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Richard burst out laughing. “I, for one, would say that he is not! But Darce here seems to have finally convinced her. Now he just needs to do the same with her father!”

“Convinced?!? Why on Earth would they need convincing to marry Darcy?!?” demanded the Earl, certain that Darcy had been tricked into an infatuation by the arts and allurements of a pretty fortune hunter.

Seeing the uncomfortable look on his cousin’s face, Richard nudged him. “Oh come on, Darce. Tell them. There are few gentlemen of our rank who know that they are appreciated for their true value as a man, not merely the net worth of their wealth and connections. ”

Darcy gave him a long look before turning to his uncle.

“Mr. Bennet and his daughter place more weight on affection and respect in marriage than on wealth and connections. The gentleman has already refused several suitors for his eldest daughters that others might consider a good match.” He paused before adding, “Mr. Gardiner told me that Mr. Bennet’s late sister had been extremely unhappy in her marriage and he vowed not to allow the same to befall his daughters. ”

Lady Eleanor could see from her son’s smirk that her nephew had not told them the entire story. “That is estimable, certainly, but we were speaking specifically of Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

Darcy looked deeply uncomfortable but eventually shrugged and spoke quietly, “I saw Miss Bennet quite often while Richard and I were visiting Rosings Park at Easter. Aunt Catherine’s new cleric recently married her close friend and we happened to be in Kent at the same time.

Before I left, I asked for her hand and she refused me.

Most adamantly.” Now that it had all turned out so well, Darcy could not quite manage to produce the baleful glare that he was certain his cousin’s chuckles deserved.

Meanwhile, Georgiana giggled to see her two guardians acting like schoolboys.

The Earl was still trying to comprehend this new information. “She refused you? Are you certain?”

Darcy turned from rolling his eyes at Richard’s antics and faced his uncle seriously.

“I am unlikely to forget it, sir. I demanded an explanation in such a tone that prompted her… forced her, really… to explain her reasoning. I shall never forget the look on her face when she said that she had not known me a month before being certain that I was the last man she would ever consider marrying.”

Although Darcy delivered the words softly, even his cousin Olivia’s reserved husband was startled. “Good heavens! And you went back for more?”

“Though her answer was a surprise at the time, much of her opinion of me was well-reasoned and insightful. I had behaved poorly for most of our acquaintance; my discomfort with strangers was expressed in arrogance and conceit. Also, her dislike predisposed her to believe some lies about me that had been spread around her neighborhood.” Darcy shook his head.

“After some time spent feeling sorry for myself, I realized that, as Richard pointed out, if I were to ever win her approval, I would know that it was because she saw a true worth in me as a man.”

Matlock was quiet, recalling his own quandaries as a young man, heir of a wealthy title but also wishing to be liked and respected for himself.

Seeing that her husband was considering what Darcy had said and wishing to speak to him alone before he said something they would both regret, Lady Eleanor rose and went to kiss her nephew on both cheeks.

“I am very happy for you, Fitzwilliam, and I look forward to meeting your Miss Bennet. We will need to discuss the best approach for dealing with Catherine…” She frowned at her son’s snort and husband’s groan.

“…But it is late, so for now let us simply congratulate you and leave that discussion for tomorrow. I do not expect the de Bourgh carriage to arrive before noon, so there will be time.”

With that, the family dispersed to their rooms for the night with calls of congratulations and wishes for sweet dreams.

Later that evening, Lady Eleanor dismissed her maid after changing into a nightgown and a sensible wool robe.

Leaving the candles lit, she sat at her vanity brushing her hair and was unsurprised to hear the soft tap on the door connecting her rooms to those of her husband.

“Come in,” she called, just as she had so often for nearly forty years of marriage.

The Earl entered quietly, similarly garbed and wearing the fur-lined slippers that she had given him for Christmas.

He had an unsettled air about him but she was glad to see that he did not have a glass of whiskey in his hand as was his habit when he was truly angry.

Finishing the long plait down her back, she replaced her brush on the vanity and turned to him. “How are you, Henry?”

With the ease of long habit, he slumped into one of the armchairs by his wife’s fireplace. “Humph. What on Earth is the boy thinking?” he demanded.

Eleanor refrained from releasing the heavy sigh that threatened. Instead, she moved to sit opposite her husband. “That boy , as you call him, is a grown man, fully capable of making his own decisions.”

“Humph. Caught by some pretty flirt of a fortune hunter, if you ask me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Henry. No fortune hunter in her right mind would refuse an offer of marriage from our nephew. And he has been fending off such women since he came of age and probably before. Give him credit for being able to recognize the species.”

Henry shrugged and temporarily gave up on that line of argument. “I suppose I understand why he wouldn’t want to marry Anne, despite what Catherine says.”

“Catherine is not sensible when it comes to her daughter,” answered Eleanor bluntly.

“Anne’s poor health makes it unlikely that she will ever take her place in Society and I am not at all certain that she would survive a pregnancy, let alone childbirth.

Surely you understand that, even if Darcy was willing to forgo the first, he must have an heir? ”

Her husband sighed and nodded slightly, acknowledging the truth of her statement. “But if not Anne… surely he could have done better!”

“For shame—you have not even met the lady, Henry.”

“Precisely! We have never met her! Why could he not choose one of the girls from our circle?” he argued .

“You know as well as I do that he has looked and found no one he liked. Darcy has been out in Society for nearly ten years, much of that as his own master. Henry, think about it. Our nephew is intelligent and responsible but there is a lonely heart under that carefully constructed mask he wears so much of the time. He has done his duty for so long—you know as well as I do that George Darcy fell apart after the epidemic. If this young lady can make Fitzwilliam happy, then I, for one, plan to use every bit of my influence to make sure Society accepts her.”

“But a girl with no dowry at all? We shall be the laughing-stock of the ton.”

“Henry.” Eleanor waited until she had her husband’s complete attention.

“Are you telling me that you believe that the true worth of a woman lies solely in the wealth she brings to a marriage?” Her tone was dangerously quiet and her husband swallowed uncomfortably.

It was a little known fact that Lord Henry Fitzwilliam had wed a woman with no dowry whatsoever.

Lord Henry Fitzwilliam, then Viscount Ashbourne, had met Lady Eleanor Grey in her mother’s drawing room in 1780, when he was twenty-four and she was nineteen.

She had won his heart over a single dance and then led him on a merry chase for the rest of the Season.

Before agreeing to marry him, however, she had informed him of the little known fact that the Grey family had little more than their good name left.

When the American colonies had revolted against the British crown, Lord Francis Grey had lost all of his speculations, including the majority of Eleanor’s dowry, and the family was very nearly bankrupt.

Henry had assured both Eleanor and her father that he wished to marry her, dowry or not.

She had later confessed that she had finally allowed herself to care for him at that moment, for he had demonstrated that he valued her for herself.

Their marriage had survived her father’s long illness and death, his mother’s senility, the birth of eight children and death of two, and had only grown stronger with time.

Eleanor sighed and then leaned forward to touch her husband’s hand. “Darcy is not like Edward, Henry.”

She smiled sadly at her husband’s muttered, “Thank God.” At the age of thirty, their eldest son had cold-bloodedly chosen a wife according to all of Society’s principles; Lady Alameda Alfreda Warren was the only child of a wealthy baron.

She was beautiful, had a dowry of twenty thousand pounds, an estate in Essex, and her eldest son would inherit her father’s title.

She was also cold, bitter, and capable of wielding her power in Society with astonishing vindictiveness.

Edward’s parents could hardly stand her.

After a few minutes of contemplation, the Earl slumped back in his chair with a groan and threw up his hands. “I don’t have time for this! It would be so much easier if Darcy would just marry Anne and then Richard could marry Georgiana…”

“I beg your pardon?!?!” Henry looked up to see that his wife had exploded to her feet and looked every inch the disapproving Countess, frumpy dressing gown or not. “What does your time have to do with it? Our niece is barely seventeen years old and you would marry her off to Richard?!?”

The Earl was too vexed to guard his tongue. “Her dowry would allow him to resign his commission…”

“A worthwhile goal, I grant you, but is no thought to be given to affection?”

Henry spoke more loudly, ignoring a twinge of conscience. “They have known each other all their lives—certainly there is affection.”