Page 58 of The Slipper Scandal
Fitzwilliam glanced up, some of his own melancholy giving way. "Your visit did not go well, I take it?"
"It went reasonably well," Darcy replied, rising to pace before the fireplace. "But what we spoke about—" He broke off, frustrated.
"She remembered that you are only marrying her because of an unfortunate incident in a garden," Fitzwilliam supplied. "And that obligation is a poor foundation for lasting happiness."
"She has told you this?" Darcy asked sharply.
"No, but Miss Abernathy offered some hints, and unlike you, I do not find conversation with ladies an insurmountable challenge." Fitzwilliam set his glass aside. "Miss Bennet has been raised to believe that marriages founded on circumstance rather than choice inevitably sour. Given that her own parents seem to have followed precisely that path, her fears are hardly irrational."
Darcy took a sip of his drink. "The difficulty lies in convincing Elizabeth that I am not her father, withdrawn and sardonic, and she is not her mother, nervous and dissatisfied." He stopped when he noticed Fitzwilliam staring at him. “What?”
"You called her Elizabeth," Fitzwilliam noted with interest.
Darcy ignored him. "I understood her reluctance before, but now that I comprehend its source, I find myself even more at a loss. How does one provide assurance against a fear that might not materialise for years? How can I prove that my regard will not wither over time when time itself is the very thing we do not possess?"
"That is a difficulty," Fitzwilliam agreed, sombrely.
Darcy resumed his seat, leaning forward with elbows on his knees, his usual perfect posture abandoned in the privacy of his study. "I have tried reason, Richard. I have explained that mutual respect and common interests form a stronger foundation than many marriages can claim. I have assured her that I admire her. Yet she remains unconvinced."
"Because this is not a logical objection," Fitzwilliam replied. "It is an emotional one. She needs to believe that your feelings run deeper than a mere admiration that will diminish over time. She mustfeelit."
"It is not so simple," Darcy protested. "If I declare myself too firmly, she will think I am merely attempting to persuade her with false sentiments."
"I see." Fitzwilliam studied his cousin with newfound understanding. "The lady has become important to you. This is no longer about fulfilling an obligation."
Darcy met his cousin's gaze steadily. "No."
His cousin stared at him for a moment. "Have you fallen in love with her? That would complicate matters considerably."
"Would it?" Darcy asked, genuine puzzlement in his voice. "I should think it simplifies things. My objective remains the same: to win Elizabeth's trust and persuade her to proceed with our marriage."
"Except now your own heart is at risk," Fitzwilliam pointed out seriously. "And you, cousin, do not recover easily from disappointment."
"I am perfectly capable of managing my own feelings," Darcy insisted, though in this case he was not entirely certain.
Fitzwilliam’s answering gaze was sceptical.
"What else can I possibly do?" Darcy demanded. "Compose sonnets? Send flowers daily? Make grand declarations in public? None of those gestures would convince Elizabeth of anything except that I have taken leave of my senses."
Fitzwilliam set his glass down with deliberate care. "You are approaching this from the wrong direction entirely, Darcy."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning that you cannot simply reason away her fears. You must replace them with something stronger." Fitzwilliam leaned forward, his voice dropping as though imparting a great secret. "You must do more than court her—you must make her fall in love with you."
Darcy stared at his cousin. "That is your grand strategy? To somehow compel her affections?"
"Not compel," Fitzwilliam corrected patiently. "Inspire. And from what I have observed, it is not so impossible a task. The lady already responds to you in ways she likely does not even recognise herself."
"You cannot possibly know that."
"Can I not?" Fitzwilliam challenged. "I have seen how her eyes follow you when she believes no one is watching. How she engages with you more thoroughly than with anyone else in the room.” He smiled. “And I have had the benefit of speaking with Miss Abernathy. Miss Bennet is more than halfway there, Darcy. She simply cannot admit it to herself because she is frightened."
Darcy absorbed this assessment in silence, a flicker of hope kindling within.
"What you need," Fitzwilliam continued, warming to his subject, "is to shift the balance. Currently, she fears marryingyou more than she fears losing you. Reverse that equation, and your problem is solved."
"And how, precisely, am I to accomplish this remarkable feat?"
