His cousin, in a dignified manner, inclined his head and placed the letter in his inner glove pocket.
“There is more I need to tell you,” Darcy said with burning entreaty. “I have settled twenty thousand pounds on Elizabeth, and as you are the executor of my will, I look to you to ensure that she receives it.”
“Darcy, you are not actually married to her! As generous a man as you are, you do not owe her such a legacy.”
“I am a man of honour. This is not a conditional recommendation. It is my explicit wish that Elizabeth receives it.” His cousin stared, disbelieving. “I cannot allow her to remain at Longbourn and be neglected by her irresponsible parents. She has a thousand pounds to her name only on her parents’ deaths and no connexions of any consideration. She is so lively, so intelligent, but if she remains in that neighbourhood, there is no doubt in my mind that she will waste away. With a fortune, she can live in town and be someone of consequence, no matter what damage Lydia has done to her reputation. I trust you to help her arrange things to her satisfaction.”
“I know you are immovable, so I will aid Miss Bennet. I must suggest to you, however painful it might be, the probability that she will not long retain the name of Bennet. With such a fortune, her family’s reputation notwithstanding, a pretty and vivacious woman like her will not remain single in London.”
It was exactly what Darcy had hoped he would say. “Yes, of that I am well aware.” After a lengthy pause and with an unwavering stare, Darcy repeated, “Elizabeth will have twenty thousand pounds, enough to attract a man with no fortune of his own.”
Fitzwilliam waited for him to continue. When he did not, it did not take his cousin much longer to comprehend Darcy’s presumption. “You cannot be in earnest!” He pulled back into his seat, trying to create more distance between himself and Darcy’s idea.
“You admire her, and she will be a very wealthy—”
“It is quite a leap from admiration to matrimony!” Fitzwilliam interrupted. “Your betrothed is diverting, but I would prefer a sweeter, milder-natured woman to be my wife. More importantly, I reserve the right to make such a choice for myself!”
“You have always said you needed to marry with consideration to fortune, and twenty thousand pounds should suit you both well.”
“I know how your mind works,” he cried, pointing at him. “I suppose the fact that I am the only man in the world who would still have her if she is carrying your child has factored into your plan? Not to mention she is no longer intact and therefore unmarriageable should the truth be known?”
“You are being needlessly crude.”
Darcy felt the awkward intensity between them as if it were a living and breathing thing. It brought Darcy no pleasure to discuss Elizabeth marrying another man. But he could not think of his own comfort at a time such as this.
“Her father will mock her and her mother will criticise her, and she deserves better than that. She will have no prospects should she remain penniless at home with one sister a jilt and the other fallen. How worse would it be should Elizabeth also be with child? The Bennets’ ruination would be complete. I am not telling you to marry her. Elizabeth would certainly not marry without affection, and I know she would resent being spoken of in this way. I am simply doing all that I can to preserve her respectability and offer her a future beyond what Longbourn has to offer.”
“You are giving me your blessing to marry your intended, to provide a name for her child if necessary? How gracious of you,” Fitzwilliam sarcastically replied as he glared.
Darcy sighed and then covered his eyes as he leant against the side of the carriage. He would have to speak plainly and admit his shortcoming. “I cannot walk onto that field and take my life into my hands without knowing she will be provided for.” He considered his moss agate sleeve buttons again rather than meet his cousin’s eye. “I could be dead before the sun is fully over the horizon, and my greatest fear is that I leave Elizabeth vulnerable.”
When in his life had he ever admitted to being afraid? The desire to put one’s affairs in order before facing death was justified, and he always took prodigious care of those he loved. Although he said his greatest fear was leaving Elizabeth to an uncertain fate, he was feeling great anxiety about his own.
“I swear to you,” Fitzwilliam said quietly, “that your sister and Miss Bennet will be provided for. I shall do what is necessary to ensure their comfort and shall protect their good names at whatever the cost.”
Darcy closed his eyes; when he opened them, he was in control of his emotions. Before he could speak, before he could further think on Georgiana and his dearest Elizabeth, Fitzwilliam brought his attention back to the present.
“A gentleman defends his honour with a cool head in a controlled manner.” He leant forward and stared at him. “You are to alight with your head held high and conduct yourself with the same discipline and respectability that you always command.”
His cousin threw open the door and stepped out, and by the time Darcy stood beside him, he once again gave every appearance of being a stern, respectable gentleman. The early morning fog was burning off, and some thirty yards away stood a man fidgeting with a bag as he stared at the river. A modest carriage was behind him, its blinds drawn against the rising sun.
“That must be Mr Lockwood.” Fitzwilliam retrieved the cherry box containing Darcy’s pistols. “Excuse me, but I shall check your weapons again.”
“I ought to greet the surgeon.”
“There is no need.” Fitzwilliam’s gaze was still on the finely crafted weapons. “The only person on this field you need to speak to is me.”
“I cannot be near the man and be silent. My approaching him would not be an impertinent freedom.”
Darcy walked over and bowed to the doctor, whose eyes darted around with worried energy as he shifted his bag. He was a frail-looking man a few years older than himself. “Forgive me for speaking to you without an introduction. I am Fitzwilliam Darcy. May I presume you are the surgeon Colonel Fitzwilliam engaged for our meeting?”
“Edgar Lockwood, sir, at your service,” he answered pleasantly with a bow. “Although I hopeyoudo not require my services, Mr Darcy.”
“Our opinions coincide, Mr Lockwood.” Darcy considered what he ought to say to continue their conversation. Darcy supposed he must be a sociable man because he took pity on Darcy’s inability to continue the conversation and volunteered that he had been a surgeon in London but now treated patients in Bath.
“Most of my patients take the waters for the benefit of their joints. I have been treating Miss Hareton, for example, for rheumatic fever for several years.”
“The lady is now Mrs Wickham,” Darcy corrected politely.
