Page 69 of Sketching Mr. Darcy

“I am more disappointed in you than I have ever been before, sir. How dare you offend me? Is this the way a gentleman treats his wife? Is this the behaviour of a husband? Can you expect me to nurture my affection for you with such manners?”

“The behaviour of a husband would be to offer little and demand more! A wife’s due is to show affection to her husband, not to give it as a favour! As the fool I have been, I did otherwise, and now I receive the proper repayment.”

“You should rest now, Mr Darcy, as your reasoning is painfully wrong. And please rest assured that, had I wanted to secretly meet someone, I could do it without anyone finding out about it. I am smart enough for that, and you would never know.”

The effect of her words was immediate, and she could see him turning completely pale. He stared at her, speechless, obviously fighting to keep his control. The pain she felt for saying such things put a sharp claw in her chest, but she felt he had deserved it, so she continued:

“If you were more reasonable and kept the promise you made me three days ago—of allowing me to speak without jumping to conclusions—I would have said that I have not slept much since you left, either, as I was worried for you, and I was happy to see you safely home. Now, because of your senseless behaviour, I will leave you alone, and for the first time since we married, I shall lock the door between us!”

She returned to her rooms, and he followed her, as he had trouble fully understanding her meaning. Only the last words coloured his face.

“You cannot possibly believe that locking your door will keep me away if I wish to enter! You are my wife and I can enter your room whenever I please. There are no boundaries you may put between us and force me to keep them if I want it otherwise!”

She stood still, pale, her back strengthening, her eyes narrowing while casting daggers at him. She took a step closer, then spoke rawly, her voice determined and apparently calm.

“I do not believe a locked door could keep you from entering, but I hoped that, finding the door locked, a gentleman would not wish to enter by force—just as I always believed that a gentleman would not use his right to his wife as a threat or for revenge. Indeed, you are the master of the house and my husband. You may enter my chamber and my bed this very moment if that is your desire. Shall I undress first, or will that not be necessary?”

Darcy paled, looking at her in shock, his mouth half open, his eyes widening in disbelief. He seemed unable to breathe and attempted to respond but his lips moved without sound. Then he suddenly turned and left, slamming the door forcefully behind him.

***

Elizabeth lay on the settee in her room, her temples and eyes in sharp pain from her distress. What had just happened, and how was such a horrible discussion possible? How could he accuse her and threaten her that he could do whatever he pleased? Had he completely lost his mind?

It was indeed a strange coincidence that he found her speaking to Lord Clayton and Mr Wickham—whose appearance was a most unpleasant mystery even to her—and she could understand that he was displeased.

But how was it possible for him to doubt her, to accuse her of bonding easier with other men?

Had her manners been so careless that he would suspect her of being disloyal?

And does he truly believe that I do not care for Georgiana’s well-being?

Of course, she cared—and she was deeply worried for her younger sister!

The girl’s behaviour was a sign of restlessness but not of the kind Elizabeth expected.

Georgiana seemed nervous, yet not very surprised and not at all displeased to see Mr Wickham!

And then, in the main hall, she asked her brother to speak with her urgently—but of course he harshly refused her!

Well, it was his right as the master of the house to decide with whom he wanted to speak and when!

What lovely manners for an educated, faultless man! If only she had been capable of better controlling herself, things would have gone better. Why did I lose my temper so easily?

He had unfairly insulted her in a most ungentlemanlike manner.

But what was she thinking to reply in such a preposterous way?

To suggest she could plan to meet other men without his even knowing?

Had she lost her mind, too? She responded to offence with offence, and what should have been a joyful reunion turned into a heartbreaking fight !

She vividly recollected the moments before he left, and she still felt chills along her skin.

He had called her “my love”—even if perhaps he did not mean it in such a way.

He promised he would return soon—and he did.

He confessed he did not sleep at all, hurrying to return home!

And now he had left again—tired, dirty, angry and as unreasonable as ever!

Hateful, irritating, unpleasant, haughty man!

Angry, pained, disappointed, and feeling useless and restless, Elizabeth moved from the bed to the door.

The room was too warm, and she could barely breathe, so she opened the window wide—in time to see her husband enter his carriage and depart in haste.

Hateful man with very poor courting skills! She angrily glanced at the roses that already had started to fade. She then left the room, slamming the door behind her.