Page 31 of The Slipper Scandal
Darcy groaned.
"What I find most intriguing," Fitzwilliam continued, "is that you care so much about her opinion. I cannot recall a time you were so concerned about offending someone who is not family, and certainly not a lady you scarcely know."
"I have agreed to marry her," Darcy said. "She will be my family, and it would be preferable if we could at least be civil to one another."
"Civil?" Fitzwilliam echoed with a smirk. "My dear cousin, I believe your aspirations extend well beyond civility.” He stretched his legs out and crossed them at the ankles. “You are always so precise in your planning. The fools at Whitehall could learn much about strategy from you, and Pemberley runs like clockwork under your hand. But romantic conquest? You are discovering that it is an entirely different game.”
“You areenjoyingthis.”
“I must admit that I am.”
Darcy glared at his cousin. "Is there a purpose to this visit beyond tormenting me?"
"Indeed there is. Mother’s art salon is on Friday, and you have not responded to her invitation. She was concerned your secretary had lost it.”
Darcy closed his eyes. “Is that this week?”
“Yes. She thinks it would be an ideal time to introduce Miss Bennet to the ton, and requests that you have her arrive a little early so that she can speak with her before the guests arrive.”
“I am not certain Miss Bennet is ready to face the ton yet.”
“Darcy, if you are to wed the woman, you shall have to introduce her, and this is a rather fortuitous opportunity for it. She shall be on friendly ground with my mother and father supporting her, and I understand the Abernathys are also invited.”
Darcy felt his pulse quicken at the prospect of seeing Miss Bennet again so soon, though whether from anticipation or anxiety, he was not certain.
"It would be an opportunity to redeem yourself," Fitzwilliam added.
“And for you to meet Miss Abernathy again.”
“For my mother to meet her, yes. Poor Miss Abernathy.”
Darcy stared at his cousin with surprise. Taking a lady to meet his mother was tantamount to a proposal from Fitzwilliam. "You have long said you would not marry regardless of your mother's expectations."
"Because I had not met a woman who interested me," Fitzwilliam replied lightly. Too lightly. “Now I have.”
"So soon?"
"I was growing quite attached to her last season before I was called away," Fitzwilliam said with the same decisive tone he employed when discussing military strategy. "I am fortunate that she is yet unmarried, and I do not intend to waste time now. I have seen enough of the world to recognise a woman worth pursuing when she presents herself."
Apparentlyhiscousin’swalk in the park had gone very well indeed. Darcy would not press Fitzwilliam on the matter. He had to repair things with Miss Bennet, and the sooner the better. If he could support Fitzwilliam in his own pursuit, he would certainly do so. "Very well. The Abernathys have received an invitation?”
“Yes, weeks ago. They have accepted.”
“Then I shall attend."
Rising from his chair, he moved to the bell pull to summon his valet. He would need to give serious thought to his attire for the event. He never thought about what he wore; he paid his valet to do that for him. But now he wished to please his betrothed, and what would his unmarried valet know about that? Nothing tooostentatious, certainly. Abernathy had said Miss Bennet did not like pretension. Yet he wished to appear at his best.
"I see your mind is already at work," Fitzwilliam observed with amusement. "Might I suggest focusing less on your appearance and more on your conversation? Perhaps practise a few compliments that do not mention illness."
Darcy knew he would be entirely unable to deliver such with any degree of proficiency, let alone charm. There was no use in planning his approach; Miss Bennet could dismantle a strategy faster than he could form one. Best to forgo the attempt entirely—he would have to converse with her without any plan at all but honesty.
It was not a comforting thought.
"I cannot help but feel that Miss Bennet would see through any rehearsed pleasantries."
"Indeed," Fitzwilliam mused. "Then you must march into battle unarmed. Speak from the heart, Darcy.”
As his cousin departed, Darcy contemplated the evening ahead. No more awkward, blundering attempts at gallantry. No more stiff formality. No more strategy.
