Page 171 of Honor Requires

The legal formalities that followed served to unite, in name as well as in fact, the several lives he had lived. As Sebastian Fitzwilliam George Dantès Darcy, he acquired Pemberley, and all that had once been entrusted to his care. In that single act, the man he had been, the man he had become, and the man he hoped to be were joined together. Pemberley was his again—not by inheritance alone, but by deliberate choice, and with the willing consent of the sister for whom he would have sacrificed everything.

At Matlock House, a different sort of activity prevailed.

Wedding plans had a way of taking hold with remarkable speed, particularly when guided by those who considered themselves both experienced and determined. Lady Bramley and the countess, once recovered from the shock of Darcy’s return, had seized upon the forthcoming union with an enthusiasm that left little room for delay.

“It must be done properly,” Darcy’s aunt declared, her tone brooking no argument. “There has been enough irregularity. We shall have everything in order.”

Jane, though more gentle in her approach, was no less committed. “The breakfast shall be here,” she said, her eyes bright with satisfaction. “We cannot have it elsewhere.”

Elizabeth, seated beside her, smiled with a composure that did little to conceal her amusement.

Darcy listened to these arrangements with a mixture of gratitude and mild astonishment. “I fear,” he said at one point, “that I shall have little say in the matter.”

“You will have the best of everything,” Lady Bramley replied. “That is all the say you require.”

Elizabeth glanced at him, her eyes alight. “You see,” she murmured, “you are quite overruled.”

He inclined his head. “I submit myself to their authority.”

She laughed happily.

The date was set for two months hence. It seemed both near and impossibly distant, though Darcy found that the anticipation of it brought with it a sense of steadiness he had not known in years. Elizabeth had written to her parents, though she assured him that her consent was not dependent upon theirs.

“They will be pleased,” she said. “Even if they are astonished.”

Darcy did not doubt it.

That evening, he returned to Ashcombe House.

Lucien awaited him in the drawing room, his posture relaxed, though his gaze sharpened as Darcy entered.

“Well?” he asked. Darcy’s adopted brother had absented himself of late, choosing to allow reunions to occur without his presence.

Darcy removed his gloves, positioning them aside with deliberate action. “It is arranged,” he said. “Georgiana has agreed. The solicitor has drawn up the necessary papers.”

Lucien’s expression warmed. “Then it is truly done.”

“It seems to be so,” Darcy replied. He crossed to the mantel, resting one hand lightly upon it as he considered his next words. “Georgiana will retain Darcy House,” he said. “It is her home as much as it was ever mine. I see no reason to alter that.”

Lucien nodded. “And you?”

“Ashcombe House will remain mine, as we agreed,” Darcy said. “Though I do not expect to reside here often.”

Lucien’s brow lifted. “You prefer Derbyshire.”

“I do.”

“And Elizabeth?”

Darcy grinned. “She prefers it as well.”

Lucien smiled faintly. “Then I see no difficulty.”

“There is none,” Darcy said. “You are, of course, free to do as you wish. Remain here, purchase another house, or come to Pemberley.”

Lucien considered this.

“I think,” he said slowly, “that I shall accompany you to Derbyshire.”