“I thank you for that, and I promise I shall try to clear my mind…and my soul. If you agree to meet tomorrow, we can discuss it further—if that is convenient for you.”
“Any time is convenient. I would like to invite you to dinner as I intend to introduce you to your siblings. Harriet is already married to a worthy gentleman, while the boys are still single, and they do not seem interested in marriage.”
“Do you think it is wise for me to meet them? I do not want them to resent me in any way.”
“Darcy, nobody in my house will ever have harsh feelings for you. I expect them to like you, but I can safely promise they will be at least perfectly polite. Do not worry. You, your wife-to-be, and your sister will be received in my house with affection or politeness—or both!” He laughed, full of good cheer.
“Thank you. I would also ask your permission to have our final discussion in Elizabeth’s presence. I keep no secrets from her.”
“Yes, certainly. I am glad you have such a strong relationship—most rare these days.”
Darcy smiled more composed for the first time that day. He intended to have a fulfilled life with Elizabeth and give her the place she deserved.
Chapter 22
“You look stunning,” Darcy exclaimed with admiration, seeing Elizabeth as she descended the stairs prepared for the visit to the duke. Her new outfit had arrived a day before from Mrs Camberley, a green pelisse with delicate black fur that accentuated the brightness of her face. As for the gown, a masterpiece of ingenuity, it had two different pieces, one shorter in a superb light claret red and the other one longer in the colour of Burgundy wine with intricate embroidery. She wore a ruby necklace, one of Lady Anne Darcy’s jewels that Darcy favoured. He was so proud of her that, in the carriage, he almost forgot the motive of their visit with the duke. Yearning to feel her close to him, he tried to kiss her, but Elizabeth, who could not temper her emotions and impatience, looked at him with reproach while defending herself. Then she laughed, kissed him on his cheek, and made him regain his bench with a voicethat sounded playful. But beneath her amused eyes, he could see how exhilarated yet nervous she was because of the visit.
For a few moments, both rediscovered the ease granted by their fulfilled love, but as they reached the duke’s residence, they both paused, overwhelmed by strong emotions. He took Elizabeth’s arm as the purpose of their visit resurfaced in his mind, sending a cold shiver through his body. Meanwhile, as Elizabeth stepped down from the carriage, she froze in awe—never had she imagined that one day she would cross the threshold of such a house.
The Duke of Blandford’s house was a fortress and a palace at the same time. It was a vast edifice built by the first duke to impress and inspire respect for their social status. After over two centuries, the 6th Duke of Blandford imposed many changes that transformed the sombre structure into a magnificent mansion with impressive high windows and unusual bright colours for the grey London.
The duke received them in his parlour, a chamber that vibrated strength and warmth, a distinctly masculine retreat Elizabeth admired as much as she enjoyed. The room bore the unmistakable mark of its owner—filled with carefully chosen objects that spoke of refinement without ostentation. A magnificent clock caught her eye, and, forgetting for a moment where she was, she stepped closer to admire it.
“She loves clocks,” Darcy said with a soft laugh, grateful that their visit had begun on such a convivial note.
“Then the clock is yours, my wedding gift to you,” the duke declared. And though Elizabeth began to protest, he silenced her with a resolute smile. “It is merely the beginning of a collection I hope to contribute further.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth murmured, still incredulous, glancing from the duke to Darcy, who watched her with unmistakable admiration.
“My mother loved—”
“Miniatures,” the duke finished Darcy’s sentence, and at that, they settled into a genuinely comfortable ease. Meanwhile, Elizabeth let her gaze wander over the elegant yet unpretentious room, which struck a delicate balance between imposing and inviting, a place meant to delight and embrace those who entered. It was so unlike her notion of a parlour—a room in which everything was meticulously arranged for the sake of guests, where even a single chair out of place might be considered an offence against the order. The duke’s home, though grand, was neither intimidating nor cold as she had feared. Instead, it was ahomeshe could see herself inhabiting, where life could be lived rather than merely displayed.
The duke approached them warmly, looking at her with approval and admiration and inquiring of Darcy teasingly, “May I compliment your future wife?”
They both laughed. Darcy was pleased to see the duke bow to Elizabeth courteously and express his genuine appreciation. Darcy was fully aware that the duke did not exaggerate. No compliment was enough to do Elizabeth justice.
Once seated, the duke abruptly began the conversation, addressing both of them and glancing at Elizabeth rather often as though needing her support.
“I am ready to proceed and fulfil all the legal implications the marriage registry has brought to our lives. I know the document is the original from the church’s register, but I must prove it. Then my marriage will be annulled and the first marriage recognised. And you will become the rightful and legal heir of the dukedom.”
A deep silence fell over the room, so intense that it disquieted them. The duke watched them with growing fear as what he saw was far from his expectation: Darcy, unmovedand pale, and Elizabeth, less than pleased with the prospect of becoming a duchess.
But Darcy did not hesitate to answer, proving that he had profoundly reflected on the words he wanted to use, and if his voice was hesitant, it was only because he came to respect the man in front of them. “Sir, I admire your determination to do what you feel is just, regardless of the scandal or consequences that might follow. I am proud to be one of the objects of your affection and the inducement for such acts.”
“I just want to restore the rights we were deprived of when our marriage document was torn from the register. I am eager to repair a horrid injustice. You are my firstborn son, and Anne was my wife. But I am waiting for your answer.” His voice was filled with a sense of duty and determination to right the wrong.
Darcy looked at Elizabeth, happy not to be alone in such a circumstance.
“I understand your motives, and I am deeply impressed by your love and loyalty for my beloved mother. But then, I am also shocked at how ready you are to face a scandal that will affect your family and remove his rights from your eldest son.”
“You are my eldest son!” The duke’s voice rose, filled with evident emotion.
Darcy met and held his gaze. Two pairs of eyes mirrored the same strength, the same power, the same determination, the same sense of honour and duty. Father and son, confronting, bonding, learning about themselves and each other.
“Yes, I am your first son,” Darcy hoarsely admitted. “However, Louis is the son you raised—a worthy son who made you proud. A son you love—just as you also love Harriet and Ralston—in a way few fathers do- is another proof of your remarkable character.”
The duke searched for a long moment for the proper words. “That is true. I do love my children, as I have been both mother and father to them for the last twenty years. But it is not compensation for missing you all that time. I feel discontented and angry for not being present in your life, and I cannot allow such a situation to continue. The past gave me pain and desperation. I wish to change the future.”
