Something shifted in his dark eyes—a recognition, perhaps, of being seen beyond his position. “In truth, Miss Bennet, I’m not certain anything would convince me entirely. The locket would be compelling, yet it could have been taken from Rose Cottage. Your father’s—Mr. Bennet’s testimony carries weight, yet he has reason to protect you. Mrs. Wickham’s account is compromised by her demands.”
He looked away momentarily, seeming to gather his thoughts. “There is no absolute proof to be had in such matters. Only the weight of circumstantial evidence and character testimony.”
“Are you saying my quest is hopeless?”
His eyes returned to hers, surprisingly gentle. “If you are indeed Elizabeth Rose Darcy, then you have suffered an immeasurable loss—parents who by all accounts would have cherished you, a birthright that was your due. I hope that loss was mitigated by the love of the Bennets. Were they kind to you? Did you find happiness at Longbourn?”
The unexpected tenderness in his question caught Elizabeth off guard. It was not the legal consideration of the master of Pemberley, but the human concern of a man who understood loss.
Elizabeth swallowed, her throat suddenly thick. “My father called me his favorite daughter, but my mother was annoyed with me. Said I had a stubborn streak unlike my sisters. My sisters love me, but don’t you believe I still have a right to my heritage? If I’m truly a Darcy?”
“Yes, I could not deny that to you,” Darcy admitted. “Although the courts might differ. Even though we might never get to the truth, we can still seek answers.”
Elizabeth nodded, accepting the honesty of his response. His unexpected kindness made her want to take his hand and accept his protection. Feeling out of sorts and unable to meet his gaze, she glanced out at the misty grounds, where sunlight was beginning to break through the clouds.
“I should like to visit the cemetery to see their graves. I’ve neverhad the chance to… to know them, even in that small way.” The vulnerability in her voice surprised her almost as much as the gentle understanding in Darcy’s expression as he offered his arm.
“The family plot is on the eastern slope, overlooking the valley. If you wish to go, I will accompany you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
GRAVESIDE PACT
Darcy walkedwith Elizabeth on one arm and Georgiana on his other arm. They departed through the north entrance, following the gravel path that wound through carefully tended gardens already touched by autumn’s hand. He had not visited the family cemetery since his father’s funeral. Guilt crowded over him at how he’d neglected his mother’s grave, but he’d been saddled by the responsibility of both Pemberley and Georgiana’s guardianship. At least that was his miserable excuse.
Now he was leading Elizabeth Bennet—or Elizabeth Rose Darcy, his conscience whispered traitorously to the very graves that could show her identity, her inheritance, and her entire life’s foundation. They walked underneath bare oak branches, their steps crunching on dried leaves. A crow called—three harsh notes that echoed and faded.
John Darcy’s monument stood slightly apart from the others, as if in death maintaining the independence that had characterized his life. It was not the largest memorial, nor the most ornate, but it possessed a simple dignity that Darcy found painfully appropriate. Beside it, equally modest, stood Rose Darcy’s stone.
Elizabeth made a sound—not quite a gasp, not quite a sob, but something between. Darcy stood back, granting her privacy for this first moment of acquaintance with the two people who might have been her parents.
John Henry Darcy
Beloved Son and Husband
1750-1791
“His Honor Was His Guide”
Rose Bennet Darcy
Beloved Wife and Mother
1765-1791
“Her Love Lit Every Room”
And between them, a smaller stone that made Elizabeth drop to her knees:
Elizabeth Rose Darcy
Beloved Daughter
1790-1791
“Too Precious for Earth”
Elizabeth wept silently, her figure bent over the markers. Georgiana stood to the side, wringing her hands and staring at the dried leaves at her toes. Tears spilled down her cheeks, but she made no motion to wipe them.
