Chapter 10
TEN
On Monday morning, Darcy was with his cousins in a small sitting room at his town house.
Bramwell and Fitzwilliam had arrived a short time earlier, both in a good mood and evidently ready for a chat.
He had no doubt of the subject: Elizabeth.
What else was there to talk about at the moment that had so much import?
They were fortunate to have her as their cousin, and she was fortunate to have discovered her father had come from such a prominent family—and that her parents had been married above a year before her birth.
While Thomas Sterling had been disowned, he was still a Sterling, and Lord and Lady Romsley had accepted her, regardless of her parents’ reckless behaviour.
“You cannot doubt why we are here,” Fitzwilliam said. He sat in a wing chair across from the sofa on which Darcy and Bramwell were placed. “You actually met Elizabeth this autumn?”
Darcy nodded, but before he could speak, Bramwell did.
“Tell us about her, the people with whom she lived, et cetera. What do you know of the man she is staying with in the city? Our information is all from Elizabeth and the little my father learnt of him. Another opinion would be valuable.”
“I can tell you nothing of him, only his sisters, Mrs Bennet and Mrs Philips, whose husband is an attorney in Meryton,” Darcy said.
Silently, he was debating what he should say of Elizabeth.
Ever since he had seen her in the Romsleys’ drawing room, he had known his cousins would question him thus.
Although he had spent countless hours reflecting on the situation, he still felt encased in shock knowing she was here, so nearby, and, despite recently struggling to accept they would never meet again, he would see her often.
Fitzwilliam said, “My mother remains concerned about who the Gardiners are. The niece of a countess residing near Cheapside?” He scoffed and shook his head.
Bramwell shrugged. “I understand why she is hesitating to remove to Grosvenor Square.”
“Do you?” Darcy interjected.
The conversation was briefly interrupted by the arrival of servants bearing coffee and a tray of bread, cheeses, pies, and fruit. Fitzwilliam immediately took a generous amount of food, and Darcy poured coffee for himself and his cousins.
Once they were alone again, Bramwell said, “She does not know us, and as warmly as my mother has embraced her, we are still strangers. On the contrary, she has known these Gardiners most of her life.”
“My father intends to learn more about the Gardiners and the Bennets,” Fitzwilliam added in between mouthfuls of food.
“That is wise,” Darcy said. Haltingly, he added, “I know no evil of the Bennets, apart from Mrs Bennet and her younger daughters having appalling manners.”
“But Elizabeth does not,” Bramwell said. “Frankly, I do not care about her mother’s people. I am more concerned about her. I liked her at once.”
“As did I,” Fitzwilliam agreed. Then he coughed, apparently having swallowed a bit of insufficiently chewed food so that he could speak.
His brother rolled his eyes and suggested, “Let me talk while you continue to eat every speck on the tray.” To Darcy, he said, “Tell us about her. You spent weeks in her company.”
“I-I found her to be what you have no doubt seen yourselves,” he said, cursing himself for stumbling over his words.
Fitzwilliam stared at him, holding a piece of pear midway between the plate and his mouth.
Bramwell cocked an eyebrow and encouraged Darcy to go on. “What does she like to do? What are her opinions? You must have more to say.”
Darcy discovered a sudden need to adjust his cuffs; the action allowed him to avert his gaze. “Not really. She and I spent little time together.”
“You stayed in the same house for days when her cousin was ill,” Fitzwilliam said.
He made a vague gesture that was partly apologetic, as though he had somehow failed because he had not known he should befriend Elizabeth.
But how could he have foreseen a moment such as this?
His cousins pressed him further, and he spoke a little about her preferences for walking and reading and mentioned her lovely singing voice.
“And she is pleasant and well-liked by the people of Meryton. The care she gave Miss Bennet is but one example. Lively. She laughs easily and is a happy person, I believe. Amiable. Quick-witted.” Partway through his description, he almost forgot his cousins were with him, so lost had he become in picturing Elizabeth during their encounters in Hertfordshire.
So often, his eye had been drawn to her, and he had wished he was the person standing with her, engaged in an easy conversation, bathing in the floral scent she favoured, close enough to observe her lovely features and watch her enchanting eyes dance.
Bramwell gave a loud snort of laughter and exclaimed, “Good god, you are infatuated with her! I had wondered after how you were looking at her the other day.”
“What?” Darcy cried, sudden alarm making him light-headed. Had he been incautious and shown his regard?
“Do not fret, Darcy,” the viscount said. “My parents did not notice, but you might as well admit you have been ensnared by her.”
“Darcy has a tendre for our new cousin?” Fitzwilliam asked his brother.
Bramwell nodded. “I am never wrong about these things.”
“True,” Fitzwilliam agreed and turned to Darcy, smiling and appearing eager to hear more, though Darcy had no intention of ever speaking again.
“Admit it,” Bramwell urged. “We are not going anywhere until you do, which you will find far more annoying than confiding in your dearest cousins and friends. Who else has a right to know your innermost thoughts?” He grinned mischievously, and Darcy was tempted to throw a cushion at him.
After a brief pause, he blurted, “Very well. Yes, I admit, I found her…interesting. But I did not consider her as-as—”
“If you say suitable, I am going to have such a laugh at you. Do you know what? I shall anyway,” Fitzwilliam said. He proceeded to guffaw as though he had been told the greatest joke in history.
As irritating as Fitzwilliam’s reaction was, Darcy understood why some might find the situation amusing. He had yet to get past how extraordinarily, overwhelmingly coincidental it was.
Around his laughter, Fitzwilliam said, “To think that when you finally encountered a lady who interested you, you fought against your attraction because her situation in life was not good enough, and it turned out she was a Sterling and eminently suitable!”
“How was I to know that?” Darcy demanded. “Even now, we do not know what your uncle will decide to do. Her father was disowned because he chose to elope and marry without his parents’ approval. We all know that some people would extend the shame to the children of such a union.”
Bramwell punched his arm. “Do you hear how stupid you sound? You saw for yourself that my father has welcomed her, and nothing will stop my brother and I from claiming her as a cousin.”
Fitzwilliam nodded vigorously.
“My mother is enchanted with her,” Bramwell said. “My uncle Sterling will not reject her. I am certain of it, especially once he sees that my father and mother have embraced her.”
Darcy, his eyes fixed on the mahogany table in front of him, conceded that his cousin was right with a curt dip of the chin.
Bramwell continued. “If you are thinking of what fortune she will bring to the marriage, it happens that she has her father’s legacy.
It was ten thousand when the breach occurred, and according to the letter her mother wrote, the larger part of it remained untouched.
I do not know how much it amounts to now.
I cannot say I have a good opinion of Mr Bennet.
He did not even recall that rather important detail regarding her circumstances, from what Elizabeth says.
Can you imagine forgetting your ward came with a fortune? ”
“Once my mother starts parading her about town, I do not doubt she will attract a great deal of attention, not only because of her connexion to my family and her dowry, but also because she is pretty and friendly,” Fitzwilliam said.
Hot anger at the thought of other men pursuing Elizabeth building in his stomach, Darcy said, “The money has never mattered to me.” He might have listed it as one reason she was an imprudent choice, but it meant little compared to other factors.
“It was the Bennets. Their behaviour, their situation in life being so much lower than mine. Though,” he went on, his tone speculative, “knowing Mrs Bennet’s generosity in treating Elizabeth as a daughter all these years makes me think better of her. ”
“When did you find out she was not?” Bramwell asked. “This is exactly the sort of thing we wanted you to tell us, you know?”
Darcy sighed. Part of him hated to remember his feelings and thoughts when he was in Hertfordshire, but he understood his cousins’ desire to know more about Elizabeth.
“When Miss Bennet was ill at Netherfield. Before then, I heard nothing of her being adopted and had not suspected it at all. No one treated her any differently than the other Miss Bennets.” He glanced between his cousins.
“You must see that anyone would have hesitated. She knew nothing of her father, and who was to say her parents were even married?”
“But now, the situation has altered,” Fitzwilliam said. “If you choose to pursue her, we”—he waved a finger between his brother and himself—“shall decide if you are good enough for her.”
Darcy glared at him. “Considering whom Bramwell is pursuing—”
Abruptly, Bramwell stood and interjected, “So, are you coming with us?”
“What?” Darcy said, his brow furrowed.
“To meet Mr Gardiner, of course,” the viscount said. “You know you want to just as much as we do.”