FITZWILLIAM DARCY WALKED along the streets of London with his cousin, the colonel. The two had been sparring at Angelo’s fencing salon, and were now headed to their club for an afternoon repast.
Darcy was loath to raise the subject on his mind. But in fact, it was his duty. He and Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam shared guardianship of Georgiana.
“I received a distressing missive from my aunt Ellsworth,” Darcy began. Georgiana had been staying with a matronly widowed aunt—his father’s sister.
“Is something amiss with Georgiana?” Richard asked.
Darcy heaved a deep sigh. The summer sun was hot, and coal dust hung in the air. “She has become ungovernable, according to my aunt. I thought Georgiana would be happy in the country, enjoying the dogs and horses. But she seems to think I sent her to
