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“Elizabeth is alive and well at Pemberley. That is why I asked you to accompany me there. The woman buried was a maid who perished in the fire. She had no family to mourn her.”

Mr. Williamson drank one brandy and part of another before he felt well enough to comment. His colour had improved, and he sat up, no longer slouched down in the chair, which made William relax somewhat.

“I ... may I ask why you decided to share this with me, especially in light of the decision to tell as few people as necessary to assure her safety?”

William tried to keep his voice from trembling, but his discomposure was not lost on the cleric. “I needed to ask a favour of you; but to be totally honest, some things have changed since I wrote the letter asking you to come.”

The vicar’s brow knit as he gave William his undivided attention.

“To explain, Elizabeth and I are in love—have been in love with each other for years. We wish to spend the rest of our lives together and ...” He hesitated, wondering at the vicar’s response.

Williamson’s eyebrows rose. “And?”

“We want children.”

To William’s relief, the look on the man’s face was not one of censure, but loving concern as he nodded solemnly. “Oh, I see.”

He squeezed William’s arm, studying him. “And you wish for me to conduct a ceremony?”

William nodded, his eyes imploring, “That was why I asked you to come—to beg you to let us pledge our love and devotion to each other in front of you and God, knowing full well that it may never be recognised by society or even by the church.”

The young man’s earnestness brought tears to the vicar’s eyes. Seldom had he witnessed love so devout, though he had performed marriages for scores of people in his lifetime. Even so, his mind swirled with the consequences of what was being asked of him.

William interrupted his thoughts. “Although it does not change my intentions towards Elizabeth, since arriving in London, I have learned new truths concerning her marriage. My uncle has been searching for the man who married my cousin two years ago, stole her valuables, and promptly abandoned her. It happens that the man is Count Stefano, the same man who took Elizabeth.”

The vicar’s eyes blazed. “How did the blackguard accomplish that?”

“According to his father, the count used trickery to fool several women into thinking they were married to him, when they were not. He could not legally marry anyone, as he was a married man when he came here from Italy. In any event, he would convince his victim to start out for Gretna Green to elope, but during the journey, he would drug her, and take her elsewhere. Using a forged marriage certificate and wedding ring, he would convince her that a marriage had taken place. After squandering her fortune and valuables, he would abandon her to begin again with a different victim.”

“But Lizzybet would never have gone with him, and she had no fortune!”

William’s eyes closed in torment. “No. Count Stefano fancied himself in love with her and forced her compliance for selfish reasons.”

“I may be a man of the cloth, but should I ever encounter that—”

William swiftly laid a hand on his shoulder. “I assure you the pleasure will be mine. I intend to challenge him.”

“Just beware. His proficiency with weapons was well-known around Meryton.”

“I am not afraid.”

Seeing the steely resolve in William’s blue eyes, he responded, “No, I imagine you are not.” The vicar’s face began to soften. “You realise that if she was never Count Stefano’s wife, then all your previous fears are for naught, as there is nothing to stop me from officiating over a marriage between the two of you. Of course, marrying Elizabeth Bennet could still invite gossip and possible censure.”

“My only fear is life without her—censure, I would gladly bear,” William stated decisively before a slight smile crept across his face. “Only my desire to keep her safe would keep me from shouting from the rooftops that Elizabeth Bennet is mine. But, in that regard, I have taken care to protect her.”

Williamson’s brow rose. “Oh?”

William walked over to his desk, opened a drawer and pulled out a piece of paper and a small box. He held the paper out to Mr. Williamson, who took it and smiled as the young man offered, “My connections were sufficient to procure this special license expediently.”

The vicar read the paper, murmuring solemnly. “One life, held captive by greed, ends as another life, born of unselfish, unstoppable love begins. Fitzwilliam Alexander George Darcy shall be united in marriage to Elizabeth Elise Lawrence.”

Glancing at the box William still held in his hand, he motioned. “And this is the ring?”

William opened the small case to reveal an emerald and diamond wedding ring set in an intricate pattern, with alternating stones circling the entire gold band. “It was my mother’s.”

“Lizzybet will love it, I am confident. Green was always her favourite colour.” He sobered then. “May I say that my heart broke for you when I stumbled upon you in the cemetery that day? Your love for her was irrefutable and your grief so palpable that it prompted my own sorrow to return full force. You have no idea how pleased I am that you and she have found each other.”

William coloured. “I believe I loved her from first sight, though, in my stupidity, I would not allow myself to consider offering for her.”