Page 53 of The Riches of a Life Well-Lived

Thursday, November 21, 1811—2 Days after Tuesday

Darcy quietly fidgeted with his sleeves as he waited for Elizabeth. They had not discussed meeting this morning, but he refused to wait even another hour to see her.

Elizabeth came to an abrupt halt as she noticed him. “Mr. Darcy! You startled me.”

“Good morning. I did not mean to startle you.” He smiled at her. “I merely wished to accompany you on your morning ramble.”

Elizabeth turned onto the path towards the creek, which was wooded the entire way, a small frown on her face. “Do you really think we ought to be seen together?”

Darcy, who had trailed after her like a child following the Pied Piper, flinched. “You do not want to spend the morning together?”

“Of course I do! I miss you a great deal. However, if you recall, you mentioned that you do not wish for me to feel as though I do not have a choice in our union. I am merely trying to ensure you have that same choice,” she said with a small, tense smile.

Darcy slowly nodded. “And if I do not care?”

“Neither of us is in any position to decide about our futures.” She took a shaky breath. “When I spoke to Jane yesterday, I realised how much I had missed her, how very odd and, in many ways, difficult our situation was.” Elizabeth grabbed a long strand of dry grass and began dissecting it. “We both need to get used to time’s resumption. I am so glad that we had our Tuesdays, but we are no longer accustomed to normal life.”

“Are you still concerned that I will change my mind?”

She shook her head. “No. But, should you wish to rescind your offer, I know we are both resilient enough to grow through it and be stronger afterwards.”

“Elizabeth, my heart is yours. Time will not change that.”

She smiled up at him. “I know.”

“Are you reconsidering your answer?”

“Not at all! Nothing would give me more pleasure than to become your wife,” she said, her cheeks kissed with a rosy red. “But I do not think we will be able to flourish if we do not wait until after we have readjusted to normal life before moving forward.”

Darcy squeezed her fingers briefly. “Good. Life is primarily made up of linear time and we probably ought to readjust to being in that time. I just—I miss you. I would rather take small risks, like walking out together, than not see you at all. We will already be apart while I am in London,” he said, his voice dropping.

Elizabeth pressed her lips together. “I know. I am trying not to think about that. We shall have to manage things as they come.” She gave him an impish grin. “Something that we ought to be more than proficient at, considering the aberration we have just endured.”

“True.”

“I spoke to my uncle yesterday,” Elizabeth said, plucking another long grass stem.

Darcy’s breath caught in his throat. He had thought it wise for Elizabeth to speak to her uncle without him, particularly in light of Mrs. Phillips’s inability to keep secrets, but what if the man had not believed Elizabeth? “How did it go?”

“He is willing to speak to the merchants and to mention to my aunt that, according to a reliable source, not everyone in the militia is trustworthy.” She frowned. “I just hope that it does not lead to an inquisition.”

“Does your uncle wish to speak to me?”

“He said he requires proof if you wish to pursue legal redress, and he wishes to confirm events with you. However, he will accept my word in the meantime.”

Darcy let out a breath. “I hope it is enough.”

“As do I.”

“I hate to leave you here by yourself―”

“I am hardly on my own,” Elizabeth said with a laugh. “There are plenty of witnesses about.”

He gave her a mock stern look. “You know what I mean. Wickham is cunning. Please do not put yourself in danger while I am gone.”

“Do you know when you are leaving?” Elizabeth asked quietly.

“Yes. The ball will be on Tuesday and I intend to leave Wednesday morning.”

Elizabeth grimaced. “I do not think I will ever consider Tuesday an auspicious day.”

“It brought you to me,” Darcy said lightly. “Perhaps it is a most auspicious day.”

She glared at him. “Well, I suppose it does have that. But still.”

“Will you attend?”

“I presume so.” She chuckled. “Can you imagine what my mother would say if I absented myself?”

Darcy laughed, visions of Mrs. Bennet completely overset by the thought of Elizabeth choosing to miss such a social occasion. His lips still turned up, he reached out to take her hand and pulled her to a halt. “Well, then, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, will you do me the honour of dancing the supper set with me?”

Elizabeth took a step nearer. “Are you certain, sir, that you wish to spend such a lengthy period together? People may talk.”

Darcy took another step closer. “Not nearly as much as they will once we are finally engaged. In the meantime, I would rather spend such a lengthy period with you than with anyone else.”

Elizabeth studied him, wishing she could say the various things nearly bursting from her heart. That she loved him. That she longed to be his wife. That he was one of the most kind and caring men she had ever met, and that she missed having him with her for most of the day. “I would be glad to dance the supper set with you, Mr. Darcy,” she said instead, hoping that he could read the rest of it in her eyes.

Mr. Darcy smiled and raised her hand to his lips. “Excellent.”

Resuming a proper distance, they continued their walk.

“I believe Bingley intends to come ‘round to issue an invitation to your family specifically for the ball. I, obviously, will not be accompanying him—although I suspect that his sisters may join him.”

Elizabeth missed a step. “I had forgotten about them.”

Mr. Darcy chuckled. “That is only because you have not had the pleasure of their company for the past few months. Trust me, you would not have forgotten them had you been staying in the same household.”

“Miss Bingley did seem a bit overenthusiastic,” Elizabeth said cautiously.

Mr. Darcy snorted. “She has made her intentions clear and refuses to accept the various hints I have given her.”

After a moment of thought, Elizabeth smiled mischievously. “Perhaps you might practise some of Mr. Collins’s style of small talk upon her. She may be bored into leaving you alone.”

Mr. Darcy laughed. “Unlike Mr. Collins, I do not practise little delicate compliments—and even if I did, I would not waste them on someone like Miss Bingley. I would much prefer to spend them on you.”

Elizabeth raised her eyes heavenward. “You are twisting my words again. I did not mean that you ought to give her little delicate compliments, but only that you could quite easily monologue about your aunt’s wonderful characteristics.”

“You did not mean that at all, you minx. But, no, I think that even attempting to bore her to death with commonplaces would not suffice. Miss Bingley has an eye for raising her status and she does not care how miserable the necessary marriage is.”

Elizabeth frowned. “What a wretched life.”

“It is all too common among my set,” Mr. Darcy said soberly.

Elizabeth settled on the bench in front of the creek. “Well, it is not one I would wish upon anyone,” she said crossly.

Mr. Darcy tied Sisyphus to a nearby tree and sat down next to her. “Is something amiss?”

She fixed her attention on the creek and its merry tinkling. “I hate to think that you might have been trapped in a loveless marriage, whether it was to me or to anyone else.”

“To you? How can you imagine that a marriage between us might be without love?”

Elizabeth hesitated. She had been considering the matter for weeks now, but they had not yet discussed it, too concerned with escaping Tuesday to discuss painful possibilities like their probable future without Mrs. Engel’s intervention. “Do you ever wonder about us?” she asked.

“About us?” Mr. Darcy repeated uncertainly.

Elizabeth bit her lip. “About how we would have ended up married without Mrs. Engel’s intervention?”

“I assume I would have fallen madly in love with you and come to my senses.”

Elizabeth shook her head, her curls bouncing from side to side. “I would not have married someone like the person I believed you to be.” She took a deep breath. “You are so convinced that we ought to be together because Mrs. Engel told you so, but what if it was a mistake? What if I was accidentally compromised? Or—or I do not know. There may be a hundred other ways that we might have ended up married, even if we despised each other.”

“No, I have not considered that,” Mr. Darcy said slowly. “I cannot imagine a world where we would have disliked each other and still gotten married. The person I was before Tuesday would not have married you by accident. Even if you were compromised accidentally, I believe we could have found a solution that did not necessitate marriage. My―” He swallowed hard. “My aunt and uncle would have done everything in their power to avoid such a marriage.”

“But―”

“Elizabeth, we do not know what may have happened in that future, but it does not have to affect our decisions today. We must decide what we will do, not what they would have done. We have the opportunity and may do with it what we will.”

“Of course. I just—I just wondered if you had considered the possibility.”

“No. Are you concerned about the possibility?”

“My heart breaks at the idea of us being miserable in a marriage to each other.” She could not bear the thought, whether it was in that unknown future or if it was destined to come to pass in their own future.

Mr. Darcy took her hand. “When I was very young and wanted to stay up late with my parents every night, my mother told me that she and my father needed time alone sometimes. She said, ‘Love takes work.’” He smiled ruefully. “I did not fully understand her meaning. Perhaps I still do not. But I know that I regret not spending more time with Georgiana, not ensuring her safety more fully―”

“It is not your fault,” Elizabeth put in, turning to face him.

Mr. Darcy nodded. “I know. But still, repeating this Tuesday has given us both a different perspective on the ties between two people, whether they are a sibling, parent, or beloved. Without spending time with the person, you cannot maintain close ties. And both parties have to remember the time,” he added with a small smile. “Love takes work. I cannot guarantee that we will never have difficulties, but I believe that we can face those difficulties together. Right now, we both desire to spend time together, to put in the work. It is just a matter of continuing to make that decision every day.”

Elizabeth stared at him. Her aunt had said something similar when she had asked why her parents were so adversarial: that they had once loved each other long ago, but that they had not nurtured that love and it had withered away.

“You are right,” she said. She took a moment to breathe. Neither of them could guarantee the future—not even that time would continue moving forward—but they could each decide to love the other, day in and day out, and to spend time together. “Thank you for reminding me.”

He nodded. “I will be glad to remind you whenever you desire.”