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Some might have looked at the older gentleman with derision, but Richard was only saddened by seeing a man whose birth had burdened him with duties for which his innate talents were not well suited.

Mr. Bennet obviously loved his daughters very dearly, but the Colonel could tell that he would have been far more comfortable lecturing at a university than managing an estate and shepherding five pretty young ladies into society.

The gentlemen did not remain long after collecting Mr. Bennet’s statement.

Darcy managed a few words with Elizabeth when she appeared from above stairs, but there was no chance to be alone without arousing suspicion.

He tried to convince himself that he was satisfied with kissing her hand, but in truth it only left him wishing for more.

Looking deeply into her sparkling eyes just before he followed his cousin out the door, Will whispered, “How many days until we are married and I no longer have to leave you like this?”

He was fortunate that night had fallen and Richard could not easily make out the emotions evident on his face, for just before the door shut behind him, he heard Elizabeth whisper distinctly, “thirty-seven.”

They returned to Derwent House, where Colonel Fitzwilliam was staying in his usual room; it was a simple matter to convince the visiting officers that such an arrangement would be far more convenient (and comfortable) than trying to arrange for quarters on such short notice.

Darcy was relieved when the other three chose to retire early, allowing him to retreat to his own chambers immediately after checking for messages and bidding his sister good night.

Though tired, it was a long time before he fell asleep and even then his rest was disturbed by a series of vivid dreams.

When Will awoke the next morning, the faint light of dawn told him that it was still early.

He allowed himself to settle back into the pillows and shut his eyes for a few moments longer.

The business with Wickham had stirred up memories, which had, in turn, invaded his dreams. How was it, he wondered (and not for the first time), that the boy he had known so well and to whom his father had given so many advantages, had come to this?

Elizabeth’s admonitions at Hunsford had forced Darcy to reconsider the pride he took in his family’s heritage, and he accepted that his place in Society was an accident of birth, earned through no actions of his own.

However, it was hard not to see George Wickham’s life as a cautionary tale against raising a man of base birth to be a gentleman.

Will could recall his father expressing his pleasure whenever George had had even the smallest success at school and, in hindsight, he wondered if George Darcy had assumed his godson would be less capable because of his bloodlines.

Would Will himself have been so driven to succeed if he had been born the son of a steward?

Like his father, Fitzwilliam Darcy had always held out hope that his boyhood companion might someday grow out of his bad habits and make something of himself.

He had thought that such feelings had been irreparably excised by his fury at Ramsgate, and certainly he had felt nothing but anger and suspicion when he had next seen Wickham on the street in Meryton.

Of course, some of that might have been the result of George’s proximity to Elizabeth, for even before Darcy considered asking her to marry him, he had been jealous when other men received her smiles.

Elizabeth . He felt a stirring in his loins at just the thought of her.

With a sigh, he rolled onto his back and suddenly wished she was beside him with violence that made him shiver.

Certainly he enjoyed talking with her and looked forward to the time when their opportunities to do so privately were not limited to a few stolen moments.

However, he also desired her with an intensity that often frightened him.

Even his dearly held beliefs about how a gentleman should treat his fiancée did not stop Will from dreaming of how glorious it would be to lay with the woman whom he loved, and who, against all odds, had come to love him in return.

If such dreams and subsequent physical complications made him slightly late in beginning his morning ablutions, no one noticed except his faithful and very discrete valet.

After an excellent breakfast, Darcy and the others began where they had left off on the previous day, organizing the facts and compiling the supporting documents that would prove Lieutenant Wickham guilty of an increasingly long list of disciplinary offenses and criminal misconduct.

By the time Darcy left Colonel Fitzwilliam’s office later that afternoon, the work was as complete as it could be.

After a quick stop at Derwent House to change clothes, Will collected his sister and directed his driver to take them to Gracechurch Street.

It was only when Georgiana asked softly, “Are you nervous?” that it finally occurred to him they were on their way to an engagement party in his honor…

where everyone would be watching him, and he would be expected to make polite conversation for hours with dozens of strangers…

people whom Elizabeth cared about and he must not offend.

Miss Darcy smiled when panic flickered across her brother’s face, followed by a very serious, focused grimace. Reaching over, she touched his arm. “I’m sure it will be lovely. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner are so kind, I cannot imagine any of their friends could be other than agreeable.”

Darcy gritted his teeth, thinking of the various unpleasant personalities that had been invited due to their connection to him. Fortunately, the carriage came to a halt before he was required to respond.

They had arrived before any of the other guests except Mr. Bingley. Fitzwilliam caught his breath when Elizabeth turned from speaking to a maid, her delight in his arrival somehow loosening the knot in his stomach .

Elizabeth noticed that her fiancé was even quieter than usual and, after making sure that Georgiana was happily chatting with Jane and Mr. Bingley, drew him off to the side of the room. “What has happened? Is it something to do with Mr. Wickham?”

Will shook his head. Though he would have preferred to pull her away into an empty room, he contented himself by tucking her hand around his arm.

He did not notice that he left his other hand atop hers, gently rubbing his thumb along her finger.

“No… no; everything is well. All the details are organized for his court martial tomorrow. Richard asked me to apologize to you and the Gardiners; he’s likely to be late in arriving tonight as he needed to wait for his man to return from tracking down a few last leads. ”

At Elizabeth’s raised eyebrows (and a slight blush resulting from the movement of his fingers), he explained further; “Apparently some of Wickham’s blackmail victims gave him jewelry or other valuables in lieu of money.

Sergeant Dunn has been able to track some of them from the pawn shops that Wickham used. ”

Elizabeth nodded and studied him quietly for a moment. “It upsets you… seeing all that he has done, laid out in black and white, as it were.”

Darcy studied the rug for a moment, unaware that his hand had stopped moving and now simply clutched hers tightly.

Eventually he looked up and released his breath, the sympathetic look in her eye loosening another knot in his stomach.

“I, of all people, know how untrustworthy he is, but… it’s difficult to see all of his crimes listed out so clearly.

I’ve wanted to see him punished for a very long time, particularly after Ramsgate, but…

for many years, he was the closest thing I had to a sibling…

to a brother .” By the last word, he was whispering.

There was much Elizabeth wished she could say to comfort him, but a manservant was just showing in the first guests and there was no time.

Squeezing his hand until she had his undivided attention, she said quietly but firmly, “You are the very best of men and I love you dearly. You have given Mr. Wickham every possible chance to make something of himself, but he is no longer a schoolboy playing pranks. He has become a criminal, and it is not your duty to shield him from justice. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

Although she had not said anything that he did not know already, hearing her say the words steadied him. Turning them slightly so that his actions were hidden from the rest of the room, he kissed her lightly on the lips. “Thank you. I love you more than you can know.”

Before Lizzy could respond, the booming voice of his uncle prompted them to return to their places. “Sir James, how good to see you again!” offered Elizabeth, kissing the gentleman’s cheek.

“Yes, yes, my dear. I’m glad to see that I’ve managed to arrive before the rest of the mob—I predict that you two will not have a moment to spare this afternoon!”

Pleased to see both young people smile, Sir James added, “I wanted to tell you how pleased I am.” Becoming more serious, the judge turned to his nephew while still retaining hold of Elizabeth’s hand.

“Fitzwilliam, you’ve chosen very well and, as the last remaining Darcy of my generation, I wish you both to know that you have my sincerest blessings and my prayers for a long and happy life together. ”

The sincerity in the elderly bachelor’s voice brought tears to Elizabeth’s eyes while Will worked manfully to hide how touched he was. Even so, he may have shaken his uncle’s hand for rather longer than necessary while thanking him.

More guests were shown in and Sir James moved off to greet various other acquaintances. In his place passed a succession of well-wishers, most sincere in their congratulations, a few (such as Lady Alameda and Miss Bingley) were not, but Will and Elizabeth found that those were easily forgotten.