Page 18 of Expectations (Obstinate, Headstrong Girl #7)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

SOMETHING VENTURED, SOMETHING GAINED

D arcy noted that Elizabeth did not swoon with outrage, nor turn red with fury at his casually spoken offer. He tried to maintain a stoic expression, although he was predictably embarrassed by just how much he wanted her agreement.

When Cassandra had suggested that they marry, his first instinct was to reject the idea utterly. Not because he did not wish to, no.

It was because Elizabeth, plainly, hated him—whether because of Wickham’s lies or bringing Bingley into her life or simply because he did not appeal. She loathed him, and that was that.

This morning, she had come to him, pleading for his help.

Seeing her, walking and talking with her, her gentle touch—all of these had opened a new, rejuvenated floodgate of emotion.

He had already broken free of the resentment, the jealousy of long ago.

He did not know the details of her past, nor did he want to.

She trusted him with Cassandra, and that said something.

Perhaps it said only that he was slightly preferable to Caroline Plumpton, but it was not hatred she had expressed.

She had even apologised for her defence of Wickham and her initial attitude towards him, both of which were perfectly understandable.

It was an impulsive offer, yes.

Elizabeth might never love him, or feel anything close to his own admiration and affection. But he had given up hoping that his love for her would fade with time and distance, no matter the nonsense he had soothed himself with over the years.

She might resent the power he held over the children’s future.

It was not fair that she, who loved them best, had so little say in it.

Nevertheless, he could not change the fact that he could give them a better life than she could, and it seemed she had come to realise it, and stopped blaming him for it. He could give her a better life, too.

She might refuse to share his bed. His bed was lonely regardless.

He had loved Elizabeth seven long years ago. He loved her still. She could do with that love as she pleased, but an opportunity was before him, and he would hate himself forever if he did not even ask.

“I wish you would not tease me,” she said.

“I certainly would not.”

“You cannot want me as your wife. I am almost seven and twenty. I have a laughably small inheritance, and that not until my mother dies.”

“I have more than enough means to support you.” He could not help the stiffness of his tone, but he could not beg her to want him, could he? Offer to buy her loyalty?

“Of course you could support me.” She gave him an astonished look. “Mr Darcy, you could have…have anyone! Why me?”

He could hardly tell her the truth.

“Why not you? I do not grow any younger. I have become rather set in my ways. I despise ton politics and a London society that attends to little else, but I have ruled out any connexion with the ladies of my estate’s neighbourhood.

I do wish to have children of my own someday, although I would not insist. I will, naturally, agree to take Cassandra as well as Thomas, regardless of whether you decide to join us.

But I would like to provide both children with a robust family life.

I do not wish them to be raised by servants.

You are, demonstrably, a wonderful mother.

I could not ask for better. If you agreed, in the future, to have my children, our children, you would be a wonderful mother to them, too. ”

Her cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink, but he was not finished. She had not let go of his hands. It was at least a small sign that she was not disgusted, so he ventured further.

“I enjoy your conversation. You used to tease me, once upon a time. I think you are the only one who ever has. I have a hope that, once your life and the children’s futures are settled, you might once again.”

Her look softened, and he was encouraged enough to admit a little more. “I have been alone for a long time. Years, now. It would be nice to change that.”

“I heard when your sister wed.”

That was not what he had meant, but he did not correct her. “Georgiana is very happy with her husband, their estate in the Cotswolds, and her life now as it is. I suppose she would take Pemberley as well, but she does not want it.”

“Her children may.”

“Her husband is well able to provide for any offspring they might have. I was considering searching the family tree for possibilities for adoption when I received the news from Bingley’s solicitors. It seemed to be…a sign.”

She gazed up at him, clearly bewildered.

“Is the idea of marrying me repugnant to you?”

“I do not even…I am so astonished, I can hardly think. Could we…could we talk about this? Find someplace to sit and discuss it?”

He looked around their surroundings; other than a few boulders, there did not appear to be much in the way of seating.

Taking her arm, he helped her to a rocky outcropping that overlooked the scenic landscape while providing some shelter from the winter breezes.

Taking off his greatcoat, he spread it out on the ground, and gestured towards it. “My lady,” he said formally.

She looked up at him, obviously disconcerted. “I shall be the ruin of all your coats,” she said, and he smiled.

“I shall order a dozen more.”

But gracefully she sat, elegantly arranging her gown around her as if she were in a drawing room.

He made so bold as to sit beside her, although carefully ensuring that no part of him touched her, despite their proximity.

Notwithstanding her wish to discuss his proposal, for long minutes she said nothing.

“Why have you not married before this?” she finally asked.

“I have never met anyone I wished to marry.” Anyone else , that was, but he felt no need to point it out.

“But you wish to marry me ?”

“I do.”

She shook her head. “I can hardly believe we are even having this conversation.”

There seemed little he could add to that observation, so he did not try. The silence stretched between them.

“My sister’s marriage was often an unhappy one,” she said. “I do not wish to repeat its mistakes.”

Well, that was easily enough done. “I believe that I am a much different man than Charles Bingley. Unless you would be unhappy with the prospect of a life lived mostly in the country, we should be compatible enough.”

But she frowned, not looking at him. Her hands, he noticed, were clenched, probably white-knuckled beneath her gloves. He wanted to retake them in his own, but there was something about her posture which suggested he should not.

“It was not only…town life,” she said softly. “It was not only their differences in upbringing or family. The vows which…which a man and woman take before God and church should always resolve this matter, but in reality, they often do not.”

It took Darcy a moment to realise to just which vow she referred. Her cheeks were now a fiery red, but she continued.

“My sister was a much different person than am I. She looked the other way. She made excuses for him. She pretended not to know, I believe, if that was at all possible. She wept. She begged, for his attention, for a place in his life—any place at all. She accepted that Mr Bingley would…would stray.” Elizabeth managed to look him in the eye, despite her obvious embarrassment.

“I am not my sister. If you wish your freedom, Mr Darcy, to do as you will, please, by all means, keep it. Do not take a convenient bride, for she will be the most in convenient bride in the world. I would not pretend. There would be no peace, you see, no comfortable corner where you might hide, no matter how large your home. Neither would there be forgiveness, or second or third or fortieth chances. Your life would be much smoother, much easier, much quieter with a different sort of bride altogether, if you wish a bachelor’s sort of abandon. ”

He raised his brows. She was warning him ? But after moment’s reflection, it made sense.

Her trust had led to her mistakes. Perhaps her sister had forgiven easily, accepting her penance, but Elizabeth had never forgiven Bingley’s betrayal, no matter that she refused to cling to hatred.

It might even be her way of confessing those errors of long-ago trust. Well, two could make such demands.

“I agree,” he said. “I suggest that both of us think carefully before making our vows. You are correct that few take them into proper consideration. I do. I will expect my wife to do the same.”

She scrutinised him for a long moment, as if she would be able to read the truth in his eyes. Well, he had nothing to hide here. Devil take it, he had been faithful to her for years, without any sort of vow whatsoever!

Elizabeth lifted her chin. “I assure you, Mr Darcy, you need have no fears about my fidelity. And you can say the same?”

He trusted her, after far more provocation, but she did not believe him.

Did she think all men were the same as Bingley, feckless and irresponsible?

Still, she had suffered for her mistakes, he did not forget that.

I was the one who brought Bingley into her life , he reminded himself, before his ire could rise.

“I can and do, without a moment’s hesitation,” he assured, returning her look with straightforward resolve.

Her expression finally faltered, showing him her uncertainty, her doubt…her fear. He finally took her hands in his, wishing he could remove her gloves and make this promise skin to skin.

“Elizabeth, I swear to you, upon my honour as a gentleman. If you agree to be my wife, there will be no other females in my life, in my bed, whether you will join me there or not. From this day forward, for as long as we both shall live. I vow it.”

Her lips formed a perfect moue of complete surprise as she stared at their joined hands. After a long moment she returned her gaze to his eyes.

“Very well, then. I agree. I will marry you.” But she did not look happy about her promise. Not at all.