Chapter 18 #2
“Darcy!” There were times when Richard did not like his cousin very much at all.
“We have spoken of this. I have no intention at all of entering into that institution. Women’s affections are fickle and matters of the heart no longer hold any attractions to me.
I prefer a good sensible friendship to a grand amour.
Such is much less dangerous.” His brows lowered over his brown eyes.
“Your mother has it right in one area, Richard. You cannot always be a soldier. You will need an income on which to live when you hang up your sword.”
“Darcy…” he growled the name. “But why do you ask? Surely not to rehash this old conversation.”
His cousin shrugged. “I have been giving some thoughts to the idea in general. I, too, must marry at some point. Pemberley needs a mistress, and I must have an heir to continue the family.” He fished the ball from the pocket and handed it to Richard, who let the smooth weight of it linger in his hand.
“I have never heard such talk from you before! What has occasioned this? Is there a particular lady you have in mind?”
Darcy squirmed for a moment under Richard’s gaze before taking a step back to survey the table.
Despite all appearances, it must be Miss Bennet after all whom Darcy was considering.
It could only be that she was not the one Darcy had fancied last autumn, for that lady had been deemed unsuitable, whereas Miss Bennet was clearly a worthy option.
This must be a new tendresse, developed whilst they had been here in Kent.
Whenever had Darcy been so difficult to understand?
Darcy said nothing, but grabbed the ball from Richard’s grasp and replaced it upon the table, where he took another shot. The white cue ball went wide, missing the red object ball entirely.
“I have merely been thinking…” he reiterated. “I am still young, but I will not always be…” He replaced his cue ball to where it had been before his errant attempt and aimed at it again. “Aunt Catherine…”
“You are not giving serious thought to marrying Anne, are you?”
Darcy’s head jerked up. “Anne? Whatever makes you think I would marry Anne. She would be a much better choice for you. She has both a fortune and an estate in her own name. You could do a lot worse.”
“You have been at our aunt’s brandy and must be in your cups.
If ever I were to marry, it would not be to Anne.
Although…” he sighed. “You do have a point. I have given the notion some vague thought. We could wed and live entirely separate lives, albeit in great comfort. The thought has some mild appeal.”
“You do like Anne,” Darcy reapplied himself to his cue ball. “You rub on together well enough.”
“Well, banish that thought. If I were to marry someone with whom I merely ‘rub on together well,’ it would most likely not be Anne.”
Darcy remained silent.
“But you have not answered my question,” Richard probed. “What has this notion going through your mind. It is not Miss Bennet, is it?”
Darcy’s visage grew stormy.
“You raised the subject!” Richard protested.
“What are your intentions towards the lady?” Darcy seemed almost angry. So that was what was eating him.
“Be easy, cousin. My intentions towards Miss Bennet remain in the realm of friendship. As you only now said, if—and I emphasise if—I marry, it must be for money. And Miss Bennet, as delightful as she is, has none. You, on the other hand, require none, being wealthy enough to marry a village of impecunious damsels.”
This earned another glare. Richard chuckled. He would do what he could, upon their next private encounter, to forward his cousin’s case with the charming Miss Bennet!
That opportunity came the very next day.
Darcy was sequestered away with Mr Lighton for their final meeting, and Richard set about on his last walk through the park, in search of anything amiss which had not previously caught his attention.
He had gone through the area and was walking back to Rosings through the grove when there, he spied Miss Bennet herself, a letter dandling from her fingers.
What serendipity! He approached her with a cheerful greeting, and looking up to see him, she put away her missive.
“A delight to see you here, Miss Bennet. Letters from home? How much longer do you stay in Kent? It is a perfect day, is it not? Neither too hot nor too cold, and with a sunny sky seldom seen in this part of England.”
She returned his greeting, and they talked for some moments of nothing of any great import. Eventually he turned the topic to that of his cousin, although Miss Bennet seemed to hold no great opinion of him.
“I do not know anybody who seems more to enjoy the power of doing what he likes than Mr Darcy!” She smiled at her gibe, but Richard could see the deep sentiment behind it.
Better to assure her that he saw Darcy with clear eyes, so that his eventual praise of his cousin might be well received. “He likes to have his own way very well,” he joked in return. “But so we all do, do we not?”
They talked then of Darcy’s wealth and Richard’s lack thereof—although he did have to admit that an earl’s son would never really know self-denial or dependence. Miss Bennet was not one to be shy in offering her opinions!
“In matters of great weight,” Richard admitted, “I may suffer from the want of money. Younger sons cannot marry where they like. Our habits of expense make us too dependent, and there are not many in my rank of life who can afford to marry without some attention to money.”
He examined Miss Bennet’s face for her response.
He hoped she did not take this as meant for her, although he could imagine worse fates than being married to her.
But she laughed and offered, “And pray, what is the usual price for an earl’s younger son?
Unless the older brother is very sickly, I suppose you would not ask above fifty thousand pounds! ”
He returned her laughter, although that was close to the amount that Miss Eastway would offer. She was too perceptive, by far!
As they talked, the topic turned to that of Georgiana. What had she heard of his cousin, he wondered? Had Darcy spoken of her during their acquaintance in Hertfordshire? He must have done so, for Miss Bennet seemed to know something of the girl.
He asked, and she replied, “She is a very great favourite with some ladies of my acquaintance—Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley. I think I have heard you say that you know them.”
Ah, the egregious Bingley sisters! He would have to solicit her true opinion later. “I know them a little,” he supplied. “Their brother is a pleasant, gentlemanlike man—he is a great friend of Darcy’s.”
A strange look came over Miss Bennet’s face. “Oh! Yes.” Her voice was dry. “Mr Darcy is uncommonly kind to Mr Bingley, and takes a prodigious deal of care of him.”
This was perfect! What an opportunity to puff up his cousin in Miss Bennet’s eyes. If he painted Darcy as a great friend, she might amend her opinion of him.
“Yes, I really believe Darcy does take care of him in those points where he most wants care. From something he told me on the journey hither, I have reason to think Bingley very much indebted to him.”
She frowned. “What is it you mean?”
“It is a circumstance which Darcy, of course, would not wish to be generally known, because if it were to get around to the lady’s family,” he paused for a moment, reassuring himself that Miss Bennet was not Darcy’s infatuation of the autumn, “it would be a most unpleasant thing.”
She looked quizzically at him, and he continued in a quiet voice, lest they be overheard. “What he told me was merely this: that he congratulated himself on having lately saved a friend from the inconveniences of a most imprudent marriage, but without mentioning names or any other particulars.”
Miss Bennet stopped for a moment, before resuming her steps. She stared straight ahead and did not speak for a moment. When she did reply, her manner was very much changed.
“Did Mr Darcy give you his reasons for this interference?” There was little of the laughing and sparkling young lady with whom he had begun this conversation, and he hoped he was not stepping wrong by telling her of this.
“I understood,” he spoke slowly, “that there were some very strong objections against the lady.”
She was silent once more, and a cloud seemed to have settled on her. Had he done wrong in relating this? He had intended to help Darcy’s cause. Somehow, however, it seemed to be going all wrong.
“Is anything amiss, Miss Bennet? You are very quiet suddenly.” A weight appeared somewhere in his belly.
Eventually she said, “I am thinking of what you have been telling me. Your cousin’s conduct does not suit my feelings.
Why was he to be the judge? I do not see what right Mr Darcy had to decide on the propriety of his friend’s inclination, or why he was to determine and direct in what manner his friend was to be happy.
” She let out a dissatisfied huff but then straightened her shoulders.
“But, as we know none of the particulars, it is not fair to condemn him. It is not to be supposed that there was much affection in the case.”
Perhaps there was still some way to correct matters.
Miss Bennet needed to see Darcy’s great efforts on behalf of a friend, rather than lamenting over his officiousness.
Affecting a hearty guffaw, Richard quipped, “That is not an unnatural surmise, but it is lessening the honour of my cousin’s triumph very sadly! ”
Miss Bennet did not laugh, however, and Richard felt that he had very much made a pig’s breakfast of his attempt.
The young woman grew exceedingly quiet, and upon reaching the parsonage, begged his leave, for she was feeling the onset of a bad headache.
She disappeared into the house, leaving Richard feeling very much ill at ease and unhappy with what he had done, and uncertain as to how it had all gone so wrong.