“Yes, there was a lady involved.” Darcy sighed. Richard would not be dissuaded if he scented a female at the bottom of a coil. He would have to give his cousin more. “My friend very nearly put himself in the position of being required to offer for a young woman of exceedingly unfortunate situation and family.”

“Oh,” Fitzwilliam responded thoughtfully, “that is trouble indeed.” He paused and looked out the window as the coach shuddered over a rill in the road, then turned back to Darcy with a gleam in his eye. “But come, old man, was she beautiful?”

Darcy looked askance at his cousin. “Beautiful! Richard, can you think of aught else save if she was beautiful?” Fitzwilliam threw him a devilish grin and shrugged his shoulders. “Yes,” Darcy said, exasperation evident in his tone, “if you must have it, she was a well-favored creature and sweet tempered, withal; but I swear she does not love him — leastways not near as much as his prospects.” He tugged at his gloves, smoothing each in turn before delivering the coup de grâce. “Be that as it may, it was her family, not to mention a lack of fortune, to which every objection was raised.”

“A man could suffer the family from a distance, surely, if the lady were otherwise desirable and fortune no impediment.”

“Perhaps it could be overlooked,” Darcy agreed hesitantly, “if it were proved that the lady was devoted to the gentleman. Such is not the case. I assure you, much more proof than was apparent would be required to negate the inconveniences attendant upon forging a connection with such a family as I observed.”

“You make them sound a horror!” Fitzwilliam laughed.

“A family of reduced circumstances with any number of unmarried daughters allowed unbridled freedom to roam the countryside, impertinent as you please.” He ticked off the points in a litany with which he had become quite familiar. “A father who will not be troubled to rule his family and a mother who looks on any new pair of breeches in the neighborhood as the property of one or other of her offspring.”