“Who said that?” Elizabeth asked.
“Oh, why, simply everyone I asked at the last coaching inn. Well, I suppose it was only one or two. Or was it just the kitchen maid? Anyway, she said he was betrothed once, and the lady left him for his best friend. Or was it a cousin? Anyway, it was all a great secret.”
“How mysterious!” Kitty squealed. “There is nothing quite so alluring as a man who needs his heart mended.”
“I am sure I am not interes—”
“Dear heavens!” Kitty whimpered as she swayed in place. “Is that him?”
Elizabeth turned and saw the tall caped rider approaching at a brisk canter. “It is,” she sighed.
MrDarcy’sfaceyieldedno expression as he came near. Not that she expected much, for the man was harder to read than Herodotus. By the time he drew rein, Kitty and Lydia were gripping each other’s hands in giggling anticipation and eyeing him like he was a prize ram at the market.
Fortunately, Mary had seen their mother inside. Elizabeth tried to shush the others and send them in as well, but they had no intention of leaving. She turned and offered a curtsy.
“Mr Darcy?”
He nodded and swung to the ground. “Mrs Wickham.” He left the rein draped about the horse’s neck and began to walk towards the trees.
After two months of acquaintance, Elizabeth no longer lingered behind in confusion when he behaved thus. She did glance back to see whether his horse would wander away, but it never did. She jogged to keep up and see what he had to say.
“I bring papers from London. You may be interested to know that as of twenty-eight January, eighteen hundred and thirteen, you are officially the widow of the former Bernard Andrew Wickham, and all his property and effects are now legally your own.”
She stopped. “I am… sorry, I suppose.”
Mr Darcy turned to face her. “My condolences in your time of grief, madam.”
She shot him a sour look. “You know perfectly well I do not mourn a man I never knew.”
“But you must keep up the appearance. While at Pemberley, I am afraid I must insist on full mourning attire, for he was well known to everyone there. Unfortunately. When you are here in your own house, you may go about as you wish, but you must absolutely wait a full year before remarrying.”
“What of his debts? Surely, I must now satisfy those.”
“What do you have to settle them with?” Mr Darcy arched a brow. “You may spare your breath, for I had bought all of Bernard’s debts when I had him committed to prison. As I held them, there is nothing left to repay.”
“But I am now the beneficiary of his estate, not you. How does it not follow that I must pay them back?”
“Because,” he growled in near exasperation, “I cannot accept repayment. That is all you need know.”
Elizabeth crossed her arms. “You hated him.”
“So I did. So did most people. You would have as well.”
“But why are you doing all this?” She spread her arms. “Why bring me on? Why fill the larder and tile the roof and pack my mother in your fancy carriage to come all this way?”
He frowned. “Because I agreed to. It was not for Bernard, I can tell you.”
“Then it was the younger brother you wished to thwart?”
Mr Darcy sighed. “Mrs Wickham, I urge you to rethink your accusation. You have been here a few weeks. Others have depended on this estate for generations.”
Elizabeth subsided. He was right, after all, and rather than rising to the bait as she was always tempted to do in his company, she ought simply to be grateful. “I presume there is some formality I must undergo?”
“The will and testament are to be read in three weeks in London. We shall go, and Georgiana will remain here. We shall bring your maid for propriety’s sake—I am afraid it would not be fitting to bring your…”
Mr Darcy ceased speaking and merely gazed in astonished silence over her shoulder. Elizabeth turned, her stomach dropping in dread of what she might find.
“Lizzy! There is a tree swing!” Lydia’s voice was almost lost amid her squeals of terrified delight as Kitty pushed her ever higher. Lydia was kicking out her heels and giving Mr Darcy a most undignified view of her petticoats, all while waving and shrieking like a hoyden.
