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“That is kind, but I have nowhere to go and no one who would not send me back.” She sighed. “I have acted impulsively, I know. But I could not bring myself to speak those vows, to bind myself to a life of such constraint.”

“No,” Mr Darcy said quietly. “I understand the impulse to resist a marriage arranged without regard for one’s wishes.”

There was something in his tone that suggested personal experience, a hint of sympathy beyond mere politeness. Elizabeth glanced at him curiously.

“My own family is currently engaged in similar collusions,” he continued. “They wish me to marry a lady of their choosing, a match advantageous in terms of connection and fortune, but lacking in more essential qualities.”

“Such as affection?” Elizabeth ventured.

“Or even basic compatibility,” Mr Darcy agreed. “The lady in question is accomplished in the conventional sense—she plays, she sings, she draws—but we have no common interests, no shared understanding.”

“And yet you are expected to spend your life with her.”

“I am expected to make an offer, yes. Though I have resolved not to do so.”

Elizabeth felt a sudden kinship with this stranger, this Mr Darcy who, like herself, faced the pressure of family expectation in matters of the heart. “It seems we are both in rebellion against the matrimonial designs of our families.”

“Indeed.” A faint smile touched his lips. “Though my situation is less desperate than yours. As a man, I have the luxury of simply refusing the match without severe consequence.”

“While I, as a woman, have no such privilege,” Elizabeth finished. “My choices are far more constrained.”

“What will you do now?” Mr Darcy asked, his expression grave once more.

Elizabeth shook her head. “I do not know.”

He wetted his lips, his jaw moving back and forth before he turned to her. “Miss Bennet, I am about to make a most unconventional suggestion. I ask that you do me the courtesy of listening to what I have to propose, before responding.”

Elizabeth regarded him warily. “What suggestion?”

“You require a husband who would allow you freedom to pursue your writing, who would not seek to constrain your intellect or independence.”

“Yes, but—”

“And I,” Mr Darcy continued, “require a wife who would satisfy family expectation without demanding the emotional intimacy I am not prepared to offer.”

Elizabeth stared at him, comprehension dawning. “Mr Darcy, are you suggesting—”

“A marriage of convenience that would benefit us both.”

The world seemed to tilt beneath her. Had this stranger, this man she had known for less than half an hour, just proposed marriage?

“You cannot mean it,” she said at last. “We are complete strangers.”

“True,” he acknowledged. “But consider our situation. You require immediate escape from an unwanted match and a place to call home. I require a wife who will expect neither love nor exclusive attention, who has her own interests to occupy her time.”

“But marriage?” Elizabeth shook her head in disbelief. “That is a lifelong commitment, Mr Darcy.”

“It need not be,” he replied. “We could agree to a term—a year, perhaps. At the end of that time, if either of us finds the arrangement unsatisfactory, we could seek an annulment.”

“On what grounds?”

“Non-consummation would be the simplest.”

Elizabeth inhaled sharply at his frank discussion of such intimate matters. “You suggest a marriage in name only.”

“I do.” Mr Darcy’s expression remained serious.

“You would have your own chambers at my estate, complete freedom to write or engage in whatever pursuits you choose, and the protection of my name and fortune. In return, you would appear as my wife at such social functions as are necessary to satisfy propriety and otherwise live your life as you see fit.”

“Why would you do this?” she asked. “What benefit is there for you?”

“Peace,” he replied simply. “Freedom from the constant pressure to marry according to my family’s wishes. A year’s respite in which to determine my own path.”

To consider marriage to a man she had just met, based on nothing more than mutual convenience and desperation.

And yet, what alternative was there? Return to Jonathan Blackfriars and a life of suffocating constraint? Attempt to survive alone in a world that offered few opportunities to women of her class without family support?

“Where is your estate?” she asked, hardly believing she was considering his offer.

“Pemberley,” he replied. “In Derbyshire.”

Elizabeth started, could it be that this gentleman hailed from the very family her aunt had spoken of? “Derbyshire? My aunt, Mrs Gardiner, is from Lambton.”

“Lambton is but five miles from Pemberley,” Mr Darcy said. “You have connections in the area?”

“Only my aunt,” Elizabeth explained. “She speaks of it often, though I have never visited.”

A strange coincidence, that of all the gentlemen in London who might have approached her, she should encounter one with ties to her aunt’s childhood home.

“If we were to do this,” she said slowly, “where would we go? How would we proceed?”

“Gretna Green,” Mr Darcy replied. “It is the only place we could marry without banns or licence. We would travel there directly, with only such belongings as you have with you now. After the ceremony, we would journey to Pemberley.”

“This is folly,” she murmured.

“Perhaps,” Mr Darcy conceded. “But is it any less of a folly than returning to a marriage you know will bring you misery?”

He had a point. A maddening, logical point.

Elizabeth took a deep breath. “If I were to consider your proposal, I would require certain assurances.”

“Name them.”

“That I would have freedom to write, to send my work to publishers, and to pursue my ambitions without interference. And that as my husband you would assist me in negotiation in my behalf, as it is frowned upon for a woman to do so.”

“Granted.”

“That I would have my own chambers, as you suggested, with privacy respected.”

“Of course.”

“That if I should wish to leave before the year is complete, you would not prevent me.”

Mr Darcy hesitated. “I would ask only that you not leave without discussion. If you are unhappy, we should address the cause before taking such a drastic step.”

“That seems reasonable,” Elizabeth conceded. “And one more condition. That you tell me, honestly, why you are so reluctant to marry according to your family’s wishes.”

Mr Darcy was silent for a long moment, his expression guarded. Then, as if coming to a decision, he spoke.

“My parents’ marriage was arranged, but fortunate. They developed genuine affection for one another over time. My father respected my mother’s intelligence, valued her opinion, treated her as a partner rather than a possession.”

He paused. “Alas, I have observed many marriages among my acquaintance that lack such harmony. I have witnessed the profound unhappiness such engagements breed, even when carefully concealed behind polite smiles.”

“And you fear such a fate for yourself.”

“I do,” he admitted. “I do believe that marriage should be founded on mutual respect and compatibility, not merely on fortune and connection.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Your proposal offers a solution to both our dilemmas. But it is a step not easily undone, even with the provision for annulment you suggest.”

“True,” Mr Darcy acknowledged. “Which is why I would not press you for an immediate answer. Take time to consider—”

“There is no time,” Elizabeth interrupted. “My father will be searching for me even now. If I am to escape this fate, it must be immediately.”

She rose from the bench, her decision made. It was reckless, perhaps even foolhardy, but what choice remained?

“Mr Darcy,” she said, extending her hand. “I accept your proposal.”

He rose to meet her, his expression solemn as he took her offered hand. “Are you certain, Miss Bennet? This is no small undertaking.”

“I am certain only that I cannot marry Jonathan Blackfriars,” she replied honestly. “Your proposal offers an alternative I had not imagined possible.”

“Very well.” Mr Darcy released her hand. “Shall we leave at once?”

“Yes,” she said, then hesitated. “Perhaps you might take me to Cheapside, I wish to bring a few of my belongings. My family will still be at the church, I am certain. I wish to leave a note, letting them know I am well.”

“What if they come back before you are ready?”

“I will be ready. My things are already packed as I was to travel to my new husband’s home this very evening. I shall rush inside, leave my note, collect my things, and then meet you outside.”

He nodded. “Very well. I shall do the same. My sister is at our townhouse and I must tell her I will be away.”

She gave him her uncle’s address. He escorted her to the carriage, which would drop her at her uncle’s house. She would collect what she needed and wait for him across the street, safely hidden until he collected her.

As they parted, she looked out of the carriage at him, feeling like the unlikely heroine of her own improbable tale, about to embark on an adventure with an unknown ending.