Page 73 of Intrigue and Inheritance (Crime and Consequences #3)

“I am perfectly aware of Miss Bennet’s circumstances,” Shandly replied with unexpected gravity. “I value her for qualities far beyond worldly considerations. Her warm heart, her lively intelligence, her refreshing genuineness in a world of artifice... these are worth more to me than any fortune.”

“Fine sentiments,” Darcy acknowledged, “but practical matters cannot be ignored. Your own circumstances, Lord Shandly? I understand your grandfather’s health has been precarious, and your expectations as his heir are significant, but your current income is more modest.”

Shandly squared his shoulders, meeting Darcy’s gaze directly.

“My allowance from my grandfather is two thousand per annum, which shall increase to three next year upon my thirtieth birthday. I have, in addition, my mother’s settlement of ten thousand, which provides approximately five hundred annually.

My personal expenditures have been... admittedly lavish in the past, but I have reformed my habits considerably in recent months. ”

Darcy nodded, impressed by the viscount’s candour. “And your plans for the future? Catherine has known only country life until recently. Would you expect her to adapt entirely to London society?”

“Not at all,” Shandly answered promptly.

“I own a small but comfortable property in Nottinghamshire. While we would naturally spend part of each year in Town, I envision our primary residence being Shandly Lodge until my grandfather passes and Roxworth Hall becomes our seat – it is of course near Winchester, a significant estate. I believe Miss Bennet would be happier in the country, and her happiness is my foremost concern. Shandly Lodge would be an excellent place for her to learn to manage a home until she is expected to step up to Roxworth.”

The conversation continued for nearly half an hour, Darcy pressing the viscount on increasingly specific aspects of his future plans, his expectations regarding Kitty’s role as his wife, and his ability to provide her with both financial security and emotional contentment.

Throughout, Shandly responded with a seriousness that belied his reputation for frivolity, demonstrating a thoughtfulness that Darcy found increasingly persuasive.

“There is one further matter,” Darcy said finally, leaning back in his chair.

“Your conduct during the recent... difficulties in this household did not go unnoticed. Many gentlemen might have withdrawn their attentions when scandal threatened, yet you remained steadfast in your visits and support for Catherine.”

Shandly’s expression softened. “How could I have done otherwise? Miss Bennet was suffering, through no fault of her own. To abandon her in such circumstances would have been unconscionable.”

This, more than any of the viscount’s financial assurances or practical plans, convinced Darcy of the genuineness of his attachment.

“Very well, Lord Shandly. You have my permission to address Miss Bennet on the subject of marriage. I ask only that you consider her youth and relative inexperience in matters of the heart. She deserves a courtship that allows her to know her own mind fully.”

The relief and joy that transformed Shandly’s face was almost comical in its intensity. “Thank you, sir. You shall not regret your trust in me, I promise you.”

“I sincerely hope not,” Darcy replied with deliberate gravity, though he allowed a small smile to temper his words as he offered his hand to shake. “For I assure you, Lord Shandly, that I take my responsibilities toward my wife’s sisters most seriously.”

The subtle threat was received with appropriate solemnity, the viscount’s nod acknowledging both the permission granted and the obligation it entailed.

“Would this afternoon be an opportune time to speak with Miss Bennet?” Shandly asked hopefully. “At two o’clock?”

Darcy nodded, though he wondered at the specificity of the request. “I shall ask her to be the library… and I will be in this adjacent room, with the door opened,” he cautioned. Shandly nodded eagerly, and Darcy reached for the bell to summon Harrison.

The scene that unfolded that afternoon could hardly have been more characteristic of the viscount’s theatrical nature.

Shandly had arranged for an astonishing quantity of flowers to be delivered precisely as his conversation with Kitty reached its crucial moment, two footmen entering with enormous arrangements of roses, lilies, and forget-me-nots that transformed the library into something resembling a conservatory.

Darcy was hard pressed to contain his laughter; so this was Shandly had been so precise in his request!

“Miss Bennet,” Shandly declared, producing a small volume of poetry from his coat with a flourish worthy of the stage, “may I express my sentiments in the immortal words of the poet Keats? ‘I love you more than spring.’”

For all his theatricality, there was a sincerity in his expression that could not be feigned, a genuine emotion underlying the carefully orchestrated proposal, and Kitty’s reaction was everything a lover might have hoped for.

Her expressive face registered surprise, delight, and genuine emotion in rapid succession.

When Shandly finally knelt before her, setting aside his poetry to speak from his heart, tears glistened in Kitty’s eyes.

“You have brought light and joy to my existence, Catherine,” the viscount said, his voice losing its theatrical quality and becoming simply that of a man in love. “Would you do me the incomparable honour of becoming my wife?”

“Yes,” Kitty answered without hesitation, her smile radiant through her tears. “Yes, Edmund, I will marry you.”

The viscount rose, taking her hands in his with reverent care before kissing them with fervent devotion.

The scene was so perfectly executed, so genuinely touching despite its choreographed nature, that Darcy found himself deeply moved.

There was something appropriate, he reflected, in Kitty finding happiness with a man whose natural exuberance matched her own, whose theatrical gestures delighted rather than embarrassed her.

As the newly engaged couple embraced with proper restraint, Darcy quietly withdrew, satisfied that his responsibilities as guardian had been fulfilled.

Kitty Bennet, who had arrived at Darcy House a giggly, somewhat frivolous girl too long overshadowed by a wayward sister, would leave it a viscount’s fiancée and a future countess, secure in both affection and position.

Her transformation was perhaps the most surprising result of the London season, but watching her glowing face as Shandly slipped a sapphire ring onto her finger, Darcy could not doubt its genuineness.

Darcy had never imagined finding himself giving consent to two marriage proposals in the space of a single week.

Yet here he was, observing his sister and Mr. Alexander Townend seated at the pianoforte, their heads bent close together over a sheet of music, her delicate fingers occasionally brushing his as she indicated a particular passage.

Their musical collaboration had progressed from formal duets to composition over the past month, a development Darcy had watched with mingled pride and apprehension.

When Townend had requested a private audience that morning, his manner serious and uncharacteristically composed, Darcy had known immediately what conversation awaited him.

“Mr. Darcy,” Townend began once they were settled in the study, his usual animated enthusiasm for musical topics giving way to formal gravity. “I appreciate your willingness to meet with me on such short notice.”

Darcy nodded, studying the young man with careful attention.

Alexander Townend presented a striking figure in his well-tailored coat of dark green, his frequently ink-stained fingers meticulously clean today, his dark brown hair arranged with unusual care.

Only the slight tapping of his foot betrayed his nervousness.

“I have observed your particular attention to my sister’s musical pursuits,” Darcy remarked, keeping his tone neutral.

Townend straightened, meeting Darcy’s gaze with unexpected directness. “Yes, sir. That is precisely what I wish to discuss. Miss Darcy and I have discovered a remarkable musical compatibility that has developed into... something more significant.”

“Indeed?” Darcy raised an eyebrow slightly. “Pray elaborate.”

“We began merely as musical acquaintances,” Townend explained, his composure growing as he spoke on a subject clearly close to his heart.

“But as we explored duets together, I recognised in Miss Darcy not only extraordinary technical skill, but a depth of musical understanding that is exceedingly rare. When she hesitantly shared some of her own compositions with me, I was quite frankly astonished by her talent.”

Darcy nodded, acknowledging the truth in this assessment. “Georgiana has always been most modest about her compositions.”

“Too modest, sir,” Townend replied with sudden passion.

“Her work has genuine merit. We began collaborating on arrangements initially, but have progressed to original compositions that combine her gift for melody with my understanding of harmonic structure.” He paused, then added with careful emphasis, “Our musical partnership has revealed a compatibility of minds and spirits that transcends mere artistic cooperation.”

“And you have expressed these sentiments to my sister?” Darcy asked, his protective instincts fully engaged.

“Only in the most respectful terms,” Townend assured him. “I would never presume upon Miss Darcy’s feelings without first securing your permission to address her formally.”