Page 7 of Requirements for Love (Love in London with Mr Darcy #3)

Although he was still silent, Mr Darcy’s gaze, which felt hot before, now felt scorching. She avoided looking at him. For a fleeting moment, her mind passed over Wickham. But he had moved on to a woman with a fortune, although she did not feel disappointed over it. “No,” she said truthfully.

“Perhaps we can find you a husband this season,” Miss Darcy said eagerly.

She laughed. “It was all meant as a joke. You need not help me. Not for my sake, nor for my mother’s. The right man will come along. I am patient, even if my mother is not. Besides, I would never put a new acquaintance to such an inconvenience as to parade single men before me.”

“I would not mind,” Miss Darcy said. “It is a charming idea to match someone with the person best suited to make them happy. Fitzwilliam has many single friends after all, and?—”

“It is very late,” Mr Darcy interjected.

It was only ten o’clock, but Elizabeth took the hint and asked him to help her to her room. Parting from Miss Darcy, she said, “I appreciate your interest in me, but you do not need to find me a husband while you keep me company.”

“But finding you a husband this season would be such an amusing project.”

“Do you fancy yourself a matchmaker?”

Miss Darcy looked ready to answer her, but shrugged under her brother’s stern gaze.

With a quick “good night” to his sister, Mr Darcy picked Elizabeth up and carried her to the parlour across the corridor.

He set her down carefully, even keeping the blanket in place as he did.

He hesitated in leaving, tugging on his coat sleeves that had shifted up as he carried her.

At the door, he said softly, “My sister is a romantic. You need not indulge her. ”

She smiled at his explanation. “I found it difficult to obtain even a word from her beyond a monosyllable until the topic of marrying me off was broached. She was remarkably animated on the subject.”

“I am sorry if she offended you,” he said hurriedly.

“Oh, I do not mind her enthusiasm. I do not think she could offend anyone. Your sister is shy but lovely. I hope we can become friends, and I will do all I can to show her how much I like her.”

There was such a hopeful look on Mr Darcy’s face when she said this. He was grateful she liked his sister. For some reason, he truly did want them to be friends.

“If I am to further our acquaintance…” she said hesitantly when he turned to leave, “what did I say to insult you and your sister?” He did not prevaricate, but neither did he answer.

“You seem to resent the idea of her thinking a young man handsome. I find that incredibly odd since you had previously hoped your sister would marry Bingley.”

He shook his head. “That was always a hope for the future. A ‘someday’ wish. But not now, not when she is still so young, and certainly not now that Bingley is attached to your sister.”

She could not disagree that Miss Darcy was very young.

Although she had a womanly figure, there was still something almost childlike in the curve of her cheeks and her mannerisms. But even a girl of thirteen, fourteen, or fifteen should be able to think a boy sweet without her falling to pieces under her brother’s scolding gaze.

“But if I must be careful in what I say to her, you must advise me on how to do better.”

A series of pensive meditations must have crossed his mind.

There was no other way to describe his odd look, his hesitance to speak.

“You did nothing wrong,” he said with a sigh.

“Your comment was the sort of private aside any young lady would make to another, I suppose. She has recently been…disappointed.”

“In love?” she guessed.

“It was not love,” he said contemptuously. Mr Darcy paced; no simple task in a small parlour now crowded with extra furniture.

“In her expectations? ”

He nodded. “Growing up is hard enough, especially when you are shy, sheltered, and with no mother to guide you.”

She saw it all clearly: Miss Darcy was fifteen and lonely, and thought the attentions of a boy meant he loved her.

“And it is easy to be deceived. But I promise all girls take a flight of fancy to mean a smile or look means more. They have a good cry over it. Their friends pronounce the ignorant youth to be a scoundrel, and he is soon forgotten.”

He stared a long moment, and finally nodded. “It is difficult for her to get over it because she throws herself into all the things that matter to her. And…”

“And she thought she mattered to this boy?”

“Boy,” he repeated in a contemptuous whisper. Under the calm of his manner, there was a hot anger in his eyes. Mr Darcy shrugged and looked at the ceiling. “Yes, she did.”

How odd for a brother to be so angry on his sister’s behalf over what was really a trifle.

This boy must have danced with her once and then never called, or smiled at her but then brought a drink to her friend instead or some other thing that would break the heart of any fifteen-year-old girl.

But not the sort of thing that should make a brother so protective.

“In the long run, it is not a bad thing for her to love deeply, is it?”

“No,” he said earnestly. “I want her to love whomever she chooses, and I want him to love and respect her as she deserves. Everyone deserves that. I just hope the next time it is with a worthy object. Georgiana is dedicated, however, to whatever matters to her. Music. The people she loves. Projects,” he added with a shake of his head.

She wondered if Miss Darcy was like her brother in that way.

He seemed steadfast, loyal, and committed to whomever had need of him.

It therefore made no sense for a man with those principles to forsake Wickham.

Something in Wickham’s story was wrong. Perhaps there was a misunderstanding between the men that led them to part ways under such terms.

Regardless of what sort of man Mr Darcy truly was, she was willing to be of use to a kind and shy soul like Miss Darcy .

“If your sister is a romantic and has had her own little youthful heartbreak, it might do her good to find me a husband who is better than the youth who smiled at her and never called. I could be a distraction.”

He started as he took her meaning. “No, absolutely not. Your marriage, your hopes and wishes for the future, how you give your heart? It is too serious a subject to be trifled with to entertain a lonely girl.”

It was an impassioned speech for a man who she thought this morning had no proper feelings for anyone but himself. Her heart beat a little faster to hear it.

“I do not expect her to find me anyone, or anyone who would have me. Besides, I can laugh myself out of any little heartbreak that might happen over the course of only a fortnight. Would you allow me to indulge her? My time and powers will waste away while I am here. I must do something, although I do not know how to find an eligible man while confined to the first floor of your house,” she said with a laugh.

“ The Times agony column?” he suggested drily.

She laughed. His sense of humour was rarely on display, but she was appreciating his droll manner. “Not the newspaper. But your sister can help me pen the requirements a man must have for me to fall in love. That could occupy us more than the actual meetings with anyone she chooses.”

“I do not think Mrs Gardiner would approve.”

“She would not if it put you or your sister to an inconvenience. But if Miss Darcy wants to think through her acquaintances and have me meet one or two who she thinks would suit me after she knows all that I would require to be happy, I will indulge her and distract her from her heartache.”

“You are a tremendously kind woman,” he breathed.

She was still blushing from his unjust praise as he added, in a voice more like his own, “If Georgiana raises the subject and you wish to forward her scheme, I cannot stop you. But you must not feel obligated to humour her or put yourself in a situation where you are made to feel uncomfortable. Good evening.”

He left, and she slowly readied for bed, being careful not to move much and always keeping a hand on the furniture.

Mr Darcy was an acute and unembarrassed observer, confident and quick in his speech and decisions.

They were admirable traits. His sister’s manners, while very different, were perfectly unassuming and gentle. She was not proud, but timid.

How could Wickham have been so wrong in his perception of Miss Darcy?