“And he promptly left her in London and went to Scotland with his mistress,” Richard put in. “Redgrave was livid. Said Stanton squandered his sister's dowry.”
The earl’s brows arched. “Had not heard that. Well, then you might have Redgrave. Let me see… Montclair, Hollinghurst, Thornton… perhaps Langford and… oh, maybe half a dozen others. Stanton has been working upon all of them, naturally—promising them land security, lower rents, even improvements in trade routes. He is selling dreams he cannot deliver.”
“Then I need to show them I can deliver,” Darcy said, more to himself than the others. He sat back, the wheels already turning in his mind. “I will write to Sir Frederick tonight, as well as my steward. I want precise details about Stanton’s acquisitions. If he is operating on the edge of legality, there has to be something we can use.”
“And appearances,” Matlock added. “You will be seen at every Derbyshire event in London—every luncheon, every gathering. And Miss Bennet must be with you.”
Darcy stiffened, but before he could protest, Richard spoke up.
“She is more than just a convenience now, Darcy. People believe what they see, and what they see is a man who understands them because he has chosen a woman who is one of them.”
Darcy’s jaw clenched. “I have not chosen anyone.”
“Not officially,” the earl said with a knowing smile. “But that hardly matters, does it?”
Darcy did not respond immediately. Instead, he reached for the brandy Matlock pushed toward him, letting the warmth settle as his mind sharpened. Setting the glass down, he met his uncle’s gaze squarely. “I will start with the Broadmoor and Cartwright families. Their influence among the smaller landholders is considerable, and while they have remained neutral thus far, their support will sway others. I will arrange a private meeting with Cartwright within the week—he has interests in estate reforms that Stanton has ignored. As for Broadmoor, he prides himself on his tenants’ loyalty. A few well-placed words about my stewardship at Pemberley should appeal to him.”
Darcy leaned back slightly, his eyes flicking to Richard. “And Iwillcontinue to be seen with Miss Bennet. If they believe I am a man of fresh alliances, so much the better. The appearance of independence from appears to be servingme well.”
Richard broke the silence with a grin. “You know, Darcy, for someone so reluctant to enter politics, you’re starting to sound an awful lot like a politician.”
Darcy allowed himself a faint smile, but as the conversation drifted back to strategy, he felt a new sense of resolve settle over him. This was no longer about obligation or family expectations.
Stanton posed a real threat—not just to Derbyshire, but to everything Darcy believed in.
And for the first time, he was ready to fight.
The soft clatter ofa carriage outside the Gardiners’ townhouse caught Elizabeth’s attention just as she was folding the corner of a book she had been pretending to read. She moved to the window, expecting to see the familiar figure of her uncle returning from his business, but instead, the sleek, unmistakable crest on the door of the carriage made her pulse skip.
Mr. Darcy.
Before she could fully process that realization, the bell chimed downstairs, and moments later, the maid’s hurried steps echoed up the staircase.
“Miss Bennet,” the girl announced breathlessly, poking her head into the sitting room. “Mr. Darcy is here to call on you.”
Oh. Goodness.She must have forgot some planned engagement. She sprang up from the settee, smoothing the wrinkles from her skirts with one hand and hastily tucking an errant curl behind her ear with the other. The book lay abandoned as her eyes darted around the room, scanning for anything out of place. A stray shawl tossed carelessly over the arm of a chair, a cup of half-finished tea—she set to rights what she could in the brief seconds it took the maid to retreat.
By the time Darcy entered, Elizabeth was standing near the mantel, feigning a calm she certainly did not feel. “Mr. Darcy,” she greeted, curtsying with what she hoped looked like practiced ease. “Forgive me, I must have forgot an appointment. Was there something we were meant to attend?”
Darcy seemed slightly taken aback. “No,” he replied, his brow knitting slightly, as though her assumption puzzled him. “I simply thought to call.”
Elizabeth blinked. That was… unexpected. She gestured toward the window with a hint of a smirk. “I see. And who, pray, is meant to witness your carriage stationed outside? I should hate to think I have disrupted some grand scheme for public appearance.”
Darcy’s confusion deepened, and for a rare moment, he seemed genuinely at a loss. “I... doubt anyone is observing me so closely,” he said slowly, as though the idea had not occurred to him. “I assure you, Miss Bennet, there is no scheme. Not this time.”
“Then… are we toplana scheme? Ah, I understand. Easier to talk over plans in person.”
He frowned. “That is not a bad notion, but it was not my intention.”
Elizabeth’s curiosity finally overcame her skepticism. “Then… why are you here, Mr. Darcy?”
Darcy’s mouth opened, then closed again. He glanced at the floor as though the answer might be hiding in the intricate weave of the carpet. He even turned about once, his eyes casting almost plaintively toward the door, but then twisted back to his original place.Just as Elizabeth began to wonder if he might leave without saying anything at all, his expression cleared.
“I was thinking about the… ah… the letter,” he said suddenly. “And the key. It occurred to me that my cousin, Richard, might know something—or at least, he might inquire discreetly.”
Elizabeth’s heart gave an odd little jolt, though whether from disappointment or relief, she could not say. She moved to the side table where her reticule lay, her fingers brushing over the delicate embroidery before slipping inside. “I... I opened the letter,” she admitted, withdrawing the folded paper with a furtive glance at Darcy. “I could not help myself. But I did seal it up—here, see? It looks entirely unmolested. Perhaps I am cut out for espionage, after all.”
Darcy’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he seemed not even to hear her joke. “And? What did you learn?”
