Every chaotic emotion warred through my overwhelmed spirit. Fitzwilliam clearly knew more than he had confessed regarding this place. Which meant his maneuvers at shielding me from George likely hid darker motives than merely rekindling old affections safely. My gut churned, fresh hurt bleeding through anger’s fragile scab. I trusted him! Believed, despite all evidence, that this man stood apart from manipulation. Oh, what a blind, naive fool!
Fury rolled off Uncle Gardiner in waves as he moved to block the entrance. “It seems opportunity knocks for long-overdue honesty! We shall drag the truth out now, whatever scheme brought this reckoning.”
I braced myself as boots pounded urgently nearer. Very well! If answers must be wrenched out by bare force of will, then I would claim them no matter the devastation. Eyes blazing through hot tears, I stepped up beside my uncle. The time had come to unmask whatever betrayals had defined my life to this point.
Thirty
Darcy
IscarcelyfeltCaesar’slaboring flanks pounding beneath me, urgency lending wings toward Farthingdale. George’s thoughtlessness had shattered my numb paralysis to blistering purpose. I must intercept Elizabeth before George’s disastrous letter shattered her heart all over again! Explanations could come later—first, I must shield her from fresh wounds no matter the personal cost.
The estate finally crested the rise, and my chest was near to bursting. But at my frantic knock, I received only a curious stare from the kitchen maid who said I had missed Mr. Gardiner’s carriage not ten minutes earlier. She had already left for Hertfordshire! Surely, I could not be too late. When did George say he posted that letter to her? Or had he sent it by an errand boy? Perhaps she had not yet been treated to its callous words.
Onward we plunged, though poor Caesar was nearly spent. But we needn’t travel with all possible speed. Surely, on this remote road, I must eventually overtake a gentle landau’s ambling pace. I leaned low over Caesar’s neck and asked him for a little more heart. And if he had little left to spare, I had enough for both of us. My eyes raked the winding path ahead for some evidence, some cloud of dust heralding doom or redemption ahead.
At last, the road opened into a small valley, winding benignly toward distant Lambton. And there! In the shimmering heat-haze danced the promise of a crawling coach just entering a copse of wind-break trees. My heart seized mid-beat, a cracked cry of desperate hope half-strangled behind my raw throat. It could be anyone, of course, yet my instincts shouted with certainty that itmustbe her.
I eased Caesar’s headlong plunge by necessity, letting him blow a little. But what was this? The distant carriage unexpectedly swerved eastward at the crossroads onto a little-traveled sidetrack. Alarm surged anew at this ominous sign. For that road led not toward Lambton as anticipated, but directly on to... Southgate Park!
Sudden conviction struck, chilling my very marrow. Gardiner was taking Elizabeth there for a reason. Perhaps we would at last have some answers! With a savage oath, I slammed my heels to Caesar’s straining flanks, launching us up the next slope. I tossed prayers to the fickle wind and rode desperately on.
Ileaptrecklesslyfromthe saddle the instant Caesar’s hooves hit the drive. My legs eating up the flagstones four at a time, I took the front steps still at a near run, heart ricocheting wildly about my ribs. Just within the entry, I stumbled to an abrupt halt.
There stood Elizabeth, wrapped in icy dignity behind sparks of fury promising scalding retribution. Jane Bennet hovered uncertainly beyond one shoulder. Hastily reading the atmosphere, she sketched a brief curtsy before slipping noiselessly past me to the safety of her uncle’s carriage outside.
Apparently, Elizabeth had read George’s letter.
I stood awkward and exposed to a blistering inspection beneath Elizabeth’s crackling gaze. Half-formed greetings went shriveled and useless on my tongue. Leadened feet refused cooperation as I reluctantly advanced deeper into the lion’s den I had blithely manufactured. Finally, I stopped right before the blazing goddess of wrath, and my courage failed utterly. Lamely, I executed a humiliating bow, tongue cleaving uselessly to the roof of my mouth.
“Miss Elizabeth, I do not believe I have yet had the pleasure...” I croaked hoarsely, my shamed gaze sliding sideways to her bristling escort. Furious color darkened her cheeks, making the lightning in her eyes flash brighter still. Mortified by such bungling disservice my ingrained manners had been reduced to, I could only remain frozen at attention beneath her scorching scrutiny.
For an endless tense moment, Mr. Gardiner and I faced off. At last, Elizabeth took a visible hold of her composure, drawing a long, steadying breath likely audible even back at Pemberley. Haltingly, she made formal introductions, clipped tones cutting with arctic chill. An ocean voyage would prove less daunting than casting myself upon those unwelcoming shoals.
Mutely I endured her merciless regard, contrition and yearning’s tempest raging futilely unvoiced. Explanations would emerge all in due course. For now, I deserved no consideration beyond the chance to voice amends before the axe fell irrevocably and forever.
“Mr. Darcy,” Mr. Gardiner greeted me. His jaw was flexing in displeasure, and well did I know why. Perhaps Elizabeth had told him of George’s careless brush-off, but more likely, he perceived me to be shattering the understanding he had with his ward, merely by my presence. If my father had charged him to keep her from me… from us… well, I was forcing him to betray that oath, was I not?
I cleared my throat. Perhaps I ought to appeal to my father’s memory. “Mr. Gardiner, we have met before, back when you advised my father... although, I confess the precise details escape me after so long.”
Unexpectedly, he smiled, craggy features softening. “Ah yes, I thought you might forget—it was years ago, and you were still a gangly youth.” His reminiscent chuckle perplexed Elizabeth somewhat. “But your father often mentioned what a serious, dutiful son he had. I see time has not changed that overmuch.”
I flushed, sensing a potential advantage with this amenable guardian. “You flatter me too highly, sir. In truth, I still struggle to uphold the lessons learned from my father.” My glance brushed Elizabeth’s rigid profile, yearning to caress the proud cheek averted coldly from me.
With an explosive sigh, Mr. Gardiner appeared to deflate before my eyes. “Well, I suppose it was inevitable that the past and present should collide after recent events...” He eyed me heavily. “No doubt you are wondering why I did not reply to your letter seeking truths about Elizabeth’s past?”
I met his gaze unflinching. “You guessed rightly, sir. Now more than ever, the need for full honesty has gained new urgency.”
“As I told Elizabeth, her late mother held a clear claim to this property. And by all indications, numerous assets from wealthy lineage accompany it.”
My head spun, grappling with it all. “But my family safeguarded her future through childhood—” Doubt darkened my protest. “Surely you cannot mean her true parents simply abandoned a helpless babe to the mercy of strangers? Signed away her inheritance and her future?”
His grizzled head shook sadly. “Your own honored father undertook that sacred charge, and I suspect he did so as a personal favor—hardly the act of a stranger, though he took most of the truth to his grave.” Piercing eyes met mine. “And now I invite you, Sir—speak freely any questions haunting your peace regarding the past. It has been plaguing you for many years, I can see.”
I stared dumbfounded, my pulse thundering. At long last, an opportunity to demand answers regarding cryptic actions blighting two households over seven shadowed years. Wild chaos careened through my brain, questions rioting into incoherence. Blindly, I grasped at scattered wits, praying scattered words might form a rational plea.
“If such care was taken securing Miss Elizabeth’s future, why the veiled demand that she vanish completely from our lives?”
Mr. Gardiner regarded me somberly. “Your father commanded her removal to save others’ prospects.” At my baffled look, he elaborated. “Were she presented to Society, members of her true family would assuredly recognize her features. Her eyes, I was told, and her smile would proclaim her as her mother’s child in an instant to anyone who would have known her. And the ensuing scandal would cast damaging aspersions upon others, their prospects ruined by her discovery.”
