Page 64 of Mr. Darcy’s Diamonds

“I want the best for her. I cannot cease thinking of her. Is not that love?”

“A weak, transient kind of love, perhaps. A selfish love that makes you feel good.”

“Do you think the near-constant pain in my chest feels good? Do you not think I would prefer to fall in love with someone I could actually marry?”

Richard sighed and sipped his drink, then set it on the table beside him. They were in the plush chairs by the large fire in his study, savoring the warmth on this dark December night. His cousin looked at him intently as though searching for something in Darcy’s expression.

“I do not mean to belittle your feelings, Darce. I know you feel deeply. Perhaps compared with most men, the strength of your regard would be enough for them to live on. But you have always felt things more than most. I do not believe you are as much in love with Miss Elizabeth as you think you are.”

Darcy shook his head as though he could dislodge his cousin’s nonsensical words from his mind.

“Because I feel deeply, I am not really in love? I wish to be with Elizabeth more than anything. I wish to care for her and protect her and give Pemberley to her, man! How can that not be love?”

“Forgive me. I do not mean to offend you.” Richard traced the rim of his glass with his finger, speaking in muted tones. “It is only…if you love her more than anything, what is stopping you from going to her and declaring yourself? If you wish to protect her and to give her Pemberley, why have you not done it?”

Darcy began to understand what his cousin was saying, and it made him queasy. Why had he allowed his supposed love to burn unchecked in his mind and heart but not escape those confines to warm Elizabeth while she suffered the bitter darts society had been throwing at her for the past year or two? Why had he not made every effort to remove his own icy dart from her memory?

What was he doing here at Pemberley, pretending he held a lofty position from which he could do nothing but look down on her? He had told his cousin he loved Elizabeth more than anything. He realized all at once that was wholly untrue. He had shown by his actions that he loved himself more. He loved society more. He loved his dead parents and his aunts and uncle more. He loved his sister more. But how could he be expected to place Elizabeth before everything that made him who he was?

Did he truly love her at all?

Darcy put a hand to his chest as he felt her being ripped from his heart.

He could not live without her!

He was living without her.

He needed her!

Why had he done nothing in her service?

When they had been merely friends, he had seen her suffering and had been her champion on more than one occasion.

His hands moved atop his head, and he bent at the waist, his forehead resting on his knees. He squeezed his eyes shut and remembered.

She had soothed his discomfort with her presence, and he had insisted she be allowed to stay in the room at the Hurst home though she was not yet out. Selfish.

He had seen her excluded, and he had arranged an excursion to the Royal Menagerie. That had all been for her, had it not? He had considered her a young friend and treasured her conversation and company, but he believed the menagerie had been for her alone.

He should have continued to support her and entertain her the next year, when he had seen her again. Instead, he had seen her as disposable because he had developed inconvenient feelings for her. He had clung to the idea of her, but he had not allowed himself to claim her or give her any part of himself after their dance.

When he had danced with her a second time, eight months ago, it had been an entirely selfish impulse.

He sat up, and shook his head, but the truth would not change. He did not love her. Then why did it feel as though his heart was breaking?

“From your reaction, I would say you have a decision to make. Either give her up, or fight for her.”

He could not give her up. Not yet. Perhaps not ever. But could he fight for her? What would that entail?

“If I choose to fight for her…will you support me?”

“I will support you no matter your decision.”

“I will attempt to come to a decision in the next fortnight, then.” At which time they would all go to Matlock House to spend the festive season with Richard’s family.

“If you decide to fight, my family will be your first campaign.” Richard grinned. “I like it.”

Darcy’s dreams of Elizabeth that night were not designed to bring comfort but chastisement. Instead of her welcoming visage he was plagued by her fiery anger. She was still alluring, but instead of entering his embrace, she turned away from him. He found himself chasing unsuccessfully after her through the night and waking as fatigued as when he had fallen asleep.