Page 80 of To Love And To Cherish
“No,” she answered softly.
He frowned. “Then I do not understand your reasons for hesitating.”
She regarded him with incredulity. “You would have me decide the course of my entire future upon so little warning? You’ve had ample time to consider your position. Have I no right to the same? Mr. Darcy, I do not even know if you truly respect me. I could not bear to marry a man who thought little of my worth.”
He looked chastened. “I had not planned to leave Scotland without some understanding between us. In fact, Miss Bennet, I had hoped that we would be married here, within the next week or so.”
Elizabeth’s cheeks burned. “You wish to be married within the next week?”
Darcy’s gaze was unreadable. “When Georgiana shared your last letter with me, I realized how deeply I missed your company, how much I valued it, and that I could not imagine life without you in it.”
She blinked. “Your sister shared my letter with you?”
“Yes,” he reached into his pocket and drew it out. “But my feelings are not new. When I saw you again last night, I knew I could no longer deny what was in my heart. I cannot say precisely when I decided to make you an offer. The decision crept upon me gradually, but being in your company confirmed it.”
As unnerving as the conversation was, Elizabeth found it oddly compelling. She had misunderstood so much about him.
“And if I accept your offer? What then?”
“I had hoped we might marry here, in Scotland, and then return to Longbourn to sign the marriage settlements.”
He looked at her steadily. “How long do you believe you will need?”
“I truly do not know,” she admitted. “But if you would give me a few days to know my mind, I believe I will better understand my sentiments. I am flummoxed, sir, and feel the need to reflect.”
He bowed. “Very well.”
With a softened expression, he said, “I am sorry I wasn’t more open with my sentiments. But until I was certain of my intentions, I did not wish to behave in a way that might give rise to expectations that I could not fulfill.”
“I understand,” she said. “You behaved as a gentleman should.”
He looked into her eyes. “I hope to leave you in no doubt of my love, if you should accept me.”
The intensity of his gaze made her cheeks flame. He stepped back with a sigh.
“Miss Bennet, I shall keep my distance until you are ready to give me your answer. Today, I shall ride out to Ellan House and remain there for the rest of the week, so that you may have the solitude you desire. I’ll make my excuses to Adam and be gone before you come down to breakfast.”
He pressed her hand gently in his, then departed.
Elizabeth spent the day with Miss Trent and Miss King. When the gentlemen returned from their hunt, she excused herself and claimed a headache. She ate her dinner in her room.
She could not face Adam Frazier, knowing she loved Mr. Darcy, and that he returned her affection and had, in fact, asked for her hand in marriage. The man she had secretly loved for six years had proposed. It was a moment she had never dared imagine, and even now, she could scarcely believe it.
That night, she sat up late, her thoughts restless and at war. She loved him, of that she was certain. But could she believe he truly loved her in return? That he respected her? He had enumerated all the reasons he had resisted marriage to her. Ought she protect them both from a union that might one day be a source of regret?
His insult at the Meryton assembly was forgiven, though still regrettable. And the pain she had carried from his abrupt silence, his long cessation of letters, was softened now by the knowledge that he had been serving his country in secret, unable to write.
The bitterness she had nursed fell away.
He had united Jane and Mr. Bingley. He had persuaded her mother to relinquish her schemes to force her to marry Mr. Collins. And now he had offered her everything.
She had never had power over a man. What must it mean to hold the happiness of a wealthy gentleman like Mr. Darcy in one’s hands?
Darcy, too, sat up late.
It was not the first night he had done so. Only the night before, he had paced his room, mind stormed by doubt and pride. He had resolved to speak, but his pride whispered of humiliation. Of impropriety. Of the danger to his name, his family, his blood.
He frowned. Did Elizabeth not love him? He had never courted her affection, never given her cause to believe he loved her, and therefore, he could not expect her to return a sentiment she had never known he possessed.
