“Don’t know what to believe. Strange doings back then, but near the end of his life, your father put an end to the irregular carriage departures.”
“I see.” A fresh wave of unease washed through him.
“Such a sweet baby she was.” Hodge’s eyes took a faraway look. “Like a changeling—always laughing and reaching for whatever caught her fancy.”
Elizabeth Bennet possessed that same quality of reaching for what interested her, whether ideas, conversations, or challenges that others might avoid. He reminded himself, though, that even if ElizabethRose Darcy lived, it did not follow that Elizabeth Rose Bennet was that child. The baby’s body could have been taken away by a wild dog or perhaps buried by the debris. Servants entertained themselves by telling outlandish tales, no doubt.
Darcy hitched his horse in Lambton and proceeded to Blythewood’s office. The solicitor served his grandparents, uncle, father, and now himself as a Darcy. If Elizabeth proved to be who she claimed, Blythewood’s loyalty would extend to her as well.
“Mr. Darcy.” Blythewood rose behind his desk, “I’ve pulled the documents you requested. The family settlements, the entail provisions, and the additions made during your grandfather’s final illness.”
“Additions?” Darcy repeated, focusing on this critical detail. “You mean the fee tail female was not part of the original settlement?”
“Indeed not.” Blythewood adjusted his spectacles. “The original document, drafted in 1772, established the standard male-line inheritance through the eldest son—your uncle John, and then to his male issue, with your father as secondary heir should the primary line fail.”
“And the amendment?”
“Added in 1790, just months before the fire.” Blythewood’s tone conveyed his professional assessment of this timing. “The addition specifically names ‘any child, male or female, born to John Darcy’ as rightful heir, superseding the secondary line.”
Darcy absorbed this with growing disquiet. “And this addition—it is legally binding?”
“That,” Blythewood said carefully, “would be a matter of considerable debate, should it ever reach the courts. The irregular circumstances of its creation present several avenues for challenge.”
“Such as?”
“Your grandfather’s mental competence at the time, for one. Hesuffered an apoplectic fit in early 1789 that left him significantly weakened. Such conditions frequently impair judgment and increase susceptibility to external influence.”
“External influence,” Darcy repeated. “You mean my aunt, Rose Bennet Darcy.”
“By all accounts, your grandmother was equally enamored with your aunt. Mrs. Rose Darcy apparently spent many hours reading to them both, playing the pianoforte, and singing. Providing comfort during a difficult time.” Blythewood’s tone suggested he found such activities suspiciously calculated. “When a child was born the following year—a daughter, no less—both grandparents were reportedly besotted with the infant.”
“Elizabeth Rose,” Darcy murmured, the name feeling strange on his lips.
“Indeed. They refused to accept reports of her death. Insisted that arrangements for her inheritance be maintained despite all evidence that she had perished in the fire.”
Darcy paced the confines of the office, his mind racing. “And now a young woman appears, claiming to be that same child, twenty years later. What legal standing would such a claim have?”
Blythewood considered for a moment. “Without substantial evidence, very little. She would need to prove not only her identity as the daughter of John and Rose Darcy, but also demonstrate that the fee tail female addition was valid despite the circumstances of its creation. Both present considerable hurdles.”
“In your professional opinion, could this amendment be successfully challenged?”
“Certainly. The circumstances of its creation provide multiple grounds for appeal—diminished mental capacity, undue influence, irregular procedure. There were those who suggested that Mrs. Darcy’s influence over the family’s legal arrangements was inappropriate and mercenary. Moreover, the current situation strengthens your position considerably.”
“How so?”
“Miss Bennet’s association with Martha Wickham severely undermines any credibility she might claim. Mrs. Wickham’s original testimony stated unequivocally that all three family members perished in the fire. Her current claims directly contradict her previous sworn statements.” Blythewood leaned forward with the satisfaction of a man delivering decisive intelligence. “No court would accept the testimony of a witness who has perjured herself so blatantly.”
“Yet Mrs. Wickham might argue that she lied originally to protect the child.”
“An explanation that cannot be verified. Moreover, what credible evidence exists that Miss Bennet is indeed Elizabeth Rose Darcy? Family resemblance proves nothing—she is acknowledged to be Rose Bennet’s niece, which would account for any similarity of features.”
“Her father, Mr. Bennet, could still testify,” Darcy noted, trying to find relief as Elizabeth’s vulnerabilities were exposed.
“He is not a disinterested party. The burden of proof lies on her shoulders and would have to be extraordinarily compelling to overcome the presumption in favor of the current possessor.” Blythewood’s expression softened slightly. “Mr. Darcy, I have served your family for many years. It is my professional opinion that Miss Bennet’s claim, whatever its basis in fact, could be effectively challenged through legal means if necessary.”
“What course of action do you recommend?”
“Treat Miss Bennet as the imposter she undoubtedly is. Refuse to acknowledge any claim to the estate, and force her to pursue legal remedies that will exhaust whatever resources she possesses. Most importantly, do not allow sentiment or misplaced sympathy to compromise your family’s interests.”
