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Her fiancé grimaced. “George always had a poor memory for names, so I have confidence that, without his notebook and papers, he will not be able to recall enough details to ruin any of them. The money is all gone. Would you believe that he took in over a hundred pounds last year alone? His accounting is as precise as my own ledgers for Pemberley, yet he has barely a farthing to his name because he gambled it all away.”

Darcy fell quiet and Elizabeth allowed the silence to stretch uninterrupted, understanding his need to sort out his feelings. Finally, Fitzwilliam looked up and gave her a tight smile, pressing her hand where it rested on his arm.

“It’s hard to believe that in a few days he shall be gone… that I will never see him again. It makes me realize that, for all the horrible things he has done, I still held some small hope that he would eventually reform.” Fitzwilliam fell silent again.

Elizabeth offered, “You’ve lost so many who were a part of your youth. It must be very difficult to purposely cut out one of the few who share your memories. As a man, Wickham may be immoral in thought and deed, but he was your childhood companion and those bonds are not easily broken.”

Darcy studied the lady beside him, startled in spite of himself.

Not even Richard understood him so well.

Warmth began to melt away the darkness. “Well then, I suppose I should try to tell you more stories about my childhood, and as for the rest… well, we shall make our own family, and our own memories.”

Elizabeth’s brilliant smile helped him set aside the last of his misgivings.

They reached a corner and were forced to maneuver around a paperboy chanting about the latest scandal in order to entice passers-by to trade their coins for a broadsheet. His words reminded Lizzy of Wickham’s activities. “What shall be done with the letters? Will they all be burnt, like Lydia’s?”

Darcy shook his head. “Not immediately. One of the benefits of a military trial was to keep such matters private, unlike in a public court. Even so, I feel obliged to return the letters to his victims wherever possible so that they no longer have to live in fear. I can visit those who live in London and Derbyshire personally, but I have not yet decided how to deal with the others...” He paused for a moment to consider the matter.

“The post is not secure enough. It may be possible to have my solicitors arrange it; they are probably accustomed to handling such delicate matters, I suppose.”

Elizabeth squeezed his arm and let her head drop against his shoulder for an instant. “You’re a very good man, do you know that?”

Before he could demur, they heard Elizabeth’s name called from across the street and turned to discover that she was being hailed by a gentleman and two ladies.

“Lizzy! How are you?!? We were so sorry to miss the Gardiners’ party, but you know how it is—no rest for the weary!”

Elizabeth happily shook the gentleman’s hand and exchanged kisses with the two ladies before realizing that the tall gentleman beside her had grown very silent.

“Oh, forgive me—Fitzwilliam, please allow me to introduce my dear friends, Mr. and Mrs. Davenport, and Miss Davenport. Peter, Abigail, Lilly, this is my fiancé, Mr. Darcy.”

When Darcy executed a very correct bow and muttered, “Davenport,” and the other gentleman mirrored his actions, Elizabeth quirked an eyebrow.

“You already know each other.” It was a statement rather than a question.

Seeing that Darcy was either unwilling or unable to meet his gaze, Peter Davenport shrugged slightly and exchanged a look with his wife that included both amusement and disappointment. “Mr. Darcy and I were at school together. I fear we lost touch after that.”

What Peter’s very civil explanation did not say was that Darcy, like so many other members of Society, had dropped the connection when Davenport’s father, the Barron Tipton, had disowned him.

Not only did Peter have the indecency to fall in love with his younger sister’s governess, but he had also refused his father’s order to marry the heiress his parent had chosen for him and take the girl as his mistress, if he must.

After directing an admonishing glance toward her fiancé, Elizabeth turned the conversation to more pleasant news.

Listening, Darcy learned that the Davenports were running a school in Bloomsbury.

His eyes widened slightly when he realized that it was none other than the Bedford Seminary, an establishment that was rapidly gaining prominence in some circles because of its focus on intellect and morals rather than the useless nothings so often considered necessary accomplishments for a lady.

Darcy knew several gentlemen whom he respected greatly that contributed to a scholarship fund so that families without the money for tuition might send their daughters to be educated.

Surreptitiously, Fitzwilliam studied the former Miss Abigail Best, now Mrs. Davenport.

With great embarrassment, he realized that he had never even seen her before, but rather had developed an opinion based solely on the lewd speculations of the men at his club over what sort of woman might lure the Barron Tipton’s son to such infamous behavior, and how long she would stay with Davenport once she discovered that his inheritance was not forthcoming.

Instead of the dazzling seductress that Darcy had been led to expect, he was shamed to see a pretty (though not beautiful), young lady with intelligence and manners that clearly marked her as gently bred.

Fitzwilliam was suddenly struck by the disconcerting notion that, had Mr. Bennet died before his daughters married, Elizabeth might have sought a similar position.

What would he have done, Darcy pondered, if Elizabeth been hired as Georgiana’s governess?

He could easily imagine falling in love with her in such a scenario.

Would he have been strong enough to recognize that love for the gift it was and marry her, ignoring his family and Society’s strictures?

He could only imagine the Earl’s response, not to mention Lady Catherine’s.

After some moments, Darcy recalled himself to the present.

The ladies were chatting amiably but he quickly noticed that Peter was eyeing him with a certain curiosity.

Squaring his shoulders, Fitzwilliam spoke quietly, “Davenport, I owe you an apology; I should have stood by you. My only excuse is that it was a difficult time for me as well, and I was keenly aware of my responsibility to my sister, for whom I had only recently become responsible.”

Peter tilted his head in a way that the other man remembered well from their debates at university.

“And I never properly expressed my own sympathies upon the death of your father, Darcy. I hold no grudge against you, in particular. I am well aware that you had more than enough on your plate to keep you busy. And, to be perfectly frank, you were not one of those who actively worked to ruin my happiness and blacken Abby’s reputation… unlike my father and brother.”

Davenport’s last words were heated, but a soft look from his wife had the storm clouds in his eyes dissolving.

He smiled and turned back to Darcy. “In truth, we are quite content. Really, more than content—we are happy, and how many couples in Society can say that with any honesty? You know me; I would never have been satisfied without a mission to pursue. And our school surely gives me one.”

Darcy smiled. He could well remember Peter’s various causes in school and how he had poured all his energy into each and every one of them, whether it was lobbying to provide more blankets to the servants during winter or to see that a driver too free with his whip was punished.

Suddenly another thought occurred to him and he sobered immediately.

“Davenport, there is something else I must speak to you about. Something about George Wickham…” Fitzwilliam was not particularly surprised to see a dark look fall across his friend’s face, but he was taken aback by the anger that flushed both of the ladies’ faces

“What has that devil done now?!?” demanded Miss Davenport heatedly, and her former governess made only a half-hearted attempt to remonstrate her language.

Darcy and Elizabeth exchanged a look and she came to rest her hand on his arm reassuringly. “I hadn’t realized that you knew him. I met Mr. Wickham almost a year ago last autumn; a regiment of militia were stationed in Meryton and he had gained a commission as a lieutenant.”

“An officer?!?” sputtered Peter. “I cannot say that this news gives me any confidence in the honor or abilities of our military if they took one such as him.”

Darcy nodded shortly but allowed Elizabeth to continue the story.

“Yes, well, he caused rather a lot of mischief…” She shot a brief glance to Fitzwilliam but decided that it was not necessary to relay how Wickham’s lies had contributed to the misunderstandings between them.

“In the end, he convinced my youngest sister to come away with him. She thought it an elopement, but given how well you seem to understand him, I’m sure that you can guess that he had other, far less honorable intentions in mind.

Fortunately, they were intercepted before they had gone more than ten miles so there was no lasting damage, except to Mr. Wickham.

” Elizabeth accepted their expressions of outrage and sympathy, before indicating to Fitzwilliam that he should continue the story.

Darcy summarized Wickham’s court martial with much the same words he had used with Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Bennet. In this case, however, there were some other assurances to make.