“This might be a legitimate concern had you married almost any other woman of your acquaintance, but you and I both know, Elizabeth did not marry you for your house.”
“I know. But I dislike that I cannot give her the things a wife of mine ought to have—parties, dinners, balls. A single day that is not interrupted by some new disaster.”
Fitzwilliam chuckled and slapped him soundly on the shoulder. “I am sure you will have the chance soon enough. In the meantime, take it from a man who has known plenty of miserable women—your wife is the very opposite of downcast. I shall not insult you by asking how you put such a magnificent smile on her face, but whatever it was, I daresay if you keep doing it, all will be perfectly well.”
Darcy had time to do no more than glare at this indelicacy before his cousin continued, “Speaking of the pleasures of marriage, Georgiana received a fair amount of interest while we were in town.”
“From whom?”
“Mostly just pups, gazing longingly across the theatre, but there were some more notable names sniffing around. Londonderry, Prinsep, the youngest Duncan-Bryre. She did not seem to notice, but I thought I should mention it, for it will not be long before we must begin to consider an alliance. And after last summer, it may be prudent not to wait too long.”
Darcy stared grimly at the carpet. Fitzwilliam and he shared the guardianship of Georgiana, but as her brother, the onus of ensuring her well-being weighed particularly heavily upon him.
“Yes, I share your enthusiasm for the matter,” Fitzwilliam went on. “Would you like to know what conclusion I have come to?”
“Go on.”
“It is that this gives us both even more reason to rejoice in your connubial bliss, for surely Elizabeth will manage this business better than you or I could ever hope to.”
Darcy brightened instantly. “That is a heartening thought. Just when I thought she could not bring me any more joy.”
“I am beginning to see your point, though. It does seem an exceedingly one-sided arrangement, this marriage of yours.”
The latter part of this exchange, which Darcy relayed to Elizabeth later that night as they sat together before the fire in their bedchamber, diverted her no end.
“This is rich! You despised my mother for her hopes of Jane marrying Bingley. Now you would have me do the same for Georgiana.”
“I take it all back. Pray do not abandon me to the task. You have seen the extent of my romantic abilities. Do not condemn my sister to the same fate.”
“That would be cruel indeed!” She nudged him affectionately, in her sweet way, and he tried to pull her closer but could scarcely get his arm around her.
“Why are you wrapped in so many blankets?” He tried to peel one back, but she fought him, laughing.
“Because I am cold—get off!”
He gave up and settled for letting her rest her head on his shoulder. He kissed her crown and asked, “What did you make of my aunt and uncle?”
“I see what you meant about Lady Matlock. She is very kind, but a little like a rabbit caught in lantern light. I was worried I would frighten her if I spoke above a whisper.”
“As long as shewaskind.”
“She was certainly notunkind. I am not sure either of them knows quite what to do with me. It is as though they want to approve but think they will be in trouble if they do.” Elizabeth yawned deeply as she added, “Perhaps with Lady Catherine.”
“Enough talk,” Darcy said. He scooped Elizabeth up, blankets and all, and carried her to the bed. “You are going to sleep, Mrs Darcy.”
Elizabeth made no objection, except when he unrolled her from the blankets, but she was easily placated when he wrapped her in his arms instead. He watched her for a long while after she fell asleep, feeling every bit of the happiness his cousin had observed in him, and praying that Elizabeth’s would last beyond their return to Pemberley.
* * *
After breakfast the following day, he and Elizabeth walked with Fitzwilliam and Georgiana into Matlock Bath. On their return, Darcy left Elizabeth to enjoy a peaceful afternoon in the saloon with his aunt and sister while he spoke to his uncle. It was a conversation he was obliged to grit his teeth throughout, for Lord Matlock wished to advise him about matters at Pemberley. It was not that he did not appreciate his uncle’s concern, but such counsel as ‘do not trust architects, they are all imbeciles,’ and ‘do not be tempted to sell Pemberley at a reduced price,’ were unhelpful, to say the least.
Dinner was a more enjoyable affair. Darcy was seated next to his aunt, an arrangement they always favoured, for both were content with the other’s silence. He was surprised, therefore, when she leant to speak to him quietly.
“We are delighted for you, Darcy. It is about time you had some good fortune. Your marriage will surprise people, of course, and some will be immoveable in their contempt, but society in general is not as shallow as Lady Catherine believes. Nobody cares anymore that Mrs Prestbury was an actress before she married, do they? You never hear of anybody slighting Lady Aubrey, despite her uncle owning a string of abattoirs. It is the shock of the thing that will cause a stir. Once that dies down, and the world sees what a treasure you have in Elizabeth, it will all be forgot.”
“You think Elizabeth is a treasure?” It filled Darcy with pride to hear her say it, though it seemed a hasty turnabout from the uncertainty Elizabeth claimed to have perceived in her the previous day.
“She is a charming creature. Quite lively, I will not deny, but that is a good thing in this modern world. We all need shaking up a bit, I think.”
