Page 57 of Mr. Darcy's Complex Courtship

I put my arm around her. “You do not truly know Mr. Miles. You are enamoured of your fanciful notion of him, but that is not reality.”

She pulled back from me and snuffled. “Well, I suppose he is not perfect in every way. In truth, I should prefer a man with broader shoulders and a deeper voice.” She raised her handkerchief and blew her nose. “Oh yes, and do you recall his reply when I asked him what card game he most preferred? He said he finds playing cards to betedious. How can anyone dislike such a diverting pastime?”

“Yes, his opinion is rather singular.” I bit back a smile and patted her arm. “Excuse me, I shall see you at dinner.” Upstairs in my chamber, I sat upon the bed and read the remainder of Miss Darcy’s note. My breath caught when I fixed upon one momentous line:

Fitzwilliam estimates he will return home on or about Friday the 26thof June.

At long last, our separation neared its end—I should see him in less than a week! Would he come to Gracechurch Street on Friday? Then an image of Miss Anne de Bourgh from my stay in Kent impinged upon my blithe anticipation. The bleak tidings of her death, though not unexpected, diminished my contentment. How cruel life could be—to take a lady in the prime of her life.

Friday, 26 June

Gracechurch Street

Elizabeth

With Jane’s latest letter in hand, I settled on a bench in the garden shaded by a pear tree. She provided a detailed description of sea-bathing, an activity she had been nervous to try but found to be delightful and invigorating.

Footfalls on the stone path pulled my attention from the missive. Could it behim? At my first glimpse of Fitzwilliam’s tall form entering the garden, I hastily stowed the letter in my pocket and leaped to my feet. I went towards him in a giddy, unladylike haste. But when the grim turn of his mien came into focus, my steps faltered, and my smile vanished: he appeared more reminiscent of the man who had insulted me at the Meryton assembly last autumn than the one with whom I had fallen in love.

Then the black band around his arm caught my notice. Goodness, what was wrong with me? How could I expect him to be joyous at our reunion when his poor cousin had perished mere days ago? It must have been trying for him to comfort Lady Catherine, who had lost her only child.

His dark irises settled upon me and softened. “Miss Bennet, it is a pleasure to see you again. You look very well.”

Miss Bennet?No doubt the loss of his cousin distracted him. I worked past the thickness in my throat. “Thank you, Fitzwilliam.I am gratified for your return, though I am very sorry for the loss of your cousin.”

“I appreciate that.”

“How does Lady Catherine fare?”

“She is, or will be, well. She is a formidable lady.”

“The past weeks must have been exceedingly difficult for you and your family.” My teeth closed upon my lower lip. I could not shake the impression another matter distressed him. “Is anything else weighing upon you?”

He swept his hand to the pathway. “May we walk towards the far end of the garden? I want to ensure we are not disturbed.”

“Yes, of course.” An inkling of foreboding slowed my steps as I obtained my gloves and bonnet from the bench. What could he have to say? We took the indicated route. Unlike the previous times we had walked here, he did not offer his arm. I tilted my head to view him. He took laboured steps beside me, as though each footfall exerted discomfort. His clothes seemed looser than before; he must have lost weight. A hint of shadow tainted the area beneath his eyes. “Are you ill?”

“No, I am not.”

“But I suspect you have had little sleep.” I put my hand on his upper arm.

He flinched and jerked from me.

With a silent gasp, I retracted my hand. He had never done anything like this before! What could it mean?

Fitzwilliam lifted his palm. “Please do not—I cannot do this if you touch me.”

A chill darted between my shoulder blades. “Please tell me what is wrong.”

He avoided my gaze. “If your sentiments towards me have altered—if you no longer want to marry me—I should not want you to feel obligated to fulfil our agreement.”

What?Why would he say this?

“Few people know of our understanding, so we could end it without any harm to your reputation. I shall respect your wishes, whatever they may be.”

How could he think I wanted to break our agreement? Could this misconception have originated from the baseless rumour in the papers? No, if he had formed any suspicions along those lines, Mr. Miles would have eliminated them. Why else would he have drawn this conclusion?

His declaration made no sense—unless… My stomach convulsed, and I attempted to pacify the spasms with measured breaths.Hisfeelings had altered. The fear I had buried in the murky recesses of my mind had been realised—he no longer wants to marry me. Nevertheless, he would not utter the words certain to pain me. Rather, he sought to preserve my dignity by allowing us to adopt the fiction thatIhad decided to end our understanding. How could this have happened? Had I done or said anything wrong on one of the last times we met?

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