“You know the Duchess of Beauford?” she asked eagerly.
“Yes, a little. I have met her before, but—”
He broke off abruptly.
“What do you know? Please, please tell me!” she exclaimed. She was intensely interested in a story of which she knew only fragments. “How do you know her?”
“First of all, I know the family. There are not so many dukedoms in Britain. I am not a close acquaintance. We have met at the theatre and at balls and have been introduced.”
“You are not telling me what I want to know. Please.”
He smiled at her eagerness, delighted to discover yet another side of Elizabeth. “So Miss Elizabeth does enjoy gossip.”
“Of course I do. I am not some dark warrior.”
“I am very glad to hear it.”
Elizabeth withdrew her hand from his arm, but with a gesture so gentle that it almost startled her, he took it again and restored it to its place.
“Yes, I know the story of the Duke and Duchess of Beauford.”
“Splendid,” she said, involuntarily glancing towards the parlour where her uncle, standing beside an open window, was waving in their direction.
“Oh, my God,” Darcy murmured, following her gaze. A sudden realisation dawned upon him.
“Now you are making me angry,” Elizabeth declared. “Please speak before they summon us back for dinner.”
“It was your uncle who saved the duchess.”
At once, the entire story assumed a new shape. The mysterious benefactor whose actions had fascinated London society stood revealed as Elizabeth’s uncle.
“What do you know?” he asked, now interested in her version.
“That his lordship was a gambler and lost his fortune and much more besides. Upon his death, his widow inherited enormous debts, and my uncle, who had known her since childhood, paid the creditors.”
Darcy nodded. “All London wishes to discover the identity of that secret saviour. For more than a year, the subject has been discussed everywhere. Her ladyship’s desperation attracted widespread sympathy. Many wished to help, but the sum was immense, and all she possessed was her London house and a few small estates.”
“Not enough to satisfy the debts?”
“Apparently not.”
Elizabeth considered this for a moment before speaking again. “But I do not understand how such debts could remain hidden until his death.”
“It often happens. A man of such rank is rarely called to account whilst he lives. More often, the consequences fall upon his family.”
“That is terribly unjust.”
“Indeed. In this case, it was even more tragic. Their only daughter, disgusted by her father’s conduct, left London thirty years ago. Society says she never spoke to either of her parents again.”
“But how do you know such details?” Elizabeth asked.
“Miss Elizabeth, London is nothing more than a larger Meryton.”
“Much larger, and I imagine you do not know all its inhabitants.”
“Certainly not. Yet London is divided into circles and communities. Even when one does not know a person directly, one hears of their actions. My aunt Lady Matlock, Lady Catherine, and many of our acquaintances are always exchanging stories. Lately, Georgiana hears them first, and then I hear them from her.”
“So you admit that you expected a higher standard of behaviour from my family than from most of the families in London, including your own?”
