Page 19 of A Forced Marriage
With that thought, Darcy finally drifted into sleep, the image of Elizabeth Bennet lingering in his mind, as much a source of conflict as it was of a strange, newfound determination.
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When Elizabeth entered her bedchamber, she found Jane already waiting, sitting on the edge of the bed, her face gloomy with pity. Elizabeth closed the door behind her with a sigh, already feeling the weight of the conversation she knew they were about to have.
Jane rose as Elizabeth began to unbutton her gown. "Lizzy," she said gently, her voice laced with worry, "I’ve been waiting for you. I couldn’t sleep, not knowing how you were after everything that has happened tonight."
Elizabeth offered her sister a small, weary smile as she continued to undress. "I suppose it has been quite the evening," she replied, her tone light, though the gravity of the situation was far from lost on her. She carefully laid her gown over the back of a chair and began to change into her nightwear.
Jane watched her sister with soft eyes, wringing her hands in her lap. "Lizzy, there must be some other way. You shouldn’t have to marry Mr. Darcy if your heart is not in it. Perhaps we could write to Aunt Gardiner and Uncle—they might persuade Mama and Papa to reconsider."
Elizabeth slipped on her nightdress, her movements slow and deliberate as she considered Jane's words. "I will write to them, Jane," she said finally, "but not to ask for their intervention. I will write to inform them of my impending marriage." She let out a wry chuckle, though it was clear her heart was not in it. "Who would have thought I would marry before you? And to Mr. Darcy, of all people."
Tears rolled down Jane’s eye, and she moved closer, grasping Elizabeth’s hands. "Lizzy, you don’t have to do this. Please, don’t feel as though you must sacrifice your happiness for the sake of the family. I am sure Mr. Darcy could explain things to Mr. Bingley, and the rumours would be dispelled."
Elizabeth squeezed her sister’s hands, but she gently shook her head. "Oh, Jane, always so quick to believe the best in everyone. But this isn’t just about me. Think of Kitty, Lydia, and Mary. A scandal could ruin all of their prospects as well."
She walked over to the dressing table and began brushing out her hair, her movements brisk, as though she could brush away the burden of her situation along with the tangles inher hair. "No, Jane, this is something I must do—for the family, for our future."
Jane looked down, her heart heavy with the weight of her sister’s words. "But Lizzy," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "must you bear this burden alone?"
Elizabeth paused in her brushing and turned to face her sister, her expression resolute. "Yes, Jane, I must. And I will." She managed a smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Now, you should go to bed. You need your rest, and I will be just fine."
Jane hesitated, her concern evident, but she nodded and rose to leave. She embraced Elizabeth tightly before heading to the door. "If you need anything, Lizzy, I am here for you."
"I know," Elizabeth replied softly, watching as Jane left the room.
Once the door closed behind her sister, Elizabeth turned back to the mirror, staring at her reflection with a troubled heart. Her father’s words from earlier echoed in her mind, and a small seed of doubt began to take root. Had she been too quick to judge Mr. Darcy? Could there have been more to Mr. Wickham’s story than she had first believed?
She shook her head, unwilling to dwell on the possibility. "No," she whispered to herself. "I know what I saw. Mr. Darcy is proud, aloof, and far too full of his own importance."
Elizabeth reached into one of the drawers and retrieved a small bottle of ointment. With careful hands, she applied it to her sprained leg, suppressing a wince as the balm touched her tender skin. Once her task was done, she returned the ointment to its place. When she settled into bed, her thoughts remained unsettled, refusing to be calmed. Her father's gentle words lingered in her mind, urging her to view Mr. Darcy in a more generous light. Could it be that she had misjudged him? Thequestion troubled her, and despite her best efforts, she found no easy answer.
Elizabeth sighed, pulling the covers up to her chin, while resolving not to let her uncertainty get the better of her. She would do what was needed to be done, for the sake of her family, even if it meant sacrificing her own happiness. Yet as she closed her eyes, the thought of Mr. Darcy’s intense gaze and the softness of his touch when he held her swirled up in her mind, leaving her more unsettled than ever before.
Chapter 11
The following morning, Mr. Darcy sat at the desk in his room. The events of the previous day weighed heavily on his mind, and he felt a pressing need to communicate them to his sister. He found some ink and a quill with which he began to compose a letter to Georgiana, detailing the circumstances that had led him to his unexpected decision—a decision that he was certain would undoubtedly surprise her.
As he started writing, Darcy paused, contemplating whether to pen a similar letter to his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. However, the thought of her inevitable disapproval, her sure-to-be lengthy diatribe against such a match, and her attempts to thwart his decision led him to delay the communication. He decided to inform her only when the event was inevitable, trusting that a few days' notice would minimize the uproar that was sure to follow.
With measured strokes, he began to write to his sister:
"My dearest Georgiana,
I trust this letter finds you in good health and spirits. I should have written sooner, but unforeseen circumstances prevented me. It is with some urgency that I must acquaint you with news of a rather unexpected nature. I have resolved, perhaps more hastily than is my wont, to enter into matrimony with a young lady by the name of Miss Elizabeth Bennet, here in Meryton.
I am well aware that this may come as a surprise to you, particularly as my time in this town has been brief. However, I am confident that, upon your acquaintance with Miss Bennet, you shall find her to be a lady of considerable wit, intelligence, and vivacity—qualities which, I believe, shall commend her to your favour. The circumstances necessitate that our union be arranged with some dispatch, and I shall, of course, provide you with further particulars as our plans take shape.
I must entreat you, my dear sister, to keep this news in the strictest confidence, particularly from our aunt. You are well aware of her cherished hopes regarding my union with our cousin Anne, and I would prefer to delay any discord that might arise from her objections. Rest assured, I shall write to you again shortly with more information.
Yours ever,
Fitzwilliam Darcy"
Satisfied with his missive, Darcy sealed the letter and placed it on his desk for later dispatch. His mind still burdened with thoughts, he descended to the breakfast room, where Mr. Bingley awaited him with a kind expression.
"Good morning, Darcy," Bingley greeted him warmly. "I trust you slept well after the tumult of yesterday?"
