“A sentiment you have expressed before,” he replied, allowing a hint of dry humor to creep into his voice.
Something shifted in Elizabeth’s expression— a recognition that the situation was more complex than either of them had initially understood.
She turned toward Georgiana with renewed warmth. “Miss Darcy, I apologize for disrupting your household with these complications. It was never my intention to cause distress to innocent parties.”
“Oh, please don’t apologize,” Georgiana said earnestly. “If you truly are our cousin, then you belong at Pemberley as much as we do. And if someone harmed your parents—our family—then they should face justice, whoever they may be.”
The simple sincerity of Georgiana’s response created a moment of silence. Even Caroline Bingley seemed at a loss for words in theface of such straightforward morality. Darcy felt a swell of pride in his sister’s character, even as he noted how Elizabeth’s expression softened at Georgiana’s generous spirit.
“Well said, Miss Darcy,” Bingley declared, his smile returning. “Justice should be our primary concern. If our fathers were innocent of wrongdoing, as I firmly believe, then we should welcome any investigation that would clear their names.”
“And if they were not?” Elizabeth asked quietly.
The question hung in the air like a thundercloud. Darcy met her gaze directly, searching for any hint of calculation or deception. He found only earnest concern, which softened his suspicions somewhat.
“Then we would face that truth, however painful,” he said. “I cannot believe my father is capable of murder. There must be another explanation for Mrs. Wickham’s accusations.”
“I agree,” Bingley said firmly. “My father had his faults, but murder was not among them. There is more to this story than Mrs. Wickham has revealed.”
“Then perhaps,” Elizabeth suggested, “our first task should be to discover what truly happened that night, rather than focusing solely on questions of inheritance.”
Darcy found himself nodding in agreement before he had fully processed the implications. The suggestion was sound and offered a path forward that didn’t require immediate resolution of Elizabeth’s identity.
“Justice must take precedence over property claims,” he agreed. “We need to establish the truth about that night, whatever it might reveal.”
“What a noble sentiment,” Caroline observed with barely concealed sarcasm. “Though I wonder how much cooperation we can expect when Miss Bennet clearly holds unfavorable opinions of certain parties.”
Elizabeth’s chin lifted. “Miss Bingley, my personal feelings areirrelevant to the pursuit of justice. I seek only the truth, whatever that might cost any of us.”
“I appreciate that sense of justice.” Darcy found himself studying Elizabeth’s face, searching for signs of softening in her regard. “Whether you are my cousin or not, consider yourself a guest until you return to your family.”
Elizabeth inclined her head with grace, and Darcy felt an unexpected warmth at her acknowledgment. What did it matter whether this woman held any regard for him? Yet somehow, it did matter—more than he cared to examine too closely.
“Which brings us to practical considerations,” Bingley interjected, his tone returning to its usual enthusiasm. “We have ten days until the All Hallows’ Eve assembly Caroline has been planning. Ten days to investigate the circumstances surrounding the fire, gather evidence, and ensure everyone’s safety.”
“Ten days,” Elizabeth mused, clearly following the same calculation. “My birthday falls on the first of November. All Hallows’ Eve would be the night before.”
“A most auspicious occasion for revelations,” Caroline said with evident satisfaction. “The veil between past and present is said to be thinnest on that night.”
“Very poetic, Caroline,” Bingley remarked with amusement. “Though I imagine solid evidence would prove more useful than supernatural assistance.”
“Either way, we’ll unmask the truth,” Georgiana said with the confidence of youth. “And ensure that Elizabeth claims her rightful place—if indeed Pemberley is hers.”
“Or not,” Darcy reminded his impressionable sister. “We’re dealing with people who have kept their secrets for twenty years. They won’t give up easily.”
“Including you, Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth asked, meeting his gaze directly.
The challenge in her eyes sent an unexpected jolt through him—not irritation, as he might have expected, but something closer toanticipation. She continued to surprise him, continued to prove more complex than his initial assumptions. The realization was both unsettling and oddly compelling.
“I have no secrets regarding this matter, Miss Bennet,” he replied. “Only a desire for truth and justice, whatever that may reveal.”
“Well then,” Elizabeth said, her tone brightening slightly, “I suppose we should begin planning. After all, we have a mystery to solve, a murderer to catch, and an inheritance to sort out. Should be a perfectly ordinary week at Pemberley.”
Georgiana looked between them with growing excitement. “This is quite the most romantic thing I have ever heard,” she declared. “Like something from a novel. A lost heiress returns to claim her birthright, only to find herself falling in love with?—”
“Georgiana,” Darcy interrupted hastily, though he felt heat rise in his collar. His sister’s romantic imagination was decidedly inconvenient, particularly when it struck so close to thoughts he was trying to avoid.
“Oh, but it is romantic,” Caroline agreed with false sweetness. “I’ve always been fascinated by stories where enemies become allies. Is that not how these tales often progress, Mr. Darcy?”
