Chapter 3 #2
“I did not know my stepfather was an earl,” she said.
“I believed him a gentleman of business, and my mother allowed me to believe that. After my mother died, I tried my very best to care for my sisters. There was no income. My mother left a few pieces of jewelry, which I sold to keep us fed and decent. We were at the limit of what I could contrive.” She bit her lip to stop herself from rambling on, then held up the letter.
“A few months ago, I found this among Mama’s papers. ”
He extended no hand. “Read it aloud.”
Darcy swallowed. His indifferent manner made it difficult for her to maintain her composure. She unfolded the paper and steadied her voice.
“Dearest Darcy,
I have not been well, and I fear I may not be with you much longer to care for everyone.
My heart has carried a weight I can no longer bear.
I worry for my girls. James and I had many plans to prepare you all for the future, for we know how unjust the world can be to those who are illegitimate.
My girls never asked for this, and I should have been wiser, but I fell in love with James, and my logic would not agree with my heart.
James had determined to settle a dowry for each of you, including you, my dear.
There is a saying that while man plans, God laughs, and it feels apt, for less than a week after telling me of his intention, he died.
I have done my utmost to press on without him, yet I am at a loss as to how to secure your futures.
The burden has lain heavy upon my heart, for I cannot bear to think of my girls exposed to indignity.
You know too well how the world deals with females who have no protection, and worse, with those born out of wedlock: few doors open, fewer remain open, and the best endeavors are met with cold civility and disgraceful propositions.
I fear there is little a child so marked may hope to achieve without the countenance of a good family and a gentleman’s aid.
What you and the girls do not know is that James was an earl.
Forgive us for keeping this from you. He was the Earl of Raine, and he had a son he loved deeply.
When I am gone, I hope you will be braver than I have been.
I have enclosed their London and principal estate address.
Go to his son and beseech him for help with your futures.
Your mother.”
Darcy folded the letter along its worn crease and kept her eyes fixed on it, because looking up at the earl felt impossible. “Until this letter, I had no notion you existed, my lord.”
“Give it here,” he said.
She rose, crossed the small space, and placed the letter upon the desk.
His fingers did not touch hers. He turned the paper over and read it in silence.
The line of his mouth did not change, yet something in his eyes went distant.
After a few beats, he returned the letter.
She resumed her seat and smoothed her skirts because her hands needed an occupation.
“You say you believed the earl a man of business,” he said. “Why?”
Darcy’s heart jolted. “We saw him rarely in the season and sometimes more in the autumn. He would laugh that London kept him and that he loathed it. I presumed it was business that detained him. I never imagined it was another family.”
“Where did you live?”
“There was a modest but lovely manor in Hertfordshire, my lord.”
“Were you given an education?”
“Yes. We all had governesses who taught us well, and we were also given a tutor.”
Those dark blue eyes moved over her face, and Darcy did her best to appear unruffled.
“What were the circumstances of your mother’s death?” he asked.
“She faded after the earl died,” Darcy said. “I think grief carried illness to her door. The physician called it a decline and said there was no cure for a broken heart.”
Lord Raine listened with grave attention that made the hairs at the nape of her neck stir. He did not interrupt, yet she felt as if every word she spoke was weighed upon a scale.
“You sold your mother’s jewelry.”
“Yes, the few my stepfather gifted her throughout the years. I used the monies I received to see our mother properly buried, and to keep us provided for as long as I was able.
“What then?”
Darcy steadied her breath. The Earl must understand she had not discovered him as a source of wealth and rejoiced. She had tried her utmost before swallowing her pride and packing her sisters for London.
“I tried to find respectable work that would allow me to keep my sisters cared for, and with us living under the same roof. There was none. I took in mending and wrote letters for tradesmen who could not write their own. It was barely enough to cover our upkeep.”
“And then you came to me.”
“Not right away, my lord,” she said, touching the edge of the letter with her fingertip.
“After I understood in full my mother’s relationship with the earl, I hesitated to trouble his wife and son.
I wrote to the solicitor who handled our accounts, Mr. Peabody, to ask whether any provision had been left.
He told me there was none. Only after I reached out to Mr. Peabody did he deliver notice that we must vacate the cottage because it formed part of the estate and was inherited by you, my lord.
Mr. Peabody then proposed that I enter into a similar arrangement to the one my mother had with your father, with Mr. Peabody as my benefactor.
I declined, and he gave us a couple of weeks to vacate the cottage.
We had nowhere to go, so I brought my sisters here to you. ”
Darcy met his gaze and waited for judgment. She had no notion what she would do if he refused them further aid.
“Tell me plainly,” he said. “What do you ask of me?”
Her heart raced, yet she spoke as steadily as she could. “I ask you to consider whether any provision was intended and lost in the making. I ask you not to turn my sisters away, my lord.”
“You do not ask for yourself,” he said.
Her belly knotted with fear and hope. “I am not of your blood, my lord. I have no expectations for myself.”
He leaned back a fraction. It was a small movement, yet it felt like a wave withdrawing from the shore. She could not read what lay in his mind. He had the careful face of a man who kept his balance upon a dangerous height. Darcy could not trust someone so unreadable.
“Very well,” he said. “You will remain as my guests until I determine what is to be done.”
Relief trembled through Darcy. “Thank you, my lord.”
She rose and curtsied. Her knees felt untrustworthy, but she did not allow them to wobble. As she reached the door, he spoke again.
“Miss Whitley.”
She turned.
“You will be frank with me in all things,” he said. “I detest dishonesty. See that it does not mar our interactions.”
“I will be frank, my lord,” she replied. “I ask only the same in return so I might manage my expectations well.”
He did not answer, merely inclined his head in dismissal.
She stepped into the corridor and closed the door behind her with care.
A sharp breath escaped her. It was not relief.
It was not quite dread. They might have one more night under the earl’s roof, or they might have a week.
Darcy also knew she could not rest their future upon the goodwill of a man who could look at them with such chilling indifference.
The existence of three new sisters would not move him.
He would likely take great offense at their illegitimacy.
She must keep finding a way forward and not let herself believe they were saved.
That would make her complacent, and she needed to be ready for every possibility.