“I know they will not be put to work, sir, but they shall be poor and suffer the indignity of being shuffled between their aunts and uncles. They are too proud not to be wounded by charity. You must swallow your pride and let me go. The weather is vile, the task is onerous, and you must now find the philosophy within yourself to assign guardianship to me.”
He closed his eyes in an expression of momentary pain, and I knew I had won my point. “My youngest resembles my late wife to an uncanny degree, Darcy.”
“Seeing her reminds you of your loss?”
“More than that, she reminds me of my failings.” He sighed and in a moment of self-understanding, he said, “I am ashamed of her, and I fear she might disgust you. And should you cross her, she will become a fury.”
“She is a girl of sixteen, not Alecto.”
“There you are wrong, sir. To think of talking sense to her in the event this man is a bad bargain or to be forced to agree to a vulgar match struck by this Madame Trencher because she has been…”
He could not say what he feared, and I marvelled to see him look so utterly defeated, ancient, and frail. Every ounce of his recently accumulated vitality had drainedaway at the mere prospect of dealing with his youngest daughter.
After a heavy pause, he said, “You have a legal man at your disposal, I presume?”
“I do.” I asked several questions, and we spoke for a few moments, until I said, “You will excuse me while I make arrangements. You must write to Miss Bennet and tell her that all will be done. They are not to think of the matter any further. Nothing could be easier than to sign settlements should this man prove worthy, and you shall write with news as soon as you can. Make no mention of my intervention, sir. They will only worry you have taken a turn for the worse.”
