Dig Deeper
By Allison Rose
Part I
Posted on Thursday, 9 December 1999
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a brilliant career must be in want of a wife to support him. Or so it seemed, at least, to Fanny Bennet on the day she browsed through her husband's copy of Archaeology magazine and made a thrilling discovery.
"Thomas!" she shrieked through the house. "Have you read this? The Netherfield Museum is sponsoring another excavation at last! And who do you think is going to direct it? Charles Bingley! Charles Bingley, the heir to that big estate in England and the highest-paid archaeologist today to boot! What a wonderful thing for our girls!"
Dr. Bennet had not the pleasure of understanding her, as was often the case. "How can it affect them?" he asked his hysterical wife.
Mrs. Bennet sighed as though she thought her husband very dense indeed. "They can work on his dig."
"And how will that be helpful, my dear? I am sure Jane and Elizabeth can find their own work. They are very well respected."
"Thomas, you must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them!"
Dr. Bennet looked up from his newspaper with some alarm. "Marrying one of them, Fanny?"
"Of course! Neither of them has had a boyfriend in ages, and it could do no harm to have one of them married to such a brilliant young archaeologist."
"Rich young archaeologist, you mean."
Fanny pouted. "I don't see why you must always suspect me of having such mercenary motives. I'm sure I only have my daughters' well-being in mind."
"Fanny, our daughters are grown women and highly respected in their fields. If they want to work on the Netherfield excavation, I have no doubt that they will apply, nor do I doubt that they will do so for the privilege of working in Egypt with Dr. Bingley and not for the privilege of a romantic romp in the desert."
Romantic romps aside, at that very moment the phone in Jane Bennet's photography studio was ringing. Jane answered it to learn that her younger sister had received perhaps the greatest honor of her career. She had been invited to be the third member of the Netherfield excavation team at El-Amarna in Egypt. Elizabeth had further good news for her sister: the team wanted to hire Jane as the excavation photographer.
Only one week later the Bennet sisters were stepping off a plane in Cairo, preparing to be transported up the Nile (south, in other words) to the site of Amarna. With them was their next sister, Mary, a graduate student in linguistics who had managed to secure an internship with the team. Mary was terribly excited about the excavation, since it fell neatly into her field. Recently a local woman had been out in the vicinity of the abandoned city at Tell El-Amarna and had nearly fallen into a hole. She had immediately notified her husband and most of the village, and eventually it had been established that the hole contained tablets with hieroglyphic writing on them. Dr. Charles Bingley at the Netherfield Museum immediately connected these with the famous Tell El-Amarna tablets discovered in the last century and sought permission to excavate the site.
As soon as they stepped into the Cairo airport Elizabeth Bennet caught sight of a tallish, blond, good-natured looking young man who seemed strikingly familiar. She eventually recognized him as Dr. Bingley himself, from his pictures in journal articles. Dr. Bingley caught sight of the sisters at the same time and hurried to meet them.
"Dr. Bennet?" he called to no one in particular as he approached.
Elizabeth held out her hand. "Elizabeth Bennet. This is Jane, our team photographer, and our sister Mary, an intern for the season."
Dr. Bingley beamed as he shook each sister's hand in turn. "You must call me Charles," he said happily. Elizabeth hid a smile: Charles couldn't seem to take his eyes off Jane.
Back at the hotel where the team was staying until their departure for Amarna the next morning, the Bennet sisters were introduced to the rest of the team in the hotel bar. A tall, portly older gentleman was introduced as Sir William Lucas, one of the sponsors of the excavations. Elizabeth remembered his name. Though not trained himself, Sir William was an avid Egyptologist and preferred to observe the excavations first hand. She was not terribly surprised that his daughter, Charlotte Lucas, would be serving as the team's historian; Charlotte had a fine reputation in England in her own right but was also put forward by her father quite often. An attractive but rather haughty young woman was introduced as Caroline Bingley, Charles's sister. Charles explained that Caroline was not an official member of the team, but was visiting the excavations in order to examine the famous Amarna wall paintings. Caroline was apparently a clothing and costume historian. Elizabeth guessed at Caroline's real reason for attending the dig when she was introduced to the third archaeologist leading the work - Fitzwilliam Darcy. Dr. Darcy had an even larger reputation than Charles Bingley; only Bingley's friendly attitude and the fact that he was pleasanter to work with made him more popular. Dr. Darcy was tall, gorgeously handsome, and rather stiff and Caroline Bingley hung on him like a Virginia creeper. Elizabeth thought they made a rather apt couple.
Dr. Darcy held out one hand and greeted her coldly with, "Hello, Dr. Bennet. Welcome to Egypt."
Elizabeth guessed the reason for this welcome and replied as haughtily as she could manage, "Yes, of course unlike you I have not excavated here before. I am glad to have the opportunity." She thought Darcy's face reflected perfectly his opinion of giving "opportunities" to up-and-coming young archaeologists.
Later, as Elizabeth sat chatting amicably with Charlotte Lucas over a whiskey, she caught the sound of her sister's name and stopped speaking abruptly. The speaker was Dr. Darcy, and he was obviously standing not far behind her.
"Jane Bennet seems like a nice enough girl," he was saying, "I just doubt whether she has the experience."
"Darcy -" The interruption came from Charles Bingley.
"And," Darcy continued, "I highly doubt the propriety of your dating a fellow team member during excavations."
Elizabeth's eyes met Charlotte's and they both smiled a little. What a nice thing it would be indeed for Jane to have a solid relationship. Too bad our stuffy Dr. Darcy is so negative.
Charles was talking again. "Oh, for heaven's sake, Darcy. You wouldn't be saying that if you had someone of your own and knew how it felt - to work side by side with someone that you love and can share your career with. When was the last time you had a date, anyway?"
Elizabeth and Charlotte exchanged looks again and had to stifle their laughter.
"Come on, Darcy," Charles continued. "It wouldn't hurt you to get to know the rest of the team this time. You know - you should talk to Elizabeth. I bet you two would get along well."
Elizabeth's eyes widened at this mention of herself, but the mortification wasn't over yet.
"Bingley, I have no desire to attempt to get to know a woman just because she wants to learn from my methods or anything of the kind. I agreed to work with Dr. Bennet for your sake because you wanted her expertise on the wall paintings. Fine. But don't ask me to attempt a romantic relationship with a woman who is extraordinary in neither intelligence nor beauty, just because it would make you happy."
Had Dr. Darcy turned around at that moment, he would have seen the full force of Elizabeth Bennet's glare directed straight at him.
After the first week of work on the site, the team had begun to settle into the pattern that would carry them through the season. The two main areas of interest - the cave that held the tablets and a portion of the palace - were supervised daily by Charles and Elizabeth, respectively. Darcy, whose specialty was ancient culture and society, moved between the two sites as he saw fit. Each site had its team of interns, and Elizabeth was relieved to surrender her sister Mary to the more linguistically-inclined cave team. Caroline professed an interest in the paintings and clothing depictions at Elizabeth's end, but in reality fluttered after Dr. Darcy wherever he went. Jane came when she was summoned to document the findings, and if she spent a little more time at Charles's site Elizabeth smiled and didn't protest. Things were moving along quite nicely until the day the Bennet sisters received a letter from their father.
Charles handed the envelope to Jane, commenting, "I didn't know your father was Thomas Bennet. He is Thomas William Bennet, the archaeologist, right?"
Jane nodded as she slit the envelope. "Yes. He's retired now."
"We -" here Charles gestured to himself and Darcy "- we all grew up, so to speak, on his work in Greece."
Jane smiled. "I believe Elizabeth did, too. She first visited his excavations when she was only four years old, and has wanted to be an archaeologist ever since." Suddenly her countenance changed as she read her father's letter. "Oh, no."
"What?" Charles asked anxiously.
"My father writes that our distant cousin, William Collins, plans to visit the dig site. He says that we should expect him - Good Lord, tomorrow!"
Charles passed Jane a bottle of water and took a seat beside her under the small shelter they had set up at the hole. "What's the matter with your cousin?"
Jane sighed. "What isn't? He's a history professor - a bad one - at a very small college, and he thinks he's an archaeologist. And if that's not bad enough, he's been trying for years to get me or Lizzy to marry him." Jane blushed furiously at the horrified look on Charles's face. She jumped to her feet with a little sigh. "I should go warn my sister."
"What about Mary?" Charles asked.
Jane snorted. "Sometimes I think Mary actually likes the man."
Elizabeth took the news much as her sister had expected. She shrieked, and nearly fell into her own dig hole.
When William Collins himself arrived the next day, he fully satisfied the expectations of the Netherfield team. Although the morale at the site was generally good and the atmosphere friendly, before Mr. Collins arrived nothing had made the entire team burst out laughing quite so hard.
For their part, Jane and Elizabeth Bennet were terribly embarrassed of their relation. He simpered about the site, following poor Jane with the diligence of a Scotland Yard detective. When he, in his infinite wisdom, noticed that the eminent Dr. Bingley seemed to have designs on his fair cousin, Mr. Collins switched his attentions to Elizabeth and hovered about the palace until she was ready to be ill. Mary, wretched child, actually seemed to feel slighted. Elizabeth found it incomprehensible.
A matter of further confusion was the mounting animosity between herself and Dr. Darcy. She had known from the first, due to her superior eavesdropping skills, that he did not trust her work and did not care to know her professionally or otherwise. However, in recent days their conversation had turned to more personal and less work-related topics. One particularly infuriating discussion - begun, to be sure, by none other than Caroline Bingley - focused on the qualities of a "lady" in modern society.
"A true lady must be accomplished and educated, to be sure, but she must also add to this a certain air - a manner of carrying herself that says she is above her company, above crude, common manners. She must be always dignified, elegant in all situations. The tone of her voice must be gentle and refined - and her dress must always bespeak taste and class."
Elizabeth looked down wryly at her dusty khakis and was about to make an impertinent reply when Dr. Darcy put in, "And to all this she must add something else - in the willingness to pursue a career without respect to petty concerns." He looked straight at Caroline as he said this, and that lady turned away in embarrassment. Elizabeth, for her part, was stunned. Had Dr. Darcy just defended her? He must have some sly reason for doing so. She must meditate on this.
The following week brought a new diversion to the dig site, in the form of some off-duty American servicemen touring the sights while on leave in Egypt. Elizabeth looked up one day to find herself face to face with a young officer, who tipped his army hat in an exaggerated manner and said, "I'm fascinated by the paintings - can you tell me about them?"
Elizabeth found herself so captivated by his sparkling eyes that she forgot to point out that the dig site was private and began telling him all about the naturalistic painting style of the reign of Akhenaten. He introduced himself as George Wickham, an American serviceman on his first tour in the Middle East. As they were chatting, Wickham's face suddenly changed and looked a bit apprehensive. The look immediately changed again to one of - was it arrogance? Someone behind Elizabeth cleared his throat, and she turned to face Dr. Darcy.
Darcy looked Wickham up and down for a long moment, but when he spoke it was to Elizabeth. "Dr. Bennet, the site is not open to the public." Elizabeth was about to protest that they had visitors all the time, when Darcy turned on his heel and stalked off. She turned back in surprise to find Wickham shaking his head ruefully. "Darcy," he said cryptically. "Do you - have you known him long?"
Elizabeth shook her head. "Only since this dig began. I have only had a private conversation with him twice, and I have no desire to have the experience repeated."
Wickham smiled sadly. "I fear that there are few who would share that opinion, except myself."
"But I don't understand - no one on our team seems to like him - everyone here is disgusted with his pride. He insults people left and right."
"Of course he does. He's rich - he can afford to. But, Miss Bennet - is it Dr. Bennet?"
"It's Elizabeth."
"Elizabeth." He smiled charmingly, but for some reason the caressing tone in which he pronounced her name made her shiver. "I've known Fitzwilliam Darcy my entire life. Yes," he said, noting her look, "you are surprised. No doubt you find it odd that we did not greet one another."
"Yes, that strikes me as odd if you know each other."
Wickham removed his army hat altogether and sat down on the edge of the dig hole. "Darcy and I were boys together. My father was his father's personal assistant, and old Mr. Darcy loved me almost as a son. I think Fitzwilliam was quite jealous of me at times, actually. But I was always taught to think of him as a brother, and to look upon his sister, Georgiana, as my own sister.
"Unfortunately, my own father died when I was quite young. Mr. Darcy supported me after that in the memory of his faithful friend. He sent me to boarding school with Fitzwilliam and gave me a home on the holidays. He even paid my way at college, the same one as his own son."
"The Darcys must be very wealthy," Elizabeth said.
"Yes, they are, very. Twice as rich as the famous Bingleys, if you can believe it. So anyway, old Mr. Darcy always intended to give me a start in the world after school. Unfortunately, he died five years ago before he was able to act on his wishes. He was faithful to the end, though, and left me in his will a position with Darcy Enterprises. When I went to see Fitzwilliam, who was left Chairman of the Board in addition to his archaeological work, he flatly refused to honor his father's promise. He said he didn't want the son of the secretary to become a high-ranking executive."
Elizabeth's hand flew to her mouth in horror. "How could he?"
Wickham shrugged. "There was little I could do about it. The Darcys are rich and can afford better lawyers. I bounced around for a while, and finally went into the army as a means of seeing the world and doing something useful with my life."
"What about his sister?" Elizabeth asked. "Did she have no mercy either?"
"Georgiana? She was only eleven when her father died. She liked me well enough when we were children, but when I last saw her she had become much like her brother, very . . . proud. I was sorry to see it happen. She had potential."
The conversation so played upon Elizabeth's already existing acrimonious feelings for Dr. Darcy that all her sympathies were immediately aligned with Mr. Wickham. It didn't even strike her as odd that this man she had only just met had told her his entire life story.
The next morning Elizabeth was unfortunate enough to be cornered by the slimy Mr. Collins in the corner of the main tent. Before she knew what was happening, he had her backed up against the canvas and was loudly declaring his love and admiration. She was, he owned, a bit too outspoken for a professor's wife - but surely all that would change when they were married and she no longer had the pressure of her own career.
Elizabeth put up with him for as long as she could before bursting out with "I am grateful for your proposals, but I cannot accept them. My feelings forbid it in every way. I could not make you happy, and you are the last man on earth who could make me so."
As she fled the tent, Elizabeth could still hear him calling after her, "I know you are just playing hard to get, my darling!"
She was still feeling vaguely nauseous when she came upon Jane sobbing in their tent. "Jane, darling, what's the matter?" she asked worriedly.
"Oh, Lizzy," Jane wept. "He doesn't love me."
"What?" Elizabeth sat down next to her sister and put a comforting arm around her shoulders. "You cannot be talking about Charles, because any fool could see that he loves you."
"He doesn't!" Jane wailed. "Something is wrong. I think he must have realized that I have feelings for him and decided to avoid encouraging me. He hasn't spoken to me in two days. When we run into each other he only nods and leaves, or walks off in the opposite direction. Lizzy, it's perfectly obvious. He doesn't love me, and doesn't want to hurt my feelings either by telling me so or by leading me on!"
"But Jane," Elizabeth asked gently, "do you love him so much?"
Jane attempted to brush away her tears and meet her younger sister's gaze. "I do, Lizzy. I have tried to deny it, but . . ." She lifted her hands helplessly.
"Poor Janie," Elizabeth sighed sympathetically. "But I'm sure nothing is wrong. I can see that Charles cares for you. Probably he's worried about something and it's affecting his behavior. Give him some time."
Jane nodded. "I will try." The look on her face changed, and a bit of her usual playfulness with her sister returned. "I saw you talking with that Mr. Wickham again this afternoon, Lizzy. He seems to like you very much."
"Good Lord!" Elizabeth cried. "Maybe he'll propose and rid me of William Collins!"
"Has he approached you?" Jane asked in astonishment.
"Mr. William Collins has done me the very great favor of asking me to be his wife," Elizabeth responded with sarcasm oozing from every pore.
Dr. Darcy, passing by the tent a moment later, heard the sound of hysterical laughter and thought one of the Bennet sisters must have lost her mind.
One week later the chief excavators decided that a party was necessary to boost the morale of the entire team. It was Charles Bingley's idea and was energetically seconded by Elizabeth, who thought a purely social gathering would be just the thing to repair the relationship between Charles and her sister. Darcy was less than enthusiastic, but finally agreed to anything that would "keep the peons happy," as Elizabeth later put it to Jane.
Elizabeth extended an invitation to George Wickham, who was still lingering about, but on the evening of the event he did not arrive. A few of his fellow soldiers did, however, and one of them whispered confidentially to Elizabeth that Wickham had not come because he did not wish to encounter Dr. Darcy. The arrangement of the dig had so far allowed Wickham to visit Elizabeth without meeting his old enemy.
The party began with an enormous shock and progressed much in the same vein. It opened with a gleeful Mr. Collins, looking triumphantly at Elizabeth, announcing his engagement - to the staff historian, Charlotte Lucas. Elizabeth nearly dropped a wine glass in shock. Charlotte? Her friend Charlotte, whom she had come to love and respect almost as a sister - Charlotte accepting Mr. Collins? Indeed it was true. If Charlotte was not the picture of a woman in love, she was clearly satisfied with her prospects as a professor's wife and happy to relinquish her place in the House of Lucas.
The next shock was even less agreeable - it was that Charles's behavior toward Jane did not improve even at the party. He spoke to her only when necessary, and when someone suggested dancing and brought out a portable CD player, Charles immediately led one of the interns to the floor. Jane looked her pain, but quickly hid it in talking to Mary about some of the tablets they had uncovered that morning.
And the next surprise was for Elizabeth. As she stood talking to Charlotte about the very strange story of Dr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham, she looked up to see Darcy himself standing over her. He asked her to dance; she was too surprised to come up with an excuse. She stood shakily and allowed him to lead her to the floor, all the while wondering what humiliation this odious man could have in mind.
She was not prepared for the spark when his hand touched hers. It caught her off guard and she could not account for it. Nor could she account for the odd lightheadedness that affected her as he drew her near. His hand held her waist lightly; she could feel his contact burning through the khaki. His smell - clean yet natural - was oddly hypnotizing. After a few moments, he eased into the music and drew her closer. She was sorely tempted by proximity and exhaustion to lay her head on his shoulder. He seemed to understand this, as well as her reluctance to give in, for he reached up to cup the back of her head with one hand and drew her down to rest against him. His hand lingered for just a moment in her dark curls before dropping back to her waist.
It was desperate. Elizabeth felt that she must do something or die. She tried to start a conversation. It didn't get very far. Maddened, she began to resent the fact that this horrible, stuck-up man should have such an effect on her. In her anger, she brought up her frequent visits from George Wickham.
She could have sworn that Darcy backed away from her slightly. "George Wickham has always been good at making friends," he said stiffly. "I don't know that he is equally good at keeping them."
Elizabeth stiffened herself in response. "He has lost your friendship in a way that he is likely to suffer from all his life."
The music ended and Darcy and Elizabeth parted, neither very regretfully. "I wish," Darcy said, "that you would not attempt to sketch my character. I don't think your conclusions would reflect very well on either of us right now."
The next day brought several surprises. Charles summoned Darcy and Elizabeth to the main tent for a directors' meeting. Apparently Charlotte and William planned to leave the excavation immediately - Charlotte had given her notice and they were to be married in New York in one week. Charles had called his brother-in-law Dr. George Hurst, a historian from a prestigious British university, to replace her. Dr. Hurst and his wife, Charles's sister, would be arriving in two days and the excavation could resume at that time. Elizabeth was sorry to see Charlotte go - she had been hoping that given time her friend would change her mind about marrying William Collins. Darcy expressed concern that Dr. Hurst had not been in the field for some years, but Charles insisted that this was the best thing. Elizabeth got the idea that Charles often consulted Dr. Darcy before making important decisions.
The next surprise was another letter for the Bennet sisters, this time from their mother. She wrote to scold Elizabeth for letting Mr. Collins slip through her fingers, and to tell the sisters that the rest of the family would be arriving in Egypt that week for an extended visit. Dr. Bennet senior missed the field (even though his own work had been in Greece), Catherine and Lydia were eager for a vacation in a warm climate, and Mrs. Bennet was eager to examine the team for prospective sons-in-law. Elizabeth and Jane took this news about as well as the news of Mr. Collins's visit. Mary, as usual, was rather indifferent.
On the afternoon she read her mother's letter, Elizabeth was in poor spirits and decided to go over a paper she was writing on the Amarna period painting styles. Her desk in the tent was covered with papers and with journal copies of her most recently published paper on the representation of servants in the Amarna period. She lost herself in her work and didn't notice her visitor until he cleared his throat and said, "Excuse me."
Elizabeth spun around, hoping and expecting to see Wickham, and was rather surprised to see Dr. Darcy behind her instead. "Hello," she said wonderingly.
"I've come to consult with you," he said without prelude.
The proud Dr. Darcy wanted her advice on something? Maybe he wanted to know what to get his sister for her birthday. "Yes, Dr. Darcy?"
He leaned over the table. "I haven't seen that one."
She passed him the published article, inwardly wincing at the forthcoming comments. He read off the title, "'Servants in the Amarna wall paintings,' by E.A. Bennet and J.D. Bennet." He looked up. "Jane?"
Elizabeth nodded. "She took the photographs, actually, but she did some editing for me so they gave her a byline."
His next question was odd. "Elizabeth Anne?"
Why did he want to know? She shook her head. "Athena." She laughed at his expression. "My father was a Greek archaeologist, after all."
"So Jane would be . . . Demeter?"
"Diana. She was born during Dad's brief Roman period."
"Interesting. Mary too?"
Elizabeth nodded ruefully. "Mary came along during a foray into literary records. Her middle name is Electra." At Darcy's grimace, she laughed and said, "It gets worse. My sister Kitty's middle name is Aphrodite, and my youngest sister is Lydia Medea."
Darcy's eyebrow arched noticeably. "I'm beginning to appreciate 'Fitzwilliam' more and more, although I always thought my middle name was a bit weak."
"What is it?"
He hesitated, as if having second thoughts about revealing himself to her in even such a small way, but then replied, "Arthur."
Elizabeth looked indignant. "That's not weak. Arthur was one of the greatest legendary heroes of all time."
He laughed. "Do I strike you as a character in a romance, my lady?"
She grinned in response. "I don't know, you're a bit lacking in the chivalry department."
The look he sent her would have killed a cat, and she immediately regretted her teasing. "What did you want to talk to me about?" she asked diplomatically. He began talking about painting styles with papyrus and their earlier conversation was all but forgotten.
The arrival of the Hursts did not improve the spirits of the team. Dr. Hurst was, to put it politely, a drunk and his wife was every inch Caroline's sister. Elizabeth did not much feel that she wanted to make their better acquaintance. She did not feel this particularly after overhearing Louisa Hurst say to Dr. Darcy, "I'd heard that Dr. Elizabeth Bennet was rather lovely, but now I find the report much exaggerated."
Further interruptions were to come, and interruptions even less pleasant. Dr. Darcy's aunt, the eminent Lady Catherine de Bourgh of nowhere in particular, England arrived three days after the Hursts with her daughter, Anne. Lady Catherine was not an unattractive woman, although somewhat faded; she had an enormous amount of money and no occupation. This led her, through the interest of her nephew, to invest largely in British archaeological work. Elizabeth gathered that she fancied herself the next Amelia Edwards. Anne, at eighteen, was a bland figure next to her mother. She was pale and thin and looked rather cross and hardly spoke two words in company. Elizabeth was highly amused by Lady Catherine's suggestion that Anne was destined to be the wife of her cousin Dr. Darcy.
Part II
Posted on Thursday, 9 December 1999
"Lady Catherine hopes for an alliance with Darcy's family fortune," Charles said when Elizabeth mentioned it to him. "She is wealthy, but marrying Anne to her cousin will keep all the money in the family - and ensure that the de Bourgh line will be unsullied by contact with undesirables."
"Would Anne dare to marry an 'undesirable' with such a mother to contend with?" Elizabeth asked with a sparkle in her eye.
"Probably not," Charles conceded. "But Lady C. is one of those people who at one and the same time expect that everyone will do her bidding, and that she will have to fight at every turn."
"Anne and Dr. Darcy's betrothal will be a great disappointment to some," Elizabeth ventured.
Charles smiled ruefully. "My sister, you mean. I will not deny that Caroline seems to have set her hopes on Darcy, but - much as I love my sister, I fear that she is attracted more to the fortune and the reputation than the man."
"I heard her say something the other day about eventually having his sister for her sister."
Charles winced briefly. "I confess that she was not referring to her own match with Dr. Darcy in that case. She was alluding to her own personal wish that I be married to his sister, Georgiana."
Elizabeth was distressed by anything that might come between Charles and Jane, and wondered for a moment if Georgiana Darcy might be the reason for his sudden coldness. "Do you like Georgiana?"
Charles smiled. "I adore Georgiana. But she's only sixteen. There's no chance."
"Why does Caroline want you to marry her then?"
"She thinks she'll have a better chance with Fitzwilliam if I'm dating his sister. Never mind that Fitzwilliam would never let his sister date a thirty-year-old man."
Elizabeth smiled, relieved. "No, I guess not. But Anne de Bourgh is only eighteen herself, isn't she?"
"Lady Catherine wants Darcy to marry her daughter. In the face of fortune and power, a fourteen-year age difference means nothing to her. I didn't say Darcy wanted to marry Anne, though."
With Lady Catherine one day came a more pleasant visitor. The young man was an Army officer, a colonel in fact, and very attractive even out of uniform. He was introduced as Lady Catherine's other nephew, Darcy's cousin Richard Fitzwilliam. Richard was on extended leave after a particularly long tour of duty, and was traveling with his Aunt Catherine, not because he enjoyed her company (far from it) but because he wanted to see his cousin's excavations.
"I'm very pleased to meet you, Dr. Bennet," he said congenially. "I've heard so much about you from my cousin William."
"I can only imagine what he's been telling you," Elizabeth said, blushing furiously. "Dr. Darcy is my severest critic."
Colonel Fitzwilliam raised an eyebrow. "Really? I've heard nothing but praise from him for you."
"I can't imagine why," Elizabeth said. "No doubt for some malicious reason."
Darcy himself chose that moment to arrive on the scene. "Dr. Bennet," he said stiffly, "you're needed at the palace." He turned on his heel and stalked off.
"You see?" Elizabeth said softly to the Colonel. "We are not good friends."
"I'm surprised," he replied.
"Are you? I get the impression that your cousin isn't overly quick to approve of anyone." Without really intending to, Elizabeth and Richard had strolled away from Lady Catherine and her daughter and were walking toward the palace.
"He isn't," Richard said. "That's why it struck me that he liked you so much."
Elizabeth smiled up at him. "You flatter me, but I really don't think he likes me much at all."
"His behavior to you does puzzle me," Richard confessed. "Usually William is very good to his friends - people he likes."
"Yes, he seems to be very good to Charles Bingley."
"What do you mean?" Richard asked.
Elizabeth laughed. "He seems to - take care of him quite a bit."
Richard smiled in response. "I believe he does. In fact," he lowered his voice, "I think he prides himself on having 'saved' Charles from a bad relationship."
"Really?" Elizabeth asked with a queer sinking feeling that she couldn't yet understand. "What happened?"
"Charles was apparently entangled with a young woman on one of his projects. Darcy believed she was after Charles's influence, possibly his money too. He convinced Charles that the lady in question didn't really love him. Charles is so modest, I can see where it would be easy to convince him. He apparently dropped the girl in humiliation."
Elizabeth had felt the blood drain from her face throughout the course of his speech. "How . . ." she stammered, "how was Dr. Darcy supposed to know what would make his friend happy?"
Richard looked slightly concerned. "You disagree with his interference?"
Elizabeth could not answer. She felt ill.
The very next afternoon, as Elizabeth was reading over her paper materials in her tent, she looked up to see that Dr. Darcy had joined her again. "Am I intruding, Dr. Bennet?" he asked.
Of course. "No, not at all."
He sat down carefully beside her desk. "How goes the paper?"
Elizabeth sighed and leaned back in the chair. "All right, I suppose. I'm having a hard time citing the . . ." She trailed off as she realized he wasn't really listening to her. "Dr. Darcy, is everything all right?" It occurred to her as she spoke the words how strange it was that after all this time on the dig they were both familiar with the rest of the team but still addressed each other so formally.
Darcy stood and paced around the tent for a few seconds. "Dr. - Elizabeth - would you come here a minute, please?"
Confused, Elizabeth stood and crossed to his side of the tent. As she reached his side, without any warning he reached out and took her by the arms. Her eyes widened and she gasped as he leaned in close. "I can't take it anymore," he whispered intently. "I can't deny how much I love you." Ignoring - or perhaps not noticing - the stunned look in her eyes, he continued, "I understand that this is ridiculous. You're - you're lesser known in the field, you have no real connections, everyone knows that your father gave up a prestigious career to marry your mother, we don't move in the same circles - but I can't deny my feelings any longer. I realize that I am risking censure and prosecution for sexual harassment, but I have to speak. Please have mercy on me, Elizabeth."
Elizabeth wrested her arms out of his grip. "I think one might expect a lesser known archaeologist such as myself to feel grateful for your affections - but I can't. Much as I would relish the idea of being caught having a romantic rendezvous in the dig tent, I must refuse. Even if you had approached me with anything resembling politeness or any effort to be nice, how could I ever involve myself with the man who had destroyed my sister's happiness?" The blanched look on Darcy's face revealed his guilt. "Oh yes, I heard about your little interference. What made you think you could know what Jane was thinking or feeling or - and another thing." Her eyes flashed as she advanced on him. "How could I possibly want to go out with you after knowing what you did to poor Mr. Wickham?"
Darcy looked up angrily. "Oh, yes, I have certainly mistreated Mr. Wickham!"
"You have!" Her chest heaved with her anger and her cheeks flushed with righteous excitement. Darcy thought irrationally that she had never looked more beautiful.
"I understand you perfectly," he said. "I'll leave you." He exited the tent as quickly as he possibly could. Elizabeth watched him go with the uncontrollable urge to burst into tears.
Several hours later, as she was getting ready for bed in the tent she shared with Jane, Elizabeth was visited by Richard Fitzwilliam. "Richard!" she said, somewhat flustered at having been caught in only shorts and a fairly transparent shirt.
"Elizabeth," he said, equally flustered. "I didn't expect you to be going to bed this early."
"Can I do something for you?" she asked, trying to smooth her hair.
"I have a message for you, from my cousin William," Richard said, coming further into the tent. He held out a folded piece of white paper, which Elizabeth took with some trepidation. Richard smiled, wished her goodnight, and left her alone.
Elizabeth unfolded the letter slowly, unsure of what it might contain. The first line set her mind somewhat at ease.
Dear Elizabeth,
Do not be alarmed; I am not renewing my request to you. I understand that there is to be no relationship between us other than the professional. But I felt compelled to defend myself against your accusations, and to clear my name.
You implied that I separated Charles from your sister Jane. I did. I cannot deny it.
"Arrogant . . ." Elizabeth cried.
I noticed that Charles was falling for your sister, but from her behavior it did not seem to me that she felt the same way about him. Charles has often been pursued by women who wanted him only for his wealth or to further their own careers, and I did not want to see him hurt by Jane.
"As if Jane could hurt anyone." Elizabeth was tempted not to finish the letter, but her curiosity got the better of her.
As for the matter of George Wickham - for me to explain this will require that I tell you the whole recent history of my family. I trust that you will keep this to yourself.
George Wickham was the son of my father's personal assistant. My father was so fond of Matthew Wickham that he adored his son blindly. George was always a wild child, but my father never saw it. When Mr. Wickham died, my father supported George, sent him to school with me, and to college. By the time we were in college, George had become a ladies' man. I entered his room on several occasions to find him in the company of scantily dressed girls, sometimes more than one. He drank often, and had some troubling with gambling debts.
When my father died five years ago, George approached me with the will. I was apprehensive because I didn't want to give such a man a place in my father's company. Fortunately for me, George did not want to work for Darcy Enterprises. He asked instead for the sum of six hundred thousand dollars, which I gladly gave him if it meant that we would not see him again. I thought our dealings were over, but I was very wrong.
My sister, Georgiana, is sixteen years younger than myself. Our mother died many years ago, and I have been Georgiana's guardian since the death of our father. I have always been too busy with my excavating to be a proper guardian, so like myself Georgiana was sent to boarding school. George Wickham followed her there last year and began seeing her on the weekends. He claimed to be a friend of the family. Knowing nothing of his true character, Georgiana backed him up and he was allowed to take her off-campus. After several months, he had managed to convince my innocent, impressionable sister that she was in love with him, and to get her to agree to run away with him to the mountains for her spring break. Fortunately, I visited my sister unexpectedly the day before the trip was to take place. Her guilty conscience led her to confess everything. Wickham's plan had been, of course, to hurt me in the surest way possible - by seducing my fifteen-year-old sister. Had he managed to do this, Georgiana - and the reputation of our family - would have been destroyed. I dealt with him at the time, and he was banished from our house. I was shaken by the event and brought Georgiana home. She now attends a day school and lives with her aunt and uncle (Richard Fitzwilliam's parents) when I am away. I did not see George Wickham again until he turned up here at the dig. He cannot have known that I would be here, and then when he realized that I was he avoided me as much as possible.
This is all I can tell you in my defense. Where my sister is concerned I have acted swiftly, but I think not without just cause. Please consider my side of the events, and accept my wishes for your health and continued success.
Sincerely,
Fitzwilliam Darcy
Elizabeth could not think clearly for a very long time. She knew only that she had spoken in anger and hurt pride, and had attacked a good man for defending his family. But try as she might, she couldn't reconcile the loving older brother with the man who had hurt Jane.
If Elizabeth felt any embarrassment on seeing Dr. Darcy the next day, she managed to keep it fairly well hidden. For his part, he stayed away from her as much as possible and spent most of the day in the cave with Charles. Elizabeth debated as she worked on the palace what might be the best way to bring Charles and her sister back together.
Lady Catherine, Anne, and Richard had left, but had been replaced by the rest of the Bennet family. Fanny Bennet immediately took to a rather embarrassing investigation of Charles Bingley, while Thomas wandered around the site asking questions of everyone he could find. Nineteen-year-old Kitty and sixteen-year-old Lydia attached themselves to the male graduate students immediately upon their arrival. In all, the family was humiliating but stayed out of Elizabeth's way, for which she was grateful. Every time she observed her mother's behavior, she remembered Dr. Darcy's words: "your father gave up a prestigious career to marry your mother." Elizabeth knew it to be true. From the time of his marriage, to the daughter of a fellow archaeologist, Dr. Thomas Bennet's excavation had been restricted to a few months every couple years or so. His last real dig had been the one near Athens which had been four-year-old Elizabeth's introduction to archaeology. Jane had been six then, and Mary not yet born. In fact, it was Mary Electra's rather dramatic arrival in a Greek hospital which made Mrs. Bennet put her foot down. No more excavation in foreign countries. Dr. Bennet had retired to teaching, and had eventually faded into obscurity. His marriage was for Elizabeth a painful illustration of the evils of marrying without intellectual equality.
The Bennets stayed, thankfully, not at the site but at the nearest hotel they could find. They arrived every morning at the dig and stayed until the late afternoon. One evening, they invited the entire team to a party at their hotel, to which many of the off-duty army officers were also invited. Darcy turned down the invitation, whether because of her family or because of Wickham Elizabeth was never sure, and Caroline Bingley predictably chose to stay with him. The rest of the team set off for the hotel after cleaning up from work.
Almost as soon as she entered the hotel ballroom, Elizabeth was met by George Wickham himself. Her blood boiled at the thought of his deception, but she remembered Dr. Darcy's request to keep quiet and acted as politely as she could manage. She found the party dull, however, and eventually left to return to her tent and bed. She left her two youngest sisters in the company of several of the soldiers, and her mother accosting Louisa Hurst.
As she crossed the dark, deserted site, Elizabeth heard a male voice weakly calling, "Help?"
"Hello?" she called in response. "Is someone there?"
"Dr. Bennet?" the voice replied. "Is that you?"
Elizabeth recognized with some shock the owner of the voice. "Dr. Darcy? Where are you?"
"Down here. Square seven."
Elizabeth picked her way around Charles's neatly gridded dig and sure enough, there was Dr. Darcy sitting calmly at the bottom of one of the deepest holes. "What are you doing down there?" she asked.
Darcy sighed. "I was being an idiot. I wasn't looking where I was going, and I ran right past the signs and fell into my own hole."
Elizabeth hid a smile at his helpless tone. "What were you running from?" she asked.
Darcy looked down, embarrassed. "Caroline."
Elizabeth howled with laughter. Darcy took it all in stride, as if he could only have expected such a response. "Could you help me out please?" he asked. "I would have tried to climb, but I landed on my ankle, and I think it's sprained."
Elizabeth immediately stopped laughing. "I'm sorry. Here, let me try to . . ." She knelt down and leaned into the hole, stretching to reach his level.
"Careful!" Darcy shouted as she leaned a little too far. She caught herself and resettled to try again. Their hands met, and Elizabeth could have sworn she felt a little shock. He grasped her arms tightly, and she used her leverage together with his uninjured foot to pull him up two feet, until he could reach the top of the hole. She bent down and grabbed his waist to help haul him the rest of the way up.
"Thanks," he said when he was sitting beside the hole. "I was stupid, I'm sorry." A look flashed between them, and Elizabeth wondered suddenly whether he was talking about more than the hole.
"Let me look at that," she said.
"No need," he said quickly. "I'm pretty sure it's a sprain. It just needs to be iced."
Elizabeth climbed to her feet and helped him straighten up as well. "Then let me escort you to your tent." He smiled in response and they crossed the site together, not speaking another word except "goodnight" at his tent. Elizabeth was meditating on the change in his tone with her. Darcy was relishing the picture of Elizabeth, her sleeves rolled up and her dark curls windblown and wild, reaching down from above to rescue him. As he iced his ankle and tried to sleep, he imagined he could still feel her slim arms wrapped around his waist.
After a week of torture, the Bennets' vacation was ended and they returned home to the United States. Things settled down after that - the excavation fell back into its regular pattern. One thing was different - Charles Bingley had begun to spend time with Jane again. Elizabeth watched this new development with joy and some wonder, knowing that Dr. Darcy must have been involved. One other thing changed, also for the better - the army troops went back into service and Wickham was gone. No longer would his presence be a constant reminder to Elizabeth of her naďve mistake. Dr. Darcy remained quiet and aloof. Elizabeth noticed that he seemed to be avoiding her, but at the same time was making an effort to be helpful whenever they worked together. She decided that he was trying to defend himself against her accusation that he was not polite.
Calm at the site could not last forever, though. One week brought the arrival of a most welcome guest: Georgiana Darcy herself, on vacation from school. She came in the company of an older couple, the parents of a friend, and was excited to see her brother's work firsthand.
Elizabeth met her on the very afternoon of her unexpected arrival. She looked up from her examination of a column to see Dr. Darcy standing before her with a small blond teenaged girl. "Dr. Bennet," he said formally, "I would like you to meet my sister, Georgiana. Georgiana, this is one of my partners, Elizabeth Bennet."
Elizabeth took Georgiana's hand with a strong sense of sympathy - so this tiny thing was the girl with whom Wickham had tried to meddle. The thought made her ill, and she had an immediate urge to shield Georgiana Darcy from such threats. For her part, Georgiana seemed not proud at all but only very shy and not used to talking about herself. Elizabeth found that she liked her very much.
That evening, the team sat gathered around a flickering campfire while one of the interns played the guitar. Elizabeth leaned over to Jane and whispered, "Just like summer camp." Jane grinned in response - since the renewal of her relationship with Charles she had been in much better spirits.
Andrew the intern finished his song, and Georgiana Darcy called out, "Dr. Bennet! I hear that you play the guitar as well."
Elizabeth flushed deeply, glad that no one could tell in the unsteady light. "I do."
"Would you play for us?"
The rest of the team backed up Georgiana's request until Elizabeth found herself unable to refuse gracefully. She accepted Andrew's instrument and, after a moment's thought, began to play a sweet melody that most of the people gathered recognized as a popular folk tune. Everyone joined in but the Hursts, who felt themselves above such adolescent entertainment, Caroline, who was watching Dr. Darcy, and Dr. Darcy, who was watching Elizabeth with a look of sheer adoration. When the song was ended, Elizabeth held the guitar toward Georgiana. "You are not the only one to receive information from your brother," she said. "You must play for us too."
Georgiana's light blue eyes widened in shock. "I'll play," she said softly, "but don't make me sing."
"You don't have to," Elizabeth promised. Georgiana nodded and began to play a gentle, wordless piece that brought a hush over the gathered assembly. The Egyptian night air swept over them, and the light from the fire danced on Georgiana's delicate features.
The moment was broken by Caroline Bingley rudely whispering to Elizabeth in the middle of Georgiana's piece, "Dr. Bennet, I'm sure your sisters will mourn the loss of the male company they found here."
Elizabeth blushed, but said only, "I think they'll survive."
"Hmm." Caroline was not content to let the matter rest until she had made Elizabeth look bad in Dr. Darcy's eyes. "I noticed they found the company of Mr. Wickham particularly attractive."
Caroline would never know how much her little barb had injured her own case. Georgiana abruptly stopped playing in shock at hearing the dread name. Darcy started, but before he could do anything Elizabeth stepped in.
"I'm sorry," she said. "You can't see the frets with the fire this low. Sean, throw another log on." That being accomplished, Elizabeth asked, "Is that better, Georgiana?" Georgiana nodded gratefully and resumed her playing. Elizabeth glanced across the circle and caught Dr. Darcy's eye. The look she found there nearly made her gasp aloud - she had never seen such a look of intense love in her entire life.
The morning after Georgiana's departure, Darcy awoke with every intention of speaking to Elizabeth and thanking her for looking after his sister. He arrived at the palace early in hopes that she had begun work already and would be alone, unaccompanied by interns. When he reached the site Elizabeth was indeed alone, but not quite looking as he had expected. She was working, but was sobbing uncontrollably while she wielded her tools.
"Elizabeth!" he called, running to her side. "What's the matter? What happened?"
Elizabeth seemed either determined to ignore him or so upset that she didn't notice him. She continued to hack rather unprofessionally and dangerously at the hole, while shaking with her sobs. Darcy came up behind her and embraced her around the middle, effectively pinning her arms against her body. He wrested the digging tools from her grip and tossed them to the ground, then turned her around to face him. "Elizabeth, what is it?" he asked worriedly. "Tell me."
She only shook her head and struggled in his arms. After a long moment, she said, "Please, just let me go."
"I won't," he said firmly. "Not until you tell me what's wrong. I'm not just going to leave you like this."
She sighed, regaining some control. "My father called. My sister, Lydia . . ."
"What's happened?"
"She ran away from home."
Darcy breathed in deeply. This was a problem with which he could well sympathize. "Are you sure?" he asked. "Has she ever done this before?"
"She threatens . . ." Elizabeth said weakly. "But it's worse this time."
He reached up and stroked her hair, trying to be encouraging.
"She left a note. She didn't say where she was going, only that she would be back when she was married. My father thinks they went to Vegas."
"They?"
Elizabeth nodded and her eyes filled with fresh tears. "George Wickham."
Darcy gasped, and unintentionally tightened his hold on Elizabeth's shoulders. She noticed, but was almost grateful for the support. "They left last night," she continued shakily. "Lydia wrote that she was tired of being treated like a child, and that maybe we would all appreciate her when she was a married woman." She looked up at Darcy, biting her lip to hold the sobs back. "She's only sixteen!" She could no longer contain herself and fell onto his chest, her slender body racked with her crying.
Darcy threw both arms tightly around her and held on as if to a lifeline. Her arms slipped under his jacket to grasp his waist, and she pulled him as near to her as she possibly could. "Oh, Elizabeth," he murmured as he stroked her back. "I'm so sorry."
After a long time, Elizabeth pulled back to look at him. "My father and my uncle are flying to Nevada tomorrow hoping to find her there. They've notified the police - Uncle Edward thinks we should call the FBI if he has taken her out of the state. They're doing everything they can, but . . . how can you save a girl from something like that once it's already happened?"
Darcy's eyes clouded over and his face hardened. "I don't know," he said stiffly. "I am very sorry for your family. But I think you would like to be alone for a while. Excuse me." He released her gently but not with any particular warmth and strode off toward the main tent. Elizabeth let her head fall into her hands. Surely Dr. Darcy must be thinking how fortunate he was not to have gotten involved with her. It wouldn't do for him to be connected with a family whose daughter had run off and disgraced herself with his worst enemy.
Elizabeth was deeply frustrated by her inability to return home to her family, but her work had always come first and so she awaited news of Lydia from the dig site in Egypt. Slowly but surely, news trickled in. Someone had spoken to Wickham's CO and discovered that Wickham had gone AWOL one week prior and was wanted by the army. Thomas Bennet expressed his deepest fear to his eldest daughters, that Wickham might actually take Lydia out of the country to escape the army's jurisdiction. To make matters worse, two days after the news came Dr. Darcy left the excavations. He said the Charles and Elizabeth should be able to run things quite capably for a while without his help, and that he had urgent business back home. Elizabeth cried herself to sleep the night he left, imagining that he must have left the site to get away from her. Even though he had said otherwise, she suspected that he would never return to Amarna. If he was sensible, he would stay at home and look after Georgiana.
In his absence, Elizabeth threw herself into her work. She began to work even earlier in the mornings and often to stay up late at night editing her paper. Insomnia had set in with a vengeance, and she couldn't stand to be awake and unoccupied. One week after Darcy's departure, the e-mail came from her father that answered many of their fears. Wickham and Lydia had been found. They had not gone to Las Vegas, but to Canada, and there they were still. Lydia, obstinate girl that she was, refused to leave her darling George. Nothing that was said of his past behavior could shake her. Not even the idea of not finishing high school disturbed her; as a married woman she would never need to work and therefore had no use for an education. Education, Lydia declared stoutly, was for women like Jane and Elizabeth and Mary who couldn't or didn't want to find husbands. Elizabeth wept bitterly for her sister. She wept for a life over at sixteen, for the child whose only goal in life was to marry young, and who had run off with a reprobate and intended to stick with him. She pictured Lydia in three years, maybe married to Wickham and the mother of children close together in age. Or worse, not married to him and living as an outcast because no one else would have her after her notorious affair with an older man.
Jane came upon her in one of her worst moments, and Elizabeth confessed all her fears for Lydia.
"But I'm sure George would not treat her badly," Jane tried. "He must have fallen very much in love with her when they were in Egypt."
"You believe that, Jane," Elizabeth said bitterly, "if it makes you feel better. But how could George Wickham be in love with a sixteen-year-old fool? No, he has once again attempted the destruction of a reputable family, and this time he has succeeded." At Jane's look of confusion, Elizabeth related all the facts she had kept even from her most beloved sister until now: the near-tragic story of Wickham and Georgiana Darcy. "I don't know why he chose Lydia," Elizabeth concluded tearfully, "or what she could possibly have that he would want - unless she was just an easy conquest."
"I suppose," Jane said quietly. "But Elizabeth - you look like more is bothering you than Lydia's reputation."
Part III
Posted on Thursday, 9 December 1999
"Have you not realized," Elizabeth said angrily, "that Lydia has hurt our reputations as much as her own? We are trying to build careers in a field in which our father's family will always be news. How far do you think we'll get as the sisters of the girl who ran off to shack up with Dr. Fitzwilliam Darcy's biggest enemy - as the sisters who hosted her at our site so she could meet the snake?" Elizabeth's bright eyes shone with unshed tears. "We have become infamous in the archaeological world, and we will have to fight twice as hard for any kind of professional recognition now."
"Dr. Darcy," Jane repeated. "Did he say something to you before he left?"
"No," Elizabeth said. "He was very kind and tried to comfort me - he came upon me right after I had talked to Dad and I was crying. He didn't say anything except that he was sorry, but he couldn't wait to be out of my sight. He left almost immediately, and left the site not long after that. Jane, it's plain as plain can be that he doesn't want to have anything to do with me."
"Lizzy," Jane said seriously, "do you want anything to do with him?" Elizabeth raised a surprised face to her sister and Jane continued. "You told me about your rejection of him before, but have your feelings changed since you learned the truth about George Wickham and Georgiana? You seem to care very much what he thinks of you."
Elizabeth shook her head in denial. "I care what he thinks as a colleague, Jane, and maybe even as a friend in some way, but no more. I am only upset at the idea that he would be thinking badly of me."
Elizabeth may have convinced her sister on this point, but she was not quite so convinced herself. That night as she lay in bed she wondered exactly when she had started to think better of Dr. Darcy. In her worst moments since his departure she had dreamed of his arms around her, as they had been when he heard her news. She had dwelt over and over on his strong grip and his support, and the look in his eyes when she helped Georgiana . . . gradually it began to dawn on Elizabeth that her feelings toward Fitzwilliam Darcy had changed very much indeed. In fact, she began to suspect that she was in love for the first and last time in her life. "And he is gone," she whispered to the night.
Three days later Elizabeth, Jane, and Mary received a long message from their father saying that the whole business was concluded. Lydia had been brought home by force and was now confined to her room. Her two weeks with George Wickham had changed her, and not for the better. Their father wrote bitterly of her foolish arrogance at having "done what none of her sisters had." She had some foolish idea that she was pregnant, and that the courts must be lenient with Wickham when they realized that he would marry her and stand by his child. Thomas Bennet wrote that he sincerely hoped the pregnancy idea was just more of Lydia's foolishness and that it was much too early for her to have any suspicions of the kind. In the meantime, George Wickham had come back into the country and turned himself in to the authorities. He had been charged with statutory rape and kidnapping, and would also face desertion charges from the army. Dr. Bennet wrote that the family were hoping Lydia's reputation could be salvaged by a conviction, as it would make it seem less her own doing.
"I don't believe it," Elizabeth said to Jane in their tent that night. "Why would Wickham do something like that? Turn himself in?"
"He must really want to stay with Lydia," Jane ventured.
"I can't believe that," Elizabeth replied. "Something must have happened."
Indeed, something must have happened, for the charges against Wickham were soon reduced and he was released on bail. He did, however, serve a month in an army prison before being sent back to his base. That month was enough to reveal the sorry truth that Lydia Bennet was indeed bearing his child. Thomas wrote to his daughters still in Egypt that Wickham had agreed to marry Lydia and have her with him on the base. Dr. Bennet would have preferred to keep his teenaged daughter at home and help her and the child there, but this was what Lydia wanted and in the end he was glad to have it over. She was underage, but with her parents' permission she was allowed to marry. And so the marriage took place, and a not-yet-showing Lydia moved to her new husband's military base. She attended the high school there with the children of officers and spent her evenings in parties with the mothers of her classmates. In general she felt very important and, as she was immune to the damage to her reputation, she was quite content.
Something also happened in Amarna which gave much greater joy to the Bennet sisters. One night Elizabeth returned to her tent to hear voices inside it. She paused at the opening flap and listened shamelessly, just long enough to guess that Darcy had given his "permission" for Charles to propose to Jane. After about five minutes, she walked into the tent, clearing her throat. Jane and Charles hastily broke a rather ardent embrace, and Elizabeth ran to hug her future brother-in-law. The shining look in Jane's sweet eyes was almost enough to erase all of Elizabeth's bitterness over Lydia's situation.
Something else happened - the sisters received a letter from Lydia. She and her husband were stationed in the South, and were "very merry." She swore that even at this early date she was beginning to show. She also described her wedding at the town hall, saying that in the end "no one was there but our parents and Dr. Darcy from your dig." Jane, though surprised, continued to read the letter aloud but Elizabeth heard no more. What was he doing there? Must he see all our humiliation? He must have heard, then, that Lydia is pregnant. She could have no rest until she knew exactly what role Dr. Darcy, still absent from the excavations, could have played in her sister's shameful affair. She remembered that her uncle Edward Gardiner had been helping her father to search for Lydia, so she quickly dashed off an e-mail to her aunt Elizabeth:
To: bgardiner@cheapside.com
From: dr.e.a.bennet@archaeologynet.org
Aunt Beth,
What was Dr. Darcy doing at Lydia's wedding? I'm sure that you can tell me, and I will have no peace until you do!
All my love,
Elizabeth.
Within hours she had received a lengthy reply from her aunt in the States:
To: dr.e.a.bennet@archaeologynet.org
From: bgardiner@cheapside.com
Lizzy,
I had no idea that you didn't know Dr. Darcy's role in Lydia's marriage. Let me enlighten you.
As soon as Dr. Darcy left the dig, he came to see us at home. He told us about the business with his sister, and said that one of her teachers had been fired for allowing George access to her. Darcy suspected that if George had to leave the country, he would go to this Madame Jeunesse in Montreal. Darcy went to Canada the next day and confronted Madame Jeunesse; that is how we discovered your sister's whereabouts. I suspect that Darcy also threatened George into returning to the States.
Dr. Darcy was at the hearing and his lawyers managed to get the sentence reduced. When he heard that Lydia was expecting, Darcy paid George handsomely (this Lydia will never know) to marry her and support the child. Your uncle begged to be allowed to repay Dr. Darcy as much as we were able, but Darcy wouldn't hear of it. He seemed to think he had caused this trouble by enjoining you to keep his sister's secret.
That is how Lydia's marriage came to pass. If there is anything else I can tell you, dearest Lizzy, please let me know. I hope that the dig is going well, and expect that you will soon be joined by Dr. Darcy himself for the remainder of the season.
Aunt Beth.
"If only he would come back!" Elizabeth said aloud.
Five days later when an overseas phone call came for Elizabeth, she was foolish enough to hope that it might be Dr. Darcy. To her very great shock, the voice on the other end was female, only slightly familiar, and very angry.
"Dr. Elizabeth Bennet?" the voice asked sharply.
"Yes?"
"This is Lady Catherine de Bourgh. You remember me."
Elizabeth frowned, confused. "Yes, ma'am."
"You must know the reason for my call."
"Actually, I have no idea," Elizabeth replied.
"Do not be flippant with me," Lady Catherine snapped. "I have heard a rumor from some of my society friends that your sister, Jane Bennet, is about to be married to Dr. Charles Bingley; is that so?"
"Yes, indeed."
"Very well. I have also heard the very alarming rumor that you, Elizabeth Bennet of nowhere and nobody in particular, would soon afterward be married to my nephew Dr. Fitzwilliam Darcy!"
Elizabeth held the receiver away from her ear and stared at it in pure shock.
"I called you so that we could get this misunderstanding cleared up as quickly as possible," Lady Catherine's disembodied voice went on. "My nephew is going to marry his cousin, my daughter Anne! What have you to say to that?"
"Only this," Elizabeth stammered, "that if he is, then he would not propose to me."
"Has he proposed to you?" Lady Catherine demanded.
"You have said that is impossible," Elizabeth responded, pulling herself together.
"It should be! But you might have seduced him into your clutches. I know what you professional women are like. No scruples - just like your infamous sister."
"You have insulted me on every possible point; I will not speak to you any further." Elizabeth was about to hang up, when Lady Catherine cried shrilly,
"Are you engaged to him?"
She couldn't lie. After a tense pause Elizabeth said simply, "No."
Lady Catherine breathed a sigh of relief on the other end. "And will you promise me never to become engaged to him?"
"No," Elizabeth said again, and slammed down the phone.
Elizabeth was further confused by a phone call from her father the next day. "Well, Lizzy," he said. "I hear I'm to congratulate you - and such a catch!"
Elizabeth was pleased that her father seemed to have regained his usual good spirits, but his remark puzzled her. "What?"
"I received a call today from your good friend William Collins, to congratulate me on Jane's 'most advantageous' marriage, and to warn me that Dr. Darcy's aunt, Lady Catherine, does not approve of his marrying you! Isn't that funny?" Dr. Bennet senior didn't get an answer as quickly as he expected. "Lizzy?"
"Oh, it's very funny," she lied. "But where would he get such an idea?"
"You know the rumor mill," Thomas Bennet said, laughing. "But just imagine - big famous Dr. Darcy, who never looked at you in his life!"
Elizabeth laughed weakly.
Three days later Elizabeth was working late at night when she heard someone enter the main tent. Without looking up, she said, "Would you bring me that other lantern, please?" The other person did not respond, but a moment later the lantern was placed on her desk. She started to say "thank you," but stopped when she looked up and saw the handsome face of Fitzwilliam Darcy half-illuminated by the lantern light. "Hello," she said simply.
"Hi," he replied.
"You're back."
"Yes."
For a long moment neither spoke. Elizabeth was forming a desperate resolution, and perhaps he might be doing the same. Finally she could wait no longer. "Dr. Darcy," she began, slipping back into formality, "I'm sorry, but I have to thank you for what you did for Lydia. Ever since I found out about it, I have been anxious to tell you how much I appreciate your intervention - they could not have been found without you. Don't blame my aunt," she added when she saw his distressed look, "Lydia let it slip, and then I begged my aunt for the truth. Please accept my thanks, on behalf of my entire family, since they don't know to whom they owe thanks."
Darcy looked down into her shining eyes, lifted to his in hope and apprehension both. How could she not know how he felt about her, that he would do anything . . .
"If you must thank me," he said slowly, "thank me for yourself alone. Your family owes me nothing. I respect them, but this I did only for you."
Elizabeth nearly fell out of her chair. She thought she must die with such happiness. He cared! The moment was thick with tension, but she began to dare hope that it might end happily after all.
"I know you too well," Darcy continued. "I know you wouldn't trifle with me. If you still feel the same way about me as you did before, please tell me now. My feelings are unchanged, but one word and I will never speak of it to you again."
Elizabeth swallowed hard and blinked back tears. "I am ashamed to remember what I said to you that night. My feelings now are so different. In fact, they are completely opposite." She was unable to say more, and hoped he would understand. She raised her eyes to his nervously, searching for some sign of his reaction.
She needn't have looked very hard. Darcy slowly and deliberately reached down, took her by the arms, and pulled her up out of the chair. He held her before him for a moment, reached up, and stroked her hair and the side of her face. He finally slipped his arms around her and held her firmly in his grasp. Their eyes met, and both smiled hesitantly. They leaned in as one, and their lips met with a spark that made both gasp. The kiss lasted quite a while, and when they had finally pulled apart Elizabeth buried her head in Darcy's shoulder and whispered, "I'm looking forward to the rest of the season."
The End!