Page 23 of Love Drunk for Mr Darcy

Fitzwilliam entered carrying a cup of coffee and looking offensively cheerful. His gaze went at once to the three sealed letters upon Darcy’s desk.

"Busy morning?"

"You do realise it is customary to knock, cousin?"

Fitzwilliam ignored the comment and folded himself into the chair beside the desk. He took a long drink of his coffee and nodded towards the letter on top of the pile. "Mr Bennet?"

"Yes." Darcy hoped the terse reply would prevent further interrogation. He was wrong.

His cousin stopped with the cup halfway to his mouth. "Has Miss Bennet actually agreed to be wed to you?"

Darcy did not care for his tone. "There is no other possible course of action and no reason to delay."

Fitzwilliam smiled at him, an infuriatingly superior smile. "She is not the sort of woman who will appreciate being backed into a corner."

"I am not backing her into a corner."

"No, not one bit. You have commanded her to marry you and written to her father before receiving her answer." He tipped his head towards the stack of letters. "And if I know you at all, you have begun arranging the settlement. Entirely different."

Darcy rose from the desk and moved towards the window, irritation prickling beneath his skin. "What would you have me do? Pretend that last night did not occur? If anyone learns that we spent the night alone together, her reputation will be ruined."

"I am not suggesting you do nothing. I am suggesting that, somewhere amongst all this honour and efficiency, you remember that Miss Bennet is expected to agree to the marriage as well."

Darcy turned back towards him. "She will agree."

Fitzwilliam lifted his brows.

Darcy disliked the expression immensely. "She must," he added.

"Ah. Much better."

Darcy glared at him, but Fitzwilliam only took another drink of coffee, plainly enjoying himself.

Darcy thought of Elizabeth standing in the parsonage kitchen with her arms folded, glaring at him while his coat hung loosely around her small frame. His confidence faltered slightly. "I will speak to her again."

"Excellent," Fitzwilliam said, slapping his knee.

"And this time, I will explain the matter properly."

Fitzwilliam’s mouth twitched. "Even better."

Darcy narrowed his eyes. "You appear to find this very amusing."

"I find you very amusing, my impressively dour and love-sick cousin. The situation itself is rather serious."

"Your sympathy is overwhelming."

"I have plenty of sympathy. It is only that I think the greater share belongs to Miss Bennet."

Darcy gave him a fierce look which Fitzwilliam received with infuriating good humour, then turned away before his cousin could offer any further observations. He had no intention of discussing Elizabeth’s feelings when he understood so little of them himself. She had looked furious when he spoke of marriage that morning, but somehow he must persuade her to agree. He told himself it was because marriage was the only honourable course left to them, though the thought of her refusing him again filled him with panic he did not want to examine too closely.

Before Darcy could answer, another knock came at the door. This time one of Lady Catherine’s footmen entered, looking pained. Darcy suspected the man had endured his aunt's displeasure. "Her ladyship requests your presence in the drawing room, sir. Colonel Fitzwilliam also."

Fitzwilliam stood with a sigh. "I knew the morning was going too well."

Darcy reached for the letters upon his desk and handed them to the servant. He indicated the one addressed to Mr Bennet and said, "Have this sent by express immediately." The man bowed and withdrew, and Darcy had barely heard the door close before he became aware that Fitzwilliam was smiling at him again.

"What?" he said, thoroughly sick of his cousin’s attentions.