Page 3 of Cousin Conundrum

“What did I say about the de Bourgh name?”

Clamping his mouth closed, Darcy drew in a slow breath, then tried, “Very well. I will hire more Runners and no offer of a reward will be published in the papers. Now, if that is all, I will return to Darcy House and begin making arrangements.”

“Nonsense. Now that our business is concluded, you will remain for tea. Let it not be said that my hospitality is lacking.” Lady Catherine reached to ring a bell. “Anne will serve. She is such an adept hostess, do you not think? She will do well as mistress of Pemberley.”

Resignedly, Darcy sat back on the settee.

Tea proved less arduous than he’d feared, with Anne rallying to discuss novels, none of which Lady Catherine appeared to have read. Darcy didn’t know if his aunt read little these days, or if Anne kept track and deliberately chose books about which her mother couldn’t speak, but he was grateful. Anne likely would be a perfectly adept mistress of Pemberley. It was almost a shame they held nothing more than cousinly regard for one another.

Almost.

Departing as soon as Lady Catherine allowed, Darcy turned his mount not in the direction of Darcy House, but the residence of Mr. Steven Hurst. Not that Hurst, a perfectly inoffensive fellow, was Darcy’s aim. He sought Charles Bingley, Hurst’s brother-by-marriage and house guest.

At the Hursts’ small but tidy dwelling in a respectable enough part of town, Darcy was directed onward to his club, where he found Bingley at cards. He supposed he should have sought Bingley there first, knowing he possessed a sociable nature.

Unlike Darcy, who refused an offer to join the game. Instead, he took a nearby table to wait, then waved away a footman who approached to offer brandy.

The game continued amiably, with a fair amount of ruckus and increasingly ridiculous wagers, until a winner emerged. Bingley paid up along with the others, and with far more cheer than some. The cards were collected for a shuffle amidst mild grumbling.

“Bingley, a word,” Darcy called before fresh hands could be dealt.

Bingley looked over with a nod.

“Ah, come now, Bingley. One more round,” one of the other men called.

“You have a few more pounds on you, I daresay, Bingley,” added another.

Bingley chuckled. “I am afraid you must find someone else to fleece. More serious conversation awaits.” Scooping up his tumbler, he joined Darcy.

“Good game?” Darcy asked as Bingley’s former tablemates turned their heckling to a gentleman across the room, extolling him to join them.

“I lost less than usual.”

Darcy shook his head, but it wasn’t his place to lecture Bingley on such habits. He would take a wife eventually. Let her harp on him. “May I be to the point? I have already spent a somewhat trying hour with my aunt this afternoon.”

“By all means.” Bingley waved to a footman, gesturing to his nearly empty glass. “What has brought you here to save me from losing more at cards today?”

“You were considering taking a country estate over the Yuletide. I believe, when last we reviewed the property listings your man gathered for you, we narrowed your choices to three?”

“One. Hurst helped me eliminate two more. He is awfully good at unraveling the talk of the leasing agents.”

“Unraveling the talk?”

Bingley nodded, holding out his tumbler for the footman to fill. “Yes. Such as, ‘A lovely medieval bath adjacent to the stable,’ means there is nowhere to bathe indoors, unless I want to have a tub hauled from London.”

Darcy nodded. “Many of England’s country estates are still rather rustic.”

“Did you wish to see the listings again? The three I showed Hurst were the three you had not yet eliminated.”

“No. I came in the hope of persuading you to take a property sooner, and then to invite me to join you. I feel the need to get away from London for a time.”

“Happy to oblige, but you do recall that you have your own country estate? Quite the place, too, if I may say. Caroline has not stopped speaking of Pemberley since we visited last June.”

“I am well aware that I possess an estate,” Darcy said dryly. “I require the excuse of being your house guest to avoid becoming my aunt’s house guest.” He also had no intention of providing his aunt with his forwarding address. Let her write to him in London and Pemberley. He would receive her letters eventually.

“On about you marrying that cousin of yours again, is she?”

“Quite so.”