Page 22 of Desired By Mr Darcy
“A soldier’s life is rarely conducive to grand romance, Darcy. I must consider my circumstances. Unlike you, I cannot rely on a sprawling estate and endless funds to sustain my dreams of marital bliss.”
“Perhaps,” Darcy replied, “but you may find that when the right person appears, such calculations become less pressing. The heart has a way of undermining even the most carefully laid plans.”
Bingley nodded in agreement, his expression earnest.
“It’s true. I thought myself a practical man, but then I met Jane, and suddenly, all else seemed insignificant. Her happiness became the only thing that mattered.”
Fitzwilliam looked between the two men with a theatrical sigh.
“How disheartening it is to be surrounded by such paragons of romance. Perhaps I shall take my leave before I am entirely overcome with envy.”
“Your cynicism is transparent,” Darcy observed, though there was a glimmer of amusement in his voice. “You may jest, but I suspect you would not be so dismissive if you were to meet someone who truly challenged you.”
Fitzwilliam arched a brow.
“Challenged me? I think not, Darcy. I prefer to remain unchallenged and unencumbered. It makes life far more predictable.”
“Predictable, perhaps,” Darcy said, his gaze steady, “but hardly fulfilling.”
Fitzwilliam chuckled and drained the last of his brandy.
“Well, my dear cousin, I shall leave you to your wisdom. Let it never be said that I do not admire your conviction, even if I do not share it.”
Bingley smiled, his tone light.
“I imagine you’ll change your tune soon enough, Fitzwilliam. After all, if Darcy can find himself thoroughly besotted, there is hope for everyone.”
The colonel stood, stretching lazily as he set his glass aside.
“We shall see, Bingley. For now, I will content myself with my bachelorhood and the freedom it affords. But rest assured, I shall be the first to toast your marital bliss when the time comes.”
With that, Fitzwilliam excused himself, leaving Darcy and Bingley alone in the drawing room. The fire crackled softly, casting warm light over the polished wood and gleaming crystal.
Bingley turned to Darcy, his expression thoughtful.
“Do you think Fitzwilliam truly believes what he says? That he is content as he is?”
Darcy considered this for a moment before replying.
“He may believe it now, but contentment and happiness are not always the same. Fitzwilliam is a man of great loyalty and honour. I suspect that when he finds someone who values those qualities as much as we do, his perspective will change.”
Bingley nodded slowly, a small smile playing on his lips.
“You’re probably right. And in the meantime, we shall do our best to set a good example of wedded harmony.”
Darcy allowed himself a rare smile, the corners of his mouth lifting in genuine amusement.
“Indeed. Though I suspect Elizabeth and Jane will prove far better examples than we could ever hope to be.”
The two friends shared a quiet laugh, the warmth of their camaraderie as steady and reassuring as the firelight around them.
“Well, the hour grows late. I ought to return home.”
“Very well.”
“Isn’t it wonderful to have them here in London?” Bingley said dreamily. “I cannot wait for a time where I will never have to say goodbye to her, only goodnight – and we will wake side by side.”
“You will share a bedroom?” Darcy asked with a raised eyebrow. “That seems highly unusual.”
