“Anything for you, Richard.” Georgiana moved to the instrument and seated herself to play.
He turned to Darcy. “So, you will have me squander my precious freedom at Rosings Park, listening to our aunt catalogue the failures of her servants?”
Darcy chuckled. “I had hoped for your company. It is difficult to remain at Rosings for any length of time unless one brings an amusing guest to break the monotony.”
Richard laughed. “Darcy, you are fortunate that I consider you a close friend. Otherwise, I should remain in London with my club, my fencing partners, and the occasional ball in pursuit of an heiress.”
Darcy regarded him. “So you are considering marriage? Since when?”
Richard poured himself a glass of port. “I am. I had just secured important connections abroad, and now I am pulled back. They want me to train teams of agents, husbands and wives together, or single men paired with female agents. Apparently, being in a married state will inspire less suspicion. I am not certain the generals have ever been married themselves, or they would know that a quarrelling couple is more conspicuous than a bachelor. I have grown weary of the politics that govern this work. I long for a settled life, where I alone may determine my course, and not be shifted hither and yon at another man’s pleasure.”
Changing the subject, Darcy chuckled and said, “If you require an heiress, why not consider Anne? She has forty-five thousand pounds now. I invested her thirty and increased it. She has Rosings besides.”
Richard nearly choked on his port. “Anne? My cousin? Darcy, if she is such a prize, why have you not secured her?”
Darcy’s expression sobered. “My father was firmly against it. He even set it down in his will. Were I to marry Anne, half my fortune would pass to Georgiana. He believed the family blood too frail. Both my mother and Lady Catherine lost every child except the three of us. He wished me to look elsewhere. Moreover…” Darcy paused. “My heart is not whole. I could not do it to Anne. She deserves better than a husband without affection.”
Richard studied him. “Not whole? Since when? You were impervious in June before I left. Who has undone you?”
Darcy looked down, abashed. “I scarcely wish to speak her name. Yet I cannot rid my thoughts of Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who, at this very moment, is a guest at Hunsford Parsonage.”
Richard laughed aloud, clapping his cousin on the shoulder. “So, the mighty Fitzwilliam Darcy has been felled by a country girl with fine eyes. I suspected you had fallen that morning beneath the oaks on Oakham Mount.”
Darcy sighed. “It is not amusing. I can never have her, and knowing it makes me miserable.”
“Never?” Richard raised a brow. “Is she deformed, unable to birth an heir, or both?”
Darcy flushed. “Richard, you mock me.”
“Not at all. I only ask what fault disqualifies her. I recall her as beautiful, intelligent, and far from simpering. A rare woman indeed. What more do you want?”
Darcy frowned. “She is the daughter of a country gentleman with an inconsequential estate that is, moreover, entailed away from the female line.”
Richard shrugged. “The heir will take the Bennet name. She told me so herself. None needs to know more.”
Darcy shook his head. “She has an uncle in trade, and a mother who proclaims it to every stranger. The youngest sister is an elopement waiting to happen. The family is impossible.”
Richard grinned. “Yet Pembroke does not seem deterred. I hear he courts her openly. I heard him tell you at the ball that the vulgarities of the mother and the waywardness of the youngest can be managed. He sees no obstacles.”
Darcy sighed. “Yes. Pembroke believes Mrs. Bennet and her vulgar tongue may be disregarded, and that the youngest sister may be remediated at a school far removed from him. But there remains the matter of the Netherfield ball. And Elizabethdespises me for separating Bingley from her favorite sister; she told me so at her uncle’s house. I accompanied Bingley to the Gardiners, and she was angry. She told me plainly that had she been a man, she would have called me out. Caroline wrote to her and confessed how she and I encouraged Bingley to part from Jane. So now there are two marks against me. You may imagine how she must hate me now.”
Richard chuckled. “So, you eclipsed your grand blunder, delivered directly to the lady herself and within earshot of half the ballroom, by thrusting yourself into a courtship where you had no business. And you did so with the knowledge, and most likely at the urging, of a jealous cat who would immediately wield it against you. Well done, cousin; you never do things by halves.”
Darcy groaned.
Richard poured another glass. “Very well. I shall accompany you to Rosings. Anne is five and twenty now. She always followed me about as a child. She is quiet, but I have affection for her. Perhaps I shall consider her more seriously. Rosings Park and forty-five thousand pounds are no trifling matter.”
Darcy gave a faint smile. “You may find her more agreeable than you think. I like Anne myself. She is not robust, yet she has sweetness. If you could care for her, you might be surprisingly happy.”
Richard raised his glass. “Then let us see what Kent brings. Rosings for me, Elizabeth for you, though I daresay Aunt Catherine will contrive to spoil both plans with her usual talent for meddling.”
The cousins exchanged a look of mutual resignation, each aware that Kent would prove far from tranquil.
Rosings Park was vast and square, looming above them against a pale October sky. Darcy sat easily upon his mount, yet his mind was not easy. Richard, astride his own horse, raised a brow.
“Cheer up, cousin. Perhaps matters will not prove as ill as you fear. Aunt Catherine will be her usual self, irritating and overbearing, but Miss Elizabeth may yet be brought around. If you would only practice restraint and refrain from saying everything that crosses your mind, you might even gain her forgiveness. I doubt this short visit will suffice to make her like you, but you may try for that as well.”
Darcy did not smile. He answered dryly, “You will regret your levity when Aunt Catherine begins reciting her complaints about the state of the parish.”
