Page 5 of Courting Elizabeth

I could have refused. I had many reasons to. Jane. His manner at Meryton. His evident contempt for my family. The stories that had fed my poor opinion of him. Every memory had surfaced while he spoke. I had felt the words of refusal forming—incisive, just, almost delicious.

Then I had thought of Longbourn.

Of the letter I had received three days earlier, in which my mother described with her usual lightness a new pain in my father's chest. He had mocked the general concern and refused to consult the Meryton physician any longer. The episode was probably nothing serious. Yet for the first time, I had seen with cruel clarity what would happen if he died.

Mr Collins would take possession of the house.

My mother and sisters would depend on marriages still uncertain, on the impossible task of stretching five thousand pounds among five daughters, and on the help of relations who already had their own burdens. Jane could hope to marry the man she loved, if that man found the courage to return. Mary had no prospects. Kitty did not yet understand the threat. Lydia, who had just turned eighteen, treated it as one more reason to enjoy the present.

I had always sworn never to marry a man without loving him.

The world had never promised me this requirement would be reasonable. It was mine alone, born as much from my affection for Jane as from my horror of my parents' marriage. I wanted to laugh with the man who would share my life. I wanted to esteem him enough not to seek refuge in another room every day.

At Hunsford, I did not love Mr Darcy.

But he was not indifferent to me.

I hated to admit it. His glances had troubled me before I understood why. His presence irritated me because I noticed it. The way he occupied a room, his silence, that severe attention he fixed on me—all of it had followed me even on my walks. At Rosings, I knew when he entered without needing to turn my head. I felt his gaze on my neck, on my hands, on my face.

His love was real, powerful, almost frightening. Perhaps I had based part of my judgment on incomplete facts. Perhaps my anger would subside if he repaired the wrong done to Jane. Perhaps this man who had just allowed himself to be contradicted possessed more humility than he knew how to show.

These perhapses had been enough.

The door opened before I could gather my thoughts. Charlotte entered, removed her gloves, and stopped when she saw me.

“Lizzy? You are very pale.”

“It was raining. I didn't dare go out.”

“Rain doesn't usually stop you from walking.”

I let out a brief laugh.

Charlotte set her bonnet on the table, frowning suddenly.

“Mr Darcy was here.”

It was not a question. She had always observed more than she let on.

“Yes.”

“And something happened.”

I stood, then sat down again at once. My legs felt less steady than they had minutes before.

“Charlotte, he asked me to marry him.”

My friend did not move.

“Mr Darcy.”

“The very same. With all the modesty he’s known for.”

“And you refused him.”

I looked at the fire.

“No.”