Happily, Fitzwilliam claimed a brother’s privilege and spoke plainly. “You are not acquainted with the bride or her family, and have no reasonable expectation of an invitation.”
Saye pressed a hand against his chest, feigning shock and outrage. “I know Bingley, do I not?”
“Bingley will not mind,” Hurst offered. “You could bring twelve friends and he would be delighted.”
“You dislike him,” Darcy reminded Saye.
“I have no idea why you say that. Bingley can be a charming lad.”
“I say it because you do not recognise him. You delight in very nearly cutting him every time you see him.”
That made Hurst laugh.
“I should not say Idelightin it,” Saye replied. “I undertake it as my duty such that the distinction of rank may be preserved.”
“And thus—why would he invite you to attend his wedding? A wedding in a place of no consequence where you would mix with people of little distinction.”
“Because,” Saye replied, drawing the word out, “I want to. Not only that, I am needed. Who else can oversee this contest? Someone must be there to ensure that fairness and honour are upheld.”
Darcy rubbed a hand across his forehead. The headache which had been plaguing him since that night in the parsonage, when Elizabeth rejected him so scathingly, was making itself known with greater insistence. “It is neither my place, nor Fitzwilliam’s or Hurst’s, to issue an invitation to you.”
“I do not need your invitation.” On their looks, he insisted, “I do not! As the old proverb goes—everyone loves a viscount.”
“What proverb is that, exactly?” Fitzwilliam asked with a laugh.
“None that I have ever heard of,” Darcy grumbled. He wished he was as easy as Fitzwilliam, and could sit and listen to Saye’s rattles and nonsense with a chuckle. Alas, he could not—not with the prospect of losing Elizabeth hanging over his head.
“Nothing is better than a viscount at the party. All the enjoyment of rank and wealth with few of the responsibilities of an earldom. A merry lot are we, and always welcome wherever we go,” Saye informed them all with a royal flourish of his hand. “And that is just what Bingley wrote in reply to my note where I informed him that he would honour me greatly by inviting me to attend. It is all settled already, so your views on the matter are quite unnecessary.”
It seemed there was nothing Darcy could do to stop this—not the contest, not the wagers, not even Saye inviting himself to aplace he had no right to be, and would likely despise once he got there.
What a hypocrite I am, he mused, watching as Saye waved over the servant to bring fresh drinks.Taking Elizabeth to task for the misbehaviour of her family when I am attached to people equally indecorous and, like her, can do nothing for it.
Darcy stood up so abruptly it nearly sent his chair tumbling, causing his cousins and Hurst to stop talking and stare at him. “Monday, first light,” he said tersely before taking his leave of them.
CHAPTER FOUR
Once Darcy had gone, a short silence fell before Hurst looked at Saye and said, “Must have been you, I suppose, who sent Bingley that fine Cognac he showed me last night?”
“I may know someone who gets it for me.”
“Very handsome.” Hurst made vague excuses about meeting people, clapped Saye on the back, nodded to Fitzwilliam, then left, likely going to the card room. Fitzwilliam knew no one who liked to gamble so much as Hurst and his elder brother did.
Once Hurst was safely out of earshot, Saye gave him an appraising look. “I cannot account for the fact that this hare-brained scheme of yours seems to be working.”
“I am a strategist, big brother, through and through.”
Saye scoffed. “Pray do not think that tottering about on a few battlefields makes you some expert tactician.”
“One thing I can assure you of is that this play-acting business is far more difficult than ever I had supposed,” Fitzwilliam confessed. “I cannot like how cruel I had to be to Darcy to properly goad him into action.”
“Eh.” Saye shrugged. “The two of you have always had the ability to fight viciously one minute and shake hands the next. I am sure he thought it no different.”
“For the woman he loves? Thatisdifferent.”
“But he is not thinking of that. His only thoughtnowis for winning her. It will not be until later that he might consider the cruelty of your actions, perhaps even doubt them. We can only hope that by then, he will be happily married and no longer care how it came about.”
“And what if everyone learns that I never had any intention of marrying the lady?”
