“There may be some truth to that,” Captain Tilney said. “Iknow what you all are hiding, and I can think of two or three amongst you who would desire a more final way to silence my father.”
“Have a care, Fred,” Mr. Tilney said. “If father was silenced, do not make yourself a target.”
“I have nothing to hide,” Mr. Bertram said. “If it will help others be more forthcoming, I shall tell you all what the general knew of me. I have no acquaintance with either of these ladies,so I cannot think how the general knew of what happened in Antigua.”
His sister Mrs. Rushworth gasped. “What happened in Antigua?”
He let out a heavy sigh before addressing the room. “I visited some holdings of my father’s last summer in the West Indies, and I was quite appalled by the conditions of the laborers there, the slaves. I discovered myself to be a most avid abolitionist, as anybody might if they had seen what it was like. During our visit, the plantation was burned to the ground, and I was complicit in the scheme. I made sure that my father and I were able to flee to safety, but I am responsible for the complete loss of the place, though I am not at all ashamed that his slaves were able to escape to freedom in the ensuing ordeal. I would do it again.”
“You are fortunate that yours is a secret that paints you in a favorable light,” Emma said mournfully. Captain Tilney sneered at her, as if there were something for which he wished to make her feel very small, and she shrank back against Harriet once more.
“I had not read your dossier,” Mr. Tilney said to Mr. Bertram. “I hope it will not cost you your inheritance.”
“I wish I was noble enough not to desire such an ill-gotten fortune,” Mr. Bertram replied. “At any rate, there now, I have said it, and perhaps others may choose to be forthcoming.”
“And these dossiers? Why not just have a look at them, if you have not read them all,” Sir Walter suggested.
“I should not wish to for all the world,” Cathy cried. “To know such things seems far too perilous.”
“My secret pertains to my poor mother, and I shall never betray her,” Mr. Rushworth. “She has been a widow since I wasborn, and perhaps she made some errors and miscalculations in the running of our estate, but… oh, tell them, Captain. It cannot be so very bad.”
“I wonder if the captain does know all, else he might simply say which two or three people here in particular who could easily commit a murder,” Mrs. Clay said.
At the same moment, Lady Allen stood up and announced, “I am Miss Morland and Miss Smith’s mother.”
Elizabeth looked between her two new friends in astonishment, the resemblance between Cathy and Harriet now seeming so marked that she wondered how she had not known at once.
Emma smiled at Harriet. “Lady Allen? I always knew it must be someone grand.”
Cathy ran to her. “How can this be?”
“I was betrothed against my own inclination to old Sir James,” Lady Allen said, looking exceedingly agitated. “I was in love with another man, the son of a wealthy merchant, but my father was determined to have a title for me. Edward was so handsome, and well favored at court, and we wanted to run away together. I was already with child, and Edward had gone to India on business with his father. I thought I could say the babe was my husband’s, but we had not yet consummated the marriage before Sir James was called away on business abroad. He had not yet returned when I gave birth to twin girls in secret. Mrs. Morland was my only friend when I left Devon to go to Gloucester, and she had offered to take the child, to say she had borne twins when she delivered her own babe. But she could not take both, for triplets would be too remarkable. My cousin Mrs. Goddard in Surrey had just opened a school for girls, but shecould not afford the expense of two infants, and so each of them took one of my dear girls.”
“I never knew,” Sir Edward said with tears in his eyes. “When I saw Miss Morland I suspected, but Miss Smith, too!”
Lady Allen moved closer to him as he looked between Harriet, Cathy, and Elizabeth. “They are all very like you, Sir Edward.”
He took her hand in his. “I have a title, now, Margaret.”
Cathy and Harriet went toward their parents, and the four of them all studied one another with high emotion until the captain interrupted. “This is all very charming and sentimental, but my father is dead! Perhaps I ought to risk my neck and start saying names.”
There was a tremendous crashing sound and white light lit the room, as if lighting had stuck very nearby. Sir Walter let out an undignified yell as he moved away from the window, and Mrs. Rushworth clung to Mr. Crawford for a moment before recollecting herself.
And then something began to nag at Elizabeth as her uncle and Lady Allen stared at her. “You said they areallvery like him, not that they arebothvery like him.” At her side, Mr. Darcy drew protectively close to Elizabeth, which sent a chill down her spine. If her fear was true….
“My first and only love has been braver than I,” Sir Edward said. “I knew nothing of Margaret’s girls, but she knows that I had another child before I met her. A child that was raised by my sister.”
Elizabeth staggered backward, nearly colliding with Mr. Darcy, who attempted to brace her with his arms. But she could not look at her uncle, could not bear the curious stares of somany strangers as she faced this shocking truth, and she fled into the dining room, where she burst into tears.
There was uproar in the parlor behind her, but Elizabeth paid it no heed as she braced herself with one hand on a chair, gasping for breath as she sobbed into her other hand. She had feared her uncle was hiding far worse, yet she was incapable of any relief at such a moment. And to make matters worse, Mr. Darcy had followed her into the dining room.
“Forgive me,” he said, offering her a handkerchief. “Is there anything I can get for you? Some wine perhaps? Or if you prefer privacy, I can ask my valet to stand guard outside your chamber for safety.”
For a moment Elizabeth could scarcely comprehend his words. She just stared at him, silently sharing the incomprehensible horror of all that had gone awry. And then she was overpowered by her feelings, and lost all possession of herself.
Mr. Darcy frowned in the flickering candlelight, and to her supreme astonishment, he took her in his arms. Elizabeth tensed and he loosened his grasp, but after a moment Elizabeth could only relax into the warmth of him as her body wracked with sobs. “Papa is my father. I love him, he is my Papa,” she cried.
“Of course he is,” Mr. Darcy said softly. “Bingley’s letters are full of what a clever, kind, and amusing fellow Mr. Bennet is. You are every bit his daughter.”
