Page 13 of Losing Lizzy
The woman bobbed a curtsey and scurried away, leaving Darcy standing in the foyer. Closing his eyes, he brought forth one of his favorite images of Elizabeth Bennet. She had walked him out to say her “good evenings.” It was the day she had agreed to his proposal, and they each had spoken to her father, seeking Mr. Bennet’s permission.
She stood before him, so close—too close for propriety’s sake, but still not close enough to sate his desires. Everything had been too recent for what could be called gaiety to mark their interactions, but the evening had passed tranquilly. They both realized, without discussing it, there was no longer anything material to be dreaded and the comfort of ease and familiarity would come in time.
“I shall speak to Mama this evening,” she had whispered, never looking away from his steady gaze. “We may tell everyone tomorrow.”
He had intertwined their fingers and had tugged her closer still. “It is enough to know we will spend our life together,” he said softly. “I adore you, Elizabeth Bennet.”
As was typical, she blushed, but she boldly rose upon her tiptoes and briefly kissed his lips. It was not the most passionate kiss they would share, nor was it the first time they had kissed, but it was the first kiss where they would share a brief moment of familiarity where she had initiated the action. “I look forward to being your wife, Fitzwilliam Darcy,” she had responded as she rested her forehead against his chest. “Very soon,” she had whispered, the heat of her mouth penetrating the fine lawn of his shirt. His heart had never known such happiness as at that moment.
“Mr. Darcy,” Mr. Bennet’s voice brought Darcy back to reality. “I understand youinsistupon speaking to me.”
Darcy nodded his agreement. “You do not appear surprised to learn I am not dead,” he accused.
Mr. Bennet’s frown deepened, as if the man had not considered that point previously. The man announced incontempt, “I have been unfortunate of late to have been the recipient of a bevy of callers from London.” The man turned on his heels to lead the way to his study. “Come along, and I will repeat to you what I told the others.”
Darcy did not like the idea that others searched for Elizabeth. He prayed she was not in danger because of him.
Once he and Bennet had closed the door behind them, Darcy said, “I wish to know where Elizabeth can be found.”
Mr. Bennet said with a snarl, “And I wish for five thousand a year, a sensible wife, and an heir to whom I might pass this estate. Most assuredly, our wishes are not happening for either of us.”
Darcy kept his tone even. He had expected Mr. Bennet’s anger. “Unless Elizabeth has exchanged vows with another, our betrothal remains in place. I mean to claim my bride.”
“You forfeited that right when you failed to appear for the exchange of vows. The license has expired by more than three years,” Bennet hissed.
“A new license can be procured,” Darcy stated plainly.
“Elizabeth despises you,” Bennet insisted.
Darcy smiled, recalling how he had suffered when Elizabeth Bennet disdained him above all others. “It shall not be the first time your daughter found fault with me. Yet, I am willing to risk her shrewish tongue for the opportunity to plead my case. Your daughter is of age, our coming together is no longer your choice.”
“It was not my choice when you appeared in this very room nearly four years ago. I permitted Elizabeth her say then, but I will advise her against another round of heartache with you if she asks.”
Darcy argued, “It was never my choice to leave Elizabeth on our wedding day. I was snatched off the streets of London and held captive aboard a ship sailing the southern hemisphere for more than three years.”
“So say you,” Bennet accused.
“Would you care to view the scars upon my back?” Darcygrowled. “I put up a fight in my attempts to return to your daughter’s side.”
“I do not care to view you or your uncle or your aunt upon my threshold ever again.” Bennet slammed his fist down hard upon the desk, sending papers scattering. “You and yours cost me my most precious gift. I have not known a day of peace since you stole away my darling Lizzy. My precious girl is lost to me—to her family forever. My other daughters possess no future, for they are marked by the shame you exacted upon my household.”
Darcy did not respond to Bennet’s accusations, for, on the whole, they were true. Instead, he persisted with his arguments. “It can all be set to right if you will simply tell me where Elizabeth has been sent. Permit your daughter to make the choice. Afterwards, I will assist you in finding well-placed husbands for the others.”
Bennet leaned forward to point his finger at Darcy. Vehemently, he gritted out his insult. “Why would I provide the likes of you with Elizabeth’s location? You did not honor her enough to leave her untouched for another to claim in your absence. I might have found her another husband, if not for you. She might have been able to accept Bingley or Sir William’s son, but no man wants another’s leavings. You ruined Elizabeth twice over.”
Darcy knew great shame at having succumbed to his lust, for he knew Elizabeth had suffered because of their impetuous actions; however, he did not regret those few cherished moments. The memory of Elizabeth in his embrace had sustained him in his darkest hours. He did not respond: Bennet was in no mood for an apology. Rather, he returned to his previous argument. “Elizabeth can decide if she will forgive me. All I require is her location.”
“As I told Lord Matlock when he offered me six thousand pounds to use as dowries for Jane, Mary, and Kitty, I do not know where Elizabeth has settled. When I took her into my embrace on the day she departed Longbourn, it was the last time we spoke. I do not know whether she is dead or alive,” Bennet said on anangry sob.
Darcy was concerned as to why Matlock wanted to know of Elizabeth’s whereabouts, but he did not speak his fears to Mr. Bennet. If Matlock expected Darcy to fall in line by issuing a threat to Elizabeth, his uncle would be sadly mistaken. Matlock would soon know Darcy’s wrath. “Not even a letter?” he asked.
“It was decided it would be best if no one knew of Elizabeth’s new life. Mrs. Bennet could not be trusted with the tale, and Elizabeth thought it best for her sisters if they were not placed in a position to choose between her and their futures. Every vestige of Elizabeth’s existence as part of this family has been removed from Longbourn, except her name in the family Bible. The idea rips my heart out.” Tears formed in Mr. Bennet’s eyes.
“Elizabeth turned one and twenty in the months following what occurred after our wedding day. She can conduct her own business. The settlement I arranged for her is in her hands now.”
“None of that matters,” Bennet declared with a sad shake of his head. “I cannot assist you, Darcy.”
“Cannot or will not?” Darcy demanded.
