Page 52 of Intrigue and Inheritance (Crime and Consequences #3)

“Ah, Darcy,” Lord Byerly said smoothly, his lips curving into a smugly confident smile. “I trust Miss de Bourgh is amenable to my suit? I have always sensed a particular understanding between us.”

Darcy moved to his desk, choosing his words with care.

“I have spoken with my cousin,” he began, meeting Byerly’s gaze directly.

“She asked me to convey her appreciation for your interest, but she does not wish to entertain your suit or further encourage your addresses. Miss de Bourgh’s decision is quite definite on this matter. ”

He watched the transformation that overtook Byerly’s features with detached interest. The confident smile froze, then slowly dissolved into a tight line.

A flush crept up from Byerly's immaculate collar, and though he maintained his rigid posture, a tremor passed through his clasped hands before he deliberately steadied them.

“I confess this comes as a surprise,” Byerly said, his voice controlled but with an undercurrent of tension that vibrated like a plucked string.

“Perhaps Miss de Bourgh has misunderstood the nature of my intentions? I offer her not merely the admiration of a suitor but the elevation to one of England’s oldest titles.

Such advantages are rarely declined by young ladies of sense. ”

“My cousin understands perfectly the nature of your offer,” Darcy replied with quiet firmness. “Her decision is based on careful consideration of her own wishes and inclinations.”

Byerly moved away from the window, his steps measured but with a force that suggested suppressed agitation.

“With all due respect, Darcy, young ladies are often guided by momentary sensibilities rather than practical considerations. Miss de Bourgh has led a sheltered life; she may not fully appreciate the significance of such an alliance.” His tone sharpened slightly.

“Perhaps Lady Catherine would take a different view of the matter. I understand she has long wished to see her daughter make an advantageous match.”

Darcy felt a flicker of annoyance at this transparent attempt to circumvent Anne’s wishes by appealing to her mother’s well-known social ambitions.

“Lady Catherine naturally wishes for her daughter’s happiness,” he countered smoothly.

“However, Miss de Bourgh is entitled to make her own decisions in such personal matters.”

“Young ladies sometimes change their minds,” Byerly persisted, his aristocratic drawl taking on a harder edge. “Especially when properly guided by those with greater experience of the world. Perhaps in time, Miss de Bourgh might reconsider.”

“I would not encourage such expectations,” Darcy said firmly. “My cousin’s decision appears to be quite fixed. It would be a disservice to both parties to suggest otherwise.”

Something dangerous flashed in Byerly’s eyes before he mastered himself, smoothing his features into a mask of dignified acceptance. “How disappointing,” he murmured. “I had thought Miss de Bourgh possessed of superior judgment. It seems I was mistaken.”

The thinly veiled insult to Anne’s intelligence stirred Darcy to a more pointed response than he might otherwise have offered.

“On the contrary, I believe my cousin’s judgment in this matter demonstrates remarkable clarity and self-knowledge.

Qualities that will serve her well as mistress of Rosings Park. ”

The deliberate emphasis on Anne’s inheritance and future position seemed to strike home, for Byerly’s jaw tightened visibly.

For a moment, Darcy thought the man might abandon his pretence of civility entirely, though he could not imagine what Byerly might do.

Instead, with visible effort, Byerly inclined his head in a gesture of stiff acknowledgment.

“Then there is nothing more to be said,” he declared, reaching for his gloves with precise movements that betrayed his inner agitation. “I shall take my leave of you, Darcy. Please convey my regards to Mrs. Darcy and the ladies of your household.”

“Of course,” Darcy replied, moving to ring for Harrison. “I thank you for your understanding in this delicate matter.”

Byerly’s lips curved in a smile that held no warmth whatsoever. “Understanding is the mark of a gentleman, is it not? Good day to you.”

As Harrison appeared to show the visitor out, Darcy noted the rigid set of Byerly’s shoulders and the too-careful precision of his movements as he departed.

The man’s pride had been wounded, certainly; but more significantly, his financial calculations had been disrupted.

Such a combination of injured vanity and thwarted ambition made for a potentially dangerous adversary.

Darcy resolved to remain vigilant in his protection of Anne’s interests, suspecting they had not heard the last of Byerly’s aspirations regarding Rosings Park and its mistress.

Darcy returned to the library, finding Anne once again absorbed in her equestrian volume. She looked up at his approach, her expression immediately alert, though not anxious.

“Is it done, then?” she asked directly, closing her book.

Darcy nodded, taking a seat in the armchair opposite hers. “Byerly has been informed of your decision. He was... disappointed.”

A small smile touched Anne’s lips at his understated description. “I imagine his disappointment extended beyond mere romantic sentiments.”

“Indeed,” Darcy confirmed, appreciating his cousin’s growing perspicacity. “He suggested that you might change your mind in time, particularly if Lady Catherine were consulted on the matter.”

Anne’s expression hardened slightly. “Of course he would think to appeal to Mother. She will undoubtedly consider him my ideal match.” She hesitated, then asked with a touch of vulnerability, “Do you think he will write to her directly?”

“I believe he may,” Darcy admitted. “Though even Lady Catherine cannot compel you to accept an unwelcome suit against your explicit wishes. I will support you in enforcing your decision, and I will ensure that our uncle is also apprised of your decision.”

Anne nodded, though not without a shadow of apprehension. “I would prefer if this matter remained private, at least for now. There has been enough gossip surrounding me since... since Lord Joseph’s death.”

“I agree completely,” Darcy assured her. “There is no need for anyone to be informed of the marquess’s offer or your refusal of it, unless your mother attempts to compel you. I will wait to advise our uncle, until it becomes necessary.”

“Thank you.” Anne’s relief was evident in the relaxing of her shoulders. “Though I assume you will tell Elizabeth?”

“Yes,” Darcy confirmed without hesitation. “I keep no secrets from my wife. But you may rest assured that her discretion is absolute.”

“I would not ask you to conceal anything from Elizabeth,” Anne said quickly. “Indeed, I welcome her knowing. She has been... she has understood me better than most, I think.”

Darcy observed his cousin thoughtfully. The Anne who sat before him now bore little resemblance to the silent, shadowy figure who had first arrived at Darcy House.

There was a clarity in her gaze, a quiet confidence in her manner that spoke of genuine growth.

Whatever tragedy and upheaval this London season had brought, it had also forged something valuable in Anne: a sense of her own worth and judgment independent of her mother’s overwhelming influence.

“I hope you know,” he said carefully, “that both Elizabeth and I will support your decision unreservedly. We discussed the possibility of this eventuating, and neither of us were in favour of Byerly's, though of course we would have supported you had you decided to entertain his proposal. Whatever your mother’s reaction may be when she eventually learns of this, you have our complete backing.”

Anne’s smile deepened with genuine warmth.

“I do know that, and it means more than I can properly express.” She hesitated, then added with unexpected openness, “For the first time in my life, I feel as though I am truly making my own choices rather than simply accepting what others have decided for me. It is both frightening and... exhilarating.”

“Freedom often is,” Darcy acknowledged with a small smile of his own. “But I believe you are handling it admirably.”

As he left Anne to her reading, Darcy reflected on how profoundly his own understanding of his quiet cousin had evolved during her stay in London.

Beneath the veneer of fragility and compliance she had worn all her life, there existed a woman of considerable inner strength and clear judgment.

Perhaps it had taken tragedy and upheaval to reveal those qualities, but now that they had emerged, Darcy found himself newly confident in Anne’s ability to navigate her future, regardless of what challenges Lady Catherine or fortune-hunting suitors might present.

Later that evening, as Darcy and Elizabeth prepared for bed, he found himself reflecting on the day’s events while his wife brushed out her hair in long, rhythmic strokes, a sight that never failed to enchant him.

“Byerly took his dismissal with less grace than one might hope,” he remarked, watching Elizabeth’s reflection in her dressing table mirror. “Though he maintained the outward forms of politeness.”

Elizabeth set down her brush, turning to face him with an expression of mingled concern and amusement. “I imagine his disappointment had little to do with Anne herself and much to do with the extensive estate and resources he was calculating upon.”

“Precisely,” Darcy agreed, moving to stand beside her at the dressing table. “He even suggested appealing to Lady Catherine, believing she would favour the match for its social advantages.”

“No doubt she would,” Elizabeth replied with a small shake of her head. “But Anne showed remarkable strength in refusing him. I am proud of her.”