“That is the same as my mother, I admit,” said Elizabeth. “Only she didn’t die.”
“Well, we have the same mother, but she faked her death,” said Neithern, chuckling. “Except, then, why did she keep you away from the family and give me over to them?”
“Yes, quite,” said Elizabeth. “That is why we are not twins. Anyway, we don’t look alike, I don’t think.”
He scrutinized her features. “No, not at all.”
“What was your mother’s name?” said Elizabeth.
“Ah,” said the duke, and he looked off into the distance. He began to walk. “Would you believe that I don’t know?”
“You don’t know.” Elizabeth walked with him. “Truly?”
“I am not pleased about it,” said Neithern, scuffing his foot against the path. “My grandmother, she didn’t see fit to find this out when she was taking me from my dead mother, apparently. Well, she didn’t do it herself, of course. She got word and sent someone to collect me, left money for them to bury her, and then took me away.”
“But certainly, your parents were married and your grandmother would have known it.”
“Married in secret,” said the duke.
“W-well,” said Elizabeth, coughing. “The truth is, my mother claimed that she had eloped with the duke.”
“Did she.” He turned to her sharply.
She drew back from his gaze.
“Well, what if we are twins, Mrs. Fitzwilliam?” he said. “And if we were, I would absolutely find some way to help you with your financial precariousness. You knew our mother?”
Elizabeth shook her head, holding up both of her hands. “Not well. I-I thought she was my aunt. She sent me to live with her brother and his wife, and they raised me as their own. I thought that I was a Bennet my entire life, until my aunt—my mother—died and left me a small inheritance and a house. And, truly, sir, I am not so financially precarious as all that, it is only that my husband is the penniless son of an earl, and I think he shall struggle more than me living off what I have, which is not what he is used to, and—never mind that!” She shook her head again. “Her name was Matilda Bennet, though. She was kind, and she seemed to be… I don’t know. I still cannot figure out why it is she gave me up, not truly. And if she had two babes and she sent one to live with her brother and one to be brought up as a duke, well…”
“Yes,” said Neithern. “Odd.” He glanced at her. “Let us ascertain a few other things, then. Your mother, where did she and the duke marry?”
“I don’t honestly know if they did, but my understanding is Scotland, likely Gretna Green. At least, that is what has been reported by someone who knew my mother,” said Elizabeth, because she had been told of Larilane speaking of it to Mr. Darcy yesterday.
“My parents were also married in Scotland,” said Neithern. “So, that lines up, however, it makes it materially difficult to find any proof. Had they been married somewhere in England, there would be a record in the parish registry that could be looked up.”
“Well, there is usually some kind of documentation provided in Scotland,” said Elizabeth.
“Yes, and I asked my grandmother about that, and she said that—of course—there was a marriage license, but she could not provide it for me to see. She also seemed miffed that I would even care, that it should concern me to know my mother’s name or to know basic things about her. I tried to explain it to her, but it fell on deaf ears.”
“Yes,” said Elizabeth, turning to him. “My family has been much the same. They can’t seem to understand why I won’t simply forget about it, who my father is, and why I won’t accept that they are my family. To them, even though we know the truth, it doesn’t mean anything. They are still my sister and my father and they are hurt that I seem not to find them enough anymore. But it is who I am. It is where I came from. It matters.”
“Indeed it does,” said Neithern, eyes flashing. “You are the first person I have told this to who actually understands.”
She gave him a firm nod.
He nodded back. “But with all of the things here that are the same, perhaps we can assume that we must be, in fact, twins. Well.” He laughed. “When is your birthday?”
She bit down on her bottom lip, heart rising in her chest. She told him the date.
His eyes widened. “That is not my birthday, but my birthday is the day after that.”
She tilted her head to look at him. “Well…”
“Yes,” he said. “It’s too close not to count, in my opinion. We must assume that you are, in fact, my twin.”
“I…” She licked her lips. “I feel I must tell you that we have another theory about all of this, and if it is true, we are not twins.”
“What other theory?”
