Chapter Twelve
The committee met in Hargreave's chambers on a bright April morning, three weeks after Darcy's ride to Longbourn, and Elizabeth arrived with him, uninvited and entirely unmoved by the solicitor's evident consternation at finding a young woman of no fortune seated calmly in his waiting room.
"This is highly irregular," Hargreave said, for the third time, as Lady Catherine and the Earl took their places at the long table.
"So is a trust that punishes a man for marrying where he loves," Elizabeth said, pleasant and entirely unbothered, "but I understand irregularity is rather the theme of the morning."
Lady Catherine's eyes narrowed at her, though something in the set of her mouth suggested she had expected, even anticipated, precisely this kind of nerve. "Miss Bennet. I did not think you would have the audacity to appear."
"I did not think your ladyship would have the audacity to threaten a sixteen-year-old girl's inheritance over a rumor you never troubled to verify," Elizabeth said, "and yet here we both are."
A brief, startled silence followed this. The Earl, Fitzwilliam's father, cleared his throat with the particular discomfort of a man who suspected he was about to enjoy himself more than the occasion strictly warranted.
"Miss Bennet," he said, "perhaps you would care to explain yourself."
"Gladly." Elizabeth rose, and though her hands were not perfectly steady, her voice did not waver.
"I understand this committee exists to protect Miss Darcy's inheritance from imprudence.
I would ask you to consider what imprudence has actually occurred this past year.
Mr. Darcy cleared a young man's gambling debts to remove a danger from a neighborhood.
He arranged a transfer to separate a troublesome officer from a family with no means to protect themselves otherwise.
He drove three hours out of his way to pull my youngest sister from the edge of ruin, and asked for nothing, not even his own name, in return.
" She let that land before continuing. "I would ask this committee, in all honesty, whether that sounds like a man governed by imprudent passion, or a man who has spent a full year quietly doing the work of a better guardian than most of the men in this room have managed. "
Lady Catherine's mouth tightened. "Pretty words, Miss Bennet, but they do not alter the terms of a legal document."
"No," Elizabeth agreed. "But I understand the terms require his marriage to meet this committee's approval, not your ladyship's alone.
I would ask the Earl, and Mr. Hargreave, whether they find greater imprudence in a man who loves quietly and acts generously, or in a man who might, under different guardianship, have married for connection alone and given his sister nothing but a fortune and a cold house to grow up in. "
The Earl was watching her now with open interest, something that might, in a less formal setting, have been amusement. "You argue your case well, Miss Bennet."
"I have had cause to think about it a great deal this past year, my lord."
Darcy, silent beside her through all of this, reached over and took her hand beneath the table, his grip fierce and steady, and Elizabeth felt the whole of her nerve settle at the touch of it.
Hargreave shuffled his papers, cleared his throat.
"The codicil requires approval, not unanimous approval, provided a majority of the committee concurs.
I have reviewed the language again this week.
" He glanced at Lady Catherine, something almost apologetic in the look.
"Your ladyship's objection alone would not, strictly, be sufficient to block the match, should the Earl and I find no fault in it. "
Lady Catherine's face went through several expressions in rapid succession, settling finally on something taut and furious. "You would defy me on this."
"I would follow the law as written, your ladyship," Hargreave said, with the particular stubbornness of a man who had spent thirty years hiding behind exactly that phrase.
The Earl leaned forward, addressing Darcy directly for the first time.
"Fitzwilliam. I have known you since you were a boy.
I watched you grow into a man who takes his responsibilities more seriously than is entirely good for him.
I confess I find it difficult to believe such a man would gamble his sister's security lightly, whatever my sister's fears on the subject.
" He glanced at Elizabeth, something evaluating in the look, and finding, apparently, what he sought.
"Miss Bennet has made her case rather better than I expected. "
"She generally does," Darcy said, and something in his voice, quiet and warm, made Elizabeth's breath catch despite the tension still thick in the room.
Lady Catherine rose, gathering her gloves with sharp, angry movements.
"I see I am outvoted. I will not pretend to be pleased by it.
" She fixed Elizabeth with a long, assessing look, and something in it, grudging and unwilling, might almost have been respect.
"You have more spine than I credited you with, Miss Bennet.
I do not withdraw my objection easily, and I do not withdraw it now out of any change of heart.
But I will not stand in the way of a majority I cannot overturn. "
She swept from the room without further ceremony, and the silence she left behind was, Elizabeth thought, considerably easier to breathe in than her presence had been.
"Well," said the Earl, into the quiet that followed. "I believe that concludes our business, Hargreave, unless you have further objection."
"None, my lord." Hargreave was already drawing fresh paper toward him, his relief poorly concealed. "I will draw up the necessary approval this afternoon."
Darcy's hand tightened around Elizabeth's beneath the table, and when she turned to look at him, she found his face open in a way she had rarely seen it, every careful guard finally, fully lowered.
"You did not need to do that," he said, low, meant only for her. "I would have fought them myself."
"I know." She smiled, small and fierce. "But I have spent five months being fought for, quietly, in secret, without ever being asked what I wanted. I thought it was time I fought for something myself, in the open, where you could actually watch me do it."
His answering smile was the first entirely unguarded thing she had ever seen from him, and it undid her more completely than any letter, any rescue, any quiet act of unclaimed kindness ever had.