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William stared at Elizabeth, ashen-faced. “Yes…” he said slowly. “Mrs. Hurst, Miss Bingley, and I all spoke with Bingley about—”
“You are responsible for separating Jane from the man she loved?” Elizabeth’s father was on his feet, eying William with horror.
“She seemed so…” William hesitated. “I did not think her feelings were engaged.”
Elizabeth shot to her feet as well. “And why should you make such a determination?”
William was standing, but he kept his eyes fixed on the table. “It was not well done of me. I know it now, and I am so very sorry.”
Elizabeth stood behind her chair, grabbing the back to steady herself. Her entire body shook with anger and flushed with a heat that had nothing to do with the blazing fire in the fireplace. Perhaps I should simply leave. Papa would come with me. We could hail a cab—if they have them on Christmas Day. Or we can walk. How can I remain here? Knowing what he did, how can I stay and make polite conversation with him?
William’s obvious distress did little to mitigate Elizabeth’s anger. He might regret his actions, but Jane’s happiness was still ruined. Elizabeth squeezed the back of the chair until her knuckles turned white.
It took a moment to notice that many of the dinner guests were staring at her. Why?
Oh.
Oh.
In her rage Elizabeth had forgotten that William was the man who had asked her to marry him. The man whose proposal she had been on the verge of accepting under the mistletoe not half an hour earlier. Now she could not. She should not accept William’s hand. She should not wish to accept William’s hand.
And yet, somehow, she did. She wanted to marry him with a greater ferocity than she had ever wanted anything before. Her desire should have been quenched forever, yet it blazed even more heartily.
It made no sense. She was angry; that rage should drive out any other emotions, even love.
Love.
Elizabeth’s breath caught. Oh, merciful heavens, I am in love with him.
What a terrible time to realize it.
In a flash Elizabeth understood why she had been uncomfortable accepting William’s proposal. Earlier, she had not been sure she loved him, and she had been unable to imagine marrying him without love. Now she knew she loved him, and it did her no good.
She wanted to accept his proposal immediately. She wanted to stand on her chair and cry her acceptance to the whole room. She wanted…to kiss him before all his Christmas guests. And now was the moment when she could not.
Elizabeth’s anger at William had transformed into a cold fury aimed at Miss Bingley, who had forced this unwelcome knowledge upon Elizabeth and her father. No doubt she hoped it would separate Elizabeth from William. Elizabeth had no desire to see the other woman’s scheme succeed, but how could she agree to marry William after this awful revelation?
William was stricken. “Elizabeth, I did realize, and I—”
“I believe,” Miss Bingley drawled, “that you had best exert your energy toward explaining why you wish to marry Elizabeth Bennet when you believed her family was not good enough for my brother?”
“I would like an answer to that question as well,” Elizabeth’s father said, glaring at William.
“I was wrong. I realized it not long ago.” He spoke to everyone, but his eyes were fixed on Elizabeth, beseeching her. “I pray you understand. I attempted to make amends by—”
The door to the dining room opened once more, and the butler entered.
“What is it now, Bates?” William asked.
“I beg your pardon, sir, but Mr. Bingley has just arrived.” Bates must have worked for years to perfect that bland non-expression.
“Charles? Here?” Miss Bingley cried. “But I did not expect him back for two more days!”
Elizabeth understood that panicked tone. No doubt her brother would be less than impressed by how Miss Bingley had insinuated herself into the Darcy House Christmas celebration and endeavored to stoke controversy. She obviously had not intended him to know until all the damage was done.
“Please show him in, Bates,” William said with an air of weary resignation. At this point he would probably be happiest if all his guests departed immediately.
“Elizabeth,” William said after Bates departed, “I have been trying to tell you that—”
