Page 15 of Unwillingly Mrs. Darcy
“It is not a matter of her thinking she can do better. It is a matter of our wishes not being respected. We do not wish to marry one another. It is as simple as that. Uncle, please speak to Aunt Catherine. Make her see sense.”
“And how, pray, do you propose I do that? Even if I could speak to her—and she would listen to me, which she never does—how do you propose we rid ourselves of the scandal in the making?”
“Surely you know people who—”
“Know people who can do what? Travel through time and undo the announcement,” Uncle Matlock said.
“No,” Darcy said. “Someone who might take the blame for it. Perhaps some—”
“You’d have me and your aunt get some poor fool to take the blame for the announcements? For there were several as you know.”
“No, Uncle. I do not wish to make a…” he ran a hand through his hair, exasperated now. “I wish for you to make my aunt understand this was and is a mistake and make amends for her actions. We could simply not speak on the matter again and quietly spread the rumour that the engagement ended. In time, people will forget.”
“Nephew, do not be ridiculous. A broken engagement is almost as bad for your reputation as no engagement at all. And for Anne? To be seen as someone who cannot even get her own cousin down the aisle? No. Nobody would have her after that. Darcy, why do you not simply marry her? After all, you are seven-and-twenty. Do you not want an heir? Do you not want a wife and family?”
He took a deep breath. Of course, he wanted a family. He wanted an heir. He wanted to get married. Unfortunately, the woman he had wanted to marry had rejected him most severely, and he could not picture himself with anyone else despite this. As for Anne—he could not see it. He would not see it. He adored Anne but as a cousin, and a friend—not as a potential wife.
“I do not wish it,” Darcy said, but it came out sounding weak.
“Do not wish it? Come now, William. Do not be foolish. What you wish and do not wish may not matter. The announcement is made, so you might as well make it a reality.After all, it isn’t as though you are engaged to somebody else, are you?” He chuckled, as though he already knew the answer, and Darcy forced a smile. He wasn’t going to get anywhere with his uncle. That much was clear.
And yet, he looked at the man, for suddenly, he had an idea. His earlier conversation with Mrs Gardiner, the argument with Elizabeth, and the subsequent realisations, still weighed heavily upon him. The family was looking financial ruin in the face, for he knew well how much specialist physicians could cost. When his mother took ill, his father had physicians brought in from Scotland, Ireland, and even one from Spain. The cost had been astronomical, but they’d had the funds to afford it. The Bennets did not.
And should the worst happen, the women were entirely exposed to Collins’ good will.
Yes, indeed. He knew what would happen and he could not allow it to. In that moment, he made up his mind.
He would go to Longbourn and speak to Elizabeth Bennet. But it would not only be in order to help rid the young woman of her insufferable cousin for the time being. No. He would make the situation change permanently. If she agreed,
He would ask her once more to marry him. Although this time, it wouldn’t be out of love. It would be out of necessity—not just for him, but for her.
If she agreed, then they would all win. He would be rid of the arrangement with Anne, his aunt could save face, and Anne would be free to be with Richard. And Elizabeth Bennet would have the money she needed to help her father.
This may have sounded quite calculated, but in addition to the practical matters, Darcy thought that this situation might have other positive outcomes. Indeed, if Elizabeth married him, he could show her the man he truly was capable of being. A good man. A man falsely accused of being wicked by a man more wicked than Darcy had words for.
Perhaps in time, she would see that she had been wrong about him, just as he had been wrong about her sister. He now understood that he had been wrong. That guilt weighed on him. He had brought misery upon Bingley, upon Jane Bennet, and by extension, the family. He had to make up for that, but if there could be a way where he too could benefit, why not? He would be reluctant, of course.
He did not want her to feel as though he were tricking her into anything. And truly, he wasn’t. He continued to have romantic feelings for her, despite her scorn of him. But that wasn’t so much why. He wanted to marry her to prove himself. And to help those he had wronged.
No, it would be the best option for all of them. He would speak to her. If she rejected him again, then so be it. But if she accepted, then perhaps there would be another chance for him to prove to her what sort of man he really was.
Chapter 9
Elizabeth
The drawing room at Longbourn was modestly furnished but warm, the light from the soft evening sun filtering through the windows. Mrs Bennet paced anxiously, wringing her hands, while Jane and Elizabeth sat by the hearth. Elizabeth appeared composed but observant, while Jane looked pale, her brow furrowed. Opposite them sat Mr Eversham, a specialist of advancing years with a deliberate and thoughtful manner. He had come from Scotland to tend to a patient and, thanks to Uncle Gardiner, had agreed to examine Mr Bennet. Now, they awaited his verdict.
He adjusted his glasses before speaking.
“Well? What can be done, Mr Eversham? Can you heal him? Make him as he was?” Mrs Bennet asked, her voice rife with anxiety.
“Mrs Bennet, I understand your distress,” Mr Eversham said calmly, “but apoplexy and the resulting paralysis are grave matters. Recovery cannot be assured, but there are methods of treatment that may provide some relief. However, they require diligence and patience.”
Jane leaned forward, her voice soft but steady. “What treatments might those be, Mr Eversham?”
Mr Eversham folded his hands together and nodded thoughtfully. “Bloodletting is often employed to reduce the pressure upon the brain, though in cases such as your father’s,where a previous attempt has been made, it must be considered carefully. Leeches applied behind the ears or to the temples can sometimes assist in drawing out excess humours.”
Mrs Bennet gasped, sinking into a chair and clutching her handkerchief. “Leeches! Good heavens! Oh, my poor Mr Bennet!”
