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“It would seem to me,” Mr. Gardiner spoke before Darcy could reply, “that you are the one ruining Miss Bennet’s life. She cannot marry Mr. Wickham now that you have compromised her virtue.”
Elizabeth gasped. “B-But it was just a kiss…and-and the other…I did not invite his attentions—!”
Her uncle gave her a pitying look. “I know, Lizzy. But you have been compromised before several witn
esses.”
Realization slowly dawned on Elizabeth’s face as she took in the avid gazes of the servants. The Gardiners might be induced to keep quiet about the incident, but nobody could guarantee that the servants would not gossip. If Elizabeth married Wickham and rumors spread, their union would always be tainted by suspicions about her relationship with Darcy.
Which, of course, had been Darcy’s intent.
Elizabeth’s breath was coming in gasps. “N-No. H-He c-cannot! I will not—!”
Gardiner grimaced and took a few steps toward his niece, putting his hand on her shoulder. “I am sorry, Lizzy. You are far too compromised now to marry anyone else.” Darcy wished he felt a greater sense of triumph—or at least relief—at this declaration, but saving her from Wickham meant little if he had forever lost her regard for him.
“No,” Elizabeth said miserably.
Gardiner viewed his niece with a sympathetic expression. “It is the way of the world, Lizzy.” Darcy bristled at his condescending tone. Yes, Darcy had put her in an impossible position, but she deserved to be treated with honor and dignity.
Once the initial shock had passed, Darcy knew she would see the benefits. She had not expected him to propose; she had not dared to hope. It would take some time to accustom herself to the idea, but the joys of being his wife would smooth away any awkwardness over his initial behavior.
Darcy stepped forward, interposing himself between Elizabeth and her uncle. “Eliz—Miss Bennet, I apologize for the way this has occurred.” He tried to appear as contrite as possible, although inside he celebrated the knowledge that she would soon be his. “But will you do me the honor of being my wife?”
Elizabeth burst into tears.
Chapter Seven
This was not the reaction Darcy had dreamed about.
Darcy was at a loss. His first impulse was to enclose her in a comforting embrace, but, of course, such a gesture would not be welcomed. Surely this was just a reaction to the surprise of being kissed in such a way. Soon she would recall their teasing conversations and how much she enjoyed his company. After all, her family had nothing, and any woman in England would give much to become the mistress of Pemberley.
“I do not even like Mr. Darcy!” she wailed.
Any woman except Elizabeth Bennet, apparently.
Darcy’s mouth dropped open. Could she possibly be in earnest? She had teased him, laughed with him, danced with him—beautifully. She liked him even if she did not love him. Did she not?
Elizabeth dried her tears on the sleeve of her gown as her aunt tried awkwardly to embrace her. “I will not marry Mr. Darcy!” she declared.
“Elizabeth—” Darcy pleaded.
She ignored him. “I dislike the man. Why should I marry him?”
Darcy was falling backward into a deep hole, with nothing to grasp to slow or halt his descent. She dislikes me? She dislikes me? But…
Mr. Gardiner shook his head slowly. “Lizzy, I am afraid you have no choice.”
“No!” There was more despair in her tone now.
Darcy had been certain she would embrace the opportunity, at least to help her family if not for her own sake. But even that inducement was not sufficient. The world spun around him. Good Lord, what did she actually think of him?
Gardiner regarded with dissatisfaction the growing crowd of onlookers, which by now included the cook and another maid, no doubt the entire household staff. “Lizzy,” he said gently, putting his arm around his niece, “you have had a shock. Perhaps you should go upstairs to rest, and we may discuss this on the morrow over breakfast.”
Wickham made a great show of viewing his pocket watch. “I should depart as well. I am expected at the barracks soon.” He turned away, oblivious to Elizabeth’s despairing look.
The sight broke Darcy’s heart. Did she really care for the blackguard?
Gardiner nodded. “I think it would be best.” Wickham wasted no time in hurrying back toward the house.
