Page 32 of The Talented Daughters of Longbourn

The Billiard Room

Netherfield

Midnight

“Well, I am quite fatigued,” Bingley said, yawning enormously. “I had no idea that studying agriculture was such an exhausting pursuit! If you do not mind, I will retire to my bedchamber.”

Darcy, who had been absently knocking balls around on the billiard table, lifted his head and said, “Of course, Bingley. I hope you sleep well.”

“When tomorrow are you leaving for London?” Bingley asked.

“I think we will not leave until after noon. There is no great urgency to depart early. The journey will be but five and twenty miles.”

“I will see you tomorrow, then,” Bingley said. “Good night, Fitzwilliam. ”

Richard, who was standing at the window gazing into the darkness, turned and said, “Good night, Bingley.”

Darcy watched his friend open the door, step through, close the door, and walk away. He waited another full minute until the sound of Bingley’s boots had faded, and he then turned a curious look on his cousin.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

Richard jerked and made a puzzled expression. “Thinking about? What do you mean?”

“Come, Cousin, I know you well. You have been acting oddly ever since we left Longbourn. Are you grieving the necessity of saying goodbye to Miss Bennet?”

Fitzwilliam stared at him for a long moment, his expression blank, and then abruptly grinned. “No, because Miss Bennet will almost certainly be moving to London in the next week.”

Darcy felt his mouth drop open, and he shook his head. “She is following you?”

“No, it is quite by chance. When we first sat down, she told me that she and Mrs. Bennet, and at least one of the other Bennet daughters, will be moving to London shortly. ”

Darcy mulled over this for a full minute and then said, “She might have heard of our plans to leave for Town through other channels.”

This provoked a bark of laughter from the former colonel who said, “Darcy, those are the words of a handsome, well-connected man who has long been hunted by the ladies of the ton. I am well connected, but I am not particularly good looking, and I am poor. I am confident Miss Bennet is not finding ways to stay in my company; it is merely charming coincidence that we are both journeying to London at about the same time.”

“It seems a very convenient coincidence.”

Richard sighed and took a seat near the fire, then explained, “Their departure has to do with the widowed Mrs. Bennet. The former mistress of Longbourn is unwilling to release her authority in the house, and the new heir, Mr. Josiah Bennet, is equally unwilling to tolerate upheaval with his wife in a delicate condition.”

This made all the sense in the world to Darcy. As much as he valued the Bennet daughters, their mother was vulgar and not sensible. It did not surprise him to learn that she was misbehaving.

“Miss Bennet told you this?” he asked uneasily. It was hardly courteous to speak openly of the poor behavior of one’s mother .

“She was quite subtle,” Richard explained. “I am rather adept at discerning the truth from hints and asides.”

Darcy nodded; he knew this to be true, and he also knew his own difficulty in that arena. He had always struggled with understanding tone and insinuations.

Another thought occurred to him, causing his heart to beat faster.

“You said an additional sister is going?” Darcy asked as nonchalantly as he could manage. “Do you know which sister?”

“I do not,” Fitzwilliam said, and his eyes narrowed in amusement. “I suspected as much. You are attracted to Miss Elizabeth!”

Darcy compressed his lips and then turned back to the billiard table. He picked up the cue, applied chalk, and hit a yellow ball randomly. “I am, yes, but she is poorly connected and thus not an appropriate bride for me.”

“That is idiocy,” Fitzwilliam said irritably, stalking closer to his cousin. “Miss Elizabeth is the daughter of a gentleman. She is intelligent, well bred, clever, and kind. Your concerns are – not to put too fine a point of it – asinine.”

Darcy straightened and gazed into Richard’s face, surprised at the anger in his usually calm cousin’s tone .

“Why are you upset?” he asked in confusion.

“Why?” Richard retorted, grabbing a cue and beginning to rapidly shoot balls into pockets.

“ Why ? Because I am greatly attracted ... nay, I believe I may be in love with a handsome, charming lady and yet I do not feel confident that I can offer for her. I do not have a good income, and I will not marry Miss Bennet if I cannot appropriately care for her and any potential children. I have never envied you your wealth, Darcy, truly, but at this moment I do. Because you can marry as you wish, without concern for money.”

Darcy stood still at these words, his mind whirling. Yes, he had great wealth, it was true, but with great wealth came much responsibility.

“I am expected to wed a lady with a large dowry and excellent connections,” he said, though his voice sounded odd in his own ears.

“By my father? By our aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh? If the former, he has no power over you. If the latter, well, she has no power over you either, and of course she wishes you to marry our Cousin Anne, no one else!”

Darcy groaned softly at these words. Anne de Bourgh, the only child of their mutual aunt, was heiress to the vast estate of Rosings in Kent.

She had been intended for Darcy’s older brother Harold, but when Harold died, Lady Catherine set her sights on Darcy.

She wished, above all, to unite Pemberley and Rosings through marriage.

It was a reasonable enough desire in a country where land ownership meant political power.

The problem was that Cousin Anne was thin, sickly, and perhaps more reserved than he, and Darcy did not want to marry her.

He wished her no harm, but he felt not the slightest hint of attraction toward her.

Furthermore, Pemberley needed an heir, and Anne was so delicate that a pregnancy might kill her.

Darcy sighed and asked, “So do you intend to call on Miss Bennet in London?”

“Yes.”

“But why? If you do not believe you have enough income to wed the lady, is it fair to call upon her?”

Richard groaned aloud, tossed the cue down and strode over to pour himself a glass of Madeira from a tray sitting conveniently nearby.

“That is my struggle,” he said, after taking a deliberate sip of the alcohol.

“I do have enough to marry, but only if my wife is willing to live with a comparatively small income. I admire Miss Bennet very much, but I do not yet know her attitude about money. She dresses very well, as you have doubtless noticed, and she is so handsome, and so charming, that she could probably find a rich man to marry who could give her everything she needs and wants.”

“But she already turned down a rich man because she did not love him,” Darcy pointed out.

“Precisely. Nor do I know if she would accept an offer from me. I am confident that she likes me as a man, but there is much that is still unknown.”

He paused again, took a drink, and then continued, “Moreover, there was an odd exchange wherein Miss Bennet indicated that she has an additional source of income, though it was not clear how much, or where it comes from.”

Darcy mulled this over for a minute and then said, “But you are determined, nonetheless, to call on her, in spite of the uncertainty?”

“I am,” Richard said firmly, and then repeated, more softly, “I am. Darcy, I have spent most of my life assuming that I would marry for wealth. Now, I have met a lady whom I genuinely admire and love. If I knew she would be happy with me, I would marry her tomorrow.”

Darcy stared in wonder, and he felt his heart race within him.

He too had always assumed that he would marry for money and connections, even after becoming the heir to Pemberley; if not Anne de Bourgh, well, there were dozens of young ladies in London, some wealthy, some beautiful, some well-connected, some combining all three attributes, who would be pleased to wed the master of a great estate.

“You are a second son,” he said abruptly.

Richard frowned. “Yes, hence my small income and my difficulty in offering for the lady I admire.”

“But your brother the viscount,” Darcy began, and stopped.

“What about Adam?”

“He is the heir to the earldom, and his wife is the daughter of an earl herself. They have three sons, so the succession is secure. You therefore do not have quite the same … responsibility regarding your choice of a wife.”

The former colonel tilted his head in consideration and then said, “I suppose there is some truth to that. If I do have the privilege of marrying Miss Bennet, I daresay my parents will not be overjoyed, but they will not care all that much. As you said, Adam did a fine job of siring sons.”

“But I am the only remaining Darcy male in the direct line. I feel that I have an obligation to marry well, for the sake of the estate, and for Georgiana’s sake as well. She will one day enter society, and given how shy she is, she will need my wife to assist her. ”

Richard snorted and said, “Well, then you ought not to marry Anne, as she knows nothing of society. But Darcy, my mother would be pleased to help both Georgiana and any hypothetical wife.”

There was truth to that.

“Furthermore,” Richard continued, “I think we need only look to our liege to see the results of forcing one’s child to marry outside of his inclinations.”

Darcy shuddered at this comment. The current Prince Regent had been forced to marry his cousin, Caroline of Brunswick, some fifteen years previously. The couple had more or less loathed each other on sight and had separated after producing one child, the heiress to the crown, Princess Charlotte.

“I am only a retired military man, and a mere second son,” Richard said, “but I think it wise for husband and wife to genuinely esteem one another.”

Again, Darcy’s mind’s eye filled with the pleasing form of Elizabeth Bennet, her bright eyes, her piquant face.

“Thank you, Cousin,” he said. “You have given me much to think about.”