not the advice of the world in general.

“You feel it as well,” Jane said. “You feel the wrongness of your position. It is not too late. You can tell Mr. Darcy that you cannot marry him—that you will not marry him solely for his fortune and that you do not have sufficient feeling towards him to justify it upon other grounds.”

That also terrified Elizabeth.

The thought of losing him. And the thought of hurting him. It would hurt him greatly.

Instead of speaking about that fear, Elizabeth said, “And this time Mama would truly come to hate me. You saw how happy she was when I announced it.”

“Mama will survive the disappointment. And had you refused Mr. Darcy as you ought to have, she would never have known. Perhaps the Almighty will force you to bear her disappointment so that you may feel the full error of what you did by leading Mr. Darcy on.”

“Jane, I am not going to end my engagement.”

Her sister’s face fell. She must have known from Elizabeth’s wholly solemn expression that she was fully committed to this.

“But, Lizzy, I wish to protect you. How can I protect you from this mistake when you cannot see that it is one?”