Saye’s eyes widened to match Georgiana’s. “Show me,” he said, pointing to the door and bustling her in that direction.
“He is right, you know,” Fitzwilliam said before Darcy could follow them. “You are scowling. Need I ask why?”
He sighed. “Probably not.”
Fitzwilliam nodded his understanding. “Have you spoken to her?”
“I tried. She was out. With Hartham.”
“Ah.” When Darcy did not answer, he added, “You could try again. She must be home by now.”
“To what end? She has made her choice.”
“If you were to tell her how you feel?—”
“She knows how I feel.” How could she not? He had proposed to her once already, not to mention that he had kissed her yesterday as though she werealreadyhis wife. “And she still accepted him.Him!” He rubbed the back of his neck in agitation. “I cannot stand to think of how lonely such a marriage will make her.”
“Thentalkto her. Make sure she understands what she is doing. Make it clear that she has an alternative.” Fitzwilliam placed a hand on Darcy’s shoulder. “What have you to lose?”
Her friendship? Her respect? It seemed likely he had lost both already by behaving in a way that had made Hartham seem a preferable choice. He would surely only compound his offences by appearing on her doorstep to condemn the decision he had forced her to make. Still, the desire to see her was a gnawing ache in the very marrow of his bones. Which was why, a few minutes later, he found himself closing the front door behind him and placing his hat on his head as he hastened down the front steps. It was late in the day for a call, but having talked himself into speaking to her, he had not the patience to wait until the next morning. Resentment flooded his stomach when Lady Preston’s door opened a few yards ahead of him, and Hartham sauntered down the front steps with an intolerable smirk on his lips.
“Good evening, Mr Darcy. I almost did not recognise you in dry clothes.” His eyes slid over Darcy’s person. “I have grown quite accustomed to the sight of you in a clinging shirt.”
Darcy halted on the spot, fury licking at his insides. He hoped he was not a vain man, but neither did he harbour any false modesty; he knew the face his parents had given him was considered handsome. And he hadseen enough appraising looks to recognise one when he saw it. Nothing Hartham could have said or done at that moment could have incensed him more.
“Thatis what you would say to me?” he spat, his voice harsh. “When you are on the cusp of marrying the sweetest, loveliest, most compassionate woman on this earth, you would joke about such things?”
Colour crept up Hartham’s neck, but he maintained his jovial air. “I do not know what you are insinuating?—”
“The very same thingyouwere insinuating. Do not pretend ignorance with me, Hartham. Not in this matter.”
“It is no pretence, I assure you, but either way, I hope you will excuse me. I am on my way to see my betrothed.”
Twice in one day? The news twisted the knife in Darcy’s guts, and as Hartham passed him, he said darkly, “Have you told her why you are marrying her?”
Hartham turned back to face him, his amiable,punchablesmile still fixed in place. “That I think she is the most delightful creature I ever met? Yes, of course.”
“That you are using her to get your inheritance. That your aunt has refused to release it unless you are wed.”And that you are about as interested in being married to a woman as I am to Florizel.
Hartham’s eyes widened so that, for a moment, Darcy feared he had spoken this last aloud.
“While I do not deny that my marrying will bring about financial reward, I have not made an arbitrary choice. I would have you know that I am extremely fond of Miss Bennet!”
“Is that so?” Darcy said with a snarl. “Tell me, then, what is her favourite book? Or flower, or colour, oraria? Which side of her face is the small scar that she tries to always hide with her hair? What vegetable does she always pick out of a ragout? Does she prefer a sea view or a bucolic one? What scent does she wear? What city would she most like to visit? What way does she choose to face in a carriage? What animal is she scared of? What does she like todo?What makes her happy?”
Hartham swallowed, clearly trying very hard to still appear complacent but failing. “And you know the answers to all these, I suppose.”
“What do you think?”
Hartham tapped his swagger stick agitatedly against his leg. “Look, Mr Darcy, you seem like a decent fellow, and I have no quarrel with you. But you had your chance with Miss Bennet, and she turned you down. I see that you are not recovered from the injury of her rejection, but?—”
“No, I am not recovered. I doubt I ever will be. But this is not about me, this is abouther!”
“Yes,” Hartham replied impatiently. “And while I may not yet know every small whim and fancy she possesses, I am assuming that a lifetime will be sufficient to find them out. In the meantime, she will be perfectly well provided for. More than comfortable, in fact.”
“That means nothing to Miss Bennet. She has turned down not one buttwoproposals of marriage which would have provided her material comfort. She wanted nothing of those, only a man she could admire and respect, perhaps come to love. I cannot bear to think of the unhappiness she would know, consigning herself to such a fate! Would you even provide her with the family she wishes for?”
Hartham raised one eyebrow. “I am sure I am manenough to provide her with a child or two. Give me some credit.”
