Resolution and Reaction

By Sandy W

"To yield readily - easily - to the persuasion of a friend is no merit with you." -EB
"To yield without conviction is no compliment to the understanding of either." -FD

-- Volume I, Chapter X

Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

Chapter One

Posted on Saturday, 15 May 2004, at 9:01 a.m.

Three days after the Netherfield Ball, in London...

Charles Bingley was uneasy.

This unusual state was not due to the clouds gathering overhead - they posed no real threat - or even to the many miles between him and the woman he loved, though he felt the separation exceedingly. It was due to the fact that he had just endured a half-hour's lecture from his sisters on the unsuitability of returning to Netherfield for the winter. Caroline and Louisa were united in their belief that Jane Bennet, though a sweet girl, was very much below them. Bingley could not see this. He believed it was the other way around; she was a gentleman's daughter, whereas he had only a tradesman's income, ample as it was, to offer her. He had no connections, no title, not even his own estate, as he was only leasing Netherfield at present.

His sisters may have forgotten their humble beginnings, but Bingley himself had neither reason nor desire to forget. He was not ashamed, and he was not grasping. His wealth was of significance to him primarily as the means of providing for himself and those he loved. Despite Louisa's marriage and her own fortune, both she and Hurst were pleased to consider their brother's resources as their own when it suited them. And Caroline! Caroline was so sure she would be Mrs. Darcy one day, and wanted only to preside at her brother's table in the country and spend her fortune in London shops until her dearest wish was fulfilled. Bingley could not be so blind, however. Darcy hardly said an unnecessary word to either of his sisters; indeed, he did nothing to single Caroline out. Yes, it seemed Caroline would be dependent on her brother's generosity for some time to come.

When Bingley entered the Hurst townhouse that morning, he was anticipating a typical, if not entirely pleasant, day in the company of his nearest relations. He had been surprised by Caroline's note the night before informing him that the whole party had come to London. He wondered why they thought it necessary. He had no inkling that he was about to enter the fray, and being thus ill-prepared, his suffering was extreme. Had he known, he would have kept to his room at the hotel. His sisters had shaken his natural optimism not so much by this surprise attack on the qualifications, as it were, of his beloved, but more by their assertion that Miss Bennet held him in no special regard. They would listen to none of his assurances. Caroline went so far as to say that "Dear Jane" would accept his proposal only because her mother wished it, as it would greatly benefit her family. With the Bennets' estate entailed away and no dowry to speak of, how could Jane let the opportunity pass? Then he would be left with the cold comfort of having a mercenary wife without even her love to offer him and being considered a fool by all their London acquaintance.

While his sisters continued their campaign, waxing particularly eloquent on the vulgarity of Miss Bennet's relations, Bingley felt his head aching. Finally he could bear no more and he excused himself, claiming some pressing business. He then did something rare for him - he went for a walk in the park. He was glad the rain held off; he needed to calm himself, and he needed to think.

My sisters cannot be right about this. Surely Jane returns my feelings. She is so modest; would she even talk with them about her regard for me? How can they know more about how Jane feels than I do? Did they come to town simply to dissuade me from returning to her? As if they could.

Bingley recalled that Caroline had liberally sprinkled hints about Miss Darcy throughout their conversation. "Dear Georgiana has become so accomplished, don't you think, Charles? Hardly any young woman of our acquaintance can compare to her." "It is a pity that Jane does not play or sing, like our Georgiana." "It would give our family such joy to see you attached to someone of quality, like dear Mr. Darcy's sister. Indeed, I am sure Mr. Darcy himself would be quite as delighted as we, my dear brother." The recollection gave him pause.

Can they really want me to marry Miss Darcy? She is barely sixteen and not even out. Would Darcy be delighted? Does he expect me to become his brother? I surely do not expect him to become mine. The more Bingley thought about this, the more he realized how well these ideas suited Caroline's ambitions more than anyone else's. He did not know exactly what his friend's thoughts were on the matter, but Darcy had never even hinted at any expectations regarding Georgiana. Indeed, lately he seemed more protective of her than usual. Louisa, ever interested in improving the status of her family, would be delighted by such a match, but she mainly would be happy for Caroline's sake, for if he were to marry one Darcy, surely Caroline would have even better opportunities to recommend herself to the other. And they have decided that I should give up everything dear to me, overthrow every chance for happiness, to satisfy Caroline? Caroline, who would hardly be civil to our Hertfordshire neighbors to oblige me, who finds it onerous to do the smallest thing I ask of her? They must think me a fool, a puppet, or worse. Why must I always bend, always accommodate the others? This time I think I shall disoblige them, and I will take great pleasure in doing so.

Not one to be angry for long, Bingley sat down on a nearby bench to meditate on a happier subject - all his interactions with Miss Bennet. He was sure he had detected some partiality toward himself as early as that first assembly in Meryton. It is true that she smiles constantly, but she does not blush for everyone, her eyes do not light up at the approach of every gentleman in the neighborhood. Miss Bennet was very reserved, but no more than Darcy, and Bingley could read him well enough. Caroline, on the other hand, was happy to take Darcy's politeness for encouragement, and she seemed completely oblivious to the edge in Darcy's voice when he deflected the attention she showered on him. How could she claim the ability to read Jane Bennet clearly? Of one thing Bingley was in no doubt whatsoever - Miss Bennet was no fortune hunter. She met Darcy at that same assembly, and she has spent nearly as much time in his company as in mine. Still, she has never sought his attention; she has never shown any interest in him beyond that of a neighbor, even though he is at least twice as rich as I, and much more handsome. That must count for something.

He sat there for some time with his eyes closed, hardly aware of the smile on his face or the feel of the breeze against his skin. He dwelt on Miss Bennet's merits, picturing her delight in his addresses. He recalled how during the ball, after telling her of his intention to call on her the moment he returned from London, her cheeks reddened and her eyes lowered as she said, "Mr. Bingley, you shall always be very welcome at Longbourn, I'm sure." How she'd looked up and smiled then, her eyes bright with promise. He was certain he loved her; he was just as certain she could, did love him. She is altogether lovely.

Bingley stood. He was beginning to feel the cold, and his headache was nearly gone. He walked to the carriage and instructed the driver to take him to Darcy's townhouse. Seated inside, he leaned back and closed his eyes. He relaxed as he had been unable to do on the ride to the park. His brow crinkled as he thought of his friend. I suppose Darcy would agree with my sisters. Indeed, he probably consulted with them on the subject before they all descended upon London. I guess it's too much to hope that he'll support me in this. There's no love lost between him and Hertfordshire society. The only person he paid the slightest attention to was Miss Elizabeth; he took some pleasure in arguing with her, I dare say, though I can't say the same for Miss Elizabeth. He grinned at the recollection. Caroline was fond of teasing him about "Miss Eliza's fine eyes." I wonder why she mentioned her so much in his presence, and even more, why it never seemed to bother him. There was something else about it that puzzled Bingley. He pondered it for a minute, frowning a little as he concentrated, and then it came to him. Now that I think about it, I did catch him staring at her more than once. His eyes shot open. And he danced with her at the ball! How could I have missed it? Darcy, who never dances if he can avoid it, stood up with the same young lady he spurned when first they met, what did he say, not handsome enough to tempt him, was it? He laughed out loud. Apparently he thinks her handsome enough now. I wonder whether I'm the only Netherfield resident to be 'tempted' by a Bennet!

The carriage stopped outside of the Darcy home and Bingley bounded up the steps to the front door, where a servant greeted him cheerfully. After ascertaining that Darcy was in the library, Bingley started to make his way there. He had decided to confide in his friend and to hear his opinion on the matter, but he would not be swayed by any of his objections. That alone will shock Darcy and convince him that I mean business. And if he starts ranting like my sisters, I can always mention Miss Elizabeth. Feeling emboldened, he pushed open the library door.

Chapter Two

After Bingley left, Caroline and Louisa congratulated themselves. "I think we have given Charles much to consider, sister," said Louisa.

Caroline agreed. "Surely he will not defy us and make a fool of himself for that Jane Bennet. How dare she raise her sights to him! She has nothing, she is nothing. What a family, Louisa! Can you imagine having to entertain her mother and those impossible sisters of hers here, in London? It was intolerable in Hertfordshire! And her relatives in Cheapside! It is in every way insupportable!" Caroline said, rolling her eyes. "Besides," she offered, with slightly less confidence, "Charles cannot be insensible of Georgiana's charms." Caroline's ambition and avarice did not blind her to Jane's superior beauty.

"The main one being that she is brother to Mr. Darcy, of course!" Louisa said, giggling.

Caroline joined her in her laughter, then added, "That, and her 30,000 pounds! Charles will do quite well with her. She is so compliant, a quiet, mousy creature, so easily led, that they will suit admirably! And they will quite depend upon us and Mr. Darcy, of course, for guidance. Oh, that Charles had purchased an estate before now! He must give up Netherfield as soon as may be, and look for something nearer Derbyshire."

Louisa nodded. "When he is safely married to Miss Darcy and you become Mrs. Darcy, Caroline, Charles will see how little he misses Jane Bennet. Brother to Mr. Darcy, and doubly so! There can be no greater advantage for him, I am sure, and poor Jane has no such benefit to offer him." She loved to indulge her sister in her favorite pastime, which was planning her future with Mr. Darcy, of course.

Caroline reached up and slowly fingered one of the feathers in her headdress. She thought with satisfaction of her last letter written in Hertfordshire. "If poor, dear Jane dares to answer my letter, I shall reply in such terms as to leave her in no doubt of where she stands," said Caroline. "She will fade away quietly, I dare say, and Charles will be free of her. And as for Charles himself, Mr. Darcy will see him soon enough and finish what we have begun. Mr. Darcy will be grateful that we have laid the groundwork; it will make his task that much easier. We are of one mind regarding the Bennets." In spite of Miss Eliza's 'fine eyes,' she added to herself.

Darcy didn't notice at first that he had a visitor. He finally had abandoned all attempts to deal with his correspondence some minutes ago; he had been unable to focus on it for these last two hours at least. Images of sparkling eyes matched by a sparkling wit, bouncing curls, and a very pleasing figure would intrude. Now he sat before the fireplace, brandy in hand, staring blankly into the flames. He started when he heard his name and spun around in his chair to face an amused Bingley. Hoping his preoccupation was not apparent, he roused himself to greet his friend. "Good morning, Bingley. Good to see you. I've been meaning to speak with you about something particular," he said as he motioned him to sit.

Unlike earlier, Bingley was prepared for this interview. He paused and looked Darcy straight in the eyes before taking his seat. "If perchance the 'something particular' involves a certain lady in Hertfordshire," he began, "I will hear what you have to say, Darcy, though I do not know what can be added to Caroline's and Louisa's many words on the subject to me this morning. Before you begin, however, I must assure you that my mind is quite made up."

Darcy's surprise was evident in his countenance. He nearly dropped his glass as he lowered it to the side table. He had indeed intended to have a serious talk with Bingley about Miss Bennet, but never expected Bingley to anticipate him. He stared at the younger man a moment as if unsure that this was really his friend regarding him with such an uncharacteristic look of self-assurance, even archness, in his features. Darcy averted his eyes and fiddled with his signet ring for a moment, then recollected himself. He stood and leaned against the mantel.

Darcy had been concerned ever since Sir Lucas' intimation during the ball that their Meryton neighbors expected Bingley and Miss Bennet to be soon engaged. Foremost in his mind was his utter conviction of Miss Bennet's unworthiness due to her want of connections, fortune, and tolerable relations, and, most importantly, her lack of any symptom of true regard for Bingley. Further back in his mind, unacknowledged, were the fledgling thoughts that Bingley might make a fine match for Georgiana in a few years, and that keeping Bingley away from one Miss Bennet could only strengthen his own resolve to stay away from another.

Darcy's thoughts had not yet been examined to the point where he could recognize the inconsistencies in them. If Miss Bennet's uncle in trade made her unsuitable, why would he entertain thoughts of his sister marrying the son of a tradesman? If Miss Bennet's relations were difficult to bear, what could he say of Bingley's sisters? Did their fortunes make their irritating ways more tolerable, the transparency of their social aspirations excusable? Miss Bennet's younger sisters behaved poorly in company, but their youth was a credible excuse, and they did not pretend to be above their station. They might yet improve. He was in no position to judge them, for had not Georgiana herself, in spite of her superior breeding, recently undergone a trying experience which could have resulted in consequences much more severe than the occasional snicker or snide remark inspired by the younger Bennets? And was Mr. Hurst, who was barely civil and who spent much of his time in company inebriated or even asleep, truly that much less vulgar than Mrs. Bennet or Mrs. Philips? Perhaps his standards could use some reevaluation.

However, none of these deeper issues troubled Darcy at the moment (that was to happen later in the day), and thus he was able to recover from his surprise and articulate his concerns to Bingley. He spoke well, and within a few minutes he had abandoned his position at the mantel in favor of pacing, preferring the constant motion as he expounded on the difficulties of an alliance with the Bennets.

Bingley listened politely, even thoughtfully, for he did have the highest respect for Darcy. However, until then it had never been so clear to him just how wrong his best friend could be, how mistaken in his notions. It seems Darcy is human after all.

Bingley had drawn his own conclusions as to his sisters' motivation for their attempts at persuasion, but now he considered what aim Darcy might have in pressing his case. Darcy seemed to feel his opinions strongly; Bingley could only wonder at his zealousness on his behalf. Surely he could not have any objection to Jane herself. Yet he seemed to believe, as his sisters claimed, that she felt nothing for him. As Darcy stopped in front of his friend to further press this point, Bingley felt the need to interrupt.

"Darcy, do you mean to tell me that because Miss Bennet simply welcomes my company, says and does nothing whatsoever to discourage me, and communicates her pleasure in our acquaintance completely within the bounds of propriety that she is deficient in this regard? Should she perhaps follow another's example and throw herself at me then, praising my home and my sister and my library in anyone's hearing, simply to convince my friends of the sincerity of her affections? Yet if she were to do so, I imagine you would hardly hold her in high esteem for it."

Darcy grimaced slightly in disgust at this less than subtle reference to Caroline's efforts to gain his favor. "You misunderstand me, Charles. You know that is not what I mean," he said, exasperation in his voice. This was enough to give Bingley the boldness to continue.

"Then what do you mean? You want to sway me to your opinion, and I dare say you believe everything you are telling me, but how can these objections really count for anything? Miss Bennet's connections and the smallness of her dowry do not worry me. Her having an uncle in trade can hardly offend me! And as to her supposed indifference, well, I am certain of her regard. Even if I were not, I would offer her the chance to love me as I do her."

"But how can you ignore the importance of family and societal obligation, of establishing yourself creditably in the world?" Darcy responded, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. While Darcy continued in this vein, something pulled at Bingley's memory. As the memory became clearer, Bingley smiled to himself. He allowed Darcy to have his say, and then decided to end their argument and at the same time test his theory about Darcy's fascination with Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

"I have heard your opinion, and it seems we remain at cross purposes. What did you yourself say once, Darcy? I believe I heard your view on just this sort of dilemma - let me see, something about yielding without conviction not reflecting well on either party, was it not? It was during one of your famous debates with Miss Elizabeth while her sister was recuperating at Netherfield. I'm sure you recall it. You may think I don't pay much attention to what goes forward in my own drawing room, but I do. I'll not yield, Darcy. My conviction is the opposite of yours." Bingley had watched his friend carefully as he spoke, so he had not missed Darcy's brief loss of composure and struggle to regain it. Bingley fought back the grin that threatened to overspread his face.

As pleased with himself as he was for standing his ground, Bingley could not be insensible of the awkwardness his friend was experiencing. He became serious. "I thank you for your concern. I do not want to appear ungrateful, truly I do not. Your friendship means a great deal to me, and there is much that I owe you. Still, do you not think that you are taking too much upon yourself, offering such particular advice? Could there be something to what Caroline says?" Here he hesitated, and lowered his voice as he continued. "She seems to think, Darcy, forgive my frankness, but she gave me to understand that you would not be displeased if I formed an attachment to your sister. Is there any truth to this?"

At the mention of his sister, Darcy's pulse quickened. He endeavored to calm himself and responded immediately. "Bingley, you know Georgiana is not out and will not be for another year or two, and I have no wish for her to marry immediately thereafter. It is simply too early to begin entertaining any specific thoughts about that aspect of her future." As he said the words, he realized that they were true. He felt no loss on his sister's behalf. He began to see that any hope for Georgiana and Bingley to be attached was born after Ramsgate out of a need to protect her, to have a brother-in-law whom he could trust implicitly not to harm her.

Bingley released the breath he had been holding. "I must own that I am relieved to hear it," said Bingley, "because I would be a most wretched husband to her, or to any woman who was not Jane Bennet."

Darcy was now thoroughly uncomfortable with their conversation and wished it were already at an end. He could not fathom how Bingley had not capitulated. He found it disturbing, disorienting. Clearly he has given much consideration to this matter. He seems unusually determined. I hope he is not acting simply to oppose his sisters. No, there is nothing of carelessness or even anger about his countenance. I've never seen Bingley so set on a course, so impervious to persuasion. Darcy was convinced that his own assessment was correct, that Miss Bennet did not love his friend. His only hope was that she would refuse him, for it was clear that Bingley would return within the next day or two to tender his proposal. Otherwise, Darcy thought, I'll have to stand up with her at the wedding. How shall I bear it? Of course it was not the eldest Bennet girl he was thinking of; she was not the one who had shattered his peace of mind.

Bingley was content. He had shown himself a man where it mattered. He would finish the remainder of his business that afternoon, and he would pick up his angel's ring from the engraver the following morning. He could not repress a smile. He rose to his feet and addressed Darcy.

"It must be noon already. Take lunch with me at the club."

"Thank you, no. Another time, Bingley. I have been neglecting my work," Darcy replied, motioning toward the piles of correspondence on his desk, "and I had better make up for it today."

"Will you accompany me to Hertfordshire when I return two days hence?"

"I imagine not. I would like to spend more time here with Georgiana."

"She is more than welcome to join us there, though she would need to bring her companion along as I have reason to doubt that my sisters will return with me."

Darcy offered no response to this invitation. The two stood in silence for some moments. Darcy walked over to the mantel and gently fingered a knick-knack that had been his mother's. Wickham was still in Hertfordshire, he assumed, and Bingley could not know that he would do anything to shield his sister from that man. He'd know if you told him, came the fleeting thought. But how can I tell him, or anyone? This has become too much. And then there's the matter of Elizabeth. An image of her, seeing to her sister's comfort at Netherfield, flashed before his eyes. He thought of how devoted she was to Jane, of how Georgiana would blossom under such sisterly devotion. She will not leave my thoughts even for a moment. I cannot continue in this state. I must conquer this.

Meanwhile, Bingley regarded his friend, his sentiments an odd mixture of triumph and concern. Darcy had been distracted throughout their discussion. Clearly he was taken aback by Bingley's uncharacteristic confidence, but there was something else. He was not quite himself. He sounded as if he were trying to convince himself as well as me. Perhaps he is really in a muddle over Jane's sister. As he thought about it, Bingley concluded that Darcy and Miss Elizabeth might actually suit if they ever managed to see eye to eye long enough to consider it. Both were avid readers and clever conversationalists, passionate and opinionated, not easily intimidated by others. If Darcy could, this once, put his own felicity before his overdeveloped, misdirected sense of duty! He is his own master. He need oblige no one but himself. The situation was difficult but not hopeless. Surely her ill opinion would give way in the face of his true character. If she really knew him, she could not fail to value his generous nature, but Darcy never tried hard enough to please. In his defense, he rarely needed to; most people excused his pride and deep reserve in light of his consequence and his many recommendations. But Elizabeth Bennet was not most people.

Bingley was determined to mention Miss Elizabeth once more before quitting the house. He knew it was risky, but his courage was high. After all, he was mere days away from securing his own happiness. Throughout their friendship, Darcy gave the advice and Bingley took it. That was the way it always had been. However Bingley sensed that by not bending his will, in some way he had risen in Darcy's esteem. He could not resist the urge to make use of this rare insight into his friend's struggles. He strode to the door and turned back to take leave.

"Well, Darcy, I will leave you to your letters and your brandy. I suppose I would be in just such a state myself if I had spent as much time in Hertfordshire arguing with my Miss Bennet as you did with yours! Quite an unconventional way of paying court!" Darcy absolutely started at this; his face blanched. Bingley's expression became inscrutable as he delivered the final blow, "By the way, do you think if Miss Elizabeth were to exchange her dislike of you for a more...accommodating sentiment, you'd be a little less nice about her dowry and her relations? Well, I do hope you can at least be civil to each other for the sake of my wedding. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Love is a blessed thing, Darcy. I highly recommend it." With that, he left.

Chapter Three

"What?!" Darcy could not believe his ears. He neither noticed that he had exclaimed aloud nor registered the sound in the hall of Bingley's muffled laughter indicating he'd been overheard. He stood gaping at the library door. Did Bingley just tell him that the depth of his attraction to Elizabeth was so obvious? Well, Caroline certainly had noticed it, but he had admitted his admiration of Elizabeth to Caroline several weeks ago. But did Bingley just say she disliked him? How...? She doesn't like me? Why ever not? This is all Wickham's doing! Who knows what lies he's been feeding her?

Darcy loosened his cravat as his thoughts swirled around in his head. He was tempted to chase after Bingley to refute what he said, to tell him about Wickham, but no, that would be wholly unreasonable. There was no cause for such a disclosure. Still, something didn't fit. Wickham had just entered the neighborhood in the middle of November. But Bingley had referred to arguments at Netherfield during Jane's illness; they had occurred before Elizabeth could have met Wickham. Besides, Bingley hardly spent any time with Elizabeth at the ball; undoubtedly he was too busy enjoying her elder sister's smiles to give any attention to Elizabeth's misplaced sympathy for that scoundrel. Even before the ball he must have discerned my partiality for Elizabeth, and her supposed lack of amiable feelings toward me! Ha! So he says. He's just upset because I was so honest with him, because I told him that Jane is indifferent to him. He is more affected by our talk than he seemed to be. Good! He will see the truth of it once he calms down.

No sooner had Darcy finished the thought than he knew that he was being ungenerous. Bingley would never stoop to such a hollow, vengeful attack. He had not been upset at all; on the contrary, he had seemed perfectly calm when he said those words. It was Darcy himself who was upset. His hands flew to his temples, and his fingers raked through his unruly curls and rested on the nape of his neck. Why had Bingley said that Elizabeth disliked him? True, she didn't seem the type to be swayed by fortune and rank; it made her all the more attractive in his eyes. She wasn't overbearing in her attentions like Caroline. She never even sought him out. She disagreed with him more often than not, and she was not so intimidated by him that she couldn't make sport of him. She never shrank from his gaze, stammering and blushing furiously as other young ladies might be expected to do. In fact, she met his stare with a look of challenge and, well, impertinence...

The truth hit him like a slap in the face. What made me think she ever liked me in the first place? He had been pacing, but at this thought he stopped. He felt weak, lightheaded. He walked over to his chair and sank down into it.

He had been so enchanted, so caught...had his rational mind deserted him? Perhaps she was so unlike the ladies of his acquaintance because she didn't care for his good opinion. But I know there is more than that! I do not want her out of some perverse desire for the unattainable! She is witty, knowledgeable, beautiful, passionate! She plays and sings with such feeling, she lights up the room with her eyes...

He rested his head in his hands as snippets of their conversations came back to him.

"You are severe on us."

"I entreat you not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner...Mr. Darcy is all politeness."

"...and now despise me if you dare."

"Such as vanity and pride..."

"...a propensity to hate everybody."

"We are each of an unsocial and taciturn disposition..."

A groan escaped his lips. Yes, Elizabeth had managed to communicate her disdain for him to anyone who cared to notice. He alone had been too thick-headed to see it for what it was. In fact he couldn't think of another person she treated that way, not even Caroline, much as the latter deserved it. Perhaps she chooses not to offend her future sister-in-law? He laughed bitterly at the idea.

More images intruded. Elizabeth greeting Bingley with pleasure. Conversing animatedly with Charlotte Lucas. Tolerating Sir William with equanimity. Smoothing over one of her mother's ill-judged comments. Walking three miles over muddy fields to tend to Jane. And me? She has challenged, contradicted, even mocked me. "Oh, how she must hate me! And she believes I hate her! What a fool I've been!" The words hung in the air. The fire was dying out, but Darcy actually felt warmer. He removed his cravat and wiped his brow with it.

Even without the wagging of Wickham's slanderous tongue, Darcy had done enough damage on his own to earn Elizabeth's disapproval, he was certain of that. And Wickham likely would have told no tales unless he saw that he could gain her sympathy. He probably asked her what she thought of me before laying all his 'misery' before her. Unlike me, he probably flattered her from the moment they met. I can't help it that I am no flatterer.

Darcy recalled what he'd said to Bingley about Elizabeth in order to avoid dancing that first night in Meryton. He suspected then that he'd been overheard, but he had never even considered apologizing. His subsequent behavior to her apparently strengthened her initial opinion. How else could she fail to appreciate his singling her out by dancing with her at Netherfield? How else could she bring up Wickham's claims in a ballroom? Darcy never said anything overt about her relations in her hearing, but he made his superiority felt, his disapproval of them written all over his face. Where Bingley was all affability and attention, he was barely civil, possibly even rude, to the Bennets. In one sense it is good that Bingley is determined to return to Hertfordshire. At least Elizabeth will not be able to blame me for keeping him away; I'm sure she thinks me capable of it! And she would be just in her accusation, based on my advice to Bingley today. This will be one less charge against me.

Around noon, Mr. Hurst returned from his club to the clucking and cackling of the resident hens. He mumbled his greeting and headed for the dining room. He never had understood how the sisters found so much to talk about, or why so much of it had to do with Darcy. Darcy was only a man, after all. Surely he doesn't waste one thought in a hundred on my sister-in-law. He ate quickly and retired to his study to enjoy a drink in relative peace.

Chapter Four

Posted on Tuesday, 18 May 2004, at 1:51 a.m.

"Fitzwilliam, is something the matter?" Georgiana was hesitant to broach the subject, but she was not sure when she'd get another opportunity. Her brother's behavior since returning to London was such as he had never exhibited before. Had he come back unexpectedly just to glower and brood and sulk? He had hardly looked at her in the last two days. She had heard him mention her name to someone, probably Mr. Bingley, as she walked by the library door the day before, but she had not lingered to make sense of what was being said.

"No, no. I am well, dearest." Darcy interrupted his daydreams of deep auburn ringlets and pert smiles to reply to his sister's inquiry. He picked at his breakfast and lapsed back into his reverie, no longer attempting to resist thinking of Elizabeth.

Georgiana saw his sad expression and heard the faraway quality in his voice and assumed the worst. She tried to stem the tears that threatened to flow down her cheeks. If she started now, she would not stop for many minutes and she would not be able to get even one word out. She swallowed hard and spoke again, although she couldn't look at her brother's face. "Fitzwilliam, I know that what I have done has hurt you deeply. I am so sorry! If I could erase the entire summer from history I would do it. I can never make it up to you, but I cannot bear for you to think ill of me! Please say that you will forgive me in time!" With the last word, she sobbed loudly and buried her face in her hands.

Darcy was startled by this display, but rushed to his sister's side. He embraced her and offered her his handkerchief. I cannot allow her to think that she is responsible for my mood. But how can I tell her? I must, if only so that she will know I do not blame her in the least.

Darcy held her for several minutes. He was not fit to be in company this morning. After the previous day's disastrous visit with Bingley, he had worked well into the night and slept ill. Since returning to London, he had been distracted, solemn, and even more reclusive than usual. He and his sister had been apart for months, yet he hardly remembered greeting Georgiana or speaking more than ten words to her since their reunion. No wonder she thought he was angry with her.

When Georgiana's tears had ceased, Darcy took her by the hand and led her to the music room. Still holding her hand, he motioned to a sofa and sat down next to her. He looked at this young girl with golden hair so like their mother's, a girl who might have been a married woman by now if not for what he liked to think of as divine intervention. Had he arrived at Ramsgate to save his sister from such an awful fate only to have her live in misery ever after? Was her wretchedness in believing herself lowered in his eyes really less than what betrayal by Wickham would have caused? Did it matter? He closed his eyes a moment. He knew what he must do.

He would stop being Darcy the father figure, Darcy the guardian, Darcy the wealthy and well-connected gentleman farmer. Away from the eyes of society and unencumbered by the presence of guests or even servants, Darcy the brother would have to do. Georgiana was nearly grown up now. As siblings, here in the comfort of their own home, could they not relate as equals? They had so much in common - both still feeling the loss of their parents, reserved and uneasy in company, their peace recently wounded, themselves in need of guidance, a friend, a confidante. He would start there.

He composed himself and, as eloquently as he could, he assured her that she meant just as much as ever to him. That he was proud of her and always would be. How he wished that their mother and father could see the beautiful person she had become. That she needn't be afraid to talk to him about anything, they would always have each other. That they couldn't afford to let Wickham, or anyone for that matter, hurt them forever. That she would meet a man someday who would treasure her as she was meant to be treasured.

Georgiana firmly squeezed her brother's hand in thanks and offered him a faint, but genuine, smile. Then she listened with widely varying emotions as he told her all about his visit to Hertfordshire, and the lady who had captured his heart.

In the Hurst carriage, Caroline and Louisa were discussing Charles and wondering whether to send another note to his hotel. They had just called at Darcy's townhouse but neither gentleman had been there. Miss Darcy had greeted them cordially, but as she could offer no information about either brother's whereabouts, the ladies did not stay long.

"Georgiana did not look at all well this morning, Louisa."

"Yes, she was rather pale."

"It's a shame that she had no news of Charles. I wonder if she has gotten word of his fascination with Jane. That may well have worried her. After all, she may feel some affection for him. I imagine she hardly sees any other gentlemen, certainly none as frequently she does Charles. With Charles being her brother's particular friend, it is inevitable that they should be attached. Surely Mr. Darcy has invited Charles to stay with him. That is the best arrangement for all concerned."

Louisa rather doubted that Georgiana would be crying her eyes out and making herself ill over their brother; she'd seen no sign of attachment between them as yet. Still she did not want to go through the trouble of disabusing Caroline of the notion, for in the end, was that not what they both wanted? They chatted comfortably for the duration of the ride home.

As they walked inside, Caroline noticed a letter addressed to her on the table in the foyer. She picked it up and read it, disgust showing in her features.

"What is it, sister?"

"It is from Jane. She must have written me the moment she got my letter for this to have arrived so soon. Well, I shall reply to her just as quickly. Hopefully this will be the last letter I need write to her. After all, why should she entertain false hopes for one minute longer than necessary?" She hurried off to her writing desk, and in less than an hour a second letter to Jane Bennet from Caroline Bingley was on its way to join the first.

Darcy had left Georgiana much recovered when he departed for his club. As he glanced back, he could see a carriage pulling up to his house. He was glad to have missed whoever it was. He was interested in seeing only one person at present. Only one person currently in London, that is. He entered the club and scanned the room in search of a familiar blond mop of curls. He was not disappointed.

"Darcy! Come join me, old man." Bingley was off to himself in one corner of the room. Darcy made his way over to him, nodding to a few acquaintances on the way.

"I was hoping I'd find you here."

"I completed the last of my errands this morning, and after yesterday, I am in no mood to spend time at Hurst's with Louisa and Caroline. Perhaps I will visit them briefly to take leave, or even better, simply send a note. It may be some time before they are reconciled to my choice." The younger man frowned. "Of course there's always the chance that I'm being too sanguine and Jane will refuse me." He laughed nervously.

"Yesterday you were certain of her affections."

"True, true. However, I suppose I am allowed a little anxiety given the circumstances."

"Indeed."

Darcy studied the man seated across from him. Bingley was one of the very few people who really knew Darcy. He could not let his personal struggles injure their friendship. Bingley would be a difficult friend to replace. Darcy had thought much about their previous conversation and its implications. His openness with Georgiana had freed him of a great burden. He was not interested in retreating into his reserve.

"Bingley, I have much to say. If it's all the same to you, I'd prefer to discuss matters in my study. Do you have time now? I promise you it will not be a repetition of yesterday."

Bingley was curious. What else could Darcy have to impart? "Certainly," he replied. "I could do with a glass of your excellent port."

They left the club and took Darcy's carriage back to the house. Within an hour of their arrival, Bingley was made aware of the essentials regarding Georgiana's excursion to Ramsgate as well as Darcy's difficulties in Hertfordshire, which he had decided to resolve if possible rather than evade. Bingley was shocked to say the least. After all was revealed and after some quiet reflection by both parties, Bingley resumed their dialogue.

"Does this mean the four of us will set out early tomorrow for the country then?"

"Not quite. Georgiana will join me later, perhaps for Christmas. She needs to prepare herself to see Wickham again. At least she's no longer attached to him; nevertheless, it will be difficult for her."

"That sounds wise. Maybe by then my sisters will change their minds, Caroline at least. I shall be glad to have your presence and support, especially at this time, Darcy. I know now it comes at a high cost."

Darcy only nodded his acknowledgment.

The next morning the two friends left for Hertfordshire.

Chapter Five

It was mid morning when Darcy's carriage stopped in front of Netherfield. The gentlemen had made their preparations and retired early the previous evening so as to depart London by first light. They alighted from the carriage and within a half hour they had freshened up and mounted their horses, bound for Longbourn.

Darcy had only the smallest flicker of hope. His one consolation was that Elizabeth was not indifferent to him. He affected her strongly; if only he could redirect her sentiments, all would be well. He would have to try. Season after season in town had failed to supply him with the slightest temptation to marry. It was unthinkable that he should ever bend to the wishes of Lady Catherine and wed his cousin. Any joy resulting from such a union would belong solely to his aunt, for Anne dreaded the possibility just as much as he. He was nearly eight and twenty, and the pressure from his aunt would only increase during his next visit to Kent. There would be difficulties - Aunt Catherine would be livid! - but what a sweet relief it would be to go to Rosings with an understanding, or dare he think it, betrothed, or even married!

As the gentlemen crossed the boundary between Netherfield and Longbourn, Darcy thought about what he would say to Elizabeth. At the very least, he had to tell her something about Wickham. That gentleman had imposed on her long enough, and Darcy could not be comfortable leaving her defenseless against the man's easy charm.

Soon they reached the house. Bingley was ready to lead the way when Darcy stopped him with a touch on the arm. "Let me, Bingley. I owe her this."

"Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley, ma'am." Hill's voice broke the uneasy silence in the sitting room where all the Bennets were gathered in preparation for the short walk to church. Breakfast had been a disappointing business. No one had eaten much. Mrs. Bennet's anger at Elizabeth was palpable and nothing seemed to temper it. Elizabeth was subdued, Mr. Bennet merely amused by it all, and Mary feeling a sense of loss she did not care to examine. Jane was withdrawn, unable to stop worrying about her letter from Caroline. Even Kitty and Lydia could not persist in their natural giddiness in an atmosphere so charged.

Darcy was not smiling, but he might as well have been. The difference in his demeanor was apparent to every other person in the room, and astounding to all but Bingley and himself. He bowed deeply and greeted Mr. and Mrs. Bennet and their daughters more graciously than he ever had before. He explained that he and Bingley had returned to Netherfield not one hour ago and had hastened to see them, intending to escort them to the church. It was impossible to refuse such a request, and equally impossible not to wonder what prompted it. They could believe it of Bingley, but his proud, disagreeable friend had never sought their company before. What could he mean by it? Was this the same man?

Jane was in shock; she knew not what she did. Her fingers shook as she held her reticule in her lap. Her gaze was riveted to Bingley, and even Darcy could not misinterpret the look on her face. Initially she appeared as surprised as the rest, but now she seemed almost overcome with happiness and possibly relief. Darcy cringed inwardly at the damage he and Bingley's sisters had nearly inflicted on these two.

The Master and Mistress of Longbourn were among the first to recover. Mr. Bennet exerted himself to express his gratitude for their kind gesture and to make appropriate enquiries after the gentlemen's health and that of their families.

Mrs. Bennet directed a question to Bingley. "I hope you had a pleasant ride this morning, sir. Did your sisters return with you or do they remain in London?"

"They are settled at Mr. Hurst's house in town, and are likely to continue there some weeks, I believe."

Elizabeth saw that Jane was still quite discomposed, and she wanted both to ease her sister's mind and to watch Darcy's reaction for confirmation of her suspicions. "Mr. Bingley," she ventured, "you must forgive us; not all of us were expecting you so soon. You see, your sister wrote mine to say that she believed your business could not be concluded in such a short time, and that is why the whole party followed you to town." She dared not mention what else the letter contained. Elizabeth watched both gentlemen. Bingley looked almost angry before his usual smile returned, and Darcy looked conscious for a moment. After greeting the party, his gaze had never strayed far from Elizabeth, but now he found it difficult to meet her eyes.

Bingley prevaricated a bit. "Caroline is sometimes a little too solicitous of my comfort. I am sorry if her words were the cause of a misunderstanding." He looked directly at Jane as he said this, and was rewarded with a becoming blush. Jane looked down a moment, and when she lifted her eyes again, Bingley was standing very near her.

"Shall I escort you, Miss Bennet?" Jane, recovering her natural serenity, stood and slipped her arm in his. Darcy followed Bingley's example and offered his arm to the second eldest Miss Bennet. Elizabeth again was all astonishment, yet she could hardly refuse. Her mother would be doubly angry with her for rebuffing a man with Ł10,000 a year and rejecting an offer of marriage from the heir of Longbourn in the space of a week. Darcy could not be aware of the position in which he placed her with his simple request. It was unfair to hold it against him, but she added insensitivity to her long list of his faults. As they left the room, she realized she was being unkind. She was not as uncomfortable as she expected to be. She had been physically close to him when they danced together, but not for a prolonged period, and the sensations it engendered were not at all unpleasant. He is a handsome man, after all. I have never denied that. It struck her that if she had met this Mr. Darcy at the assembly months ago, this solicitous, even charming man who walked into the sitting room this morning, she'd have fallen for him in an instant.

Bingley chatted amicably with Jane in the foyer, waiting for the others. He repressed the urge to retrieve the ring from his pocket and declare himself immediately. There would be ample time for that later. His angel was saying something about her aunt coming to visit soon, so he listened intently and tried not to appear too distracted.

Darcy noticed Elizabeth's eyes darting about. She looked as if she would run away if given the chance. He was concerned that this might be all the time they had in each other's company today, so he decided to secure an interview as quickly as possible. He led her past the other couple and out the front door. When they had walked far enough away to avoid being overheard, he leaned down and spoke close to Elizabeth's ear. "I am sure it comes as no surprise to you that my friend wishes to spend some time with your sister today. Would it suit you if we four walked out on the grounds here after we return from service?" Elizabeth knew not how to reply. A puzzled look overspread her face. What will this man say next? Darcy was concerned now; Elizabeth was rarely this uncommunicative. "I hope my suggestion was not improper. Will the weather be too uncomfortable for you or Miss Bennet? Perhaps I should not have mentioned it. I only wished to decrease the likelihood of further misunderstandings."

Elizabeth could not have discerned his underlying meaning. She thought he referred only to the confusion Caroline's letter had caused Jane. "No, your suggestion was very thoughtful," she said quickly, "and I would be pleased to abide by it. Neither Jane nor I would be inconvenienced by the weather. It is not so cold, and the grounds are dry as we've had no rain since before the ball." She blushed at the memory of that night. She remembered too well her mortification at her family's indelicate display. Mr. Darcy had seen it all; she recalled his grave look as he had observed them there. With such unhappy thoughts for companions, she did not expect to see him smiling down at her now, but that was exactly what he was doing. Darcy was thrilled to get a positive answer from Elizabeth, and he felt all the pleasure of anticipation as he imagined being in her company again in the afternoon.

Upon entering the church, Mr. Bennet saw the raised eyebrows and heard the whispers as the two most eligible men in the neighborhood escorted his eldest daughters to their seats. The gentlemen sat directly behind the family, and they were prompt at the end of service to solicit the company of Jane and Elizabeth for the walk home. Bingley was as gregarious as usual, greeting people he had hosted at the ball less than a week ago as if he had not seen them for a month or more. Darcy was causing odd reactions in more than one quarter; he actually initiated conversation with a few of the locals. No one quite knew what to make of him.

Mr. Bennet was a curious man. He liked a good puzzle, and here was one right before his eyes. Just yesterday, Longbourn had been in uproar. His wife ranted about her "unfeeling, ungrateful daughter" one moment, spouted off about "horrid Mr. Collins" the next, and, for variety, mixed in several bitter comments about "those conniving Lucases." Today she was amazingly calm, smiling broadly at the backs of Bingley and Jane and managing to be civil to Darcy and Lizzy. How had this change come to pass? He had no cause to complain, to be sure, but he could not be comfortable. I will have to keep my eye on that Darcy.

When Bingley's note arrived, the ladies of the house were still abed. Hurst read the missive, smirked, and placed it on the hall table. I'll not disturb them now. Let them come upon this on their own. He went in to breakfast and ate heartily. Might as well fortify myself for the day ahead, he mused. Bingley will probably be an engaged man before Louisa and Caroline finish their toilette.

Caroline was furious with her brother-in-law. She had seen the note from Charles after a late breakfast, and she promptly berated the servant for not bringing it to her immediately. He amazed her by saying that Hurst had received and read the note hours before. She all but dragged Louisa out of the house and hastened to Darcy's address, venting to her sister the whole way. Miss Darcy was surprised to see them again so soon, but she welcomed them with the utmost politeness and invited them to remain for lunch. Miss Bingley was almost brusque in her refusal and her subsequent request to speak with the master of the house. Miss Darcy was confused by her inquiry.

"Did not your brother tell you?"

"Tell us what, Georgiana?" Caroline was losing what little patience she had. "Charles sent us a note this morning regarding his plans, but that is why we're here to see your brother. He must follow Charles immediately. There is not a moment to lose."

Miss Darcy's perplexity was clearly displayed. "But he does not need to follow Mr. Bingley. He is with him even now. They left very early this morning." She was beginning to understand. "Did you not know that my brother accompanied Mr. Bingley to Netherfield?"

Caroline's mouth opened, but no reply came out. Louisa rose quickly. She thanked Miss Darcy for her hospitality and made their excuses while leading her sister from the room. As their carriage pulled away, Caroline's faced drained of color and her eyes grew wide in horror. She shrieked, "My letter! Oh, sister! What is to be done?"

Louisa suddenly realized what she meant. She did not ask what her sister had written to Jane; it would not help to talk about it. She sighed. There was no consolation she could offer.

Chapter Six

Darcy thought he would be exhausted by the morning's efforts, but surprisingly he felt invigorated. He had gotten sufficient rest, if not sleep, in the carriage that morning. He and Bingley had exchanged few words on the ride to Netherfield; each man was contemplating the path his life was about to take. After greeting the Bennets and surviving the initial exchange of pleasantries, Darcy felt that he could bear their company tolerably enough, and having Elizabeth at his side made everything easier. Why did I ever want to repress my feelings for her?

After the party entered the house, Mrs. Bennet rushed off to give directions to the cook. The gentlemen had accepted Mr. Bennet's invitation to luncheon. Kitty and Lydia removed their coats and hats and began wondering aloud when they might expect another visit from the officers. Wickham's name was spoken more than once. Mary excused herself and went to her room to read. Darcy pulled Bingley aside and informed him of the planned walk in the garden just before Mr. Bennet engaged them in conversation. Elizabeth and Jane talked quietly together on the other side of the room. Elizabeth smiled slyly at her sister.

"Well, Jane? What do you think now of your letter?"

Jane blushed in consternation. "Lizzy, I can hardly talk of that here." Elizabeth looked at her until she relented. "Oh, I will tell you then! It does seem you were right, though I would not want to think so ill of Caroline."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Of whom do you ever want to think ill? But tell me, Jane, what can you make of Mr. Darcy's behavior today?" She tried not to look overly interested in her sister's reply.

"He certainly has been very agreeable, very pleasant. He has been very attentive to you, Lizzy. Do you think you can finally forgive him now for his initial slight?"

Elizabeth sighed. "You would ask it of me, would you not? Well, I will say that I have never been so tempted to do so before. Still, I cannot so easily forget his mistreatment of another." They talked of other matters, occasionally glancing at the gentlemen.

As soon as Mrs. Bennet returned, Mr. Bennet left the entertainment of their guests to his wife and retreated to the library. Bingley made the one request that could not fail to bring pleasure to all assembled.

"Mrs. Bennet, Darcy and I would be honored if we might walk out with Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth for a few moments before the meal."

Mrs. Bennet smiled and flitted about. "Certainly, Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy! Take all the time you like. Jane, Lizzy - come along, girls!" she called out as she motioned to them.

Pleased as she was with Bingley's marked attention to Jane and what was sure to result from it, Mrs. Bennet was by no means ready to forgive her second child. She felt as keenly as before the ruined prospect of having another daughter well married. As Elizabeth moved toward the table to put down her reticule and prayer book, her mother followed and took the opportunity to scold her. "Hurry, Lizzy! This is all for Jane and Mr. Bingley, you know. Don't keep Mr. Darcy waiting. He's being very civil to you, though you deserve no such attention after your treatment of Mr. Collins! I wish he had asked Kitty to walk out instead!" Mary was hardly in her mother's thoughts, and as for Lydia, it would never occur to Mrs. Bennet to suggest that her favorite daughter spend time with Mr. Darcy; after all, he might revert to his ill-natured behavior at any moment for all she knew. Unfortunately, Mrs. Bennet's voice carried over to the window where Darcy was standing.

Darcy had heard the rumors that Collins was to inherit the Bennets' estate, and he had seen the clergyman's attentions to Elizabeth at the ball. He wondered whether Collins had gone so far as to make her an offer. If so, clearly she had rejected him. What other choice did she have? But I see how that would make her mother angry with her. They have lost their chance to secure Longbourn. Perhaps that is why she has been so quiet today. As he approached Elizabeth and offered his arm to her, Darcy held tightly to the shred of hope he brought with him from London. He would need it now more than ever.

Charlotte sat quietly in Lucas Lodge, trying to ignore the noise around her as she sipped her tea and thought over the morning. The sermon had been nothing extraordinary, but she suspected that it was superior to what she would soon be subjected to on a weekly basis in Kent. She sighed. There would be trials to bear, mediocre sermons among the least of them; she knew that when she set out to win Mr. Collins. Still, she was optimistic and looked forward to being mistress of her own home. It had been rather pleasant to receive the congratulations and good wishes of those who had heard about her engagement. Meanwhile, Lizzy spurns anyone who looks like he might have serious intentions toward her, that is, anyone who actually has the means to support her. Charlotte had noticed Mr. Darcy's behavior. She knew she had not imagined his attraction to her friend all those weeks ago. Charlotte could see Elizabeth refusing Mr. Collins in spite of the entail, ill-suited by disposition as she was to tolerate the man, and she could hardly complain, as Elizabeth's loss was her gain. But Mr. Darcy! If she passes him up on account of some insignificant officer with nothing but smiles and stories of his misfortunes, she is a great fool indeed. If being romantic made you blind to your own interest, Charlotte wanted no part of it.

Outside the house, Bingley and Jane engaged in desultory conversation and slowly made their way to the little copse just beyond the garden. They arrived after several minutes and stood still, regarding each other anxiously. Jane was too nervous to speak, but her delight shone in her eyes. Bingley was trying to remember the speech he had prepared, but now that the moment had come, he abandoned it.

"Miss Bennet, will you sit with me a moment?"

Jane seated herself on the bench and turned to face him, expecting him to sit next to her. Instead, he knelt down and reached into his pocket. He looked up at her with an amused expression which she thought made him look even more handsome. "When I imagined this moment, and I've done so many times, I never considered how cold my knee would feel on the ground like this." She laughed and covered her mouth with one hand. Bingley took her free hand in his. "Miss Bennet, may I call you Jane?" She nodded. His look became serious. "Jane, I have never met anyone like you. You are an angel, truly you are. Your beauty, your sweetness, your generous ways, your well-informed mind...forgive me, I am not being very romantic, am I? I have never done this before and I never expect to do it again. Jane, I love you with all my heart, and if you can return that love, I ask you to consent to be my wife."

Jane's eyes brimmed with tears. She clasped Bingley's hand with both of hers. "Charles, I do love you. You are quite romantic enough for me." She laughed and cried together. "Yes, I will be your wife." Bingley placed the ring on her finger and brushed away her tears. He rose and sat next to her on the bench, held her face gently in his hands, and kissed her soundly.

Chapter Seven

Darcy and Elizabeth walked in silence for the first few moments. He was thinking of how to begin, and she was wondering how long this good mood of his would last. She noticed that Bingley and Jane were moving at a slow pace and she supposed Darcy would find this additional time with her wearisome, though he had suggested it himself. She thought to put him out of his misery. "Mr. Darcy," she said as she drew her hand away from his arm, "you need not escort me for the duration of our walk. I believe you have paid more than adequate attention today to an obscure country gentleman's daughter." She looked at him with a saucy grin in that teasing way to which he had become accustomed. This time, however, her remarks pained rather than diverted him, and he felt the loss of her touch. He wanted to take her hand and place it on his arm again. He replied, "Truly, Miss Bennet, it has been my very great pleasure to be in your company today." Their eyes met and for once Elizabeth wondered whether Darcy looked at her with disdain or with another sentiment entirely. She nearly stumbled.

Darcy could not count on Bingley remaining outside for an hour in December even for the pleasure of time alone with his intended, so he decided to come to the point. Turning to face her again, he said, "Miss Bennet, I fear we did not part on the best of terms last week. Indeed, I believe we have not been on the best of terms throughout our acquaintance, and I accept full blame. Please allow me to apologize for any thing I have said...any way in which I have offended you in the past." He paused before adding, "I am not at my best in a ballroom."

Elizabeth could not miss this reference to his comments at the Meryton assembly. Her face showed all the wonder she felt at his ability to form an apology with those lips, and such a gracious one at that. Not at his best in a ballroom? She had never before considered that he might be uncomfortable in a roomful of strangers, having to hear his name and fortune bandied about by all the mothers and daughters, no doubt. She quietly replied, "Apology accepted, sir." Perhaps he is only being civil to me in light of Bingley's and Jane's eventual marriage. Still, that would not require such an apology as this.

The gentleman continued. "There is another topic I would like to discuss if I may. Shall we continue our walk or stop here?" He indicated a stone bench a few feet away, in view of the house.

"What is it you wish to talk about, Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth asked, intrigued.

"Mr. Wickham."

Elizabeth did not expect him ever to introduce Wickham's name in conversation, certainly not alone with her. Her sentiments, from surprise to anger to curiosity to concern, registered on her face in quick succession. She sat down upon the bench, and not knowing which way to look, finally focused on her hands in her lap.

Darcy remained standing as he addressed Elizabeth. "For you to mention him during our dance, I must conclude that either you were very curious or he has said some unkind things about me. Whatever the case, I feel it necessary to answer the issue you raised of how he 'lost my friendship.' For we were indeed friends, almost like brothers, for many years. He is the son of my father's steward, and my father thought the world of both men. As we grew, I could not be deceived as to Wickham's true nature, but my father always saw his best side and continued to love him as a son. He paid for his education and included him in his will, even recommending that I assist him in his career and grant him a valuable living if he took orders. Wickham received one thousand pounds when my father died more than four years ago, but he came to me asking for more when his own father passed away soon afterward. He assured me he would not be taking orders. He had no interest in the living, then or in future. He wanted to study law, and he signed away all claims to assistance in the church in exchange for three thousand pounds."

"Three thousand pounds! That was very generous of you," Elizabeth could not help saying, suppressing a sense of alarm at how different Darcy's version of events might prove from what she had already heard. She did not want to believe it, but neither could she imagine Mr. Darcy concocting such a tale.

Darcy raised an eyebrow. "Wickham certainly did not think so, for when the living became vacant two years later, he demanded it repeatedly. Apparently he had lost or spent most of his four thousand pounds and had given up studying the law, that is, if he ever undertook it in the first place." Darcy turned away to get control of his anger. After a moment, he continued. He wanted her to know it all. "He also was heavily in debt, which did not surprise me. Unfortunately for him, by then I had grown weary of discharging his debts and making reparation for his...indiscretions. I refused to give in, and finally the requests stopped. I thought I was free of him. How wrong I was!"

Mr. Bennet watched from his library window as the scene unfolded in the garden. He was more alert than usual, perhaps due to the expectation that soon he would be giving his eldest child away in marriage. He could not be happier for Jane. He reckoned that she, who could bear almost anything, would have nothing worse to put up with than two snobs for sisters-in-law and the dubious fortune of living only three miles away from her mother. Her husband would be a most pleasant fellow indeed, and her circumstances admirable. But a different lot entirely had fallen to Elizabeth. She was a strong young woman, but to be importuned by the two men in all of England whose society she least desired must wear on her. Mr. Collins had quit Hertfordshire just the day before, and now here was Mr. Darcy back from London, all courtesy and attention, hardly letting Lizzy out of his sight. He could not guess their current topic of conversation, but his daughter looked very uncomfortable. Neither of the two seemed to recall their duty as chaperones, but that did not signify. He looked at his watch before turning away from the window. He would give them a full half-hour, and then he would go out and relieve his favorite daughter of her burdensome company.

When Darcy began his account, Elizabeth had doubted he could say anything to acquit himself of cruelty toward his former friend, but his explanation seemed wholly reasonable. He was unaware of what Wickham had told her. He was simply responding to her comment at the ball, unlike Wickham, who had volunteered his information. Wasn't it only fair to let Darcy have his say as well? She wondered, though, that he should go through the trouble to explain this to her. Why should he want to clear himself in her eyes? Apparently Jane was right - there was more to the story, only Wickham's part in the business was sounding less and less satisfactory.

Elizabeth had heard enough to understand that she had judged Mr. Darcy too quickly and too harshly. She hastened to communicate this, for Darcy was pacing and looked ready to resume the narrative at any moment. With no small amount of embarrassment, she stood and said to him, "I thank you, Mr. Darcy, for relating the particulars to me. You have answered any question I might have. I see that I have misjudged the situation. You need trouble yourself no further." She was visibly flustered now.

"Elizabeth!" Darcy closed the gap between them. Her obvious discomfort distressed him, and he had whispered her name before he was aware of it. He was about to brush her cheek with his fingers when he caught himself. His outstretched arm fell quickly to his side. Neither Darcy nor Elizabeth could look at the other just yet. Darcy swallowed hard. "Pardon me. Miss Bennet, I am sorry to cause you any uneasiness, but there is more I would tell you. Please bear with me a little longer." He stepped back and glanced at her.

Elizabeth needed no further proof, but nodded her consent.

"My sister Georgiana was in Ramsgate last summer. When she had been there some weeks, I surprised her with a visit. What I found shocked me deeply. In that short time she had been persuaded to elope with our old family friend. They were to be off to Scotland in a day or two. She was not yet sixteen! When Georgiana saw me, she could not keep her secret, thank God! She thought I would be delighted to hear it. She saw only good in Wickham; she did not know what sort of man he was. He wanted her fortune of 30,000 pounds, of course. It turned out that her companion at the time, Mrs. Younge, knew Wickham, and it was with that woman's assistance that he had imposed upon my sister. When he realized his plan was thwarted, he left the area immediately. You were there when I saw him next, not five months later, on the road in Meryton. He looked quite cheerful, not at all like a man so recently disappointed in love." He practically spat this last statement. Darcy's expression held all the pain of betrayal that had been lacking in Wickham's countenance during the latter's ready account of his misfortunes.

Elizabeth's face paled at hearing this most serious allegation against her favorite officer. No, she thought, not at all, recalling his charming smiles and pleasant conversation when Bingley and Darcy came upon them that day, and his particular attention to herself the following evening. She could not credit that a man so close to marrying another would be flirting with her and welcoming the attentions of ladies throughout the neighborhood in a matter of months. "She is nothing to me now." She recalled Wickham's cold words regarding Miss Darcy, his description of her as very proud, and all the while the poor girl was suffering heartbreak at his hands. Had Darcy not been standing there in front of her, she would have broken down in tears of mortification. There was no question of the veracity of this man's words. From what she knew of Darcy, he leaned toward being too honest. She had never seen evidence of him being deceitful or immoral. Bingley had vouched for his character at the ball. And Darcy always spoke fondly of his sister. He would not fabricate such a tale about her. The man with the more damaging story to tell had done so at great pain to himself, and only after practically being accused to his face. Elizabeth was thoroughly ashamed of herself for being taken in by Wickham, for giving so much weight to the words of a complete stranger. She recalled that Wickham himself said he would not disgrace the Darcy name out of respect for his godfather, yet had he not done just that in telling his story to her? And he had not even been able to face Darcy at the Netherfield ball, though he had insisted he was not afraid of him.

Darcy watched Elizabeth intently as she absorbed his information. It was impossible for him to be comfortable, but he felt a sense of relief that he had unburdened himself to her. Perhaps she would reconsider her opinion of him in light of everything he had shared. He added a final remark. "Miss Bennet, I must ask that you keep the particulars regarding my sister as much as possible to yourself, but I thought it important for you to have this knowledge at your disposal. Wickham has such pleasing manners that young ladies see no reason to question the honor of his intentions."

Elizabeth heard both the warning and the pardon in his words. It was amazing that he should not hold anything against her. She had to respond to such generosity. "Mr. Darcy, after hearing all this, I am surprised that you should want to speak to me at all! I must have offended you terribly by mentioning his name to you last week. I had no idea it could have so many painful associations. Please accept my apologies." She looked in awe at this man before her.

In the distance they could see Jane and Bingley returning. Darcy smiled broadly. "It seems we shall have a happier subject to discuss very shortly," he told her. Elizabeth was still too overcome to spare much thought for her sister and her lover. Darcy offered his arm to her. She was glad of his support as they walked toward the other couple. "Miss Bennet," he said with feeling, "I thank you sincerely for your patience with me today. The last half hour had its difficult moments, but other than any pain it gave you, I would not change it for the world. It was more than I could wish for." He placed his hand over hers for a moment and pressed it lightly.

Elizabeth felt his closeness acutely. This, along with the day's revelations, threatened to overwhelm her. She was saved from making a fool of herself and bringing on unwelcome questions from her companions, however, by her sister's actions as the couples neared one another. Jane, her face radiant, broke away from Bingley and rushed to embrace her sister. Darcy took the opportunity to congratulate his friend. Elizabeth was grateful for the timing of the others' appearance for more than one reason: it put a little space between herself and the man who had so profoundly affected her, and it allowed her tears of anguish to mingle with those of joy for her sister's well-deserved happiness.

When the foursome returned to the house, Jane informed her mother while Mr. Bingley sought an interview with Mr. Bennet. Mrs. Bennet's raptures were heard throughout the house; she would have ridden out in the carriage that moment to spread the news throughout Meryton if luncheon had not been prepared. The younger Bennets' congratulations were a little less noisy. The two men returned from the library, and in a very few minutes all were seated at table. This meal promised to be everything breakfast that morning was not.

"My dear, she will have to stay with us. She has no other option."

"Hmm. I do not see that. Why can she not return to her brother's house?"

"I cannot go into the particulars. It is a rather sensitive matter. Let me just say that, assuming Charles goes through with his plans, the future Mrs. Bingley may not be so kindly disposed toward Caroline presently, and I fear the situation may worsen before the week is out. We simply cannot assume my sister will be welcome at Netherfield."

Mr. Hurst could believe that his sister-in-law had finally gone too far. She must have written the Bennet girl; how else could Caroline cause such trouble in Hertfordshire from her position here in London?

Hurst's protest, though sincere, was merely a formality. He knew he would have no peace if he refused. Besides, Caroline truly must be in a pitiable state if she had said or done something Bingley would not forgive. He and Louisa already spent more than half the year in Caroline's company. What difference would a few more months make?

There was no point in prolonging the inevitable. "I still do not understand why it must be so, but I will leave it to you to sort out, Louisa."

Mrs. Hurst's relief was visible as she thanked her husband. He grunted in reply.

Chapter Eight

During luncheon, Mr. Bennet decided to take a step toward solving the day's riddle. The two principals were conveniently seated to his right and left. As Darcy seemed to hold the key to it all, he began with the gentleman. "Mr. Darcy, I hope it was not too burdensome a task providing chaperonage for our happy couple." He grinned, nodding in the direction of Bingley and Jane, who were at the other end of the table on either side of Mrs. Bennet. Returning his attention to Darcy, he asked, "Did my daughter keep you suitably entertained?" He would swear that he saw the young man blush.

Darcy answered composedly, "Miss Elizabeth was very pleasant company, I assure you. I cannot hope, however, that the same can be said of her companion. I selfishly distracted her from our duty in order to have some conversation. I am afraid I sorely tried her patience and good humor, and must beg her forgiveness." He said this last part with a tender glance at her.

Mr. Bennet was intrigued, and recalling his daughter's discomfort earlier, he persisted. "Well, Lizzy, what is your opinion? Was the conversation as tiresome as Mr. Darcy claims? Is the young man to be forgiven?" He regarded her closely.

His daughter looked rather ashamed and blushed crimson as she addressed her father. "There is nothing to forgive, Papa. Mr. Darcy is being very kind. The conversation was...enlightening. I can find no fault with my company today." Elizabeth could only look down at her plate.

On an ordinary day, Mr. Bennet would have been satisfied to tease her further on the subject, or just to smile in amusement. Today he grew more thoughtful and mulled over the evidence as he ate. He looked at his eldest daughter and her fiancé. Jane's and Bingley's courtship had been so straightforward, Jane's illness at Netherfield notwithstanding: they met, they danced, they talked, they fell in love, he proposed, she accepted. Now why can't my Lizzy have it as simple as that? He looked at his daughter who seemingly had managed to make Collins, Wickham, and now Darcy, if his eyes and ears were to be trusted, members of the same club. He thought it wise to pay closer attention to the interest Elizabeth inspired in such different men. Granted, Collins was no longer an object. Thankfully, he had gone in search of easier prey. Wickham certainly was interested, but Mr. Bennet could not tell to what end. The man was winsome, so easy to like. But with limited prospects on his part and hardly and dowry on Elizabeth's, he could not have any serious intentions regarding her. Why, then, would he single her out and take her into his confidence? Elizabeth had shared with him the particulars of the man's hardships after his visit a few days before.

And here, sitting to his left, was the most inconceivable yet the most promising prospect of all. Darcy, who refused to acknowledge his daughter's beauty at the beginning of their acquaintance, who had inspired in her a most violent dislike with his proud manner, who was so far above her in wealth and position that he surely must consider her beneath his notice, sat complacently across from her, causing her to blush in response to his stolen glances. Here was a man with no connection to their family, no need to gain friends by inviting their sympathy, no reason to be where he did not want to be. It was as if he had come in this morning and decided to be content here with Lizzy, and he was, just like that. Perhaps they worked out their differences in the garden. He watched the two narrowly while maintaining light conversation with Darcy about his estate in Derbyshire. After a few minutes, Mr. Bennet's eyes widened a moment and nearly misted over at the thought that occurred to him. He could not fathom it, but it did appear that he could be just as close to losing his Lizzy as he was to losing Jane. He had not even seen it coming.

Following lunch, the gentlemen joined Mr. Bennet in his library. The small party dispersed several minutes later when the host was called away by a servant to attend to a pressing matter. Bingley took the opportunity to seek out Jane's company.

Darcy stayed behind and perused the bookshelves. The day had exceeded his expectations, and it was not yet over. Elizabeth has listened to him without arguing, had accepted his escort more than once, and had sat through an entire meal across from him without making a single derisive comment at his expense. He wondered how long it would last and whether they would be friends once she was over the shock and began behaving more like herself. Friends? Ha! But one must start somewhere. He might manage to get still more time with her before returning to Netherfield. Charles would not wish to leave Miss Bennet for some hours yet; that would give him an opportunity, surely. If nothing materialized, he could steal a moment when they parted and ask permission to call on her again tomorrow.

Elizabeth had gone to her room for some minutes of solitary reflection after the meal. She had been able to calm herself during lunch since she had not been required to contribute much to the conversation. Her mother and younger sisters had talked cheerfully with the newly engaged couple and with each other. At her end of the table Mr. Darcy and her father had been rather quiet in comparison. Still, she had found it impossible to sort out her feelings while sitting across from the gentleman. She certainly didn't hate him or even dislike him anymore. After all, he had apologized for or explained away many of the reasons she had for thinking ill of him, and his behavior today made up for the rest. The problem was that she didn't know what she felt. She thought that it would be logical to exchange opinions of Darcy and Wickham, but that wasn't quite satisfactory. She did not hate Wickham, she just thought he was a pitiful excuse for a man and she was angry at him for his deceitful words to her and his scandalous behavior to Miss Darcy. She had not forgotten Mr. Darcy's mention of "indiscretions," and she wondered how many other young ladies had been injured by Wickham.

As for Darcy, she could not say that he had merely been elevated to Wickham's former position in her esteem. She had been indulging in an infatuation with the latter, the strength of which could not compare with what she felt for the former. She now saw that Mr. Wickham's attractiveness, while considerable, had increased tremendously because of what he had related of Mr. Darcy. Had it been any other man who had purportedly wronged him, she could not say that her indignation would have been as strong as it was. She had always reacted to Darcy with intensity. Now was no different. Today his dreaded pride was nowhere in sight. He actively sought her company and apparently desired her friendship. The idea of it made her tingle with anticipation.

How she should behave toward Mr. Darcy now was an issue she wanted to resolve before returning downstairs. She had been drawn to him even while his manners disgusted her. She had not been afraid of him, not after his insult, not during their arguments. She realized now that she always had a respect for his mind; he was clearly intelligent and well educated. And while she often had not agreed with the substance of his convictions, she had admired his strong defense of them. It was clear he felt deeply. She had been amused at his efforts to evade Miss Bingley's oppressive attentions and the restraint he showed, no doubt out of respect for his friend. Today his initiative, combined with his unexpected tenderness and concern for her welfare, had impressed her. She found him hard to ignore. Well, he is a stunning creature. And now I know his goodness is not restricted to his looks. She pictured his thick, dark hair, his stately profile, his beautifully expressive eyes, so deep brown they looked almost black. She had seen those eyes focused on her so many times and had read contempt in them. Had he changed, or had she merely been wrong? Was Charlotte right after all? He did not look at me with contempt as we walked to church, or in the garden, or as we ate together. She thought of his chin. Not so impeccably shaven today. She wondered what it would be like to stroke it, to touch his cheek as he had tried to touch hers earlier. I had forgotten about that. He said my name! She thought of the mouth that poured forth such difficult and utterly remarkable words, that broke into such smiles as she had never seen on his face before, smiles directed at her. She folded her arms around herself. Those lips...The thought caused a delightfully uncomfortable sensation in the pit of her stomach. Can he want more than my friendship? It is not possible! What of Miss de Bourgh? She recalled the source of this piece of information and found herself hoping fervently that it was just such another of Wickham's falsehoods. There is a great chance of that being the case. And, obviously, he cannot be actually engaged. Surely Miss Bingley would not seek his attention so aggressively if there is a formal agreement in place. She felt relieved, then ashamed for feeling so. But why do I care? Oh, how can I be so unreasonable? I cannot possibly hate a man in the morning and love him by the afternoon! What has happened to me?

She peered into her glass, but the young woman staring back at her gave her no answers. I look like the same Elizabeth. Oh, if I could only talk to Jane! But her mind is full of Mr. Bingley, as it should be. I am so happy for her! Perhaps my father is at leisure. He can talk some sense into me, or at least distract me from my musings!

Chapter Nine

Elizabeth decided she would further her acquaintance with Mr. Darcy and see what would come of it, but first she would talk to her father. She had gained the first floor when she noticed that the library door was ajar. Seeing that Mr. Bennet was not at his desk, she entered and pushed the door closed. She walked to the far corner of the room to wait for her father and happened upon a much younger man instead.

"Mr. Darcy!"

"Miss Bennet!" Darcy could not believe his good fortune.

Elizabeth swallowed her surprise and said, "I see my father has left you on your own. I can guess where Mr. Bingley has gone, however." She smiled knowingly at him.

"The servant just came for Mr. Bennet a moment ago. I hope I am not inconveniencing anyone by remaining here."

"Not at all, sir. I hope you are enjoying our library, though I imagine it is nothing to the one at Pemberley."

"On the contrary, Miss Bennet," he replied, running his finger down the binding of one of the volumes. "Your father has quite an interesting and varied collection. I suppose you must have spent many a pleasant afternoon here as a child." He looked toward the window seat as he spoke.

"Yes I have, and as an adult as well. After all, one must improve one's mind by extensive reading if one truly wishes to be an accomplished woman."

He could not help chuckling at her reference to one of their conversations at Netherfield. "Yes, I did say that, did I not? And I seem to recall that you were reading a book at the time, clearly the inspiration for that particular comment."

How at home he looks here, in this room. Elizabeth had been admiring his dimples, which made him look even more attractive, if possible. The import of his remark hit her suddenly and she could not stop blushing. Is he teasing me? What can he mean?

Darcy returned to a more neutral subject. "Georgiana and I have spent many evenings after dinner reading together at Pemberley. We began the practice a few years ago. Our home seemed so empty with just the two of us, and spending time with our books helped to dispel the melancholy atmosphere that had come over the place."

Elizabeth considered what it might be like to be orphaned and have your family party reduced to just two members. She could not imagine it, though she could sympathize. And with all that happened over the summer, he must be loath to leave his sister at any time. "Miss Darcy must have been sorry to part with you again so soon."

"Georgiana did not begrudge me this trip into Hertfordshire. I didn't expect to leave her at first, but she knows that coming back here was something I had to do. Indeed, I had no choice."

"No choice! But why?" The words slipped out. Surely he had no obligation to be here. "Pray excuse me, Mr. Darcy. I suppose your extraordinary openness today has spoiled me, and as we have only just become friends," she gave him a questioning glance and her lips turned up in a smile, a smile which he returned, "I should not like to risk such a...tender accord as ours with my impertinent questions."

Tender, indeed. "I do not consider your question impertinent at all, and I will answer it." Darcy considered his response. "There were two reasons. One was to offer my support to Bingley. His sisters refused theirs, as I am sure you are aware, from your mention of Miss Bingley's letter this morning." Darcy hesitated to tell her the rest, but he thought it best to make a clean breast of it. He motioned to the window seat and they sat down together, for the moment ignoring the impropriety of their situation. He lowered his eyes and continued in a hushed voice. "I am ashamed to say I was sympathetic to their cause for a time, but primarily because I had not discerned that your sister loved my friend." He saw Elizabeth's expression change to one of anger, and he held up his hand to forestall an interruption. "I have never seen Bingley so deeply in love. Your sister is an excellent young lady and she appeared all that is amiable, but she was not obvious in her affection. Forgive me, but I was concerned that she might feel pressured to accept him without love. You cannot know how glad I was to see the truth in her face when we arrived this morning. I don't know when I've been so happy to be wrong."

Darcy thought that Elizabeth looked too irritated to consider the merits of his observations, so he continued quickly. His expression lightened. "I am sorry that Miss Bennet suffered during Bingley's absence. I did not know until today that Miss Bingley had written to her; we have not spoken since the evening we all arrived in town, and she mentioned no letter to me. Your sister's happiness was not in any danger, however. Bingley knew what he was about. He was certain that she returned his affections. Nothing could sway him." His respect for Bingley was clear as he spoke. His voice took on a more natural tone but retained its softness. "Miss Bennet, I hope you are not offended by my frankness."

Elizabeth shook her head and smiled a wry smile. "No, Mr. Darcy, I am not, but if there is one thing I have learned today, it is that I would rather risk being offended and hear the truth." So his pride and arrogance had not completely deserted him, they had been overcome by his friend's determination. He appeared to accept his defeat with grace, even pleasure. "You are a good friend to Mr. Bingley, to devote such time to his concerns, even while you must desire to be with Miss Darcy. No wonder you write her such long letters, as a certain lady of our acquaintance once observed." As she alluded to Miss Bingley's comment, she smiled and he rolled his eyes, which made her laugh. Why was he being so unguarded with her? He appeared to have abandoned his reserve where she was concerned. She considered his words for a moment. "You said there were two reasons you came back." She regarded him earnestly as she said this, and when he returned her gaze she thought she read his answer there as clearly as if he had said the words aloud. Her breath caught in her throat and she could not look away.

Darcy was encouraged, but he could not be secure. True, Elizabeth was actually sitting here engaging him in conversation. Her manner seemed different: she seemed more at ease with him, less critical. Yet she might be comfortable simply because she was in her own home. In the past he had taken her playful banter for more than it was. He could not afford to make any assumptions. Darcy was not one to waste an opportunity, but this was a novel experience for him, one upon which his happiness depended. He proceeded cautiously. "I had been in a quandary about something that seemed at odds with my duty to my family, my estate, and my position in society. In London, I realized how ridiculous this was. If my desire were fulfilled, it would violate no principle, defy no duty; it could only do a great deal of good to me and those closest to me. There would be a few dissenting voices, some louder than others, but none that would signify." Here he paused. "Unfortunately, knowing what you want and having the ability to procure it are two very different things." Darcy looked at her with longing in his eyes. Can you not know, Elizabeth? Must I say it? He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. It is only what I deserve for behaving so abominably toward you.

Darcy looked and sounded so serious. Elizabeth had begun playing with a fold in her skirt to distract her from the smoldering look in his eyes. She nervously attempted to lighten the tone of their conversation. "Come now, sir. When has the great Mr. Darcy ever been truly unable to get what he wants?"

Darcy was in no mood for mockery. "When the woman I adore hates the very sight of me." He had not meant to say it aloud, but his control was slipping in the presence of his lady. He noticed that Elizabeth had stopped her movements. Well, I cannot take it back now. I must go forward with this. He placed his hand over hers, no longer able to be this close and not touch her. He heard her gasp and waited for her to withdraw her hand, but she did not.

Elizabeth knew she should protest but she had no desire to do so. Whatever she was feeling, it was more than she had felt for any other man at any time, and it unsettled her. He is holding my hand! And here we are, shut in this room together. What would my father say if he found us like this? She was having difficulty focusing on his words with his thumb moving slowly, hypnotically across the back of her hand.

Darcy was speaking again, his voice tinged with sadness. "When I quitted Hertfordshire - was it only three days ago? It seems longer, my suffering was acute - I was unaware of what a mess I'd made of things. I had been so blind!" He stroked each of her fingers individually. "When I realized the truth, I knew that unless I could make amends, nothing would be right. I had to come back. I had to try, little hope as there was for success." He knew he was rambling. He studied her face; she was glancing about. There were so many things he wanted to say to her. Oh Elizabeth, my lips could communicate all of this to you in a much more satisfying way. Her proximity to him made the temptation unbearable. He released her hand and stood up. He had just seen her look toward the door a second time; he could not ruin his chances now.

"Miss Bennet," he apologized, "I am sorry; I know I am not making sense. It seems I am forever imposing on you; first with my thoughtless words and faulty manners, lately with my lengthy narratives and..." He squeezed his eyes shut and lowered his head. "...my officious attempts at interfering in the lives of others," he looked up at her, clearly frustrated, before continuing, "and now with my selfish desire to be near you. I have no excuse to offer. I cannot have you compromised. It will not do! I will leave you now and join the others. Surely we will be missed by now." Darcy bowed solemnly and reluctantly walked toward the door.

Elizabeth could not believe her ears. She was quite aware of the impropriety of remaining where she was. Still, she could not let him leave in such a dejected state. She knew that things had altered, that he had altered, or she had. He had made every effort to reach out to her. She could not do less. She quickly got to her feet and caught up with him.

Touching his arm tentatively, she said, "Please, Mr. Darcy, do not think that I wish you to go." He turned around and looked at her, incredulous, but said nothing. She clarified for him. "I realize that we must, but do not think that I wish it." She cast her eyes down. She hoped he would not think her too forward. She could not bear to lose his good opinion now that she believed she had it.

Elizabeth did not see the relief and utter joy on the young man's face, but she did feel his hand take hers and raise it to his lips.

"Miss Bennet," Darcy said softly, kissing her fingers, then turning her palm upward and kissing the inside of her wrist. He gazed at her, willing her to lift her eyes, but she would not. He let go of her hand and touched her chin, guiding it until she could look at him properly.

Elizabeth was overcome with emotion. Her hand tingled as he held it, kissed it; her chin felt hot where his finger rested under it. Eyes wide, her lips parted and she uttered almost without knowing, "How can you have such power over me?"

Darcy cupped her face in his hands and drank in the sight of her. "It is you who have power over me, Elizabeth," he whispered into her mouth. He leaned in and kissed her lips gently, gratefully. After this brief indulgence he broke away and rested his cheek against her temple, closing his eyes, amazed that he was not dreaming. "I cannot take anything more from you. You have been so generous with me already." He held her like that for a moment and then released her; it would be highly imprudent to stay any longer. "Let us return to your family before someone comes in search of us." He went to the door and opened it.

Elizabeth was in a daze. She could not see him taking such liberties if he had no intentions toward her, not after all that had passed between them today. She could still feel his warmth on her mouth and her cheeks as she exited the room ahead of him.

Chapter Ten

Posted on Monday, 24 May 2004, at 2:28 a.m.

Darcy and Elizabeth followed the sound of animated conversation to the sitting room, where Mrs. Bennet and Jane were discussing possible wedding dates. Jane preferred to wait until early February, but her mother was sure they could arrange to hold the ceremony before the end of the year. Mr. Bingley saw many advantages to a quick wedding; nevertheless he sided with his fiancée and practicality. Lydia asked Mr. Bingley if he would hold another ball in honor of his engagement, and her future brother-in-law admitted it to be a marvelous idea. Mary and Kitty were discussing the use of the pianoforte and library at Netherfield and a possible season or two in town, respectively, with Jane or Bingley, whenever either had a moment to attend to them.

Elizabeth smiled brightly at Jane, listened for a minute and then sat apart from the group. Darcy took up his post at a window to collect himself. Bingley had seen the two of them enter the room, but he could not tell from their faces whether things between them were better or worse. He excused himself and walked over to Darcy.

"Darce, we've been invited to stay for dinner. Do you mind? I should like to very much."

"Not at all. I would be pleased to stay. You know I'm at your disposal, Bingley."

Bingley dropped his voice to a whisper. "Did you sort out matters to your satisfaction?"

Darcy frowned. "Whether I have done so or whether I have ruined my chances completely, I cannot tell. Perhaps I will know before dinner is over." She did say she would rather risk being offended and know the truth. Well, she knows the truth of my feelings now, offended or not.

Bingley patted his friend's shoulder, offered him an optimistic grin, and returned to his fiancée's side.

At length, Mr. Bennet's business was finished and he returned to company. He walked in and sat down in a chair near Lizzy. "Well, my dear, what have I missed?" He noticed her heightened color at this question and looked over at the gentleman who seemed obsessed with the view of the outdoors. "Mr. Darcy, please join us," he offered, motioning to the sofa where Lizzy sat. Mr. Bennet generally stayed out of his children's affairs, but he was not used to seeing Elizabeth so completely disconcerted as she seemed today in the presence of this gentleman.

Darcy knew he could not have remained at the window until dinner, so he sat down with the father and daughter. He understood that if he reverted to his usual silence, he may lose what ground he had gained today. Avoiding Elizabeth's eyes and turning to his host, he said, "Mr. Bennet, you have a very fine library. I should like the opportunity to have a closer look at your collection. It seems you have taken advantage of every available shelf; quite a contrast to my friend Bingley." He smiled at this. "Now that he is to marry into your family, perhaps he will follow your example. I imagine his wife may help him greatly in that regard. Her sister, Miss Elizabeth," and here he risked a glance at the object of his affections and hopes, "certainly reads extensively. I could not envision her in a home that did not have an abundance of books." His eyes lingered on her for a few moments.

Mr. Bennet was certain now that Mr. Bingley wasn't the only gentleman present who entertained thoughts of marrying into his family. "Mr. Darcy, you are quite welcome to take a look around the library again before you leave this evening. Do let me know if you would like to borrow a few volumes to make up for the lack of reading material at your current residence."

Darcy smiled. "Thank you, sir. That is very kind of you."

"Why do we not continue this conversation there?" Mr. Bennet asked. "Lizzy, come along with us, my dear." Darcy heartily agreed, but glanced apprehensively at Elizabeth. He was sure that he and Mr. Bennet understood each other. He excused himself for a brief moment to acknowledge Mrs. Bennet's dinner invitation and to thank her for it, throwing in a compliment on the previous meal for good measure. Mrs. Bennet was surprised and grateful, thanked him profusely for his compliment, and returned to voicing her plans to visit several of the London warehouses in the coming weeks.

Elizabeth reluctantly rose from her seat. How could Darcy refer so pointedly to the library, and talk about it with such ease? She had to return to that room eventually, but she had not expected to do so this soon, nor in the company of the man who inspired this profusion of sensations in her. Perhaps with her father there, she would be able to remain composed enough to come to some conclusion about what she wanted from Mr. Darcy. She would have a long talk with Jane later tonight; she could afford to miss out on the discussion of wedding finery in which the ladies were engaged, with Bingley politely listening in.

To the library, therefore, they were to go.

In the library, Mr. Bennet introduced a new topic. He thought it best to try to get to know Darcy, and he perceived that his daughter might appreciate his efforts as well. "Have you and Mr. Bingley known each other very long?"

"We have been very good friends these three or four years, though we've been acquainted somewhat longer."

"Have you any close friends that you've left behind in town or in Derbyshire?"

"I have a few associates from my days at Cambridge. Other than that, I have my family. My sister and I are very close, and I see my cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam a few times a year, whenever his regiment can spare him."

"Elizabeth and Miss Lucas have been friends since childhood, and of course she and Jane are thick as thieves." Mr. Bennet grinned at his daughter. "You may have heard that Miss Lucas is to marry my cousin Mr. Collins. Your aunt is his patroness, I believe."

Darcy was surprised that Collins had transferred his affections so easily, especially since he himself could not stop thinking of Elizabeth. "Yes, my aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. I see her and my cousin Anne once a year at Easter."

"Not more often? I am surprised. I understood from more than one source that you have a particular relationship to that family."

Darcy colored more from irritation than anything else. "I am not closer to her or her daughter than I am to any others of my extended family. I cannot afford to visit more than once a year." Mr. Bennet responded to this with a raised eyebrow. Darcy explained. I can lose nothing by telling them; they already have heard the rumors. "Mr. Bennet, I will be frank: my aunt wishes to be my mother as well, but as I have no desire to be her son, nor the slightest indication that my cousin desires the alliance, I do not want to provide my aunt with anything that may be misconstrued as encouragement in that regard. Visiting more often might be considered as such." Both Darcy and Mr. Bennet watched to see how Elizabeth took this news, but she turned her face away.

Darcy ventured, "I assume that one of your sources of information is your cousin." To this Mr. Bennet nodded. "May I ask the identity of the other source?"

"Elizabeth gave me to understand that Mr. Wickham has heard a similar rumor which he imparted to her."

Darcy's expression was unreadable. "I thought as much. Mr. Wickham was my god-brother and is acquainted with several members of my family."

Mr. Bennet seized the opportunity. "Was your god-brother? Do you no longer consider him so?"

"No, sir, we no longer associate. We have grown into very different people, and events that have occurred since my father's death have been injurious to our friendship. Your daughter is aware of my history with Mr. Wickham. I divulged it to her today in response to some concerns she raised to me during the ball last Tuesday."

"Is this the case, Lizzy?"

"Yes, Papa; it seems that Mr. Wickham's account was misleading at best." She scowled. "Malicious slander at worst," she added under her breath, but her father heard her.

"That is a far cry from your opinion on the matter just a few days ago. What has changed?"

"Everything! Nothing! Oh!" Elizabeth blushed furiously and looked at Darcy, at the window seat, and finally at her skirts. She moved unconsciously to the spot where he had kissed her and put her hands to her lips.

Mr. Bennet had had enough. He trusted his daughter's judgment; he knew she would not swing wildly between two opinions simply for the sake of doing so, or blindly trade one man's tale for another. She must have heard something to convince her that Darcy was innocent of Wickham's charges. He could see that she needed some guidance. Jane was not available, Mrs. Gardiner was too far away, and Mrs. Bennet would, unfortunately, be of no assistance in this matter. He would have to step in. "Mr. Darcy, would you like to make yourself comfortable there by the window? I want to have a word with Lizzy." The young man looked ready to excuse himself from their company so he forestalled him. "No, no. There is no need for you to leave. Actually, I would greatly appreciate it if you could spare some minutes for conversation when we're done here. We will be but a moment. Lizzy? Come here, my child."

Elizabeth joined her father at the corner opposite the window seat where they would not be overheard. He looked at her sternly at first, but his expression softened as he watched her struggle to regain her composure. "Lizzy," he said with love and concern in his voice, "Is there something you wish to tell me? Is there any way I can help you?"

It was all Elizabeth could do to keep from crying aloud. She knew her father held her in special regard, but he rarely exerted himself in uncomfortable situations. Not only had he noticed her distress, he was taking steps to relieve it. He had come to her rescue when the wrong man asked her to marry him; he was doing so again when she hoped against hope that the right man would. She slowly choked down her tears and said, "Papa, I do not know what has happened to me. I do know that I have greatly wronged Mr. Darcy and I was wrong about him as well. He bears me no ill will, which I find astonishing, but what I feel for him is not exactly gratitude. It is much more. How can this be? How can my feelings have altered so?"

Mr. Bennet put a hand on his daughter's shoulder. He looked at her now and recalled visions of a much younger Lizzy running through the fields behind the house, climbing trees, curling up in his lap with a book in her hand and begging him to read aloud to her. His baby girl had grown up before his eyes, but in some ways she was still very much an innocent. He glanced over at the window. He hoped the man across the room would be good to her. He had better be. "Perhaps, my dear, these feelings were just under the surface, waiting for circumstances to bring them to light. After all, you have never seemed apathetic toward Mr. Darcy. But are you sure you can trust him? I know he has been very pleasant today, but this might be an aberration. Will you be able to get on with such a proud, reserved man?"

"But Papa, he has been very humble, very gentle with me today," Elizabeth said, relaxing a little. "He even apologized for offending me after we first met. And he is not always so reserved." She colored deeply and could not go on. Then she thought of Wickham and decided to tell her father some of what she now knew. "As for Mr. Wickham's story, I have heard more, and I have thought about it more carefully. Mr. Wickham made at least two statements to me that contradicted his own actions, and I wonder that I didn't notice them until today. Also, he asked me some questions about Mr. Darcy - how long he was to be in the neighborhood, what I thought of him - and on hearing my own opinion at the time, he proceeded to tell me his version of events. Mr. Darcy did not offer his view of things until I confronted him at the ball during our dance. He only gave a guarded reply then; he seemed very hesitant to talk about it, though there was much he could have said." Elizabeth's brow crinkled as she said, "I have come to the conclusion, both from my own observation of Mr. Wickham and from Mr. Darcy's account that Mr. Wickham's circumstances are of his own creation, and he would by no means make an ideal clergyman."

Mr. Bennet regarded his daughter fondly. He smiled to himself at how quickly she had seen the reasonableness of whatever Darcy had told her. As he had come to a similar conclusion without the benefit of that man's information, he could not argue with her. He said with a twinkle in his eye, "Now, are you recovered enough to return to your sister and lend your opinion on the virtues of silk over satin?" This elicited a laugh from his daughter. "Go then, Lizzy, and let me have a word with the young man. Do not concern yourself; I'm sure all will turn out well." He kissed her forehead and sent her away.

Darcy stared out the window. He could see the bench where Elizabeth sat and listened to him in the garden. He looked down at the window seat and recalled stroking her hand there. He wished he could hold that hand now. She had looked so conscious a moment ago when her father asked her what had changed. He knew she was thinking of their kiss, how could she not be? He hoped he hadn't destroyed his prospects by his loss of control. He couldn't hear what Elizabeth was saying to her father. At least the gentleman did not seem angry, but you never could tell with Mr. Bennet. He would just have to wait and find out.

Bingley was quite used to hearing Caroline and Louisa go on about the latest fashions or needing to purchase new gowns for this or that ball, but never in his life had he heard such effusions as were coming from Mrs. Bennet. How did the woman find so many particulars to discuss, and what in the world would be left to talk about on the morrow? He was beginning to think he should have gone outside again with Jane, cold knees or no, when Mrs. Bennet finally decided to quit the room and give the engaged couple a little time to themselves. Yet his goal had been accomplished. He looked at his bride-to-be and sighed. Yes, she was worth it. He settled back into his seat and looked from the retreating form of his future mother-in-law into the smiling eyes of Netherfield's future mistress.

Chapter Eleven

"Mr. Darcy."

"Sir?"

"My daughter has had an extraordinary week even without your visit. Yet today she is more discomfited than I have seen her in quite some time. Do you have anything to say that might shed some light on the situation?"

Darcy was expecting a more directed question; something requiring a single word in reply would have been welcome. He was sitting across from Mr. Bennet at his desk. He moved forward in his chair, placed his elbows on his lap and clasped his hands together, resting his chin on them. He remained this way for a few seconds, then sat up and looked directly at his host. "Mr. Bennet, I am sure you have noticed my particular attention to your daughter today."

"One would have to be blind not to see it."

"Yes, well. I have a deep admiration and regard for Miss Elizabeth. I would like your permission to court her."

"You appear to be a little late in asking for that. I take it that you have not come to an understanding yet, then. I suppose not, or you would be asking me a slightly different question."

"I thought it too soon, though if I believed her willing to consent, I could not hesitate."

Mr. Bennet studied the man before him. He was young and handsome. He had wealth, connections, and extensive property. Proud as he was, he also seemed intelligent, responsible, persistent, and morally sound. And he has the good sense to value my Lizzy. He was obviously a thoughtful man, but apparently one who was not afraid to act when the occasion required it. Mr. Bennet could not imagine how he had turned Elizabeth's opinion around so quickly. He had never considered Mr. Darcy to be quite the villain she had claimed he was, but neither did he discount the strength of her feelings. He thought it would have taken her much longer to give up her prejudice against the man. He was disposed to approve of him, but he had to be sure he was making the right choice. Lizzy was only twenty; she had plenty of time to find a husband. But if this man truly was the one for her, he did not want her to miss her chance for happiness.

"Mr. Darcy, I need to know that your attraction to Elizabeth is not some passing inclination. I will not have her hurt. She is very precious to me, and I will not give her to a man, no matter how illustrious, only to have him toy with her and discard her once he loses interest. If you are simply following your friend's example and nothing more..."

Darcy was indignant. He got up and started pacing, trying to rein in his anger, but he could not contain it. "I do not want her for my amusement! I need her! Indeed, I love Elizabeth. I cannot bear to be without her." He covered his face in his hands as he realized what he had said. That was what he wanted to say to the lady herself, but could not for fear of rejection. Now he had lost his temper and called her by her Christian name to her father's face. He was at the man's mercy now. He sat down, chagrined. He had to make him understand. "Forgive me, sir. I know I do not deserve Miss Elizabeth, but that cannot be helped. I devoted considerable thought to this while in London. In truth, I could think of little else. I am not pursuing Miss Elizabeth to avoid my aunt's ambitions. I am not following blindly after Bingley. Nor am I a slave to a superficial desire, though I acknowledge that your daughter is more than lovely enough to inspire such feelings. I have need of her, sir! I have been on my own for some time now. Until I came to Hertfordshire, until I met and observed and matched wits with your brilliant and beautiful daughter, heard her infectious laughter and witnessed her devotion to her sister while she was ill, and marveled at her passion for life...until she began to change me, I had despaired of finding anyone I could ever marry."

Mr. Bennet fought back tears. His heart would break; his little girl would leave him and go to a home of her own. At least he could rest assured that she would be treasured as much, if not more, than Jane would be. "Mr. Darcy," he said in a much softer voice, "I am sorry to question your sincerity. It is just that I needed to know for myself what was ahead for my Lizzy. I give you leave to court her, and permission to marry her once you obtain her consent." He turned aside. "I doubt you will have long to wait."

Mr. Bennet stood. "Now, if you will just remain here, I am almost done." He left the room. Darcy was stunned. Before he could absorb what Mr. Bennet had said to him, Elizabeth walked in and closed the door behind her, this time well aware that she was not alone. When he saw her he blinked twice, unsure if he could trust his eyes.

Elizabeth knew her own heart well enough by the time she finished talking to her father. She had wanted to linger outside the library door before going back to her mother and sisters, but the temptation for eavesdropping was too great. In her absence, Lydia and Kitty had gone upstairs to talk of their dreams of marrying officers someday. Mary was off reading her favorite book of extracts, and her mother had retired to her chamber. She found Jane and Bingley alone in the sitting room and decided not to disturb them. She wandered over to the base of the stairs, very much inclined to sit down on them as she and Jane had often done when they were very young. Soon Longbourn would change. Her dearest sister was to leave it. And I may not be here very long after she is gone, if today has not been some glorious dream.

She was still standing there when her father approached her and whispered in her ear. "Go to him, child." He smiled and turned to hide his tears from Elizabeth, but she had seen them. She gave into an impulse and hugged her father tightly before he got completely away. If he was reconciled to her choice, she was free to pursue her happiness. She walked quickly to the library and stood outside the door a moment before she opened it.

Elizabeth came in quietly and closed the door. Darcy's back was to her. She maneuvered herself between her father's desk and her suitor and turned to face him with a dazzling smile. He was speechless from surprise; it was clear he was not expecting her. He started to rise but she held out her hand to stop him. "No, stay there if you would, sir." She looked him over from the tips of his boots to the curls atop his head. Yes, a stunning creature indeed.

Darcy was spellbound. He was alone with her again! Had Mr. Bennet sent her? He must have. She was too calm for it to be otherwise. Had she heard him through the door as he talked to her father? He was staring at her, saying nothing. What must she think of him? "Miss Bennet..." he began.

"Hush." Elizabeth put a finger to his lips to silence him.

Elizabeth smiled to herself as she observed him in his confusion. She laughed and said, "Mr. Darcy, I fear you have me at a disadvantage."

Feeling distinctly disadvantaged himself in his present situation, Darcy asked his rather fearless companion, "And what might that be?"

She leaned toward him, her fragrance toying with his senses. She spoke so close to his ear that he felt her breath on his neck. "You have called me by my name more than once today, but you have not told me yours." She moved back to look in his eyes.

Darcy swallowed. "Fitzwilliam."

"Fitzwilliam." Elizabeth rolled it around on her tongue. "Hmm. William," she said with a mischievous glint in her eyes, "I should like to continue our earlier conversation. I am sure you recall that you were explaining your second reason for returning to Hertfordshire." Elizabeth leaned back against her father's desk. She was still close enough to touch him. Watching him struggle and squirm was so amusing! He had said she was the one with power over him, and she wanted to test that assertion.

Here was the teasing, maddening Elizabeth whose company Darcy craved, only she was something more...not merely confident, but in command. She was directing now, not simply reacting. How did she know he preferred William? When she had appraised him unabashedly a moment ago, everything above his knees felt hot. He prayed her valuation would be in his favor. "Miss Bennet, I..."

Again Elizabeth interrupted him. "So formal, William? Are we no longer friends, then?" She leaned forward just a bit and touched the back of his hand with her fingertip.

Darcy breathed in sharply. "Elizabeth, you torture me." He tried to focus on her eyes and not on the spot where her pendant rested. As she continued to lean over him this became increasingly difficult.

"Do I?" She smiled. "All you need do is answer my question and grant a small request thereafter, and I shall be done." She left his hand alone in order to play with the lock of hair hanging over his brow and twist it around her finger.

"I cannot think, I cannot talk sense with you touching me that way."

"I wonder that you did not consider such ministrations an impediment to my listening to you earlier. But it is of no importance. Do you have an answer?"

He caught her hand in his. "I came back for you. I love you, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth's heart leaped, but she exerted herself to maintain her teasing manner even in the face of such a declaration. She looked at him warmly and said, "William! That is very sweet of you. However, there is still the matter of my request. I am all but certain of my own affection for you, but it couldn't hurt to have some...confirmation. I am sure you can assist me. You may be aware that earlier today, in this very room, in fact," she glanced briefly at the spot where they had stood then, "a gentleman of my acquaintance paid me...ah, particularly amorous attentions. As I have no other experience against which to measure it, it shall have to serve as the standard. If your own performance can compare favorably, William, I think I shall have the assurance I seek." She leaned back against the desk again and looked straight in his eyes.

Darcy was bewitched. She had just admitted that she had feelings for him and asked him to kiss her again! How could he resist? He slowly rose from his seat and towered over her, placing his palms down on the desk on either side of her. She shivered at his closeness and licked her lower lip in anticipation. Then Darcy proceeded to give Elizabeth all the confirmation a kiss could afford. The lady was convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Epilogue

Dinner was better even than luncheon, in spite of Mrs. Bennet's vulgarity and Mr. Bennet's melancholy. The gentlemen from the neighboring estate wore nearly identical smiles, as did the two eldest Bennet daughters. Everyone but Mr. Bennet looked at Elizabeth and Darcy in wonder as they talked away the evening like old friends. The young men departed for Netherfield soon after the meal and everyone (eventually, as of course Jane and Elizabeth talked long into the night) retired to their chambers with their heads full of the changes that were occurring in their family circle.

The following morning, Bingley and Darcy called upon the ladies of Longbourn again. Darcy sought a moment in private with Elizabeth. They agreed to announce their engagement that day and did so without delay. Thus, only seventy-two hours after Bingley had walked into the library of his house in London, Mr. Darcy was the happiest of men.

Mrs. Bennet, who had been preparing to escort Jane to her sister Philips in order to spread her good news throughout Meryton, had to sit down from the shock. She revived quickly, however, and insisted that Elizabeth accompany them. Both gentlemen bore the news as best they could, and their resignation was rewarded by an invitation to sample one of the finest selections from Mr. Bennet's wine cellar while he regaled them with tales of his daughters' early years.

The residents of Lucas Lodge were among the first to be apprised of their neighbors' happy circumstances. Sir William was genuinely complimentary, Lady Lucas insincerely congratulatory, and Charlotte glad for Jane and relieved that Elizabeth had chosen sensibly after all. However the joy that overflowed from each Bennet bride-to-be was almost too much for Miss Lucas. It made her wonder whether she had been entirely prudent to disregard the value of romantic love.

Wickham heard that Elizabeth and Darcy were engaged and he abandoned all hope of seducing any of the Bennet sisters. Less than two months after his arrival in Meryton, he began to have his usual difficulties. Whispers of mounting gaming debts and questionable activity involving the daughters of some local merchants reached the ears of Colonel Forster. Daunted by these circumstances as well as Darcy's continued presence in the neighborhood, Wickham soon abandoned the regiment and departed for London in search of his old friend Mrs. Younge.

Bingley hosted a ball the day after Christmas to celebrate the engagements of himself and his friend. The honored guests were seen to be smiling most of the time and laughing the rest, and a delightful evening was had by all except Miss Bingley. Even Mrs. Hurst enjoyed herself; her husband, so relieved to be sharing the burden of Caroline's company with someone else for an evening, danced nearly every dance with his wife. Georgiana was able to visit and was thrilled that her first ball was in the country among friends. Lydia danced with Denny four times, and Mr. Bennet took it upon himself to ascertain the intentions of the young man before leaving the ballroom that night. Knowing he had been an associate of Wickham's, Mr. Bennet also had a talk with Colonel Forster and a few other officers to sketch Denny's character. Satisfied, he gave Lydia leave to like the young man.

With Lydia's time much occupied by her suitor, Kitty directed her sisterly affection toward Mary who, being the most ignored person in the house, welcomed the attention most heartily. Although the younger Miss Bennet had no fondness for Fordyce, she found herself quite intrigued by several of the books that Mary had hidden away in her room. The two ladies spent many a morning together reading and discussing novels and even attempted to write one of their own.

Lady Catherine soon heard of the engagement that was to destroy all her plans, and she was as obscene in her abuse of the future Mrs. Darcy as her nephew had anticipated. Her daughter Anne, having received and been gratified by the earlier news from her cousin Georgiana, had arranged a visit with her uncle the Earl of Matlock in anticipation of her mother's disapprobation of the match. Anne left just as Darcy's letter to Lady Catherine arrived, and the mother's screams of horror could be heard quite well by the daughter as she fled Rosings in the Barouche.

With Anne away for some weeks, Lady Catherine took out the bulk of her frustration on her clergyman. Mr. Collins, unable in the eyes of his patroness to atone for the sin of being Elizabeth's cousin (though a distant one), found himself calling at Rosings Park less and less frequently. By the time he and Charlotte married, he rarely saw her ladyship outside of Sunday services. This development undoubtedly resulted in a greater degree of domestic tranquility for the Collinses than would have been possible otherwise.

The day that the two eldest Bennet girls married the men they loved was the talk of the neighborhood for many months. Mrs. Bennet's arrangements for both the ceremony and the wedding breakfast were superb, eliciting more than one compliment from her husband on her talents. For a moment, Mr. Bennet saw in his companion the young, vivacious woman who had captured his attention all those years ago. The image faded quickly, but the fact that it had appeared at all gave the man great hopes that Longbourn without his Jane and Lizzy would not be as unbearable as he first thought.

The End

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