Page 37 of Most Truly the Gentleman

“Miss Lucas.”

“Yes.” Fitzwilliam smirked. “Miss Lucas. Eldest daughter of Sir William. Dark hair, green eyes? I believe you have met.”

“But she is…”

“You should think very carefully about what you mean to say of the lady to whom I am considering making a proposal of marriage,” the colonel suggested with deceptive mildness.

That brought Darcy up short. He proceeded with greater caution. “What I mean to say is that you and Miss Elizabeth seem so well-matched in wit and temperament, and there are few who would deny that she is a handsome lady, as well.”

Bingley ostentatiously cleared his throat. Darcy chose to ignore it, though he shuddered inwardly at that reminder of what he had so carelessly said on his first evening in company with Miss Elizabeth.

“Too well-matched, I should say. Even were I willing to court the only woman towards whom you have ever shown a real inclination,” he said pointedly, “marrying Miss Elizabeth Bennet would be like marrying a female version of myself, though I will admit she is slightly prettier than I am.” He flashed a grin at Bingley, who was now laughing helplessly, sprawled out in his chair like a boy. Returning his attention to Darcy, he added, “Miss Lucas has wit and humour enough, I assure you, but it was her calm good sense that first attracted my notice, and her genuine care for her family and friends which heightened my interest. I may not be a romantic like Bingley here, but neither have I any desire to marry a cold woman. I want a true companion in life, and I want my children to know they are valued and loved by both of their parents.”

Darcy swallowed. He respected his uncle, Fitzwilliam’s father, but he was not blind to the fact that the man showed more care and attention to his allies in Parliament than to his younger children. “And you believe you have found that true companion in Miss Lucas?”

“I may have. I am interested, and determined to know her better. All the occasions of the Christmas season will give me ample opportunity to do so. Ask me again after Twelfth Night, and I dare say I shall have made up my mind.”

“You said you are not romantic—does this mean you are not in love with her?” Bingley asked curiously.

“I am not. To be frank, I have never been in love and may be incapable of such sentiment. I do like her very well, however. I feel respect for her and an attraction to her, and I believe that where there are real regard and commonality of purpose, affection must always deepen over time. That is more than I ever expected to have, and I shall be vastly contented if that is what I receive.” He drained his glass and stood. “On that note, gentlemen, good night. We must ride early to see the post and Wickham off at eight, Cousin.”

Darcy nodded, and Bingley said, “I will join you, if I may. I must learn to keep country hours.”

“A vigorous ride before breakfast is just the thing to shake London’s cobwebs off your brain,” Fitzwilliam agreed. He bowed and left them.

Bingley regarded Darcy speculatively. “What think you truly of this business with Fitzwilliam and Miss Lucas?”

Darcy turned his glass in his hand, watching the golden liquid move as he ordered his thoughts. “In a prudential sense, of course, he could do a great deal better. But as the heir to a fairly substantial property, he is a man who answers to none but himself. If he believes he will be happy with the lady, then I do not see why he should not please himself. My uncle will certainly be galled by his choice, as the viscount has yet to marry and secure the succession, but neither has he any real means of compelling Fitzwilliam’s obedience.”

Bingley hummed thoughtfully. With a resolutely direct air, he asked, “And have you considered applying that logic to yourself?”

“What do you mean?”

“You are a man of property, beholden to no one. Why should you not pursue Miss Elizabeth? It is clear that you find her compelling. And, of course, you and I would end as brothers, if we are both successful.”

“I am beholden to my sister’s future,” he replied gravely. “And I am expected to marry with an eye to the credit of the Darcy name.”

“I cannot pretend to understand the weight of the expectations upon you. For all that my sisters declare I must marry a lady of wealth and breeding, if I should win Miss Bennet, everyone else would congratulate me on having secured a gentleman’s daughter, and think no more of it. But your cousin is the son of an earl, and not so very far from holding the title himself, yet you seem to think the daughter of a country knight who once owned a shop is acceptable for him. Why may not you, the son of a gentleman of no title, marry the daughter of a gentleman? As to your sister, well. I should say that any man who would reject Miss Darcy because her brother wed a perfectly respectable lady cannot possibly deserve her.”

Darcy was torn. Bingley spoke sense and temptation together, but also in his ear was the voice of his father, exhorting him to marry a lady who would be a credit to the family, an able mistress of Pemberley, and a worthy ancestor to future generations of Darcys. Yet now, for the first time, he wondered what his father had truly meant by that. To most of society, a lady was a credit to the family she married into if she brought wealth or connexions or both, yet George Darcy had been a liberal-minded man with friends of all sorts, including his own steward. He had approved of Bingley when Darcy brought him to Pemberley one summer, to visit for a fortnight before continuing on to his own family farther north. Darcy felt sure that his father would have liked Miss Elizabeth, too. Would he have considered her wit and warmth and beauty to be ‘credit’ enough?

“You have given me much to consider, Bingley, and I cannot answer you.”

“I am satisfied that you are willing to contemplate another view on the subject. I should like to see you happy, Darcy, as you were before your father died. If we are fortunate, my friend, life is long. Will a dowry lighten your heart for fifty years? I think not.”

Darcy had no rebuttal to that, nor did he wish to make one. He remained in the study long after Bingley retired, pondering his words and Fitzwilliam’s, and remembering how happy his own parents had been together. Surely, he concluded deep in the reaches of the night, they would wish similar felicity for him. Would they not?

24

AUNTS & ENTAILS

Bingley arrived at the stables the next morning rumpled and bleary-eyed, but punctual. Despite his late night, Darcy had risen with the sun as always and looked to the ride to revive him. Fitzwilliam alone was lively, teasing his cousin and host for being soft. They set out for Meryton in the early morning chill, the frosted grass crackling softly beneath their mounts’ hooves. They made a little desultory conversation as they traversed the two miles to the town but were largely content to ride in silence.

What little conversation there was centred on Miss Bingley. Her brother explained that, as promised, he had made clear to her that Darcy was aware of and displeased by her cavalier treatment of Miss Darcy’s good name in furtherance of her schemes, and that he himself was not well-pleased with being painted as feckless and insincere by his own sister. She had, he related, protested that she had believed every word of what she had written, and that no one who had seen him and Miss Darcy together could think that there was no attachment between them.

“I told her that I did not believe that for a moment, but even if it were true, it ought not have been bruited about, and I said again that both of you were quite angry about it. She had sense enough to avoid your company last night, but though I advised her to apologise, I expect she will wish to pretend it never happened. I will require her to apologise if you wish it, and I have made it plain that should she attempt to interfere in my life again, I will have no hesitation in removing her from my household.”

Darcy and Fitzwilliam both disclaimed any desire to be offered insincere apologies, though they would of course accept any she chose to offer, and the subject was allowed to rest. The letter had been destroyed, Miss Bingley was aware that her scheme had been uncovered and earned Darcy’s ire, and if she had learnt to step more carefully in future, that would do.