“I’m sure it has nothing to do with you,” Elizabeth tried to reassure her, but it may have, she had to own, only because Miss Darcy did not know his secrets, and he could not be open with her. “He is dealing with other things, and he wishes to be alone, that is all.”
Miss Darcy fought tears the entire time, however, and then, when they returned to Barralds, she fled and her brother muttered apologies and went after her.
Elizabeth found herself alone and reeling.
She supposed she would go and seek the rest of the company, who must be in the gardens as usual. However, before she could do so, she was suddenly aware of a sensation that could only mean one thing, and she wondered at herself for having entirely lost track of her cycle so as to be surprised by it.
She went to her bedchamber and confirmed that her bleeding had come. She was relieved, she found. She could have been with child, she knew, with her husband’s child. He had been rather diligent on their wedding night, after all. But she hadnot thought much about that, likely due to the fact that she had far too much to think about otherwise.
She ran for her maid to change out of her soiled under layers and to get some rags to use and while all this was happening, there was a knock on her door, and it was the same servant as before, the one who had come in the middle of the night to fetch her to the duke.
This time, the servant wished her to know the duke was waiting for her in the place where they met up for their walks.
Once she had herself back in order, she went out to meet him.
He was waiting in the midst of the pathway, staring at his shoes, quite despondent.
“Your Grace!” she called as she saw him.
He looked up, his expression quite bitter. “No, don’t call me that.”
She hurried over to him. “I suppose your grandmother surmised it all and told you of it? I would have thought she might have kept it from you, truly.”
“I think she would have if she could go back,” he said. “She was very shocked and pained by the truth of it.”
“You must be devastated,” she said. “I know how I felt when I learned I was illegitimate.”
“Turns out you’re not,” he said bitterly.
“Well, it doesn’t matter,” she said. “Because I might as well be at this point.”
He tilted his head to one side to look her over. “You blame me for that?”
“How could I blame you?” she said. “You are a victim in this as much as I am, as much as everyone is. It is your father—my father, I suppose—who is the true villain. He put all of this wretchedness into motion.” She considered. “Although, I understand your grandfather—”
“Never met him. He was dead before I was born,” said Neithern. “And he’syourgrandfather.”
“No one will ever know this, however,” said Elizabeth, shaking her head. “You must find some way to move past it.” But even as she said it, she knew she sounded like her own family members, Jane and her father Mr. Bennet when they had begged her to set it aside and move forward and when she could not. She sighed heavily. “I suppose you cannot move past it, though.”
“I need to know who my real mother was,” said Neithern. “And you know who I think knows?”
“Well, perhaps Larilane,” said Elizabeth. “He did say she was a strumpet, and that she didn’t know who your father was, and that—”
“No,” said Neithern. “Though who is Larilane, anyway?”
“The Vicomte de Larilane,” said Elizabeth. “He is the one who procured you and deceived your grandmother to thinking you were her grandson.”
“Ah,” said Neithern. “Well, perhaps he knows. But I think Houseman does.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “Oh, my.”
Neithern nodded. “Yes, just a strange coincidence that a man who looks just like me has this house built here, right next to Neith Abbey? No, he knows something about my mother, about where I come from. It is only that I don’t know how to speak to him about it. I have never been invited to Barralds, you see. He has never called upon us.”
“Truly?” said Elizabeth.
“Yes, we’ve been introduced, of course, but he avoids me and my family. When I came uninvited the other day, I wondered if he would be angry, but instead, he simply avoided me. Once or twice I saw him, and whenever I did, he would run away, as if he did not wish to see or speak to me.”
“But he will come to your ball,” said Elizabeth. “It is part of why being here for the summer is so attractive, after all, your midsummer fete. Everyone has come here so that we may attend it.”
