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But that was silly, surely. She had no reason to suspect him of such calculation. Indeed, for the first quarter of an hour, Mr Wickham stayed as silent as she could have wished.

It was not until the second scene that he surprised her, whispering into her ear.

“What is your dream, Miss Bennet?”

It was an odd question to ask in the middle of a play. “I am not sure what you mean, Mr Wickham,” she whispered.

“I mean, for our marriage and our home? I know that there is a country estate that is due to you. It would be wonderful to have a place of our own. There are limitless possibilities.” Mr Wickham smiled warmly, leaning closer to her.

“Have you ever thought of what it will be like to run your own home someday? I confess, I would find it very difficult to be away from any home that we made together.”

Elizabeth’s throat and cheeks filled with heat.

Flattering as the attention was, she could not help but wonder why he was being so insistent.

“I have not given my future home much thought, past the basics. I believe knowing the man I will marry is more important than the home we will make together. At least for the time being.” She smiled sweetly and hoped it would be the last thing he said on the subject.

The more she stewed in silence, trying to keep her mind on the play and failing miserably, the more she felt that something was very wrong. Why was Mr Wickham being so forceful? Why did it feel as if he was trying to corral her into something?

Mr Darcy would never act in such a manner.

Elizabeth blinked, clasping her hands so tightly that she felt the bones creak.

Why had Mr Darcy come to mind at such a time?

She glanced at Mr Wickham, then looked away when she realised he was watching her.

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as she watched the play, feeling that she was standing at a crossroads.

Why was she thinking of Mr Darcy, of all people?

She had no feelings toward him but that of anger for mistreating Mr Wickham. She wanted nothing more to do with him.

Did she?

∞∞∞

Darcy could not take his eyes off her. She was all loveliness. But she was seated next to that man, his smug face making Darcy see red. Georgiana’s hand on his arm was the only thing that brought him back to the present.

He immediately turned to her, feeling like a scoundrel for ignoring his sister, who must be experiencing such pain at seeing the man who had nearly ruined her. “Oh, Georgiana. I am so sorry. I should have shielded you —”

“No. That is not your burden to bear,” Georgiana said.

She looked across to the box where Mr Wickham and Elizabeth sat together.

That was bad enough. Far worse was when Mr Wickham leaned closer to Elizabeth and seemed to whisper something.

He was not sure if he saw correctly, but he could almost distinguish a blush rising on her cheeks.

His concern for her was more than he could bear.

Darcy tried to look away, but he could not fight the bile rising in his throat, nor the wild beating of his heart.

He wished he could go up to their box and throw Mr Wickham out of it.

What were Mr and Mrs Gardiner thinking? How could they allow their niece to be in the company of such a blackguard?

Darcy reminded himself that he must not go.

It would be the height of impropriety to intrude on their party uninvited, let alone to have it out with Mr Wickham in front of the whole theatre.

And he would not leave Georgiana alone, either.

Nor would he dream of taking her with him.

He would never subject her to Mr Wickham’s presence ever again.

The play passed with increasing discomfort.

Darcy could hardly look away from Elizabeth, though he knew he could do nothing to help her.

Worse still, he looked at Georgiana with mounting concern, for it was all too obvious that she found it difficult to keep her composure.

At last, he could bear to watch her unease no longer.

When the second act was nearly over, Darcy leaned over to Georgiana and whispered in her ear.

“Are you ready to retire for the evening?” he asked.

She looked over at the box where Elizabeth and Wickham were seated.

“Yes, take me home. Oh, please, brother, take me home,” she said.

Georgiana’s grip was weak when he took her hand, and he privately cursed himself for not taking her away from the theatre the moment they had seen Wickham.

It was no wonder. The horrors that must have been filling her mind as she was forced to sit there and look at him.

And risk having him see her, looking at her across the theatre. It was unbearable.

“I am sorry, Georgiana. Please forgive me,” Darcy said as they walked out of the private box and into the deserted foyer. She stumbled as they walked across the floor, and he put a hand under her elbow to steady her. “I am a fool.”

Georgiana shook her head. “It is not your fault. I am only overtired,” she said, making excuses for his obtuseness.

But he knew, should have known from the moment she had seen Mr Wickham, that she was not fine.

She was not overtired. She was stricken, and he knew he had only contributed to her pain by making her stay.

He had been so worried about Elizabeth. What lies was Wickham telling her with that forked tongue? What plans was he making, and how could he save Elizabeth from them? He could not simply step in as he had with Georgiana, not without Mr Bennet’s permission. It was maddening.

“You are going to break the skin if you continue on like that,” Georgiana said, nodding to his palm.

After they had climbed into the carriage and were driven away from the front of the theatre, they had settled into a stony silence.

It was only then that he realised he had been digging his nails into his skin.

He took his hands away, giving a beseeching look to his sister.

“Forgive me,” he said again, his voice choked.

Georgiana huffed, then came and sat beside him. “I am not blaming you, brother. You know you had nothing to do with the incident.” She pressed his hand. “You saved me.”

“But I am not speaking of that incident. I am speaking of tonight. It was cruel of me to force you to stay in that place when I knew he was there.”

Georgiana cocked her head to the side and then looked down at her feet. “I will not pretend that seeing him did not make my heart stop this evening —”

Darcy drew in a quick breath. It seemed as though his worst fears were confirmed.

He had always wondered if her heart had ever healed from the love she had lavished on Wickham.

The man was a fool. Had his affections been genuine, had he even had the sense to pretend they were, he might have won a treasure of infinitely greater value than his sister’s dowry.

He would have won Georgiana herself, and she might have been the making of him — if he had let her.

But Georgiana was not done.

“I am not saying that he still holds my heart, nor even that he has any claim to my affection.” She moved back to the other side of the carriage and looked out the window for a moment at the passing carriages.

“Oh, no, that died a long time ago.” She looked back at him with a fire that he had never seen before.

“I do not grieve him anymore. I grieve for Miss Bennet.”

His heart skipped a beat. “You think her in danger?”

“Do not you?” Georgiana snapped. “That man will lead her astray, just as he did me. If you do not do something, she will find herself in the same position that I did. Only this time, there will be no one to save her. From what you have told me, her father hates Town. She has no brothers to help her. And her uncle seems oblivious to the danger.”

He could not account for her anger at first. “Georgiana —”

“No, Fitzwilliam. You cannot stand by idle and let her throw her life away as I nearly did.” She searched his face. “You must go to her and tell her what happened with Mr Wickham and I.”

Darcy paused a moment, shaken by the urgency of her demand. “Georgiana, I have never spoken of the incident, save for those who were a part of the —”

“I know. I know you have always been one to protect me, no matter the cost. But what will the cost to Miss Bennet be?” Georgiana took a steadying breath, and he knew she was crying.

He went to the other side of the carriage and held her close, as he had done when she was a little girl. She leaned into his shoulder.

“My dearest sister, I would never want to see you hurt. You know I had hoped this incident would be buried in the past, never to be spoken of again.” He took a deep breath.

“If you insist, I will go to her and tell her what he did to you, with a charge that she never speak of it to anyone. By now, I think I know her character well enough to say that she would be as silent as the grave.”

“I am not worried for myself,” Georgiana said. “He cannot hurt me anymore. But Miss Bennet — she seems so kind, so open-hearted. I do not want to think what that man would do to her if he convinced her to run away with him.”

Darcy felt his heart swell with pride. He had long known that Georgiana had a kind heart and a sweet temper, but there could be no greater reward than seeing the younger sister he had raised turning into a person of such strength and integrity.

“I praise your courage and empathy, Georgiana. I know what a sacrifice it must be for you to urge me on in this. But I assure you, I will do my best to shield her from Mr Wickham’s schemes. ”

Georgiana nodded. Though she managed a faint smile, she did not move away from her position, curled into his shoulder.

If Darcy could offer her any comfort, he would be glad of it.

He pulled out his handkerchief and handed it to her, continuing to hold her as they bumped along in the carriage.

When they arrived home, she went straight to her room.

He went to his as well, but could not bring himself to ring for the valet.

Darcy did not want to share his time with anyone who might intrude on his thoughts.

It was clear what had to be done, but how to go about it was the question.

The conversation could not help but be an awkward one.

It was a story of great intimacy to share with an acquaintance.

Inevitably, Elizabeth must question why he would tell her so great a secret about Georgiana.

And that question had only one answer, an answer that would demand he reveal all the passionate longing that had grown within his heart.