Darcy released a breath he had not realized he held.
“She manages much at Longbourn,” Mr. Philips continued, more seriously. “More than a young lady should need to manage. But that is not my story to tell.”
“I see.”
“I doubt you do,” Mr. Philips said dryly, “but perhaps you may one day.”
Darcy accepted the rebuke with a faint, rueful smile. “Would it be proper for me to call at Longbourn? We have been introduced, though not in any meaningful manner, and after the assembly I fear my presence may be unwelcome.”
Mr. Philips considered the matter for a few moments, a small furrow forming on his brow. “There is to be a gathering at Lucas Lodge tomorrow evening. The Netherfield party and the Bennets are both expected. An introduction may be renewed there, andifLizzy allows it, you may have opportunity to apologize.”
“If she allows it,” Darcy repeated.
“Yes. I will not compel her to receive an apology merely to ease your conscience.”
“I would not wish you to.”
“Good.”
The attorney moved toward the door, then paused again, his expression growing solemn. “There is another matter. No one at Longbourn knows what happened in London. Not Mr. Bennet. Not Mrs. Bennet. Not Miss Bennet, unless Lizzy has chosen to speak more recently, which I doubt. Certainly no one knows of the Crown’s arrangements or Netherfield.”
Darcy stilled. “Her parents do not know?”
“No.”
“But her father—”
“Would have legal authority over her in ordinary circumstances. Yes. This is not an ordinary circumstance. The arrangements were made for Lizzy’s protection and for the Gardiner children’s. If certain parties knew what had been placed in her care, they would spend, boast, scheme, or meddle until every safeguard was weakened. Her discretion is the reason the fortune has remained useful rather than dangerous.”
Darcy nodded slowly. He thought of his own father, of debts, arrogance, indulgence, and the ruin one person’s selfishness could spread through an entire estate. He thought of guarding Georgiana’s dowry from creditors and parasites, of Matlock’s careful language around trusts, of the painful necessity of protecting family from family.
“I understand.”
Mr. Philips met his eyes.
“Yes,” he said after a moment. “I believe you do.”
The silence between them was brief, but full of shared knowledge neither man chose to voice. Then Mr. Philips extended his hand.
“I must go. I have delayed your morning long enough.”
Darcy shook his hand. “Thank you for coming to me.”
“I came for Lizzy’s sake,” Mr. Philips said, though his tone had softened. “But I am glad to find I did not misjudge you entirely.”
Darcy deserved that and knew it. “I hope to prove it.”
Mr. Philips gave him one last assessing look, then departed.
Darcy remained standing until the man’s footsteps faded down the hall. Only then did he sink slowly back into his chair.
Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
A gentleman’s daughter.
Living at Longbourn.
The young woman with the Roman coin. The woman with fine eyes. The lady he had insulted before half a country assembly.
