Chapter 7 #2
He paused, studying Darcy with a measuring look.
“I have two reasons for telling you this. The first is simple courtesy—you ought to know where your cousin will be lodged, for he will be with me at least until the new year. His general has granted him an extended leave, and Fitzwilliam has agreed to pass much of it under my roof.”
A faint smile touched the earl’s lips. “My second purpose is to invite you to stay with us, should it please you, and to encourage you to bring your sister. Your cousin’s only hesitation in accepting my invitation was his desire to see his ward.
Once he learnt you were in the neighbourhood, he believed you might allow Miss Darcy to join us.
He seemed certain you would not wish her forced into close company with Miss Bingley, and I myself think Elizabeth would prove a good and steady friend to her. ”
Darcy could not help the small smile that tugged at his mouth.
The thought of escaping Miss Bingley’s persistent hints—and the constant implication of a greater intimacy between them—was exceedingly welcome.
Bingley would not object to his removing to Millbrook Cottage; indeed, Darcy suspected his friend would be relieved, knowing full well how little patience he had for Caroline Bingley’s pretensions.
“I will write to Georgiana at once to extend the invitation and to inform her of our cousin’s return,” Darcy said.
“She will be overjoyed to see Richard again, and I believe she will take great pleasure in meeting one of my father’s closest friends.
I also agree that Miss Elizabeth would be an excellent companion for her. ”
“Very well,” Mr Grant replied, his smile broad and entirely satisfied.
“I confess, I am particularly eager to introduce your cousin to my granddaughter. The pair share a number of interests, and as I know Fitzwilliam to be a good and honourable man, I believe he would make her an excellent husband. She possesses both an estate and a respectable dowry—precisely what your cousin would require in order to resign his commission. He is a man in whom I could place my trust, and I am convinced that he would never marry her solely for her fortune, but only if he truly cared for her. I am persuaded they will suit exceedingly well.”
Darcy stared at him, utterly speechless for a moment.
His breath caught at once, and a peculiar tightness coiled low in his chest—an uncomfortable blend of shock, disbelief, and something dangerously akin to jealousy.
For several moments he could neither think nor speak.
The notion of Colonel Fitzwilliam—his cousin—being matched with his Elizabeth Bennet was so unexpected, and so profoundly unwelcome, that it robbed him of his composure.
When Darcy finally managed to draw a steady breath, his voice still wavered.
“I… I had not realised… that is to say, I would not have presumed…” Heat crept unwanted along his collar as he turned his gaze aside.
If he met the earl’s eyes, he feared the man might see far more than Darcy intended to reveal.
“My cousin is indeed a man of excellent character, but I had no notion you had contemplated such an arrangement. I have often wished he might find the means to resign his commission, yet I had not considered…” His voice thinned, the rest of the thought slipping from him as dread and disbelief tangled too thickly to untangle.
Suddenly, a dull ache bloomed in Darcy’s chest—an ache that seemed to tighten with each unsteady beat of his heart.
Elizabeth—married to another man. Elizabeth as Richard’s wife.
The notion struck him with a violence of feeling he had not anticipated as though some unseen hand had reached inside him and twisted sharply.
He had no claim upon her, no right even to harbour an objection, and yet the thought hollowed him all the same, leaving a cold, echoing space where something warm had settled only days before.
Mr Grant’s calm, steady voice cut through the ringing in his ears and recalled him, abruptly, to the present.
Darcy was not entirely certain how long he had sat there speechless, utterly discomposed.
“I will not force her to marry anyone,” the older man said, his tone firm enough to jolt Darcy from the stupor that had seized him.
He did not think that Mr Grant had been aware of his distraction, but his words did a little to settle his unease.
“I merely wish to make the introduction. Although I believe they would suit, that does not mean they shall marry. I hope she will consider him. I shall encourage the match, but I will never obligate her to anyone without her leave.”
The reassurance barely skimmed the surface of the turmoil roiling within him.
Rationally, Darcy understood the justice of Mr Grant’s words—Elizabeth was free, entirely free, to choose whom she pleased.
She ought to be free. Still, the thought of her choosing Richard—of her turning that bright, earnest smile upon his cousin, the one she had recently bestowed upon Darcy himself—sent a sharp, breath-stealing pressure through his chest.
Darcy drew in another breath, slow and deliberate, as though the simple act might steady the frantic pulse in his throat.
He had come to Millbrook Cottage prepared to discuss matters of business, or even to discuss something related to his guardianship of his sister, or for the elder man to pass along some words of wisdom.
It had never occured to him—nor could have ever imagined—that he would be forced to contemplate Elizabeth Bennet as the wife of another man.
Least of all Richard. Richard, who deserved a peaceful life after years of service, who deserved a woman who might truly care for him. Darcy would not begrudge him that—not in thought, not in word. But the idea of his cousin winning Elizabeth… he could not pretend it would be easy to bear.