Chapter 22 The Inheritance of Distrust #2
“Added in 1790, just months before the fire.” Blythewood’s tone conveyed his professional assessment of this timing. “The addition specifically names ‘any child, male or female, born to John Darcy’ as rightful heir, superseding the secondary line.”
Darcy absorbed this with growing disquiet. “And this addition—it is legally binding?”
“That,” Blythewood said carefully, “would be a matter of considerable debate, should it ever reach the courts. The irregular circumstances of its creation present several avenues for challenge.”
“Such as?”
“Your grandfather’s mental competence at the time, for one. He suffered an apoplectic fit in early 1789 that left him significantly weakened. Such conditions frequently impair judgment and increase susceptibility to external influence.”
“External influence,” Darcy repeated. “You mean my aunt, Rose Bennet Darcy.”
“By all accounts, your grandmother was equally enamored with your aunt. Mrs. Rose Darcy apparently spent many hours reading to them both, playing the pianoforte, and singing. Providing comfort during a difficult time.” Blythewood’s tone suggested he found such activities suspiciously calculated.
“When a child was born the following year—a daughter, no less—both grandparents were reportedly besotted with the infant.”
“Elizabeth Rose,” Darcy murmured, the name feeling strange on his lips.
“Indeed. They refused to accept reports of her death. Insisted that arrangements for her inheritance be maintained despite all evidence that she had perished in the fire.”
Darcy paced the confines of the office, his mind racing. “And now a young woman appears, claiming to be that same child, twenty years later. What legal standing would such a claim have?”
Blythewood considered for a moment. “Without substantial evidence, very little. She would need to prove not only her identity as the daughter of John and Rose Darcy, but also demonstrate that the fee tail female addition was valid despite the circumstances of its creation. Both present considerable hurdles.”
“In your professional opinion, could this amendment be successfully challenged?”
“Certainly. The circumstances of its creation provide multiple grounds for appeal—diminished mental capacity, undue influence, irregular procedure. There were those who suggested that Mrs. Darcy’s influence over the family’s legal arrangements was inappropriate and mercenary.
Moreover, the current situation strengthens your position considerably. ”
“How so?”
“Miss Bennet’s association with Martha Wickham severely undermines any credibility she might claim.
Mrs. Wickham’s original testimony stated unequivocally that all three family members perished in the fire.
Her current claims directly contradict her previous sworn statements.
” Blythewood leaned forward with the satisfaction of a man delivering decisive intelligence.
“No court would accept the testimony of a witness who has perjured herself so blatantly.”
“Yet Mrs. Wickham might argue that she lied originally to protect the child.”
“An explanation that cannot be verified. Moreover, what credible evidence exists that Miss Bennet is indeed Elizabeth Rose Darcy? Family resemblance proves nothing—she is acknowledged to be Rose Bennet’s niece, which would account for any similarity of features.”
“Her father, Mr. Bennet, could still testify,” Darcy noted, trying to find relief as Elizabeth’s vulnerabilities were exposed.
“He is not a disinterested party. The burden of proof lies on her shoulders and would have to be extraordinarily compelling to overcome the presumption in favor of the current possessor.” Blythewood’s expression softened slightly.
“Mr. Darcy, I have served your family for many years. It is my professional opinion that Miss Bennet’s claim, whatever its basis in fact, could be effectively challenged through legal means if necessary. ”
“What course of action do you recommend?”
“Treat Miss Bennet as the imposter she undoubtedly is. Refuse to acknowledge any claim to the estate, and force her to pursue legal remedies that will exhaust whatever resources she possesses. Most importantly, do not allow sentiment or misplaced sympathy to compromise your family’s interests.”
“Even if she were indeed my missing cousin?”
“A young woman of limited means could not sustain the court proceedings. Justice is what the courts determine it to be. Her position is untenable. She will eventually be forced to abandon her pretensions and return to whatever obscure existence she occupied before this scheme was devised.”
“She has until her twenty-first birthday to make her claim, correct?” Darcy asked, recalling this detail from his earlier research.
“To initiate proceedings, yes. But the case itself could continue indefinitely.” Blythewood’s tone suggested this was a feature rather than a flaw. “Courts move at their own pace, Mr. Darcy. A pace that favors those with patience and means.”
Darcy nodded, processing this information with growing disquiet. The strategy Blythewood outlined was eminently practical and legally sound. If Elizabeth were indeed an imposter, she would withdraw her claims once she realized the cost of pursuing this falsehood.
“There is one complication,” he said slowly. “Miss Bennet has claimed that whoever killed my uncle and aunt may still pose a danger to anyone investigating their deaths. If her identity becomes widely known…”
“If she is who she claims to be, which I doubt, then exposure would indeed be dangerous. If she is an imposter, then such claims are merely part of her strategy to gain sympathy and support.” Blythewood’s expression grew stern.
“Mr. Darcy, the fact that she is exposing herself and investigating a twenty-year-old tragedy speaks to her guilt. She is not fearful for her life, and she cannot truly believe she can overturn the male entail. Mark my words, she is seeking a settlement. Counting on embarrassment, gossip, and the threat to your father’s reputation to coerce you to send her and Mrs. Wickham on their way with a tidy sum. ”
“I might have considered a small settlement.” Darcy scratched his chin.
“However, this doesn’t explain Mr. Bingley claiming a right to court Miss Bennet.
Similarly, Martha Wickham insists that Miss Bennet marry her son in exchange for her written testimony, suggesting they believe Miss Bennet’s claim. ”
Blythewood’s eyebrow rose with pronounced skepticism.
“I would caution you against placing too much trust in the Bingleys. Your father trusted Benjamin Bingley implicitly, and while I would never speak ill of the dead…” He let the implication hang delicately in the air.
“Business partnerships often create strange alliances. The current generation of Bingleys may have motives beyond what appears on the surface.”
He straightened the papers on his desk with precise movements.
“As for the Wickhams, their ambitions hardly count in matters of this magnitude. Their station precludes them from any significant influence in legal proceedings. Mrs. Wickham likely seeks to advance her son through marriage to someone she believes might secure a substantial settlement. A mercenary arrangement, but hardly evidence of Miss Bennet’s legitimate claim. ”
“Are you suggesting, then, that the Wickhams, the Bingleys, and the Bennets have conspired together to present Miss Elizabeth Bennet as the rightful heir?”
Blythewood nodded curtly. “Precisely. I recommend three immediate actions: evict Mrs. Wickham from Rose Cottage, distance yourself from the Bingleys until this matter is resolved, and return Miss Bennet to her family in Hertfordshire with all due haste.”
“There will be talk,” Darcy hesitated. “Mrs. Wickham’s slander and the upcoming All Hallows’ Eve celebrations Miss Bingley is planning. No doubt the village matrons will be visiting my sister.”
“The gossip and rumors will die down, Mr. Darcy.” Blythewood’s tone took on a fatherly quality.
“They always do. What endures is your responsibility to preserve the Pemberley legacy for your own line.” He paused meaningfully.
“Which brings me to another matter—you would be well advised to seek a suitable bride soon. A legitimate heir of your own would protect the estate from distant cousins who might suddenly appear with… dubious claims.”
And there it was. Another inducement to seek a bride from his own station who could add to his legacy, not detract from it.
Not Elizabeth. She’d compromised any standing she might have had as a gentleman’s daughter by this ill-advised scheme, and if she were indeed his cousin, well, his aunt Catherine would never forgive him for not marrying his cousin Anne.
“I shall consider your counsel,” he said. “Thank you for your frankness in these matters.”
“My duty is to serve the Darcy family interests, sir. As it has been for three generations.”