“Soon, Jane will have children,” Kitty said with a melancholy sigh. “And you and Mr. Darcy will be next.”
“What?” Elizabeth asked in sudden alarm. “Why would you think that?” Had Kitty found his handkerchief? That could be disastrous. Especially after Lydia’s behavior. Uncle Phillips might feel obligated to press them into a union, and Mr. Darcy, aware she knew he didn’t wish to wed her, would believe she’d trapped him. Not that a handkerchief could trap him. What was she thinking?
“Lizzy, you walk with him every day.”
Relief calmed Elizabeth’s nerves. “We only spend time together to allow you other couples a chance to be alone.”
“Colonel Fitzwilliam and I are not a couple,” Kitty said. To Elizabeth’s shock, Kitty quickly dashed tears from her eyes.
“Kitty, what is it?” she asked. “Has Colonel Fitzwilliam done something to upset you?”
“Of course not, but, oh Lizzy, I’m in love with him,” Kitty whispered. New tears built in her eyes.
“But why is that something to cry about?” It stabbed at Elizabeth’s heart, to see her little sister’s tears. “He must love you too. You spend so much time together. He isn’t the sort of man to raise your hopes only to dash them.”
“No, he isn’t, which is why he told me very early in our acquaintance that he’s not courting me.” Kitty scrubbed her gloved palms against her cheeks, sopping up tears.
Pique shot through Elizabeth. Did all men who had a parent born a Fitzwilliam believe in not courting the young lady they were spending time with? “Why would he do that?”
“It’s my fault,” Kitty said miserably. “Once, we were catching up to you two and Colonel Fitzwilliam said we should slow down. I asked him why and he said that he wanted to give Mr. Darcy a chance to be alone with you.” Kitty turned more fully toward Elizabeth on the bench, her face molded into indignation. “Well, I told Colonel Fitzwilliam that I didn’t think you were interested in Mr. Darcy and that I should know, being your sister. I even told him how Mr. Darcy said you aren’t handsome enough to tempt him.”
Elizabeth winced. She could have done without those words being repeated to more of their acquaintances.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam said that every unmarried woman in England is interested in Mr. Darcy,” Kitty continued, her words rapid with a mixture of annoyance and anguish. “Then he said that Mr. Darcy is too conscious of his position as a good catch to give a woman false hopes, so he must care for you.”
“He doesn’t,” Elizabeth asserted, cutting into her sister’s tirade. “We walk together to allow other couples time with each other.” Every woman must want to marry Mr. Darcy? Typical Fitzwilliam arrogance. At least Mr. Darcy knew the truth, even if his cousin did not. Elizabeth wasn’t interested in Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Darcy was quite happy to accept that.
“Well, Colonel Fitzwilliam doesn’t believe that you aren’t after Mr. Darcy.” Kitty’s tone was glum. “I reiterated my opinion, in your defense. Colonel Fitzwilliam said that even a man without property must be careful about raising false hopes and that Mr. Darcy always would be, no matter what the lady in question chose to say she felt on the subject.” Kitty shot Elizabeth a look that conveyed how incredulous she’d found those words. “Well, that made me angry, and I said some things I regret.” Her expression changed from indignant back to sorrowful.
“Oh dear,” Elizabeth said, aware of how Kitty’s temper sometimes ran away with her. “You’d best tell me what you said.”
Kitty nodded. Elizabeth kept half an eye on the children, but she listened to every word her sister said. By the time Kitty was through, Elizabeth realized it was time to have another hypothetical conversation with Mr. Darcy.
Chapter Seventeen
Not much for prevarication, Darcy did concede to being deliberately vague when he told Bingley he was going out to run an errand. He’d spoken with Elizabeth the previous afternoon, on a somewhat delicate matter. If the issue didn’t resolve itself amicably, Darcy was sure the parties involved wouldn’t wish word of his errand spread around.
Darcy directed his coachman toward the Earl of Matlock’s residence, knowing he would find Richard alone there. Neither his widowed mother or his older brother were in London at the moment. If they had been, Richard likely would be residing with Bingley in Darcy’s home. His older brother drove him mad by lording over him, and his mother with her matchmaking.
Darcy permitted a wry smile as his carriage jostled through the London streets. In view of his errand that morning, he would soon end up in the same category as Richard’s mother. That was, unless things went amiably, and Darcy hoped they would. He could tell by observing them that Miss Kitty made Richard happy. Moreover, on a selfish note, should both Bingley and Richard bind themselves to Bennet sisters, much of the disgrace of having Wickham as a family member would be mitigated.
His carriage rolled to a halt before the Earl of Matlock’s residence. Darcy alighted and jogged up the steps. Unlike when Richard visited Darcy House, Darcy waited patiently in the foyer after being allowed in, while the butler went to announce him.
Moments later, Richard himself came out to greet Darcy. “Darcy, what an unexpected surprise.” His expression was one of clear curiosity, for it was unusual for Darcy to seek his cousin at home and uninvited. “Is this an office or a parlor discussion?”
Darcy inclined his head in greeting. “Parlor.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Richard said and turned to lead the way toward the earl’s well-appointed front parlor. “Can I send for anything?”
“No, thank you.”
They settled into the parlor. Darcy claimed what he deemed the least uncomfortable chair. Richard’s older brother, as Lady Catherine, seemed to select his furniture more by expense and ostentation than function.
“Well?” Richard said, his expression expectant. “What brings you here?”
“I had a conversation with Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy said.
Richard’s eyebrows shot up. “Did you, now?”
Darcy frowned, unsure of the source of his cousin’s enthusiasm. “Yes, and--”
“Are congratulations in order?” Richard asked, leaning forward in his seat.
“What?” Darcy shook his head. “That will be up to you, I suppose.”
“Up to me?” Now Richard looked as confused as Darcy felt. “Why?”
“Will you let me speak?” Darcy didn’t bother to hide his annoyance.
“I think I’d better.”
Darcy watched for a moment to make sure Richard was through with his interruptions and conjectures. Satisfied, he began with, “Let me bring up a hypothetical situation between two hypothetical parties.”
Richard’s confusion didn’t wane, but he nodded.
“Suppose, for example,” Darcy continued, “that someone who is young and naïve gets angry and says several things she regrets. Perhaps these things are along the lines of not every woman wishing to throw herself at every man who pays her attention. She may even have included angry words declaring that the specific, hypothetical, man she was speaking to would never interest her in that way.”
Richard coughed. “Yes, well, hypothetically, that sounds like a private conversation.”
Darcy nodded. “I imagine it was. However, what if the young woman in question realizes that in her moment of anger, she drove away a potential suitor? Now, she is too shy to speak to him directly. Would it be appropriate for a third party to bring it to the potential suitor’s attention without implying a commitment on the part of either party?”
Richard leaned back in his chair, jaw set. “That depends. Did this hypothetical young woman say what else she might have done to drive away the suitor?”
It was Darcy’s turn to be surprised. Elizabeth hadn’t told him of anything else. “I suppose I would have to consult the hypothetical confidant of the young woman.” He looked the question at Richard. “Or would you care to enlighten me?”
Richard frowned. For a long moment, he
drummed his fingers on the lion-carved arm of his chair. Finally, he shrugged. “She said she was too young to consider marriage, that I… rather, our hypothetical gentleman, was too old for her, that she enjoyed the status of spending time with a colonel in the regulars because her younger sister would be envious, as her younger sister had married a lieutenant in the militia, but that was the extent of this colonel’s attraction.” Richard scowled. “She also said she felt she had several years of enjoyment before she married and meant to make the most of them.” Richard fell silent. He glared at Darcy, as if daring him to counter such harsh words.
Darcy hadn’t heard any of that from Elizabeth, and suspected Miss Kitty’s courage had failed her when it came to admitting the depths of her error. What he also heard, and observed, was the hurt and anger that radiated from his cousin. Richard wouldn’t show so much emotion unless he possessed strong feelings for Miss Kitty. Darcy had one more piece of information, a very important piece, but Elizabeth had advised him to impart it with the utmost care.
Wanting to confirm his guess about the depths of Richard’s attachment, he ventured, “Yet, our hypothetical couple still spends a great deal of time in each other’s company. That seems to point to some level of attraction, on both sides.”
Richard answered with a scowl. His hands curled over the lions’ heads on his chair arms. “I think that a man so firmly and excessively rebuked would be hard pressed to put himself at risk for further abuse.”
Yes, Richard definitely cared enough to be stung, but was it simply pride, or did he hold affection for Miss Kitty? Darcy tried another tact. “Perhaps we should consider what could have precipitated such an outpouring?”
Richard’s flush was telling. “The gentleman may have stated that he was only spending time with the young lady to give his cousin a chance to court someone else. A cousin who, by the way, isn’t fooling anyone with his pretense at not being interested in the young lady.”
“The cousin is not interested in the young lady,” Darcy said, realizing, even as he spoke, that he lied. Rather, he would never admit his interest, since it wasn’t reciprocated. “And that’s not what we’re speaking about. Back to the first young lady, don’t you think her pride may have been pricked to the point of somewhat justifying her anger, even if she did permit her words to go too far?”
“Maybe.” Richard’s tone was sullen.
“And would you not agree that such anger likely stems, at its heart, from affection?” Darcy suggested, playing his final card.
Richard’s gaze snapped up to meet Darcy’s. “Affection?”
“Hypothetically speaking, yes.”
Richard stood and crossed to the mantle. He took up a poker and stirred the fire, which didn’t need attention. “Are you sure?”
“My information comes from Miss Elizabeth.”
Richard nodded, still poking at the fire. He cast a glance Darcy’s way. “And you’re also sure about the cousin? That he wasn’t seeking space to court the young lady?
“Absolutely,” Darcy said, hoping Richard couldn’t read the strain in his truncated reply.
Richard scrutinized Darcy for a long moment. Darcy didn’t let his gaze waver. Finally, Richard turned to shove the poker back in its stand. Darcy raised his eyebrows, taking in the vehemence of the gesture.
Richard turned back. He dusted his palms on his breeches. “Thank you. I will take your hypothetical situation under advisement.”
Darcy nodded and stood but a question occurred to him. “Whatever happened to your general’s heiress-hunting nephew?”
A smile flickered across Richard’s face. “I told my general the truth, although I was tempted to tell him the rumors were false. I wanted to say that there were no diamonds or gold, only one heiress, whose mother is a fire-breathing dragon, and three goats his nephew wouldn’t want, but didn’t. I said the girls were pretty, had a bit of money, and the one girl was my cousin and was very wealthy, though not as pretty. He ordered his nephew to investigate and his nephew told him that he wasn’t in the military and didn’t need to obey orders from an interfering relative.”
Darcy raised his eyebrows. “You can rely on me not to repeat what you considered saying and not to tell Anne what you did.”
“Thank you.”
Darcy shook his head. “I’ll show myself out,” he said and headed from the parlor.
Colonel Fitzwilliam and Miss Kitty Bennet became engaged the following day.
***
Darcy was at his desk wending his way through a pile of unanswered invitations when Mr. Searle was announced. Bingley was out scouring the city for a home to rent or buy for him and Miss Bennet, but Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley were in the front parlor. No request for privacy had been conveyed but, in keeping with recent happenings, Darcy had a strong suspicion why Mr. Searle had come. He asked his butler to show Searle directly to his office.
Darcy stood when his butler showed Searle in. He gestured to the chair across from him. “Mr. Searle, welcome. Please, sit. Would you care for anything?”
Searle shook his head as he took the offered seat. “No, thank you.”
Darcy nodded to his butler, who bowed and left, then retook his seat. He was pleased he’d taken the time to replace both chairs, along with most of the furniture in Darcy House, with well-made, comfortable, clean-lined pieces. He imagined Mr. Searle was the type to note such modern touches. Indeed, Searle was looking about the large office, expression appreciative.
“How can I help you?” Darcy asked.
Searle turned to face him. “I want to talk to you about Miss de Bourgh.”
Darcy suppressed a smile. Not only was his guess correct, but he realized he was pleasantly startled by Searle’s bluntness. He’d expected… well, a hypothetical situation. “All right.”
“I’m considering asking her to marry me, but I foresee several obstacles.”
Darcy nodded, ordering his mind into seriousness. “Such as?”
“For one, I got off on the wrong foot with Lady Catherine.” Searle grimaced. “Can you recommend a way to rectify that?”
Darcy was shaking his head before Searle had the question out. “No, but if it’s any consolation, there’s almost no one she’s actually on good terms with.” Oddly, he realized, that short list included Elizabeth’s uncle.
Searle nodded, not appearing surprised. “Let’s set aside that issue for now, then. Moving on, is there anything to Lady Catherine’s insistence that you and Miss de Bourgh are engaged?”
“The so-called engagement consists of our mothers thinking it would be a good idea for us to marry,” Darcy said. “There are numerous obstacles to the match, even if you overlook the fact that neither Anne or I wish for the union. Anne dislikes Pemberley. I love it. I have no interest in Rosings. Anne will inherit it.”
“So, there is nothing there?” Searle pressed.
“The only obligation I’ve felt was that I should consider Anne as a possibility. I’ve met that obligation,” Darcy said.
“Lady Catherine doesn’t agree.” Searle’s tone was dry.
“She should be pleased with you as a suitor for Anne,” Darcy said, employing a candor equal to Searle’s. “As you pointed out, you are quite wealthy. Lady Catherine puts a lot of stock in wealth.”
“Yes, but I’m not a gentleman.” Searle emphasized the last word.
“I don’t think Anne cares,” Darcy offered.
“I don’t think she does either.” Searle’s expression grew thoughtful. “She did say something once, about her father’s will.” He frowned. “She implied her mother could somehow punish her for making her own choice about whom to wed. She wasn’t talking about us marrying, just a general comment.”
Darcy knew his cousin well enough to realize she wouldn’t have mentioned marriage, even in passing, unless she was considering the union. It seemed Anne was also able to convey information hypothetically. “I’ve read Sir Lewis’ will.” He took a moment to sort through his recollections for what Anne mu
st mean. “The problem is there, but it’s nothing insurmountable. If Lady Catherine doesn’t approve of Anne’s marriage she can keep her, and her husband, out of Rosings. The house is Lady Catherine’s for her lifetime. The money from the estate will still go to Anne. She can run Rosings or arrange for a steward to manage the estate.”
Darcy realized that, in essence, Anne was warning Searle not to marry her for the prestige of Rosings. Lady Catherine was in robust health. If she wished, it could be years before Anne and a husband of hers could reside in their country seat.
Searle was silent for a long moment. “How is Rosings run now?” he finally asked.
That, Darcy didn’t need time to recall. “Lady Catherine runs the household. Anne and her mother have been consulting with the steward to run everything else.”
“Miss de Bourgh and her mother work together with the steward?” Searle raised his eyebrows. “How does that go?” His tone was as skeptical as his expression.
Darcy offered a slight smile. “Better than you would imagine. Anne has insisted on more charity but has admitted to me that her mother was right to deny it to one family. She found, in retrospect, that they were taking advantage of her generosity. Her other charitable efforts have been sound. I know because she and Lady Catherine have them all investigated. I sometimes think more so they can keep score than ensure the money is well placed. When it’s only Richard and me visiting, they argue about it incessantly.”
“Where to bestow charitable efforts is often a difficult decision,” Searle said with feeling. “I’ve recently hired someone to ferret out people who wish to take advantage of my generosity.”
“It’s painful to discover you’ve given to those not genuinely in need,” Darcy agreed. Not only did it make you feel a fool, but it took funds from those who required them most. “That’s why I confine my charity to people who live on or near my estate.”
Searle’s eyes narrowed. “I can appreciate that, I really can. Now that I have someone to investigate those I give to, however, a donation made to my fund truly would be well made.”
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