Elizabeth’s back was ramrod straight as she sat in the earl’s study, hands clasped tightly in her lap to keep from fidgeting. The room felt stifling despite its size, the heavy air made worse by the earl’s calm, deliberate tone as he addressed them. Mr. Darcy sat across from her, silent and inscrutable, though she could feel his gaze flicking toward her now and then.
“Miss Bennet,” the earl began, exhaling a faint stream of cigar smoke, “I expect you are unaware of the full consequences of last evening’s... misstep.”
Elizabeth’s cheeks heated to scalding, but she held her chin high. “I am aware that it caused you inconvenience, my lord, and for that, I have apologized.”
The earl chuckled softly, a sound that sent a chill down her spine. “It was rather more than an inconvenience, Miss Bennet. You were observed mingling with the French minister and his entourage, speaking with Lapointe himself, and later intercepting a note that contained highly sensitive information. All of this occurred in a room full of witnesses, many of whom are not as inclined as I to believe in coincidence.”
She tried to swallow, but failed. “I did not know who Monsieur Lapointe was when he spoke to me. And I have explained the matter of the note—it fell, and I—”
“You picked it up,” the earl finished for her, his voice clipped. “Yes, I am aware. And yet, appearances, Miss Bennet, are often far more important than intentions. The appearance of a young woman in your position speaking to a French dignitary at such a moment, then handling a note with the words ‘prisoner exchange’ written on it, is... problematic.”
Uncle Gardiner cleared his throat, his face tight with restrained anger. “My lord, I must protest. My niece is an innocent young lady. Surely no one would seriously believe—”
The earl held up a hand, silencing him. “I do not question your niece’s innocence, Mr. Gardiner, but it is not my opinion that matters. Others—those who witnessed the events—are less charitable. Whispers have already begun, and while I may investigate the truth—a matter I have already undertaken—I cannot control the tongues of others.”
Elizabeth gripped the fabric of her gown tightly, her knuckles whitening. “What do you mean, ‘investigate the truth?’”
The earl cleared his throat and flicked some ash from his cigar. “Your father, Miss Bennet.”
She blinked. “What of my father, my lord? You have said I am in a precarious position. Are you suggesting that my father—my family—have done something to invite suspicion?”
The earl leaned back in his chair, regarding her with a faint smile that made her blood simmer. “Your father,” he said, “has been investigated.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened, and she sat forward sharply. “Investigated? How could you possibly—”
“How?” the earl interrupted, the faint amusement in his tone making her bristle. “Eton and Cambridge, Miss Bennet. Any man of property, no matter how modest, is bound to be a recognizable figure among those who attended both schools. His reputation as an indolent, bookish man with little inclination for politics or intrigue is well known. It took little effort to confirm his character.”
Elizabeth flushed, her indignation bubbling over. “And you consider that sufficient cause to pry into my family’s affairs? Into my father’s life?”
“It was not prying, Miss Bennet, merely due diligence. Your father is an honest man, but he is not entirely without curiosities. For instance, he does not use his brother-in-law in Meryton for legal matters, though it would seem the logical choice. Instead, he relies on a man of business here in London—one with whom I just happen to be familiar. An unusual arrangement, is it not?”
Elizabeth stared at him, utterly speechless. How could he know all of this? What sort of reach did this man have?
The earl’s gaze shifted to Mr. Gardiner, then back to Elizabeth. “Your family is no great mystery, Miss Bennet. Five daughters, all unmarried but out, nonetheless, and I suspect their dowries are modest. Your mother’s fortune was respectable enough to supplement the Bennet estate, but divided five ways, it would be... less so.”
“Now see here,” Uncle Gardiner said sharply, his face flushed. “You have no cause to insult my niece or my sister. Whatever the state of their fortune, they deserve respect.”
The earl waved this off with an impatient flick of his hand. “You misunderstand me, Mr. Gardiner. I have no intention of mocking Miss Bennet or her family. On the contrary, I consider her lack of fortune and connections to be... advantageous.”
Elizabeth’s head snapped up, her mouth opening to respond, but no words came. Advantageous? What could he possibly mean?
The earl leaned back in his chair, puffing thoughtfully on his cigar. “Miss Bennet,” he said slowly, his sharp gaze fixed on her, “your situation in life is not without its uses. For my nephew’s sake.”
At this, Mr. Darcy straightened, his expression darkening. “What, precisely, have I to do with any of this?”
The earl smiled faintly, as though he had been waiting for the question. “Quite a lot, as it happens. I am proposing an engagement between the two of you.”
For a moment, silence hung heavy in the room. Elizabeth turned to Darcy, meeting his astonished gaze, and without thinking, they both spoke at once.
“No.”
The earl chuckled. “I expected as much. You are both far too predictable.”
Elizabeth stared at him, her cheeks flaming, as Darcy leaned forward in his chair, his tone clipped. “Uncle, this is absurd.”
The earl held up a hand, silencing him. “Hear me out.” He exhaled a thin stream of smoke before continuing, his tone almost conversational. “It need not be a marriage, if that truly offends you both. A temporary engagement will suffice. In the end, Darcy, you may very well prefer a bride of higher fortune and breeding. And I daresay Miss Bennet would like a husband with some semblance of a personality.”
Elizabeth’s jaw dropped, her indignation flaring instantly. She turned to Darcy, expecting to find him smirking at her expense, but to her surprise, his expression mirrored her own outrage. They both shot matching glares at the earl, who looked entirely unbothered.
“Miss Bennet,” the earl continued, ignoring their reactions, “I have been advising my nephew to stand for Member of Parliament for Derbyshire. However, a successful bid for such a position requires not only competence and connections but also the appearance of stability. A bachelor, no matter how wealthy or upright, is less palatable to voters. A wife—or even a fiancée—provides that impression of solidity.”
Elizabeth’s mind reeled as the earl’s words sank in. “You mean to suggest,” she said slowly, “that Mr. Darcy’s success in Derbyshire politics depends on... me?”
“Precisely. There are local complications that preclude Darcy from choosing a bride from the first circles, as his family had long expected him to. The voters do not trust the old families. They see them as part of the problem. You, Miss Bennet, are unconnected enough to ease such suspicions.”
Elizabeth blinked, momentarily stunned by the audacity of his reasoning. Then she shook her head, her temper flaring. “You just told me last night’s events made me appear suspicious. How does that help anyone?”
The earl chuckled, the sound almost indulgent. “That is easily explained. A simple misunderstanding, nothing more. But your cooperation will be required.”
“And if I refuse?”
The earl shrugged, tapping ash from his cigar. “There is little way to predict how things will unfold. But if you return to Hertfordshire after causing a scandal in London, I would not give much for your sisters’ chances of securing a match anytime soon. Your family’s reputation would suffer.”
Elizabeth’s breath hitched, and she glanced at her uncle, who looked stricken. She swallowed hard, trying to muster some semblance of composure. “And if I cooperate?”
“If you cooperate,” the earl said smoothly, “I will see to it personally—along with Lady Matlock—that your reputation is not only restored but enhanced. You just might come through all of this unscathed.”
Before Elizabeth could respond, Darcy spoke. “Uncle, I fail to see how this scheme of yours would benefit either of us. Miss Bennet’s reputation, already in question thanks to these events, would be utterly ruined by an engagement—especially one as public as you are surely planning—if it were to end after the election. I might recover my position, but she most decidedly would not.”
Elizabeth glanced at him in surprise, but Darcy was glaring at his uncle, his hands gripping the edges of his chair as though to contain his frustration.
The earl laughed softly, the sound low and deliberate. “I already have a quiet, lucrative alternative in mind for Miss Bennet if she agrees.”
The room fell silent. Elizabeth’s pulse thundered in her ears as she tried to make sense of the earl’s words. She dared a glance at Darcy and caught him sneaking a glance at her at the same moment. His gaze darted back to the floor, his fingers tightening on the arms of his chair.
At last, her uncle cleared his throat. “My lord,” Mr. Gardiner said, his tone calm but firm, “this is... a great deal to consider. I would like to discuss the matter with my niece and write to her father before any decisions are made.”
The earl grunted, leaning back in his chair. “Not unreasonable. But I expect an answer in two days’ time.”
“That will not be necessary,” Darcy said sharply, rising to his feet. “I have no intention of participating in this preposterous scheme.”
The earl grinned at his nephew, unperturbed. “We shall see.”
He rose, signaling the end of the discussion, and gestured toward the door. “Hartley will show you out. Mr. Gardiner, I will speak with you again in two days.”
Elizabeth stood stiffly, her thoughts in turmoil as her uncle guided her toward the door. She dared one last glance over her shoulder as they left, and her stomach flipped when she caught Darcy watching her again. He quickly averted his gaze, his jaw tight and his expression stormy.
