All too soon, everyone gathered behind closed doors in the family sitting room, where the tea service had already been set out. Lady Julia greeted her son as he entered. “Richard,I am glad to see you again so soon although I wish it were under different circumstances. From the letter you sent about Andrew’s death, I gather this conversation will not be a pleasant one. Am I correct in assuming his vices finally caught up with him?”
Her voice wavered slightly, and her red-rimmed, puffy eyes betrayed her grief. Her hair was styled neatly in a simple chignon, a far cry from the fashionably groomed appearance she always displayed in London. She turned to greet her other guests. “Darcy, Elizabeth, welcome to Matlock. Again, I wish the circumstances could have been better, but I am pleased to welcome you here. Allow me to introduce you to my father, Edmund Hawthorne, the Marquess of Greystone,” she said, finishing the introductions. Darcy had met the gentleman once or twice in London, but had rarely had much contact with him.
Once everyone was seated, with a cup of tea or something stronger in hand, Lord Hawthorne broke the silence. “Enough of this equivocation. Richard, tell us what has happened to Andrew and anything else we need to know. You and Darcy have exchanged far too many glances for me not to suspect my daughter’s husband has done something I am not going to care for.”
Fitzwilliam grimaced at his grandfather, drawing in a deep breath. “You are not going to like what I have to say. Not at all.”
He then began to recount everything he had learned over the past weeks and months, concluding with his brother’s confession and Anne’s letter, both of which confirmed the marquess’s worst fears. The revelation of Lord Matlock’s involvement in such an immoral scheme left them both stunned. To learn that the entire family was now at risk of scandaland that the viscount had been killed in what appeared to be retribution was almost more than they could bear.
When Fitzwilliam finished speaking, a heavy silence fell over the room. The tension was palpable as Lord Hawthorne absorbed the revelations, his face growing darker with every passing moment. Then, without warning, he erupted.
“How dare he!” Lord Hawthorne thundered, slamming his hand against the arm of his chair. “That wretched scoundrel dared to disgrace this family—and my daughter—with his reckless, conniving schemes!” His voice rose with each word, his fury evident as the vein in his temple pulsed visibly.
Lady Julia flinched but remained composed, clutching her teacup tightly. “Father, please,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “This is not the time for anger. We must focus on what can be done now. I feel certain Richard and Darcy would not have asked to speak of these things unless they had some idea of what could be done to set things right.”
“Set things right?” he bellowed, turning his glare on her. “How, Julia? How can we possibly set this right when Matlock has dragged his entire family into the mud? Andrew—my grandson—killed because of his father’s greed? If this becomes known in society, then your whole family is ruined, and perhaps even the Darcy name and mine as well. Your husband has, in essence, committed treason against the Crown. Not only could they imprison him, but they could imprison you as well. They could seize the estate and every asset belonging to Matlock, possibly even your dowry.”
With a calm voice, Darcy interjected, “My Lord, anger will not undo what has been done. We must focus on mitigating the damage and protecting the family’s name. If there are resourceshidden as Anne suggested, we must locate them and determine how best to proceed.”
Lord Hawthorne’s sharp gaze shifted to Darcy. “You think that will solve this? Even if the funds exist, they will not erase the scandal or Andrew’s death!”
Fitzwilliam stepped in, his tone measured. “Grandfather, no solution will undo the harm he has caused, but we cannot allow it to grow worse. If we do nothing, the creditors will come for us, and the family’s name will be irreparably tarnished. Anne’s letter is our best lead. We must act on it.”
For a moment, Lord Hawthorne said nothing, his expression torn between anger and resignation. Finally, he exhaled sharply, the fire in his eyes dimming slightly. “Very well. Show me the letter. If there is a chance to salvage this mess, we shall take it. But mark my words, Richard—if Matlock were here now, I would see to it that he paid for his betrayal in full.”
Fitzwilliam nodded grimly, exchanging a glance with Darcy. After a moment, Darcy spoke, carefully outlining the plan he had initially dreamt up but that had been augmented by his cousin and wife.
“We must first determine the legitimacy of the debt—whether it is truly owed to creditors or business partners—and, if it is real, pay it off to avoid further scandal. Once that is settled, Matlock must disappear.” He paused, glancing at Lord Hawthorne to gauge his reaction before continuing.
“If I recall correctly, he has a hunting lodge in Scotland. I own a sheep farm not far from Glencoe, and there are certainly other remote locations where he could be sent. We believe that, together with the two of you, we can persuade him thatvanishing is in his best interests. With him out of the picture, Richard could take on the responsibilities of the viscount and make Matlock solvent again.”
Darcy’s expression darkened slightly as he added, “Perhaps, after a few years, we can allow word to spread that the earl has passed away. At that time, Richard would formally inherit the earldom.”
He hesitated briefly before concluding, “As for the funds Lady Catherine might have hidden away, we must say nothing of them to the earl. Our strategy depends on his continuing belief that he is in danger and reliant on us for protection.”
Lord Hawthorne’s lips pressed into a thin line, his brow furrowed in thought. “A bold plan,” he admitted, his tone begrudging. “But if it ensures the survival of this family and its honour, I will consider it. However, this is not a decision to take lightly. You had best be certain Matlock will comply.”
Fitzwilliam leant forward, his voice steady. “We believe he will. His survival—and what little dignity he has left—depends on it. But we will need your support, Grandfather. Father is far more likely to listen to you than he is to Darcy or me. You know he still fears you, not to mention you have the political power to see that it is done. Mother, you will need to spread the rumour that he is ill and has gone away for his health. Of course, you will be in mourning for some time, and that will further add to the veracity of your story.”
Lord Hawthorne exhaled sharply, the weight of the situation bearing down on him. “Then let us see to it that this is done properly. No loose ends, no room for error.”
Darcy and Fitzwilliam exchanged a glance at that comment, their relief evident in their expressions at having secured the agreement of the room. Darcy, feeling the tension ease slightly, leant back in his seat and instinctively reached for his wife’s hand. His fingers brushed lightly against hers before entwining, his thumb tracing gentle patterns on her skin.
The quiet intimacy did not go unnoticed. Fitzwilliam grinned openly, his amusement evident, while Lady Julia tilted her head, a soft curiosity flickering in her gaze. Lord Hawthorne, seated across from them, arched his brows nearly to his hairline at the unguarded display of affection.
“You and your wife have been married only a short while, I believe?” Lord Hawthorne remarked suddenly, his tone a mixture of curiosity and mild disbelief.
Startled, both Darcy and Elizabeth turned towards him, as if only now remembering they were not alone. Elizabeth’s cheeks coloured slightly, but she answered with poise, her voice steady. “We were married in October, my lord.”
“An elopement, was it not?” Lord Hawthorne pressed, his sharp gaze fixed on her.
Elizabeth straightened, her chin lifting almost imperceptibly. “Indeed, it was,” she replied, meeting his eyes without hesitation.
Darcy, still holding her hand, added calmly, “Circumstances dictated the necessity, my lord. It was not a decision made lightly. We had already been separated for many years due to the intervention of others and refused to allow them to keep us apart any longer.”
Lord Hawthorne’s eyes narrowed slightly, his expression inscrutable as he regarded them both. “Hmm,” he murmured, his tone neither approving nor condemning. “Did my son-in-law have anything to do with that?”
“Not as far as we are aware. It was Lady Catherine although Elizabeth’s father allowed himself to be manipulated into keeping us apart,” Darcy explained.
