“You seem content this evening,” he murmured as they walked, pitching his voice low enough that only she could hear.
“I am content. These past days have been...” She paused, searching for words adequate to convey whatever she was feeling. “Unexpected. In the best possible way.”
At the table, they were seated adjacent to each other. It allowed for quiet exchanges beneath the general conversation and small intimacies that had begun to characterize their interactions.
Their hands met beneath the tablecloth during the fish course, fingers intertwining briefly before duty required attending to the meal. But the contact lingered in his awareness, warmth spreading from that simple touch in ways that made concentrating difficult.
“I have an announcement,” Richard declared when the second course had been cleared. He arose, drawing all attention to where he stood beside Kitty’s chair. “Miss Catherine Bennet has done me the very great honour of agreeing to enter formal courtship with me. With her father’s permission, naturally, which I sought this afternoon and which he graciously granted.”
Applause erupted around the table. Mrs Bennet’s shriek of delight nearly drowned out Lady Matlock’s more measured congratulations. Kitty blushed prettily as Richard beamed with obvious satisfaction.
Lady Matlock raised her glass in toast. “This is wonderful news! Kitty, dear, I could not be more pleased. You shall make an excellent addition to our family and a most delightful shopping companion. We must visit the modiste in Town together once the Season begins. I have recommendations I shall share with you.”
Kitty’s voice held, just. “You are too kind, my lady. I am honoured by your approval.”
“Approval?” Mrs Bennet could contain herself no longer. “Of course Lady Matlock approves! And why should she not? My daughters are perfectly suitable matches for any gentleman, regardless of consequence. Why, I knew from the moment Elizabeth married Mr Darcy that it would throw my other girls in the way of rich men! Such connections inevitably lead to further advantageous alliances.”
The specific phrasing echoed in Darcy’s mind with uncomfortable clarity.Throw my other girls in the way of rich men.Not introduce them to appropriate society or naturally allow opportunities for suitable matches, but deliberately position them to capture wealthy husbands, as if such captures were the primary objective.
His old unease about fortune hunting stirred, that familiar wariness that had dogged him through years of navigating society as a wealthy unmarried man. The suspicion that every unmarried woman viewed him primarily as a prize to bewon, that every introduction concealed mercenary calculation beneath it.
But no. He rejected that interpretation even as it formed. This was merely Mrs Bennet being Mrs Bennet, tactless but essentially harmless in her enthusiasms. There was nothing sinister in wanting her daughters secure and comfortable, however inelegantly expressed. Every mother with unmarried daughters harboured similar hopes, even if most possessed sufficient social awareness to avoid voicing them quite so baldly.
“Mama,” Jane said in a gentle voice. “I think you mean that we are happy Kitty has found love. That is what matters most, not wealth or connection, but true affection between two people who suit each other.”
“Well, naturally love matters,” Mrs Bennet conceded, her tone suggesting love was perhaps secondary to more practical considerations. “But one cannot deny the material advantages of such matches. Rich men, after all, make for far more comfortable marriages than poor ones.”
The remainder of dinner passed in celebration of Richard’s announcement, Mrs Bennet’s earlier commentary gradually forgotten beneath discussion of courtship customs and Lady Matlock’s generous offers to assist Kitty in preparing for her eventual entry into higher society.
“I must beg your pardon,” Elizabeth said to him as a few people gathered afterwards for tea and cards. “I promised Jane and Mary time together before they depart tomorrow. A proper farewell without all the chaos that will inevitably accompany the actual departure. Would you mind if I joined them upstairs?”
“Of course not. Family is important, particularly when you will be separated from them for some time. However, I admit I shall miss your company even for that brief period.”
“I shall wait up for you,” she promised. “We can speak properly then, without all these interruptions.”
He watched her depart with her sisters, observing the affectionate way they linked arms together in comfortable familiarity.
Then he accepted brandy from Lord Matlock and settled near the fire with Arthur and Richard, who was still basking in the glow of his successful courtship announcement. The conversation turned to politics and comfortable topics that required minimal attention.
“Fitzwilliam.”
Lady Catherine stood in the doorway, her expression severe even by her usual exacting standards.
Every instinct urged refusal. But years of ingrained courtesy compelled him to rise, to excuse himself from his cousins and follow his aunt into the small study off the main corridor.
She closed the door, then turned to face him with an expression that managed to combine triumph and disapproval.
“I have proof,” she announced without preamble. “Proof that your wife has been deceiving you from the beginning. And she has been secretly involved with those Irish fortune hunters who attempted to trap you.”
The pleasant anticipation that had been occupying his thoughts dissipated at once, replaced by irritation. “You will cease this nonsense immediately. I have tolerated your disapproval of my marriage out of respect for familial connection and your relationship to my late mother, but I will not permit you to continue to malign my wife with baseless accusations!”
Lady Catherine’s eyebrows rose. “Baseless? I think not. And before you dismiss my concerns as mere prejudice, perhaps you ought to examine this.”
She withdrew a folded letter from her reticule and extended it towards him.
He made no move to accept it, revulsion at the entire situation making him reluctant to touch whatever his aunt offered. “Where did you acquire correspondence presumably not addressed to you?”
“I assigned a maid to monitor your wife’s letters. Do not look at me in that scandalized fashion. It was necessary precaution given the suspicious nature of your rushed matrimony.” She thrust the letter closer. “The sender’s name may interest you. Annabelle Sempill. I believe she was among those who cornered you at the garden party.”
