“It was not a simple love story between two young people, as she let me believe.” Lady Edwina’s voice held a trace of reproach. “He gave her a ring. It was a promise. Perhaps he even proposed to her.”
“You were not aware that he asked her to marry him?” Darcy could hardly take his eyes off the ring he handedGeorgiana, who instinctively put it on her finger. It fitted perfectly. She hurried to remove it, but Darcy tenderly told her to keep it. There was a new bond and understanding growing between the siblings now that they were together in such extraordinary circumstances. For many years, Darcy had been not only the elder brother but also the father figure for Georgiana. But in the presence of past secrets, a new relationship was flourishing between brother and sister. Georgiana was thrilled, and Elizabeth could see that Darcy also enjoyed the situation.
“I never knew about any marriage plans between them,” Lady Edwina finally said. “I shall tell you all that I knew. Perhaps, with all the letters she left, we can decipher the secret. But first, I need a drink.”
They all laughed at her words, and the tension began to dissipate, for the ring revealed a daring secret. They wanted to know more but felt they knew most of it.
Lady Edwina wiped her tears, asking for orange wine, her favourite drink. Edwina came from a different society; at Pemberley or in Hertfordshire, a lady never drank before the afternoon, and, even then, generally, only married ladies could have a sip of wine or sherry. However, in London, manners were different. Over the past few days, Georgiana and Elizabeth have discussed this difference; a lady of their world has privileges in town that were inconceivable for women in the country. Elizabeth just moistened her lips into the wine and smiled. Lady Edwina brought with her a different air, not only in the stories she shared but also in how she lived.
“That night at the duke’s palace, they fell in love when they saw each other. In those times at a ball, a girl like Anne would have had all her dances promised, but only a few men could approach her that night. She told me…”
Edwina hesitated; it was strange to be in front of her goddaughter and godson, now grown, and narrate the passionate love story between their mother and a relative stranger.
“Come now,” Darcy said, his voice filled with determination, “we have already overcome any concerns. We know part of the truth and want to know more—everything you remember. And then we shall see the letters. It is too late to step back. We have decided to unveil our mother—the real woman.”
“She was real in everything she felt or did for you.”
“I know. I just meant to say we need to have a complete picture of her.”
“Please,” Georgiana continued, pleading their cause, “we know her as a mother and from time to time as a wife and mistress of the house, but it is so special for us to come to know her as a woman in love.”
“Well, my dears, I am not sure children should be told such details about their mother’s life.”
Elizabeth was reluctant to enter their discussion, but she wanted to be a part of it as she had the privilege of being invited into Lady Anne’s heritage by the lady herself. The codicil regarding her was in the same package as the letter for Darcy.
“If you will allow me to intervene, I think Lady Anne expressed her final wish when she wrote that letter to Fitzwilliam and left behind the portraits after her death. Her decision was to let you know about her love and give you more details than even her closest friend knew.”
Darcy looked at the lady he loved with genuine appreciation and pride. “Yes, I totally agree with Elizabeth. The reticence springs from our feelings and not from her will. She wanted us to know everything in the documents she left behind. So, please tell us all you know.”
Chapter 13
Lady Edwina was still reluctant, but in the end, it was a thirty-year-old story that could not affect the present. The duke’s benevolence towards Darcy was a sign of reverence addressed to Lady Anne, and that could come only from a dear memory he still cherished. There was nothing dangerous in the past that could affect the two young Darcys in the present.
“A love like theirs exists only rarely,” Lady Edwina said, and all three smiled. “I know I have already told you this, but it is the only image that can translate their love into words. When they looked at each other, bolts of lightning seemed to flash between them. It was impossible not to see, yet nobody did, or at least not that mass of gossipers who usually shredded news among the ton. I think, around that time, there was a considerable scandal about a royal figure, and nobody had eyes for two young people in love. I have forgotten much from those days, but not the morning she entered my bedroom and cried,‘I am in love, I am in love.’ Anne and her whole family were staying at my parents’ place. Your grandfather and my father were great friends. Imagine—we met when we were toddlers and never separated from that moment on. At that time your family, the Matlocks, did not have the London house and they stayed at ours whenever they visited the capital. We were both eighteen then, when the story began.”
“I was ill with a terrible cold, but they suspected influenza. I could not leave the house, and my only enjoyment was Anne’s story. We were not allowed to be too close. I remember her sitting on a chair next to the door, but she kept rising then sitting repeatedly as she told me about Will.”
“Will?” Darcy asked in disbelief.
“Yes, his name is William Fitzroy. Everybody called him Fitzroy after his ancestor except for her. He had been ‘Will’ from that first night at the ball.”
“She called you ‘Will’!” Georgiana exclaimed.
“Yes,” Darcy said. “She called me Will, and I had always thought it came from Fitzwilliam.”
“Well, the name was a coincidence. In old times, ‘Fitz’ meant ‘son’. Just as ‘Fitzroy’ is the son of the king, Fitzwilliam is the son of William. In your ancestry, there probably was a preeminent William, but the choice of your name came from your father. He decided to name you after your mother’s family, and I think Anne was amused by the coincidence. She told me once that her destiny was to live with Will, and even after they were separated, she continued to think that way.”
It was long past noon, but they did not feel tired. It was important for each of them to continue, so they decided to stay on and retire only to refresh before dinner. Edwina continued to talk, completely enveloped in memories, no longer telling a story but living it as it once was.
“Fitzroy had just turned twenty-one, so young that nobody expected him to marry. In those days, men married around thirty, and it was more than usual for a young heir to have adventures before marriage.”
Looking at Darcy, Elizabeth wondered whether that had also happened to her future husband, while a little smile at the corner of his mouth told her it had. He promised her the truth, but this day was entirely for Lady Anne.
“We were friends, yet we were different; perhaps that was why we loved each other so dearly. I was raised in London and have lived here all my life. Anna had grown up on her father’s estate near St Albans, and whenever they came to London, they stayed with us, for at that time, they did not yet have a house in the city. At times, I visited them, but I never cared for life in the countryside. We always laughed at how different we were—I was a city girl, and she was a country girl—”
Lady Edwina fell silent, her eyes brimming with tears.
“But that was not true. She was elegant and stylish without effort, it was her nature. She was born to be a princess, yet she carried the modesty of a simple girl.
