As he tied his horse to the fence post, he decided he would simply conduct himself as he would if he were in Town, no matter what provocations she tossed his way. After all, he had tried everything else to no avail, and it was clear that no matter what his approach, sooner or later she still managed to take offence. He might as well accept it, stop trying so hard and simply be prepared to make light of whatever her response might be. At least if he behaved as the Town Brougham would, he would have a ready-made protection for himself. A sort of armour, so to speak, already in place and one he was quite used to donning as second nature. He was a little surprised that he had not thought of this sooner and was also a bit saddened that he had to bring such false fronts and subterfuges to his most sacred and beloved place in the country where he always allowed himself refuge from such things, but he would do as he must to keep what was left of the little peace he still had here.

Thus fortified, he gave his greeting with a genuine smile, his new resolve seeming like a fine enough compromise to an insurmountable problem.

“Miss Tournier! How fierce you look with that knife in your hand! Remind me to never offend you when you are thus armed.”

She seemed baffled at first. Her response was slow in coming as the look of irritation already on her face began to change to one of surprise. It then moved on to confusion, and finally became a small smile that grew until it was large enough to become a laugh.

He suddenly realised his earlier theory about using science and flattery as the only safe subjects with this woman had not been entirely accurate. He decided that he could now add surprise attack and apparent insolence to that list. Encouraged, and feeling quite smug now as well, he continued, the Town Brougham persona exuding from every pore.

“Miss Tournier, I am a weary traveller who has come for tea and company. Do you suppose, as the well armed gatekeeper, that I might be allowed admittance to your mother, who will hopefully welcome someone with such needs?”

“As sentry, I deem that your request shall be granted as harmless enough to gain entry,” she replied, the laughter still a small ember in her eyes as she showed him through the door and into the parlour. She then excused herself and went to call for the tea.

As Holly stood at the kitchen basin washing the remnants of her gardening from her hands, she also worked at removing the silly grin from her face that still remained from his odd greeting to her. She pondered her own peculiar reaction to it now, for strange it truly was if one considered the normal irritation that usually overpowered her at the very presence of that man. Yet standing there, she still found his description of her very humorous, or at least she did until suddenly, upon further reflection, she realised that from his point of view it was also a very apt one and her smile vanished in that instant.

This perspective, both unwelcome and unbidden, made her cringe a little inside. Why exactly did he annoy her so much? Surely it was not like that with any other person? Well, Lucy maybe, and perhaps if she were to be completely honest with herself there were a few others as well, but still, she was at least certain that she never lost her temper with others as often as she did with him. She even took pride in the fact that she was a person who spoke her mind when it mattered, and she did not suffer fools well at all. She was convinced that he must give her reason to be so irritated – that he indeed must be a fool – or she would not respond thusly to him on such a recurring basis.

Quite frankly, he was rather too like Mr. Darcy for comfort, and that man she certainly did not like, even though she could not quite put her finger on the why of it. Forget the fact that Lord Brougham was talkative and bold where his friend was quiet and reserved. That meant nothing really. They were both cut from the same privileged cloth, and it mattered little how they outwardly composed themselves. It was what there was on the inside that counted in the end – and also what occurred as a result of their actions. They both were empty and selfish and would take what they wished no matter who it affected. She was sure this fact would be borne out with time. It was simply too bad it would be Lizzy’s broken heart that would provide the tangible proof. Well, she thought, at least she would be there to help pick up the pieces. Lizzy could always rely on her even if she did not currently seem to take advantage of that comforting fact.

No, she finally decided most emphatically, Lord Brougham’s obstinate remark to her gave no credit to its originator. It had simply struck her as funny because it was so far from his usual attempt at using flattery to gain favour that it caught her by surprise. Yet she knew she had to suffer his company because her mother found him amusing, and the least she could do for her mother was to try and be pleasant to him for her sake. Even though she herself disapproved of the man in general, the one aspect in his favour was that she would do anything for her maman – even politely endure the company of pompous men.

She left the kitchen, tea tray in hand, no longer concerned about having to have it with the gentleman from Clyne – for the first time since she had met him. It was all going to be perfectly well. She would even try to gather enjoyment from his company instead of vexation if she could. She would attempt to find the humorous side of everything he uttered. She would do it for her mother. It was as simple as that.

She entered the parlour just as Mrs. Tournier had finished reading something aloud to their guest and was eagerly awaiting his response to it.

“And now, madam, pray tell, how will you reply? Will you attempt to make the Bishop choke on his morning cup of coffee?"

Mrs. Tournier smiled, his answer all she could wish for.

“I will let you know as soon as I have thought of it. Do give me your opinion though. Which do you think would have more of the desired effect: my quoting the scriptures or if I were to use portions of his own writings against him?”

Brougham laughed, and having noted Miss Tournier’s entrance into the room, politely thought to include her in the conversation.

“Now, Miss Tournier,” he cheerfully said, “do you happen to be aware of the contents of the letter your mother just read to me?”

“I am, Lord Brougham. She finds it so entertaining that she shares it at every opportunity.”

“I do not!” Mrs. Tournier feebly protested, “Only to those who would appreciate it.”

“Well then, Miss Tournier, you will already know that she is on the question of whether dull women make suitable wives and companions of brilliant men. There is no way to win this debate, I am sure. If I were to propose that a dull woman would never intellectually stimulate the man and might even stifle him, I assume your mother would find it a tedious argument, saying one is responsible for their own stimulation. On the other hand, if I proposed that the state of the woman’s wits would not matter in the least, for the brilliant man who chose her may not have been looking for a thinking wife at all, instead preferring to be inspired elsewhere when matters of the mind are concerned, then no doubt your mother would object to the notion of women being anything that would fit a man instead of being as dull or as witty, or as accommodating or as opposing as she herself chooses to be.”

Mrs. Tournier grinned slyly at him but Holly came first with a response.

“I cannot help but agree with your predictions about my mother’s possible reactions, Sir. However, I do not think you would fare much better if you were to debate me on the issue. I find it hard to believe that any thinking man would be content with a wife who was completely lacking in the area of original thought. Tell me, from a man’s perspective, would having a spouse who blindly follows only her husband’s way of thinking not grow very boring with the passage of time?”

Thinking a direct response was not the proper path to take, he quickly composed one that would dance enough around her question to leave him safely above any further argument she might choose to make.

“I know of enough examples of such marriages to hazard an answer, but I can see that I would only dig myself in deeper no matter which direction I chose to go,” he said, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I will venture, however, to suggest that love is not only blind but often confused with other feelings. I would guess that many clever men, who make such a match, likely wake up one day only to note that they did, indeed, have it confused.”

Monsieur Vian entered the room at this point, leaving Brougham wondering what her reply might have been, but only briefly.

“Good morning mes cheres Tantine et Cousine,” and with a nod, “Lord Brougham.”

Mrs. Tournier smiled and turned up her cheek to accept his kiss, and Miss Tourner greeted him with a polite nod as he approached her to acquire a cup of tea.

“Please, do not let my entrance interrupt your conversation, which I know must be as brilliant as the company is splendid.”

Holly poured for him and replied, “We would welcome your joining in if you will, Monsieur. We were discussing choices and their consequences, and I would be impressed indeed if you could find a way to lighten such a heavy topic. Are you up for the challenge?”

Vian grinned. “I am always up for a challenge.”

“Well, suppose a person has made the wrong choice in their pick of a spouse, either through being mistaken or being foolish. I am sure you can imagine the consequences. I was about to ask how such an unhappy circumstance might be lightened once it was entered into?”

Vian smiled broadly at Mrs. Tournier. “You have brought out your letter once again, I see.”

Holly glanced at her triumphantly, to which her mother only replied, “Well, I knew he would appreciate it!”

Vian became thoughtful for a moment. “Well, it is certainly not an easy question, but if one cannot have what one wants one should always try to appreciate what one has. If the choice was wrong, but willingly taken, and if the conversation began with talk of spouses suiting each other mentally, then I assume at least one spouse, or perhaps even both, would be well matched as to their expectations of the other’s semblance. At least some part of the match would not be unpleasant. It would be good for the spouses to try to widen their horizons then. Their children might also bring them closer together. It might not be the most happy match, but mutual respect might improve their common life.”

Vian looked at his cousin. “I sincerely hope that such a fate will not be my own. That is why we in France never hurry with the choice. It is so easy to mistake the first infatuation for love, the first fine face for real beauty, and a few kind words for wisdom. My father is very happy with his choice, and from what I know, yours was too.”

He smiled knowingly at his godmother, who returned it, the pleasurable memories momentarily etched on her face for all to see. “Indeed it was, but you should not worry for yourself, my dear, for if your thinking follows such a path you will not go astray in your choice.”

Holly smiled at him as well. “We would all be fortunate to be blessed with such a favourable outcome. And with such examples before you, Monsieur Vian, I am also confident you will choose wisely and be very happy. So it seems, for men at least, patience is the key to domestic bliss.”

He replied cordially, “I am not sure I would agree so readily, ma chere. I think that patience helps only to avoid foolish choices, but experience and thoughtfulness help to avoid the wrong ones.

“And I certainly disagree that a man's position is any different than a woman's when it comes to happiness in marriage. Why, what if a man never meets the right woman, or even worse, he does meet her but she rejects him? And what about men who, though gentlemen, do not have the means to marry their chosen one?

“Every woman can derive an advantage from the same experience. It is in her power to encourage the right gentlemen and discourage the unsuitable ones. But she does not risk ridiculing herself by having to be the one to propose the marriage. She can acquiesce or not, it is always her choice.”

Brougham held back a sarcastic smirk upon hearing Vian’s words. Vian was the victor after all and could be as smug as he liked as he so callously described Darcy’s situation perfectly. Had Miss Bennet told him how she had rejected Darcy? Very likely she had, being so close with that gentleman. He wondered briefly why she was absent now, yet his thoughts were soon diverted by the main topic of the conversation. He was curious as to how Miss Tournier would respond, hoping that she would put him down soundly as she would have done to himself were he to dare utter such things. He grinned as he noticed Mrs. Tournier, who seemed to be holding her own tongue with great difficulty, obviously torn between curiosity at what her daughter might say next and wishing to respond to Vian herself. Her pride for her daughter must have won out however, for not a word escaped her tightly clamped lips.

Holly leaned forward as if engaging in an academic debate and tapped her forefinger on the tabletop as if to help emphasise her point. “You overestimate the ability of the woman to control her situation, Sir. As we discussed at an earlier time, ladies are bound by the constraints of good manners and expectations. If a lady tries to encourage a gentleman who has not already shown an interest, she is considered forward and vulgar. If she tries to gently discourage a man she feels is unsuitable, more likely than not he will refuse to take the hint. If she tries more vigorously, he is liable to become either angry or more determined, or so dejected she is forced into acceptance by guilt – or she risks being labelled as too particular, as unkind, or even worse.

“Yes, we have the power of acceptance or denial, but we can only exercise that power once an offer has been made. Otherwise, we must wait passively for what might come to our door. A man, at least, may actively pursue what he seeks.”

“Bravo, my dear!” Arabella cried out with a great deal of spirit.

Vian took her answer to heart, but collected himself quickly enough to not show his reaction, and grinned to his cousin instead. “Touché, ma chere, although, I really think that a suitable man would catch even a very discreet hint of encouragement. I assume that you yourself would not be really interested in a dim gentleman. However, I have to give you due justice in the contrary example, for it is true that a very determined man, who cannot accept the denial, may cause a serious problem. It often happens that a man, especially a vigorous one, may totally misread the signs.”

“You assume correctly,” Holly replied, “that I would not be interested in a dim witted gentleman, however it does not follow that such a gentleman would not be interested in me – and whether interested or not, I must then suffer his attentions until I am able to put a stop to them. And in doing so, I am bound to cause pain, or anger or both. I am sure there are many, of both sexes, who misread the signs – it is easy to see only what one wishes to see.”

“My poor cousin, I can see that there is only one salvation for you. You have to marry at once. Can I be of service?” He looked at her and laughed heartily.

She laughed in return, but then, with a sparkle in her eye, leaned back in her seat. “Ah, now you see... here is where the game begins in earnest. I am faced with an unexpected offer and must now weigh my options. Hmmm.... you are handsome, which any man aspiring to be my husband ought to be. You are financially secure. Your connection to my family is also in your favour. These are all circumstances that aid your suit.

“On the other hand, you live far from my home in a country we are presently at war with, I am uncertain whether our temperaments would be a good match – we are both impulsive which could lead to misfortune – and most importantly, I believe your offer to be insincere and made only out of obligation.”

She smiled again to underscore the fact that she was teasing. “So, now I must settle whether the most decided advantages of such a marriage would outweigh the most decided disadvantages. I shall have to consider your offer at some length, Monsieur Vian. May I give you my answer tomorrow?”

Vian posed a look of despair. “And so you see, my dear cousin. Here we are! I offered you myself, and you want to keep me sleepless all night.”

She laughed openly. “But Sir, we women have so few opportunities to hold the reins of power, you cannot fault us for taking advantage of them when they come along.

“For the next twenty-four hours, while you wait in helpless anticipation, you are completely at my mercy. Once I accept your offer – which I am seriously considering, by the way – I have lost all advantage.

“Of course, I may reject you. Then it will be up to you to decide whether to accept my decision or not – and again, the control is no longer mine. No, you must allow me this interval to cruelly trifle with your affections.”

Vian smiled mischievously. “Very well, then, madam. It seems that the ladies of this charming family simply like having their power over men, so I certainly cannot suspend any pleasure of yours. But I have to warn you, my dear, that if you do not accept, I will have to make my offer to your mother. How would you like calling me papa?”

Brougham stifled a laugh as he watched Mrs. Tournier roll her eyes and head toward the ceiling.

Holly nearly shouted in triumph, “Thank you, Sir! You have proven my point even better than I could have done. You have, with one stroke, taken away all of my advantage by introducing a rival and reminding me that, as a man, you have options that I do not.

“I cannot very well solicit another marriage proposal to counter yours between now and tomorrow, but you are able to offer to another woman right away. I must now either accept you out of desperation, or sit idly by and wait for the next man to offer - and suffer the suspense of wondering if another man will offer.”

She gave him a saucy look. “As for calling you papa, I might just like that.” She giggled.

Vian smiled, “Oh, I simply think we both like having our own way and our respective sexes have nothing to do with it. How can I know you will not accept my proposal only to keep my hand hostage while indulging in trifling with my heart by flirting with any other gentleman you know, and perhaps in the meantime encouraging them to propose so that you could withdraw the promise given to me and go with a more prosperous offer?”

His eyes wandered to the other side of the room. “Lord Brougham, would you be so kind and threaten to ask for my cousin’s hand in marriage tomorrow if she does not accept me?”

Brougham had been following the conversation closely, choosing not to join in, but instead finding some amusement in imagining Miss Tournier married to Mr. Vian. It did seem like it would be an odd and combustible combination of personalities. Suddenly finding himself as an unwilling participant in the mock proceedings struck him as rather ironic, especially considering how they felt about each other, it would be an even more volatile match than the other pairing. At least there was no fear that she would mistake his intentions and think any suggestion of an offer coming from him would be a real one. He smiled and looked at Miss Tournier and then met Vian’s eyes.

“Now that would be a threat, indeed! But, alas, I fear an empty one. I cannot help but think your suit would gain from my offer, since Miss Tournier has already counted a great many advantages to it, whereas I could only offer her science, flattery and a chaotic library.”

Vian looked at his cousin. “Let us see, my dear, please, correct me if I am wrong. If I understood you well, to those three most beneficial advantages mentioned by Lord Brougham, we might also add his being handsome, financially secure, his connection to your family seems quite amiable,” Vian nodded to his aunt with a smile, “and moreover, the distance from his home to Rosefarm seems highly convenient.”

He glanced back at Brougham. “Well, you have already bested me. Whether your offer will be sincere depends only upon you. And my cousin should be the judge of your temper.”

Brougham laughed. “I thank you for your aid in furthering my suit, Monsieur, and I have no doubt your advocacy was most flattering if you had not mentioned the one thing Miss Tournier would have good reason and experience to hold against me – my temper!”

Holly laughed. “That is true, my Lord. But you have a different advantage over Monsieur Vian. He has not been treated to my own temper as often as you have, so you have the benefit of having more information upon which to base your decision whether to tender an offer or not. Perhaps it would have been wiser for me to have readily accepted the first proposal, made before my true character was widely known.”

“Well, my child!” Mrs. Tournier broke in with a smile, unable to stay quiet any longer, “I say you have reached the pinnacle of your power when you can acquire a father and a husband all in one day! And I have to remark that I do not object to either of them.”

Brougham smiled and kissed her hand. “Madam, I thank you for your approval of my person and your hospitality, however I must now be on my way. It was as delightful as ever.”

As he got up to take his leave, Miss Tournier stood to bid him farewell. He took her hand and bowed to kiss it, and with his eyes sparkling mischievously he said, “Please do not stand on such ceremony after I have so humbled myself in front of all your relations.” He gave Vian a nod. “Monsieur, good day to you.”

Holly watched him mount his horse from the window. Completely unaware of the action, she slowly touched the back of her hand to her cheek. Her thoughts were agreeably occupied with how well tea had gone today. She felt maybe a crossroad had been reached between Lord Brougham and herself. She had not become angry with him even once while he was in the room. Of course it did not hurt that most of the conversation was carried on with someone else… Yet he had handled himself well as a pawn in the mock proposal. At least he did not run screaming from the room, although she noted that he did take his leave rather quickly after it. She laughed softly at that thought as she moved slowly toward where her mother was speaking to Monsieur Vian.

As Brougham rode away he mentally tucked Town Brougham into his coat pocket, ready to pull out and use again as needed. “Such a handy fellow,” he mumbled, patting his horse as he said it.

“Darcy, here you are!” Brougham exclaimed from behind his paper. “I was about to indulge in some of Mrs. McLaughlin’s fine cooking. You are just in time to join me.”

“Any plans for today?” Darcy offered once their meal was served.

“Actually, none yet,” he said as he tucked into his meal with gusto. After swallowing he added, “I have just returned from a visit to Rosefarm.”

“Have you? Was it not a trifle early for a morning call?”

“Perhaps it was, but I have found that Mrs. Tournier and her party are always up early. It must be required for the kind of work they do.”

“Yes, that may be so,” Darcy nodded. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Immensely!” he quipped.

“I gather Mrs. Tournier does not cease to entertain you then?”

Brougham watched Darcy carefully as he reached for his glass. “Actually, today’s diversion was all due to Monsieur Vian.”

Seemingly occupied with his plate, his friend gave no discernable reaction to his words, and so Brougham continued.

“The man seems quite a good sport after all. Actually, just to prove his point in an argument about marriage prospects, he offered himself to Miss Tournier.”

Darcy took a slice of bread and buttered it studiously.

Brougham tugged at his sleeves, and straightened the cuffs carefully and sighed, disappointed that there was not some response to his attempts at entertaining conversation.

“Well, she has not accepted him yet,” he added, not willing to give up either the effort or the topic so soon. “She has till tomorrow to make up her mind, but I wonder what he would do if she did accept.”

“Would any woman take such a proposal seriously?” Darcy finally spoke, taking pity on his fidgeting friend.

“I would hope not,” Brougham said thoughtfully.

“Then why the dilemma? He most likely did not think he was to be held to it.”

“I suppose it is just a curious case. After all, there always is the risk that the lady might consent. Let us suppose you were to make such an offer to a lady that hoped to entrap you. She might accept. What would you do then?”

“I would never make such an offer.”

“No, I suppose you would not.” Brougham looked at his friend, clearly disappointed that he did not find the dilemma as interesting as he found it himself.

Darcy, seeing it, offered as consolation, “Your supposition does imply that Miss Tournier means to trap Monsieur Vian, though. I assume you think that is so?”

“Hmm,” Brougham paused to consider it. “I would not know about that actually, and have not given it any thought, but it would not surprise me if it were so. It would be an advantageous match for her, and since Miss Bennet, her most formidable competition for his attention, was not in attendance, it would also be a prime opportunity to make such a move. Interesting thought!” He paused, but then his countenance changed dramatically at a particular recollection. “However, I should hope she would not jump to such a hasty conclusion, for in the course of the discussion I was encouraged by Vian to threaten her with a similar offer should she reject him. I did not commit myself of course, but it was very close, and I would not like for her to think she has a real alternative.”

Darcy smiled, being all too familiar with how perfectly his friend could dance around a topic in order to avoid any kind of commitment.

Brougham shook his head to clear it of such speculation before continuing with his previous thought. “But as to the other… Let us say you made such an offer to a good friend. Not meaning it to be serious, but only in jest. Suppose it was a person you have known for a long time. A cousin or a sister of a good friend.”

“I can imagine both situations quite easily.” Indeed, Darcy thought, much easier than his friend could know. “There is no way I would risk such an offer in either case.”

“Ha!” Brougham stabbed his fork into the air with enthusiasm. “Then you do suspect they might consent,” he said with a triumphant smile at his friend’s finally joining in the discourse.

“I do not suspect. I know they would.”

“Then you assume that even if you thought you made it clear to everyone that you did not mean the proposal to be real, they might not see the joke behind it and take it seriously instead.”

“I know, regardless of the state of their sense of humour, that they would wish to take it seriously.”

“Very well,” Brougham continued, eager to extend the banter, “let us assume that you made such a mock offer and they took it seriously. Would you then feel obliged to fulfil it?”

Darcy calmly looked at his friend. “Yes, I think I might.”

Brougham let out an incredulous gasp. “Would you? Would you really marry her?”

“No, I did not say that. I would do anything to avoid the fate. My offer would not have expressed my real intent. But I might feel obliged. After all I gave my word, and I can see how in some cases it might be very difficult to become disentangled from such an arrangement. That is precisely why I would never make that kind of offer.”

“And what might those tough cases be?”

“Well, it would certainly be more difficult to persuade my relative to abandon any claim on me than it would my friend. Close connections and high standing in society might make the matter all the more complicated.”

“Then your word would mean less if uttered to a low born gentlewoman?”

“Certainly not. I am only talking of practical difficulties such a misspoken step might cause. But I would value my word the same no matter the social position or relationship to the lady. That is precisely why I would not make such a statement at all, especially only to prove a point in a discussion.”

“Do you think that Monsieur Vian was serious then?”

“Only he would know that.”

“Really? Do you not think he would rather make such an offer to Miss Bennet if that were the case?” Brougham causally tossed out.

“No, I do not think so.”

He peered at Darcy over the rim of his raised glass. “So you do not agree that he is interested in her?”

“It is not the kind of offer one makes to a woman one is really interested in.”

“True,” Brougham agreed and became thoughtful for a moment before continuing. “Then you do not believe he was serious?”

“I do not know, really. After all, I was not there to even witness it. I only have your brief description to go on, but I do know that a man does not need to care about a woman to propose.”

“Are you relieved then?”

“Why should I be relieved?” Darcy said reaching for a bottle.

“If he were seriously proposing to Miss Tournier, and if she does accept him, then Miss Bennet will be safe.”

Darcy calmly watched the even flow of the red wine as it filled his glass. “I do not think Miss Bennet is in danger either way.”

“Oh? Please do expound upon that statement. I am all ears and eagerly await your logic, especially since it just may defy everything my own eyes have witnessed.”

“I do not think Miss Bennet would accept him.” His fingers lightly encircled the stem of his glass.

Brougham’s doubtful stare lingered on Darcy’s face. “You appear to be very sure of her.”

“I do not think she cares about him.”

“And that is reason enough for a country squire’s daughter to reject a wealthy gentleman?” He cocked his head to the side in disbelief.

Darcy straightened in his chair and coolly looked into Brougham’s eyes. “That is quite enough, Brougham.”

Conveniently ignoring which possible meaning Darcy’s enough might have inferred, he persisted, “Forgive me for saying so, for I do presume that you will not agree, but although I know that a lady’s feelings may not always follow what is prudent, more often than not it would be imprudent for her to follow them.”

“You are quite right, I do disagree.”

“Darcy, a lady of insubstantial means needs to marry sooner or later. Her welfare depends upon it, and I would say her refusal might actually expose a capricious nature rather than any real virtue on her part.” Brougham pulled down on his waistcoat, which had managed to ride up as he slouched comfortably in his chair.

“Brougham, while I would not envy a woman who did not marry, and therefore had to depend her whole life on her relatives, I am not certain fulfilling marital obligations would be a lesser punishment for her than the alternative of lacking her own home.”

“Oh, I do not think marital obligations to a man like Vian would be such a punishment.”

“I would not scorn a lady who accepted Vian’s proposal without any true sentiment for him, but I do believe it is her right to refuse. After all, neither of us can know what a lady’s feelings towards such obligations might really be.”

“Come now, Darcy, we both know such duties can be quite pleasant. And Vian does not seem to be a man who would be negligent.”

“Assuming that the lady’s heart was never touched, it very well may be as you say. But what if the woman truly loved someone else? Her thoughts and feelings would be with the other man every night that she was visited by her husband. Would it be honest to promise him love knowing it was a lie? Would it be a real marriage?”

Brougham laughed at that. “Darcy! I cannot believe you delude yourself with thinking that most marriages are what you would describe as real! Come now! Most are simply arranged for convenience or for reasons of vanity. Perhaps either the man or the woman is infatuated in the beginning, maybe even the both of them are and they might think it is an endless love, but it does not remain that way.”

“On the contrary. I was never deluded as to why people marry, but that does not mean I should follow in their footsteps. A man does not promise only respect and admiration to his wife. He also promises to love her. I value my word, Brougham. I would never pledge my love to a woman if I knew it was a lie. And especially knowing my heart belonged to another.”

“Love! Love is simply a word that everyone likes to use but no one knows what it means really! I might say I have loved many women equally well, and they have all loved me in return.”

“Or you have loved none.”

“Exactly!” Brougham laughed. “I have very often fallen in love with a pretty skirt, the social standing of the woman it adorned not withstanding, and if the lady returned my feelings it was all very well, but I do not remember ever being sorry for long if she did not.”

“I think we are talking about totally different kinds of feelings here.”

“Darcy, I have lived almost thirty years on this earth, and I assure you it is the most I can feel for any woman. The reasons for my attraction may have differed on each occasion, but the ardour was always equally strong.”

“You do not wish to marry then?”

“Oh, I do,” he sighed. “One day. With an appropriate lady.”

“Do you plan to feel anything for her?”

He laughed. “Of course. She shall have my highest esteem.”

“And admiration?”

“Not too much of it, I hope. That would not be prudent.”

“Why ever not?”

“Darcy, as much as I know I have loved many women, my love for none of them was lasting. It would not do to give my wife any false impression about it.”

“You do not believe a man can be faithful to his wife?”

“I do believe that! A man may do whatever he pleases, and he can even achieve that if it suits him, but if it is to be so it would not be out of natural inclination but only due to his strong will. Do I strike you as such a person – both constant and full of that sort of strength of will? Quite frankly, I cannot imagine it myself. One woman, and one woman only, for ever after?” He grinned and gave a small shudder at the thought of it. “I would certainly nod off far too often from boredom.”

Darcy did not choose to reply and so Brougham continued, “I know you currently feel an incredibly strong attachment to one particular woman, and it has been so for some time, but how much of it can be attributed to your real feelings for the lady that you are calling love, and how much is just your obstinate nature that does not allow you to step away from a challenge?”

He watched Darcy rise from his chair and slowly walk to the window. His tall, straight posture seemed to bar the sunlight from the room. Glancing at his friend’s squared shoulders, he continued to carry his point.

“Assuming that she did return your feelings and consented to become your wife, she would make you a very happy man for some months to come. The thrill of the engagement would only heat your desire for the matrimonial duties that you say she might find so unpleasant without the proper sentiments for you on her part. Then the blissful night would come. You would partake of her bed as often as you wished for some weeks. But how long, do you think, would it be before you grew tired of her? Would it not be unfeeling to give her the promise of a husband that you could not sustain for the rest of your life? Would it not be much more prudent to spare her the disappointment?”

He watched as Darcy turned to face him, casually leaning against the window’s sill, but the glare his friend paid him was nothing close to inviting.

“No, Darcy. I say that a proper lady with a good understanding, an even temper and well-schooled manners would make the best wife. A woman who looks for honours in a marriage rather than love is most likely to remain a good and convenient companion.”

Darcy smirked, “And with such an attitude towards matrimony, I suppose you will be particular as to where you will find your future wife?”

“Of course. Only a society lady will suit.” Brougham hesitated before adding, “Darcy, Miss Bennet may be very sweet, but apart from her lacking the proper sentiments towards your person that you think are so important, one day you would tire of her, and then all you would be left with would be a very inadequate wife for a man such as yourself.”

Brougham held his breath, knowing full well that he had sailed into dangerous waters, but Darcy, who knew all along where the conversation had been heading, ignored his friend’s last remark just as he had all of his previously expressed insinuations.

“Is, then, your newly found interest in what you referred to yesterday as our own class an expression of your desire for a wife?”

“Not at all,” he said as he finished pouring himself more wine. He aimed the bottle toward his guest’s glass but stayed the motion when Darcy put his hand over the top of it. “That was actually an expression of my desire for good manners in general. I am particularly tired of the humours and whims of ill bred women, and I believe that the company of ladies who know how to entertain a man’s mind with intelligent conversation, who will allow him to enjoy their elegant musical performances and enchant him with polite manners – ladies, mind you, who particularly never raise their voices – are the only thing at the moment that will save my faith in the weaker sex at all.”

Darcy’s brow arched. “I see you are desperate then.”

“A desperate man seizes whatever he can reach at the end of his arm. I am simply worn out and I have found a very appropriate cure. Trust me, you will enjoy their company too.”

“If you say so.”

Darcy decided it was time to end the discussion before he would have to risk their friendship by confronting Brougham’s new revelations with his friend’s not so distant past interest in Georgiana. He suggested an afternoon ride.

Brougham readily agreed and quickly finished off his wine, happy that this one attempt at conversation seemed to be successful after all. He could tell that Darcy’s mood was far better than it had been the day before and, if it held till evening next, he was confident his friend would enjoy the company of the Misses Torence. Darcy might not appreciate Brougham’s attempts now, but he would thank him in the future.

Darcy had been surprised by his lack of emotional reaction regarding Vian when Brougham had brought the gentleman up in their earlier conversation. The fact that he did not feel his engagement to be at all endangered by him was very comforting. Jealousy was a particularly base sentiment in Darcy’s eyes and every time he detected that emotion in his own reactions it heightened his awareness. Yet, out of honesty towards himself, he never denied its existence whenever it occurred, and he even consciously admitted that to some extent jealousy would always accompany him whenever Elizabeth was involved. He only hoped to be able to keep it under restraint. This day’s confrontation had actually brought relief. He was not jealous then!

No, indeed, he was not.

Jealousy always accompanied a sense of insecurity, and he felt very confident about Elizabeth’s feelings.

As he prepared for bed he smiled as his thoughts wandered to this morning’s encounter with her.

His wish to not allow Vian to deal with Tidwell alone now felt suspicious to him. There was no reason to assume that the Frenchman would not be able to set this matter to rights by himself, yet Darcy had problems with leaving it to him. Both Elizabeth and Vian were correct. It was the Frenchman’s family that was really endangered by Tidwell. Darcy would take Elizabeth away soon enough to spare her the rake’s presence. Still, something in him did not want to let it pass, and, even with his newly found confidence in Elizabeth’s love, Darcy was vaguely aware that it had much more to do with Vian than with Tidwell.

It was difficult to put his finger on it, yet he decided to take cautious steps for now. He would still try to find out as much as he could on his own, but if it became apparent that Vian would be able to solve the matter on his own then he, himself, would let it go.

This story is written by Laura and Sylwia, and they own full © copyrights to it.

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