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“Not unduly.” He hesitated. “Miss Bennet, I wonder if you would permit me to walk with you part of your way back to Longbourn when you are ready to depart for home. I have something regarding our shared endeavour to tell you, and this is not the place for it.”

Elizabeth looked at him. She thought of Mrs Long, and of what “people might say” if she were seen being escorted home by Mr Darcy, then decided she did not care. “Yes, certainly,” she said. “Of course. This was the last of my errands today.”

They browsed for some minutes more, and when they had made their selections, they left the library together. Mr Darcy did not introduce the topic he had wished to communicate until they had gone nearly a quarter mile out of town.

“There is a piece of information that I should have told you some time ago,” he said, “but I wanted to be more certain that it was important before I did. Additionally, I wanted some evidence as assurance that my preconceptions were not assigning more importance to the incident that it deserved.”

Elizabeth looked at him, waiting.

“On the night of the ball, a footman came to me and reported that a soldier had been observed near the east wing, by the entrance that connects to the garden passage. Rather than attending the ball as a guest, he remained outside. This man was there for a considerable time, gaining the attention of the staff and earning a visit from the butler. He was pleasant upon being approached, but gave little indication of his business, and left in the direction of the gardens rather than the road when asked to leave.” Mr Darcy hesitated. “One of the servants overheard his name from an officer who seemed to recognise him. It was Wickham.”

Elizabeth’s steps slowed. “Mr Wickham? What would he have been doing at Netherfield? He did not attend the ball.”

“No,” Mr Darcy agreed. “He did not.” He looked at her, appearing to consider his words carefully. “The door he was waiting by is at the end of the corridor that contains the library. It is in the direction from which your sister Lydia approached the library, immediately before she entered and created that scene. I cannot tell you with any certainty that those things are connected, but I do not believe in coincidences of that magnitude, and I have written to a contact in his regiment to enquire further. I attempted some more discreet investigation first, but was not able to obtain answers to any of my questions.”

Elizabeth thought of the note that still lay hidden in her reticule. “You think that Mr Wickham is the one whom Lydia had arranged to meet. The one who wrote the note.”

“I think it is a possibility,” he said, his voice measured. Elizabeth looked at him suspiciously. She was coming to learn that when Mr Darcy was especially circumspect, he was not telling her all of his thoughts. “I have not yet received a reply to my letter, but when I do, I believe I will learn more.”

“I see,” Elizabeth said. She had not really spoken with Mr Wickham in some time, she realised, and she had not really thought about him that much either. How strange. She took a breath. “Will you share that information with me when you receive it?”

He nodded. “Regardless of whether it clears or implicates the man, I will share it.”

“Thank you,” Elizabeth said. She looked at the road ahead, considering. “I also have something that I wish to share with you, though it is less useful in terms of uncovering what occurred. Rather, it indicates a potential complication. I encountered Mrs Long this morning.”

“Ah,” Mr Darcy said with a small smile. Though it was left discretely unsaid, Elizabeth suspected his smile meant that Mrs Long was entirely unsurprising as a source of complications. “I believe that lady is a good friend of your mother, is she not?”

“And of myself as well,” Elizabeth agreed. “Though I did not enjoy our conversation today as much as usual.” She provided him with a concise account of the other woman’s warnings. He listened without interrupting, which she found she appreciated, as most people felt the need to interrupt a narrative with questions that would be answered if they would just let the telling continue. “So it appears that, unfortunately, that a long engagement, rather than dampening gossip, appears to be feeding it. The consensus now seems to be growing that Mr Bingley intends to withdraw. I suppose it is fair, considering that we would both like to dissolve the engagement, if only we could do so without scandal and ruin.”

Darcy was quiet for a moment. Elizabeth noted the set of his expressions that implied he was concentrating heavily, and then wondered with a surge of annoyance when she had begun to learn his expressions. Finally, he spoke.

“I have a suggestion,” he said. “You should come to Pemberley in the spring.” She started, and he lifted a hand, seeming to realise the bluntness of his statement. “You, and Miss Bennet, and Mr Bingley and his sisters, that is. I believe that there is merit in removing all the affected parties from Meryton for an extended time. Gossip is like fire — it cannot survive on its own; it must be fed. If you and Bingley and the rest were elsewhere, there is nothing to feed the gossip, and it must die down.”

Elizabeth was silent for a moment. “You are inviting Jane and me to visit Pemberley,” she said.

“And Bingley, and his sisters,” he reminded her. “I believe he would benefit from a change of scene.” Mr Darcy paused. “There is a question of chaperonage. Were my mother alive, it would not be an issue. Your mother…” He stopped.

“My mother would doubtless be very happy to come,” Elizabeth said carefully. How surprised Mr Darcy would be to learn that she was likely even less enthusiastic at the thought of her mother accompanying them to Pemberley than he was!

“Yes,” Mr Darcy agreed slowly. “However, I thought perhaps you might ask your father to accompany you instead. I mentioned that my library system is much in need of revision, and I do not believe that I am equal to the task. If your father might agree to lend his expertise in that direction, it would provide a reason for the visit that society would not question. Not to mention, of course, the benefit to the library itself.”

Elizabeth could not help but admire the neatness of this solution. Mr Darcy had proposed an excellent excuse for bringing Mr Bennet instead of Mrs Bennet, and her father’s presence would certainly be enough to ensure the appearance, at least, of being chaperoned, though she could not imagine what level of impropriety would have to exist to move Mr Bennet to intervene. She was really quite impressed. “That is something that my father would very much enjoy,” she said. “I must confess that I would as well.”

He smiled slowly, and Elizabeth felt a strange pang in her chest. “I hope then that you will accept,” he said after a moment.

Elizabeth realised she was smiling back at him with more warmth than the situation perhaps required. As he continued to smile, she also realised, with not a little alarm, that he was rather more handsome than she had previously admitted to herself. When he smiled, in fact, Mr Darcy was unquestionably the most handsome gentleman of her acquaintance.

This was not, Elizabeth reminded herself sharply, a useful observation. He disapproved of her family and of her, and was not helping out of any regard for her, but to keep his friend from being embroiled in a situation that her family had caused. She had always known this, and there was no reason at all that the thought should make her uncomfortable now.

“I will speak to my father regarding your offer,” she said, pleased that her voice came out as clear as ever.

“I will send him an official invitation,” he said, looking away. “That will make it less irregular. I am glad the idea suits you.”

“It suits me very well,” she said. “Indeed, it is more than I could have asked, Mr Darcy. If it is acceptable for —” she stopped, realising she was at risk of making things more awkward, rather than less. “Thank you,” she said simply instead.

He inclined his head. “Here is where our paths diverge,” he said abruptly. “Good day, Miss Elizabeth,” he nodded, and turned briskly and strode away.

Elizabeth stared after him, watching him go with a sense of bewilderment before continuing on her way to Longbourn.