Chances Come, Ney Mitch [snow like ashes series TXT] 📗

cares about family, for she was loyal to Lizzy then. And she cares for this other sister, this Kitty.”

“I am surprised at you,” Darcy observed. “For, while she is lovely, I always thought you to be the sort of man that preferred a woman who had more spark in her. More life. More vitality.”

“Women such as Jane Bennet are usually the sort of woman who possesses serenity when you meet them, but once they become comfortable around you, perhaps the liveliness springs from out of it.”

Their game forgotten, Darcy turned and sat down near Richard and with urgency in his voice, said, “Richard, listen to yourself. You are elaborating on her character growth without having any evidence to support that claim. You do not know that her character becomes less docile as time wears on. You do not know if she has a lively sort of charm that is hidden within, or even how much you have in common. She is beautiful, to be sure. And your finding her attractive is a mark of your good taste. This is all too true.

“But love is not something that is real after one encounter and when seeing the woman at her very best, when you know her so little. No. Love is what you feel after many encounters and when after seeing the woman at her very worst, and still loving her, despite knowing too much about her. The Bennet sisters can attest to that. They know what it is like to see two people who married off their initial and carnal desires.”

“You speak to me of intellectualism, but when has emotion and passion been akin to those?”

“Precisely. Emotions lead to us finding comfort in the present, but sometimes, if we lend ourselves to their moody judgment for too long, then we can suffer for it in the future.”

“If you claim to know her so well, then tell me about her? Tell me what she is like. What are her tastes, her passions, her pursuits? Is she a woman of information?”

Darcy reached for his drink, only to discover he’d already drank it. “That is the very problem. I have known the woman for many weeks, and I cannot answer any of those things. It was not until recently that I saw any sort of spark and life within her. The way that you saw her tonight and when I encountered her last, those were the only times that I began to see her be so animated. However, before that time, I never saw her be anything else but solely reactive to everything. She never sought out people to converse with or willingly offered up information about herself. Everything she said was often a response to a conversation that other people had started. Think! I have met her plethora of times and I do not even know if she prefers the city or the country. Or if she prefers coffee as opposed to tea. Or what she likes to eat, read, or do for activities. I do not even know if she is accomplished at anything.”

Richard frowned. “I never needed a woman to be accomplished to admire her.”

“Really? Because, when last I recalled, you enjoyed that Elizabeth could play and sing when we were at Rosings Park.”

“That was because, as much as I love our aunt, her home is boring.”

“Still,” Darcy said, “you do put importance on a woman having some sort of activity.”

“But you said it yourself that Jane’s character has unfolded more of late than how you knew her before. Therefore, clearly, I am correct. Her character does improve over time.”

Darcy nodded. “Her character was laid more open to me simply because of the service that I rendered her by saving her sister from Wickham. She merely feels obliged to me.”

“Does that not show goodness of character?”

“We are not here to speak of Jane Bennet’s goodness. Never believe that I do not think her anything less than a wonderful woman who has an angelic nature to her. I am merely stating that can an angel give you the sort of warmth that you need? And Richard, consider, she is in love with Mr. Bingley.”

“And I still wish that you had told me that before.”

Darcy cocked an eyebrow in his cousin’s direction. “Would it really have made much of a difference?”

“Yes, it would have.”

“Well, I did not tell you. Therefore, I cannot change the past, nor should I apologize for not having that power. How was I to know that you would feel for the same woman that my friend does?”

“I feel as if you are trying to dissuade me from choosing to consider Miss Bennet because Mr. Bingley liked her first.”

“That is not my only reason. I know how much you need to find an heiress to marry. Jane is poor.”

“Yes,” Richard sighed, “she is poor.” He stood abruptly and placed his billiard’s stick sharply down on the table. This made Darcy flinch. “Why must the women I ever possibly see myself marrying are always so poor! Why must fate always play that nasty trick on me?”

Darcy rubbed his face with his hand, flustered. The night had been going so well, up until this point. He and Elizabeth had gotten along perfectly, they were coming to stay with him, and the Gardiners liked him.

But then this had to occur! Why was it always something there to get in the way of true success and peaceful achievement? There always had to be some complication that arose, that marred the way of definite happiness.

“I am sorry about your state,” Darcy offered, “though I know that my saying it again will not change that fact.”

“No, it will not. You get to marry for love. So does Bingley. And then, there is me. There shall always be me. Sitting here and having to be mercenary in my outlook on women.”

Darcy did not respond again, but only sat there, in silence. At last, he realized that he had to speak.

“What shall you do?” he asked.

“The question