Chapter Twenty-One

Elizabeth

E lizabeth had just finished settling Maggie into bed, gently smoothing the child’s hair as she drifted into a restless sleep. It had taken longer than expected to calm her—Maggie had been unusually fretful that evening, clinging to Elizabeth’s hand as if sensing something amiss. Elizabeth had whispered soothing words, promising the little girl that all would be well, though in truth, her own heart held more uncertainty than reassurance.

After Maggie finally succumbed to sleep, Elizabeth quietly made her way down the hall, her thoughts preoccupied with the gravity of their situation. The evening was growing late, but the dinner she had been obliged to miss was still ongoing. As she neared the dining room, the sound of voices floated towards her, muffled but growing clearer as she approached the partially open door.

She hesitated just outside, not wanting to intrude, but Mr Darcy’s voice caught her attention, a low murmur followed by the clipped, distinct tones of Lady Matlock. Elizabeth paused, feeling a surge of curiosity—and perhaps a twinge of anxiety. She knew that Lady Matlock harboured reservations about her presence, and it was hard to resist listening, even if decorum demanded otherwise.

Leaning against the wall, just out of view, Elizabeth found herself unwittingly drawn into their conversation.

“I still cannot comprehend, Fitzwilliam, why you insist on involving yourself in such a matter,” Lady Matlock was saying, her voice laced with polite disdain. “This child, whoever she is, is hardly deserving of such attention. And now Richard, too, is being pulled into this… mess. It is beneath both of you.”

There was a pause, and then Mr Darcy’s steady voice answered. “Aunt, as I have said, helping a child in need can never be beneath anyone. She is alone, and it is our duty to ensure her safety, regardless of her birth. Richard agrees, otherwise he would not have agreed to help before he departed.”

Elizabeth’s heart swelled with gratitude, though her fingers clenched the fabric of her gown. She had expected as much from Mr Darcy but hearing him defend Maggie so earnestly only solidified her admiration for him.

“Charity, of course, is noble in its place,” Lady Matlock continued with a dismissive wave, “but this is something else entirely. I do wonder, Fitzwilliam, if you have truly thought through the implications of this… cause you’ve undertaken.”

“And what implications might those be, Aunt?” Mr Darcy’s voice was calm, but Elizabeth could hear the strain beneath it.

A soft sigh from Lady Matlock followed. “Surely, you understand that associating with such a child—whose origins are entirely unknown—could reflect poorly upon your standing. Especially if she is of low birth.”

Elizabeth’s breath caught. The familiar, biting tone of condescension reminded her too much of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She pressed a hand to her chest, willing herself to remain calm.

“And I daresay,” Lady Matlock continued, her voice growing sharper, “this reflects not only on you, Fitzwilliam, but on Miss Bennet’s family as well. It would hardly do for them to take in a child of such uncertain heritage. Think of what it would mean for their reputation. To have such a child in their care could sully their name beyond repair.”

At that moment, Elizabeth could remain silent no longer. Her family’s reputation? The suggestion that her association with Maggie might bring dishonour upon her family ignited a flame of indignation within her. Without further hesitation, she stepped through the doorway, her chin lifted, her heart pounding but her expression composed.

“If your ladyship will forgive the intrusion,” Elizabeth said, her voice steady despite the tension in the room, “I could not help but overhear your concerns for my family’s reputation.”

All eyes turned towards her. Mr Darcy’s face softened when he saw her, but Lady Matlock’s expression froze, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

Elizabeth curtsied gracefully, though her gaze was unwavering. “I assure you, Lady Matlock, that my family’s reputation is hardly so fragile as to be sullied by an act of kindness. Whatever Maggie’s birth, we are proud to care for her, and I cannot see how that would lower us in the eyes of any respectable person.”

Lady Matlock’s lips pressed together into a thin line, though she maintained her genteel composure. “Miss Bennet,” she began, her voice laced with cool condescension, “I meant no insult, of course. I am merely considering the practicalities. You must see that the care of a child of unknown origins, especially one who may be of… unfortunate birth, could have lasting consequences for your family’s standing. It is not only a matter of sentiment but of propriety.”

“I see that your ladyship is very concerned with matters of propriety,” Elizabeth replied, her tone measured but with an edge that Mr Darcy instantly recognised. “But in this instance, I believe the welfare of an innocent child takes precedence over societal considerations. Maggie deserves a home, and my family is more than capable of providing that, regardless of what others may think.”

Mr Darcy spoke up. “Miss Bennet is entirely correct. Maggie’s safety and care must come first, not the idle gossip of society. I would hope that any person of decency would understand that.”

Lady Matlock’s eyes flicked between Mr Darcy and Elizabeth, her displeasure barely masked. “Fitzwilliam,” she began, “while I commend your compassion, I must insist that you consider the long-term effects of such decisions. And if the child is of higher birth… raised by those of lower station…” She trailed off with a pointed glance at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth felt the sting of the remark, but she was not cowed. “If Maggie is of high birth, I should hope that her true family—should they be found—would care more for her well-being than for the status of those who saved her.”

“Precisely,” Mr Darcy added, his voice resolute. “We cannot let questions of rank dictate how we treat a child in need.”

Lady Matlock’s jaw tightened, but before she could speak again, Lord Matlock, who had been observing quietly from the head of the table, finally intervened.

“That will do, Lady Matlock,” he said, his voice calm but commanding. He had clearly heard enough. “While I appreciate your concerns for propriety, we cannot lose sight of what is most important here. This child is under our protection, and as long as that remains the case, her care will be our first priority. Society’s opinions can be dealt with later.”

There was a moment of silence. Lady Matlock gave a slight nod, though her expression remained icy. “Of course, Lord Matlock,” she said, her tone clipped.

Elizabeth felt a wave of relief, though she maintained her composure, offering a polite nod to Lord Matlock. “Thank you, my lord. It is most reassuring to know that Maggie’s welfare is of such importance to you.”

Lord Matlock smiled slightly. “It is only right, Miss Bennet.”

With that, the conversation shifted to more neutral topics, though the undercurrent of tension remained. Elizabeth exchanged a brief, grateful glance with Mr Darcy, who offered her a small smile in return.

As dinner continued, Elizabeth could not help but feel that, despite the difficulties, she was exactly where she was meant to be.