“Not so bad! She fairly bragged to Mr Wickham that I meant to deed Corbett Lodge to her when I remarried—and my supposed lover! Jane, what could make Lydia suppose that there was anything between Mr Darcy and me?”
“Do you mean there is nothing?” Jane asked innocently.
Elizabeth dropped the hand that had been kneading her brow. “Of course not! Are you saying that you also thought—”
Jane shrugged. “I think everyone does. It is true, I have only met him a few times, but each time he entered a room, he looked first for you before going to anyone else.”
“Because I am employed at his house!”
“And there is his tone of voice and expression when he speaks to you.”
“Again,” Elizabeth huffed, “he is familiar with my presence and I do not require him to engage in small-talk—”
“Confess it, Lizzy! You find him attractive as well. Come, now, I have seen how you watch him when he is looking away.”
“How could I not? The man is infuriating!”
“Is that why you stare at him? And my goodness, how you needle him! You have not bickered so energetically with anyone since Papa. A stranger would think you to be fighting in anger, but I believe you both take much pleasure from such exchanges.”
“You mistake me, Jane. I owe Mr Darcy my respect, that is all. If I relate to him differently than others, is it not to be expected? I am in his house all week, and he is entirely responsible for our family’s comfort. Should I not spare him some civility?”
“But what does he owe you? Certainly, far less than he has already given. Confess it, Lizzy—there is something, is there not?”
“I… no, Jane. Perhaps we have a peculiar way of getting on, but all this means nothing. Men of Mr Darcy’s station do not take notice of their younger sisters’ companions.”
Jane tilted her head and raised her brows. “Then why are you blushing?”
Elizabeth quickly pressed her palms to her cheeks. “I am not. But we are not speaking of me. What are we to do with Lydia?”
Jane shrugged. “She is only fifteen. What girl of her age does not speak some embarrassment or other? I am sure Mr Wickham will be generous and refrain from repeating anything she said.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Perhaps Mr Wickham is one of the principle people I would not wish to hear Lydia’s folly.”
“Surely it is nothing. I think you are weary, Lizzy, and you are fretting more than you need to. Has Mr Darcy sent word of his London business? I do hope he returns soon to ease Miss Darcy and relieve some of your worries.”
“I would not count on seeing Mr Darcy again soon,” Elizabeth muttered. “And perhaps it is for the best.”
LadySophiawasnolonger wearing mourning black when Darcy called at the Earl of Matlock’s London house the following week. He glanced at his cousin a second time in some surprise. Richard had not exaggerated when he claimed his sister would be seeking another husband soon, for the lady had donned a highly… diverting gown. She even appeared to be painted—or as close to such a scandalous state as an earl’s daughter would dare tread during the morning hours.
“Lady Matlock, Lady Sophia.” He bowed to both his aunt and cousin at the drawing room before the footman announced that his uncle would see him in the study. He gave his promise to both ladies that he would not depart without taking tea.
The earl rose from his desk to greet him warmly, and with very little preamble. “Ah, Darcy, I am glad you came when you did. This came not an hour ago—what do you make of it?” He extended a note. “It looks to me as if someone thinks to discredit your father in his grave. Bloody indecent!”
Darcy’s brow furrowed as he read the tightly penned lines—the words “foundling” and “forgery” leaping out more than once. “What is this?” he asked. “A claim that Bernard was not legally acknowledged by Franklin Wickham during his lifetime? Preposterous. Everyone can attest to the fact that the senior Wickham considered Bernard his son and heir. It cannot be contested—there can be no grounds for this complaint.”
The earl cleared his throat. “The fact that a mere steward could call his son an ‘heir’ to anything does raise the question, I suppose. But I cannot see how anyone could succeed legally with such an argument.”
“Perhaps that is not the complainant’s objective. Blackening my family’s name would do.”
The earl’s features hardened. “I think you know where to start looking for this troublemaker. See it hushed up, Darcy.”
Darcy gestured with the note. “I will keep this, if you do not object.”
“By all means. I trust I will hear no more of the matter.”
Darcy took tea with his aunt and cousin, although the earl declined to join them. Lady Matlock employed the time fretting about Richard and his scandalously small flat—after all, as a married man, he ought to have given it up in search of a better situation. Lady Sophia heartily added her sentiments that the marital estate ought to increase wealth at each essay, and that a married man who still sought to live economically was nothing short of a disgrace.
Darcy merely sipped his tea and kept his own counsel.
