Page 15

“Darcy, if you are to wed the woman, you shall have to introduce her, and this is a rather fortuitous opportunity for it. She shall be on friendly ground with my mother and father supporting her, and I understand the Abernathys are also invited.”

Darcy felt his pulse quicken at the prospect of seeing Miss Bennet again so soon, though whether from anticipation or anxiety, he was not certain.

"It would be an opportunity to redeem yourself," Fitzwilliam added.

“And for you to meet Miss Abernathy again.”

“For my mother to meet her, yes. Poor Miss Abernathy.”

Darcy stared at his cousin with surprise. Taking a lady to meet his mother was tantamount to a proposal from Fitzwilliam. "You have long said you would not marry regardless of your mother's expectations."

"Because I had not met a woman who interested me," Fitzwilliam replied lightly. Too lightly. “Now I have.”

"So soon?"

"I was growing quite attached to her last season before I was called away," Fitzwilliam said with the same decisive tone he employed when discussing military strategy.

"I am fortunate that she is yet unmarried, and I do not intend to waste time now.

I have seen enough of the world to recognise a woman worth pursuing when she presents herself. "

Apparently his cousin’s walk in the park had gone very well indeed.

Darcy would not press Fitzwilliam on the matter.

He had to repair things with Miss Bennet, and the sooner the better.

If he could support Fitzwilliam in his own pursuit, he would certainly do so.

"Very well. The Abernathys have received an invitation?”

“Yes, weeks ago. They have accepted.”

“Then I shall attend."

Rising from his chair, he moved to the bell pull to summon his valet.

He would need to give serious thought to his attire for the event.

He never thought about what he wore; he paid his valet to do that for him.

But now he wished to please his betrothed, and what would his unmarried valet know about that?

Nothing too ostentatious, certainly. Abernathy had said Miss Bennet did not like pretension. Yet he wished to appear at his best.

"I see your mind is already at work," Fitzwilliam observed with amusement. "Might I suggest focusing less on your appearance and more on your conversation? Perhaps practise a few compliments that do not mention illness."

Darcy knew he would be entirely unable to deliver such with any degree of proficiency, let alone charm.

There was no use in planning his approach; Miss Bennet could dismantle a strategy faster than he could form one.

Best to forgo the attempt entirely—he would have to converse with her without any plan at all but honesty.

It was not a comforting thought.

"I cannot help but feel that Miss Bennet would see through any rehearsed pleasantries."

"Indeed," Fitzwilliam mused. "Then you must march into battle unarmed. Speak from the heart, Darcy.”

As his cousin departed, Darcy contemplated the evening ahead. No more awkward, blundering attempts at gallantry. No more stiff formality. No more strategy.

The thought was both liberating and terrifying. Beyond the demands of honour and propriety, he wished to know her better, to understand the quick mind behind those expressive eyes, to discover what might make her laugh with genuine pleasure rather than sharp irony.

Darcy picked up a pen and began to write, not compliments or pleasantries, but a list of topics Elizabeth had shown interest in: literature, politics, Hertfordshire.

He had observed Miss Bennet's interest in classical sculptures at the masquerade ball, the way her eyes had lingered on a statue of Neptune.

He added art to the list. If conversation was to be his means of redemption, then he would arm himself appropriately.

For a man accustomed to managing an estate of thousands of acres, surely engaging one young woman in pleasant discourse could not be so insurmountable a challenge.

Could it?

Elizabeth broke the seal on Jane's letter. Only three weeks had passed since she had come to London and her family had departed on their own journey, yet it felt like an eternity.

"Are there any exciting developments in the north?" Arabella inquired cheerfully from her position at the pianoforte, where she had been idly practising a new piece.

"I have only just opened it," Elizabeth replied, running her fingers over her sister's neat, precise handwriting. "Though I do admit to some trepidation about what Jane might say regarding my unexpected change in status."

She had written to her sister immediately after the fateful masquerade, explaining the circumstances of her sudden engagement with as much clarity as propriety would allow.

She had not, however, confessed her determination to end the betrothal.

Such confidences were too dangerous to commit to paper, even in a letter to Jane.

"Read it aloud if you do not mind," Arabella urged, abandoning her music to join Elizabeth on the settee. "I should like to know how your family has received the news."

Elizabeth cleared her throat and began to read:

My dearest Lizzy,

I cannot adequately express the astonishment with which we received your news.

An engagement, and to Mr. Darcy of Pemberley!

Aunt Gardiner recognised the name at once, for Pemberley is but six miles from Green Hill House.

She speaks most highly of the family, though she has never met the current master.

Elizabeth paused, somewhat surprised. "I had no idea Aunt Gardiner would have heard of Mr. Darcy.”

"We live on an island," Arabella commented. "It is difficult to travel anywhere without discovering relations or mutual acquaintances. What else has Jane to say?"

Mr. Abernathy wrote to Papa, explaining the circumstances and requesting permission to sign the marriage articles on his behalf.

Papa was most intrigued by this gentleman who so expeditiously offered for your hand after what Mr. Abernathy delicately termed “an unfortunate misunderstanding at a masquerade.”

Elizabeth groaned softly. "So Papa knows everything."

"Almost certainly," Arabella agreed. “My father would not keep such a thing from yours.”

He has asked me to tell you that he gives his permission for Mr. Abernathy to act in his stead regarding the marriage articles and that he trusts Mr. Abernathy's judgment implicitly in this matter.

He also wishes you to know that Mamma has not read his letter, though she did intercept mine.

Because you were discreet, Mamma believes only that you have a suitor.

Papa’s exact words were "Should Lizzy discover she wishes to wriggle out of this arrangement, I trust Abernathy to manage it with discretion. My contribution shall be to keep her mother occupied in the north while Elizabeth decides what she truly desires.”

“Your father has always been perceptive,” Arabella noted.

Elizabeth lowered the letter, a rush of affection for her father warming her heart. “He has.” She returned to the letter, her voice softening as she continued:

Papa added that should matters progress to a conclusion you find unsatisfactory, he will of course support whatever resolution you and Mr. Abernathy determine is best. However, he also bade me remind you, and again, these are his precise words, "If this is a man she can respect and admire, she would do well to consider the match with care before discarding it. Good men are far rarer than wealthy ones, though occasionally the two qualities may coincide.”

Elizabeth frowned slightly at this. Even her father, it seemed, was not entirely opposed to the match.

As for myself, dearest Lizzy, I am pleased if you are pleased. You have always possessed excellent judgment, and if Mr. Darcy can earn your regard, then I have no doubt of his worth. I confess, I am anxious to meet the gentleman.

"How very like Jane," Elizabeth murmured, "to assume the best of everyone."

"She is the best of women," Arabella agreed. “Far better than the pair of us.”

They smiled at one another, and Elizabeth resumed reading.

Lydia and Kitty insist that I inquire whether your Mr. Darcy is handsome, whether he is truly as rich as Aunt Gardiner implies, and whether he might be persuaded to treat them to new bonnets when they eventually visit London.

Mary offers her sincere congratulations and hopes that your future husband appreciates the superior value of moral reflection over worldly advantages.

I must add, though I hesitate to cause you anxiety, that Mamma is exceedingly happy with the news of your "suitor.

" She speaks of little else, and though Papa has told her that we shall remain in Derbyshire until the end of February as planned, I fear she grows more determined by the day to return to London.

Elizabeth set the letter down in her lap with a heavy sigh. "Precisely as I feared. Mamma will not remain in Derbyshire much longer, no matter what Papa says. She is undoubtedly already planning our wedding breakfast and selecting lace for my trousseau."

"But your father is attempting to delay her," Arabella pointed out. "That must count for something."

"Papa can manage Mamma only to a point," Elizabeth explained, folding the letter with deliberate care.

"Once she has fixed upon an idea, particularly one involving advantageous marriages for her daughters, she becomes quite impossible to dissuade.

I expect she will find some pretext to travel south within a fortnight at most."

"It will require three days, perhaps four this time of year, and she would have to stop here first, unless the Gardiners return home with her.”

“They will not. Aunt has not seen her relations since she was married. She will not wish to depart early, and my uncle will not require it of her.”

Arabella sat back. “So you have a little time. But not much."