Page 45 of Leave Her Wild
Oddly, now it was the lady who frowned. “There is something I must confess, Mr. Darcy. Afterwards, it will be I who must ask for forgiveness. As you likely suspect, I accepted your hand in marriage in order to save my mother and sisters, but . . .” She smiled then, and a slight giggle escaped. “You see, I was quite taken with Mr. Bingley, from the beginning of our acquaintance. Therefore, though it is selfish of me, I must do what is best required for each of us. I am asking you to release me from my obligation to you. I truly wish to marry Mr. Bingley, and you wish to marry . . .”
“Your sister, Elizabeth,” he said with a smile. “Has Bingley spoken his wishes?”
“Not in so many words, for he still values your friendship,” she claimed.
“Present him with my blessings,” Darcy instructed.
“You should know, Elizabeth is at this moment packing her belongings. If you mean to speak to her, you should do so sooner rather than later.”
“Will she come to me? I have not seen her for the last two days, not since I woke from my fever. If necessary, I will attempt to rise from this bed,” he told her.
“I shall think of something,” Miss Bennet assured. “You will do your best to make Elizabeth happy, will you not?”
Darcy smiled. “Has your sister told you that she and I danced once years ago when she came to London with your Grandmother Gardiner?”
“No, but Mary finally confessed when I was so worried about Elizabeth’s need to tend to you.”
“I was an . . . well, I should not say the word before a lady,” though he knew full well he had said it before Miss Elizabeth, but that particular lady was not cut from the same cloth as was her elder sister. Elizabeth Bennet was exemplary in Darcy’s opinion. “But Miss Elizabeth’s essence has never left me. Like it or not, and I assure you I did not much like it for many years, your sister is the model by which I evaluated all others I encountered.”
“I am glad you admitted your unfair behavior directed towards Elizabeth, and I pray it shan’t happen again. Your confession also explains why I would always have been second best in your estimation: Elizabeth was formed from a one-of-a-kind mold.” She curtsied then. “I must send Elizabeth to you and wait for Mr. Bingley’s arrival.”
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Jane burst into Elizabeth’s quarters. “Come quick! Mr. Darcy’s fever is raging again! I did not know what to do!”
“It cannot be!” Elizabeth declared as she dropped a day dress over her head and tugged it in place. She fumbled with the laces. “Fix these!” she demanded. “How high was the fever?”
Jane quickly laced the strings. “I could not tell with any confidence.”
“Did you check his forehead? Surely, if you are to marry the man, you could touch his cheeks or his forehead, Jane. Whatwill you do when your children are ill?” Elizabeth said with a sad shake of her head. Her hair was still down and her boots were sitting by the bed, with her only in her stocking feet, but she ignored both as she shoved her way past Jane, saying, “Tell Mr. Sheffield we will require more lavender water.”
She quickly dashed through the hallway, skirt’s hem hiked so as not to trip over it. Bursting through the open door, she was brought up short. “What?” She glanced back to the way she had come to find Jane and Mary closing the door to Mr. Darcy’s suite behind her. “You arranged all this?” she accused as she pointed a finger at Mr. Darcy.
“Actually, it was your sisters’ idea, but I did not object,” Mr. Darcy said with a smile.
“I should . . . I should . . .” she began. In her opinion, Mr. Darcy’s countenance still showed traces of the past sennight: Hollow eyes and a bit of sadness marked his expression, while bits of hope had sneaked past her guard.
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He looked at her for a long moment. She had obviously withdrawn into the invisible armor of protection she often employed. “Should I bother to check your head for a fever, Mr. Darcy?” she demanded.
“I prefer when you call me ‘William,’” he corrected. “Whispering my name in my ear.” Something in his voice must have forced her eyes upon him, and Darcy claimed his moment. “Your sister has thrown me over for Mr. Bingley,” he began.
“He is more amiable than are you,” she declared.
“He would bore you, Elizabeth Bennet,” he countered. “You prefer a challenge.”
“And you do not?” she demanded.
“Obviously, I do. I prefer you.”
She crossed her arms over her chest in a protective stance. “Do you mean to profess your affection to all the Bennet sisters, Mr. Darcy?”
“No. I never professed my affection to Miss Bennet—I only promised her a bargain of equal weight,” he corrected.
“I always knew why Jane accepted your proposal, but I never understood why you were so intent on marrying so quickly,” she said as she stepped closer.
Darcy knew it was time for the truth. “I must have an heir by my thirtieth birthday or a distant cousin may claim a large portion of Pemberley land—the part we have been meticulously developing for years. It would set my plans for Pemberley’s future back by at least ten years.”
