So Material a Change-Excerpt from Amy D’Orazio

Many apologies to those who left comments on the last post! I did not reply to you so allow me to tell you now how much I enjoyed those comments!

For those who have not had a chance to read the other two posts you may find them here:

Chapter One

Chapter Two, Part 1

…. and here comes chapter 2 part 2! Hope you enjoy! So Material a Change is presently available for preorder, and will release October 11!

The Excerpt

When they had gone a reasonable distance from the house, he spoke.

“Elizabeth, I find myself in a position where it is necessary for us to marry.”

Shock caused her to stumble, and she tightened her grip on his arm to steady herself. This made Mr Darcy flash a brief smile at her—did he think she did it purposely? 

“I know this might seem surprising to you, and indeed it is to me as well. I could never have supposed that I would offer for a lady of such low origins, humble breeding, and lack of fortune. However, I wish to assure you that although you bring little to the marriage, I have no intention of regarding you as any less because of it. As Mrs Darcy, you will want for nothing, and you will have no cause to repine.”

He detailed his concerns over her lack of connexion in society and the recent behaviour of her family, and how he hoped to enlist the help of his aunt, Lady Matlock, to guide her into acceptance among the ton. The only thing he said which was not offensive was that Miss Darcy had wished for a sister for some time. No wonder! The poor thing is probably desperate for amiable company. 

Mr Darcy concluded by expressing some thoughts on the futures of Kitty and Lydia. “Naturally, with our marriage, I must think of all your sisters as I do my own. It must be said that the behaviour shown by your younger sisters—and yes, sometimes even your mother—would not be acceptable outside of Meryton. For your sisters, I suggest we employ a companion or governess, someone who can truly take them in hand and mould them into proper young ladies. Or perhaps sending them to school would be better? What are your thoughts?”

He turned to look at her, and she realised belatedly that she was regarding him with her mouth hung agape. She closed it immediately. Inasmuch as she had no idea what could have led to the scene in the breakfast room earlier, she certainly had no expectation of anything like this.

“I apologise; I seem to have got ahead of myself.”

At long last, Elizabeth found her voice. “Indeed! For a moment, it sounded as though you believed we were engaged.”

Mr Darcy began to guide them to a more secluded part of the garden. “Yes. To put it simply, we must marry.”

Elizabeth felt her cheeks flush as she struggled to suppress the wild giggles which threatened. Surely the man was not serious? However, when in her limited experience of him had he ever told a joke? Yet the offensiveness of his speech—it was all too absurd to be considered anything but a folly. 

“Alas, Mr Darcy, I do not wish to marry you. So any further discussion of wedding plans—or of your very generous concerns for my sisters—is unneeded.”

“Not marry me?” He favoured her with a puzzled look. “I can and will give you more than you have ever imagined in terms of wealth and consequence, and I daresay you will be the envy of nearly every woman in England. Do you not realise what a match you will have made in accepting my suit?”

The envy of every woman in England? Good Lord, the pride of this man is beyond the pale. 

“Mr Darcy, I cannot decide whether I have gone mad or you have. By the looks of you”—he truly does look quite fatigued and distressed—“my inclination is to guess that it is you.”

“I do not see how my offer is ridiculous or mad. I wish to marry you. Surely you recognise the compliment I pay you with the declaration of my affections?”

Tugging her hand free from his arm, she turned to depart, her good humour turning to vexation. Nevertheless, she managed to be composed and polite. “Mr Darcy, of course I shall not marry you. You and I do not even like each other. We argue incessantly, and that speech you just gave was so offensive, I would not agree to your offer if you were the Prince Regent himself. Now, if you will excuse me, I must bid you good day.” She turned and began to move away from him. 

“Wait!” he cried, sounding panicked. “Elizabeth! Stop! You simply must marry me!”

“No, Mr Darcy, I must not, and I shall not. I also must insist that you cease referring to me in such a familiar manner. I have overlooked it thus far, but will continue to do so no longer.”

“Eliz—Miss Elizabeth, please, a moment, I beg of you. Please just listen to me, listen to what I intend for you, and then you will see it is in your best interests to marry me.” 

Elizabeth pressed her lips together and turned back to face him. She took the smallest of steps in his direction. “You have five minutes, Mr Darcy, and then I shall return to the house.”

“Five minutes? Very well.” Mr Darcy’s countenance took on the appearance of determination. He gestured to a nearby bench where they might sit and even dusted it off with his handkerchief before she sat. 

He spoke quickly and confidently once he had seated himself. “You have likely heard the rumours of my income, ten thousand pounds a year. It is a good deal more than that. Pemberley alone brings in more, and I have had considerable success in my investments in the past five years. Thus, your future will be quite secure, as will that of your family.”

“I am not overly concerned about my family,” she replied airily. “My mother tells me the man who is heir to Longbourn will come soon to visit and intends to select a bride from among my sisters. If that is indeed so, my mother, my sisters, and I shall have no cause for concern for we shall always have our home at Longbourn.” 

He gave her a sceptical look. “Surely you would not wish to be always at Longbourn?”

“I never said I intended, or even wished, to marry him; however, his marriage to one of us would necessarily secure the rest. However, I also must add that Longbourn and Hertfordshire, in general, are lovely places to live. You might think this neighbourhood beneath your notice, but I assure you, sir, I am quite happy and comfortable. Spending the remainder of my days here would certainly be no hardship to me.” 

“Of course,” he said hastily. “I only meant that with such a lively mind as yours, I believed you would appreciate the opportunity to see more of the country, spend more time in London, perhaps, with its opportunities for experiencing the theatre, the museums, the opera. Derbyshire is also a very agreeable place to live. The Peaks and the Lake District are both an easy distance—we would often go, I am certain.”

He gave her a searching look; no doubt he hoped he had tempted her in some way, but she kept her face carefully blank.

“Being the mistress of Pemberley would suit you. ’Tis a large estate; I am not even entirely certain how many servants we employ. We are the first family in the district, and you would be much sought after as my wife.”

Elizabeth sniffed and looked at her hands, “Seems like quite a lot of work. I might prefer to marry a gentleman with a small estate, or perhaps even someone in trade. The wives of such men have far fewer demands on their time.”

He cast a quick look heavenward before he continued. “You would never need to worry for pin money or anything of that nature. I shall ensure you have more than you could ever spend. You can shop every day and buy thirty, forty, fifty gowns if you wish; I would never speak a word against it. You will have anything your heart should desire.”

With a sigh, Elizabeth rose, once again set to leave. “Mr Darcy, it is clear that you know me but little if you believe such things will promote your suit. I do not like shopping and undertake it only by necessity. To have to select so many gowns—to say nothing of all the fittings! It would be nothing short of torturous.”

“Think of what marrying me would mean for you and your family. The Darcy name has a long and illustrious history; my grandfather was an earl! Anything you desired would be yours, anything at all.”

“If any of that was what I sought in a marriage partner, be assured, I would have accepted you without hesitation. However, I have lived for twenty years now as the daughter of a gentleman of little consequence, and I am exceedingly happy to remain that way.”

Elizabeth began to move towards the house but not fast enough to miss hearing Mr Darcy mutter, “The one woman in all of England who would not leap at the chance to be mistress of Pemberley, and I have the luck to need to marry her. Any other lady, I would already be speaking to her father.”

She turned back to him, one hand on her hip. “I beg your pardon?”

“You simply must marry me.”

“No,” she replied emphatically. “No, I must not.” 

Elizabeth began again to walk at a quick pace, and he leapt to his feet, drawing abreast of her just as she said, “If you are suddenly so eager to marry, I wonder that you do not simply propose to Miss Bingley. Certainly each of the things you have mentioned is of great interest to her. I do not believe you would be required to discuss many details before she agreed.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw him give a slight shudder which made her smile a little. Although slight, it was enough to encourage him.

“If marriage to a wealthy gentleman with a large estate and fortune, and all the status and fine things that come with that, are not to your liking, tell me what it is you do want. I assure you, I shall see to it.”

“It is not so easy as that.”

“Name it, and it will be yours,” he vowed earnestly. 

“What I wish for can be neither bought nor sold.”

“Ah,” said Mr Darcy immediately, “you wish for love.”

“Does that seem so terribly absurd to you? It seems very reasonable to me that the person I should choose to spend my life with, to leave my family for, should love me, and I, him. And, by the way, for all the dreadful things you think of them, they do nevertheless love me deeply and have cared for me well these twenty years. So that is six people who love me dearly that you wish me to relinquish in order to become the wife of one person to whom I am merely tolerable. That seems a poor trade, does it not?”

“I hold you in great esteem, and what is more, I respect and admire you,” Mr Darcy informed her. 

Elizabeth raised her brow at him to communicate her doubt. “Come now, Mr Darcy, I am not a fool. There are no two people less suited than you and I, as evidenced by the fact that we have done nothing but argue since the day we met.”

“I thought you did so to draw my notice.”

A gasp of laughter escaped her. “Surely not.”

“You would be astonished at the varied arts ladies employ to court a man’s favour. Arguing is not common, but neither is it unheard of.”

“I argue with you because I disagree with much of what you say.”

At this, the conversation seemed to reach a standstill, and they walked silently for a short while. Elizabeth stole several glances at him as they walked. His face bore an expression she concluded was a mixture of confusion and sorrow. 

“Sir, I cannot imagine what has compelled you to offer for me today, but I implore you to consider the very likely possibility that I do you a great favour by refusing you.”

“No, I assure you, I want—”

“You made it amply clear on the evening you first saw me that I was not handsome enough to tempt you. Since that time, we have done nothing but draw swords, so evidently our temperaments are ill-suited. And, as has already been stated very clearly, I am nothing but a liability to you so far as fortune and connexions are concerned. There is nothing that speaks in favour of this union.”

With quiet stubbornness, Mr Darcy replied, “I think we are quite well suited actually.”

Elizabeth heaved a sigh. “Mr Darcy, please—”

He interjected quickly. “As it happens, I think you are among the most handsome women of my acquaintance.” 

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. 

“I only said what I did at the assembly because Bingley was plaguing me and I…but never mind that. It was untrue, and exceedingly rude of me to say it, and I should have apologised to you the minute I suspected that you overheard me. I pray you would accept my humblest apology.”

“Thank you. Nevertheless, I…well, we simply could not be happy together.”

He stopped walking then and stared at her. His eyes were dark with…pain? Anxiety? “So you are truly refusing me then? You will not, under any circumstances, consider my offer?”

She reached out, laying her hand on his arm. “This is madness! We are not well suited, and although you are confident in your ability to offer me great things, I do not think I can offer you happiness, which appears to me to be exactly what you need most.”

His expression changed then from sorrow to frustration and then anger. He turned his head, muttering some soft imprecation. Elizabeth’s brows shot upwards in an expression of displeasure, and he apologised immediately. 

Elizabeth put her hands on her hips. “There is something you are not telling me here. To have such a sudden and violent desire to marry me—tell me what is behind all of this.”

He studied her intently for a moment and then, quite inexplicably, a slow smile spread across his face. “I should have known you would not accept anything less than the truth.” 

He indicated a path that would deviate from their current route back to the house, wordlessly asking her permission to digress. She nodded her assent. 

They walked for a few minutes, the only sound the crunching of the fallen leaves on the path beneath their feet. At length, Mr Darcy said, “You might have noticed that Miss Bingley is in pursuit of me.” 

Elizabeth laughed, and he looked at her quickly, frowning. She pressed her lips together to stop her mirth, then said soberly, “I had indeed noticed that, sir.”

“She has made no disguise of the fact that she wishes to be Mrs Darcy. She cares nothing for me, of course; it is just my fortune and the status afforded by my name that she wants. She has grown increasingly forward over the years, but last night, she did something I could not have imagined any gently bred woman doing.”

Mr Darcy was red cheeked, and he would not look at her, his eyes fixed on the ground beneath them. As he seemed disinclined to continue, Elizabeth prompted him. “What did she do?”

“Um, well…it was…she tried…” He shot her an embarrassed look and then returned his eyes to the ground. 

Elizabeth bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to laugh. “She made an attempt on your virtue?”

He muttered, “I suppose you could say that.”

She swallowed the laugh which wanted to burst forth. “How did she do that exactly?”

Stiffly, he said, “I would not wish to embarrass you with the details.” 

When she was sure she would not giggle, Elizabeth said, “Oh, that sounds quite scandalous. I am certain that the reality could not be nearly as bad as what I might imagine.”

Mr Darcy frowned a moment before shaking his head with a little laugh. “Very well, I shall tell you, but do not say I did not try to spare you. Last night as I slept, she entered my room wearing a revealing nightgown and got into my bed. She woke me by…let your imagination do what it will, but suffice it to say, I awoke quickly and removed myself with as much haste as possible.”

“That is indeed”—Elizabeth disguised a laugh as a cough—“quite dreadful and shocking.”

“I fled, leaving Miss Bingley in my chamber, and went to Bingley. I explained to him the truth of what had happened. I do not know what he does and does not believe, but the fact of the matter is that his sister was in my bed. How she got there is immaterial.”

“Did Mr Bingley demand an offer for his sister’s hand? Or shall we have a duel here later?”

“Bingley wanted me to offer for his sister but…I explained I could not, because…”

It took a moment for her to understand his meaning. “Because you are promised to another.” 

He nodded.

She closed her eyes a moment, her former good humour fleeing at the same rate that, no doubt, Mr Darcy had fled Miss Bingley. “So our supposed engagement prevents you from being engaged to Miss Bingley.”

“Yes,” Mr Darcy said quietly. “I realise it is a terrible position to put you in.”

“Terrible?” she exclaimed. “Terrible does not begin to describe it. Firstly, it is a lie. Secondly, this is your problem, not mine! How could you involve me in such a scheme? And then divulge it to Mr Bingley?”

“And the Hursts.” 

“That makes it even worse! What did you suppose? That I was simply yours for the asking? Nay, you did not even ask! You…you…” 

Beholding his expression, she stopped berating him. She had never seen him in such misery, and it quieted her tongue. Elizabeth took a deep breath to calm herself. She pressed her hand across her eyes and lowered her head, thankful for the soothing chill of the autumn air. 

“Would being married to Miss Bingley truly be so dreadful?” 

In lieu of an answer, he simply cocked a brow at her, and ruefully she admitted, “Silly question. Forget I asked it.”

He leant into her, looking earnest. “I know you have a very low opinion of me right now, but I assure you, we would have a happy life together.”

“How could I marry someone on the mere possibility that one day I might be happy? A lady puts herself wholly in her husband’s power, wholly under his control. The risk is even greater for you and me. Even if I were to discount all of our quarrels and my present poor impression of you, what do I know of you, really? I know nothing of your character and little of your disposition.”

“You would learn—”

“No.” She shook her head. “Forgive me, but I cannot. If there were any other way I could help you, I would do so, but I cannot relinquish all of my own hopes and wishes for your sake. I am sorry.”

He sighed heavily and, for a moment, touched two fingers to his forehead. She watched him, feeling a strange tug at the unhappiness on his countenance.

They walked in weighty silence, their steps falling into odd synchronism. Then, just as the shadow of Netherfield reached towards them, she said, quite without thinking about it, “Of course, I need not tell anyone that.”