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“Ben, the reason I bring him up at all is that there is something you should know as regards Mr. Collins.”

“There is?”

“Yes, there is. Ben, your aunt Jane and Mr. Collins are married. He is your uncle.”

“Oh! I am aware of that already.”

Elizabeth decided not to press. She supposed Fitzwilliam must have told Ben of this.

“Indeed. How do you feel in having Mr. Collins as your uncle?”

“Better he is my uncle than my stepfather!”

Next, Ben went in search of Darcy’s cousin Anne, and he found her in the east parlour. “Good day, my lady.” Ben bowed before Anne who sat in a chair next to the window overlooking Pemberley’s maze garden.

“Good day, young sir. How was your riding lesson, this morning?”

“I did not have a lesson this morning?”

“Oh! Why ever not?”

“Da gave me permission to forego my lesson. I am on an important mission.”

“Would this important mission have anything to do with the Knights of the Roundtable? Are you off to wage war against your foes or rescue a fair maiden in distress?”

Ben tucked his hands behind his back. “Perhaps.”

“Do not keep me in suspense. Which is it?”

“I shall not say.”

“Then what say you? Is there a purpose to this visit?”

“Indeed. Da gave me an account of his fondest memories of Christmas this morning, which causes me to wonder⁠—”

“—Wonder what?”

“You and Da are cousins; you and the colonel are cousins. Did you also spend Christmas in Matlock when you were a young girl?”

Anne smiled. “Indeed, I did. But mind you, Fitzwilliam and Richard tended to avoid me like the plague when we were small children. However, after Grandfather and Grandmother Fitzwilliam passed away, family Christmases were spent at Pemberley, at least whilst Lady Anne lived.”

“Lady Anne?”

“Yes, Fitzwilliam’s mother.”

“I never knew you were Da’s mother’s namesake!”

“Indeed. My mother loved her sister dearly.”

“Do you miss Lady Anne?”

“Indeed. I miss her very much, especially at Christmastime. After my grandparents’ passing, she made sure that Christmas at Pemberley was everything it had been at Matlock. As children, our joy knew no difference.”

“Did Lady Anne and your mother have much in common?”

“My mother?”

“Yes, the great lady at Camelot. I remember her well.”