Lady Matlock, lips twitching, murmured, “And about time, too.”
A sudden voice called out from the doorway, causing heads to turn. “What ho, is everyone in here?”
Colonel Fitzwilliam reentered at that moment, snatching a biscuit off the tea tray, and glanced around the room. “I trust no blood has been shed in my absence?”
Darcy, who had moved back to stand between her and her father like a living shield, exhaled slowly and did not move. His back was straight, his expression calm—but she could see the tendons in his neck, tight with effort.
Lord Ashwick growled, “If you left in order to let your cousin do something stupid and irrevocable, you timed your exit perfectly.”
“And yet,” Richard replied, strolling further in, “it seems we are all still breathing. I must say, I am impressed.”
“You will not be if you hear what your cousin has done,” Ashwick snapped.
“He has done nothing,” Elizabeth said, stepping forward. “I am the one who—”
“Be silent,” her father barked. “I will not have you humiliate yourself further.”
“I am not humiliated,” she said coldly. “And I have nothing to be ashamed of.”
Darcy’s hand closed gently around her wrist—support, not restraint.
“Where will you live?” the marquess demanded. “Do you have a residence suited to her rank?”
“I do not,” Darcy said quietly. “And I probably never will have anything worthy of her.”
“So, what is your plan, man?”
Darcy hesitated. “I have a… a connection in Hertfordshire that might serve our immediate wants. Or we may remain in town. Temporarily.”
“With what income?” Ashwick barked. “What will you use to feed her? Clothe her? Good intentions?”
“I am… employed.”
Ashwick scoffed. “At the Home Office? You can hardly afford to keep yourself. That is not enough!”
Darcy’s jaw ticked. “Then I shall find something that is.”
The marquess snorted, derision curling around every syllable. “You intend to keep her like a governess? Shall I expect to see her giving lessons to other people’s children?”
Elizabeth flinched. Her father might be angry, but he was not cruel—at least, not usually. That he would stoop to mockery meant he was floundering. Losing ground.
The Countess’s voice cut clean through the air. “You are being dramatic, Ashwick.”
He turned to her in disbelief. “You cannot seriously be encouraging this!”
“I am not encouraging anything,” she replied, eyes glinting. “But I am acknowledging what is already done. And you might consider that, in the right light, it may not be a disaster.”
“Indeed,” the Earl agreed, in a voice that sounded like a steaming kettle that had been close to boiling over before he gave it vent. “Darcy’s character is unimpeachable. As for the title, it might be extinct, but the Darcy name is older even than the Montclair—”
“Extinct?How very tactful of you. No, it wasrevoked,“ the marquess growled. “Forfeit! ‘Unnatural circumstances,’ as I recall. The father was… unlawful! How should I think better of the son?”
Darcy opened his mouth—then closed it again.
“Well, if you had any questions aboutthat,“ Colonel Fitzwilliam scoffed, waving the last bite of his biscuit, “I daresay you missed all evidence to the contrary. We’d a fair proof of that earlier, did we not? Lady Elizabeth, kiss him again and let us see his hair curl once more.”
“Richard, please,” Lady Matlock hissed.
“Sorry, Mother.” Richard cleared his throat. “Shall I leave now? Because I should like to know whether to pour more tea or fetch a clergyman.”
