“To think I encouraged you to woo her! I thought your intentions were honorable! A woman like that— She deserves far better—”
As Fitzwilliam ranted, Darcy reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a piece of paper. He laid it on the desk in front of his cousin. “What is this?” Fitzwilliam’s voice seethed with hostility.
“It is self-explanatory.”
Fitzwilliam read the paper. “What is this?” This time he sounded stupefied.
“It is a marriage license.”
“You got married?” Now his tone was bewildered.
“Yes, we were married in France. My friend Thomas Whitmore, an ordained clergyman, performed the ceremony. And before you think I was imposing my will on Elizabeth, the wedding was her idea. Well, it was my idea to get married, but she was set on doing it immediately.”
“But why?” Fitzwilliam sank into a chair, trying to absorb the information, anger draining away.
Darcy sighed. “For several reasons. She thought it would make it easier for us to travel since we had no ready chaperone. And, she believed the French would be less likely to imprison me if I were a newlywed.”
“What a clever woman. Was she correct?”
“Indeed. With creative theatrics she was able to convince some French soldiers not only that they should not separate a newly married couple, but that she was practically dying and could not return to England without me.”
Fitzwilliam chuckled. “She is brilliant! What an actress.”
Darcy’s expression darkened. “Yes, although…She almost did die, Richard. She almost died in France. I spent an entire night by her bedside believing that each breath might be her last.”
“Good Lord!”
Darcy nodded slowly. “That was the primary reason Elizabeth wanted to marry right away. The experience altered her perspective. She said we had waited long enough and she did not want to wait any longer.”
Fitzwilliam shook his head slowly. “I cannot believe this…You are married!”
Darcy nodded, experiencing relief at finally telling someone the truth. “The problem is that Elizabeth wanted to tell her father before anyone else knew. When we returned we were greeted with the news about her sister and Wickham – which means it is even more important to maintain secrecy. So—”
“So, you are a very frustrated man,” Fitzwilliam nodded knowingly.
“I think we are both frustrated with these circumstances,” Darcy smiled mirthlessly. “Still, it is preferable to living with the certainty that she hates me.”
Fitzwilliam laughed at the chagrin in his cousin’s voice. “So it turns out you were not the last man in the world after all. Quick work, Cuz.”
Darcy grinned ruefully. “I suppose not. I shall have to remind her of that.”
Fitzwilliam sobered. “I apologize for leaping to conclusions last night.”
Darcy shook his head. “It is understandable given what you saw. I am afraid I let my jealousy overcome my better nature. These last few days have been difficult.”
‘Well, it is not like she will run off and marry someone else.”
“Elizabeth reminded me of precisely that last night – rather forcefully.”
“I can imagine,” his cousin replied with a smile. “Now I am sorry I interrupted you.”
“So that was intentional!”
“Yes, Preston was passing by and, after I saw what was happening, I convinced him to take a turn on the terrace. I believed I was protecting what was left of Miss Bennet’s virtue.” He shrugged. “But it was probably the only time you have had alone in two days. Sorry.”
“Hmmpf,” Darcy grunted. “What I require is the means to separate Elizabeth from her aunt and uncle for a couple hours.”
Fitzwilliam gave a short laugh. “That would not be easy. I like her uncle, but he seems vigilant. That fortification might be too heavily guarded.”