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D arcy bowed at her, dreading the moment he would need to walk away from her for another week. But he must speak to Richard.

Wickham! That reprobate was always there, it seemed, always spoiling every moment when he tried to live his life leaving the memories of the past behind.

For a few minutes, he stood alone against the wall, watching her as she moved away with her partner for the fourth.

He remembered the touch of her hand, her words, her luminous gaze as she looked at him.

He delighted in the memory of their serious conversation, and felt the warmth as she was able to discuss matters of the Bennet family with him.

He was probably the only person from town who actually knew them, and he was pleased to be able to have a more knowledgable conversation with her about them. He thought it made a difference.

Finally, he sighed. The Johnsons were holding a ball early next week. It was considered the final large occasion of the season. He would attend that, but would she be there? He didn’t know, and he relived her words, feeling it might have been a final goodbye for the season.

But I will miss these dances. I cannot imagine I will see you during the rest of the year.

Surely she would not marry this year? Darcy couldn’t countenance the thought.

The duke had only just brought her into society — he could not wish to force an early marriage for her.

Frowning, Darcy began to pace along the wall.

The second dance she’d been with the Earl of Trenton, and this fourth was with Baron Walsall.

Darcy frowned. Was the man looking for a titled marriage for her? Some of the possible contenders flitted through his mind, and he began to feel ill at his thoughts.

Richard. Darcy looked around the room. He could speak to Richard about Wickham. Then he would stop thinking about Elizabeth’s future, and try to make it as safe as he could for her, should she go to Longbourn; though he thought it unlikely she would be there often.

His cousin was leaning against a pillar, watching the dancers with a hooded expression. Darcy grinned. “Watching the dancing and not taking a partner yourself, cousin? Your mother would berate you for that.”

The corner of Richard’s mouth turned up. “But she isn’t here tonight, as you well know.”

He pushed himself away from the wall. “Let’s get a drink and find somewhere to sit.”

A few minutes later, Darcy was sitting with his cousin in a quiet corner of the salon, knowing the noise of other gentlemen at the card tables would quite drown out their conversation.

“The duke watched your dance with Lady Elizabeth very closely, you know.” Richard sipped at his whisky.

“So did you, I have no doubt,” Darcy replied morosely.

“I saw when you missed a step at something she said.” Richard’s voice was light, but his gaze astute.

“She said Wickham’s name,” Darcy grunted, interested to see how his cousin would react.

“What?” The glass shattered as Richard slammed it onto the table, and Darcy pushed his chair back to avoid the spillage.

“Richard!”

“Sorry.” Richard nodded apologetically at the footman who hurried towards them with a cloth, and stood up.

“Let’s walk on the terrace, Darcy.”

A few moments later, he turned to Darcy. “So where did she get to know that libertine?”

“He’s joined the Warwickshire militia. They’re quartered at Meryton, which is close to Longbourn where she was being raised by the Bennet family.”

“What are you going to do?”

Darcy sighed. “I have to get him away from there. While I do not think she will spend much time there, he cannot be permitted to be a danger to her, or the rest of the family.”

“No, you are right. If he can attach himself to one of the younger daughters, he will be a leech on the Osbornes forever.”

Darcy nodded. “At least she has ensured the younger two are now away at schools to learn some manners. But I think it places her in more danger. We know what he is like.” He sighed again. “But I worry what he’ll say about Georgiana if I have his debts called in.”

Richard glanced at him. “Are you still too squeamish for me to arrange a more permanent silence?”

“I can’t allow it.” Darcy met his gaze. “He is not worth you risking the hangman’s noose.”

“You don’t think much of my abilities.” Richard’s lazy smile concealed the iron strength forged in battle. Darcy knew he could never comprehend what his cousin had endured.

“No. I will have to take the usual course.” He turned at the end of the terrace and they strolled back. “I’ll send for the debts I have have bought up and stored at Pemberley. Lady Elizabeth is safe in town at the moment, so the few days it will take are of no matter.”

Richard was regarding him steadily, but with some apparent sympathy.

“What is it?”

“You do know the duke will never allow you an alliance with his daughter?”

“I know that,” Darcy growled, and turned back into the house. Richard could not continue to vex him if they were in the ballroom where they might be overheard.

Why was he doing this? He knew she would never be his. He huffed a laugh — at least he knew it in his mind, but his heart was different.

He must make her safe. This was something only he could do for her.

In a few days, when the debts had arrived from Pemberley, he could go to Netherfield and have Wickham taken into custody, and she would be safer. And he could talk to Mrs. Bingley about her, hear of her news — he smiled, Elizabeth would always write to her sister.

But Richard was beside him again. “Who will you dance with now, Darcy? My mother will want to know.” His smile was twisted wryly.

Darcy groaned. He could not countenance another dance. There was no prospect of speaking to Elizabeth again tonight, and he turned to his cousin.

“No, I must go home to think. I will see you at the club again soon, no doubt.” He nodded brusquely at him and strode from the room.

He waited in the hall for his coach to be brought round. He could think about her in the silence, even though the journey was not particularly long.

But then Richard was beside him, drawing on his own gloves. “I’ll come with you, if I may, Darcy. Then I can see Georgiana at breakfast while you write your letters.”

Darcy had no good reason to refuse him just because he wanted to think about Elizabeth, so he merely grunted.

“We need to think about some way of getting the duke more amenable to the thought of you.”

Darcy didn’t remove his gaze from the coach window as his cousin talked. If he hadn’t been able to think of a way all these weeks, there could not be one.

“Perhaps once you have rid the neighbourhood of Wickham, you could write and tell him what you have heroically done to keep his daughter safe?”

Darcy shrugged. “I have been writing my condolences each year with no single response or acknowledgment. I doubt he even reads them.” Then he hesitated, his foot on the step. Who was it? Yes. Bennet.

“He even told me of your latest letter, telling him of your care for his wife’s grave. I believe that made enough of an impression on him to begin to thaw his bitterness, although you are in a fair way to restore it with your pursuit of Elizabeth.”

Would it be possible the man might allow him to court Lady Elizabeth? His heart pounded. The opportunity to see her each day, to bow over her hand. His lips pulsed with the thought.

But Elizabeth had spoken to him only tonight. Again the words rang in his mind.

“I cannot imagine I will see you during the rest of the year.”

This could not be possible.