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She seemed to believe his threat, or at least thought the risk of it was too high to gamble with, and so she reopened the door.

"What is it you want, Mr Darcy?" she said in a haughty tone.

"I am looking for that reprobate Wickham," he said.

"I am sure I don't know where he is."

The look in her eyes told him she was lying.

"The woman he is with is my sister-in-law," he said, "and she is but sixteen and taken without her mother’s consent. So unless you wish me to return here with the magistrate to find out what you know, I suggest—"

"What is it worth to you?" she spat out.

And although he didn't want to give the woman money, he thought it was the quickest way to get what he did want – to find Wickham and Lydia.

"Here," he said, dangling a pouch of coins.

When she went to take it, he snatched it back.

"You can have it once I've found Wickham. If your information proves false, well, there'll be no money."

"How am I to trust you will return with the money?" Mrs Younge asked.

Darcy shook his head and clicked his tongue. "You think I am the untrustworthy one in this exchange?" He sighed, took out two coins and handed them to her.

"There. Take them. Give me his location, and if I find him there, you shall have the rest."

"Very well. He's in a flat on Ashcombe Street, opposite the inn. Don't tell him I sent you, though, or he shan't be happy."

Darcy didn't think he'd be happy either way. But he simply nodded and took his leave, pushing his poor horse on to Ashcombe Street.

He would have to spend yet another night away, whatever the outcome, even though he did not wish to be away from Elizabeth or Georgiana. He needed to rest, and he would need to change horses yet again. He could not be on his way again as quickly as he would like. But as long as he found them…

Wickham did not answer the door immediately. Darcy wasn't surprised. He was fairly sure he'd seen Lydia in the window, and so Wickham had surely been apprised of his arrival.

But he kept hammering on it until, at last, Wickham appeared in the doorway, looking uneasy.

"You'll wake the whole neighbourhood up, old chap," he said, clapping Darcy on the back.

Darcy grimaced at the friendly action. "They'll certainly wake up when the magistrate comes calling," he said.

"Whoa, whoa. Calm down, Darcy. Magistrates? I've done nothing wrong."

"You've married her then, have you?" Darcy asked.

"Well, not yet, no. But that's not illegal, is it?"

"You utter reprobate," Darcy said, jabbing his finger in the centre of Wickham's chest. "I should have told the world what you were when I had the chance, rather than let you pull some unsuspecting girl into your clutches again."

"How is Georgiana?" Wickham asked, a smug smile dancing on his lips.

Darcy was very tempted to pull back his fist and punch him in the mouth, but he supposed that would not get him the end he was looking for.

No, he could do that later.

"You will marry her," Darcy said.

"Well, you know..." Wickham began, and Darcy lowered his voice even further.