Page 148 of Honor Requires

At certain junctures, their discourse extended considerably, encompassing topics of both trivial and profound nature, while at other times, a comfortable silence would prevail. In those intervals, Darcy found himself observing her with a steadiness he did not attempt to disguise. He noted the ease of her movements, the quick intelligence of her expression, the warmth that animated her features when she smiled. There had been a time when he believed such observation a luxury forever denied him. Now, it seemed almost unreal that he might indulge it so freely.

With each meeting, the burden he had carried for so long grew less oppressive.

It did not vanish. The past could not be so easily set aside, nor did he wish it to be. There were still wrongs to be addressed, still truths to be brought to light. The sharp edge of his resentment dulled in ways he had not anticipated. The anger that had once sustained him no longer held the same power. In its stead, a new, less engrossing and equally steadfast, phenomenon arose.

He thought of Hargrave and Langford often. Their names did not provoke in him the same immediate fury as before. Instead, they occupied a more distant place in his mind, as though the urgency of their downfall had been tempered by the knowledge that it was already in motion. He did not seek out Richard for news, though the inclination remained. He understood, now more clearly than ever, that such matters required patience. Ships did not arrive at a man’s command, nor did the machinery of the law move with haste for any individual, however deserving. To interfere would be to risk all that had been carefully arranged. So, he resisted.

Lucien, observing these changes, offered no direct comment, though his satisfaction was evident in the ease with which he moved about the house and in the occasional glance he cast toward Darcy when he thought himself unobserved. He remained, as ever, a resolute presence, his counsel neither intrusive nor absent, but precisely suited to the moment.

“You are learning,” he said one evening, as they sat together in the smaller drawing room at Ashcombe House, a decanter of port between them.

Darcy raised a brow. “Am I? Learning what?”

“To live again,” Lucien replied.

Darcy did not answer at once. He turned the glass in his hand, watching the dark liquid catch the light. “Perhaps,” he said noncommittally.

Lucien smiled faintly and said no more.

Richard, too, became a frequent presence at Matlock House, though his attentions were divided between his family and the constant vigilance he maintained over Darcy’s situation. There was an understanding between them now that required little expression. Where once there had been questions and doubt, there was now a shared purpose, tempered by an awareness of the limits of what each could control.

Elizabeth, in her own manner, proved no less constant. She spoke openly of her concerns, though never in a way that suggested mistrust. Rather, she approached the subject of his past with a careful balance of sympathy and practicality, appearing determined to understand fully without allowing herself to be overwhelmed by it.

It was during one such walk that she spoke of Darcy House. “I have called there twice more,” she said, as they moved along a path bordered by low hedges just beginning to fill with green.

Darcy turned his attention fully to her. “And?”

“She continues to receive me kindly,” Elizabeth replied. “Your sister, I mean.”

A faint tension passed through him at the mention.

“She appears well,” Elizabeth told him. “Content, even. There is something—”

She paused, considering her words.

“It is in the way she defers. It is not entirely natural.”

Darcy’s expression grew more intent. “Mrs. Younge?”

“Yes.”

Elizabeth’s brows drew together.

“She is always present. Always attentive. It is not the attention of a servant, nor even of a companion.”

She hesitated.

“It feels more controlling.”

Darcy exhaled slowly. “That does not surprise me.”

Elizabeth glanced at him. “You know her better than I.”

“I know enough,” he said. They walked a few steps in silence before he added, “She is Hargrave’s sister.”

Elizabeth stopped. “What?”

Darcy turned to face her. “It is true. The connection was not immediately apparent, but it has been confirmed.”