Page 22 of Dear Friend

Darcy turned his attention towards the window. “Perhaps.”

Richard allowed the subject to rest, permitting another stretch of silence before clearing his throat. “And what of you?”

“What of me?” Darcy grimaced.

“You look scarcely better than Georgiana.”

Darcy gave him a tired glance. “I am perfectly well.”

“I did not ask whether you were ill.”

For once, Darcy lacked the energy to resent the observation.

“I am tired,” he admitted after a moment. “Tired of Wickham. Three years of settling his occasional debts and difficulties, of hearing his name when I had hoped never to hear it again. I thought the matter finished. Then I found him at Ramsgate, within reach of Georgiana, and discovered that he had been planning this while I congratulated myself upon having placed her in safe hands.”

Richard said nothing, leaving him to continue.

“And I have not even the satisfaction of having caught him,” Darcy went on. “He was gone before I could lay a hand upon him.”

“Where to?” Richard asked at last.

“I do not know.”

“Do you mean to search for him?”

“Not immediately.” Darcy rubbed a hand across his brow. “My first concern is Georgiana. Wickham may go to the devil by whatever road he chooses, provided that road does not bring him near my sister again.”

Richard’s mouth tightened, but he did not disagree.

“I do not know what he may say of the affair,” Darcy continued. “A man capable of this will hardly be restrained by delicacy merely because he has failed. The fewer people who know what occurred at Ramsgate, the safer Georgiana will be.”

“You need have no concern on my account.”

“I know. That is why I am telling you in the first place.”

The certainty of the answer softened something in Richard’s expression.

Darcy sighed before continuing. “Once Mrs. Reynolds arrives and Georgiana is settled, I mean to leave Town for a while.”

“With Georgiana?”

“No. She will remain here in London and continue with her education. I hope to have another companion settled with her before I leave, though I will not make the choice hastily. Once that is done, I think it may be better for her if I am absent for a little while.”

Richard regarded him with some surprise. “You mean to leave her now?”

“Not until another companion is with her.” Darcy paused, searching for the proper words. “Georgiana watches me too closely at present. Every look, every silence, she seems to interpret as further proof that I am disappointed in her. If I remain constantly at her side, I fear she will begin to feel herself under observation, however carefully I assure her otherwise.”

Richard considered this. “There may be some sense in that.”

“She must understand that I trust her still. I cannot accomplish that by behaving as though she must never be left beyond my sight.”

“No,” Richard agreed. “I suppose you cannot.”

“As for myself,” Darcy continued, one brow raised, “I require quiet, and I confess I have little desire for society at present. I would rather go somewhere I am not known.”

“Then not Pemberley?”

“Not yet.”