Page 34 of Return to Pemberley

Elizabeth, positioned at the library entrance alongside Mr. Darcy and the steward, observed these final preparations with composure that was more than half artifice.

She detected in the set of Darcy's mouth a tension which might appear serene to casual observation, but which she recognized as evidence of an entire campaign of contingencies and defenses.

Mr. Harrow, summoned to serve as both witness and authority, stood at respectful attention near the hearth, his hands folded in the precise manner prescribed for such occasions by generations of faithful service.

When Mr. Blackwood entered the library, he paused upon the threshold, his gaze measuring the scene before him with careful deliberation.

He bowed first to Darcy, then to Elizabeth, and finally acknowledged Mr. Harrow with a nod of recognition.

"Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy," he said, addressing the steward last with "sir," though without the slightest trace of subservience.

"Mr. Blackwood, we are gratified by your prompt attendance," Darcy replied, indicating the chair positioned nearest the writing table, upon which the relevant maps and correspondence had been ceremonially arrayed.

Blackwood seated himself, hat maintained in his grasp, and waited with perfect stillness. The ensuing silence possessed that particular quality which might, in different circumstances, have heralded the commencement of more martial proceedings.

Elizabeth assumed the initiative, advancing a step with manner all warmth and reasonable address.

"Mr. Blackwood, pray forgive us if this interview appears somewhat precipitous.

Yet as the correspondence will demonstrate, it concerns a matter of mutual consequence, and we deemed it preferable to address it with perfect directness rather than permit speculation or intermediaries to obscure the essential points. "

Blackwood's countenance, which had begun to settle into lines of wariness, relaxed by the smallest degree. "That sentiment does you credit, Mrs. Darcy. I have always held that honest questions deserve honest answers."

Darcy, dispensing with further preliminaries, took up the document packet.

"I shall speak with complete candour, sir.

There exists, as you are aware, a parcel designated Shepherd's Lot, which has for several decades remained a source of uncertainty between our families.

My late father believed the question resolved, yet it appears—" here he acknowledged Elizabeth with a brief glance, crediting her discovery without apology—"that the original commitment was never properly executed.

The pertinent papers have only recently been discovered, and as you stand as direct heir to the original interested party, we wish to consult with you regarding proper disposition. "

Blackwood accepted the proffered documents with steady hands, unfolding the first with deliberate care.

He read with attention bordering upon suspicion, his eyes moving between text and marginal annotations with judicial precision.

Each page received slow examination, as though he weighed its significance in careful balance.

When at last he raised his eyes, his expression had undergone subtle transformation.

"Your statement is entirely correct," he said, his voice low yet even.

"I had heard tales, naturally—old gentlemen at the Lambton inn possess remarkable memories, particularly for matters which do not concern them.

Yet I never expected to see such testimony written out, much less in Lady Anne's own hand.

" His finger traced the relevant line with the precision of a magistrate pronouncing judgment.

"I observe that the document lacks signature. "

Darcy met this observation without flinching. "That is so. Yet as my wife has wisely observed, what remains unwritten sometimes constitutes the greater obligation."

At this, Blackwood's expression softened considerably. He regarded Elizabeth with new attention, and she perceived in his eyes not the wariness of a potential litigant, but the cautious hope of one who has learned to expect little from the world's justice.

"I would not have you mistake me for an adventurer, Mrs. Darcy.

My holding is modest, yet it is my own, and I prize independence above any prospect of advancement.

" Blackwood arranged the final document upon the table, his gaze seeking Elizabeth's countenance as though to discover there some assurance of honesty which written words had yet failed to provide.

Elizabeth, recognizing this appeal, seized her opportunity.

"Mr. Blackwood, you must not imagine we harbor any intention of entangling you with legal subtleties or condescending patronage.

Pemberley has flourished precisely because it values honor alongside efficiency.

If some omission has occurred—on either side—we seek justice, not advantage. "

Blackwood looked down, his fingers working nervously about his hat brim. "Justice is a magnificent word, Mrs. Darcy. I have observed it employed to signify whatever best serves the gentleman with the longest purse."

Mr. Harrow, sensing the delicate temperature of the discussion, ventured a diplomatic clearing of his throat.

"The circumstances are precisely as Mr. Darcy has represented, sir.

You could not discover a more equitable hearing throughout Derbyshire, nor one more scrupulous in its attention to particulars. "

Blackwood managed the faintest of smiles, its meaning entirely opaque.

"So I am informed." He addressed Darcy directly.

"It would perhaps assist my understanding if I comprehended why you elected to disturb this matter after so many years of silence.

My father maintained that sleeping dogs ought to remain undisturbed, particularly when their bite was known to be severe. "

Darcy's response came without hesitation.

"Because duty demands it. Because I will not permit the name of Darcy to rest upon any foundation of negligence.

Shepherd's Lot may constitute a trifling matter in the context of this estate, yet I suspect it assumes greater significance in the measure of your own. "

This admission, offered without calculation or reserve, appeared to dissolve some barrier in Blackwood's demeanor.

He settled back in his chair, his hands now resting openly upon his knees.

"You speak truly, Mr. Darcy. It would not prove trifling to my circumstances.

My son must inherit whatever I can secure, and my daughter—" Here his voice faltered slightly, "—my daughter may have precious little else to depend upon. "

Elizabeth, detecting both pride and pain in this confession, found her heart moved to speak what neither gentleman would venture.

"There appears, in one of Lady Anne's letters, reference to your family's generosity during a season of particular difficulty.

She writes that your grandfather, though himself pressed by circumstances, extended credit and seed grain when most needed, and suggests that Pemberley's prosperity might have foundered without such intervention.

" She advanced the letter toward him, her finger resting lightly upon the relevant passage.

Blackwood examined the script with visible concentration, as though testing each word for authenticity. When he finally looked up, suspicion had entirely vanished, replaced by an expression so transparently surprised that the meeting's formality momentarily collapsed.

"I possessed no knowledge of this," he said quietly. "My father was not a man to boast of favors rendered, nor to permit his children to imagine themselves benefactors of their superiors. He maintained strict silence, even in matters touching family pride."

Darcy nodded with immediate understanding. "His discretion was admirable. Yet Pemberley honors its obligations, even those which remain unclaimed."

A profound silence followed, heavy as dust upon ancient ledgers, and it seemed momentarily as though the interview's business might dissolve into unspoken sentiment. Elizabeth gathered the conversational threads once more.

"I believe," she said, her tone both gentle and decisive, "that legal proceedings would yield little satisfaction to either party without years of costly disputation.

Perhaps there exists a course better suited to all interests: if Shepherd's Lot is indeed contiguous with your present holding, and was always so intended, then it ought properly to be conveyed to you absolutely, with such compensation as justice requires for any improvements Pemberley has effected over the intervening years.

Boundaries may be established by proper survey, parish records amended accordingly.

In return, you might, if you choose, acknowledge whatever enhancements Pemberley has contributed to the land's value—at a price determined by mutual assessment—or, should you prefer, accept the parcel as it stands and consider all previous claims of improvement void.

In either circumstance, the Lot becomes yours by right, as it perhaps always ought to have been. "

Elizabeth concluded this proposal with calmness that belied her racing pulse, regarding both Blackwood and Darcy with clear, expectant countenance.

The room's entire weight now balanced upon their visitor's response, who for several moments offered no reply.

It appeared as though Blackwood, never having been the beneficiary of such straightforward equity, could scarcely credit its reality.

At length he released a long breath—not the exhalation of defeat, but of burden finally shifted. "You are certain of this course, Mrs. Darcy? There will be no unforeseen consequences? No superior courts summoned later to overturn today's agreements?"