Suddenly, Elizabeth felt the ring on her right hand grow heavy. This ring, too, must have been a piece of jewelry from Darcy.
Other husbands bestowed diamond rings as a symbol of their unwavering love, a commitment to one woman for a lifetime. But Darcy? He had given countless women rings and jewels, and the gesture had lost its meaning.
Elizabeth felt a sudden weariness envelop her. She no longer had the strength to continue the farce for Darcys benefit. With a decisive end to the drama, she murmured, "I truly envy you, to have such a beautiful ring."
She lowered her gaze, "But no matter how exquisite the ring, when its given to one person, it carries true sentiment; when given to many, it becomes meaningless."
"What... what do you mean?" The womans eyes widened in shock, but her peripheral vision caught sight of the resplendent ring on Elizabeths finger. She took a few steps back, her face draining of color.
"Is that the Stone of Love?"
Her voice trembled as she recognized the rings significance. The Stone of Love was a one-of-a-kind jewel, procured from a European royal family by Darcy himself, specifically for his true wife. It symbolized an eternal commitment, a love that would never be forsaken.
Could it be...?
Her horrified gaze shifted back to Elizabeth, taking in her dignified attire, which exuded an air of nobility and elegance.
"Are you... Mrs. Darcy?"
Faced with the womans incredulous question, Elizabeth confirmed her identity with a nod, her demeanor composed.
"Since youre aware of who I am, you should leave without delay and not waste any more of my time."
As Elizabeth spoke, her eyes drifted towards the disheveled bed inside the bedroom. It seemed she would need to change the bed linens before she could rest.
The woman scrambled out of the bedroom, only to encounter the nonchalant Darcy.
She clutched at him desperately, "Darcy, youre here!"
"What is it?" Darcys demeanor had lost the warmth it had held just hours ago, his eyes now cold and dismissive. "If theres nothing important, leave immediately."
"But Darcy..." The woman pleaded, clutching Darcys hand, hoping for some mercy.
His patience worn thin, Darcy snarled, "If you value your safety, leave now."
The woman, now realizing the gravity of the situation, hurriedly exited the motorhome, her departure marked by the sound of the door slamming shut.
Darcys face was a mask of indifference as he turned to Elizabeth. "Youre quite the actress, my dear."
Elizabeths lips curved into a bitter smile. "If I truly were jealous, with all your numerous affairs, how could I possibly keep up?"
Jealousy was a luxury she couldnt afford. Her heart had turned into a battlefield of emotions, and she was the sole survivor, standing amidst the ruins.
"Elizabeth," Darcys voice was a low growl, "you forget yourself."
He gripped her wrist tightly, his eyes boring into hers. "I decide who stays and who leaves. You are mine, Elizabeth Bennet, and you will remember your place."
With those parting words, Darcy left the room, leaving Elizabeth to contemplate the harsh reality of her situation.
She had been so close to breaking free, to reclaiming her independence, but Darcys reminder was a heavy chain, anchoring her to a loveless marriage.
As the motorhome journeyed onwards, Elizabeth was left with the weight of her choices, each mile marking the distance from the life she had envisioned and the one she was forced to live.