Page 13 of Fitzwilliam Darcy Undone
Knowing she couldn’t lie to her father, she replied by saying, “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but as I waited for Jane in the hall, I heard your questions and her answers. In my heart I knew I would have answered in a different manner and it frightened me.”
He turned from the window. “You heard us?”
“Yes.”
With a heavy sigh he leaned back in his chair. “I never thought I’d ever explain our true family history again, but it seems I must.”
“Whatever do you mean bytruefamily history?”
“There has been a Bennet at Longbourn for well over five hundred years. The only difference is that at one time our family name was Benoit.” He stood and tugged the bell pull. “This will take some time. We’ll need sustenance.” Within minutes Mrs. Hill arrived and he asked for her to bring a pot of tea and some biscuits. While they waited Jane was seen cantering down the drive. Soon, their tea arrived and Papa began his story. “Sometime during the fourteenth century one of our ancestors moved from France to England, settling here in Hertfordshire and over time the name Benoit evolved into Bennet. In 1789, after the storming of Bastille, my father sensed we were in danger and sent me here to take over Longbourn. My cousin had passed away and the estate fell to my father who begged me to leave France, take the name Bennet and begin fresh.”
“But, Papa. Why was our family in danger?”
“You are clever, my girl.” Papa’s smile was faint but warm. “My birth name is Louis Alexander Tomas Henri Benoit.”
“Thomas Henry Bennet,” she whispered.
“Yes, it’s important to stay as close to the truth as possible.”
“I understand the French Revolution and resulting reign of terror caused many citizens distress, but why the need to flee the country?”
“Because, my dear, although my birth name was Louis Benoit, my father was Viscount Louis Antoine Pierre Charles Benoit and bearing that name caused my beloved father and mother to meet their fate with Madame Guillotine in 1794.” Her soft gasp was barely heard over the sudden torrential rain which pounded the ground. He glanced out the window and said with a soft smile and rubbed his wrist, “Ah, Fanny knew it would rain. I’m convinced she has a touch of the Fae.” He faced Lizzy again. “Your mother and I returned to France in 1791 after Jane’s birth. Foolish me, I wanted my parents to meet their first grandchild, however, not long after we arrived the King attempted to flee the country and everything became madness and chaos. We managed to slip out of Normandy to Calais and came home to Longbourn where I cleansed your mother of her memories.”
Lizzy rose to her feet and went to her father, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
“I am saddened by your history but glad you are safe.”
He patted her arm, “Thank you. I am resigned to it now, although at the time I was devastated.”
She returned to her chair and sat. “Why are you now telling me our history? What is the purpose of all this?”
“Not only is our family name ancient, so is our magical lineage.”
“Why did your father not use magic to save their lives?” Lizzy interrupted her father.
“Maximilien Robespierre,” he spat out. “He systematically arrested nobles and aristocrats, all in the name of independence for the common man. What the common man did not know was that he and his cadre of followers were practitioners of the Dark Arts. My father, as a Miatharan, could have transported himself to safety but my mother was human and he would not abandon her.”
“Miatharans?”
“Aye. It is the name of our people. Males are always born with magic while there is faint chance a female will exhibit magical powers on her sixteenth birthday.”
“That’s why you questioned us on our birthday.”
“As I said. You are clever.”
“What did you mean by ‘transported’?”
“Miatharans can, with years of training, transport themselves anywhere they desire They can also converse with their thoughts, which is how I knew of my father’s demise. We had a long conversation the day before he met his death.”
“Is France the only place where Miatharans lived. Are there any in England?”
“Aye, our kind came over with William during the Norman invasion, but they are few in numbers now. In France, the ‘Reign of Terror’ claimed the lives of over seventeen thousand souls. At least ten thousand were Miatharan, including the Royal family.” He picked up a biscuit from the plate and dipped it in his tea before taking a bite. “I took almost draconian steps to ensure I birthed no male, much to your mother’s long-suffering horror, by weaving a charm on her wedding band, as it is the one piece of jewelry she does not remove. I also heavily warded Longbourn to ensure no male progeny.”
“Do the wards have a taste to them, almost like cinnamon?”
“Yes!” Startled, Papa dropped his biscuit into the tea. “You can taste them?”
“Not as much as before, but sometimes when I walk around the little garden off the west parlor, I taste cinnamon and crave a baked apple tart.”
