Page 65 of The Slipper Scandal
"Trinkets suggest he is attempting to purchase her affection," Fitzwilliam pointed out. "Miss Bennet would see through that immediately."
"A hothouse bouquet," Milton declared. "Winter roses and forced lilies. Impressive without being ostentatious."
Darcy stared at him. "You propose that I present Miss Bennet with flowers? That is your grand gesture?"
"Not just any flowers," Milton insisted. "A purposefully composed arrangement with symbolic meaning. Roses for love, forget-me-nots for true remembrance, blue hyacinth for constancy—ladies understand those sorts of things.”
“What ladies?” Fitzwilliam inquired.
Aunt Matlock appeared quite baffled.
Milton sighed. “I assure you, the most fashionable set understands such things. Mr. Harold Wentworth secured Lady Caroline's hand with nothing more than a nosegay and a meaningful glance."
"Lady Caroline had already refused four eligible offers," Fitzwilliam interjected. "Including one from a baronet. Her mother might have cast her out had she rejected another."
"He had excellent timing," his uncle observed.
Milton nodded sagely. "And a remarkable talent for meaningful glances."
Darcy pinched the bridge of his nose. "You are all enjoying this far too much."
"Nonsense," Lady Matlock said firmly. "We are merely exploring the possibilities. What about a private concert? Many ladies are moved by excellent music."
"A concert featuring what, precisely?" Darcy asked wryly. “I can hardly command an entire orchestra to appear on command.”
"We could arrange something intimate," Milton offered, a mischievous gleam entering his eye. "A small gathering, select musicians—"
“We are already planning to attend Lady Spencer’s concert.”
“Bah. Bunch of unmarried girls performing in the hopes of ensnaring a husband,” Milton said, his nose wrinkling in distaste.
"Darcy plays the violin quite well," Uncle Matlock observed unexpectedly. "I recall hearing him perform once when I visited him at Cambridge. Quite moving."
That was the last time Darcy had played before an audience, for he had endured a great deal of teasing over it.
"The violin! Perfect!" Milton exclaimed. "Nothing speaks to a woman's heart like music."
"I am not performing for Miss Bennet," Darcy stated flatly.
"Why ever not?" Lady Matlock demanded. "If you possess a talent that might help your cause—"
"Because Miss Bennet's concerns cannot be addressed in such a way," Darcy cut in, his patience wearing thin. "She fears that any regard I feel for her now will inevitably diminish over time, as her father's did for her mother. That our marriage, founded on obligation rather than choice, will become a prison for us both."
A momentary silence fell over the table as they absorbed this.
"A legitimate fear," the earl said at last, his voice thoughtful. "And one not easily dismissed with conventional courtship tactics."
"No," Darcy agreed. "Which is why I would prefer to handle this matter in my own way, without interference, however well-intentioned."
The look that passed between the Fitzwilliams told him his preference had been duly noted and would be thoroughly ignored.
"Darcy," Lady Matlock said, her tone gentler now, "you must understand that we only wish to help because we care for you. And having met Miss Bennet, I believe she could be essential to your happiness."
"If only she were not so stubborn," Milton mused.
"Says the man who once refused to leave his bed for three days because Father would not buy him a horse," Fitzwilliam said, shaking his head.
"I was twelve," Milton protested. "And it was a magnificent Arabian. I might have paraded it on Rotten Row and been the talk of the ton."
