“And I repeat, Mrs Cooper is not the family in question.”
“A man has but one family—parents, siblings, cousins, and in-laws of every description. If you examined our own, you would discover we are far from perfect.”
“It is of less importance how the in-laws are. They may be exceptional without offering the measure of a family.”
“So your reservations remain, and they still concern her family.”
Darcy paused to inspect a section of fencing which appeared improperly secured. He summoned a servant to repair it and only then turned again to the colonel.
“No, I shall not ask her to marry me. Let us not continue to circle the matter. I do not know whether it is a final resolution, and I have learnt—from mistakes and suffering—not to pronounce definitive verdicts to which I must afterwards remain bound. At present, to offer her marriage would not be right.”
“Towards whom?”
“Towards myself. Towards her.”
“God, Darcy, if life were merely black and white, I should understand you.”
“Then take this explanation: it is no longer enough that she should become my wife. I want more; it is not the first time I have told you so. Her feelings for me are essential now. What is so difficult to accept in that?”
“And did you observe nothing of the sort?”
“Positive feelings?” Darcy gave a short laugh.
“I had a very interesting conversation with Mrs Cooper—”
“I observed how rapidly the friendship was formed.”
“In sarcasm, you are unrivalled,” exclaimed the colonel, though without offence. Between them it was perfectly natural. “Yes, she is a remarkable woman—”
“And wealthy.”
“How do you know? Have you been making enquiries?” The colonel was genuinely curious, gossip of any kind was foreign to Darcy’s nature. Though they discussed everything freely between themselves, among their acquaintances in Derby and London Darcy’s aversion to idle conversation was well known.
“There was no need to enquire. It is astonishing what people are willing to relate unprompted. Mrs Cooper has been a widow for perhaps eight years; she cannot be more than one-and-thirty or two-and-thirty; she has two children and a remarkable fortune, which, it seems, she manages exceedingly well together with her father.”
“She is handsome as well, and very elegant.”
“Those, I believe, are your own observations.”
“They are the observations of the younger son of an earl, who stands in much the same position as the Miss Bennets in point of fortune—”
“Do not exaggerate. Lady Matlock would never permit you to live beneath the station to which you are accustomed.”
“Principally because she is seeking me a wealthy wife, not because she could interfere in the division of the Matlock fortune, which passes chiefly to my brother.”
“To seek you a wife is not an especially difficult undertaking.”
“In London it is more difficult than you imagine. In our society, wealthy heiresses are inclined to make their own choices. Those without title desire one, while the rest desire…love.”
“Not all. Miss Bingley would marry you immediately, though you possess no title, merely to be admitted to your mother’s circle.”
The colonel made rather a sour face, though he offered no reply.
“I perceive you do not like Miss Bingley excessively.”
“And do you admire her? Why do you not marry her yourself?”
“Because, by chance, I am now in love with another woman—”