Page 11 of A Prudent Engagement

Charlotte came and put her arms around her.

After the embrace, Elizabeth did feel comforted, but determined to not allow the previous topic of conversation to recur, she hurried up to her room to help the maid in packing her clothes, saying to Charlotte as she did so, “Which of my dresses do you think will take best to the black dye for mourning?”

Chapter Three

When Darcy informed Colonel Fitzwilliam that they would leave in only two hours for London, his cousin grinned, rubbed his hands together, and said “I have had my bags packed while you played the gallant. Lord, I have been eager to be done with the visit these two days. If you delayed again, I would have gone post. I cannot stand being in close quarters with my aunt for more than a week. You wished to remain near Miss Bennet, but that left Anne as the only unmarried girl I could occupy myself with.”

“What do you mean?” Darcy had a stiff and rather annoyed tone to his reply.

He did not like his business being guessed at, and he did not like the notion that anyone could see anything of his attachment to Miss Bennet until he had announced the engagement himself.

Colonel Fitzwilliam raised his eyebrows. “Did you settle matters with the woman?”

Darcy drew himself up. “I have already told you that we shall be accompanied to London by Miss Bennet and Mrs. Collins, and then—”

That drew a bark of a laugh. “A little pretence! From Mr. Darcy of Pemberley. Cupid changes every man. You know what I mean. To pretend you misunderstand, that is beneath you—you have not settled matters?”

With a sigh, Darcy sat down. “I had not even decided for certain until today. Perhaps I had a few days ago, but I was not at peace with the matter.”

“You have not spoken to Miss Bennet about your hopes?”

Darcy shrugged. “She cannot wish to be pestered today. But I said enough to make clear to her that she does not need to fear that I shall not make the offer.”

“You made that clear to her? I suppose there is something in that. Proposals of marriage matter a great deal to women. Perhaps she would not like it so much if she had to mix the memory of her father’s death with the memory of receiving your offer. I still consider you to have displayed an unwonted sort of cowardice by casting about wildly for excuses to delay rather than displaying your usual forthright bravery and simply demanding what you desire.”

“Jove! Her father died. And I love her. My desires are of little worth at such a time. The sole question that animates me—that ought to animate me—is what will bring her the greatest happiness and…sense of well-being.” Darcy paused. “Mayhap you are correct about the matter. But she must know my feelings, especially after how we spoke and acted in the parsonage when I called. And she must share them.”

“Must? Darcy, you have been perfectly mysterious until now. I would wager a hundred guineas that your girl had no notion that you would make an offer for her hand in marriage before you ‘made it clear’.”

“What? Her native modesty must have kept her from feeling any confidence on the point until such time as I had stated my intentions, but it is impossible that she could not have seen that I admired her—especially in the past week, when we met in that grove. I have given her such hints that she could not have thought me indifferent.”

“Then you will take that wager?”

“I will not wager about Elizabeth,” Darcy replied.

“Dreadful bore. Not gambling about the woman you love. That is why I plan to never marry.” Colonel Fitzwilliam grinned. “But I like her well enough. By George, there will be a proper tempest in our teacup when you announce the whole to Lady Catherine and my father.”

“How did you know?”

“That you admire her? The deuce! It was not hard for me to guess. My dear cousin, as I have said several times, you behaved in a remarkably stupid manner when in company with Miss Bennet.” The colonel smirked. “We are all fools in love.”

Darcy frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You could barely speak half the time. Struck dumb by her beauty.”

“I am often quiet in company.”

“Not your usual quietness—none of that vaunting grandeur, none of your usual manner of conveying to all about you that you are the great Mr. Darcy who does not deign to speak to one he finds of little value.”

“I do not—”

“I assure you that you do.”

Darcy found he had little to say to his cousin’s grin. Instead his mind went back to Elizabeth’s small white hand gripping his tightly as she sobbed.

Colonel Fitzwilliam added, “If you do not accept my judgment upon your behaviour, I shall appeal to the words of the lovely Miss Bennet. As you may recall, she said as much when we talked about how you never dance and are quite unpleasant in general company.”

“That is not what she said,” Darcy replied.