Page 52 of Mr. Darcy’s Forgotten Heir (Pride and Prejudice Variations #1)
“Yet someone fathered Miss Bennet’s child,” Darcy countered, the words sharp with accusation. “A child who bears the name William Bennet. A curious coincidence, would you not agree?”
“I know nothing of Miss Elizabeth’s circumstances since I left Longbourn.
You ask me to account for events of which I have no knowledge!
” Collins insisted, wiping his forehead with a grimy handkerchief.
“Perhaps… perhaps there was another gentleman whose attentions Miss Elizabeth favored? The militia was quartered near Meryton at that time, I recall. Several officers were frequent visitors to Longbourn.”
The militia. Something stirred in Darcy’s memory—red coats, laughter, Elizabeth’s sparkling eyes as she conversed with a handsome officer. The image vanished before he could grasp it fully, leaving only a vague unease.
“If you are innocent of what you’ve been accused,” Darcy said, regaining his composure, “then I regret the damage to your reputation. However, the fact remains that Miss Bennet and her son have suffered considerable hardship as a result of their abandonment.”
Collins nodded eagerly, sensing an opening.
“A most unfortunate situation, to be sure. One for which I have been unjustly blamed, resulting in my own considerable hardships. Perhaps, sir, with your influence, the truth might be established? Lady Catherine might be persuaded to restore my living if you were to speak on my behalf?”
Darcy’s jaw tightened at this transparent attempt to secure his intervention. “My concern is not for your career prospects, Mr. Collins, but for the welfare of Miss Bennet and her son.”
“Of course, of course,” Collins agreed hastily. “Most commendable. The Christian duty of protecting the unfortunate, particularly those of the fairer sex who have been led astray by… whoever the actual father might be.”
The obsequious tone grated on Darcy’s nerves. “In fact,” he said, a sudden decision forming, “I intend to ensure their security personally. I am prepared to make William my ward, providing for his education and future prospects, if the matter of his paternity can be definitively settled.”
Collins’s eyes widened at this pronouncement. “Most generous, indeed! Though… does this not require the biological father’s formal relinquishment of rights? Something I cannot provide, being entirely unconnected to the child’s conception?”
“A legal technicality that can be addressed,” Darcy replied dismissively. “The important matter is ensuring the boy’s future security.”
“And… Miss Elizabeth?” Collins inquired with poorly concealed curiosity. “What provision would be made for her?”
The presumption of the question ignited Darcy’s temper anew. “ That, sir, is none of your concern. My arrangements for Miss Bennet are between her and myself.”
“Of course, of course,” Collins backpedaled hastily. “I merely sought to understand the full scope of your charitable intentions. Lady Catherine always speaks most highly of your generosity toward those less fortunate.”
“Lady Catherine,” Darcy said coolly, “is not present in this conversation, nor is her opinion relevant to my decisions regarding Miss Bennet and her son.”
“However, a word from you, Mr. Darcy, as an honest witness.” Collins replied, spreading his hands in a gesture of helplessness.
“Surely you’ve seen Miss Elizabeth and her sisters conversing with those dashing militia officers?
Lieutenant Wickham was particularly attentive to the young ladies of the neighborhood, as I recall. ”
“Wickham,” Darcy repeated, the name bitter on his tongue.
“Yes, an amiable gentleman, most charming in his manners,” Collins continued, oblivious. “I believe Miss Elizabeth found his company particularly agreeable. There was some talk of an attachment, though nothing formal that I observed before my departure.”
Each word drove the knife deeper. Elizabeth and Wickham?
Could it be possible? The timing would align as neatly as it had with Collins, and Wickham’s character was certainly consistent with such behavior.
Yet something in Darcy rebelled against the notion, some deeper knowledge that insisted this explanation, too, was wrong.
“Your speculation,” Darcy said, closing his fists underneath the desk, “is neither helpful nor welcome. I suggest you depart Bellfield immediately. Your presence here serves no purpose.”
The clergyman drew himself up with as much dignity as his diminished circumstances allowed. “I see that reason will not prevail here. Very well. I shall depart, but I maintain my complete innocence in this matter.”
Without waiting for the footman, he opened the study door and exited, clearly eager to depart. As he approached the entrance hall, he wheeled around, his obsequious nature reasserting itself .
“Mr. Darcy, I implore you to reconsider.” His voice resounded through the corridor. “My livelihood, my reputation, my very future depend upon clearing my name of these false accusations. Whatever gentleman fathered Miss Elizabeth’s child, it was not I.”
Darcy rose to physically remove the impudent parson from the farmhouse when a flurry of skirts and indignant eyes stopped him. Elizabeth, her sister, and William had returned from their walk, stopping at the sight of Mr. Collins.
Collins followed his gaze, his expression changing from indignation to shock as he spotted Elizabeth approaching with William.
“Cousin Elizabeth!” he exclaimed. “You are indeed here! But what is this about a child?”
Elizabeth hand went to her throat, her face paling as she registered Collins’s presence. William, oblivious to the tension, continued running toward Darcy.
“Da-see! Da-see!” the boy called happily, arms outstretched. “Up! Up!”
Georgiana descended the staircase, and the front door opened. Lady Eleanor’s footman escorted her into the entrance hall.
“Fitzwilliam.” His aunt observed the disarray. “What precisely is happening here?”