Page 100 of The Slipper Scandal
They stood together at the window, watching the rain come down.
"Whatever you decide," Arabella said at last, "know that you have my support and my friendship, always."
"As you have mine," Elizabeth replied, embracing her friend. "And I pray that you and Colonel Fitzwilliam will find your own path to happiness."
Arabella's smile was tinged with sadness. "Perhaps. But Lizzy—”
“Yes?”
Her friend hesitated for a moment before saying, “My parents have made the decision for me. Do not allow your parents to do the same.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “What do you mean? Mamma would like me to marry Mr. Darcy and Papa is not averse to it, but neither of them are deciding for me.”
“Are they not?” And with that, Arabella kissed her cheek and left her to her thoughts.
Chapter Thirty
Elizabeth surveyed the half-packed trunk that lay open upon the bed. The books, gowns, and small trinkets that had accompanied her to London seemed to mock her, most especially the pink slippers now tossed carelessly atop the whole.
She had not slept. The conversation with Mr. Darcy and his unexpected release of her from their engagement had replayed in her mind throughout the night. She had claimed to want it from the very beginning, and yet something in his voice had sounded so final, so quiet, sodisappointed.
She turned back to her packing, her movements mechanical. Each item was stored away with precision. Focusing on minutiae was safer than confronting the storm of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.
A soft knock at the door heralded Arabella's arrival. Her friend entered, her expression a mixture of concern and resignation.
"So you really are leaving, then?" Arabella asked, surveying the trunk.
Elizabeth sighed, sinking onto the edge of the bed. Her fingers found the bedspread's embroidered roses, twisting the cool silk threads until they bit into her skin. "I cannot see any alternative. Mr. Darcy has released me from our engagement. The scandal has subsided, but I cannot remain in London under the circumstances."
"Circumstances you can change," Arabella replied, her hand finding Elizabeth's and stilling the restless plucking.
They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them.
A flash of pain crossed Elizabeth's face, sharp as winter air. "You do not know what it is to live under the same roof with two people who have no care for one another's feelings. What happened yesterday . . . That is what happens when you mistake duty for affection, when you dismiss the need for mutual admiration and respect."
"Is that what you think this is?" Arabella's voice carried a note of incredulity. "Do you truly believe that what is between you and Mr. Darcy is mere duty?"
Elizabeth hesitated, her breath catching. "I do not know what it is. But I know what it could become. And if I marry without certainty, if I allow myself to fall into something that cannot be sustained, then I am no better than my mother. I will speak, and he will stop listening. He will retreat into silence, and I will grow sharp, and we will both suffer."
"Or," Arabella said, her voice soft as silk against skin, "you might create something else together. You might learn each other's language. You might become different than your parents because you choose to be. Because you already are."
“I am so tired, Belle.” It had been a terrible night, and Elizabeth's eyes fairly burned with fatigue. "I am not brave enough to try."
"Youare, Lizzy," Arabella whispered, her breath warm against Elizabeth's temple. "If there is anything I know about you, it is that you are so very brave. You have faced far more frightening things than love. And the courageous Lizzy Bennet who has been my friend my whole life knows that she must make a decision and convey it to the man who is waiting for her. She is aware that she cannot simply slip away."
Three sharp raps at the door broke the moment like glass. A maid entered, her starched apron rustling. "Pardon me, Miss Bennet, but your father asked me to inform you that the carriage is waiting."
"Papa says if I am not engaged, I cannot remain." Elizabeth rose on unsteady legs. Arabella frowned, but helped her with her pelisse, the wool rough against her skin, her friend's fingers gentle as they fastened each button.
"My mother wishes you to know that you are always welcome here. Whether for a day or a season, our home is yours."
Elizabeth turned, her heart full. "Your parents have been extraordinarily kind. I can never repay . . . "
"We love you, Lizzy," Arabella replied, embracing her. "There will never be a ledger between us."
"It is time," she said, closing the trunk with a decisive snap.
Arabella accompanied her downstairs, where the Abernathys waited to bid her farewell. Mrs. Abernathy embraced her warmly, whispering, "Follow your heart, my dear."
