He followed the duke to the far end of a brightly lit hall; Darcy could only imagine they were heading to the ballroom. Indeed, at the end of the main hall were the famous greenish stairs that marked Anne and the duke’s first encounter. The view from upstairs was breathtaking; to his surprise, an army of servants was moving around.
The duke invited him to descend. “They are preparing the room for the ball in your honour Saturday night,” he stated and continued with a peal of happy laughter. “Call it fate!”
Darcy was still oblivious to the meaning of all this. He assumed the duke just wanted to show him the preparations for the ball, but why so suddenly, and why in the middle of reading the letter? They descended the stairs in total silence, and the servants stopped working at their sudden appearance.
The duke made a grand gesture, still on the stairs and said, “Leave us. You may continue later.”
Suddenly, everybody was gone, and the extraordinary room was empty. It opened onto the park from a wall of glass doors, while the other walls held enormous Venetian mirrors, making the large room look even more impressive. Darcy haddescended the stairs with a strong sense that his mother’s shade surrounded them. Still, he did not understand why the duke brought him there. Perhaps it was just to remember her. They stopped next to each other in front of a mirror. Then the truth burst, whole and plain, as if he had always known it inside, and now it erupted to the world.
“You are my son, Will…” the duke said, his voice trembling, a smile softening his tearful face and his gaze filled with affection. It was the most beautiful smile Darcy had ever seen on a man’s face.
It was indisputable—they were alike: same stature, same posture, same features.
As suddenly as he decided to bring Darcy into the ballroom, the duke took him in his arms. Darcy needed a moment to return the embrace while the duke whispered, “What would my life have been with her…and with you…”
“Sir…” Darcy attempted to speak, but the duke leaned against him as if he needed support. He seemed to be relying on his son’s strength.
After some moments, he continued, “Go home, my son, and we shall discuss this more in the morning. I need to be alone.”
As did Darcy—so he slowly broke the embrace and stepped away from the duke, from the past, and from the present, hurrying home where Elizabeth, his future wife, was waiting for him.
Chapter 18
Darcy left the house relieved that the duke had ended the meeting, as he could not bear more of it for the moment and could not see any person in the world. He was disconnected even from Elizabeth. She was there in his heart, but he could not reach her. During the first moments, there was the shock, but now, on the street, he was spent, astounded, and furious. He refused to take the carriage that was waiting for him. He needed time to sort things out before facing Elizabeth or Georgiana. With every step along the street, his feelings began to flow at an uncontrollable speed. He was astounded at first, but then he became sad, angry, and bitter, and then again, his feelings would tumble, remembering his mother was dead and she could not defend herself. He needed to quarrel with her, argue for hours, find an explanation for her decisions, and accuse her of betraying his father, the only one he had known.He needed to stand up for his dead father and try to regain his dignity.
Then he was angry again with Lady Anne, who decided to destroy his life, the duke’s, and, in the end, everybody’s. She had thought only of her feelings, and Darcy saw her gesture as a kind of revenge. But those who contributed to her unhappiness were no longer present to be confronted or to suffer from her revelations. Only the ones she purported to love would be affected. Then, only two streets further, he felt sorry for his mother, who carried that burden all her life. He wondered whether his father knew the truth or accepted her hand in marriage, knowing the circumstances. His parents never talked about their wedding day or their feelings. He would eventually find their marriage contract, but he was unsure he wanted to dig deeper into that story. Amid the turmoil, he thought most of his father, a beloved and highly respected figure in his life, a man who raised him to be the man he was. If he knew that ‘Will’ was not his son, that truth did not prevent him from being an attentive and wise father.
Moreover, it further proved his strong character. Darcy was proud to be his son because, after all, a father is the one who raises and educates the child. He was also happy that, despite the horrible story of her youth, his mother had the chance to share her life with such a worthy man.
He was not willing to think further, but he had to admit that his life would completely change as all the well-founded convictions a child has about his parents were shattered. Still, one guiding light remained: whether he knew he was his son or not, George Darcy was the bright figure to guide him through that difficult time. As he neared his home, he made an effort to accept that both his parents and the duke were the victims of circumstances they could not control.
The only one to blame was the 5th Duke of Blandford, who played with his son’s life as with a puppet and lived to have no remorse. The 5th Duke of Blandford, his grandfather!
He was not calmer as he finally approached his house, but at least he tried to make peace with all the events. He thought of the duke. He was his father; they did not need his mother’s words to feel what they saw in the mirror in their souls. He remembered the duke was shocked but seemed to take the news with a light heart and even enjoy it. He embraced him as a father, accepting him as his son that same instant. As he climbed the few steps to his door, a revelation overwhelmed Darcy: he could become the 7th Duke of Blandford. He had to lean against the door as he sensed the blood beating in his ears like a savage drum. He did not know what to do with that knowledge or where to put it, either in his mind or in his soul. He was sorry he left the duke, but at the same time, he also needed to be alone—except ‘alone’ no longer meant being by himself but with Elizabeth.
∞∞∞
He found the ladies still at the dinner table, waiting for him. Elizabeth, his beloved, immediately stood and moved towards him. Darcy kissed her hand, his eyes filled with a mixture of relief, love, and a hint of sadness. He knew he had to share the news with her, but he also knew that she would understand and stand by him, as she always did.
He sat at the table, his mind reeling from the day’s revelations. “Dear ladies, I had a long and very emotional talk with His Grace. I am not capable of telling you more this evening—I need to rest and reflect—but I promise that, in the morning, you will know the whole story. I do have wonderful news for you, though. Next Saturday, we are all invited to the Season’s ball,which the duke will give in honour of our future marriage. So, ladies, I want you to light the ballroom with your presence!” The anticipation of the ball, a celebration of their future, filled the room with a palpable excitement.
The ladies shared a few minutes of excitement while Darcy enjoyed their glee.
Eventually, he kissed Lady Edwina’s hand and Georgiana’s cheeks, smiled at Jane and slightly bowed, then took Elizabeth by the hand.
“We wish you a good night, ladies! I have something important to discuss with Elizabeth, and we shall see you in the morning.”
Then he led his blushing bride-to-be through the door. He knew that he was misbehaving and should not take such liberties in the presence of his sister, but he lacked the strength to wait for Elizabeth to retire for the night. He needed to be with her immediately.
Jane smiled, visibly agreeing with what was going on. She excused herself in her turn and went to bed, serene as always and as happy as she hoped she would be for the rest of her life.
Georgiana looked after them with a reproachful gaze that Edwina understood well. Georgiana could not wholly accept what was happening. She was no longer a girl in her brother’s care but almost an adult who had to face her brother’s marriage and their new relationship. In other times, she would have been the one to hear his stories, and now she had to wait till morning.
Lady Edwina took her hand. “Do not be sad, my angel. He will tell us all in the morning. Be assured: I shall torture him if he does not!”
Edwina wanted to jest, to dissipate the girl’s sadness and resentments that mingled to form a rather profound feeling.
Georgiana smiled, but it was a polite smile from her training and not from her soul. “I am not jealous. Please, believe me!”
