Page 99 of The Slipper Scandal
Arabella nodded, her eyes downcast.
"You believe he has chosen his career over you?"
"I have not heard from him." Arabella's voice carried the weight of resignation. "And it is his life's work, his passion."
Elizabeth took her friend's hand. "I am sorry, Belle. Truly."
"As am I for your situation," Arabella replied, squeezing Elizabeth's fingers. "Though I confess, I envy you in one respect."
"What could possibly be enviable about my predicament?"
"Mr. Darcy has given you a choice," Arabella said simply. "Do you not see what a profound gift that is? He loves you enough to risk losing you entirely. He has placed your happiness above his own desires."
Elizabeth knew Arabella was absolutely right.
"Is that not the truest expression of love?" Arabella continued, a little wistful. "To give the other person what they need, even at great cost to oneself?"
"While I sit here paralysed by indecision," Elizabeth said, exasperation colouring her tone. "I have never been so uncertain in all my life."
"Perhaps courage is not always about charging forward," Arabella suggested. "Sometimes it is about acknowledging what we truly feel, even when those feelings frighten us."
Elizabeth considered her friend's words. "And what do you truly feel about Colonel Fitzwilliam?"
Arabella's expression softened, a mixture of joy and sorrow playing across her features. "I love him," she said simply. "With all my heart. But I fear that it may not be enough to overcome the obstacles before us."
"I understand that sentiment all too well," Elizabeth murmured.
They sat together, each lost in thoughts of the gentlemen who had captured their hearts. Outside, a light rain had begun to fall, droplets pattering against the windowpanes in a soothing rhythm.
"Do you love him?" Arabella asked at last, her voice gentle but direct.
The question caught Elizabeth by surprise, though it should not have. It was the same question Mr. Darcy had posed, the same question she had been avoiding in the deepest recesses of her heart.
There were no words. She simply nodded, then asked, "How did you find the courage to acknowledge your feelings for Colonel Fitzwilliam?"
A melancholy smile played across Arabella's lips. "I realised that the pain of loving him, even without hope of return, was preferable to the emptiness of never having loved at all. And once I acknowledged that truth, there was a strange sort of peace to be found in it."
"Even now, when your father has forbidden you to see him?"
"Even now," Arabella confirmed. "Though, I confess I would trade all the peace in the world for one more conversation with him."
Elizabeth's heart ached for her friend. "Perhaps your father might be persuaded to reconsider."
"Perhaps," Arabella allowed, though she did not sound convinced. "But enough of my problems. We were discussing your situation with Mr. Darcy."
"Which is entirely of my own making." Elizabeth sighed.
"No, not entirely," Arabella countered. "The circumstances that brought you together were beyond your control. Lord Ellington's interference, the gossip, the expectations of society—these are not problems you created."
"But my response to them has created just as many problems." Elizabeth rose, moving to the window to watch the rain trace silver patterns down the glass. "I have allowed fear to dictate my actions, rather than examining the truth that lies before me."
"And what truth is that?"
Elizabeth was silent for a long moment, gathering her courage to articulate what she had scarcely dared acknowledge, even toherself. "That Mr. Darcy is unlike any gentleman I have ever known. That his integrity, his consideration, his understanding of my needs and fears . . . these qualities make him uniquely suited to be my partner in life. But what if . . ."
Arabella joined her at the window, slipping an arm around her waist. "Mr. Darcy has given you time. Use it. Examine your heart."
"You are correct," she said, squeezing Arabella's hand. “Hehasgiven me a gift. I will not squander it.”
