Page 82 of One Night with Mr. Darcy
“No, it was more important for him,” said Elizabeth. “Women can be taken care of as long as we are attached to some man or other. I am Willie’s mother, and you are his guardian. We have a house, money, everything we might need. That’s all that matters.”
“But…” Richard sighed. “You can’t marry him. People will recognize you. They’ll see who you are, and it will get back to Mr. Collins and ruin everything. So, your plan is to stay away from him forever?”
“I never said it was a perfect plan,” said Elizabeth.
“It sounds like a wretched plan!” said Richard.
“Well, considering all the alternatives, it was the best one for Willie,” she said. “It’s not perfect, of course. I could have likely had my marriage with Mr. Collins annulled. I don’t know if he would have gone along with it, because it would have shamed him. But I could have gotten out of it some way or other. I could have married Mr. Darcy then, but we would have been shamed and shunned. And Willie would always have been Mr. Darcy’s bastard, and I… I could not do that to him. He needs to have a future. That’s more important to me than anything, including my own happiness.”
“I see that,” said Richard.
“And if I thought Mr. Collins were happy, and Charlotte were happy, and everyone was pleased enough with the way things were, maybe I’d simply have left it. But being married to me made Mr. Collins miserable. If I were dead, it made things better for everyone. And this way, I could be Mr. Darcy’s mistress, which isn’t ideal, of course, but it’s better, you see. I improved things for everyone, in the end, and I protected Willie. What was I supposed to do? Sit around and wait for Mr. Collins to die? He wasn’t going to die. That had become abundantly clear.”
Richard sighed. “Yes, you’re right, of course. It’s not ideal, but it is better.”
MR. DARCY STOODon the threshold of the small estate whose deed was in the name of William Forthsign.
A maid welcomed him inside. He was shown to the sitting room.
There, his Elizabeth was waiting, a huge smile on her face.
“Mr. Darcy,” announced the maid.
“Thank you, Tilly,” said Elizabeth. “That will be all. Shut the door on your way out?”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Tilly, curtsying quickly.
The door clicked closed.
She was in his arms.
When he’d heard of her scheme, he’d been livid. He found much fault with it, and he raged about all of the things that he didn’t like about it to Richard, who only agreed, saying that he thought it was all true also.
But it was done, as Richard had pointed out, and there was nothing either of them could do about it. It could not be undone.
And now, here she was, and he could not find it within himself to complain about it.
They kissed for a long time. He could not stop kissing her. It had been months since he’d touched her, months in which he’d spent hours every day ruminating on the situation, feeling helpless and stymied, a low rage simmering within him.
He had nothing to turn the rage on, though. He could not change the entire world to make the rules different for Elizabeth and himself.
And he could not change the past to make them both make different decisions.
Would that he had never drunk the absinthe!
Would that he had not been so confused when she came to him the next day!
Would that…
Well, there was nothing for it. He could not rewrite history.
When the kisses found a small break, she breathed to him, “Willie is in the back garden. He is very excited to see you.”
He clutched her face with both of his hands. “Ah, you mock me. You know I am mad for you, but then you distract me with our little son.”
“He is everything, Fitzwilliam.”
“So he is.” He clutched her hand. “Let’s go, then.”
