Read Online Mr. Darcy's Obsession by Abigail Reynolds - Free Book Online
Authors: Abigail Reynolds
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suspiciously.
Henry did not miss a beat. "The new mare Darcy is considering buying. Good brood stock."
Lord Matlock choked on a bite of pastry, and his subsequent coughing spell, with Lady Catherine's constant advice on how to make it cease, caused the subject to be dropped.
***
The sky was grey as the coach finally clattered along the road to London. Georgiana had blankets across her lap to keep away the cold that filtered in through the sides of the coach, her hands ensconced warmly in a fur muff.
"I hope you do not mind leaving Rosings early," her brother said.
"Mind? I could not be more delighted. I was starting to think of stuffing my ears with cotton, since all I ever did was agree with everything our aunt said." Georgiana burrowed deeper into her blankets as she heard the rapid tattoo of raindrops hitting the carriage. "Even London will be a pleasure after this."
Darcy smiled, but it looked forced. Georgiana wondered what had made him suddenly decide to leave today instead of next week, but he had a shuttered look on his face when he announced their departure, and she had been too intimidated to ask, especially once Lady Catherine started in on him. Then there was the mystery of the girl who was sitting up with the coachman. Darcy had muttered something about needing a new kitchen maid, but London was full of girls searching for positions. The girl herself said nothing, but seemed to look to Darcy for protection, while he seemed annoyed by her presence. When her brother was in one of those moods, it was best not to ask questions.
"Georgiana, have you thought about the sort of gentleman you wish to marry?" he asked abruptly.
Georgiana started. "No," she said hurriedly and then realized how ridiculous it sounded. "Not much, that is. Not too old, I hope, but not so terribly young either."
"You will be coming out next winter. Surely you have more thoughts than that."
"I assumed you would pick someone suitable, a credit to the family, and ask me if I liked him." She would never dare choose based on her own sensibilities again, not after the last time. "Do you have someone in mind?"
He shook his head, his lips in a straight line. "There are many men I would not wish you to marry, but no one in particular I would choose. That is why I wish to know what you would prefer."
She pursed her lips. He seemed to want an answer, but what could she say? "Someone kind, I suppose. Someone not so very sophisticated, not someone who would want to entertain constantly. Someone like, oh, Sir Robert Sutton, were he twenty years younger."
He laughed, a startling sound in the tension. "I believe Lady Sutton might object to you marrying her husband."
"I did not mean him, but someone like him."
"I know, sweetling. It is just an amusing thought. But a fine example. He is a good man, trustworthy and reliable."
"Yes," she said, relieved he had found the words for her.
"Sir Robert and Lady Sutton seldom go to town."
"I would not mind that." In fact, she would much prefer it that way. "But I know I must marry someone worthy of a Darcy." A country squire was unlikely to meet that standard.
He muttered something under his breath. "Georgiana, as long as he is honest and responsible, you may marry whom you wish. I care not about his family or prospects, as long as he is respectable."
She did not know what to say. Perhaps he was not well, and it was a fever speaking. Was that why they left Rosings so abruptly? Suddenly it all came clear, and she stiffened. "Has Lord Matlock already chosen someone? Someone you would not wish me to marry?"
"If he has someone in mind, he has not told me. In any case, he is the last man I would trust to choose a suitable husband for you." He sounded angry.
She pushed her hands deeper into her muff, clenching them together where he could not see. "Oh," she said weakly.
The corner of his mouth turned up wryly. "As it turns out, I do not much like our family either, it seems."
She had never heard her
Henry did not miss a beat. "The new mare Darcy is considering buying. Good brood stock."
Lord Matlock choked on a bite of pastry, and his subsequent coughing spell, with Lady Catherine's constant advice on how to make it cease, caused the subject to be dropped.
***
The sky was grey as the coach finally clattered along the road to London. Georgiana had blankets across her lap to keep away the cold that filtered in through the sides of the coach, her hands ensconced warmly in a fur muff.
"I hope you do not mind leaving Rosings early," her brother said.
"Mind? I could not be more delighted. I was starting to think of stuffing my ears with cotton, since all I ever did was agree with everything our aunt said." Georgiana burrowed deeper into her blankets as she heard the rapid tattoo of raindrops hitting the carriage. "Even London will be a pleasure after this."
Darcy smiled, but it looked forced. Georgiana wondered what had made him suddenly decide to leave today instead of next week, but he had a shuttered look on his face when he announced their departure, and she had been too intimidated to ask, especially once Lady Catherine started in on him. Then there was the mystery of the girl who was sitting up with the coachman. Darcy had muttered something about needing a new kitchen maid, but London was full of girls searching for positions. The girl herself said nothing, but seemed to look to Darcy for protection, while he seemed annoyed by her presence. When her brother was in one of those moods, it was best not to ask questions.
"Georgiana, have you thought about the sort of gentleman you wish to marry?" he asked abruptly.
Georgiana started. "No," she said hurriedly and then realized how ridiculous it sounded. "Not much, that is. Not too old, I hope, but not so terribly young either."
"You will be coming out next winter. Surely you have more thoughts than that."
"I assumed you would pick someone suitable, a credit to the family, and ask me if I liked him." She would never dare choose based on her own sensibilities again, not after the last time. "Do you have someone in mind?"
He shook his head, his lips in a straight line. "There are many men I would not wish you to marry, but no one in particular I would choose. That is why I wish to know what you would prefer."
She pursed her lips. He seemed to want an answer, but what could she say? "Someone kind, I suppose. Someone not so very sophisticated, not someone who would want to entertain constantly. Someone like, oh, Sir Robert Sutton, were he twenty years younger."
He laughed, a startling sound in the tension. "I believe Lady Sutton might object to you marrying her husband."
"I did not mean him, but someone like him."
"I know, sweetling. It is just an amusing thought. But a fine example. He is a good man, trustworthy and reliable."
"Yes," she said, relieved he had found the words for her.
"Sir Robert and Lady Sutton seldom go to town."
"I would not mind that." In fact, she would much prefer it that way. "But I know I must marry someone worthy of a Darcy." A country squire was unlikely to meet that standard.
He muttered something under his breath. "Georgiana, as long as he is honest and responsible, you may marry whom you wish. I care not about his family or prospects, as long as he is respectable."
She did not know what to say. Perhaps he was not well, and it was a fever speaking. Was that why they left Rosings so abruptly? Suddenly it all came clear, and she stiffened. "Has Lord Matlock already chosen someone? Someone you would not wish me to marry?"
"If he has someone in mind, he has not told me. In any case, he is the last man I would trust to choose a suitable husband for you." He sounded angry.
She pushed her hands deeper into her muff, clenching them together where he could not see. "Oh," she said weakly.
The corner of his mouth turned up wryly. "As it turns out, I do not much like our family either, it seems."
She had never heard her
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