Page 133 of Honor Requires

Darcy did not answer.

Fitzwilliam leaned back, studying him.

“You speak of justice,” he said. “You speak of righting what was done. Yet you walk a path that may cost you more than you intend.”

Darcy’s gaze lowered briefly, then lifted again.

“They will not go unpunished,” he repeated.

“And if you lose yourself in the process?”

Darcy frowned. For a long moment, he did not move, did not speak, did not even appear to breathe. The long-standing certainty that propelled him remained, though unease had begun to creep into it.

Fitzwilliam did not press further. Instead, he shifted the ground of the conversation.

“What of Elizabeth?”

The name struck deeper than all that had come before.

Darcy’s composure faltered, though only slightly.

“She knows—she allows you your concealment. She speaks to you as you present yourself, though she sees beyond it.”

Darcy’s expression tightened.

“She has loved you without interruption. Through your absence. Through your presumed death. She has held to you when all reason would have counseled otherwise.” Fitzwilliam paused. “I gave her the miniature. She keeps it still.”

Darcy closed his eyes briefly.

“She did not know of the connection between our families,” Fitzwilliam said. “Not until after Jane’s engagement to my brother. For years, she has been the only true link between Georgiana and those who would care for her. Letters passed without display, without expectation.” His voice hardened. “And this is how you would repay her?”

Darcy did not answer.

“Marry her,” Fitzwilliam said, the words simple and direct. “Take your place. Leave this pursuit behind. There is happiness within your reach, if you would only claim it.”

A faint, incredulous sound escaped Lucien. “Vendicarsi,” he said lightly. “A name that proclaims revenge; even so, we are assured the intention is justice. I suspect more than one gentleman of Italian acquaintance has found the choice…interesting.”

Fitzwilliam glanced at him, then back to Darcy.

Darcy’s mouth tightened. “I cannot stop now.”

Fitzwilliam studied him. “Because you are close.”

“Yes.”

“Then finish it,” Fitzwilliam said. “But understand this. The Home Office has been watching Hargrave and Langford for some time. Gardiner’s information has provided some of what we lacked. We will act eventually. Your involvement is not needed.”

Lucien inclined his head. “Darcy has gathered a considerable amount of evidence. Their activities are well-documented. It would bring a quick end to everything.”

“They are impatient,” Darcy added. “A shipment has been delayed. Hargrave grows restless.”

Fitzwilliam nodded slowly. “Then we move soon.”

Quietude descended again.

“What of Elizabeth?” Fitzwilliam asked again.

Darcy’s gaze shifted, though not toward either of them. It rested somewhere beyond the walls of the room, beyond the present moment entirely.