Page 52 of Mr. Darcy's Folly
“She knows she was wrong.” Darcy wondered if he had sounded like his aunt when he defended his actions in Hertfordshire to Elizabeth. He rather feared that he had.
“Of course she does,” Fitz said with amusement. “She simply prefers to revise history rather than admit it outright. If you wait a month, she will tell the neighbours that the folly was removed at her own suggestion.”
Darcy shook his head. “She is stubborn.”
“She is a Fitzwilliam,” Fitz corrected, as if that explained everything.
Darcy leaned back against his pillows, fingers drumming on the book in his lap. “Now, I must consider what to send to Miss Elizabeth in return.”
Fitz raised a brow. “Not tonight.”
Darcy frowned. “Why not?”
“Because you must let everything settle a bit first.” Fitz’s grin was positively insufferable. “Lady Catherine will be storming up and down the hall all evening, issuing fresh decrees. And if you send another missive too soon, Mrs. Gardiner might start to wonder whether she should be discouraging this little exchange. Miss Elizabeth seems to share your disdain for the sickroom, and so far, her aunt seems to think this will occupy her in a manner more conducive to her recovery. But she insisted it must be discreetly handled, and Anne agrees.”
Darcy muttered something under his breath.
Fitz clapped him on the shoulder. “Tomorrow, cousin. It will give you time to craft something particularly to charm your lady. I know how determined you can be. Put your prodigious talents to work on this rather than Lady Catherine.”
Darcy huffed. He was not used to waiting, but Elizabeth was worth it. He leaned back, fingers laced together, hands on his stomach, and closed his eyes. He could almost hear the arch tone in her voice, see the knowing tilt of her head. She had set the board, and now she waited for him to make his move.
Well, he would not disappoint her.
The following morning, once Fitz had deemed the household sufficiently calmed and Lady Catherine had turned her attentions to haranguing the housekeeper over the precise arrangement of the cherubs in the drawing room, Darcy glanced over his reply.
He flipped through the well-worn pages of a book Fitz had brought up from the library at his request, one he had often read as a boy when they all visited Rosings. In it was a translation of the Odysseus and Circe story. He flipped through the pages until he found what he wanted.
With slow deliberation, he underlined the passage.
“Circe underestimated the man who stood before her. For though she had transformed many before him, he would not be so easily undone. Yet neither did he flee—he lingered, intrigued by the woman who dared to challenge him.”
Then, in the margin, he wrote: “A man forewarned is not always forearmed, and some spells are not meant to be broken.”
Satisfied, he snapped the book shut and waited for Fitzwilliam to arrive.
When his cousin sauntered into the room, Darcy held out the volume.
Fitz eyed it with amusement. “Odysseus?”
“Miss Elizabeth will enjoy it,” Darcy said evenly.
Fitz flipped through the pages, stopping at the underlined passage. He arched a brow. “Darcy, I hardly recognise you.”
Darcy did not reply.
Fitz chuckled. “Quite the scholar’s approach to courtship.” He tucked the book under his arm. “I shall ensure it reaches the proper hands.” He motioned to the pillows. “Do not sit up too long. You know what the physician said about your back.”
“Are you going to take Lady Catherine’s place as a scold?”
“You know,” Fitz replied, ignoring the jibe, “the sooner you are well, the sooner you and Miss Elizabeth can actually meet rather than sending these little tokens. Which would be more satisfying, do not you think?”
Darcy grumbled but rolled back onto his stomach, pulling a single pillow with him to rest his head upon.
“Thank you,” Fitz said. “Always good to have a compliant patient.” He opened the door and stepped out into the hall to deliver the book to Anne.
Now Darcy could only wait. What would she send back? Would it be another book or some other game?
He could not wait to find out.
