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T homas Bennet read the note from Darcy again, frowning. He wondered if the man intended to ask permission to pay his addresses to Elizabeth. It would mean the end of her time here — the duke would summon her to London without delay, even if Bennet refused him permission.

He raised his eyebrows at her, and handed her the note. “I expect him forthwith, Lizzy, so we do not have long to talk.”

She read rapidly and handed him back the note. “I can’t imagine what it is about, Papa. He looked so disapproving this morning. I mean, he was scowling when he asked for the supper dance. I don’t know why he did it.”

“I will ask him,” Bennet promised. “But I am sure you know what it means.”

She looked around his book room wistfully. “You mean Father will call me to town and I will miss the ball.”

“I’m afraid so,” Bennet said as gently as he could. His time of being her papa was drawing to a close. He knew that, and, while logic told him it would have happened soon in any event, he could not but project his disappointment onto Darcy.

“Well,” Elizabeth was obviously controlling her emotion with difficulty. “I will go for a walk, I think. Oakham Mount will calm me a little. I hope I can have several more days to walk there.”

“Take Dawlish with you. He knows to keep well back so you can enjoy the solitude.”

He knew his own eyes were moist as he watched her leave the room, her posture upright and defiant.

Bennet crossed the room and rang the bell, and smiled at the housekeeper when she opened the door. “Bring me coffee, please, Hill. And have the water hot for tea when my caller arrives.”

He needed a whisky, but he must keep his wits about him.

He sat with his hands curled around the cup, seeking comfort as much as warmth.

He must discover how much Darcy knew about Elizabeth.

He would reveal nothing himself. Then he would write to her father.

He blinked the moisture from his eyes; whatever he wrote, the duke would take Elizabeth to London.

He would miss her.

It was only a short while later when he heard the door knocker, and drew breath. He had only a moment before his visitor would be announced.

“Mr. Darcy, sir.” Hill withdrew as the gentleman entered the room and bowed.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me at short notice, Mr. Bennet.”

“I am at your service, Mr. Darcy.” Bennet waved the man into a chair. “Can I offer you a drink? You look as if you need one. Or tea?”

“A whisky would be welcome, thank you.”

Bennet got up and poured a drink for each of them. As he handed one to his guest, he looked at him carefully.

The younger man appeared to be his usual grave and unsmiling self, but Bennet could see the hidden disquiet beneath. He returned to his chair.

“I am curious as to the nature of what you wish to speak to me about, Mr. Darcy, and the apparent urgency.”

The other grimaced, and placed his glass carefully on the small side table. He reached into his pocket. “I believe this letter from my aunt might outline the reason, Mr. Bennet. I received it just after luncheon.”

Bennet leaned forward and accepted the sheets. “Which part of it do you wish me to read?”

“The whole letter concerns this business, Mr. Bennet.” Darcy picked up his glass and sat back.

Bennet regarded him thoughtfully. It appeared that Darcy had relaxed slightly when he had passed the letter over, as if he had been in some doubt until the decision was final.

He smiled slightly as he opened the letter, his curiosity causing him to scan it quickly. His eyebrows rose, and he turned to the beginning to read it more carefully.

Bennet pretended he was still reading for a moment or two while he thought. Then he folded the letter and extended it to Darcy.

“You cannot be under any apprehensions as to my response to this, Mr. Darcy.”

Darcy bowed his head. “I don’t imagine so.” He raised his head. “I am here only to warn you as to the nature of Collins, and to tell you what I am sure you know — that the man would not make a good husband to any of your daughters.” He looked with faint disgust at the letter.

“My aunt has not given thought to the life Collins’ wife would have, and I would like to express my opposition that Miss Elizabeth’s happiness could be so easily discarded.”

Bennet raised his eyebrow. “Surely that is my decision, Mr. Darcy?”

The other nodded. “Of course. My thought was that it might assist you if you knew the man’s character from before he came here and you were able to add it to whatever you have discerned for yourself.”

Bennet nodded. It was a tactful way of explaining himself. But …

He met his guest’s gaze. “And what are your intentions towards Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy? I have heard that you requested the supper dance at Mr. Bingley’s ball.”

The man retreated into his cold and haughty demeanour. But he could not conceal the dark flush which spread across his features.

“I requested that dance because I wish Miss Elizabeth to have a pleasant time at supper, and I will be sitting with Bingley and Miss Bennet. I think Miss Elizabeth should like to sit with her sister.” He looked steadily at Bennet.

“But I do not have any intentions toward your daughter, Mr. Bennet. I have a sister who will have her come-out in two years’ time, as well as family expectations that I should marry within the first circles. ”

He rose to his feet and crossed to the window, unconsciously revealing his agitation. “Your daughter is all that is delightful, Mr. Bennet. But I am an honourable man and will not take any advantage of seeming to accept any overtures.”

“What?” Bennet was on his feet. “Are you intimating that Elizabeth has made overtures to you?”

Darcy spun round, his face guarded. “Not at all, sir. Miss Elizabeth is perfectly behaved. But there were some conversations at Netherfield when she was staying with her sister, that …”

“She teased you, and made some remarks that were close to impertinent, I suppose.” Bennet sank back into his chair.

“Well, yes.” Darcy seemed uncomfortable.

“Take my advice, Mr. Darcy, and read nothing into that. Elizabeth treats those she likes and dislikes with the same light-hearted tendency. You ought to read nothing into it. Nothing at all.”

He smiled wryly. Mr. Darcy looked almost offended at the thought someone might not be pursuing his eligible self.

“Then I apologise if I have raised any expectations, Mr. Bennet.” The man had retreated into his haughty self. “But I still have hope that my aunt’s letter might put you on your guard as regards Collins, and I will take my leave of you.”

Bennet rose to his feet. “I thank you for the information, Mr. Darcy. Mr. Collins has not asked for permission to approach Elizabeth — or any of my daughters, and I have no intention of permitting him to make an offer. Although I am sorry for what will come to pass for Longbourn when I am gone.” He sighed.

“But there is nothing I can do about it.”

He saw Mr. Darcy to the door and watched thoughtfully as the man rode away. It seemed the man had no suspicion as to Elizabeth’s true identity — which was good — but, despite himself, he was interested. That was not so good.

If the duke was to maintain his animosity to the Darcys then Elizabeth ought not to be here. Darcy seemed a stubborn man. If he decided to pursue Elizabeth, her life might be torn between him and her father.

Bennet knew that whatever she had said to him, her vehement dislike of Darcy hid an emotion she could not recognise.

Bennet sighed and turned back to his library. He must write to the duke, and then Elizabeth’s destiny would no longer be in his hands. He blinked a few times; it was the right thing to do. But he did not know what to tell her.

His eyes misted up again as he read through his letter before folding it and writing the direction. The last sentences were so true.

It will break my heart that I can no longer see her each day, and will lose the lively debates and her sense of humour which we shared so often.

The rest of the family will be devastated, too.

But I can no longer be as certain of keeping her safe here, even with the extra staff.

So it is time she took her rightful place with you.