Page 150 of Mr. Darcy’s Diamonds

“No. As I said, my superiors have chosen to ignore their existence. You can take care of that at your leisure.”

Darcy nodded. “I feel like the duke may be owed some of these, or Elizabeth. But they are also yours.”

“I appreciate that, Darcy, and will take a few stones happily, but first settle your own future with Lady Elizabeth. You are no fun to be around at present.”

“Right. My apologies.”

Elizabeth had not seen Fitzwilliam for days, and she worried he thought of her differently now and no longer wished for her company. At first, she had thought he would be elated to learn of her change in social status, but perhaps he had preferred the idea of rescuing her from her lowly position. Was that what had attracted him to her, after all? With his fortune and connections, he could have married anyone, but he had chosen her. It had been confusing, but she had believed in his love. Had it all been nothing but a chivalric impulse after all? Had he lost interest in her now that she did not require saving by a gallant paladin?

She hoped she was only being silly, but why had he not spoken to her since telling her about her family, and why did he now keep away? Grandfather said he had not even seen Fitzwilliam, though he was staying in his home. Could he have left London again without telling her?

Uncle Bennet planned to return to Longbourn on Monday, and she had hoped to have their engagement settled before then. He had told her the day before that he was happy to give his consent for their marriage now but that she should consult her grandfather about the details. Her uncle was her legal guardian, but he hoped to please the duke by offering the choice between the reading of the banns or common license, as Fitzwilliam had at first requested.

None of that mattered if Fitzwilliam no longer wished to marry her.

Chapter Sixty-Two

When Darcy returned home Friday evening after speaking with Richard, he put the diamonds in his safe and then sought out the duke. His servants informed him he had retired early, requesting dinner in his rooms. It was not so late yet that he could not call on Elizabeth, he decided.

He interrupted the Gardiners’ dinner hour, and after apologizing, he was invited to join them. Elizabeth gave him a strained smile, and his heart lurched. He feared she had already decided to seek a husband elsewhere. He attempted to make light conversation with her uncles and aunt, but Elizabeth was quiet.

After the meal, he was grateful to be granted more privacy than they had had in weeks when her uncles began a game of chess, and her aunt watched.

They wordlessly sat several inches apart on the settee, and he knew not how to begin. The last time he had spoken to her more than “good evening” was when he had held her hand and told her news that had changed everything for her.

“How are you? Knowing about your parents, I mean? Does it grieve you anew to lose them?”

Elizabeth appeared as surprised as he was by his questions.

“I have been overjoyed to know my grandfather. I did not know of his existence, of course, but part of my joy in knowing him is to have a weight removed from me in knowing who my parents were. We have had some tearful conversations, thinking of what could have been, but overall, we have chosen to embrace what we have now.”

We. She meant herself and her grandfather. They were planning a life together. Without him.

“Will you go to Yorkshire?”

“At some point. We have not made specific plans.”

“Will you remain in London for a while, then?”

Their speech was stilted, awkward, polite. Nothing like their usual comfortable conversations. They did not even look at each other beyond the occasional glance.

“Yes. Is this about my grandfather staying with you? He is considering leasing a townhouse for the Season. He has one, but he has had tenants there for years.”

“No, no. His Grace is welcome to remain. It is only…does he wish for his own home so you may reside with him?”

“Oh, he did not mention it, but I suppose I could. It would be difficult to leave the lively Gardiner home, though.” She forced a laugh.

“It would be more convenient for His Grace to meet your suitors in his own home.”

“My suitors?” Elizabeth appeared to be surprised by the notion.

“Surely you understand you will have many as soon as your true situation is known.”

She looked over his shoulder, where nothing resided but a window highlighting the dark night. “Are you, then, withdrawing your own suit? Have you changed your mind about our engagement?” She spoke firmly, sounding every bit the granddaughter of a duke.

Darcy swallowed. “I wish only for your happiness, Lady Elizabeth. You must know that. Nothing has changed for me except the knowledge that others now have a greater claim on you.”

“Nothing has changed?” Her tone had softened. Her voice trembled, and she dared a glance at his face.