Darcy pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache coming on. “So you and Miss Bennet own your grandfather’s estate?”
She nodded. “Papa and Uncle Phillips are our trustees. It is a little larger than Longbourn, but not much. It has been leasedout ever since my mother remarried. The funds go to maintain it and anything remaining is deposited in the funds for Jane and I.”
Another misperception. He would never listen to Miss Bingley’s gossip again. “Then you and Miss Bennet have dowries?”
“Fortunes,” she corrected him. “Not on the scale of your sister’s, I suspect, but yes.”
A dowry went to the husband upon marriage. But if legally arranged before a woman married, her fortune could be protected by trustees other than her husband. And even in cases where the husband became the trustee of her funds, the woman could regain control of those monies when widowed, especially if it was stated in the marriage settlement. This was something he intended to do for his sister, and he was glad Mr. Bennet planned to do the same.
“Papa insisted that we should not know the exact amounts until he passes, for he says we will not need to touch the accounts while we live at Longbourn. The only way around that is to marry a man of whom he approves, when of course he shall include it in the marriage contract.” She smiled a little. “And of course, if we marry, we shall leave Longbourn. So Jane will know soon, as will Mr. Bingley. But Papa will swear them both to secrecy, so I shall have to wait.”
“What does Mrs. Bennet say?”
Miss Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled. “She only knows that our mother left us a small competence. Papa never speaks of it, so she may have forgotten entirely, but I suspect she thinks it very small indeed.” She shrugged. “And it may well be. I would not know.”
Even if Mr. Bennet had not saved the income from the estate, half the proceeds from the sale of the property would likely besubstantial. “It might be difficult to wed well when your fortunes are kept so quiet.”
She met his eyes and arched one eyebrow. “We may have different ideas about what it means to wed well, Mr. Darcy. Papa has always said that a man who is truly deserving of us will propose without first inquiring about the money.”
Darcy felt an unexpected flash of admiration for Mr. Bennet, mingled with shame for the dismissive opinions he had once held of the man. Had he been able to keep the amount of Georgiana’s fortune a secret, he would have done so without hesitation. But his mother had told her sister, and Lady Catherine had told everyone else, and it had made his sister a target of fortune hunters before she even had her come out.
Miss Elizabeth continued, her tone growing softer. “My mother married Papa—Mr. Bennet—very quickly after losing my father, and she died herself a year or so after that. Papa could have sent us away. We had nowhere to go, but that was not his fault. We were not his responsibility.”
Darcy’s chest tightened as he imagined the vulnerability of two tiny girls in such a situation. “But he did not,” he said quietly.
“No,” Elizabeth agreed, her voice steady. “He had already given us his name, as my mother asked. She loved my father but hated his family. And Papa has always treated us as his own.”
“When did he marry the current Mrs. Bennet?”
Miss Elizabeth lifted her chin. “About a year after my mother’s death. She was young, pretty, and kind. He believed she would be a good mother to us—and she has been.” She paused, her tone softening. “Mamma is not the cleverest of women, and her eagerness to see us married has often tried my patience. But her heart is generous. She has always treated us as her own, right down to scolding us when we go against her wishes.”
Darcy regarded her for a long moment, his thoughts churning. Miss Elizabeth’s candour had taken him by surprise, and yet,it made sense to issue the warning. Essex might make things uncomfortable for Bingley, if he even remembered that his younger brother had sired two daughters. “Miss Elizabeth,” he said, his voice earnest, “thank you for telling me this. I know it could not have been easy.”
“It was not difficult, Mr. Darcy. It is simply rare for me to feel that someone outside my family would need to understand. I would ask that you not mention the earl’s name unless you are speaking with Mr. Bingley. The fewer people aware of the particulars the better, for I would not like to pique the earl’s curiosity.”
He inclined his head, humbled by her trust. “I will do justice to your confidence, of course.”
Miss Elizabeth smiled. “Thank you,” she said. “I know my family history is somewhat complicated.”
“It is nothing compared to some of the aristocracy,” he replied, intending to lighten the mood. He congratulated himself when her eyes sparkled with amusement.
Across the room, Bingley and Miss Bennet still spoke softly, and Bingley took his betrothed’s hand in both of his own.
He had judged the Bennets harshly, and though they were all those things he had disliked, they were much more than the sum of their faults. Darcy had long admired Miss Elizabeth, but tonight she had revealed a sense of loyalty to her Bennet family—and of them to her and her sister—that demanded his respect.
But that was not why he was here.
His purpose in Hertfordshire was a simple one. He was here to confirm or refute his troubling suspicions regarding Mr. Bennet and, if necessary, determine what to do about it. And both Miss Elizabeth and her family deserved better than to be viewed through the lens of his inheritance or loss of it.
Bingley stood and bent over Miss Bennet’s hand. With a grim resolve, Darcy closed his book and stood as well, his movement drawing Miss Elizabeth’s attention. She rose.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said, his voice steady though his heart wavered, “I bid you a good day.”
Her smile was genuine, but there was also something challenging in her expression. “Good day, Mr. Darcy.”
He inclined his head and left the room with measured steps, his thoughts in turmoil. He needed time away from here to plan, to put everything in order in his mind. Yet he could not leave until they discovered whether his father’s twin had been found. Distancing himself from Miss Elizabeth would quiet neither his conscience nor his hopes.
However, any attachment to Miss Elizabeth would certainly muddy his purpose. Given the story about her parents and the earl, there was now another reason to shy away. Yet a part of him whispered that she was worth it. Worth anything.
