“In answer to your first comment,” said Fitzwilliam, “I cannot blame you for espousing my feelings in every particular. Trust me, Darcy—I am much better acquainted with her character than you are; I look on her presence with more horror than you can imagine.
“As for your question . . .”
The way Fitzwilliam trailed off and the savage glee that accompanied his pause, Darcy had no choice but to give in to his mirth. By this time, having spent much time in this man’s company, he had begun to esteem him almost as much as Bingley. While there was no blood connection between them, Darcy regarded Fitzwilliam as if he were Darcy’s relation and not the cousin of his cousin.
“The choice is yours, of course,” said Fitzwilliam, pushing his humor away, “for youarethe master of Pemberley. The ruckus she will raise at being denied the house over which her sister presided may well echo to my father’s home thirty miles to the south of here, but I cannot imagine he will blame you for it. Father has no greater tolerance for his sister than I do, and in some ways less patience.”
Darcy looked about the room, an absent nod for Fitzwilliam’s opinion. Though Darcy had been here for some time now, Pemberley and the room in which they sat still did not feel like they were his own. It would be some time before they did, he mused; in many ways, the past weeks still felt like a dream from which he must awake.
“I suppose it is best to attempt good relations with her,” said Darcy, though reluctant.
“No, I cannot say you are incorrect. Given what I know of my aunt, I suspect she wishes to ensure the estate is still managed in a way she deems necessary and ensure you will not shame the family with your unfashionable manners. When she is satisfied—and when she becomes insulted that we do not listen to her—she will desist and depart. Rare has been the time that Aunt Catherine is away from Rosings Park, even for a short time, so she will not wish to stay long.”
“Then perhaps we may endure her.”
“Aye, let us hope we can.”
Darcy regarded his friend. “You mentioned that she manages her own estate?”
“In Kent,” agreed Fitzwilliam. “It is a de Bourgh property of her husband’s family, but Lady Catherine keeps it in trust for her daughter.”
Darcy frowned. “From what I have heard, Miss de Bourgh is of age.”
“That she is. However, Anne’s health is indifferent, and she is not inclined to challenge her mother’s authority at present.” Fitzwilliam gazed into the distance, seeing nothing. “In some ways, I am surprised that Anne did not accompany her mother.”
“Oh?” asked Darcy when Fitzwilliam did not elaborate.
Fitzwilliam shook himself free of his introspection. “According to Lady Catherine, Anne was destined to become the mistress of Pemberley.”
That got Darcy’s attention. “Yes, I recall hearing something of an engagement.”
“Please, Darcy,” said Fitzwilliam. “You give my aunt far too much credit. There was no engagement, but Lady Catherine has insisted for many years to anyone who will listen—and a fair few who will not—that she agreed with her sister to an engagement between Jameson Darcy and her daughter.”
“A cradle agreement?” asked Darcy, mystified. “Lady Catherine and her sister may have agreed all they liked, but if there is no contract, her assertions are nothing more than wishes.”
“You have the right of it,” said Fitzwilliam with a nod. “Morgan Darcy, my cousin’s father, put no stock in Lady Catherine’s claims and did not hesitate to contradict her ladyship if she raised the subject in his presence.”
“That could not have been palatable to Lady Catherine.”
Fitzwilliam snorted. “It appears you have taken her measure already, Darcy. Lady Catherine does not appreciateanyonegainsaying her, but my uncle was one of the few who managed it, for he was not a man to tolerate foolishness. On one occasion, he ordered her to refrain from speaking of it or return to Rosings. As it was a Christmas gathering at Pemberley, Lady Catherine had no choice but to remain silent, for he would have thrown her from the house had he felt it necessary.”
“What did his wife say on the subject?” asked Darcy.
“This occurred long after my aunt’s passing. To the best of my knowledge, Lady Anne never spoke of the matter to anyone, least of all her son and husband. Even if she had, Morgan Darcy believed that his son was best positioned to determine the qualifications he required in a wife. The disagreement became so intense that they were rarely in each other’s company in the last few years of his life, and when they were, the first words from his mouth were a warning for her to hold her tongue.”
“Then your cousin espoused the same opinion as his father?”
Fitzwilliam sipped at his drink, remembering that he held it in his hand. “In truth, I do not know what my cousin meant to do. Darcy was taciturn to the point of being uncommunicative, keeping his thoughts to himself, not even confiding in a close cousin. In this instance, however, he intimated more than once that he had no intention of offering for Anne; that he never offered for her even though she is now five and twenty, further supports the notion that he had no intention of yielding to Lady Catherine’s demands.”
“The lady is to be much pitied,” said Darcy. “Her fondest wish is now an impossibility. I might wonder how she will ever cope.”
That struck Fitzwilliam as hilarious. “It is possible that he said nothing to avoid a fight. In my experience, Darcy never paid attention to any young woman if he could avoid it. We spoke of marriage and his need for an heir often enough. He understood his duty, but perhaps he did not believe the uproar in the family was necessary until he found a woman he wished to marry.”
There were several drawbacks Darcy could think of to his cousin’s supposed strategy, but little reason to speak of them. What his cousin did was his business, and Darcy could not say that he was wrong.
“Then that is a difference between us,” said Darcy, “for all that several mutual acquaintances have commented on the similarities in our characters.”
Fitzwilliam’s eyes swung to Darcy. “Oh?”
