For the first time in years, she felt utterly unsure of her footing.
Chapter Eighteen
Darcy’s gaze flickered from Bingley and Miss Bennet, seated together near the window on the far side of Longbourn’s parlour, to Miss Elizabeth, seated nearby with an unopened book resting in her lap. Darcy did not wish to disturb her reflections, and so he sat quietly with his own book, though he was not reading either.
But then, as if sensing his scrutiny, Miss Elizabeth looked up. Her lips curved in a faint, almost teasing smile. “You seem very pensive, Mr. Darcy. Is there something on your mind?”
Caught, Darcy straightened. “Merely observing,” he replied, though his tone lacked conviction.
Miss Elizabeth sighed softly, putting her book aside. “The banns have been read twice. Jane was concerned she had waited too long to tell Mr. Bingley about our parents.”
He had not forgotten the information Georgiana had gleaned from her time with the Bennet girls.
“You are Mr. Bingley’s closest friend,” Miss Elizabeth said. It was not a question, but he felt the need to respond anyway.
“I hope so. Outside of my family, he is mine.”
“Then perhaps you should know as well,” she said, her voice low but steady. “For your assistance may be required.”
“Assistance?”
She paused for a moment. “I suspect your sister has already told you that Jane and I are not Bennets by birth.”
Darcy frowned slightly. “She has.”
Miss Elizabeth’s gaze drifted to the fire as she spoke. “Our father was the third son of an earl. His family paid him little mind until he married my mother, the daughter of a Hertfordshire squire with a modest income and no title. Then they disowned him. He and my mother resided with my grandfather and helped him run the estate.”
Darcy gestured for her to continue.
“My grandfather and father died when they were inspecting a tenant’s barn after a storm and the hayloft collapsed on them. Jane was two, and I was but a babe. His family made it clear that they had no interest in us. Though they were willing to manage the estate—on our behalf, they said.”
Darcy’s stomach twisted at the coldness of it.
Miss Elizabeth nodded, her expression sombre. “Fortunately for my mother, Mr. Bennet had long been fond of her—they were children together. He had become friends with my father as well, and when he learned of our troubles, he offered to marry her, which they did with all haste. Then, at her request and with the help of my uncle Mr. Phillips, he became the estate’s primary trustee and ensured that her money was secured for her and her daughters.”
“He stood up against an earl?”
“And a viscount.”
“And he was successful.”
“As the husband, the law was clearly on his side. And he does not care for London, so they could not bother him there. A goodthing, too, for he made enemies of both the old earl and the current one.”
Darcy shook his head. He had never considered that Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth would have a connection to such a family. And he had certainly never thought it might be adetrimentto a match. “Then the warning is that the earl may cause a problem for Bingley?”
Miss Elizabeth lifted her shoulders in a tiny shrug. “It has been many years, but from my uncle and Papa’s account, they were very angry at the time. Does Mr. Bingley regularly engage in ton events?”
“He does, though not often with the peerage.”
“Then he should remain unmolested. But he should not remain unaware.”
Darcy frowned, a question forming in his mind. Instead, he made a statement. “Miss Elizabeth, my protection would be of more value if I knew the earl’s name.”
Her lips twisted as though she was tasting something very sour. “My father was Geoffrey Capell. He married Jane Sewell of Farnham Grange. Our uncle is George Capell-Coningsby, the Earl of Essex.”
He blinked. “But that makes no sense. Lord Essex has long been married to a woman whose family is in trade.”
“An extremely wealthy family,” Miss Elizabeth replied. “Wealth that allowed them to solidify their standing in the aristocracy. Not an unusual practice. Their true objection to my mother was that her father was wealthy only in an ordinary sort of way.”
