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"Harwood, do not attempt to intercede on his behalf! He is a grown man, and I have still not entirely forgiven you for importuning my daughter on a public street in the middle of Falmouth."

Harwood held up his hands in defeat and leaned back in his chair with his drink and a wry grin, as if observing a particularly scandalous new play at Drury Lane.

"Sir," Nathaniel began, attempting to keep his voice level. "I am sorry for any offence given. I can assure you that your daughter and I have been fully chaperoned at all times." Her father did not need to know that said chaperone had been eating lunch out of sight of them both when he had kissed his daughter. "Miss Darcy has proved an invaluable asset on the dig, and if there has been any manner of misunderstanding, then I am heartily sorry for it. You have my word that I will complete the work as soon as possible. I can even request that one of my colleagues travels here to take over supervision of the excavation if you would prefer."

Darcy looked at him darkly and said nothing for a long moment. "I do not know that will be necessary, Mr Briar. Are you telling me that you have no intentions towards my daughter?"

Nathaniel swallowed painfully. "I... it is... she is... I cannot," he said eventually, feeling that the words were wholly inadequate for what he wanted to communicate.

"Very well," said Darcy, his countenance softening slightly. He picked up his glass from the table and swallowed its contents. "I am rejoining my family."

With that, he turned on his heel. Nathaniel felt slightly dazed as the master of Pemberley swept from the room.

"Do not worry overmuch," Harwood said airily. "His bark is worse than his bite. He is a pussycat, really. Once you have seen him sitting on the floor playing horsey with a toddling baby, you will not take him so seriously."

"I think I will retire," said Nathaniel softly.

"Briar," said Harwood, more seriously.

"Yes?" Nathaniel replied, still wondering whether an early morning escape from Pemberley might be possible without anyone noticing.

"Speaking as a man who fell head over heels for a Darcy girl, I would advise you not to run from it. In my experience, the condition is terminal. And these are good people, Briar. The very best. Even if old Darcy there would happily run a man through for looking at one of his daughters the wrong way."

"It is not that," said Nathaniel miserably. "It is that I cannot."

Harwood frowned. "Is your honour engaged elsewhere?"

"No."

"Have you got some dark criminal enterprise we should be aware of? Perhaps you run a smuggling ring or a chain of brothels?"

"No, of course not!"

"Then what is the problem, man? Kate barely looks up from her books, but over the last few days I have never seen her brighter or more engaged with the world around her, and you must be a fool if you think you are not the cause. What is more, you moon after her like a lovestruck green boy."

"Well, thank you for that assessment, Harwood. And I do not moon." Nathaniel took another drink of his port. "She is all things lovely, certainly. She is the most intelligent and thoughtful woman of my acquaintance. She has a ready wit and a curiosity about the world that I have never encountered in anyone else. I could speak to her for hours and still find myself wishing for more."

Harwood's eyebrows rose.

"But," Nathaniel said sharply, coming back to himself, "my lifestyle is not conducive to a wife."

Harwood let out another irritating bark of laughter. "Do you know what I was doing when I met Bella? I was working secretly for the Customs Office in Falmouth and spending half my nights skulking around docks after smugglers. Hardly the profession one imagines for the future husband of the heiress of Pemberley." He leant back in his chair and regarded Nathaniel over the rim of his glass. "Look, I may be a mawkish old married fellow at this point, but if you love each other, you find a way to settle these things. And I dare say our Kate is one of the only women in England who would not object to being dragged around a succession of muddy holes."

Nathaniel sighed deeply. "If it were only that. Then there is my family. They are..."

"What? All confined to Bedlam? Did your father gamble away the family holdings? Is there some terrible scandal involving an actress and a bishop? Mine managed to lose almost everything we had in the world. What does any of that matter?"

Nathaniel took a large swallow of port. "I am not Nathaniel Briar."

Harwood stared at him, finally shocked into silence.

"Well, I am. Nathaniel is my name and Briar is the name I use professionally, but it is not my family name." He paused, suddenly finding the carpet extremely interesting. "I am Viscount Ashbourne."

There was a beat of absolute silence. Then Harwood laughed. Not the irritating little chuckle Nathaniel had already endured several times that evening, but a great, deep laugh that made him throw his head back.

"Oh no," he said when he finally managed to speak. "A viscount. Good God, Briar, you really are done for. What chance does a viscount have of being accepted by the very fine, very wealthy and tragically untitled Darcys of Pemberley?"

Nathaniel glared at him.