Page 64 of A Prudent Engagement

“Good lord!” Charlotte cried. “What has Eliza done that Mr. Darcy needed to know about?” She looked at Elizabeth with raised eyebrows. “Did you do something shocking without ever telling me? I am rather hurt.”

“No.” Elizabeth stared at Jane. A red angry glow started to fill her chest. “That is not what Jane means.”

“She does not love him. She dislikes him. And she still plans to marry him. He deserved to know.”

Charlotte stared aghast at Jane. “You did not.”

“My conscience demanded I tell him.”

“Your conscience!” Charlotte exclaimed. “Your conscience!”

“He deserved to know,” Jane repeated. “To marry a man while withholding from him information of significance is akin to fraud.”

Charlotte asked, “And you mean to stop every case of fraud which pokes you in the eye?”

Elizabeth’s mind swirled.

For days she had been consumed by guilt. And now Jane had told him what she had felt guilty about, and she only wanted to see Mr. Darcy, to tell him that it was all wrong and to convince him to stay, despite whatever Jane had said.

She could not bear to see him go.

“When the purpose of the fraud is to enrich me and my family, yes,” Jane said. “And I needed to act for Lizzy’s sake. If she marries him, it will be impossible for him to not see how much she dislikes him and his character when they live together every day, and then they will come to despise each other like Mama and Papa did. I cannot let that happen to Lizzy.”

“So you have determined to take the happiness of everyone else upon yourself. To make their decisions.” Charlotte stared at Jane. “I am shocked at you. But…you seem quite satisfied with yourself on this account, so how did you make a mistake.”

Jane’s face whitened, and she quieted again. She sat on one of the benches by the drive up to Lucas Lodge and put her hands over her face.

“How did he respond?” Elizabeth asked, filled with anxiety and fear for the pain that Mr. Darcy must feel. “What did he say—Lord! I must speak with him. I hope he does not mean to leave Meryton without talking to me. But no, he could not. He would not leave without a word to me. That would not befit his honour.”

She let out a gust of air.

She would somehow be able to make this right.

Jane looked oddly at Elizabeth. “You must release him. He said that he cannot end the engagement, that his honour would not permit him to.”

“That was his reply to what you told him?” Elizabeth did not know whether she felt relieved or sick to hear it.

“I had not known. I thought—he now is convinced he must still marry you. Poor man. He deserves better. He looked miserable.”

“Mr. Darcy looked miserable?” Elizabeth asked in a small voice. She did not know whether she wished to slap Jane and then beat her, like a farmer might beat the wheat to thresh it, or simply never speak to her sister again.

“Lizzy, release him, send him away. His pain will not be permanent. I know this. My pain has not been permanent—I have in fact found myself quite light of spirit for the past two weeks. Except for Papa’s death, that is. But I have seldom thought about Mr. Bingley at all since I heard the news about Papa.”

“You have been quite charitable,” Elizabeth said, “considering Mr. Darcy’s happiness as more important than your own comfort.”

“And your happiness as well, Lizzy. And what is right,” Jane added.

“And my happiness, of course. How can I forget the concern that you have shown for my welfare in this matter.”

“You do not know what you are about. You cannot think it is good. You cannot think it is sensible. You cannot wish to be married to him.”

“Why?” Elizabeth clenched her fists. “Jealousy? Do you mean to ruin my engagement—and everything good that it will do for the family—because you are still miserable that Mr. Bingley left? If you cannot be the saviour of the Bennets by marrying a rich man, if the perfect Jane who is always the most beautiful in the world cannot save us, then we shall not be saved!”

Jane looked at her with tears in her eyes.

“I must go to him,” Elizabeth said. “Charlotte, I am sorry that we must part like this, but I must go. Go. Now.”

What if he left? What if he went away and she never saw him again?