Page 47 of Mr. Darcy and the Mysterious "Miss B"
Darcy stared at her, certain he had misheard. “I beg your pardon?”
“We met in Hertfordshire. A courtship between us would surprise no one.” Elizabeth’s voice carried a businesslike quality that somehow made the proposal more shocking. “I could claim to be the mysterious Miss B. It would stop Miss Bingley’s schemes and give you time to discover who truly placed that notice.”
“You wish to… marry me?” The words felt foreign on his tongue.
Elizabeth’s laugh held no warmth. “Good heavens, no. There is nothing I would like less than to become your wife.”
The blunt words stung more than they should have. “Then I confess myself confused about your proposal.”
“A false engagement, Mr Darcy. A temporary arrangement that serves both our purposes.” Elizabeth moved closer, her eyes bright with purpose. “You need a Miss B to escape Miss Bingley’s trap. I need someone with enormous wealth to resolve my family’s financial difficulties.”
“Financial difficulties?”
“Perhaps you recall,” Elizabeth’s voice took on a cutting edge, “that you told Mr Bingley my sister was engaged to Mr James Morton and was looking for a better match? Perhaps you might also recall I told you my sister was trapped in this circumstance due to financial obligations we could not meet. Well, unless you agree to this scheme of mine, Jane will have no choice but to marry James and I would like to spare her that fate.”
Darcy shifted in his seat, the leather crunching beneath her. Mrs Gardiner looked away when he glanced at her.
“Miss Bennet, I must beg your pardon—”
“Oh, spare me your apologies, sir. The damage is done.” Elizabeth waved a dismissive hand. “But perhaps we can find a way to benefit from each other’s misfortunes.”
“You propose a temporary engagement in exchange for…”
“In exchange for you meeting with Mr Morton and paying off Longbourn’s debts. Three thousand pounds,” Elizabeth’s voice grew stronger with each word. “The amount is considerable, but I suspect not beyond your means. Once our supposed courtship runs its course—say, three or four months—we can end the arrangement amicably. At the moment, Longbourn estate is in trouble, however, my family’s land is profitable. I will ensure that you are reimbursed entirely for this sum, even if it takes years. You will have escaped Miss Bingley’s snare and discovered who placed that notice. I will have saved my family from ruin and my sister from a bad match.” She paused, her eyes flashing again.
“And I suppose your sister still has her cap set on Mr Bingley?” he said, aware his tone was snider than intended.
“How dare you make her sound like a chancer!” Elizabeth’s voice rose to a pitch that made the crystal sing.
She stepped closer, her eyes blazing with fury. “Jane has been in love with Mr Bingley since the moment she met him. She lights up when he enters a room. She treasures every word he speaks to her. She has cried herself to sleep every night since you destroyed her chance at happiness with your arrogant interference!”
“Miss Bennet—”
“You think because she does not throw herself at his head like your Caroline Bingley that her feelings are not real? You mistake dignity for indifference, reserve for calculation. Jane would rather die than marry for money alone. She agreed to James Morton only to save our family from ruin, not because she feels anything for him but duty.”
The passionate defence struck Darcy like a series of blows. He had never seen Elizabeth so fierce, so protective, so magnificently angry on her sister’s behalf. She had rebuked him at Netherfield, but this? This was wholly different.
“You saw them together at Netherfield,” Elizabeth continued relentlessly. “You saw how they looked at each other. How can you be so blind to what was before your very eyes?”
Darcy remembered those evenings—Jane’s quiet smiles, the way her eyes followed Bingley across the room, how she seemed to bloom in his presence whilst remaining perfectly proper. Had he truly mistaken reserve for disinterest?
“I… I thought her merely polite.”
“Polite?” Elizabeth’s laugh held no humour. “Mr Darcy, for a man of such vaunted intelligence, you understand remarkably little about the female heart.”
The criticism stung because it rang true. He had been so concerned with protecting Bingley from fortune hunters that he had failed to see what might have been genuine affection.
“If I accept your proposal, which I am not against,” he said, “and if I am wrong about your sister’s feelings, what assurance do I have that Charles would welcome her back? I convinced him she felt nothing for him.”
“Then you must unconvince him,” Elizabeth said sharply. “You created this mess with your interference. You can unmake it the same manner.”
Darcy stared at her, his mind racing through possibilities, consequences, dangers. The plan was risky beyond measure. If discovered, it would ruin them both. But the alternative—marriage to Caroline—was a living death.
And if he was wrong about Jane… if her feelings for Charles were genuine…
“Very well,” he said at last. “I accept your proposal, Miss Bennet. But I expect you to be prepared for the consequences if this scheme goes awry.”
Elizabeth’s smile was sharp as a blade. “Mr Darcy, I have been prepared for consequences my entire life. The question is whether you are prepared to convince Mr Bingley that you were wrong about Jane.”
