"No, no, I talked her out of that. She is to be a moth."
"Well, that is certainly an improvement," he said dryly.
"It is, really. A moth is almost a butterfly. Which would be almost normal for a lady's costume."
"Have you seen the costume?"
"No, she is being rather private about it."
"It will not be normal. It will not even be almost normal."
"Yes, I know. She may be stunningly beautiful, but we will never fool anyone for any length of time into thinking that she is normal, and I have no wish to try. I know I am her chaperon and thus I am supposed to be trying to find her a husband, but it is going to take a very particular sort of gentleman—"
"She has already turned down one such particular sort of gentleman," Darcy interrupted.
I sighed. This topic had already caused an argument between us just two days prior when the incident occurred. Mr. Farthingham had made Dora an offer of marriage. I thought it rather precipitous given the brevity of their acquaintance, however at the end of February he would be leaving England on a scientific expedition and had wanted Dora to accompany him as his wife.
"I cannot believe you would wish her to marry Mr. Farthingham after his most insulting proposal."
"I do not see that it was insulting. He is a man of good connections and a respectable enough income—Dora has only herself and her lineage to recommend her. He was simplyinforming her that he had considered the disadvantages of her situation prior to making a proposal of marriage. One would think a sensible woman would appreciate such circumspection."
Sometimes—because, I must admit, most of the time he goes around doing and saying only intelligent things—I forget that Darcy is a complete and total idiot.
I broke off a large piece of muffin and stuffed it in my mouth, chewing very deliberately to keep myself from saying something incendiary such as, "Darcy, you are a complete and total idiot." I had no wish to argue with him about this. We had already argued about it once and he had lost. Conquering him so resoundingly again would just be cruel.
When I felt I had gained enough control to speak reasonably I said, "From the way she tells it Mr. Farthingham laid out all her deficiencies then elucidated the few ways that she might be of use to him. Hardly romantic."
"He was complimenting her artistic talent by explaining how she might assist him by illustrating his research."
"It was a compliment to her talent yes, but not to her own ambitions. Birds and beetles may not seem so different to us, but the distinction is apparently very important to her and she has made it very clear she would rather spend her time pursuing her own interest than assisting him with his." Dora had explained her refusal most adamantly. I never knew her to speak so many words at once.
"It matters little anyway," said Darcy, "She has refused him, and I think it unlikely for a man once refused to display such weakness as to make a second proposal to the same woman."
"I fear you are right."
As foolish as Mr. Farthingham's proposal had been, I do think Dora likes him thus I cannot help but feel disappointed for them both.
"She could always stay here. It is not so essential that she get married, is it?" I asked.
"No, but you must see that her life will be very limited if she does not marry."
I thought it might sound ungrateful to point out that her life would be very limited in different ways if she were to marry, so I held my tongue (a rare occurrence, I know). While I do not necessarily feel limited by my own marriage I cannot deny that the limits are there. But I do think our marriage is worth it. Darcy is worth it.
After a long silence as we both tended to our breakfast I ventured a question, "Is that the sort of proposal you would have made to me? Offensively matter-of-fact?"
Darcy laughed. "I never would have proposed to you at all," he said, then he returned to his breakfast as if he had not said anything heartrendingly vicious.
Twenty-Two
6thJanuary, 1812
The Ball
Morning, very early indeed
I never would have proposed to you at all.
Bloody bastard.
