Page 26 of Leave Her Wild
“Miss Elizabeth has no longer permitted herself a dream of family and friends and children. She would no longer permit herself to hope for a husband, for she simply sought her fate and accepted it.”
Yet, in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth sings hymns at heaven’s gate;
“Such is why she takes solace in climbing Oakham Mount. She climbs the hill to remember her dreams—perhaps parts of which still involve you. What if I had not been too shy to speak to her that evening? Assuredly, neither of us would have been mature enough to claim more than a friendship at the time, but had not my own mother and father written to each other for more than three years before Mr. George Darcy was brave enough to present himself to his ‘darling Lady Anne,’ an earl’s daughter?”
For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
“Those last lines speak to my parents’ marriage, but I fear they will never speak to my and Miss Bennet’s joining.”
“I have chosen the wrong sister,” he murmured.
“Pardon, Darcy,” his cousin said. “Did you say something? You have been quite lost to your thoughts this evening, Cousin.”
Darcy glanced around the room and realized they were alone. He sighed heavily. “I did not even notice the withdrawal of the Bennets,” he admitted.
“They still keep country hours,” Fitzwilliam said as he finished off his wine.
Darcy chuckled. “Generally, so do I.”
“What bothers you?” the colonel asked.
Darcy remained silent for nearly a minute. “Do you recall the ball right after I came out of grieving for my father?”
“Not particularly,” Fitzwilliam admitted.
“The one where Miss Allthorpe was caught with a torn dress in the garden with Mr. Enslow,” Darcy prompted.
The colonel nodded, “The one where our hostess led you to dance with the young lady straight up from the country. We all suspected there was still mud under her nails.”
“Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy said simply.
His cousin looked off to the passageway, as if he expected someone to be there, but no one was in sight. “Impossible,” the colonel declared. “Miss Elizabeth is one of the most interesting women I have ever encountered, and I would place her in the ranks of those of my mother’s caliber.”
“The country pumpkin,” Darcy said with regret. “I never gave her the opportunity to be more than a ‘girl’ in a godawful gown that did nothing for the promise of her figure.”
“Have you apologized to her?” his cousin asked.
“No, I permitted her to rant at my insensitivity instead. She deserved a moment to bring me down more than a few pegs. An apology would never suffice. My obstinacy has not only haunted her—her only ball—her only dance at anything other than a country assembly—and I ruined it all for her. Now, she means to be the one who serves as the surrogate son for herfather, the playful aunt to all her nieces and nephews, and nurse to her mother’s supposed ‘illnesses.’”
“It would assuredly be a sin against God to hide the lady’s light in such a manner,” his cousin observed. “If I was in a position to inherit the estate in Oxfordshire soon, I might consider extending my hand to Miss Elizabeth. I know she possesses no dowry of which to speak, but she would be invaluable on an estate. Of course, that is not speaking to her fairness of face or her quick mind. I could assuredly do worse.”
Darcy did not enjoy his cousin’s evaluation, but he had no right to protest. Instead, he said, “We should be on the road early. Will you still be able to stand up with me? The wedding will take place at ten next Thursday.”
“Unless I receive orders elsewhere,” Fitzwilliam declared as he stood and stretched. “You realize both the earl and Aunt Catherine will know great umbrage if they are not invited.”
“I have enough on my mind,” Darcy declared as he also stood. “I want as little fanfare as possible regarding this marriage.”
“And is Miss Bennet equally as satisfied with a simple country wedding? It seems a woman in her position would wish for a London wedding to provide her sisters a leg up in society.”
Darcy’s irritation could no longer be contained. “How would I know what the lady wishes? The future Mrs. Darcy has, as far as I can see, no genuine opinions of her own. I can have an equally stimulating conversation with that vase of flowers yonder.”
