Excerpt - Chapter 6
“You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this subject forever.”
Elizabeth, feeling all the more than common awkwardness and anxiety of his situation, now forced herself to speak.
“Mr Darcy, whatever my feelings in the matter, it is beyond my power to accept you. You do not know…you have only seen me as I am now…I shall never be a fit wife for any man, let alone one in your situation. I am an invalid. It is uncertain that I should live to see my thirtieth year, and I shall never bear children. Whilst I am honoured by your proposal, I could never consent to become Mrs Darcy—knowing I shall never bring honour to you or your name.”
“I would rather we not speak of honour, Miss Elizabeth. I have asked you to be my wife because I love you and because nothing would make me happier. Might you not consider my proposal on those terms?”
“Very well. On those terms I think you are mistaken. No one could derive happiness from seeing someone they love suffer, being powerless to help. That will be my fate, sir, and I would spare both of us the pain of it. For I should much rather meet my end without being forced to witness the suffering of my loved ones.”
“Your end? Good God, you speak as though it is upon you this very moment! You may live another ten years, if not more—”
“Or a great deal less!”
“Is that not reason enough, therefore, to make the very most of whatever time you have?”
“Yes, and I fully intend to do so! But I had much rather spend my time in peace and simple enjoyments than marry and disappoint you. For someone who used to see so clearly the obstacles to our union, Mr Darcy, you appear wantonly blind to them now. I could not spend a Season in town. I could not host dinners or balls. I could not visit your tenants or entertain your family. I am fit for nothing! And once you realised it, you would very quickly resent your choice.”
“I never would,” Mr Darcy intoned without hesitation in a voice of sincere emotion, and Elizabeth, who had been in full flow, was checked. “You are my choice to be my wife because I love you. Having you beside me would be all the happiness I should ever want from life. I should like nothing more than to spend our days at Pemberley. I do not think there is anyone’s company I would rather have more than yours.”
“Mr Darcy!” Elizabeth protested, much moved. “You do not play fair. I am trying to be sensible—to spare us both the heartache and the pain of disappointment and regret.”
“I think you are afraid, Elizabeth,” he countered, “and I do not blame you for that. The future must indeed feel terrifying and uncertain. But please, do not answer me now. I had not intended to speak to you of my intentions so soon, and I have no intention of pressing you to make a decision.”
“That is to say, you do not accept what I have said to you today as my final word,” Elizabeth retorted.
Mr Darcy smiled ruefully. “I do not wish to doubt you or imply that I question your convictions. Rather, I hope that, with time, you may come to view the matter differently.”
Elizabeth lapsed into thought and stared at the passing scenery. Mr Darcy waited patiently for her to reach a decision.
“Very well,” she conceded at last. “I can make no argument to that, and I should be an ungrateful wretch indeed not to feel the compliment of your persistence.”
“I go to such lengths only for you.”
“When we spoke that night at Netherfield about your stubbornness, I never suspected that one day I would regard it as a virtue.”
They shared a laughing look and, as they were arriving at their destination, began to speak of other things. The air between them might have been awkward, but strangely they both felt more at ease for having finally addressed the subject that had been hanging over them for so long. Elizabeth knew she had much thinking to do, and Mr Darcy was quietly persuaded that his persistence would one day bear fruit.
