“You misunderstand me entirely, Mr. Darcy,” she replied, selecting a piece of toast. “I find excitementrather invigorating.”
The faintest hint of color touched his cheeks, and Elizabeth felt satisfaction at having discomposed him so easily.
“What delightful plans occupy our day?” Caroline inquired. “The rain appears to have settled in, ruling out our proposed excursion to the lake.”
“Miss Bennet and I have business matters to discuss,” Darcy stated. “Family matters.”
Caroline’s smile tightened. “Of course. How tedious for you both.” She turned to Georgiana. “Perhaps you might join Louisa and me in the drawing room later? We could review the guest list for All Hallows’ Eve.”
“Actually,” Elizabeth interjected before Georgiana could respond, “Miss Darcy has kindly agreed to serve as our chaperone today. As Mr. Darcy’s sister, she is the most appropriate companion for our discussions of family history.”
Darcy’s cup froze halfway to his lips, his eyes narrowing as he processed this neat circumvention of his directive. Elizabeth maintained an expression of perfect innocence.
“Indeed,” he said after a pause that stretched just long enough to convey his awareness of her strategy. “Georgiana’s presence would be… appropriate.”
“How thoughtful of you both to include dear Georgiana,” Caroline said stiffly. “Though surely a more experienced chaperone might be preferable? Mrs. Hurst would be delighted to assist.”
“I believe a member of the Darcy family is most suitable for discussions of Darcy family matters,” Elizabeth replied smoothly. “Don’t you agree, Mr. Darcy?”
Trapped by his own rules of propriety and Elizabeth’s careful maneuvering, Darcy inclined his head. “My sister’s presence will suffice.”
“That’s settled then,” she announced brightly. “Perhaps after we’ve broken our fast, we might compare notes on what we’ve each discovered? I have documents you must review.”
Darcy’s dark eyes fixed on her with sudden intensity. “Documents?”
“The parish records from Kympton, among other things.” Elizabeth allowed a mysterious smile to play about her lips. “I was quite thorough in my research while accompanied by Mrs. Wickham.”
“Were you indeed?” His tone was dry as his brows furrowed at the mention of his nemesis. “Then we have much to discuss.”
Victory secured, Elizabeth turned her attention to her breakfast, though she felt Darcy’s gaze lingering on her.
After the meal concluded, Darcy led them to a small study adjoining the library—a comfortable room with deep leather chairs arranged around a fireplace where a cheerful blaze combated the day’s chill.
“This was my father’s private study,” he explained, closing the door once Georgiana had entered. “We are unlikely to be disturbed here.”
Elizabeth took in the masculine furnishings, the shelves of leather-bound books, and the large desk positioned to catch the morning light. “Your father spent many hours here?”
“Yes.” Something in Darcy’s tone made her look at him more closely. “It was here he warned me never to trust a Bennet.”
The blunt statement hung in the air between them. Georgiana gasped softly, but Elizabeth merely nodded, appreciating his directness.
“When?” she asked quietly.
“He had his deathbed moved into this room. His last coherent words to me.” Darcy moved to the window, gazing out at the rain-washed grounds. “For years, I’ve carried that warning without understanding its meaning.”
“Until you met me at the Meryton assembly.”
He turned, his expression inscrutable. “Yes.”
“And now you believe I might be a Darcy, not a Bennet.” Elizabeth stepped closer, challenging him with her directness.
“I’m not yet convinced.” He gestured to the chairs. “Shall we compare our discoveries? Perhaps together we might make sense of this tangle.”
It was a peace offering of sorts. At least they both sought the truth. She settled into one of the leather chairs, arranging her skirts with deliberate care while Darcy took the seat opposite. Georgiana perched on a window seat nearby, close enough to hear yet granting a measure of privacy.
“This is my evidence,” Elizabeth said, opening her reticule.
She withdrew the parish records first—copies of her parents’ marriage certificate and her baptismal record, carefully transcribed by the vicar of Kympton. Darcy accepted them with evident interest, his gaze passing over the familiar names: John Henry Darcy and Rose Bennet Darcy. Elizabeth Rose Darcy, baptized November 9th, 1790.
