Page 11 of Mr. Darcy's Runaway Bride
Mr Bennet hesitated. “The financial situation is dire, Lizzy. Far worse than you know. We face complete ruin.”
“Then let us accept Uncle Gardiner’s and Uncle Phillip’s help.”
“It is too late,” he replied, glancing towards the church doors. “The Blackfriars have already advanced funds to secure our most pressing debts.”
The ground shifted beneath her again. Her father had not merely agreed to the match—he had already accepted monetary aid, binding them irrevocably to the arrangement.
“I see.” Her voice sounded hollow. “So, I am already sold, with the price paid and received.”
“Lizzy, that is not fair.”
“Is it not?” She looked up at him, blinking back tears. “Tell me, Father, what if the Blackfriars money is not enough? Will you sell Jane off to some ancient baron desperate for heirs? Or send Lydia to find herself a fine merchant with a deep purse?”
Mr Bennet’s expression hardened and he took two steps back as if she had hit him. “You go too far. I have always held your welfare as my first concern.”
“No,” Elizabeth said. “If that were true, we would not be standing here now.”
Speech eluded them both as they stood. Then, the music swelled once more with the wedding march.
“It is time,” Mr Bennet said at last, offering his arm. “We must proceed.”
Elizabeth stared at the proffered arm. Inside that church waited Jonathan Blackfriars, who would claim her as his wife. She would enter a young woman with a mind of her own and she would exit as nothing but a man’s extension.
“I cannot,” she whispered, backing away. “I cannot marry him.”
“Lizzy, be reasonable—”
“I am being reasonable,” she insisted. “More reasonable than anyone else involved in this affair. You speak of my welfare, yet you would bind me to a man who would extinguish the very qualities that make me who I am.”
“You are overwrought,” Mr Bennet said, reaching for her. “Come inside, compose yourself. We can discuss this after the ceremony.”
“After?” Elizabeth shook her head. “There is no discussion to be had after. Once I say those vows, my fate is sealed.”
She glanced towards the adjacent park, St James Park. She could dip behind the trees and disappear, leave it all behind. Her feet twitched already as her will to safe herself grew stronger than her fear of what her family would think of her. She knew it would be uncomfortable for them, humiliating perhaps. But with her uncles’ help, the family would persevere.
“I am sorry, Father,” she said, gathering her skirts. “Truly, I am. I wish there were another way. But I cannot sacrifice my soul, even for our family’s salvation.”
Before he could respond, she turned and fled into the park, her wedding slippers striking the gravel path with desperate speed. She heard her father call after her once, then fall silent.
***
Elizabeth found a secluded bench near a small fountain and sank down upon it, her legs trembling. Tears welled in her eyes. She had escaped one fate only to face another equally daunting. That of a woman alone, without resources or reputation.
What was she to do now? Where could she go? She had no friends in London who would shelter her against her family’s wishes, no skills to earn her keep, no prospects.
A shadow fell across her lap, startling her. Elizabeth looked up to see a tall gentleman standing before her, his expression one of grave concern.
“Pardon the intrusion, madam,” he said in a tone that spoke of good breeding. “May I be of assistance?”
Elizabeth cleared her vision. The gentleman was handsome, with dark hair and fine eyes, his attire elegant without ostentation. He carried himself with the air of one accustomed to respect and deference.
A lady did not accept assistance from a stranger, particularly not a male stranger, without proper introduction. But these were not ordinary circumstances.
The gentleman extended a handkerchief. “Perhaps you would care to use this? Yours looks well used.”
Elizabeth hesitated, then accepted. The handkerchief was of the finest linen, with the initials ‘FD’ embroidered in one corner. She pressed it to her eyes.
“Thank you, sir,” she managed. “You are most kind.”
