The duke, his emotion evident, had hoped for such a reception. He wished people would be stunned by their resemblance, finally understanding the truth of their relationship as father and son.
As he sat down, he glanced with delight at the three ladies around the table. He was well acquainted with Lady Edwina and admired Elizabeth’s beauty. At the same time, Georgiana’s resemblance to Lady Anne made his breath catch. She had thesame hair and smile, the same blue eyes and fragile, enchanting beauty.
All eyes were on him as he finished eating, so he said, “We have great news to announce to you!”
But if anyone had looked at Darcy, they would find he did not share the duke’s enthusiasm. He smiled, but he was still reserved.
“From the documents Anne left me, we know that Fitzwilliam is my son!”
“Oh?” Georgiana cried, glancing around, dumbfounded, pale, and devastated. Then her eyes filled with tears as her lips trembled, much to the duke’s astonishment. Lady Edwina embraced her, yet she continued to sob while Darcy took her into his arms.
How utterly tactless and inconsiderate he had been. That was not news to be delivered in a few careless words; it required preparation, a delicacy he had wholly disregarded.
“I am so sorry for causing this delicate lady such a pain! It was not my intention, please believe me,”he pleaded, his devastation evident in his gaze on the young girl. “In my overwhelming happiness, I was thoughtless. Please, forgive me, Miss Darcy.”
Georgiana turned her eyes filled with tears toward him and shook her head, a gesture imbued with the kindness that accompanied her every word she said and every gesture she made. She looked desperate and grieved, so he came closer and gently caressed her hair.
“I apologise if I hurt you, Miss Darcy,” the duke said.
“I apologise for my...outburst,” Georgiana tried to regain her composure, “but…what is the significance of all...this? I cannot bear the thought of losing my brother…” she whispered through her tears, her need for reassurance palpable.
“I assure you that will never happen, Miss Darcy,” the duke continued. “You will not lose a brother. You are forever bound by blood and affection. But I dare hope you soon consider that you have gained a father.”
Georgiana stared at him, tearful, doubtful, and reluctant. The duke forced a smile.
“Edwina can confirm that I am a rather understanding father,” he declared.
Edwina looked from the duke to Darcy, still astonished at their resemblance and wondering how she had never seen it before. Then she nodded; the duke was an incredible man, a devoted father, and a good friend.
“Yes.” Lady Edwina agreed with all her heart. “Indeed, he is a wonderful father.”
“I am sure he is,” Georgiana said, holding her brother’s arm for support. “I am sure you are, Your Grace,” she repeated to the duke.
But the ladies also needed a story, yet the duke decided to let Darcy tell it when and in whatever terms he chose. Though it was evident that he was his son, the marriage to Anne and all that had followed were circumstances so difficult to explain that, without a doubt, Darcy needed time to reflect.
“Will shall tell you the rest of the story,” he said. Then, turning to Lady Edwina, he added, “You look wonderful, my dear friend.”
And in quiet accord, the two began to reminisce about cheerful memories that had nothing to do with the turmoil they were experiencing.
Breakfast concluded in a more composed atmosphere; at its end, Darcy abruptly resolved to accompany the duke home, concerned by the weariness that seemed to weigh upon the older gentleman. The duke welcomed his son’s company, finding quietpleasure in his presence, yet he dismissed any suggestion that he required care.
“Sir, you do look exhausted,” Darcy insisted. “You should rest as soon as you arrive home. Trotting around town for almost three hours is a significant effort even for a young man.”
“I am still a young man,” the duke replied with a hint of sarcasm, entirely directed at himself, which Darcy greatly appreciated. “And I am stronger than many others with far fewer years on their shoulders.”
“I shall not argue that,” Darcy responded lightly. “Still, you must promise me you will rest.”
“Very well, then—I promise. I do appreciate your concern, and I am delighted we can spend another half an hour together.”
“As am I,” Darcy agreed.
The steady carriage pace produced the only sound suited to their state of mind.
“Thank you, sir, for being kind and considerate to my sister. Georgiana is already distressed, perhaps even a little frightened by my marriage, even if she pretends otherwise. And these problems…this news that affects my life and hers…are difficult to bear.”
Darcy hesitated; out of respect for the duke, he regretted calling their present situation a problem, but in the end, it was a question that troubled everyone’s lives.
“I understand that. And everything I said came from my heart. Both of you—all three of you now that Miss Elizabeth is almost your wife—have been my children since yesterday and will be until the end of my life. I intend to keep my promise the best I can.”
