Another small astonishment made me gasp, for I had not realized until that moment that I did not envy her in the least. She was perfectly welcome to winsome George Darcy. I, for one, had altered materially in seven years, for I preferred steady, sincere Fitzwilliam. Fitzwilliam Darcy, who could steal my breath with a mere glance.
I stood facing Lord Belmont, sensing Jane and Mr. Bingley hovering just behind me. Across the room, Uncle Gardiner observed silently. Squaring my shoulders, I turned my attention fully to the imposing nobleman studying me intently.
Lord Belmont chuckled when I met his eye and refused to flinch. “You are very like her,” he murmured.
I stirred, glancing uncomfortably toward Lady Belmont. She would surely object to my presence if I were indeed the by-blow of her husband’s former mistress! But I could not alter my parentage, so I lifted my chin, grateful for Fitzwilliam’s steady presence beside me.
“Please, my lord, say plainly what you came here to reveal,” I invited.
Lord Belmont grew solemn, gesturing to where Fitzwilliam stood staunchly at my side. “I see you are not without some… imprudent attachments of your own. You believe, then, in the power of love?” he asked gravely.
I narrowed my eyes in confusion. “I do not take your meaning, sir.”
Lord Belmont exchanged a speaking look with his wife. She lowered her gaze and gave a slight nod. Drawing breath as if steeling himself, he continued.
“I married hastily in my youth—rashly, some would say, for she was far beneath my station. Her family were mere gentleman farmers. Mine threatened disinheritance.” He gave a rueful laugh. “But I loved her beyond reason or denial, and she loved me not for my station but for myself. That proves a heady wine for any young man to intoxicate himself on.” He gave a short chuckle, his eyes flicking to Fitzwilliam first and then George. They both stiffened, but then Lord Belmont fixed his gaze again on me.
“But Society is not so forgiving. Nor is a family whose heads have been swelled by too much consequence.” He shook his head. “Fortune made me the sole heir to carry on the title, helping reconcile them eventually. If it was to be she, by law and by God, to serve that office, then they had to accept her.” He paused to touch his eye, fighting a wistful smile. “I thought no man could be happier than I. I had everything. Fortune, circumstances, and the sort of wife every man dreams of calling his own. Beautiful, merry, clever... she made my days joyful and carefree. She was called Elizabeth Walton.”
Thirty-Three
Elizabeth
Iblinkedrapidly,strugglingto connect astonishing revelations to myself. My lips parted, but no words emerged.
“Aye, you have her look about you!” Belmont’s throat worked, and he bit his lip to draw a sharp breath. “Indeed, I was a blessed man. But my joy dimmed when Elizabeth lost our son at birth. For two days, she struggled to bring him forth, and when she was delivered of him, the doctors said he had died only hours before. She nearly perished, too. I had the best surgeon in the country to attend her, and a host of midwives, but it was not enough to save…” His voice broke, and he fought to still his quivering mouth. “They said she could never bear children at all after that.”
He passed a hand over his eyes at painful memories. “As my father's sole heir, an earl at my birth and a marquess in waiting, siring a child was paramount. But Lizzy loved me—foolishly and unreasonably so. And for my good, not her own, she begged me to put her away quietly, rather than have society scorn her barrenness and decry me as the last of my line.”
I blinked rapidly, struggling to reconcile such astonishing disclosures. Surely, he could not mean...?
Lord Belmont grimaced. “I refused at first. We even plotted to pass off an orphan babe as our own. But word of the unsuccessful birth and her supposed ‘delicate health’ had already reached my family. No one would credit a ‘miracle’ child after that.”
He searched my face intently. “For Lizzy’s sake, and after holding her in my arms as she wept and pleaded with me to release her, I reluctantly announced her ‘passing of fever’ shortly after. In truth, I secured her the estate called South Gate, where she could live peacefully, far away from me, in Berkshire, and the scornful eyes of theton. We wrote to each other often, but I did not see her dear face again… for five years.”
I swayed slightly. The room blurred as revelations took shape. South Gate was mine… which meant...
Lord Belmont regarded me sorrowfully. “After a decent mourning, I made the more prudent match my family dictated. But it broke my soul to leave my heart buried here with my Lizzy.”
I trembled, scarce able to draw breath. The impossible had found voice at last. As I struggled for a coherent response, a polite cough interrupted us. We both turned to behold Lady Belmont regarding us steadily through inscrutable eyes.
Lord Belmont managed a tremulous smile, extending his hand to Lady Belmont. “I confess, I was not kind to you early on, still outraged at losing my heart’s delight.” Their eyes met, his softening fondly. “But you slowly taught this stubborn fool to love again, my dear.” His face clouded. “Yet not before I committed a grave wrong I shall ever regret.”
I hesitated, but he seemed to be inviting me to make some comment, so I did. "And that was?" I asked softly.
He regarded his son and daughter somberly. “Though the Almighty granted me the children I craved, resentment long festered that fate denied their rightful mother. In a rage of injustice, I rode to Derbyshire, seeking solace from the only one who shared my loss.”
Lady Belmont patted his hand comfortingly as he continued hoarsely. “I never dreamed my Lizzy could again conceive. We were wrong. When she perished birthing our daughter, my world shattered anew under the weight of bitter remorse.” He passed a shaking hand over his eyes. “Her death lies on my head alone.”
I stared, horrified comprehension taking shape as I read dawning distress in Fitzwilliam’s taut features. I was the living proof of Lord Belmont’s criminal betrayal!
“Then you admit to bigamy!” I burst out. “Your children were born before your lawful wife was deceased. By law, my very birth condemns and disinherits your legitimate heirs!”
Lord Winston and Lady Lucilla exchanged stricken looks while Fitzwilliam grasped my hand tightly.
Lord Belmont attempted a conciliatory smile. “You speak justly. I could not openly claim you without condemning my legitimate heirs. So, I entrusted you to the Darcys’ care, never dreaming what risks loomed ahead.”
“Why?” Fitzwilliam broke in. “Why my father?”
