Page 63 of The Slipper Scandal
"Father is right about one thing,” Arabella said at last. “If the colonel truly cares for me, this separation will not be the end of our story. And if he does not . . ." She shrugged, though the gesture lacked conviction. "Well, then I shall have learned a valuable lesson about the transient nature of attachment."
"For what it is worth, I do not believe his regard for you is transient," Elizabeth assured her. "Anyone who observed his attentions could see his interest."
"As anyone who observes Mr. Darcy with you can see his," Arabella countered with a small smile. "Yet we both doubt, do we not?"
Elizabeth could not argue with this assessment. Every interaction with Mr. Darcy left her more confused, more conflicted about her own feelings.
"What shall you wear tomorrow evening?" Arabella asked, breaking into Elizabeth's thoughts with a deliberate change of subject.
"I had not considered it," Elizabeth admitted, grateful for the shift to more practical matters.
"The sea-green silk," Arabella decided firmly. "It brings out the remarkable colour of your eyes, and you have not worn it yet."
As they fell into a more light-hearted discussion of appropriate attire for the opera, Elizabeth found her thoughts returning to Arabella's words.Be brave.
But could she?
Chapter Nineteen
Darcy had just finished his solitary dinner and was contemplating an evening in his library when an insistent pounding at his front door drew his attention. Before his butler could properly announce the visitor, his eldest cousin Henry Fitzwilliam, the Viscount Milton, stood in the doorway to the dining room with the confident air of a man accustomed to having his every whim indulged. Tall and fair where his younger brother was of middling height with darker colouring, Milton cut a dashing figure in his impeccably tailored evening clothes.
"Darcy! You look positively”—he tipped his head to one side to study him— “awful. Come, you are expected at Matlock House."
"Milton," Darcy acknowledged, rising from his chair with a sense of foreboding. "Fitzwilliam said you had returned to town."
"Just today. Summoned, you know." Milton moved into the room, examining Darcy with exaggerated concern. "Fitz warned me, but I thought he was exaggerating. Love denied has not improved your countenance, cousin."
Darcy stiffened. "Fitzwilliam has been discussing my affairs with you?"
"Oh, not just with me." Milton's smile unfurled in the particular arrangement of features that had reduced half the denizens of London's drawing rooms to sighs and fluttering handkerchiefs. "You should have written to me sooner. It will be more difficult now that time has passed, which is why your presence is requested at Matlock House for dinner and a discussion of strategy.”
"I have already eaten," Darcy protested, though he suspected it would do little good.
"Come watch us eat, then," Milton replied breezily. "Mother sent me specifically to fetch you. And you know how petulant she is when denied."
Darcy frowned. "My valet will need to—"
"Your valet is being informed," Milton interrupted. "He will prepare your evening clothes." He clapped Darcy on the shoulder. "Do not attempt to resist, cousin. The Fitzwilliam family is marshalling its considerable forces on your behalf."
Less than an hour later, Darcy found himself dressed for dinner and seated in his uncle's elegant dining room. He was surrounded by four Fitzwilliams, all of whom were regarding him with varying degrees of interest and amusement.
"Darcy, my boy," his uncle said. "Good of you to join us."
"I had little choice in the matter," Darcy replied drily, glancing at Milton.
"None whatsoever," Milton agreed cheerfully.
Lady Matlock, resplendent in a gown of sapphire silk, regarded Darcy with the shrewd assessment that had intimidated even the worst termagants of the ton. "Richard has been telling us about your predicament with Miss Bennet. I knew she was not fond of being forced to wed, but now we know why."
Darcy shot a betrayed look at Fitzwilliam, who merely shrugged. “Your vaunted skills in strategy are hobbled where Miss Bennet is concerned.”
Had they not had this conversation only a few hours ago? “I have a new strategy.”
“Which I gave you, and for which you have very little time. Let us assist.”
“I cannot believe you revealed our conversation to your family.”
"They would have found out eventually," Fitzwilliam said, not looking remotely apologetic. "Better to enlist their help from the beginning. Besides, they were quite impressed by Miss Bennet at the salon."
