Page 25

Mr Gardiner reeled in a small, shimmering trout, removed the hook, and placed his catch in a separate fish basket.

Darcy reeled in his own empty line. He had a clear path forward, stripped of emotional pitfalls and familial guilt. He also had Anne’s agreement, and he only needed to execute this business transaction.

They gathered their equipment and proceeded up the lawns to the manor. The sun had risen fully, burning away the remaining mist, and Darcy walked with a light, purposeful stride.

They entered through the secondary doors near the boot room. A footman relieved them of the fishing rods and baskets.

“I shall retire to my chambers to change for breakfast,” Mr Gardiner announced, dusting his palms together. “I wish you the utmost success in your business meeting, Mr Darcy. Remember: facts, not feelings.”

“I shall adhere to your instructions, sir,” Darcy promised, bowing in gratitude.

Mr Gardiner ascended the stairs leading to the guest wing.

Darcy did not proceed to his own chambers. He required no change of clothing for the task ahead. He walked to the morning room, the usual sanctuary for the younger ladies of the house before the formal breakfast hour.

He found Georgiana sitting at the window seat and Anne occupying the chaise longue, a book resting on her lap. The two wolfhounds slept peacefully on the rug.

Anne looked up from her book. “You look as though you are preparing to jump a very tall fence. What is the matter, Cousin?”

“Where is your mother, Anne?”

“She is in your study, apparently. Mrs Jenkinson came to bring me another shawl and she told me Mother is inspecting the globe and expressing dissatisfaction with the placement of the continents. She went back to her.” Anne studied his face for a moment. “Has the time come?”

“Yes. I believe I can no longer postpone it.”

Georgiana abandoned the window seat, her eyes wide with a mixture of excitement and lingering trepidation. “Are we truly doing this, Fitzwilliam? Right now?”

“We are doing this right now.” Darcy smiled reassuringly. “We shall approach it firmly, without engaging in arguments regarding the past. We will merely state the facts.” He glanced at her. “Are you prepared, Anne?”

Anne set her book aside, rose and stood straight, her chin elevated.

“I am prepared for everything,” she replied, her tone ringing with newfound iron. “Lead the way, Cousin.”

Darcy offered his arm to Anne, and Georgiana followed behind them.

They reached the study. Darcy grasped the handle, turned it, and pushed the door open.

Lady Catherine de Bourgh stood beside a large, ornately carved globe positioned near the windows, her walking stick in one hand. Mrs Jenkinson hovered nervously three paces away, holding a notebook and a piece of graphite.

“The cartographer was incompetent!” Lady Catherine stroked the surface of the globe with her finger, causing the sphere to spin. “The proportions of the Americas are incorrect! I must write a letter to the maker of this globe. Note that down, Mrs Jenkinson. ‘Inaccuracies regarding the colonial territories’.”

“Yes, your ladyship,” Mrs Jenkinson squeaked, scribbling in the notebook.

“Aunt Catherine,” Darcy spoke, his tone carrying the authority of the estate owner.

Lady Catherine halted the spinning globe with a flat palm. She turned and saw the three of them standing just inside the threshold.

“Fitzwilliam,” Lady Catherine acknowledged, her gaze narrowing as she took in the unexpected gathering. “Why are you roaming the house in a pack? Anne, where is your shawl? The air in this study is too damp for your lungs.”

“The air is perfectly dry, Mother,” Anne replied, her voice remaining calm and steady.

Lady Catherine was taken aback by her daughter’s firm contradiction. “Nonsense. Mrs Jenkinson, fetch a blanket immediately.”

“Mrs Jenkinson,” Darcy interjected, holding up a finger. “You may leave us. This is a private family conversation.”

The nervous companion dropped her graphite piece and did not wait for Lady Catherine to countermand the order. She bobbed a hasty, disjointed curtsy, and fled.

Lady Catherine drew herself up to her full height and gripped her walking stick tightly. “What is the meaning of this insolence, Fitzwilliam? You dismiss my servant? You bring my daughter into a damp room without proper attire? Explain yourself.”