“You could rein in your habits of expense if you found a woman worth the effort. A thousand a year could afford you four servants, a carriage, and a pair of horses.”
“Not in Grosvenor Street. A woman who marries into a titled family would rightfully have higher expectations.”
“That depends entirely on the character of the woman and her love for you.” Fitzwilliam gave no reply, but Darcy knew that none was needed. It would be to his cousin’s advantage, as a younger son who would not inherit an estate and title, to marry a wealthy woman. It did not follow, however, that he could not spend less and afford to marry elsewhere. Darcy did not wish to be involved with his cousin’s suit or his withdrawal, but foremost in his mind was the preservation of Jane’s delicate feelings.
“Do not trifle with my wife’s sister.” His tone brooked no opposition. “If you do not anticipate making your honourable intentions known before you leave, then confine your interactions with Jane to those of only the most detached civility.”
Fitzwilliam glared across the billiard table. “You presume too much in telling me how to act in a manner befitting a gentleman.Iam well aware of what qualifies as proper behaviour between a man and a lady who is not his wife.”
Harsher words might have been spoken had not the door burst open. Elizabeth ran breathlessly into the room to his side with a beaming smile.
“Fitzwilliam! Here you are; I have been looking for you. I felt—” Elizabeth tore her eyes off him to see they were not alone. “Oh, forgive me. Darcy, when you are at your leisure, would you meet with me in my sitting room? I would speak with you privately.” Her words implied Elizabeth would await him patiently, but Darcy curiously observed that she was nearly bouncing with enthusiastic energy.
His cousin placed his cue on the table. “Pardon me, Mrs Darcy, but I was about to go to the stables. I shall leave your husband to your immensely preferable company.”
“Do not leave on my account. And you may call me Lizzy.”
“I thank you, but Darcy takes such pride in hearing you addressed as Mrs Darcy that, so long as he is near, I shall indulge the besotted man and call you as such.”
* * *
It had beensome time since Pemberley was full of company, and Darcy was not used to the bustle of activity. In the past, he did not talk freely enough to be considered agreeable, but he now was often asked precisely what his new wife had done to him. He may have become more conversant, more amiable, but Darcy was still eager to have quiet and exemption from the thought and contrivance that any sort of company gives.
While he waited for his wife to make her appearance before the evening began, he sought his cousin for some conversation. Fitzwilliam was reading in the library, dressed for the ball and waiting for the guests to arrive.
“There you are. I thought you would skulk outside your wife’s dressing room, waiting to catch an early glimpse of her in her evening finery.”
Darcy made no reply; hehadbeen hovering nearby, and she had summarily sent him away. “I do not know what you mean.”
Fitzwilliam’s eyes gleamed as he gave him a knowing smile. “I can well imagine the words Mrs Darcy used to send you on your way.” In a more serious tone he said, “Georgiana will be one-and-twenty before we are ready for it. She will have no need for one guardian, to say nothing of two. Did you ever consider why your father placed her in the care of us both?”
He shrugged, having never considered the reason. “He was merely cautious and named two custodians.”
“That explains why there are two guardians, but not why I was selected. My brother, who will someday be an earl, would be a more eligible guardian.”
“The viscount is an ineffectual fop.”
Fitzwilliam laughed heartily. “That he is, and I would call him worse.”
Their amusement faded, and Fitzwilliam now spoke in earnest. “I think I was chosen so I could be of aid to you rather than Georgiana, as there could have been no doubt in your father’s mind that you would take proper care of your sister. I always thought that my uncle Darcy wanted you to have someone nearby to draw you out, to confide in, someone to remind you to seek your own happiness in life. You have been more like a brother to me than my own, and by having us both be guardian to your sister, it would force us always to remain in some contact. Not that such contrivance was ever necessary, and for that, I am thankful.”
To hear such strength of emotion from his cousin, and the allusion to his late father’s pride in his capabilities, was almost too much to bear. Darcy was relieved when Fitzwilliam spoke again, sparing him the necessity of assigning the proper words to his swirling emotions.
“And now that you are happily wed to Mrs Darcy, I can say, without any bitter reproach or sorrowful regret, that my position has been supplanted. I think your father would be pleased with your choice of a wife; you are a different man.”
“I am not so changed, am I? In essentials, I believe I am the same as I ever was.”
“There is a laugh in your eyes and a warmth that was never there before. Now I can content myself with being your shooting partner and drinking my fill of your brandy and leave the difficult work to your wife. Let us go see where the ladies are, shall we?” Fitzwilliam led Darcy toward the stairs. “It would be mortifying to the feelings of the ladies could they be made to understand how little the hearts of us men are affected by what is costly or new in their attire, do you not agree?”
“I do. I am little affected by the texture of a muslin gown. Neatness and fashion are enough for me.”
Darcy had just uttered these words when his wife appeared at the top of the staircase and began her descent. She smiled fondly at him, a vision of loveliness. Though he would have been hard-pressed to describe the finer details of the gown, he nonetheless stood at the bottom of the stairs, breathless and entranced.
“Little affected, indeed.” His cousin lifted his eyes as he made his excuses to await Georgiana and Miss Bennet in the drawing room.
“Fitzwilliam, have you nothing to say to me? Do you dislike my gown?” she said in that arch and sweet manner that he so loved.
Darcy ultimately found his voice and could not disguise his desire as he quietly answered her. “I think it displays perhaps rather too much of the bosom, back, and shoulders. I want to take you to bed and tell all of our company to go home.”
