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“Keep your guard up,” Darcy told him.

“I did not ask for your advice,” Bingley shot back.

“You would benefit from it.”

“Perhaps.” Bingley feinted to the right, but Darcy was not fooled by it. “I rather like my set at Albany.”

“So I understand.”

“But soon I will be returning to Netherfield.”

That did distract Darcy, though not enough to cost him a blow. He drove Bingley back and then waited for him to circle away.

“When?”

“A few days. If the house cannot be opened in good time, I shall stay at the inn.”

Now what? Miss Jane Bennet would not be at Longbourn. She and her sister were both in London, somewhere on Gracechurch Street. And Bingley was about to waste significant effort and expense, only to find that the woman he sought was three miles away from him in London.

“You said you would not travel back.”

“I said I would not return as planned. This is later than I planned.”

“I would not do that,” Darcy said, then dodged a blow aimed at his jaw.

“Yes,” Bingley said, retreating. “You have made your opinion quite clear.”

He struck again. Darcy blocked him.

“Returning will revive every expectation we sought to quiet.”

“Every expectation you sought. When did you become my sisters’ friend rather than mine?”

That was unfair. “I am attempting,” Darcy said, striking out and catching Bingley on his left side, “to help you. Do you suppose Mrs. Bennet will be more restrained upon your return?”

“No.” Bingley landed a glancing blow against Darcy’s ribs. “I expect that Mrs. Bennet will be just the same.”

They both stepped back, hands up.

“Then what has changed?”

“I had a night without everyone else telling me what I ought to think. It is a wonderful thing, a little solitude.” Bingley advanced, hit Darcy in the shoulder harder than before, and retreated. “I begin to see why you enjoy it.”

Darcy pressed forward. Bingley’s guard was down, his footwork careless because he was focused on his anger and not the man before him. Darcy touched his chest, his shoulder, the side of his head, and then stepped away before Bingley could answer.

“What do you intend to do once there?”

“I will ask Miss Bennet if she cares for me.”

“She spoke to your sister and said she did not. Miss Bennet clearly knew you would be informed.”

Bingley stepped up again. “Did she tell you?”

“No, of course not.”

“Did you ask?”

“It would not have been proper. Really, Bingley.”