Page 210 of A Question of Character

Darcy conceded the point with a weary motion of his head.

The innkeeper himself undertook to dispatch the express. Darcy paid liberally and instructed that fresh horses be secured without delay. The man bowed repeatedly, his earlier uneasiness replaced by eagerness to satisfy a gentleman whose purse had already exceeded the value of every room in the establishment.

When the door closed behind him, the breakfast remained untouched.

Wickham broke a piece from a loaf and regarded it with little enthusiasm before setting it down again.

“You should eat.”

“So should you.”

“I intend to.”

Neither did.

A knock interrupted them.

Mrs. Younge entered under the watchful eye of the innkeeper’s wife. She appeared greatly altered from the woman who had accompanied Georgiana into the yard the previous afternoon. Her gown remained elegant enough, but haste had left loose strands escaping beneath her cap, and the confidence with which she had defended Wycombe had deserted her.

She curtsied.

“Mr. Darcy.”

He did not invite her to sit.

“I believe we have several matters requiring explanation.”

She clasped her hands together.

“I have little to add.”

“I think you have a great deal.”

Her eyes shifted briefly toward Wickham before returning to Darcy.

“I acted for what I believed Miss Darcy’s happiness.”

“Then begin there.”

Mrs. Younge drew a careful breath.

“George has been my godson since infancy. His mother was my dearest friend.”

“So you renewed the acquaintance after leaving Pemberley.”

“Yes.”

“You sought him.”

“He sought me.”

Darcy made no comment.

She continued with evident reluctance.

“He had known Miss Darcy at Ramsgate. He admired her exceedingly.”

Wickham let out a sound that might have been a laugh.