“Is that how it shall be then?”
“It shall!”
“Then that is enough threat to see me in the lead; I will not allow such a terrible view to mar my memory. I imagine neither man nor beast would wish to see your front over long, much less your backside.”
“Amusing as that is, such reasoning has been mine in choosing victory. I already have been subjected to such a sight with you, and the memory torments me to no end. If anyone is to suffer this time, I fear it shall be you.”
“What of Bingley?”
“He shall see my back; I cannot speak as to yours.”
“Fair enough, he shall see both our backs… and you, mine,” Darcy said as he smothered a grin.Fitz always had a strong, competitive leaning.
A pity his horse had thrown that shoe all those months ago. Though, it had been entertaining to listen to him rail about the injustice of it. Perhaps he ought to have conceded victory to his cousin, but Fitz’s protestations gave a temptation he could not resist.
It would be interesting to see Bingley’s skill on a horse. And his view of competition as well.
“We shall see,” Fitz acknowledged, the glint in his eyes telling. He intended to be the victor.
With a chuckle, Darcy made his way through the many letters in front of him, most of an obvious labour lean–investments, updates on orders, and other mundane tasks–yet, two held hope of far more interesting contents.
“It appears your mother may have written, Fitz,” he said, holding out the letter for his cousin’s inspection, “leastwise, the handwriting appears thus. Strange though, she so rarely corresponds, and it has only been a fortnight since the last.”
“Definitely her writing.”
“Open it if you will,” Darcy suggested as he frowned at the other unusual letter, the feminine handwriting unfamiliar. “Doubtful there is anything you ought not know.”
Taking the proffered letter, Fitz shrugged, “Very well. Though if some secret I was not meant to know of is in here, I leave it to you to face my mother’s ire.”
“Agreed,” Darcy laughed. “The risk lay entirely upon my shoulders.”
Each man growing silent as letters were opened and contents read, the room grew thick with uncertainty. The chiming of the clock pouring out its melodic rhythm, every breath rising and falling in time as the papers the men held strained under tight fists.
“It seems Mother is in remarkable health,” Fitz huffed as his eyes flitted over the page. “Exceedingly so, to seek running your life and mine in one fell swoop. I take it your letter is the result of my mother’s meddling?”
A swift nod, several seconds passing, and then Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy wrestled his composure to the forefront. “It would seem so. Lady Clarissa Charmane, the Dowager Countess of Underhill in Staffordshire has included a note of introduction from your mother, as well as an invitation to join her house party in a month’s time. The invitation extends to you and any acquaintances I see fit to join… she hints that single gentlemen are preferred as there is to be a party of young ladies who might benefit from the entertainment.”
“Hints?”
“I was endeavoring politeness.”
“Indeed? Well, I have heard worse attempts,” Fitz smirked at his cousin, Darcy’s frown causing the smirk to grow before his attention drifted to the letter he still held; the mirth dissipating in short order. “Mother and this Lady Charmane are of a matchmaking turn it would seem; kindly meant but insultingly put at that.”
“Well,” Darcy announced as he let the letter fall where it may upon his desk, “I intend to send word of my refusal!”
Brows drawing upward, Fitz tilted his head toward his brooding cousin. “While I would be content not going–save for the knowledge that I am bound to hear of it for years, and you as well–I wonder at your swiftness at declining. I trust it is not due in any part to the refusals of your invitations? Or wounded pride? Or, worse still, a dislike of Lady Charmane because she is a peer? I too dislike matchmaking, and if that is your only reason for dismissing such an invitation, you shall hear no more of it from me… however, should any of these other reasons play a part, I suggest you reconsider. For your sake, as well as your sisters. Pride, heartache, or prejudice do not speak well of any man if they push him to rashness; your sisters need your strength. And the friendship of Lady Charmane is not bound to hurt you or them either, for all the trials of her wishing to find us partners.”
Hands clenching as he let out a soft growl, Darcy considered his cousin’s words.Matchmaking was only a small part of his reasons for rejecting the invitation. He did not wish to leave his sisters alone for the better part of a month. Well, never alone, their governess, masters, and Mrs. Reynolds would keep them company, but still, they had not been apart more than a day since their parents had died. They needed him.
That, however, did nothing to take away the rightness of Fitz’s words. His rejection by the neighboring families had hurt him. His heart and his pride. Though, if any prejudice resided, that was fully justified. Indeed, Lady Charmane was a member of the Ton, and that fact alone meant fair odds she ought not be trusted.
“Well?” Fitz questioned; the long silence giving rise to the rightness of his claims within the man’s mind, as evidenced by the tall posture and broadening of his shoulders.
“I cannot deny that matchmaking is not my only reason for turning down the invitation, though I have one solid reason that ranks above it. My sisters. Neither should find themselves alone. Not for so long in any case.”
Chuckling, Fitz shook his head at Darcy, “Mother has seen to that; it is her intention to visit Pemberley and spend one month with your sisters. And, my, would you have guessed her dates overlap those of your invitation exactly! It is uncanny.” Crossing his arms, he leaned his head back, eyes cutting toward his cousin as he laughed. “All your reasons for remaining here appear to be falling to the wayside. I trust there are no others to add?”
Shaking his head slowly, Darcy’s gaze dropped.No. There were no other reasons. As much as he disliked how little their aunt and uncle had written or seen them, he would not deny his sisters time with family. Lady Matlock did love them, for all the groveling she had engaged in with the Ton… and perhaps discovering what wonderful girls they were would lead her to put family over society?
