Page 12 of Dear Friend

Darcy glanced at him.

Richard shrugged. “Why should she not? She will be nearly fifteen, Mrs. Younge will be with her, and Ramsgate is hardly the Indies. If the anticipation gives her pleasure, I see little harm in it.”

“Nor do I.” Darcy took a sip of his brandy. “I confess I am pleased that she should look forward to anything so far in advance. She has never been fond of alterations in her arrangements.”

“Then perhaps Mrs. Younge deserves some credit for persuading her that an alteration need not be an evil.”

“Perhaps she does.”

There had been a time when Darcy would have disliked the suggestion that another person understood Georgiana’s wants better than he did. He could admit now that such jealousy would have been both foolish and selfish. He was her brother, not a young woman with whom she might share every small confidence. There were matters upon which Georgiana would never speak freely to him, however affectionate their relationship, and Mrs. Younge appeared to have supplied precisely the companionship that had been wanting.

Richard watched him for a moment. “You are very satisfied with yourself.”

“With Mrs. Younge.”

“No, with yourself for finding her.”

Darcy gave him a level look. “Must you spoil every generous sentiment?”

“I should hate for you to become vain.”

“There is little danger of it while you remain in England.”

“Then I perform a valuable service.”

Richard settled farther into his chair, extending one boot towards the fire. For a few moments they spoke of other matters, a horse Richard was considering purchasing, an alteration proposed for one of the Pemberley farms, and an acquaintance whose recent marriage had provided half their circle with more amusement than the gentleman himself appeared to derive from it.

It was Richard who eventually returned them to more dangerous ground.

“Speaking of marriage,” he said, with an innocence Darcy distrusted immediately, “has this general improvement in your household extended to the other matter we discussed?”

Darcy regarded him over his glass. “What other matter?”

“You know perfectly well.”

“I am afraid you discuss so much nonsense that I cannot be expected to retain all of it.”

“The extraordinary woman whom you intend one day to marry for affection, esteem, common principles, and every other virtue you were good enough to enumerate for me.”

“I did not enumerate them.”

“No. You merely supplied them one at a time.”

Darcy looked towards the fire. “If you mean to ask whether I have met anyone I wish to marry, the answer is no.”

“Not even a possibility?”

“None.”

Richard sighed. “London and Derbyshire disappoint you again.”

“Frequently.”

“You spent some weeks in Town before you left last year, and have hidden yourself in Derbyshire for nearly all the time since. Surely, before your retreat to Pemberley, some lady managed to survive an evening in your company without being found wanting.”

Darcy shook his head at his cousin. “None whatsoever. I did dance with Miss Thornbury at the Ashworths’ the week before I left for Derbyshire.”

“Ah. Progress.”