Page 98 of The Slipper Scandal
A fleeting expression of pain crossed his features. "I wish it more than anything," he said quietly. "But not if it brings you unhappiness. Not if you undertake it with reservations that might one day curdle into bitterness."
She tried to speak, but he shook his head, silencing her with a mild squeeze of her hands.
"The gossip has nearly died away," he continued. "Ellington is being hounded by creditors and has been caught in a compromising position with Lady Yarrow, much to her husband's consternation. The whispers will linger, but they are no longer loud, and I shall ensure any blame falls upon me. Your parents are here now, and you could return to Hertfordshire with them if you wished."
Elizabeth felt a wave of gratitude and dismay wash over her. His offer was both generous and devastating. Before the debacle yesterday she had been ready to accept him, to set aside her fears and take the risk. And now, paradoxically, his willingness to release her made her want to cling to him.
"What would you have me do?" she asked, searching his face.
"I would have you think on what you truly wish," he replied. "Not what duty demands, nor what society expects, but what your heart desires. And when you have determined that, I would ask that you let me know. I shall abide by your decision, whatever it may be."
He released her hands then, and she felt their absence keenly, as though a flame that had warmed her had been suddenly extinguished. Mr. Darcy stepped back, the proper distance between them restored.
"I shall take my leave now," he said, his voice formal once more. "You have much to consider."
Elizabeth watched him turn towards the door, her heart constricting as she realised that for the first time in more than a fortnight he had not mentioned when—or if—he would callagain. The possibility that she might not see him tomorrow, or the day after, or perhaps ever again, filled her with a sudden, sharp dread that took her by surprise.
As the door closed behind him, she remained standing still, watching the door through which he had passed, her fingers unconsciously tracing the warmth his touch had left upon her hands. Freedom, she realised, was a far more complicated gift than she had ever imagined.
For several minutes, Elizabeth could not move. His words echoed in her mind:I release you from our engagement.She had been so certain that he would persist in his suit, that he would offer reassurances or even press for a swift marriage. Instead, he had done the one thing she had never anticipated.
He had given her achoice.
The irony was exquisite. For weeks she had feared being trapped in a marriage born of obligation rather than affection, and now, at the precise moment when she had begun to acknowledge the depth of her feelings for him and had edged forward towards the precipice, he had removed all obligation from the equation. She was free, and yet she could not be happy about it.
She sank onto the nearest chair, her legs suddenly unable to support her. The drawing room, which had seemed perfectly comfortable mere minutes ago, now felt cavernous and cold without his presence. Even the sunlight streaming through the windows seemed dimmer somehow, as though a cloud had passed over the sun.
"Lizzy?" Arabella's voice came softly from the doorway. "Are you well?"
Elizabeth nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Her friend crossed the room and took the seat beside her, her expression one of gentle concern.
"Mr. Darcy has gone, then?" Arabella asked.
"Yes," Elizabeth managed, her voice barely above a whisper. "He has released me from our engagement."
Arabella's eyes widened in surprise. "Released you? But I thought—"
"As did I," Elizabeth interrupted, a laugh devoid of humour escaping her. "I was certain he would insist upon fulfilling the obligation that circumstances had thrust upon us. Instead, he has given me freedom to choose my own path."
"And this distresses you?"
"Distresses me?" Elizabeth echoed, rising from her seat to pace the room. "I should be overjoyed! This is what I have sought to avoid from the beginning, a marriage founded upon obligation rather than choice."
"Yet you do not appear pleased," Arabella observed quietly.
Elizabeth halted her pacing, turning to face her friend. "I am not," she admitted. "I find I cannot bear the thought of never seeing him again, yet I am equally terrified of accepting him. My courage seems to have deserted me entirely."
“Oh, Lizzy,” Arabella said with a sigh. “I had hoped this season would be a triumph. And now look at us.”
“Both crossed in love?” Elizabeth asked sardonically. “My father would say it gives a girl distinction.”
“Forgive me, Lizzy, but your father is the last man on earth who ought to be casting aspersions.”
“No forgiveness required from me, Belle. You know I agree.”
Arabella's smile was tinged with sadness. "At least you have the opportunity to know your own mind and make a decision."
"Colonel Fitzwilliam?" Elizabeth asked.
