“How well I know it.” Richard sighed. “Maybe I ought to marry Anne myself. Miss Wilson, sadly, married a baronet from Staffordshire. Uniting with my cousin would certainly benefit me. She is not disagreeable—timid, to be sure, but I am gregarious enough for two. I could resign my commission—that would please my parents.”
“If a marriage of that nature is what you desire, you have my blessing. Anne deserves some measure of happiness. I often wonder why my mother differed so greatly from her sister. I was raised gently. My mother taught me my worth, though my own feelings of inferiority have often caused me to forget it. Has Lady Catherine ever loved poor Anne? She disparages and criticizes.”
His cousin shrugged and leaned forward, reaching for the hamper of food. “It is worth considering. The last time I was on the Continent, I had a close encounter with the enemy I would rather not repeat.” He looked away briefly—whatever memory had surfaced, he suppressed it swiftly. “Perhaps I shall mention it to Anne, and see if she would be willing to enter into an arrangement of convenience. I would be kind to her—and faithful. It would be a far better situation than she has known for years.”
“Cheese, Darcy? Richard offered suddenly. “I am famished.”
They ate in companionable silence. Darcy’s thoughts moved in rhythm with the carriage wheels, tumbling one over the next. He wondered whether Elizabeth had yet been introduced to his aunt, and what she had made of her. He had little good to say of Lady Catherine, and he continued assisting with the estateonly out of respect for his father. George Darcy had managed everything at Rosings after Sir Lewis’s death—at least until his own passing five years before.
“Bromley.” Richard nodded toward the window. The carriage had slowed and now entered the yard of the coaching inn. Two grooms approached and began to change the horses. “I need to stretch my legs.” His cousin opened the door and climbed down.
“I believe I shall join you.” Darcy followed. The yard smelled strongly of horse and sweat. People passed swiftly in all directions, going about their business. He and Richard strolled a short way from the bustle and paused in the shade of a broad tree. Out of habit, Darcy kept his hat tilted low, hiding his blemish. He caught himself at once.Blemish?His mother, were she here, would be disappointed in him for thinking of it in such terms.
Elizabeth makes it easier to bear.Had I not been a fool, I would even now be enjoying her company.
There was no use bemoaning the past. All he could do was hope she would allow him to apologize.And even if she does, it does not follow that she will allow me to renew my addresses.The thought churned his stomach, and he drew in a deep breath and exhaled to ease the nausea.
Pray, Elizabeth. Do not turn me away. I could not bear it if you did.
Within fifteen minutes, the carriage was back on the road to Hunsford. Two hours or so of travel still lay ahead, but by the morrow, Darcy would see Elizabeth again. He wondered where he might encounter her. Surely, she would be outdoors walking the paths surrounding Rosings Park.Perhaps I ought to call at the parsonage with Richard first.And then what? He might contrive a meeting—somewhere private—so they could speak openly without interruption.
Richard dozed, leaving Darcy alone with his thoughts. He turned over countless possibilities in his mind, yet by the time the carriage rolled to a stop, no firm plan had taken shape. Weary, he climbed down, followed by a still-groggy Colonel Fitzwilliam.
“You had best be coherent when we face our aunt,” Darcy warned. “She will not take kindly to our early arrival, especially without notice.”
“You did not write?” Richard gaped, then laughed. “You are mistaken, Cousin—she will see it as proof you mean to marry Anne at last. I do not envy you!” He bounded up the steps ahead of him.
Shaking his head, Darcy followed more slowly. His cousin waited at the top of the stairs. The door opened without them knocking, and Rosings’ long-time butler, Stanley, greeted them with his usual solemnity. “Lady Catherine has been informed of your arrival,” he intoned. “She demands to see you before you go upstairs.”
“Lead on, Stanley,” Richard declared. “I am certain my aunt cannot wait to welcome us.” He chuckled under his breath and nudged Darcy with his elbow.
They followed the butler down the hall. Darcy noted several changes since his last visit, frowning slightly as he considered the cost. Four new paintings lined the entrance hall, none of which he recognized. No doubt more would be found in his aunt’s favorite drawing room. As they were announced, he glanced around. The furnishings had, indeed, changed there as well.
“Darcy! Fitzwilliam! You were not meant to arrive for another three weeks. How very rude to surprise me in this fashion. You ought to feel fortunate that I had your rooms prepared last week; otherwise you would have nowhere to sleep.” Darcy steppedforward and kissed her cheek, murmuring a polite greeting. Richard followed and did the same, though with a broader smile.
“I could hardly wait to see you, Aunt,” Richard said warmly. “I had to persuade Darcy to come early. He wasterriblybusy with estate business, but ever the devoted cousin, he cleared his schedule to accommodate me. Now—where is Anne? I do not see her.” He looked about the room as though their cousin might appear from behind the settee.
“Anne is upstairs changing. When we heard you were here, she insisted on donning on a more becoming gown to welcome Darcy—and you, of course.” Lady Catherine turned to her other nephew. “I hope you intend to fulfill your duty, Darcy. She has waited long enough.”
“I do not understand your meaning.” Darcy kept his features impassive. “I am as eager to see my cousin as Richard.”
“Richard has no reason to beeager.”Lady Catherine frowned. “Must I remind you of your obligation? Anne is perfectly suited to you. You even share the same…traits. It is exactly what your mother wished. Uniting Pemberley and Rosings Park will make you one of the wealthiest men in all England.”
“If wealth were my primary concern, I would consider your suggestion, Aunt. Since it is not, there is nothing more to say on the matter.” He maintained his impassive demeanor, hoping she would let the subject drop.
“How can you say that?” she cried, raising her voice. “Given your deformity, no one else will want you. Since Anne shares your unfortunate malady, she can have no cause to complain. Darcy—do you think handsome ladies will accept you? My dear sister filled your head with fairytales and foolish dreams of love. You are a grown man. See the world as it is and do as I say.”
“That will be the end of it, Aunt, or I shall take a room at the Rose and Crown in the village.” Darcy bowed. “I believe I shall go refresh myself.” Without waiting for a reply, he turned and leftthe room, his thoughts already meditating on a pair of fine eyes and the one woman who had—he hoped—begun to care for him despite his failings.
He did not see Anne until supper. Lady Catherine presided at the head of the table, appearing as forbidding as ever as she surveyed those seated around her. Anne sat beside Richard, her gaze fixed on her plate, whispering responses to his quiet questions. Anne’s companion, Mrs. Jenkinson, was placed next to Lady Catherine, with Darcy seated on the companion’s other side. The seating arrangement did not go unnoticed. His aunt had placed him lower in a petty attempt to chastise him.More the fool she, for I prefer this seat to one by her side.
“My parson has guests,” Lady Catherine began. Darcy knew this and feigned indifference. “He has lately married. His wife’s sister and her particular friend are to stay for six weeks. Mrs. Collins’s father will return to Hertfordshire in a few days.”
“Darcy, did you not meet Mr. Collins in Hertfordshire?” Richard’s eyes were filled with mischief. “Ought we not call and wish him joy?” Darcy silently thanked him for the strategic diversion.
Richard turned to Anne. “What think you of the guests?” he asked, drawing attention away from their cousin. “I assume our aunt has had them to dine.”
“Yes,” whispered Anne. “I like Mrs. Collins. Her sister, Miss Lucas, is quiet, but seems like a demure young lady. I did not have the opportunity to speak with Miss Elizabeth. But Mama spoke with Sir William at length. He is a gregarious, friendly man.”
