“Miss Bennet,” Lady Eleanor said gently, “perhaps you would care to refresh yourself after your walk? The morning has proved… eventful.”
Elizabeth recognized the diplomatic suggestion for what it was—an opportunity to withdraw gracefully after the distressing scene. She nodded and ran her hand over her forehead where her curls had loosened from their pins. If she hadn’t spread rumors implicating Collins, that toad, then who did?
“I apologize, Lady Eleanor,” Elizabeth pushed herself from the settee, “that you had to witness my father’s cousin’s theatrics. His appearance today was surprising. I would be the last person to spread vicious lies about him, and I can assure you, although I don’t suppose I need to, that man would be the last person I would ever endure a conversation with, much less…”
She dropped off, glancing at Darcy whose demeanor had darkened to a fierce scowl. Not for the first time did she wonder whether Darcy had corresponded with his aunt Catherine about Collins.
As she moved to the drawing room door, Darcy moved to her side. “I believe, Miss Bennet, that you and I have matters to discuss.”
The request was politely phrased, but Elizabeth recognized the underlying command. She inclined her head with as much dignity as she could muster. “As you wish, Mr. Darcy.”
Lady Eleanor’s sharp eyes moved between them. “Fitzwilliam, perhaps this conversation might be better postponed until?—”
“No, Aunt Eleanor,” Darcy replied with quiet finality. “I believe the time for postponement has passed.”
“Very well,” Lady Eleanor rose with her customary grace. “I believe I shall speak with Mrs. Honywood about dinner arrangements. The day has been quite eventful already, and we must ensure proper nourishment for recovery.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
THE RING OF TRUTH
Elizabeth waitedfor Darcy to speak, unable to meet his gaze. She had almost followed Lady Eleanor from the drawing room. Collins’s insinuations had left her both furious and despondent, worried that Lady Eleanor’s opinion of her might change. All she wanted was to find William and hold him tight. To protect her son from the harmful implications that shadowed his innocent young life.
“Miss Bennet.” Darcy’s voice was surprisingly gentle. “Elizabeth. I must apologize for subjecting you to that unpleasant scene. Had I known Collins would be so… offensive… I would have refused him admittance.”
Elizabeth looked up, startled by both his use of her Christian name and the sincerity in his tone. “You need not apologize, Mr. Darcy. Mr. Collins’s behavior is his responsibility, not yours.”
“Nevertheless, his appearance has clearly distressed you.” Darcy moved from the fireplace to sit opposite her, his movements careful and deliberate, as if approaching a woodland creature that might startle at any sudden gesture. “I wish to assure you that I place no credence in his accusations.”
“Yet, I wonder, sir, why he seemed most insistent in gaining youragreement.” She noticed his shoulders tighten as he shifted his posture.
“Collins’s accusations aside—and I give them little credence—the fact remains that your situation here at Bellfield is irregular.” Darcy began pacing before the fireplace, his movements betraying an agitation he was clearly struggling to contain. “Perhaps now is an appropriate moment to address your condition.”
Elizabeth’s heart began to beat a rapid tattoo against her ribs. His words suggested she suffered from an incurable malady.
She strengthened herself. “Yes, Mr. Darcy?”
“I must admit,” he began, his hands clasped together as if to prevent some impulsive movement. “When I first arrived, I confess I regarded your presence here with some confusion and, I must admit, suspicion.”
“Perfectly understandable,” Elizabeth murmured, though her throat had gone dry, recalling how he had believed her to be Mrs. Pullen.
“But as we have become better acquainted, I have found myself increasingly drawn to your company. Your intelligence, your wit, your remarkable dignity in circumstances that would break a lesser woman…” He paused, his gaze dropping briefly to his hands before returning to her face. “In short, Elizabeth, I find myself unable to imagine Bellfield—or Pemberley—without your presence.”
The direction of his speech was unmistakable now, and Elizabeth felt a curious detachment descend over her, as if she were observing the scene from a distance rather than participating in it. This was not how she had imagined their reconciliation—not with Darcy still ignorant of their true connection, still believing her a fallen woman in need of rescue.
“I am aware,” Darcy continued, his voice gaining confidence as he believed her silence was assent, “that conventional society would regard an attachment between us as… inappropriate. But I find that such considerations weigh less heavily upon me than they once did.”
“How incredibly progressive of you.” Her voice remained level. “And what, pray tell, are the considerations that since lightened the load you shouldered?”
“I’m referring to your… son.” His expression softened. “William is a remarkable child. Intelligent, spirited, with natural qualities that any man would be proud to nurture. I have grown exceedingly fond of him.”
“Have you indeed?”
“I have,” Darcy confirmed, missing the sharp edge in her tone. “In fact, I have been considering a formal wardship arrangement that would secure his future. With the proper education and guidance, there is no reason he could not take his place in society as a gentleman, despite the… irregularity… of his birth.”
Each word fell like a stone into the pool of Elizabeth’s soul. “How very generous of you, Mr. Darcy.”
“Not generosity,” he corrected quickly. “It would be my privilege to provide for William’s future. And for yours as well, Elizabeth.”
