Page 131 of Honor Requires

Elizabeth felt the pressure upon her chest ease, if only a bit.

He was no longer alone in his knowing.

And neither was she.

Together, they would find a way to reach him, before he was lost beyond recall.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Darcy had just dismissed a footman with instructions regarding the afternoon’s correspondence when Mr. Gibbs appeared in the doorway, composed as ever, though there was a certain gravity to his expression that did not escape notice.

“A gentleman to see you, sir,” the butler said. “Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

Darcy stilled. For a brief moment, he said nothing at all. The name settled heavily in his mind, bringing with it a flood of memory so immediate and vivid that it threatened to break through the careful order he had imposed upon himself. He had known this moment must come. Ever since Lady Jersey’s ball, ever since that brief exchange of glances across a crowded room, he had been aware that concealment could not be maintained indefinitely.

Still, knowledge did little to lessen the impact of reality.

“Show him in,” Darcy said at last.

Gibbs inclined his head and withdrew.

Darcy remained where he stood, his hands clasped behind his back, his gaze fixed upon nothing in particular. He did not pace. He did not attempt to arrange his thoughts. There would be no time for preparation. Whatever was to pass between them would do so without artifice.

The door opened.

Richard Fitzwilliam entered with none of the calculated composure expected of a gentleman calling upon an acquaintance. His step was swift, his expression unguarded, his eyes already searching.

Gibbs closed the door behind him.

The moment the latch settled into place, Fitzwilliam crossed the room in three long strides and seized Darcy by the shoulders, pulling him into a fierce embrace.

Darcy stiffened. The instinct to resist, to hold himself apart, rose sharply, shaped by years of discipline and, more recently, by necessity. For the briefest instant, he remained rigid beneath the unexpected contact, his mind struggling to reconcile the present with all that had come before.

His resolve faltered. Darcy’s arms lifted of their own accord, returning the embrace with a force that surprised even himself.

Fitzwilliam drew back almost at once, though his hands remained upon Darcy’s arms as if to assure himself he was real. “You are alive,” he said, his voice breaking. “Heavens above, Darcy—how—where have you been? We thought—” He stopped, dragging a hand across his face, though it did little to conceal the tears that had already begun to fall. “There was a body! There were reports of highwaymen, but nothing certain, nothing that made sense. I identified the body myself. It was your clothing, your signet ring.”

The words came quickly, tumbling over one another, each question pressing against the next before Darcy could form any answer.

Darcy said nothing. He stood as he had stood before, though his composure was no longer quite so complete. He experienced an internal change, where something long held back began to stir due to the man standing before him.

Fitzwilliam’s grip tightened. “Why did you not come to us? Why did you not send word? Do you know what it did to Georgiana? To your family? To—” He broke off again, breath coming short, his emotions too near the surface to be contained.

Before Darcy could speak, another voice entered the moment. “I confess,” Lucien said from his seat near the fire, rising with unhurried ease, “there is a certain satisfaction in witnessing such a reunion.”

Fitzwilliam turned sharply.

Lucien inclined his head with a faint, knowing smile. “It seems, dear brother, that nothing may be concealed from those who truly know us.”

Darcy exhaled slowly and passed a hand over his face. “So, it would appear,” he said.

He gestured toward the chairs. “Sit, Richard.”

Fitzwilliam did not immediately comply. His gaze moved between Darcy and Lucien, taking in the latter with a keen, assessing look that spoke of long habit and sharper instincts.

“And this is—?”

“My friend,” Darcy said. “You may as well join us, Lucien.”