Darcy's jaw tightened. “I do.”
“You discovered an error in your work—a minor one that did not affect the final answer. You could have said nothing. Instead, you spent the night agonising over it before confessing the mistake. You lost the competition by a half a point. Embarrassed yourself. Your father—”
“Do you imply that this is the same sort of situation? That it would be better if I did not pursue this?”
“I merely suggest, again, there is no reason to do so.”
Darcy glanced up at his cousin. “As for Cambridge—Iwasembarrassed, but my father was not. He was proud. He was already ill by then, if you recall.”
Fitzwilliam nodded.
“He said it had made him reflect on his life. That perhaps he and my mother had been too conscious of the family’s status. That our name, our position, even our wealth, were largely accidents of birth.”
“I never knew that” Fitzwilliam replied quietly.
Darcy nodded. “I did not believe it, not really. But this I did believe: He told me that honour is not doing what is right when it benefits us. It is doing what is right when it does not.” He moved to stand behind his father's desk, surrounded by the ledgers his family had amassed over the generations, each volume a testament to the legacy he had inherited. The memory of hisfather’s words pressed upon him like a physical thing. How often had they guided his hand, stayed his tongue, shaped his choices?
“I must at least investigate,” he declared, his voice firm despite his inner turmoil. “Even if it leads nowhere. Father would expect no less.”
“Did Father really say that?”
Georgiana had opened the door and entered while they spoke. The door was closed behind her, and she was leaning against it, her face pale. Her eyes darted from him to Fitzwilliam and back.
“He did,” Darcy said when he had recovered from his surprise. So much for planning a way to broach the subject gently.
Fitzwilliam’s voice was low and grave. “Pemberley is yours. You have been raised your entire life to be its master. You havebeenits master for nearly five years already.”
Darcy’s jaw clenched, and he stared at the floor, refusing to meet his cousin’s gaze. He was weary. “If Mr. Bennet is the rightful heir, what choice do I have?”
“Are you even listening to me? You are under no obligation to investigate further. In fact, you may be honour-bound to leave it be. Do you honestly believe a man such as the one you describe can maintain an estate as vast and complex as Pemberley? You know better than anyone it is not just a piece of land—it is generations of work, responsibility,discipline. If this man takes over, there is every chance he will run it to ruin within the year. What will everyone who depends upon the estate do then?”
Darcy grimaced and ran a hand through his already tousled hair. “I am aware. But if Mr. Bennet is the rightful heir, then Pemberley is his by law.” It was as painful to say the words as it would to be to have a sword run him through.
Georgiana, who had been listening in silence, looked anxiously between them. “What would happen to us?” Her voice was soft, hesitant.
Darcy’s expression softened as he glanced at his sister. “I am certain the earl and countess would take you in to live with them.”
“And you?” she asked quietly.
He had no reply.
Fitzwilliam’s voice cut through the silence, his tone even sharper now. “If Bennet is declared the heir, everything falls to him. Pemberley, the lands, the income—the better part of Georgie’s fortune. Everything you have worked for. All of it. The two of you would be left with almost nothing unless this Mr. Bennet chose to assist you.” He paused, his gaze hardening. “As one of her guardians, I cannot allow you to hand Georgie’s fortune over to someone else. You had best leave this alone.”
Darcy’s shoulders tensed. “I have told you why I cannot,” he said quietly, the words edged with bitterness.
The idea of stripping Georgiana of her fortune was abhorrent to him. Relying on Bennet’s charity would be nearly as bad. Pity was a burden he had never had to bear, and the thought of being dependent on the very man who might take Pemberley from him? Take his sister’s independence from her? It would be a humiliation beyond anything he had ever experienced.
Georgiana’s brow furrowed in concern. “But Papa separated my fortune from the estate. Has he not done the same with your wealth, Brother?”
“Georgiana,” Darcy said with a deep sigh, “if Mr. Bennet is the heir, then anything Father did is not legal and can be rescinded. Mother’s fortune was ten thousand pounds. As it came from the Fitzwilliams as her fortune and is mentioned in the marriage articles, it is not subject to the entail. The remaining twenty came from Pemberley and would be.”
His sister paused thoughtfully before saying, “Surely Mr. Bennet would not leave us in drastically reduced circumstances. You would be next in line to inherit after him. Would he notshow kindness, given the situation? If it is true, he is a Darcy, the same as we are.”
All he had seen of Mr. Bennet was a torpid man with a tendency to acerbity. “He is in very good health, and his wife is younger than he. It seems unlikely, but it is still possible they could sire an heir, given a reason.” Or he might outlive his wife and marry again to a woman of child-bearing age. "And Georgiana—he is not subject to the entail, for if he is the heir, it dies with him. He may leave Pemberley to anyone he chooses."
Fitzwilliam’s fingers drummed against the armrest of his chair. “Even if this Mr. Bennet were inclined to be generous, Pemberley is more than just its wealth.” He addressed Georgiana directly. “It is your father and brother’s work, your family’s home. It is not something he can simply hand over, no matter what the law says.”
He felt the weight of Fitzwilliam’s words settle over him. Pemberleywasmore than land or income. It was the very heart of the Darcy family, the one thing that connected him to everything and everyone he had ever known. But Georgiana was right too. If Mr. Bennet was truly the heir, he was a member of the family. The senior member.
