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She closed her eyes and he watched her literally shake the annoyance away.

“What do you propose to do?”

“Be prepared. I will have all the spare men in the taverns on the west and south side of the town. All of the guards will sleep fully dressed, with their weapons to hand. We will not stand guard all night, we have no way of knowing when they are going to try and sneak up. The two gamekeepers will be awake at night for the next month. They can sleep during the day.

--

“You are not staying with us Richard?”

Georgiana had turned in on herself since her presentation. She had exhibited well on the day, and in the immediate aftermath. But now she was back to being the timid creature they had become used to since Ramsgate. Nothing appeared to be working to ease her mind.

“I have sufficient duties that it is easier for me to remain at the barracks. While the Mess there is small, there is a sufficiency of gentlemen that it is not a problem. What are your own plans?”

“I have nothing settled yet. When William arrives at the end of the week I will talk with him as to the plans for the autumn. I may return to Pemberley. I have no wish to return to London until February at the earliest.”

It was the closest to an opinion she had mentioned in months. But it was noticeable that she was ready to hide away at Pemberley.

“You did not enjoy your first season?”

“The start was lovely, my curtsey to the Queen was the highlight, as it should be. I enjoyed all the preparations, the fittings, the theatre of it all. The rest of the season however? It was not as enjoyable as I had anticipated. I am not good at meaningless conversation.”

“Meaningless?”

“The talk at events, be it a Ball, an exhibition at a gallery, even something as straightforward as sitting in a tearoom or at Gunther’s. Everyone seems to talk, yet say very little. And there is such a focus on gossip which always worries me.”

What Georgiana Darcy was not sufficiently self-aware to acknowledge was that she herself was unable to converse at all, be it meaningless or profound. She had a privileged life, materially she had nothing to worry about. Yet the Sword of Damocles hung above her head, the knowledge that Wickham was out there, and knew her deepest and most shameful secret.

And her brother had let the man walk away. Every time Richard thought on it, he could feel his blood start to boil. And Darcy was the one that was precious, and happy to throw his wealth in Richard’s face.

The prospect of the family dinner was not so appealing. He stopped and remembered back to the conversation with his mother. ‘All the family together’. But she had ignored her sister in law and niece. What better way to annoy Darcy, and still be (mostly) blameless than ensuring that Lady Catherine and cousin Anne were at the dinner as well. Darcy might well be engaged by the end of the meal.

Time to write a letter.

--

Elizabeth and Harriet had prepared for months in anticipation of meeting Fitzwilliam Darcy. Before she ever hung the knocker on the door of Napier House, they had talked through how to handle the meeting, and the inevitable accusations.

“Miss Bennet? Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”

It was the third week of August and suddenly the long overdue encounter was upon her. Darcy was on his own, she had stepped down from her carriage, and was accompanied by Harriet Underwood, as well as Daisy, one of her outdoor maids. Mr. Jones was also there behind her, as always she took comfort just from his presence. But in addition to those beside her, the coachman and the second guard, Huddleston, both had their hands in hidden compartments of the coach. It was clear to everyone watching that they had hold of a pistol and could bring it to bear in an instant.

“I do not know who you think you are accosting Lady Napier in the street in this manner, but you will cease at once. This is Lady Napier not whoever you were shouting about.”

Harriet had been practicing her cold and supercilious tone.

“No doubt an actress, one of your tawdry acquaintances.”

The verbal poniard threw Darcy back on his heels. But he was too shocked at seeing the woman before him to fully take on board the words. He continued to stare.

“Mr. Jones, this man is starting to make me uncomfortable. Clear him out the way. I will send for the magistrate when I return home. To think that a Baroness can be accosted in this manner on the streets of Bath. It is an outrage.”

Darcy found his voice.

“I do not know under what falsehood you are masquerading, but you are Elizabeth Bennet.”

They had considered and planned for this very situation, these very words.

“Do you have any proof for this slander? Or am I, as a mere woman, expected to immediately bow down to the pronouncements of a man. I have proof of who I am. You have not even had the courtesy to bow and request an introduction.”