Page 16 of Elizabeth Bennet Says Yes to Mr. Darcy

I did not answer.

He swore under his breath, then sat down across from me.

“I should have been more careful.”

“The fault is not yours. If one truth is enough to destroy an engagement, it is the engagement that was ill-founded.”

“She didn’t let you explain?”

“She will read my letter.”

“And then?”

I folded the pages.

“Then she will decide.”

“You speak as if you had no means of influencing that decision.”

“I want none that are not honest.”

He observed me with unusual gravity.

“You truly love her.”

I sealed the letter.

“Yes.”

“Then don’t give up before she’s had time to understand.”

“I’m not giving up on her. I’m giving up on constraining her.”

He didn’t know what to say.

I left Rosings on foot before Lady Catherine could demand my presence. Elizabeth was not on her usual path. I left the letter at the parsonage, then continued to the village under the pretext of needing to send correspondence.

In reality, I wanted to know what threatened the Bennets.

I could not question Mr. Collins. His indiscretion would have made any assistance humiliating and public. Mr. Bennet’s name appeared in none of the information I had. I decided to write to my man of business in London, asking him to discreetly investigate debts recently called in within Hertfordshire.

This inquiry might seem an intrusion. It was. But I could not remain inactive knowing that Elizabeth had considered sacrificing her future.

That evening, my aunt demanded that I dine with her. She spoke at length about the state of the roads, a neighbor’s poor management, and the marriage she had always envisioned between Anne and me. Each sentence reminded me that I had not yet announced my engagement and that I might never announce it.

Anne watched me from the other side of the table. Her pale face expressed a calm weariness. I wondered for the first time what she thought of the plan her mother had repeated since our childhood. Had she wished to marry me? Had she even believed she possessed the right to refuse?

Elizabeth had believed she did not possess it.

After dinner, I found an urgent reply from London that had arrived by express. My man of business, by good fortune, already knew of the matter. A creditor named Harcourt had acquired several obligations after the death of a certain Mr. Ellison. Among them was a guarantee signed by Thomas Bennet for five thousand pounds. Harcourt was seeking rapid repayment and threatening proceedings that could encumber Longbourn’s income.

I read the report twice.

Five thousand pounds was no small sum for the Bennets. For me, it was less than six months’ income.

I could purchase the debt the next day.

I took up a pen, then stopped.