“Sometimes you are a self-centered bastard, Darcy,” the Colonel said in disgust. “My mother has not gone out in public since that little notice appeared in the newspaper. And you know that her social life and her reputation are of paramount importance to her.”
“I am truly sorry, Richard,” Mr. Darcy said, regret lacing his voice. “I suppose I have been too wrapped up in my own misery, and the misery I suspect Georgiana is enduring, to think of anyone else.”
His cousin sighed. “I understand, I suppose. But this is further evidence of the fact that you have spent enough time wallowing in that misery you just mentioned. Enough! We are doing our best to help Georgiana. In the meantime, get on with your life, Darcy. Propose to the girl, if you care for her that much.”
“I thank you for the romantic advice; now you tell me – are you really interested in Miss Bennet? Or are you trying to school Bingley?”
Colonel Fitzwilliam hesitated. “I have never met anyone like her,” he answered, at last. “She is beautiful both inside and out. I cannot support her, of course…”
“You know that I have been hoping to give you an estate for years now.”
“I cannot possibly accept your charity.” The Colonel’s voice was firm.
“My charity? Would you listen to yourself? You have been my stalwart companion and supporter these many years, and you would name it charity? Truly, I begin to feel offended.”
The Colonel eyed Mr. Darcy. “Are you quite certain, Cousin?”
“Very much so.” He did not mention that he had already let slip this tidbit to Miss Elizabeth.
“Then – well, then, I accept with pleasure! If she will have me, then I will gladly take your gift. Thank you, Cousin!”
“You did make a bargain with Bingley, though.”
The Colonel threw his head back and laughed merrily. “I have not the slightest worry on that score!”
***
That night at dinner, the two cousins had the pleasure of witnessing Mr. Bingley’s first attempts at controlling his younger sister.
“Caroline, I have been thinking…”
“Yes, Charles?”
“I think Louisa should be my hostess, rather than yourself.”
“WHAT?”
“Yes; she is a married woman and should have been given precedence in that regard.”
“But you promised me, Charles.”
“I do not recall that I actually promised anything.”
“You promised me most solemnly. As a gentleman, it should be impossible for you to go back on a promise. Particularly one made to a young sister!”
Mr. Bingley was sweating now. “Did I really promise, Caroline? I believe I simply agreed; surely, there was no mention of a promise.”
“Oh, it was most definitely a promise. I forgive you, Charles, for bringing this up, as you evidently did not realise that you had made a solemn promise.”
Mr. Bingley hesitated and then finally said, “Very well, Caroline; I suppose a promise must be honoured.”
And his sister swiftly replied, “Thank you, Charles; I know you to be the most perfect of gentlemen, one who would never renege on a promise.”
Mr. Darcy glanced at Colonel Fitzwilliam; his cousin was hiding his face behind a napkin.
Chapter Twenty-One
Fall 1811
