Elizabeth was no wilting flower, but this appeared to be the limit of her forbearance. “I must beg pardon, gentlemen, but please desist speaking of how Mr. Darcy’s worldly goods will be distributed after his demise,” she said firmly.
“Beg your pardon, Miss Elizabeth,” Fitzwilliam said, and Darcy just offered Elizabeth a penitent look. They all returned to their food.
When Hardiman finished his meal, he stood to depart. “Mr. Darcy, Evans did offer us a direction for Mr. Theophilus Darcy. His quarters are abandoned, but we are now on his trail. When we locate him, you shall have to determine what to do with him. He has insulated himself very well against being connected to any part of these schemes.”
“We still do not understand why he did it,” Elizabeth murmured. She met her father’s eye, then addressed Darcy. “Did your great-uncle, the one who wrote you . . .”
“Horatio Darcy,” Darcy said.
“Yes. Did he keep journals? Papa has kept a journal since he has been at Longbourn.”
He lifted his chin, thinking. “I do not know. I have not had the opportunity to see the study in daylight.”
“Perhaps you might send a letter to Mrs. Reynolds as well?” Miss Elizabeth suggested. “She could send you any journals he kept at Pemberley for the years in question.”
Darcy smiled at her. “Another excellent idea, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” she replied.
Hardiman watched them with interest. “I was about to make the same suggestion.” He glanced at Bennet. “I do not suppose you would be interested in lending Miss Elizabeth to Bow Street, sir?”
Elizabeth blushed. It was an enchanting picture.
“No,” Hardiman continued, “It is Evans who will bear the consequences, and though he has confessed your great-uncle’s part in it, his words will be considered the confession of a felon and will not hold much weight against your uncle without more actual evidence.”
Fitzwilliam stroked his chin in thought.
Darcy knew exactly how his cousin would prefer to take care of Theophilus Darcy, but they were no longer soldiers. Any violent action they took now would not be in the service of the country, but in service of themselves. Theophilus Darcy was an old man. There must be some way to contain him effectively without resorting to arms.
Darcy glanced at his intended.
“You will always be in danger from him,” she said unhappily. “You shall never have peace.” Darcy could see it in her face. If he could never be at peace, neither could she.
Chapter Twenty-Five
AstheyawaitedHardiman’sreports, Darcy focused on two main tasks. First, he began reading through Horatio Darcy’s journals, at least those that remained in London. He wrote Mrs. Reynolds to request that any such records at Pemberley be sent to him in town. Second, he began to work on marriage articles with Bennet.
“This has been far more pleasant an occupation than I expected,” Bennet said with a shake of his head. “For I have had everything my way.”
Darcy chuckled. “What is the contract for if not to ensure Miss Elizabeth’s security?”
“Well said, son,” Bennet replied.
“She did tell me about her fortune when she agreed to have me. I must say I was very impressed with how much you had managed to save.”
“Elizabeth and Jane have more than their sisters at present. As the eldest, I expected them to marry first. I will now have additional funds to add to Mary’s portion, and then Kitty’s, and so on.”
“What would have happened if Miss Lydia had managed to have her come out next year and was married?” Darcy inquired.
Bennet shrugged. “Then she would have gone to her husband with a much smaller fortune, which would not have pleased her. Therefore, she has little incentive to marry the first fellow she fancies.”
Darcy snorted softly. “Strategic.”
“I am outnumbered, Darcy. With five daughters, a precise strategy is my best defence.” Bennet stretched his arms above his head. When he finished, he said, “Now that we have completed our negotiations, perhaps I might help you with that?” He motioned to the journal on Darcy’s desk.
“I have Miss Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam reading them as well, but I would never turn away another pair of eyes,” Darcy admitted. “My great-uncle Horatio was a prolific writer. It has been difficult not to be drawn into his opinions on every major legal and cultural event in the past twenty-five years.”
“A man I should have liked to meet, I think.”