“By ‘it,’ I assume you must mean Miss Elizabeth.”
“Careful, Darcy,” said Fitzwilliam, the first true grin he had shown since Darcy arrived the previous day. “My acquaintance with Miss Elizabeth is of sufficient intimacy to understand how she would react if she heard you referring to her as ‘it.’”
“I shall not quibble about who first used the term,” replied Darcy. “The truth is, I have no notion what I will do. Miss Elizabethisan excellent young woman, but there are several drawbacks to any interest in her.”
“If thereare, I should like you to explain them.”
Darcy shook his head, becoming exasperated with his cousin. “There is no need to explain—you understand them well enough yourself.”
“Perhaps you refer to dowry and connections,” said Fitzwilliam.
“Cousin,” said Darcy, not willing to discuss this any longer, “you know I cannot pursue her. As a younger son, you enjoy a freedom that I do not possess. My father married the daughter of an earl—my duty is to improve my family’s position in society and increase our wealth. Miss Elizabeth cannot assist in either endeavor.”
“That is utter nonsense, and you know it, Darcy,” was Fitzwilliam’s blunt reply. “Or you would, if you ever drew your head down from the clouds long enough to consider it.”
Darcy’s frown deepened. “Iam better able to determine what is best for my situation, Cousin.”
“Then let us consider your points in turn, Darcy. I shall show you where you are in error.
“First, let us speak of your mother, my aunt. Yes, she was the daughter of an earl, but what of your great-grandmother? If my recollection of your family history is accurate, I believe she was the daughter of a minor country gentleman in Leicestershire whom your grandfather met while staying with a friend. How was she any different from Miss Elizabeth?”
“Well—” began Darcy, only for his cousin to interrupt again.
“Then let us speak of society. IfIspeak of my need to marry for money often,youspeak even more about your distaste for society. You abhor young ladies searching for the wealthiest man you can find, yet you saddle yourself with Miss Bingley.”
“If I wish to retain Bingley’s friendship,” protested Darcy, “there is no other choice.”
“Yes, I suppose you are correct. My point had nothing to do with Miss Bingley and everything to do with how you see society. As you have not had any success finding a wife in London, you should consider looking elsewhere—since I suspect you admire Miss Elizabeth, who better than she? Moreover, you do not care for most of the connections you have; if you care little for Mrs. Bennet and her youngest daughters, at least she is not immoral.
“Then you spoke of increasing your wealth.” Fitzwilliam’s snort told Darcy what he thought of that consideration. “I was not aware that Pemberley was at risk of insolvency without a handsome dowry to prop it up.”
When Darcy found he could not reply, Fitzwilliam continued. “The fact is that you can afford twenty such wives as Miss Bennet and all their assorted children. I should think that happiness in marriage would be far more valuable than another influx of thirty thousand pounds.”
“And you suppose I would be happy with Miss Elizabeth for a wife?”
Fitzwilliam regarded him as if he were wondering about the soundness of Darcy’s mind. “No, Darcy, I shall not presume to understand the finer points of your requirements for a wife. What Icansay is that you are more likely to find contentment with a woman such as Miss Elizabeth, who is intelligent, witty, unpretentious, and pretty, than with a woman of the ton you will marry for nothing more than her fortune and connections. As we have established that you need neither of those virtues in a wife, why should you not choose a woman who is their superior?”
With a sigh, Fitzwilliam shook his head. “Darcy, let me tell you something. When I determined that Miss Bennet was worth all these things and more, I did not hesitate, though my power of choice is far less extensive than your own. I do not say it to display my liberality, but to emphasize the choice before you—happiness in marriage is not a matter of chance. To obtain that happiness, you must choose it, and then guard it all your days. Marrying a woman possessing all society deems necessary will bring those benefits, but will it bring you happiness? If you are so indifferent about the identity of the woman you marry, you may as well marry Miss Bingley.”
“You forget, Cousin,” said Darcy, allowing a hint of amusement, though he still felt off balance. “Miss Bingley does possess an acceptable dowry, but she cannot bring any of those other virtues.”
“Exactly. I do not think you would be any happier with a woman of the ton than you would be with Miss Bingley.”
Darcy pondered the subject for several moments and then sighed. “Lady Catherine will be outraged if I pursue Miss Elizabeth. Should I marry a woman of society, she would not like it, but at least she could not object.”
“You know very well that she would object anyway.”
Fitzwilliam’s conviction was clear in his firm reply, and Darcy could not suppose he was incorrect.
“What of your father?”
“What of him? I was not aware you were beholden to him.”
“No, I am not, but I cannot think he will be any happier about mychoice, if it is Miss Elizabeth.”
“I think you may underestimate him, Darcy. As Father knows of your disinterest in Anne, he hopes you will marry the daughter of an ally, but he understands he cannot direct you. His confidence in your character will tell him that you are not throwing yourself away on an unsuitable woman—he and my mother will be cautious, but Miss Elizabeth will win them over.”
“This is all so new,” replied Darcy, uncertain what he should do. “I should not decide without weighing it carefully.”
