Page 98 of To Love And To Cherish
He stepped close and kissed her, and she caught his lower lip lightly between her teeth, her fingers threading through the lock that always tumbled over his brow. He drew her close, kissed her deeply, then stepped back.
"My darling, I’ll be back soon," he said.
Chapter 50: Darcy Asks for Assistance
Darcy presented his card and was promptly admitted to his aunt’s elegant townhouse in Berkeley Square. The drawing room was a vision of refined taste and quiet opulence, a reflection of its sole occupant, Lady Helen, who looked up from her correspondence with a brow arched in surprise.
“Fitzwilliam! I did not expect to see you again until March, or perhaps April.”
He gave her a sheepish grin and bowed. “Nor did I, Aunt. I had intended to remain away until I had settled on a suitable candidate to be my wife. Alas, none of the diamonds of the first water appealed.”
Her brow arched. “Indeed? Two of those diamonds are now betrothed.”
His smile widened. “How curious. Which two?”
She laughed. “Not the diamonds, actually. Miss Emily Fitzgerald, with her tidy dowry of forty thousand pounds, is engaged to Lord Peregrine Montague.”
Darcy chuckled. “Montague? He has mortgaged every inch of his estate. He would endure a glacier for that fortune.”
Lady Helen gave him a reproving look. “Fitzwilliam, you do say the most dreadful things.”
“I beg your pardon, Aunt. I forgot myself. And who is the other?”
She hesitated, then smiled. “I hardly dare say, for fear of your commentary. Miss Harriet Beaumont to Mr. Hawkins.”
He snorted. “A sanctimonious match if ever there was one. She and Cornelius Hawkins shall spend their marriage judging the world over breakfast. But I have to admit they are a perfect match for one another.”
Lady Helen chuckled despite herself. “What, then, brings you back so soon? Have you come to request another dinner for the lesser heiresses?”
He shook his head. “No, Aunt. I am come to place the announcement of my marriage in the papers, and to ask for your assistance.”
Lady Helen blinked. “Your marriage?”
Before she could recover her wits, the drawing room door opened again.
“Darcy, a married man?” Richard Fitzwilliam strode in, grinning. “I thought none of the young ladies at my mother’s dinner so much as roused you from your sulk.”
Darcy turned to greet his cousin. “And yet you, Richard, are not betrothed either. I take it none of the diamonds glittered for you?”
“I would rather remain single and penniless,” Richard replied with a grimace, “than tie myself to any of those man-eaters.”
Darcy laughed. “How fortunate, then, that the Viscount is contentedly married and has two sons; you are safe from being sacrificed to the cause.”
Richard dropped onto the settee beside him. “Come now, Cousin. Tell us about the mysterious lady who captured the mighty Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
Darcy’s expression softened. “She very nearly slipped through my fingers. A Scottish laird fancied her as an ornament for his ancestral castle in the Caledonian forest. By the by, he breeds horses, Richard. You should see my latest acquisition.”
“You’ve piqued my interest,” Richard said. “I’m in the market for a stallion. When can I see him?”
Lady Helen cleared her throat. “Boys, if you please. I wish to hear about your wife, Fitzwilliam.”
Darcy turned to her. “Aunt, on paper, Elizabeth Bennet may not impress. Her dowry is nonexistent, her relations are not of the first rank, but she is everything a man could desire. Intelligent, spirited, kind. She delights in the absurd, speaks four languages, and possesses the rarest wit. We are very well suited. And she makes me very happy.”
Lady Helen was quiet for a moment. Then, with narrowed eyes, she asked, “That all sounds very fine, Fitzwilliam. But what are you not telling me? You are keeping something back.”
Color rose to his cheekbones. “I only wish for your help in easing her into society. I fear she will be targeted by the more feral members of the ton.”
“As long as you have not married your cook, I daresay I can manage,” Lady Helen said dryly. “Come, out with it. What is the worst?”
