Preference & Neglect

Chapter Seven #2

“When called upon to do so, I should think it rude to remain silent.” Miss Denham spoke without any inflection of emotion, nor even the barest trace of taking pleasure in her insolence. Darcy was not sure whether this would soften the challenge of her words or intensify the defiance his aunt perceived.

Apparently, Lady Catherine could not decide, either. She squinted imperiously, her chin held high as she surveyed Miss Denham and privately selected the most convenient conclusion to draw from the plain-speaking woman. “Well, Miss Denham, you come by your confidence quite naturally, I think – you speak as frankly as your aunt, and in Kent I am celebrated for my own candor. With age one develops the delicacy required to be so forthright without offending one’s elders or betters. My nephew Richard, brother to the Earl of Matlock, would do well to follow your lead in learning such subtlety. And I must say, your instincts are correct in adjusting one’s occupations to please those worthy of being pleased….”

Anne interjected before her mother could finish speaking. “But I suppose that determination also comes with age? Pray, what age, Mother? Is five-and-twenty old enough to decide for oneself if it is permissible to take an interest in the pursuits of a person she admires? At what age does a lady attain the right to independent thought?”

Lady Catherine gave her daughter a thunderous look of reproach. “Your cheeks are flushed, Anne; you are not well this evening. You have grown over-heated in such a crush of people, and surely the rich food is making your malady worse. You will return to our suite, and I will have some warm broth sent up.”

A fraught silence hung over the table as everybody waited for Anne’s reply. She had indeed turned red from mortification, but she stiffened her posture and stared at her mother with unrepentant loathing as she finally spoke. “You are mistaken, Mother; I am surely no warmer than anybody else on such a balmy summer evening. It is merely the climate – perhaps in this instance, the young adjust more quickly than the elderly. Are you overheated? Perhaps you ought to return to our suite and eat something less flavorful.”

Lady Catherine only gaped at Anne in horror, the presence of so many witnesses forcing her to abstain from striking her daughter.

Darcy was seething with barely controlled fury. He had known for many years before his betrothal that Lady Catherine was not the same kind of mother to Anne as Lady Anne Darcy had been to him. His every attempt to speak to her about her treatment of her daughter had been dismissed with denials and empty promises to take his concerns under advisement. He ought to have done more for Anne; as angry as he was with his aunt for this public display of malevolence and the mortification she had caused his beloved Anne, he was just as angry with himself for having failed to put an end to this mistreatment years ago.

He laid a hand atop Anne’s, and to his surprise, she curled her fingers around his and squeezed hard – not with the intent to inflict pain, but as one drowning might cling to anything that would float. His heart swelled with pride at how she had finally stood up for herself. Never had he heard her so much as raise an objection to her mother’s directives; she never even complained of the harridan in their letters. But the suffering that Lady Catherine had caused Anne was plainly written on her countenance. It tore at his heart and confused his mind – why had she not allowed him to rescue her from such torment as she endured at Rosings?

And then Anne withdrew her hand and stood abruptly. “On second thought, Mother, perhaps I am not at all myself. I shall find Penelope and return to our suite. I hope you enjoy your supper for a good long while. Darcy, Miss Denham, good evening.” She bobbed into a curtsey and then strode away with a smile.

Lady Catherine opened and closed her mouth several times, looking rather like the fish on her plate. Beside her, Sir Beaufort Bollingbroke, who might have been twice her age, lifted his hand and began to grumble, ramping up to voice some stuffy and gouache complaint about young people these days. Darcy and Richard shared a look of tremendous relief when Miss Denham was the first to speak.

“I did not care for the fish at all.” She paused, looking around the table as if unsure she could truly quell the tension.

Richard gave her a nod of encouragement and agreed that it was perhaps a tad too salty. “There is a buffet at the back of the room with salad, bread, and various cheeses…. so…. I shall go exchange my fish for something lighter. Miss Denham, would you like to take a walk to the other end of the room with me to sample the other savories?”

Richard rose and offered Miss Denham his arm, babbling nonsense as he led her away. “I did not like the fish, either. Now, this selection of cheeses, on the other hand…. And I am a decent fisherman, which is unfortunate – if one could fish for cheeses, well, I should have amassed an outrageous fortune, and you would be violently in love with my tremendous talent….”

Before Darcy could even begin to fathom how he might placate his aunt after an ordeal such as he had never seen before, she began to lament her ill usage to Sir Beaufort Bollingbroke and anybody else within a distance to hear her; happily, Lady Lambert and her sister had managed to make a discreet escape from the table.

“That obstinate, headstrong girl! I am heartily ashamed of her! Where is the gratitude due to me for everything I have done for her? I made an excellent dynastic match for her – it is what all the family expects and wishes for – they are descended from the same noble line, with a splendid fortune on both sides. And she would throw it all away with her insolence, her abject selfishness! It is not to be borne! I am not in the habit of brooking disappointment, and neither should you be, my nephew!”

How the old baronet had managed to fall asleep in the face of such a tantrum was beyond Darcy’s comprehension. And this left only himself at the table with his aunt, the unhappy recipient of a lengthy diatribe. The sum of it was that she did not care how enamored her daughter was of Sir Sidney Parker, for she refused to allow Anne to throw away the engagement that had been years in the making – years Lady Catherine had spent badgering Darcy about the matter before managing to blackmail him at last. Her grasp on Anne was slipping, evidently, but she still held considerable power over her nephew.

“Is your marriage to be prevented by an upstart dandy of inferior birth, of no importance in the world beyond this ridiculous little village? Are the shades of Rosings to be thus polluted? Honor, decorum, and prudence forbid it! They would be censured, slighted, and despised by everybody connected with her family. Their alliance would be a disgrace; their names would never be mentioned by any of us.”

“Heavy misfortunes indeed,” Darcy murmured. He was on the point of mentioning that Sir Sidney was already a friend of Rupert’s when he had to stop and remind himself that the ranting harridan was in fact his only ally in regaining Anne’s affections. He sighed.

“I do not think Sir Sidney cares for such things, Aunt. I might as well inform you that I do not, either. You have widely mistaken my character if you believe I have come here out of duty and honor – I have come out of love for Anne. My regard for her future happiness compels me to object to Sir Sidney – not because of his pedigree, or fortune, or situation in life, and not even because of my own prior claim. I doubt his character, his morals, and his capacity to value the woman I have come to cherish. I will do everything within my power to protect her from anybody unworthy of her affection.”

Darcy stood, gave a curt bow, and strode away from the table. He was briefly overwhelmed by the scene he had made, feeling as if every pair of eyes in the room was fixed upon him. But movement and merriment surrounded him, in fact. He breathed a sigh of relief as the other guests mingled around him, all of them intent on selecting a new table for the third course.

Darcy began to look around the room for his sister, and found her speaking to a singularly handsome young man with a peculiar, nervous air about him. Georgiana looked loath to part from his company, while her companion looked somewhat baffled that she was speaking to him at all. Beside them, Miss Bennet was laughing and bobbing her head in cheerful agreement at a jest Darcy felt himself envious not to be a part of.

Georgiana called out to Darcy as he approached his sister and her companions. “William! Oh, do sit with us for dessert; we have been so jolly together.”

Miss Bennet nodded her greeting with a bright smile. “Your sister is a charming creature, Mr. Darcy.” She sipped at her wine, her grey eyes shining with joy, and Darcy could see that she spoke entirely without guile. Georgiana mimicked Miss Bennet’s gesture before settling aside an empty champagne flute and crinkling her face in merry laughter.

“I fear the ladies are too delighted with one another to introduce me – Julius Marsh, at your service – Mr. Darcy, I presume?” The younger man gave an awkward sort of bow.

“Oh dear,” Miss Bennet cried. “I have been so excessively diverted that I have entirely forgotten my duties as a hostess. Mr. Darcy, Mr. Marsh has been at the Tremont for about a month now, tending to his ailing mother and making studies of the local wildlife. And Mr. Marsh, you may find a kindred spirit in Mr. Darcy – you shall not be the only wallflower at the next assembly.”

Before Darcy could reply, Georgiana let out a gasp as she looked between him and Mr. Marsh, and then bubbled with laughter. “Oh, no, Lizzy – we cannot allow either of them to get away with such delinquency! To make my brother stand up with us, we need only compliment Sir Sidney’s superior dancing – and you would surely oblige us, would you not, Mr. Marsh? You have been a most amusing companion this evening.”

Miss Bennet cast a nervous glance at Mr. Darcy, who had stiffened his posture at Georgiana’s barb. It stung, but he could not deny the truth of her words; Sir Sidney brought out a jealous streak in him that Darcy had not known he possessed, and he was certainly not proud of it. Georgiana belatedly realized she had given offense and furrowed her brows in a glance of contrition.

“Mr. Marsh has indeed been edifying us with information as well as amusement.” Miss Bennet diplomatically gestured for them all to be seated as a few other guests, including Richard, joined their table.

Georgiana sat down beside Mr. Marsh; Miss Bennet, whom Georgiana was already addressing with a charming endearment, hesitated. She looked as if uncertain where to sit, and seemed to be deferring to Darcy, who would have sat beside his sister had Georgiana not tugged at her new friend’s arm, obliging Miss Bennet to sit beside her. Darcy sat on Miss Bennet’s other side, ignoring his cousin’s obvious intention to scrutinize them all from across the table.

Miss Bennet turned to him, her eyes sparkling as she tilted her head ever so slightly, as if about to impart some great secret. “Mr. Marsh’s penchant for the natural world has inspired your sister and I to contrive a little game, you see – a talent, if you will permit me to flatter myself….”

The tone of playful challenge in her voice somehow rendered her countenance quite pretty. He may have found fault with her when first they met, for which Darcy knew he ought to find an appropriate opportunity to apologize, but the unabashed glee on her face was impossible not to admire. There were traces of such loveliness on Anne’s countenance at times – he had seen her several times this evening bestow such looks upon Sir Sidney and even her faithful companion Miss Lovelace, but never himself.

Miss Bennet was radiant for everyone, cognizant of everyone’s amusement and ease around her; he felt himself an absolute idiot, mistaking her for Anne earlier that morning.Darcy nodded stupidly at her, waiting for her to elaborate; Miss Bennet arched an eyebrow at him, as if to signify that where he had once insulted her, she had only praise for herself.

“Georgiana and I have discovered we each possess a natural gift for determining what animal a person most resembles. It is an art form, and a very serious one, you see. One must consider not only the obvious factor – appearance – but mannerisms and morals alike. There is a decided stylistic je ne sais quoi involved which Mr. Marsh assures us both we have utterly mastered – we would be happy to demonstrate for you, sir.”

After the awkwardness of Anne’s company and his aunt’s belligerence, this raillery was utterly beguiling, and Darcy shocked even himself with a burst of startled laughter. “Ah, yes, do enlighten me.”

Georgiana clasped onto Miss Bennet’s arm and chortled, bumping her shoulder against her new friend’s with a look of camaraderie. “Well, Lizzy says I am a starfish, for I am perfectly content on the beach, and I am small and cheerful. Also, starfish signify intuition and regeneration, which I quite like.”

Miss Bennet made a droll face. “And I am apparently an orca.”

“Indeed you are,” Mr. Marsh said with a wry smile. “They are clever and sociable animals with strong, protective family bonds – really fascinating creatures, actually.”

“And what about me?” Across the table, Richard gave them a little wave before taking a sip of his wine.

Georgiana did not hesitate. “Easy – you are an otter. They are playful and devious, yet quite helpful and rather sweet. And of course, their darling whiskers.” She made a silly gesture meant to mimic the moustache Richard had sported since returning from the continent that spring, the subject of tremendous mockery amongst their family.

Richard stroked his moustache proudly and nodded his approval, and Georgiana raised her glass at him before taking another sip of wine. “We have also reached a consensus that Anne is a black swan, and Lady Catherine is a pufferfish. May I see your book again, Mr. Marsh? I must show William the illustrations. It says here that pufferfish are to be avoided due to being full of poison – and they can inflate themselves, or puff themselves up to double their own size.”

While Richard began to cough and choke on his wine, Darcy only grimaced at his sister’s impertinence. He understood the point she meant to make, but he could not encourage her to speak so openly of what ought to remain a private family discussion. Moreover, he began to suspect she had over-imbibed.

A pair of footmen began to distribute desserts to their table, and Darcy was obliged to conceal his displeasure. Beside him, Miss Bennet let out a coo of excitement. “Lemon ices! My favorite!”

Darcy observed Miss Bennet as she brought a spoonful of the luxurious concoction to her mouth and hummed softly as she savored it. As if she could sense his vexation ebbing away, she opened her eyes and gave him a conspiratorial look. “You have been quiet, sir – do you not dare ask what animal you are?”

“I am not afraid of you,” Darcy replied, hoping to match her teasing tone.

Richard laughed. “I should very much like to hear what manner of beast you find my cousin to be, Miss Bennet.”

“A cormorant,” she replied with a smile.

Darcy frowned. “That is hardly flattering, though I suppose I deserve it.”

“You misunderstand – but that is rather the point,” Mr. Marsh said hastily. “Cormorants are sadly misrepresented.”

Georgiana nodded her agreement and then handed him the book that Mr. Marsh had inexplicably brought to a dinner party. “It says that cormorants tend to improve their environs in ways that are beneficial for the other creatures around them, and are excellent divers.”

His confusion must have been apparent, for Miss Bennet leaned a little closer and whispered, “It would seem you are capable of unexpected depths, sir.”

Darcy smiled at her, and as his companions continued this repartee in assessing many others amongst the guests in attendance, his agitation gave way to such contentment that for nearly an hour he forgot about all that had troubled him that evening. Georgiana was perhaps a little bolder than she ought to be, but he had never seen her so sanguine amongst strangers. Richard, on the other hand, had been suspiciously quiet for too long, and Darcy was certain he would receive an earful of shrewd observations from his cousin as soon as they returned to Sandpiper Cottage.

The end of the evening came sooner than Darcy might have wished it. They had all stood and begun bidding one another good evening when Mr. Marsh reminded them of a small exploring party the day after next, which they had previously consented to join. Miss Bennet and Richard both answered once more in the affirmative, and Darcy nodded his own agreement; Georgiana gave a squeal of excitement as Mr. Marsh strode away.

“Oh Lizzy, I cannot recall when I have had so much to look forward to! Sea-bathing tomorrow, a naturalist excursion on Monday, and then on Tuesday the reading from Mrs. Bevan’s new novel – I confess I am looking forward to that most of all.”

“As am I,” Miss Bennet heartily agreed, though she cast a wary glance across the ballroom. “Though I beg you would not announce our plans at such a great volume, else a certain peacock might spoil my enjoyment of my three favorite pastimes.”

Georgiana clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes landing on the same finely dressed gentleman that Darcy had observed speaking to her and Miss Bennet from afar – he had been pointed out to Darcy as Sir Anthony, Miss Denham’s cousin. Chortling, Georgiana took a swaying step forward, not quite whispering, “Shall I repel him for you, Lizzy?”

Miss Bennet caught Georgiana by the elbow to restrain her at the same moment that Darcy moved to do likewise. Georgiana giggled and rested her head on Darcy’s shoulder but spoke to Miss Bennet. “I am glad you do not fancy him – he is hardly sensible enough to deserve you. I have no patience for people who do not truly understand the merits of those they claim to admire.”

Miss Bennet glanced up at Darcy as if she understood what his sister meant to insinuate; a smile tugged at one corner of her lips before she turned her attention back to Georgiana. “Yes, well, I have no need for admirers of any kind, at present. I have made a friend, which is far better, and you have already promised to keep me busy for the foreseeable future. Between my good fortune in friends and the boundless diversions to be found in the hotel, I intend to live a peacock-less existence in perfect harmony.”

As Georgiana giggled again, still leaning on Darcy, it became apparent to him that his darling little sister was drunk. He exchanged a look with Richard and Miss Bennet, who appeared to have reached the same conclusion. The latter furrowed her brows in contemplation. “Perhaps, as Miss Darcy and I are to go sea-bathing together tomorrow after church, she might stay the night as my guest? It is not a terribly long walk back to the cottage, but it is an even shorter distance just up the stairs.”

Richard nodded at once. “I think that is a capital idea, Miss Bennet – what do you say, Darcy?”

Georgiana yawned. “Oh, please say yes, William! It would be like having a sister, staying over with Lizzy – what fun!”

Though Darcy could not imagine his sister would remain awake for long enough to enjoy the novelty of the arrangement, he gave his consent. “I think it a prudent plan indeed. Will you lead the way, Miss Bennet?”

After relaying their plan to her uncle, who was conversing with a few lingering guests as they waited for their carriages, Miss Bennet led them toward a door at the end of the ballroom. She withdrew from her bodice a key on a long silver chain, unlocked the door, and pilfered a candle from one of the wall sconces in the ballroom before leading them into a dark, wood-paneled antechamber, and then up a flight of stairs that wound around three sides of the narrow room. Halfway up the stairs, Georgiana stumbled and Darcy scooped her up into his arms, carrying her the rest of the way.

When they reached the top, Miss Bennet used the same key to unlock another door, and held it open as Darcy carried his sister inside. They passed through a spacious drawing room with windows on three sides, which must have afforded excellent views of the sea during daylight hours, for even in the moonlight the room was bright. Miss Bennet gestured to the second door in a narrow corridor, and as Darcy entered the room that must be her bed chamber, he realized that they had lost Richard somewhere along the way. He was now alone with Miss Bennet and his softly snoring sister.

Miss Bennet set the candle on her dressing table and worked swiftly at pulling back the coverlet of her bed, and then retrieving a nightgown from her armoire. “Georgie?” She whispered as Darcy laid his sister down on the bed. “Are you awake? Surely you do not wish to sleep in your clothes – I can lend you something.”

Georgiana burrowed against the pillows and let out a hum of contentment. “Yes, thank you.”

“Very well. I shall leave a nightgown here for you, on the bedside table, and there is a pitcher of water, as well. I shall be just next door in the spare room.” Miss Bennet laid the garment down and hastily scooped up what appeared to be a bundle of folded letters tied with a ribbon, which she stuffed into a hidden pocket of her gown.

Georgiana reached out and caught her by the hand. “Will you stay? You said you always shared with your sisters at Longbourn.”

“Very well, if you make a little space for me. I will help you remove your underthings in a moment, but first I will show your brother out.” Miss Bennet turned to him with a smile, leading Mr. Darcy back toward the doorway. When they reached the corridor, she closed the door to her bedchamber and stopped. “I hope you do not think me a terrible influence on your sister. I believe I must apologize – I am used to my own sisters being allowed to have wine with dinner even at a younger age than Miss Darcy. I fear I was so pleased with her charming good nature that I got rather carried away in our merriment.”

“Do not reproach yourself,” Mr. Darcy replied. “Indeed, I believe I owe you the apology. I recalled, after our meeting this morning on the beach, how I behaved at the assembly I attended with Bingley – what I said, which I am certain you overheard. You must have done, for you immediately crossed the room and began speaking to Lady Parker – laughing with her.”

“Oh yes, you provided me with ample fodder for several weeks of mockery.” Though Miss Bennet had not brought the candle with her into the dark corridor, Darcy felt certain that if there had been enough light he would have seen the mischief sparkling in her eyes; it was certainly imbued in the dulcet tones of her laughing voice.

“Which I heartily deserve for such boorishness, particularly when you have shown my family such kindness after my callous cruelty. It is no excuse, but I was greatly distracted at the time – Georgiana was… not in a state of well-being.”

“She has alluded to there being many tragedies in your family – I admire her resilience. And I forgive you, if it is any consolation. When I spoke of the cormorant, before… I believe there is enough weighing on your conscience without fretting over an offense that only ever amused me in the first place. You were gone from the neighborhood before it could fester into any real resentment. Let us begin again as friends, if you can pardon me for allowing your sister to become so intoxicated.”

Darcy could see little more than her silhouette in the darkness; perhaps this made it easier for him to speak so candidly. “The blame is all my own; I have not always been the best guardian to her these last seven years.”

She let out a soft sigh. “So long? You must have both been so young when….”

His fingers twitched at his sides, his hands tingling with the inexplicable urge to reach out and cling to the first person who had ever expressed a modicum of compassion for his situation. The emotion that had trembled in her words made Darcy wish to weep, to confess the loneliness of it, the countless sleepless nights that had tormented him since taking on the responsibility of raising his sister, and failing her on more than one occasion.

“I could see your frustration at certain unguarded comments, and though I know it is not my place to say so, I am certain she worries for you just as much as you must for her,” Miss Bennet murmured. “Her good opinion of you speaks volumes.”

Darcy sucked in a sharp breath, grateful for the darkness as a tear slid down his cheek. “Thank you, Miss Bennet.”

After a moment of silence, she turned the latch and opened the door to her bedchamber once more. Moonlight from the window spilled into the corridor, illuminating her glistening eyes as she dipped her head and whispered, “Good night, Mr. Darcy.”

Darcy retreated back the way he had come, finding Richard peering out at the moonlit coastline from one of the windows in the drawing room. “We ought to go, before Sir Edward returns and gets entirely the wrong idea.”

“Why, Darcy, whatever can you mean?” Richard chuckled as he followed Darcy back down the stairs. When they reached the dark antechamber, he could hear voices and laughter in the ballroom and let out a sigh of relief that Sir Edward had not discovered them. There had been no impropriety, he reminded himself – perhaps it was only the darkness that made him feel so guilty somehow.

Darcy would have gone back into the ballroom, but Richard was examining the other doors, which Darcy had not noticed on their way up. “This must be the entrance from the courtyard – this door must connect to the hotel – I wonder where this one leads.” He opened it and stepped out into a small garden overlooking the distant shoreline, gesturing for Darcy to follow.

They oriented themselves easily enough in the moonlight, and soon found a narrow gravel walking path that led in the direction of Sandpiper Cottage. As he was prone to do, Richard spoke as if resuming a conversation, despite several minutes of intervening silence. “Would the idea be so wrong, Darcy?”

“What?” Darcy stumbled on the rocky ground and was relieved that his sister had not been obliged to traverse the uneven terrain in her present state.

“You and Miss Bennet.”

“ What?!”

Richard guffawed. “Such innocent indignation indeed! Come Darcy, you must have noticed what a diamond she is. Clever, charming, compassionate, and beautiful besides. I would be on bended knee at her feet in a trice if fortune were no consideration for me – and Georgiana would celebrate the connection.”

“She is all that you say,” Darcy admitted. “Perhaps in another life, had things gone differently.” Perhaps if he had not been in such ill humor at the night of the assembly, if he had danced with her instead of dismissing her outright, if he had remained in Hertfordshire a while longer. But events had transpired differently, and he could not so easily forget the love that had blossomed from his correspondence with Anne.

“Just as well, I suppose. When Georgie teased her about Sir Anthony, Miss Bennet replied that she has no desire for admirers. It is a pity, though, for when I think of how envious Anne looked….” Richard guffawed and turned to wait as Darcy caught up with him on the path to the cottage.

“Did she?”

“Did you not notice? No, I suppose you ceased your longing glances in her direction when you were in Miss Bennet’s company. Interesting. I first noticed that look of avarice in her beady little eyes when you were speaking to Miss Denham – she has cast you off in favor of another, but Heaven forbid you look at another woman! And then when we sat with Miss Bennet, I spied Anne glancing over at you very often. When Miss Bennet leaned over to whisper to you, I thought our cousin would fall out of her chair – I rather wish she had.”

Darcy’s mind reeled as he considered his cousin’s words. He did not bother protesting the many aspersions, which were true enough, and well-deserved. What shocked him the most was how differently he had felt at the end of the evening, compared to when he had first arrived. It was certainly something that merited further ponderance when he was not scrambling across a sandy hillside, tripping over the tall grass.

Richard moved with surer steps and continued his expostulation. “I suppose it must have nettled Anne all the more because Georgie clearly adores Miss Bennet. Already she is saying they are like sisters – albeit after consuming half the wine in the county – but she has never been so warm with Anne.”

“There is a considerable difference in their ages.”

Richard snorted loudly. “Georgie despises her, Darcy. She is not privy to the tremendous sentiments of romance in these letters, and has based her opinion on how Anne has actually treated you on the few occasions you have been in company together – and the many occasions Anne has avoided your company.”

“Georgiana may harbor some resentment….”

“She loathes her,” Richard said bluntly. “If there was a competition for loathing, Georgiana would receive the grand prize. She could compose sonnets, write essays, fill entire volumes with what you call resentment. It is plain to see in the way she looks at Anne, and tonight she could not contain it, for I heard her barbs. In vino veritas, and all that.”

Darcy’s mind drifted back to the dark corridor above the ballroom, to Miss Bennet’s gentle words of mollification. Georgiana worried for him. He had made such a mess of his betrothal that he had given his sister cause for alarm.

Richard clapped Darcy on the back. “What you ought to do is let Anne be content with less, if an inferior man makes her happy – you are worthy of far better. Miss Bennet, for instance. But since I know you will only bore me with your protests, I will not advise you to do what you ought. Instead, allow me to suggest a more devious alternative – that you give Anne a taste of her own medicine. I posit that you might inspire the same covetous pursuit in her, as she has aroused in you. If this evening was enough to spark a little jealousy in her without intending to, just imagine what you might accomplish when you really set your mind to it!”

“You cannot be serious!”

“As I told you, my serious advice is to abandon your engagement as Anne has done, and make love to Miss Bennet in earnest. My unserious suggestion is that you pretend to do so. Miss Bennet would probably agree to it as a lark, and it appears there is an overzealous suitor she wishes to avoid, so you might be of mutual benefit to one another.”

Darcy opened his mouth to protest, but he could not think of a single rational argument against the scheme. He had clearly taken leave of his senses; this could be the only explanation for how easily he had begun to consider what it might be like to carry out such a scheme. He could well imagine what Miss Bennet might say to the wild idea, how her eyes would glitter with wicked mirth, how her shoulders would bob ever so slightly from the force of her unrestrained laughter. This image gave way to another, of him taking her hand in that dark corridor, and Darcy’s mind spiraled into confusion.