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Sighing, Fitzwilliam forced himself to explain, though his gruff voice hinted at the strain he felt.

“George Wickham’s ship sailed this morning for Australia.

Perhaps it was stupid of me, but I got up early and went to see it off, though I never actually caught sight of him.

It’s hard to imagine that I will never see him again.

For so long, I thought… I believed that… ”

Now Elizabeth turned to him, surprised by his dawn pilgrimage and concerned by the suffering and confusion evident in his voice. Without a thought, she raised a hand and touched his cheek, pleased when he met her eyes and some of the wrinkles smoothed from his brow.

Will looked deeply into her eyes for a long moment, and then, making a decision, kissed her lightly and proceeded to tell her a condensed version of the story his Uncle Henry had related several days prior.

Elizabeth remained silent for a long time after he finished summarizing the unhappy history of Mr. Wickham’s origins. Finally she looked up at him, comprehension dawning in her eyes. “You suspected, all these years, that he was your half-brother…”

“I did, yes. Particularly as we spent so much of our childhood together, sharing lessons and such. And it was no secret that my parents hoped for another child, and my father especially for another son. I suppose I absorbed that wish and translated it to the desire for a brother. And Wickham was always right there…”

Lizzy was still trying to absorb his story.

It explained a great deal of Darcy’s ambiguous behavior toward Mr. Wickham, always cleaning up after the man, paying his debts, and generally getting him out of trouble; disapproving of his morals but never denouncing him publically.

It was just how she would expect an honorable gentleman with a strong sense of family loyalty would deal with a rogue relative.

Suddenly, horror bloomed in her expression. “And when he tried to elope with Georgiana, you thought…”

“I feared that he was trying to seduce his half-sister, yes.”

They shared a long look; Elizabeth finally comprehending the degree of distress that Wickham had caused him.

Fitzwilliam watched her process the information and felt freer than he had in years.

Not for the first time since she had entered his life, Will realized that the simple act of sharing a problem made it seem far less overwhelming than trying to lock it away in a dark corner of his mind where it invariably festered.

There was no time to speak further as they both heard Mr. Bingley calling for them.

Thinking quickly, Elizabeth said softly, “This is quite a lot to take in at once—I can understand your mood very well now. Perhaps we might walk out together tomorrow morning? I’ve been longing to be back in the countryside; no one will think it odd for me to be up and out of doors with the dawn.”

Will agreed instantly and soon Lizzy was climbing back into the stuffy carriage.

She attempted to hide her preoccupation from her relations but, fortunately, the others appeared to have exhausted their need for conversation.

Mr. Bennet took out a book, Jane picked up her embroidery, and Lydia folded a shawl so that it pillowed her head while she napped.

Relieved, Elizabeth took out a volume of poetry she had packed but it was not many minutes before she gave up reading and simply stared out at the passing countryside, deep in thought.

She was so engrossed in her contemplations that the sound of the carriage wheels on the gravel of Longbourn’s drive came as a surprise.

As the coach pulled up to the house, Catherine, Mary, and their mother emerged from the front door to welcome them home.

Elizabeth waved, immediately noticing that the three were unexpectedly subdued.

Mrs. Bennet displayed an odd combination of anxiety and relief when the two young men pulled their horses to a halt and dismounted. “Oh, Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley… I’m so glad to see you both… it is so good of you to escort my daughters home. Mary, Kitty—greet the gentlemen, girls!”

The pair curtseyed obediently but continued to stand closely by their mother. Darcy observed both the muted behavior and the way all three ladies turned worried eyes toward the carriage.

“Mama!” Lydia’s natural exuberance had been cooped up for long hours with disapproving companions; she burst from the carriage the very instant that the footman opened the door.

Mrs. Bennet stood stiffly for an instant when her youngest hugged her, but then wrapped her arms around the girl. “Oh Lydia, my dear… my dear, dear baby.”

However, a moment later, Mrs. Bennet’s eyes snapped open to look up at her husband and eldest daughters. She stiffened and stepped back, snapping, “Go to your room, Lydia.”

“But Mama…”

“Now!”

It said something about Lydia’s recent improvement that she obeyed her mother with little more than a hurt look and a huff.

While the travelers looked on curiously, Mrs. Bennet turned to her two eldest, giving each a short, tight hug. “Jane, Elizabeth, it’s so good to see you. You both look very well.” She patted Jane’s cheek. “My beautiful girls.”

Mr. Bennet was so startled by his wife’s uncharacteristic behavior that he could not even manufacture one of his usual sarcastic quips.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Bennet had turned to the two gentlemen in a manner that was not quite obsequious but was certainly more tentative than her usual attitude. “Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley; will you come inside for refreshments?”

Sensing that something was off and guessing that the family needed some time alone, Fitzwilliam spoke before Charles might accept.

“Thank you for your kind invitation, Mrs. Bennet, but I believe we should carry on to Netherfield and get ourselves settled.” Seeing the woman’s concern, he added quickly, “But another time?”

Mrs. Bennet smiled, clearly relieved at this evidence that her daughters’ fiancés were not fleeing Longbourn forever. “Oh yes! Perhaps tomorrow, after church? Yes? Oh good, very good. We shall have a fine Sunday dinner together, then.”

The plan was quickly agreed upon and in short order the two gentlemen had remounted their horses.

Darcy gave Elizabeth a long look and received a confused smile in return.

He sensed something was wrong and it was in his nature to wish to fix it, but he also guessed that the Bennet family would prefer some privacy.

Fitzwilliam had to believe that their understanding was strong enough that Elizabeth would send him a note if she required his assistance.

Once the riders disappeared around the corner of the drive, Mrs. Bennet turned agonized eyes on her husband, wringing her hands. “Will they stand by us? Will they still marry our girls?”

Mr. Bennet was genuinely confused. “Whatever are you speaking of, Fanny? Of course the weddings shall go on as planned! Did we not just spend two weeks in London buying out all the shops and warehouses for their trousseaus?”

“But what of Lydia? Is she ruined? I’ve heard nothing from you since the express saying that she was joining you on the trip to London!

And now all anyone can talk about is Lieutenant Wickham being arrested and court marshaled, and that Colonel Forster has accused his wife of adultery and is suing for divorce… ”

Mrs. Bennet gulped a breath, tears flowing freely now. “Oh Thomas, I’m not so stupid that I would fail to notice that Lydia went missing on the very day of Mr. Wickham’s desertion… Did she run away with him?”

Surprise and guilt locked Mr. Bennet’s throat, for, to be honest, he had given no thought to how the news might have affected his wife.

He had received several letters from her but, not wishing to diminish his pleasant mood while at the Gardiners’, he had put off opening them, using them as bookmarks instead.

“Oh, Mama…” Jane gripped her mother’s hand tightly. Elizabeth could tell from her expression that her elder sister was already blaming herself, though she had done no less than Lizzy, and certainly they both appeared to have done more than their father.

The two girls had each sent several long, chatty letters from London, relating their shopping and the success of the Gardiners’ party.

Jane had described her future home on Waverley Street and the various plans for its renovation, while Elizabeth had provided some details of Derwent House and Darcy’s Fitzwilliam relations, knowing how her mother would enjoy the news that her daughter had been invited to call the Countess of Matlock, ‘Aunt’.

But now, Elizabeth was awash with guilt at seeing how her mother and younger sisters had worried.

Giving Mary and Catherine a small smile that she hoped rather than knew would reassure, Elizabeth stepped forward and took her mother’s hand.

“Be easy, Mama. It has all turned out well. Come into the drawing room; we shall have some tea and explain it all.”

“Oh Lizzy, are you sure? We’re not ruined—you’re certain?”

With only a little trouble, the sisters were able to guide Mrs. Bennet inside, where Elizabeth rang for refreshments while Jane settled their mother in her favorite chair.

Once Mrs. Hill had set out the tea things and all were served, Elizabeth shut the door and turned to look around the room.

Catherine and Mary were seated close together on the sofa, silent and confused, while Jane had knelt at their mother’s feet rather than break that lady’s tight grip on her hand.

Elizabeth looked to her father to begin, but it was quickly apparent that Mr. Bennet was too befuddled by the unexpected situation to take control. Lizzy sighed, but after receiving a silent appeal from her elder sister, she took a deep breath and did her best.