Page 61 of Knowing Mr. Darcy
The servant who greeted him said that Miss Elizabeth had a headache, and he was frightened she would not see him.
He urged the servant to go and see if she would admit him, anyway, and then the servant came back and took him into the drawing room.
When Elizabeth appeared, her hair seemed hastily pinned up, as if she’d already taken it down for the night. He thought of her ready for bed, and he had an embarrassing reaction to it. He had stood upon her entrance but he sat down immediately, even though he assumed that she wouldn’t notice. She wouldn’t be looking at his trousers, for heaven’s sake. Still, it was horrid.
He sat there, sputtering, churning in turmoil, despising himself.
She sat down opposite him.
Time passed.
Finally, he drew in a breath. “I have struggled, you see. In vain. I have attempted to see it from every angle, to escape this, whatever it is that you have done to me, but I can’t.”
“I don’t remember doing anything to you, Mr. Darcy,” she said faintly.
He lifted his gaze to hers. Oh, quite a bad idea. He wrenched it away. “You must allow me to express how much I ardently admire and love you.”
She made a noise.
He tried to look at her again. “It’s all a tangle, and I know that everything about this is unfortunate. You were practically engaged to my friend already, for one thing, and you are not really nearly as well-connected as I would ideally like my future wife to be, but I cannot help it. I am not in control of myself when it comes to you. I can do nothing more than beg for you to accept my hand. Be my wife, Miss Elizabeth?”
She let out a little laugh. “Oh. You have done it, then. After all this, you have.”
“I see you’ve already considered this, then.” His heart rose into his throat.She is going to refuse me,he suddenly realized, with absolutely certainty.
“How could I not, sir? This, between us, whatever it is, it is so very, very…”
“He has already asked you.” Here, he said it aloud, because he’d known it from the moment that Richard wouldn’t meet his gaze. He’d known it, but only now could he give it words.
“Oh, well, yes,” she said. “You mean Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
“I did not walk this morning, because Georgiana wanted me to ride with her, and she felt neglected, and this is how I am rewarded for my devotion to my sister. This is what he does to me. How could he?”
“He said he is accustomed to giving you your way,” she said. “He said you always get it, and I think he is right about that. You have a tendency to get exactly what you want, and I would like to think that I could be at least a little bit rational about you, I really would. I would like to think I could ask you questions about your character—”
“Questions about my character?” He scoffed. “If you think Richard’s character is somehow sterling, I should like to disabuse you of that notion.”
“I have been confused about what was between you and Mr. Wickham—”
“Wickham?” He got to his feet. “You wish to bring him up? How dare you? Do you have any idea what that man did to my sister?”
“But did he have cause for revenge? Was he owed something you refused him?”
“Of course not.”
She blinked at him. “Of course not?”
“No, I was quite willing to allow him to have the position in Derbyshire. He could have moved right into the rectory, just as my father wished.”
“You were?”
“He didn’t want it. I gave him money instead. We agreed on an amount that seemed fair.”
“Oh,” she said, hand to her forehead. “Oh, dear. So, it’s all been about money, then, not revenge. Your sister, it was really just fortune hunting. He is that sort of a man.”
“Can you doubt it?”
“I can, very clearly!”
