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Also, he was the last person in the world she would consider marrying. But at this point he would settle for having her ear.
How could he persuade her to listen to him when she disliked him so intensely? After his farce of a proposal, she would undoubtedly avoid his presence. He cringed recalling how he had insulted her family, condescended to find her attractive, and confessed he loved her against his will. He was fortunate indeed that she had not slapped his face.
Perhaps she would listen to the story about Wickham if someone else told it? Maybe Richard? No, his cousin was ten times more charming than Darcy himself, who hardly needed more competition for Elizabeth’s attention. Furthermore, Richard could not be in Brighton for days.
Darcy slumped in a chair. I must find a way to warn her about Wickham. But how will I speak with her alone? And how do I ensure she will believe my story?
Pushing himself from the chair, he resumed pacing—then stopped as a horrible thought struck him, paralyzing him in the middle of the room. Wickham might make Elizabeth an offer of marriage. I can do nothing to prevent it.
No, surely not. Elizabeth had no dowry to speak of, nothing to tempt Wickham. Unless the man was aware of Darcy’s interest in her…and made her an offer just to spite his childhood rival. Darcy bit down on his knuckles to stifle a moan. How would he bear it?
But surely Wickham remained unaware of Darcy’s interest. He had been discreet with his attentions to Elizabeth in Hertfordshire.
Was it possible Elizabeth might tell Wickham about the marriage proposal? Darcy’s knees threatened to collapse, and he grabbed the back of a chair to prevent a fall. Had they laughed together over tales of my inept proposal? Darcy’s stomach threatened rebellion again. No, Elizabeth is an honorable woman; she would not betray my trust.
Unless he had been completely deceived in her character. If that were the case, all of Darcy’s efforts were for naught.
No, he would not venture down that road.
However, Wickham might have guessed Darcy’s interest in Meryton, and Elizabeth might have dropped some inadvertent hints. It was possible that Wickham might make Elizabeth an offer purely to thwart Darcy. Despite the warmth in the room, Darcy shivered as he realized he had a bigger dilemma than he had initially thought.
How could he prevent it?
Darcy emitted a mirthless chuckle. At Rosings, he would have assumed that the obvious solution was to propose himself since he was presumably a more palatable alternative than Wickham. In the days since the Hunsford disaster, Darcy had gradually realized how little he had considered or attempted to understand Elizabeth’s feelings. Assuming she was in love with him, Darcy had believed his fortune would overcome whatever reservations she might experience about the match.
The irony did not escape him. For years he had fled fortune hunters, and yet he had expected his fortune to be the primary enticement for matrimony.
Still, there was only one way to prevent her from marrying Wickham: marry her himself.
He could not help picturing the Netherfield drawing room and hearing Bingley’s voice asking if Darcy had ever wooed a lady. He had never considered it to be an ability he should develop, but suddenly Elizabeth’s future happiness depended upon it.
Perhaps he could begin their renewed acquaintance with an apology. Yes, here was a sound strategy. If she believed in his contrition, she might grant Darcy an opportunity to court her. Given the chance, he might convince her how deeply he cared about her.
But how? She did not even like him.
Blast and damnation! This love business was so much more complicated than he had anticipated. How did other men go about winning wives?
They wooed them. They courted them. They gave them flowers and flirted and paid compliments about their hair and gowns. Darcy had believed he was above such foolishness, but Elizabeth had shown him that his sense of superiority was precisely the problem.
Darcy stopped pacing, staring at the egregious still life on the far wall. What would happen if I did court Elizabeth? I could flirt, dance with her, bring her flowers, and offer compliments. I could woo her away from Wickham.
But what did he know about courting a woman? His one attempt had ended with the woman declaring he was the last man she would ever marry. His courtship efforts could only be counted as an abject failure.
He had believed she was flirting with him when, in fact, she had hated him. If her future happiness depended on Darcy’s ability to woo her effectively, she was surely doomed.
It seemed such a hopeless case that he might as well give up now, but his stomach knotted with tension at that thought. There was no alternative; he must draw her away from Wickham. If Darcy did not court Elizabeth, she might be shackled to a worthless blackguard for the rest of her life. He could not allow that to happen.
Perhaps I am inept at courtship, but surely I may learn. I am clever; I may show her I have attended to her reproaches and corrected my behavior. My understanding of Elizabeth has improved as well. He could woo her more effectively now—could he not?
He also possessed one great advantage over Wickham: he actually loved Elizabeth. When she compared the two men, hopefully she would perceive the sincerity of Darcy’s sentiments.
Further, wealth was an advantage in courtship. He could give her gifts, take her for carriage rides, show her sights—woo her in ways Wickham could not manage. It would scarcely be a hardship to spend more time with her. Perhaps he could manage to improve her opinion of him. Maybe even make her fall in love with him…
No, that was too much to hope.
Still, some of her dislike was based on misapprehension and mistake. He could demonstrate that he was not always proud and difficult. He could exert himself to be charming and have pleasing manners. Even if he could not win her hand, he would be in a better position to thwart Wickham’s influence and prevent—God forbid—an elopement.
Of course, if he failed, he might drive her straight into Wickham’s arms. Best not to think about that.
