Her eyes twinkled as she looked at him. “You must not encourage them too much. Mr Fitzwilliam will be sore for days.”
“He deserves it,” Darcy said with dry affection. “He always insisted on playing the hero.”
“Tommy will remember this for the rest of his life,” Elizabeth murmured.
Darcy looked at her and saw more than just fondness in her expression. He saw pride… and fierce protectiveness. Whatever the truth of the boy’s origins, Elizabeth loved him deeply. That fact alone made Darcy love her all the more.
Soon after, Miss Lane called Tommy for his lessons, and the battle came to an end. As the child was led away, Darcy glanced once more at his retreating figure. The question remained unspoken but burned ever hotter in his mind: who was Tommy, truly?
But for now, he turned back to Elizabeth and offered his arm. “May I trouble you for a walk around the gardens?”
She hesitated, then nodded. “If you promise not to let Mr Fitzwilliam turn it into a campaign.”
As they stepped outside, the crisp air hit his lungs, and he felt, for the first time that day, a strange sensation of hope.
Whatever secrets Longbourn might be keeping, they would face them together.
Later, Darcy stood in the Netherfield library, watching through the mullioned window as the last hints of light faded behind the trees. The battlereenactment between Richard and Tommy had left him shaken in a way he had not expected. The resemblance—clearer than ever—had gripped him with a mix of unease and an almost paternal longing. Tommy had Richard’s eyes, Anne’s delicate mouth, and some indefinable quality that was distinctly Fitzwilliam. There was no denying it now.
Behind him, the door clicked shut. Richard entered, dusting a bit of lint from his sleeve. “He trounced me, you know,” he said with a mock scowl, dropping onto the settee with a tired groan. “Tommy, that is. A formidable little general. I fear I shall be limping for days.”
Darcy turned, arms folded, his expression unreadable. “You saw it.”
Richard’s jesting manner sobered in an instant. “I did. Heaven help me, Will, I saw it the moment he looked up at me with that serious little face. It was like seeing myself years ago. I mean, I suspected when we saw him from a distance, but to see him closely? Unbelievable.”
Darcy exhaled slowly and took the seat opposite his cousin. “So it must be true.”
Richard nodded grimly. “There is Fitzwilliam in him. That much is certain. But now I find myself wondering—have we been wrong in assuming Anne?”
Darcy’s brow furrowed. “You think it could be someone else?”
“Think about it.” Richard leaned forwards, elbows on knees. “We all assumed Anne because of her disappearance. The timing… her seclusion. The maid’s cryptic comments. And the fact that we have not been able to locate her since. But Will… what if she did not die in childbirth, as I assume you suspect? What if she was not pregnant at all?”
Darcy frowned, reluctant but listening.
“What if someone else had a child? Or worse—what if someonewantedto hide the true mother’s identity and to hide a scandal?”
Darcy shook his head. “It is a possibility,” he said quietly. “But whoever the mother is, I am more and more certain it is not Elizabeth.”
Richard looked at him sharply. “Are you sure? She certainly behaves as if the boy is hers.”
“She would have been fifteen at the time,” Darcy said, voice low. “It does not fit. She would not have been out in London society, so it seems unlikely that your brother or—heaven forbid—your father is to blame. You swore it was not you. And her manner with the boy is not that of a woman who carried and birthed him. She loves him—yes. Fiercely. But like a sister. Or perhaps even a mother-figure who stepped in to save a child who was otherwise doomed. Not one who bore him in shame.”
Richard sighed and leaned back into the cushions. “So we are back to the beginning. We have a Fitzwilliam child—doubtless born of Anne.”
Silence settled between them.
After a moment, Richard said, “We have more questions than answers.”
Darcy nodded. “But at least now we know the child is a Fitzwilliam. That means wemustdiscover the full truth.”
Richard gave a dry laugh. “Lady Catherine will be apoplectic. Can we even predict how she will respond?”
Darcy gave a faint smile. “No, which is why we must proceed with care. If Elizabeth has protected that child all this time, then she deserves our protection in return.”
Richard’s expression softened. “She is not what I expected her to be. She is clever, compassionate, and steady. You have chosen well, Will.”
“I have chosen someone I cannot imagine life without,” Darcy admitted. “And if this secret threatens her, I will stand between her and it—whatever it is.”
