Unexpected Treasures

By Julie H.

Beginning, Next Section

Author's Note: After enjoying all your stories for nearly a year I have finally decided to post something of my own. I know this has been done a lot but this is my version of events from Darcy's point of view. I want to thank my sister for editing this and all my friends who encouraged me to do it. I hope you all enjoy it. I'm sure you will all recognize that several passages have been quoted directly from the book.

Prologue

Posted on Sunday, 13 May 2001

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. It is also a truth, though only slightly acknowledged, that that wife can sometimes be very difficult to find.

Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy was one of the few who recognized this second truth. He was nearly eight and twenty and had been looking for his wife since he came of age. There was no lack of candidates, for Mr. Darcy owned a large estate in Derbyshire that gave him an annual income of more than ten thousand pounds. Adding to this attraction, he was possessed of a fine, tall person, handsome features, and a noble mien. These qualities ensured that eligible young ladies and their mothers were forever courting his attention. Even his Aunt Catherine de Bourgh was convinced he would marry his cousin Anne, a delusion he was unable to dissuade her from. In spite of all these possibilities, Darcy had yet to find the one woman he could love and respect.

When Mr. Darcy went into Hertfordshire with his friend Charles Bingley, the last thing he expected to find in that provincial and bucolic county was that woman. But he did.

Chapter 1

Mr. Charles Bingley was Mr. Darcy's most intimate friend. He was a good looking and gentlemanlike young man of three and twenty; he had a pleasant countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. He was from a respectable family in the north of England and had inherited property of the amount of nearly an hundred thousand pounds, giving him four or five thousand a year.

Between Darcy and Bingley there was a very steady friendship, in spite of a great opposition of character.--Bingley was endeared to Darcy by his easiness, openness, ductility of his temper, though no disposition could offer a greater contrast to his own, and though with his own he never appeared dissatisfied. On the strength of Darcy's regard Bingley had the firmest reliance, and of his judgement the highest opinion. In understanding Darcy was the superior. Bingley was by no means deficient, but Darcy was clever. He was at the same time haughty, reserved, and fastidious, and his manners, though well bred, were not inviting. In that respect his friend had greatly the advantage. Bingley was sure of being liked wherever he appeared, Darcy was continually giving offense.

Mr. Bingley had recently rented an estate in Hertfordshire. Shortly after taking possession he returned to London and immediately called on Darcy at his town house.

"Bingley," said Darcy in surprise as the former was shown into his study, "I thought you were in Hertfordshire enjoying your new estate."

"I was. I have come to convince you to join me there. I should like your opinion on improvements and such. My sisters Hurst are to come so we shan't lack for company."

Little did Bingley know that this was no inducement to Darcy. Miss Caroline Bingley was the worst of all the young ladies pursuing him and her sister Mrs. Hurst was almost as bad. But Darcy knew Bingley depended on him and could not disappoint him. He therefore said, with what he hoped sounded like enthusiasm,

"I would be delighted to accompany you to Netherfield Bingley. I hope I shall be of assistance."

"Excellent," replied Bingley. "My sisters shall be ready to depart on Thursday; will that suit you?"

"Yes, Thursday is fine. I shall call for you at seven."

After Bingley left, Darcy contemplated the situation with less than pleasure. What had he gotten himself into? A few weeks shooting in the country with Bingley would be enjoyable. But he would also have to make himself agreeable to Bingley's sisters and, worse, endure Miss Bingley trying to be agreeable to him.

Mr. Bingley's sisters were very fine ladies; not deficient in good humour when they were pleased, nor in the power of being agreeable when they chose it; but proud and conceited. They were rather handsome, had been educated in one of the first seminaries in town, had a fortune of twenty thousand pounds, were in the habit of spending more than they ought, and of associating with people of rank; and therefore thought well of themselves, and meanly of others. The respectability of their family was a circumstance more deeply impressed on their memories than that their brother's fortune and their own had been acquired by trade.

All this was very well but the sisters tended to flaunt it; especially in front of Darcy. Now he would have to endure several weeks residing in the same house with them. And the society in Hertfordshire was bound to be limited and would not offer much relief from their company. He would simply have to make the best of it. Perhaps he could avoid them by immersing himself in Netherfield's affairs and teaching Bingley how to be the master of an estate.

Chapter 2

Posted on Wednesday, 23 May 2001

The party departed as planned on Thursday. It was a journey of only 24 miles and they arrived at Netherfield in time for luncheon. Afterwards the ladies and Hurst retired to rest from the journey and Darcy and Bingley went out to tour the grounds and countryside.

Darcy was pleased with Netherfield. It was nothing to his own estate, Pemberley, but the prospect was fine, the gardens lovely, and the farms appeared to be profitable. He thought Bingley would be able to make something of it, with the proper guidance.

Tea was a quiet affair, the ladies still keeping to their rooms. Afterwards, Darcy went over Netherfield's accounts in order to explain them to Bingley later.

Dinner and the hours spent in the drawing room were tedious. Darcy tried to ignore Miss Bingley's constant attentions but it was difficult in such a small party without being rude. He went to bed exhausted from the effort with the prospect of many such evening to look forward to.

With the addition of shooting in the morning, the next day was spent in much the same manner. On Saturday morning, Darcy learnt of a diversion to their routine. It was not, however, one he was pleased about.

While they were all eating breakfast, Bingley said, "What a delightful time we shall all have at the ball this evening."

Startled, Darcy's head snapped up. "What ball?" he asked warily.

"The assembly ball in Meryton. Didn't I tell you about it, Darcy?"

"No, Bingley, you did not."

"One of my new neighbors, a delightful man, Sir William Lucas, invited me to it when I was first here. You will come, won't you Darcy?"

"Yes, Mr. Darcy," added Miss Bingley, "you must come. There will be no one worth talking to if you do not."

Darcy did not want to go. He disliked dancing and he was uncomfortable among strangers feeling he had nothing to say to them. And these strangers, the country people of Hertfordshire, would likely be beneath his notice. But, as Bingley's guest, it was his duty to attend with him.

"Of course I shall attend, Bingley. I am, after all, at your disposal."

"Excellent. You shall not regret it, Darcy."

Darcy already regretted it but Bingley's obvious excitement made him more agreeable to the idea.

When the Netherfield party arrived at the Meryton assembly rooms, everything was just as Darcy expected; a room full of country people with country manners. He could hear the whispers about them circling the room almost on the moment of their entrance.

Darcy did not like being under such close scrutiny and immediately put up a mask to hide his uneasiness. Bingley, on the other hand was obviously quite eager to meet all these people.

The party was soon approached by Sir William Lucas. Bingley greeted him enthusiastically and quickly engaged his daughter for the next two dances. Darcy asked Miss Bingley to dance. He did not want to but he did not know anyone else and propriety required him to dance at least a few sets.

After the two dances with Miss Bingley, Darcy spent his time walking about the edges of the room, occasionally speaking to Miss Bingley or Mrs. Hurst when they approached him, and watching Bingley. He eventually danced a second set, this time with Mrs. Hurst. He did not understand how Bingley could be so easy as to be already acquainted with all the principal people and to dance every dance.

Several hours into the evening, Bingley left his partner, a rather pretty girl whom Darcy noticed he was dancing with for the second time, and approached Darcy.

"Come, Darcy,' said he, "I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance."

"I certainly shall not, You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this; it would be insupportable. Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in the room, whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with."

"I would not be so fastidious as you are," cried Bingley, "for a kingdom! Upon my honour, I never met with so many pretty girls in my life, as I have met this evening; and there are several of them you see uncommonly pretty."

"You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room," said Darcy, looking at Bingley's partner.

"Oh! she is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld!"

Darcy smiled. Bingley was forever saying that about any number of young ladies.

"But there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say, very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you."

"Which do you mean?" and turning round, he looked for a moment at the girl. The young lady was about twenty with dark hair and dark eyes. She was pretty but nothing extraordinary. He looked at her long enough to catch her eye, and withdrawing his own coldly said, "She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me; and I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting you time with me."

With a small shake of his head, Bingley followed this advise and Darcy returned to walking about the room.

Sometime later, Darcy noticed the girl again. She was speaking with Miss Lucas and both glanced at him several times. He felt himself pale slightly as he realized she must have overheard his remarks about her. He was puzzled by her behavior. Instead of being angry or hurt, as he would have expected, she appeared to find a great deal of amusement in the situation. For the rest of the evening, Darcy found his thoughts returning frequently to her.

"Well," said Bingley, "when they were all in the carriage on the way back to Netherfield, "was that not as I anticipated, a delightful evening?" No one responded so he continued himself. "I have never met with pleasanter people or prettier girls in my life. Everyone was most kind and attentive. There was no formality or stiffness and I feel myself quite acquainted with the whole assembly. And Miss Bennet, there could not be an angel more beautiful."

"Miss Bennet?" questioned Darcy.

"The young lady whose sister you refused to dance with. Really, Darcy, did you not meet anyone?"

"No. I saw little beauty and no fashion and I felt not the smallest interest in anyone. Miss Bennet is pretty but she smiles too much."

"Nonsense," began Bingley, but his sister interrupted.

"Yes," she said, "but she is a sweet girl and I would not object to knowing more of her. Do you not agree, Louisa?"

"Oh yes," replied Mrs. Hurst, "a very sweet girl."

The conversation soon dwindled and Darcy found himself again thinking of Miss Bennet's sister.

Chapter 3

Posted on Saturday, 26 May 2001

A few days after the assembly, Mrs. Bennet and her five daughters came to call at Netherfield. They had been with the ladies about ten minutes when Bingley discovered their presence. Anxious to see Miss Bennet again, Bingley persuaded Darcy that they should join the party in the morning room.

"Mrs. Bennet," said Bingley, "how wonderful to meet you and your lovely daughters again."

"My dear, Mr. Bingley," screeched Mrs. Bennet, " how are we ever to thank you and your sisters for you kind hospitality."

"Think nothing of it." replied Bingley. "Mrs. Bennet, I do not believe you have been introduced to my friend. May I present Mr. Darcy? Darcy, this is Mrs. Bennet and her daughters, Miss Jane Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary, Miss Catherine, and Miss Lydia."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, madam, and all your daughters."

"Mr. Darcy," replied Mrs. Bennet coldly as the girls all nodded. She then returned her attention to Bingley and Darcy seated himself a bit apart from the rest of the party and observed.

Mrs. Bennet carried on an excited monologue with Bingley about the splendors of Netherfield and the beauty of Miss Bennet, for whom she clearly intended Bingley. She was a very silly woman and at least her two eldest daughters seemed embarrassed by her effusions. Darcy was puzzled by her coldness towards himself but after witnessing her display was glad of it.

Miss Bennet, Bingley's angel, was conversing happily with Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley. her manners were open and engaging and her countenance showed her to be of a serene temperament. And being very pretty, she was precisely the type of young lady Bingley was forever falling in love with.

Miss Bennet was the prettiest of the five girls and Miss Mary was the plainest. She sat by herself absorbed in a book. Darcy wondered about the book; it was rather large and looked to be a religious tome, nothing like the novels his sister, Georgiana, liked to read. She must be a rather serious young lady.

Miss Catherine and Miss Lydia, the two youngest were whispering and giggling together. Miss Lydia could be no more than fifteen and Darcy wondered at her being out in society; Georgiana was at least a year older and she would not come out for another year at least. Both girls seemed to take after their mother and were very silly. And Miss Lydia was also loud and boisterous.

Then there was Miss Elizabeth, the young lady Darcy had refused to dance with at the assembly. He studied her carefully. His first impression of her had been correct; she was just tolerable. She had hardly a good feature in her face, he detected more than one failure of perfect symmetry in her form, and her manners were not those of the fashionable world.

She was nominally involved in the conversation between Miss Bennet and Bingley's sisters. She seemed to be wary of the Bingley sisters, especially Miss Bingley, and Darcy was struck by her perceptiveness. She paid no attention to him at all. Not even a glance in his direction after the initial introduction.

It was not long before the Bennets rose to depart. Mrs Bennet was most enthusiastic in her thanks and hoped to see them all at her husband's estate, Longbourn, soon. A wish of knowing Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth better was expressed by Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley and received graciously by Miss Bennet and reluctantly by Miss Elizabeth.

After the Bennets were gone, Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst began abusing them all abominably. Only Miss Bennet escaped and Darcy could tell the slight praise they gave her was insincere.

In the course of the sisters' tirade, Darcy learned that Miss Elizabeth had a local reputation for beauty. "She a beauty!" he exclaimed in surprise, "I should as soon call her mother a wit." He instantly regretted having said it, however, for Miss Bingley was quite pleased with it and he did not like to encourage her.

The conversation soon turned and Darcy was vexed to find his thoughts again dwelling on Miss Elizabeth.

Over the next week Darcy was in company with Bennets several times. He always found himself watching Miss Elizabeth and soon made a startling discovery. He found that the beautiful expression of her sparkling dark eyes rendered her face uncommonly intelligent. To this was soon added the equally mortifying discoveries that her figure was light and pleasing and that her country manners caught his fancy by their easy playfulness.

He soon began to wish to know more of her, and as a step towards conversing with her himself, attended to her conversations with others. This proved to be very enlightening. He learned that she was quite vivacious and witty and that she was well liked. Everyone took pleasure in speaking with her.

He was not, however, very discreet and soon learned that Miss Elizabeth knew what he was about. They were at a gathering at Sir William Lucas's and Darcy had been listening to Miss Elizabeth converse with the commander of a regiment of militia that had recently been quartered in Meryton. Later, he was walking past her and Miss Lucas when she suddenly addressed him.

"Did not you think, Mr. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forster to give us a ball at Meryton?"

Darcy was startled, he had not yet built up the courage to speak with her but somehow managed to reply with composure.

"With great energy; -- but it is a subject which always makes a lady energetic."

"You are severe on us."

Darcy did not know how to reply to that. He had not meant to be severe and was sorry she had taken it that way. Before he could find the words to express this, Miss Lucas entered the conversation.

It will be her turn soon to be teased," said she. "I am going to open the instrument, Eliza, and you know what follows."

"You are a very strange creature by way of a friend!" replied Miss Elizabeth, "always wanting me to play and sing before any body and every body! -- If my vanity had taken a musical turn, you would have been invaluable, but as it is, I would really rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of hearing the very best performers." On Miss Lucas's persevering, however, she added, "Very well; if it must be so, it must." And gravely glancing at Darcy, "There is a fine old saying, which every body here is of course familiar with -- 'Keep your breath to cool your porridge,' -- and I shall keep mine to swell my song."

The ladies then left him and went to the pianoforte. Darcy wished she had not left so soon but she really had no reason to stay. The ladies had carried the conversation, he had barely contributed at all. He determined to do better next time.

These thoughts were soon interrupted by Miss Elizabeth beginning to play. Darcy listened with rapt attention. Her performance was by no means flawless but was easy and unaffected and very pleasant to listen to. Darcy was disappointed when after only two songs Miss Mary succeeded her at the instrument and began playing Scotch and Irish airs, at the request of her younger sisters, who, with some of the Lucases and two or three officers, joined eagerly in dancing at one end of the room.

Darcy stood nearby, idly watching but engrossed in his own thoughts until he was recalled by Sir William saying to him,

"What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy! -- There is nothing like dancing after all. -- I consider it as one of the first refinements of polished societies."

"Certainly, Sir; -- and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world. -- Every savage can dance."

Sir William only smiled. "Your friend performs delightfully;" he continued after a pause, on seeing Bingley join the group; -- "and I doubt not that you are an adept in the science yourself, Mr. Darcy."

"You saw me dance at Meryton, I believe, Sir."

"Yes, indeed, and received no inconsiderable pleasure from the sight. Do you often dance at St. James's?"

"Never, sir."

"Do you not think it would be a proper compliment to the place?"

"It is a compliment which I never pay to any place if I can avoid it."

At that instant Miss Elizabeth passed by and Sir William called out to her,

"My dear Miss Eliza, why are not you dancing? -- Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. -- You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure, when so much beauty is before you."

Indeed, he could not and was about to take the hand offered him when Miss Elizabeth drew back, and said with some discomposure to Sir William,

"Indeed, Sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. -- I entreat you not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner."

"I would be most honoured to dance with you, Miss Bennet," said Darcy most sincerely.

Miss Elizabeth gave him a strange look and repeated her refusal. Darcy was disappointed and Sir William could not shake her purpose by his attempt at persuasion.

"You excel so much in the dance, Miss Eliza, that it is cruel to deny me the happiness of seeing you; and though this gentleman dislikes the amusement in general, he can have no objection, I am sure, to oblige us for one half hour."

"Mr. Darcy is all politeness," said Miss Elizabeth, smiling.

"He is indeed -- but considering the inducement, my dear Miss Eliza, we cannot wonder at his complaisance; for who would object to such a partner?"

Miss Elizabeth gave Darcy an arch look and turned away. Any doubts Darcy had about her having heard his comments at the assembly vanished with that look. She had meant to tell him that he had once objected to such a partner and she was going to punish him for it. He cold not blame her for it but was surprised. She was the only young lady of his acquaintance who would do such a thing. All the others would jump at a chance to dance with him. That Miss Elizabeth was different intrigued him. He wondered how long it would take her to forgive him the slight.

While Darcy was in the midst of these ruminations, he was accosted by Miss Bingley.

"I can guess the subject of your reverie," she said.

Darcy was annoyed by her intrusion but answered politely, "I should imagine not."

"You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings in this manner -- in such society; and indeed I am quite of your opinion. I was never more annoyed! The insipidity and yet the noise; the nothingness and yet the self-importance of all these people! -- What would I give to hear your strictures on them!"

"Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow."

Miss Bingley immediately fixed her eyes on his face, and desired he would tell her what lady had the credit of inspiring such reflections.

Darcy had no scruples in disappointing her. "Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

"Miss Elizabeth Bennet!" repeated Miss Bingley. "I am all astonishment. How long has she been such a favourite? -- and pray when am I to wish you joy?"

Darcy resisted the urge to roll his eyes; he had no intention of marrying Miss Elizabeth. "A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from
admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment. I should have known you would be wishing me joy."

"Nay, if you are so serious about it, I shall consider the matter as absolutely settled. You will have a charming mother-in-law, indeed, and of course she will be always at Pemberley with you."

He listened to her with what he hoped was perfect indifference until she tired of entertaining herself in this manner.

Chapter 4

Posted on Friday, 1 June 2001

A few days after the party at Lucas Lodge, the gentlemen were invited to dine with the officers of the regiment. The ladies, in order to fill the void left by the gentlemen's absence, invited Miss Bennet to dine with them. It was a rather stormy day, and when the gentlemen returned they discovered that Miss Bennet had arrived on horseback and was therefore obliged to stay the night. Bingley was delighted, though concerned that she had gotten damp. Darcy wondered at her not using a carriage in such weather.

In the morning, it was discovered that Miss Bennet had fallen ill. The apothecary was immediately sent for and a note dispatched to Longbourn.

Later, when the party was at breakfast, they were all surprised when Miss Elizabeth Bennet was shown into the room.

"Miss Bennet!" said Bingley as the gentlemen rose, "what a pleasant surprise."

"I am sorry to intrude, Mr. Bingley," said she, "but I have come to inquire after my sister. I hope it is not too much trouble."

"Did you walk, Miss Bennet?" interjected Miss Bingley.

It was obvious that she had for her appearance was quite disheveled. Some of her hair had come loose and her petticoats were quite dirty. but Darcy barely noticed these details. What he did notice was the brilliance the exercise had given her complexion.

"Yes. Miss Bingley, it is only three miles," replied Miss Elizabeth.

"Three miles!" exclaimed Miss Bingley, not a little surprised, "so early and in all this dirt?"

"And all alone?" added Mrs. Hurst.

Darcy doubted that the situation justified coming so far alone but was appalled by the rudeness of Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. Miss Elizabeth did not bother replying and soon Bingley said,

"Will you join us for breakfast, Miss Bennet?"

"That is very kind of you, Mr. Bingley, but I have had my breakfast already and I would like to see Jane."

"Yes, of course you would. Caroline, would you be so kind?

The apothecary came, and having examined his patient, said, as might be supposed, that she had caught a violent cold, and that they must endeavor to get the better of it; advised her to return to bed, and promised her some draughts. This advice was followed readily. The gentlemen went out for the day and when they returned they learned that Miss Elizabeth had not quit Miss Bennet's room for a moment. When the time came for Miss Elizabeth to depart, Miss Bennet testified such concern in parting with her that Miss Bingley was obliged to invite her to remain at Netherfield for the present. Miss Elizabeth most thankfully consented, and a servant was dispatched to Longbourn to acquaint the family with her stay, and bring back a supply of clothes. Darcy heard this news with mixed emotions. The thought of seeing a lot of Miss Elizabeth was very pleasing but he began to be afraid of her effect on him.

That evening after dinner, Miss Elizabeth returned directly to her sister, and Miss Bingley began abusing her as soon as she was out of the room. Her manners were pronounced to be very bad indeed, a mixture of pride and impertinence; she had no conversation, no style, no taste, no beauty. Darcy did not agree but, wary of Miss Bingley, said nothing. Mrs. Hurst, however, thought the same as her sister, and added,

"She has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being an excellent walker. I shall never forget her appearance this morning. She really looked almost wild."

"She did indeed, Louisa. I could hardly keep my countenance. Very nonsensical to come at all! Why must she be scampering about the country, because her sister had a cold? Her hair so untidy, so blowzy!"

"Yes, and her petticoat; I hope you saw her petticoat, six inches deep in mud, I am absolutely certain; and the gown which had been let down to hide it not doing its office."

Darcy had begun to wonder if his honour would require a contradiction, when Bingley rescued him from the necessity.

"Your picture may be very exact, Louisa," said he; "but this was all lost upon me. I thought Miss Elizabeth Bennet looked remarkably well, when she came into the room this morning. Her dirty petticoat quite escaped my notice."

"You observed it, Mr. Darcy, I am sure," said Miss Bingley, "and I am inclined to think that you would not wish to see your sister make such an exhibition."

"Certainly not," Darcy was forced to say. But then Georgiana was so different from Miss Elizabeth and quite a bit younger.

"To walk three miles, or four miles, or five miles, or whatever it is, above her ankles in dirt, and alone, quite alone! what could she mean by it? It seems to me to shew an abominable sort of conceited independence, a most country town indifference to decorum."

"It shews an affection for her sister that is very pleasing," said Bingley. Darcy was again relieved by Bingley's interference.

"I am afraid, Mr. Darcy," observed Miss Bingley in a half whisper, "that this adventure has rather affected your admiration of her fine eyes."

"Not at all, he replied, just a touch triumphantly; "they were brightened by the exercise."--A short pause followed this speech, and Mrs. Hurst began again.

"I have an excessive regard for Jane Bennet, she is really a very sweet girl, and I wish with all my heart she were well settled. But with such a father and mother, and such low connections, I am afraid there is no chance of it."

"I think I have heard you say, that their uncle is an attorney in Meryton," said Miss Bingley.

"Yes; and they have another, who lives somewhere near Cheapside."

"That is capital," added her sister, and they both laughed heartily.

Darcy listened to all this with a sinking feeling. Relations in trade! That would never do.

"If they had uncles enough to fill all Cheapside," cried Bingley, "it would not make them one jot less agreeable."

"But it very materially lessens their chance of marrying men of any consideration in the world," replied Darcy, with some pain, which surprised him.

To this speech Bingley made no answer; but his sisters gave it their hearty assent, and indulged their mirth for some time at the expense of their dear friend's vulgar relations.

With a renewal of tenderness, however, they repaired to her room on leaving the dining-parlour, and sat with her till summoned to coffee.

Chapter 5

Miss Elizabeth would not quit her sister till late in the evening, when she had the comfort of seeing her asleep. The whole party was at loo when she entered the drawing room; she was immediately invited to join them but declined, saying she would amuse herself for the short time she could stay below with a book. Mr. Hurst looked at her with astonishment.

"Do you prefer reading to cards?" said he; "that is rather singular."

"Miss Eliza Bennet," said Miss Bingley, "despises cards She is a great reader and has no pleasure in anything else."

"I deserve neither such praise nor such censure," cried Miss Elizabeth; "I am not a great reader, and I have pleasure in many things."

"In nursing your sister I am sure you have pleasure," said Bingley; "and I hope it will soon be increased by seeing her quite well."

Miss Elizabeth thanked him, and then walked towards a table where a few books were lying. He immediately offered to fetch her others; all that his library afforded.

"And I wish my collection were larger for your benefit and my own credit; but I am an idle fellow, and though I have not many, I have more than I ever look into."

Miss Elizabeth assured him that she could suit herself perfectly with those in the room.

"I am astonished," said Miss Bingley, "that my father should have left so small a collection of books. What a delightful library you have at Pemberley, Mr. Darcy!"

Darcy had been concentrating on Miss Elizabeth and was startled at being addressed. He had heard enough of the conversation, however, to reply.

"It ought to be good, it has been the work of many generations."

"And then you have added so much to it yourself, you are always buying books."

"I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in such days as these."

"Neglect! I am sure you neglect nothing that can add to the beauties of that noble place. Charles, when you build your house, I wish it may be half as delightful as Pemberley."

"I wish it may."

"But I would really advise you to make your purchase in that neighbourhood, and take Pemberley for a kind of model. There is not a finer county in England than Derbyshire."

"With all my heart; I will buy Pemberley itself if Darcy will sell it."

"I am talking of possibilities, Charles."

"Upon my word, Caroline, I should think it more possible to get Pemberley by purchase than by imitation."

At this point, Miss Elizabeth put her book down and drawing near the card table, stationed herself between Mr. Bingley and his eldest sister to observe the game.

"Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring?" said Miss Bingley; "will she be as tall as I am?"

Darcy was suspicious of Miss Bingley's motives in changing the conversation, but answered, "I think she will. She is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet's height, or rather taller."

"How I long to see her again! I never met with anybody who delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such manners, and so extremely accomplished for her age! Her performance on the piano-forte is exquisite."

"It is amazing to me," said Bingley, "how young ladies can have patience to be so very accomplished as they all are."

"All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?"

"Yes all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, and net purses. I scarcely know any one who cannot do all this, and I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished."

"Your list of the common extent of accomplishments," said Darcy, "has too much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no otherwise than by netting a purse, or covering a screen. But I am very far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I cannot boast of knowing more than half a dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really accomplished."

"Nor I, I am sure," said Miss Bingley.

"Then," observed Miss Elizabeth, "you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished women."

"Yes, I do comprehend a great deal in it," replied Darcy, thrilled that she has entered the conversation.

"Oh! certainly," cried Miss Bingley, "no one can be really esteemed accomplished, who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half deserved."

"All this she must possess," added Darcy with a hint of sarcasm, and then looking pointedly at Miss Elizabeth, "and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading."

"I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any."

Darcy had meant to give her a compliment and wondered if she had truly misunderstood him. He quickly discarded that idea, however, realizing that it was purposely done and that she was still trying to punish him. He decided to play along.

"Are you so severe upon your own sex, as to doubt the possibility of all this?"

"I never saw such a woman, I never saw such capacity, and taste, and application, and elegance, as you describe, united."

Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley both cried out against the injustice of her implied doubt, and were both protesting that they knew many women who answered this description, and Darcy was having a hard time concealing his amusement at their perfidy, when Mr. Hurst called them to order, with bitter complaints of their inattention to what was going forward. As all conversation was thereby at an end, Miss Elizabeth soon afterwards left the room.

"Eliza Bennet," said Miss Bingley, when the door was closed on her, "is one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other sex by undervaluing their own, and with many men, I dare say, it succeeds. But, in my opinion, it is a paltry device, a very mean art."

Darcy, to whom this remark was chiefly addressed, did not agree with the sentiment concerning Miss Elizabeth, and, recognizing Miss Bingley's art in the matter, sought to silence her by replying, "Undoubtedly, there is meanness in all the arts which ladies sometimes condescend to employ for captivation. Whatever bears affinity to cunning is despicable."

The remark was successful and Miss Bingley did not continue the subject.

Miss Elizabeth joined them again only to say that her sister was worse, and that she could not leave her. Bingley urged Mr. Jones's being sent for immediately; while his sisters, convinced that no country advice could be of any service, recommended an express to town for one of the most eminent physicians. This she would not hear of, but she was not so unwilling to comply with their brother's proposal; and it was settled that Mr. Jones should be sent for early in the morning if Miss Bennet were not decidedly better.

Chapter 6

Posted on Sunday, 10 June 2001

The next morning, Mrs. Bennet came, accompanied by her two youngest daughters, to visit Miss Bennet and judge of the situation. After sitting with Miss Bennet awhile, the mother and three daughters attended Miss Bingley into the breakfast parlour. Bingley met them with hopes that Mrs. Bennet had not found Miss Bennet worse than she expected.

"Indeed I have, Sir," was her answer. "She is a great deal too ill to be moved. Mr. Jones says we must not think of moving her. We must trespass a little longer on your kindness."

"Removed!" cried Bingley. "It must not be thought of. My sister, I am sure, will not hear of her removal."

"You may depend upon it, Madam," said Miss Bingley, with cold civility, "that Miss Bennet shall receive every possible attention while she remains with us."

Mrs. Bennet was profuse in her acknowledgments. She went off on a long speech praising Miss Bennet, Bingley, and Netherfield. Darcy ceased to attend and instead watched Miss Elizabeth until he heard Bingley speak again.

"Whatever I do is done in a hurry," said he, "and therefore if I should resolve to quit Netherfield, I should probably be off in five minutes. At present, however, I consider myself as quite fixed here."

"That is exactly what I should have supposed of you," said Miss Elizabeth.

"You begin to comprehend me, do you?" cried he, turning towards her.

"Oh! yes--I understand you perfectly."

"I wish I might take this for a compliment; but to be so easily seen through I am afraid is pitiful."

"That is as it happens. It does not necessarily follow that a deep, intricate character is more or less estimable than such a one as yours."

"Lizzy," cried her mother, "remember where you are, and do not run on in the wild manner that you are suffered to do at home."

Darcy cringed and felt sorry for Miss Elizabeth to have such a mother. But this same mother gave him another reason not to let his growing admiration for the daughter touch his heart.

Despite Mrs. Bennet's interruption, Bingley continued, "I did not know before, that you were a studier of character. It must be an amusing study."

"Yes; but intricate characters are the most amusing. They have at least that advantage."

"The country," said Darcy, "can in general supply but few subjects for such a study." He longed to know what he had revealed to her of his own character but, was, at the same time, afraid of the answer. "In a country neighbourhood you move in a very confined and unvarying society."

"But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be observed in them forever."

"Yes, indeed," cried Mrs. Bennet, in a tone which bespoke her offence. What had he said to offend her? "I assure you there is quite as much of that going on in the country as in town."

Every body was surprised; and Darcy, after looking at her for a moment, turned silently away.

Mrs. Bennet, continued in a triumphant voice, "I cannot see that London has any great advantage over the country for my part, except the shops and public places. The country is a vast deal pleasanter, is not it, Mr. Bingley?"

"When I am in the country," he replied, "I never wish to leave it; and when I am in town it is pretty much the same. They have each their advantages, and I can be equally happy in either."

"Aye--that is because you have the right disposition. But that gentleman," looking at Darcy, "seemed to think the country was nothing at all."

"Indeed, Mama, you are mistaken," said Elizabeth, blushing. "You quite mistook Mr. Darcy. He only meant that there were not such a variety of people to be met with in the country as in town, which you must acknowledge to be true."

"Certainly, my dear, nobody said there were; but as to not meeting with many people in this neighbourhood, I believe there are few neighbourhoods larger. I know we dine with four and twenty families."

Darcy was again embarrassed for Miss Elizabeth. Bingley was able to keep his countenance but his sister directed her eye towards Darcy with a very expressive smile which he ignored for Miss Elizabeth's sake. Miss Elizabeth then changed the subject by asking if Miss Lucas had been at Longbourn since her coming away.

"Yes, she called yesterday with her father. What an agreeable man Sir William is, Mr. Bingley--is not he? so much the man of fashion! so genteel and so easy!? He has always something to say to every body.--That is my idea of good breeding; and those persons who fancy themselves very important and never open their mouths, quite mistake the matter."

Darcy knew this to be directed at himself. Mrs. Bennet obviously disliked him. He couldn't fathom why but decided it didn't really matter. Mrs. Bennet continued to rattle on and Darcy allowed his attention to wander again until he heard Miss Elizabeth say impatiently, "And so ended his affection. There has been many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I wonder who first discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving away love!"

"I have been used to consider poetry as the food of love," said Darcy, though he had no idea what the conversation was about.

"Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Every thing nourishes what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away."

Darcy knew not how to answer that and only smiled. In the general pause which then ensued, Miss Elizabeth appeared anxious, probably in fear of what her mother might say, he thought, and again felt sorry for her.

After a short silence Mrs. Bennet began repeating her thanks to Bingley for his kindness to Miss Bennet with an apology for troubling him also with Miss Elizabeth. Bingley was unaffectedly civil in his answer, and forced his younger sister to be civil also, and say what the occasion required. She performed her part, indeed, without much graciousness, but Mrs. Bennet did not seem to notice, and soon afterwards ordered her carriage. Upon this signal, her two youngest daughters, who had spent the whole visit whispering together, came forward and Miss Lydia taxed Bingley with having promised on his first coming into the country to give a ball at Netherfield.

"I am perfectly ready, I assure you, to keep my engagement, and when your sister is recovered, you shall if you please, name the very day of the ball. But you would not wish to be dancing while she is ill."

Miss Lydia declared herself satisfied. "Oh! yes--it would be much better to wait till Jane was well.

Mrs. Bennet and her daughters then departed, and Miss Elizabeth returned instantly to Miss Bennet, leaving her own and her relations' behaviour to the remarks of the two ladies and Darcy; the latter of whom, however, could not be prevailed on to join in their censure of her, in spite of all Miss Bingley's witticisms on fine eyes.

Chapter 7

The day passed much as the day before had done and in the evening Miss Elizabeth joined their party in the drawing room. The loo table, however, did not appear. Miss Elizabeth took up some needlework, Hurst and Bingley were at piquet, and Mrs. Hurst was observing their game.

Darcy was writing a letter to Georgiana, and Miss Bingley, seated near him, was watching the progress of his letter, and, much to his annoyance, repeatedly calling off his attention by messages to his sister. However, he civilly received the perpetual commendations of the lady either on his handwriting, or on the evenness of his lines, or on the length of his letter, with the perfect unconcern.

My dearest Georgiana,

I received your letter dated the tenth and am pleased to hear that everything is well at Pemberley. We are all fine here in Hertfordshire. Miss Bingley wishes me to send her regards and says that she looks forward to seeing you.

"How delighted Miss Darcy will be to receive such a letter!" said Miss Bingley. Darcy made no answer.

How do you get on with Mrs. Annesley?

"You write uncommonly fast."

"You are mistaken. I write rather slowly."

She has sent me a good report of you.

"How many letters you must have occasion to write in the course of the year! Letters of business too! How odious I should think them!"

"It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of to yours."

Is she a help with your lessons?

"Pray tell your sister that I long to see her."

"I have already told her so once, by your desire."

How is your music coming along? and your drawing?

"I am afraid you do not like your pen. Let me mend it for you. I mend pens remarkably well."

"Thank you--but I always mend my own."

It is rather quiet here and we have had few engagements.

"How can you contrive to write so even?" He was silent.

Most of the people here are quite provincial.

"Tell your sister I am delighted to hear of her improvement on the harp, and pray let her know that I am quite in raptures with her beautiful little design for a table, and I think it infinitely superior to Miss Grantley's."

"Will you give me leave to defer your raptures till I write again?--At present I have not room to do them justice."

"Oh! it is of no consequence. I shall see her in January. But do you always write such charming long letters to her, Mr. Darcy?"

"They are generally long; but whether always charming, it is not for me to determine."

"It is a rule with me, that a person who can write a long letter, with ease, cannot write ill."

"That will not do for a compliment to Darcy, Caroline," cried her brother, "because he does not write with ease. He studies too much for words of four syllables. Do not you, Darcy?"

"My style of writing is very different from yours."

"Oh!" cried Miss Bingley, "Charles writes in the most careless way imaginable. He leaves out half his words, and blots the rest."

"My ideas flow so rapidly that I have not time to express them--by which means my letters sometimes convey no ideas at all to my correspondents."

Miss Elizabeth now joined the conversation, raising Darcy's interest in it. "Your humility, Mr. Bingley," said she, "must disarm reproof."

"Nothing is more deceitful," said Darcy, "than the appearance of humility. It is often only carelessness of opinion, and sometimes an indirect boast."

"And which of the two do you call my little recent piece of modesty?" questioned Bingley.

"The indirect boast;--for you are really proud of your defects in writing, because you consider them as proceeding from a rapidity of thought and carelessness of execution, which if not estimable, you think at least highly interesting. The power of doing any thing with quickness is always much prized by the possessor, and often without any attention to the imperfection of the performance. When you told Mrs. Bennet this morning that if you ever resolved on quitting Netherfield you should be gone in five minutes, you meant it to be a sort of panegyric, of compliment to yourself--and yet what is there so very laudable in a precipitance which must leave very necessary business undone, and can be of no real advantage to yourself or any one else?"

"Nay," cried Bingley, "this is too much, to remember at night all the foolish things that were said in the morning. And yet, upon my honour, I believed what I said of myself to be true, and I believe it at this moment."

"I dare say you believed it; but I am by no means convinced that you would be gone with such celerity. Your conduct would be quite as dependant on chance as that of any man I know; and if, as you were mounting your horse, a friend were to say, 'Bingley, you had better stay till next week,' you would probably do it, you would probably not go--and, at another word, might stay a month."

"You have only proved by this," cried Miss Elizabeth, "that Mr. Bingley did not do justice to his own disposition. You have shewn him off now much more than he did himself."

"I am exceedingly gratified," said Bingley, "by your converting what my friend says into a compliment on the sweetness of my temper. But I am afraid you are giving it a turn which that gentleman did by no means intend; for he would certainly think the better of me, if under such a circumstance I were to give a flat denial, and ride off as fast as I could."

Darcy shifted in his seat, he did not like this turn in the conversation. He was afraid Miss Elizabeth would get the wrong idea about him. But he listened on in patient silence.

"Would Mr. Darcy then consider the rashness of your original intention as atoned for by your obstinacy in adhering to it?"

"Upon my word I cannot exactly explain the matter; Darcy must speak for himself."

"You expect me to account for opinions which you choose to call mine, but which I have never acknowledged. Allowing the case, however, to stand according to your representation, you must remember, Miss Bennet, that the friend who is supposed to desire his return to the house, and the delay of his plan, has merely desired it, asked it without offering one argument in favour of its propriety."

"To yield readily--easily--to the persuasion of a friend is no merit with you."

"To yield without conviction is no compliment to the understanding of either."

"You appear to me, Mr. Darcy, to allow nothing for the influence of friendship and affection. I am not particularly speaking of such a case as you have supposed about Mr. Bingley. We may as well wait, perhaps, till the circumstance occurs, before we discuss the discretion of his behaviour thereupon. But in general and ordinary cases between friend and friend, where one of them is desired by the other to change a resolution of no very great moment, should you think ill of that person for complying with the desire, without waiting to be argued into it?"

"Will it not be advisable, before we proceed on this subject, to arrange with rather more precision the degree of importance which is to appertain to this request, as well as the degree of intimacy subsisting between the parties?"

"By all means," cried Bingley; "Let us hear all the particulars, not forgetting their comparative height and size; for that will have more weight in the argument, Miss Bennet, than you may be aware of. I assure you that if Darcy were not such a great tall fellow, in comparison with myself, I should not pay him half so much deference. I declare I do not know a more awful object than Darcy, on particular occasions, and in particular places; at his own house especially, and of a Sunday evening when he has nothing to do."

Darcy smiled but he felt uncomfortable and somewhat offended. Miss Elizabeth looked as if she wanted to laugh but, she did not. Miss Bingley warmly resented the indignity he had received in an expostulation with her brother for talking such nonsense.

"I see your design, Bingley," said Darcy.--"You dislike an argument, and want to silence this."

"Perhaps I do. Arguments are too much like disputes. If you and Miss Bennet will defer yours till I am out of the room, I shall be very thankful; and then you may say whatever you like of me."

"What you ask," said Miss Elizabeth, "is no sacrifice on my side; and Mr. Darcy had much better finish his letter."

Despite the discomfort he had felt during most of it, Darcy found himself disappointed that the conversation had come to an end. For some reason arguing with Miss Elizabeth was rather pleasant. After contemplating her for a few minutes he followed her advice and returned to his letter.

There are a few notable exceptions however. We have had an addition to our party the last few days. One of the ladies of the neighborhood fell ill while she was dining here. We do not, of course, see her but her sister has come to attend her and brings a liveliness to our evenings that is usually lacking. I am sorry I have not more news to tell you but, as I said we lead a quiet existence here in the country. I look forward to seeing you again at Christmas. Please write me again soon.

Your brother, Fitzwilliam Darcy

When Darcy was finished with his letter, he applied to Miss Bingley and Miss Elizabeth for the indulgence of some music. Miss Bingley, anxious to please, as always, moved with alacrity to the piano-forte, and after a polite request that Miss Elizabeth would lead the way, which the other as politely and more earnestly negatived, she seated herself.

Mrs. Hurst sang with her sister, and while they were thus employed, Mr. Darcy watched Miss Elizabeth as she turned over some music books that lay on the instrument.

After playing some Italian songs, Miss Bingley varied the charm by a lively Scotch air. After listening a moment, Darcy realized that this was an opportunity to make amends for his slight at the assembly. Drawing near to Miss Elizabeth, he said,

"Do not you feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an opportunity of dancing a reel?"

She smiled, but made no answer. Surprised at her silence, he repeated the question.

"Oh!" said she, "I heard you before; but I could not immediately determine what to say in reply. You wanted me, I know, to say 'Yes,' that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste; but I always delight in overthrowing those kind of schemes, and cheating a person of their premeditated contempt. I have therefore made up my mind to tell you that I do not want to dance a reel at all--and now despise me if you dare."

"Indeed I do not dare."

Darcy was puzzled by her reply. Contempt? Despising? Why would she expect him to feel those for her? Of course she was teasing, she could not mean it. Normally he would have been affronted by her impertinence. Indeed, she seemed amazed that he was not. But there was a mixture of sweetness and archness in her manner which made it difficult for her to affront anybody; and Darcy had never been so bewitched by any woman as he was by her. He really believed, that were it not for the inferiority of her connections, he should be in some danger.

Chapter 8

The next day, Miss Bennet was much improved and, after dinner, Miss Elizabeth attended her into the drawing room well guarded from cold. Upon joining the ladies, Darcy addressed Miss Bennet with a polite congratulation; Mr. Hurst also made her a slight bow, and said he was "very glad;" but diffuseness and warmth remained for Bingley's salutation. He was full of joy and attention. The first half-hour was spent in piling up the fire, lest she should suffer from the change of room; and she removed at his desire to the other side of the fireplace, that she might be farther from the door. He then sat down by her, and talked scarcely to any one else. Darcy looked on with amusement for a moment and then took up a book.

After a few minutes, Miss Bingley informed everyone of the book she had chosen. Darcy sighed, realizing that it was the second volume of his own. He hoped she would actually read it and leave him to read his. It was to be. Her attention was quite as much engaged in watching Darcy's progress through his book, as in reading her own; and she was perpetually either making some inquiry, or looking at his page. Darcy did not let her win him, however, to any conversation; he merely answered her question, and read on. At length, she gave a great yawn and said, "How pleasant it is to spend an evening in this way! I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of any thing than of a book!? When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library."

No one made any reply. She then yawned again, threw aside her book, and cast her eyes round the room in quest of some amusement; when, hearing her brother mentioning a ball to Miss Bennet, she turned suddenly towards him and said,

"By the bye, Charles, are you really serious in meditating a dance at Netherfield?--I would advise you, before you determine on it, to consult the wishes of the present party; I am much mistaken if there are not some among us to whom a ball would be rather a punishment than a pleasure."

"If you mean Darcy," cried her brother, "he may go to bed, if he chooses, before it begins--but as for the ball, it is quite a settled thing."

Darcy did not appreciate Miss Bingley's efforts in his behalf. He discovered that he actually found the idea of a ball quite pleasing. It would give him another opportunity to convince Miss Elizabeth to dance with him.

Soon afterwards, Miss Bingley got up and walked about the room. Darcy knew it was all aimed at him but remained inflexibly studious until she turned to Miss Elizabeth and said,

"Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my example, and take a turn about the room.--I assure you it is very refreshing after sitting so long in one attitude."

Miss Elizabeth agreed to it immediately, not a little surprised. Darcy looked up, as much awake to the novelty of attention in that quarter as Miss Elizabeth could be, and unconsciously closed his book. He was directly invited to join their party, but he declined it, observing,

"I can imagine but two motives for your choosing to walk up and down the room together, with either of which motives my joining you would interfere."

"What could he mean?" exclaimed Miss Bingley. "Can you at all understand him, Miss Eliza?"

"Not at all," was her answer; "but depend upon it, he means to be severe on us, and our surest way of disappointing him will be to ask nothing about it."

For once, Darcy hoped Miss Bingley would not disappoint him as apparently Miss Elizabeth would not ask. He was not disappointed and Miss Bingley persevered in requiring an explanation of his two motives.

"I have not the smallest objection to explaining them," said he, as soon as she allowed him to speak. "You either chose this method of passing the evening because you are in each other's confidence, and have secret affairs to discuss, or because you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in walking;--if the first, I should be completely in your way;--and if the second, I can admire you much better as I sit by the fire."

"Oh! shocking!" cried Miss Bingley. "I never heard any thing so abominable. How shall we punish him for such a speech?"

"Nothing so easy, if you have but the inclination," said Miss Elizabeth. "We can all plague and punish one another. Tease him? Laugh at him.? Intimate as you are, you must know how it is to be done."

"But upon my honour I do not. I do assure you that my intimacy has not yet taught me that. Tease calmness of temper and presence of mind! No, no? I feel he may defy us there. And as to laughter, we will not expose ourselves, if you please, by attempting to laugh without a subject."

Darcy was wishing, much to his surprise, that Miss Elizabeth would tease him, but was relieved that Miss Bingley would not.

"Mr. Darcy is not to be laughed at!" cried Miss Elizabeth. "That is an uncommon advantage, and uncommon I hope it will continue, for it would be a great loss to me to have many such acquaintance. I dearly love a laugh."

"Miss Bingley," said he, "has given me credit for more than can be. The wisest and the best of men, nay, the wisest and best of their actions, may be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first object in life is a joke."

"Certainly," replied Miss Elizabeth--"there are such people, but I hope I am not one of them. I hope I never ridicule what is wise or good. Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies do divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can.--But these, I suppose, are precisely what you are without."

"Perhaps that is not possible for any one. But it has been the study of my life to avoid those weaknesses which often expose a strong understanding to ridicule."

"Such as vanity and pride."

"Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride? Where there is a real superiority of mind, pride will be always under good regulation."

Miss Elizabeth turned away.

"Your examination of Mr. Darcy is over, I presume," said Miss Bingley;- "and pray what is the result?"

"I am perfectly convinced by it that Mr. Darcy has no defect. He owns it himself without disguise."

"No"--said Darcy, enjoying himself very much, "I have made no such pretension. I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for.--It is I believe too little yielding- certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of others so soon as I ought, nor their offenses against myself. My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful.--My good opinion once lost is lost for ever."

"That is a failing indeed!" cried Miss Elizabeth. "Implacable resentment is a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well.--I really cannot laugh at it; you are safe from me."

"There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil, a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome."

"And your defect is a propensity to hate every body."

"And yours," he replied with a smile, "is willfully to misunderstand them."

"Do let us have a little music," cried Miss Bingley, putting an end to the conversation.

Darcy felt a small pang of regret even though the conversation had become a fierce argument. He considered the exchange and could not quite make it out. If he considered only her words, it seemed as though Miss Elizabeth greatly disliked him, but her manner was so easy, playful, and unaffected that that could not be. Was she teasing him? She must be. A few minutes before he had been wishing it but now the thought made him distinctly uncomfortable. He began to be afraid that she would get the wrong idea about his intentions and, to understand the danger of paying her too much attention.

Chapter 9

The next morning it was decided that the Miss Bennets would return home the following day. Bingley heard with real sorrow that they were to go so soon, and repeatedly tried to persuade Miss Bennet that it would not be safe for her--that she was not enough recovered, but the plan was held to.

To Darcy it was welcome intelligence--Miss Elizabeth attracted him more than he liked--and Miss Bingley was uncivil to her and more teasing than usual to himself. He resolved to be particularly careful that no sign of admiration should now escape him, nothing that could elevate her with he hope of influencing his felicity; sensible that if such an idea had been suggested, his behavior during the last day must have material weight in confirming or crushing it.

Through all of Saturday, Darcy was steady to his purpose and avoided Miss Elizabeth. He spoke scarcely ten words to her al day. There was only one instance when he almost lost his resolve.

In the afternoon, he was alone, reading in the library, when Miss Elizabeth came in. He hoped she would leave when she discovered he was alone, but she did not. Instead she selected a book and sat down near him to read.

Darcy did not look at her but adhered most consistently to his book. He did not however, comprehend a word he read. Miss Elizabeth remained in the library above half an hour and Darcy was acutely aware of her presence the entire time. When she finally left, Darcy breathed a sigh of relief and then went for a ride to clear his head.

That evening, Darcy did not join the party in the drawing room and was much relieved to see the Miss Bennets depart in the morning. The relief, however, did not last long for he soon discovered that he missed Miss Elizabeth. Therefore, when Bingley suggested, a few days later, that they call at Longbourn to inquire after Miss Bennet, Darcy readily agreed.

They did not make it to Longbourn for on riding through Meryton, Bingley distinguished four of the Miss Bennets conversing with one of the officers and a few other gentlemen. Darcy and Bingley rode directly over and began the usual civilities. Bingley was the principal spokesman and Miss Bennet the principal object.

Darcy was just beginning to determine not to fix his eyes on Miss Elizabeth when they were suddenly arrested by a much less pleasant sight, a demon from the past, Mr. Wickham.

Darcy felt his anger rise as he glared at Wickham. The two stared at each other for a few moments until Wickham touched his hat in greeting. Darcy nodded curtly then abruptly turned his horse and rode off a ways to wait for Bingley.

Wickham! What was Wickham doing here? Darcy had hoped never to see him again. Yet here he was and he was probably enjoying Miss Elizabeth Bennet's fine eyes and pleasant conversation. But, why was he here of all places? Darcy knew it would not be beyond Wickham to come there for the soul purpose of tormenting him but, he had clearly been as surprised by the encounter as Darcy was.

"Darcy," said Bingley, who by this time, had come up with him, "why did you ride off so suddenly like that?"

"Were you introduced to Mr. Wickham?" Darcy asked as calmly as he could manage.

"Yes," replied Bingley, oblivious to Darcy's distress, "he seemed to be a very pleasant gentleman. Do you know him?"

"Yes. He is the son of my father's steward. Don't trust him Bingley, his pleasant manners are deceptive."

"What happened? I remember now hearing of him before. I thought you were friends."

"We were, as boys, and my father was his patron. But he abused the trust we placed in him in the most vicious way." That was an understatement. Vicious did not even begin to describe what he had done to Georgiana. Bingley started to ask another question but Darcy cut him off. "Please don't ask me anything else, Bingley." He then spurred his horse and galloped back to Netherfield leaving a confused Bingley behind.

Over the next few days, Darcy determined to discover what Wickham was doing in Meryton. He soon discovered that he had taken a commission in the militia. This information was not to Darcy's liking. It meant Wickham was there to stay, for awhile at least. Even worse, he discovered that Wickham was quite a favourite with the Miss Bennets. After a half hour spent in great anxiety over Miss Elizabeth's safety, however, he realized that she was too respectable to fall victim to his lust and too poor to be an object of his mercenary tendencies.

Chapter 10

Posted on Wednesday, 27 June 2001

Bingley's ball was soon fixed for the following Tuesday. he sent round his cards, went to Longbourn to personally invite the Bennets, and issued a general invitation to the officers of the regiment. Darcy looked forward to seeing Miss Elizabeth and hoped to be able to get her to dance with him. He also hoped Wickham would have discretion enough to stay away.

The ball arrived and much to Darcy's relief, Wickham did not arrive with the other officers. The Bennets soon arrived and Miss Elizabeth looked exceptionally well. He watched her as she moved about the room greeting her friends and acquaintances. She was joined by one of the officers and during their brief exchange they both glanced in his direction more than once. They must be talking about him and the thought made him somewhat uneasy.

Once the officer had left, Darcy approached to greet her himself.

"It is a pleasure to see you this evening Miss Bennet. I hope you have been well since we last met."

"Yes, thank you, Mr. Darcy," she replied curtly, then turned on her heel and walked away.

Darcy was surprised by this and wondered as he watched her join her friend Miss Lucas, if that officer had said something to upset her.

The dancing soon commenced and Darcy watched as Miss Elizabeth was led to the set by a pompous young clergyman. Darcy had heard that such a young man, a cousin, he believed, was staying with the Bennets. Miss Elizabeth's dancing was graceful but she was having difficulty with her partner. He moved awkwardly and often wrong, and his manner seemed to be solemn and apologetic. Miss Elizabeth appeared mortified and miserable and finally much relieved when the two dances were over. Darcy felt for her and hoped she would not have to dance with the man again.

She next danced with an officer, a much pleasanter experience for her, as well as for Darcy to watch. After this dance she joined Miss Lucas and Darcy decided the time had come to follow his resolution and ask her to dance. He approached the young ladies and made the application. Miss Elizabeth appeared surprised but quickly accepted. Not knowing what else to say, Darcy walked away again immediately to await the two dances.

When the dancing recommenced, Darcy finally claimed her hand and led her to the set. He longed to talk but, not knowing what to say they stood for some time without speaking a word. After several minutes, Miss Elizabeth made some slight observation on the dance. He replied, and was again silent. He was enjoying dancing with her very much but the silence was beginning to be awkward when she addressed him a second time with:

"It is your turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy.--I talked about the dance, and you ought to make some kind of remark on the size of the room, or the number of couples."

He smiled, and said, "I shall say whatever you wish me to."

"Very well.--That reply will do for the present.--Perhaps by and by I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones.--But now we may be silent."

"Do you talk by rule then, while you are dancing?"

"Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know. It would look odd to be entirely silent for half an hour together, and yet for the advantage of some, conversation ought to be so arranged as that they may have the trouble of saying as little as possible."

"Are you consulting your own feelings in the present case, or do you imagine that you are gratifying mine?"

"Both," replied Miss Elizabeth archly; "for I have always seen a great similarity in the turn of our minds.--We are each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say something that will amaze the whole room, and be handed down to posterity with all the eclat of a proverb."

"This is no very striking resemblance of your own character, I am sure," said he. "How near it may be to mine, I cannot pretend to say.--You think it a faithful portrait undoubtedly."

"I must not decide on my own performance."

He made no answer, and they were again silent till they had gone down the dance, when he asked, "Do you and your sisters walk very often into Meryton?"

"Yes," she replied. "When you met us there the other day, we had just been forming a new acquaintance."

He knew she meant Wickham and instantly felt himself colour in anger but could not speak. Miss Elizabeth said no more and, at length, Darcy said in a constrained manner,

"Mr. Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure his making friends--whether he may be equally capable of retaining them, is less certain."

"He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship," replied Miss Elizabeth with emphasis, "and in a manner which he is likely to suffer from all his life."

Darcy made no answer, and wished desperately to change the subject. At that moment Sir William Lucas appeared close to them, meaning to pass through the set to the other side of the room; but on perceiving Darcy he stopped with a bow of superior courtesy, to compliment him on his dancing and his partner.

"I have been most highly gratified indeed, my dear Sir. Such very superior dancing is not often seen. It is evident that you belong to the first circles. Allow me to say, however, that your fair partner does not disgrace you, and that I must hope to have this pleasure often repeated, especially when a certain desirable event, my dear Miss Eliza (glancing at her sister and Bingley), shall take place."

The rest of this address was scarcely heard by Darcy. Sir William's allusion to his friend struck him forcibly, and his eyes were directed with a very serious expression towards Bingley and Miss Bennet, who were dancing together. So a marriage was expected between them. He would have to watch them carefully. Recovering himself, he turned to his partner, and said,

"Sir William's interruption has made me forget what we were talking of." This was not true but he did not wish to pursue that topic and hoped Miss Elizabeth would take the hint.

"I do not think we were speaking at all. Sir William could not have interrupted any two people in the room who had less to say for themselves.--We have tried two or three subjects already without
success, and what we are to talk of next I cannot imagine."

"What think you of books?" said he with a smile, remembering their conversation while she was staying at Netherfield.

"Books--Oh! no.--I am sure we never read the same, or not with the same feelings."

"I am sorry you think so; but if that be the case, there can at least be no want of subject.--We may compare our different opinions."

"No--I cannot talk of books in a ball-room; my head is always full of something else."

"The present always occupies you in such scenes--does it?" said he, doubtingly.

"Yes, always," she replied absently then suddenly exclaimed, "I remember hearing you once say, Mr. Darcy, that you hardly ever forgave, that your resentment once created was unappeasable. You are very cautious, I suppose, as to its being created ."

"I am," said he, with a firm voice, wondering what she was getting at.

"And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?"

"I hope not."

"It is particularly incumbent on those who never change their opinion, to be secure of judging properly at first."

"May I ask to what these questions tend?"

"Merely to the illustration of your character," said she. "I am trying to make it out."

This made his uncomfortable, but, unable to resist, he asked, "And what is your success?"

She shook her head. "I do not get on at all. I hear such different accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly."

He knew she was again referring to Wickham, and gravely replied, "I can readily believe, that report may vary greatly with respect to me; and I could wish, Miss Bennet, that you were not to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason to fear that the performance would reflect no credit on either."

"But if I do not take your likeness now, I may never have another opportunity."

He was disappointed by this response and coldly replied, "I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours." She said no more, and they went down the other dance and parted in silence.

Darcy was dissatisfied. The dance had been nothing like he had hoped. Wickham had obviously been telling her lies. At first, he was angry with her for allowing herself to be taken in, but he soon secured her pardon and directed all his anger towards the truly guilty party. How could he blame her for being taken in when his own father and sister had been deceived by him. And surely she would heed his warnings.

While he was in the midst of these reflections, Darcy was approached by the clergyman who had danced the first dances with Miss Elizabeth. Much to Darcy's surprise, the man made a low solemn bow and proceeded to introduce himself.

"Mr. Darcy," he began, "you must allow me to apologize for thus addressing you, but I'm sure you will pardon me when I tell you that I have just discovered that you are the nephew of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. I am William Collins and have the great privilege of serving under the patronage of that noble lady. I could not let this fortunate opportunity of paying my respects to of her relations and to most sincerely assure you that her ladyship and her daughter were quite well yesterday se'night."

Darcy eyed the man and no longer wondered at Miss Elizabeth's mortification while dancing with him. The man was pompous, conceited, filled with false humility, and stupid. When Mr. Collins finally allowed him to speak, Darcy gave him the briefest reply possible with an air of distant civility. Mr. Collins then began on a string of praises on Lady Catherine. When he finally finished, Darcy made a slight bow, and moved another way. Mr. Collins was going to make Darcy's annual visits to his aunt even more unpleasant than they already were, but he was not in the least surprised that Lady Catherine would have chosen such a man as her parson.

Shortly after this the dancing was adjourned for supper. Darcy intended to use that time to observe Bingley and Miss Bennet. He was not, however, seated near them and was, instead, seated directly across from Miss Elizabeth and her mother. Mrs. Bennet's discourse was all of her expectations of a marriage between Bingley and her eldest daughter. Miss Elizabeth endeavored to check her mother but in vain and Darcy noticed that she glanced at him several times in shame and vexation. He wished he could help her but knew not how.

Before long she was in even deeper mortification when her sister Mary had begun to play and sing at the piano-forte. Miss Mary's powers were by no means fitted for such a display; her voice was weak and her manner affected. Miss Elizabeth appeared to be in agonies, especially when her sister began a second song. When this was finished she was prevented from attempting a third by her father, who said, loud enough for many to hear, "That will do extremely well, child. You have delighted us long enough. Let the other young ladies have time to exhibit." Darcy was relieved she would play no more but was struck by the impropriety of Mr. Bennet's methods. He hoped perhaps Miss Elizabeth would play now but, she did not.

The table next had the misfortune of being graced by a long speech from Mr. Collins. When this was at last over, Mrs. Bennet began to prattle on again. Her subject was still marriage but this time the object was Miss Elizabeth and Mr. Collins. Darcy felt his stomach drop when he heard this. The idea that Miss Elizabeth could be the wife of that man was inconceivable. He knew she could never be happy with him.

After supper was over, Darcy divided his time between observing Miss Elizabeth and Mr. Collins and Bingley and Miss Bennet. Mr. Collins was excessively attentive to Miss Elizabeth but much to Darcy's relief she did not seem at all pleased about it. He did not think she would be prevailed on to marry against her will.

Darcy was not so pleased with observations of Bingley and Miss Bennet. Bingley was obviously very much in love, more so than Darcy had ever seen him before. However, it was equally obvious that Miss Bennet was not. She displayed no symptom of peculiar regard, and though she received Bingley's attentions with pleasure, she did not invite them by any participation of sentiment. And Darcy realized, unlike Miss Elizabeth, Miss Bennet would probably be persuaded by her mother to marry him. He would have to think of some way to free Bingley of this trap.

When all the guests had gone, Darcy retired to his room declining to discuss the ball with the Bingley's and the Hursts. He had too much to think about.

After much thought on Bingley's situation, Darcy concluded that he must endeavor to separate them. The match would be most disadvantageous to Bingley. Miss Bennet had no fortune, low connections, and most important of all, her immediate family, save for Miss Elizabeth, suffered from a most appalling lack of propriety. If there was mutual affection all this would be nothing. Miss Bennet was a fine young woman, almost the equal of Miss Elizabeth. But without it, Bingley would end up ridiculous and miserable.

Bingley was obliged to go to London in the morning for a few days. Darcy decided that once he was gone he would speak with his sisters. He was sure they opposed the match as much as he did. He would convince them to follow Bingley to town and to keep him there.

Once he had this matter settled, Darcy allowed his thoughts to wander and they soon settled on Miss Elizabeth. As he thought of her, he came to a startling realization. He was in love with her, deeply in love, and had been for some time. What was he to do? He couldn't marry her. All the objections to a match between Bingley and Miss Bennet applied in even greater force in his own case. It was now even more important that he leave Hertfordshire. He had to forget Elizabeth Bennet.

Chapter 11

Posted on Wednesday, 1 August 2001

Bingley's sisters agreed most readily to Darcy's plan and almost before he knew it he found himself in London. Bingley was staying in Darcy's town house and was quite surprised to see them. Though his arrival was unexpected and the house was not prepared for him, Darcy was quite happy to be home. It was especially nice to send Miss Bingley and the Hursts to the Hurst town house after dinner. These pleasures were somewhat tempered, however, by the prospect of the talk he had to have with Bingley.

Bingley saved Darcy the trouble of beginning the subject by inquiring, as they sat down to port in the library.

"So, tell me Darcy, why have you come to town? I was planning on returning to Netherfield in two day. Couldn't you get on without me? Or did you think I couldn't get on without you? That is more likely, you know."

Darcy did know it and was depending on it. "No, nothing like that, Bingley," he replied, "we just decided it was time for us all to come back to town. You know I have to join Georgiana at Pemberley soon."

"Yes, but surely you could have waited for me to return. You know, I promised Mrs. Bennet I would dine with them when I returned."

Darcy shifted slightly in his seat. "Umm, about Miss Bennet."

"Yes, what about her?" asked Bingley brightening.

"Well, what are your intentions towards her, Bingley?"

"Isn't her father supposed to ask that?" laughed Bingley.

"I'm serious, Bingley," Darcy said gravely. "What are your intentions?"

Bingley beamed as he replied, "I am going to ask her to marry me."

Bingley was so happy at the prospect that Darcy almost changed his mind. But the pain Bingley would feel at his disappointment now, would be less than the pain he would eventually feel in a marriage where the affection was all on his side.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. Why?" said Bingley suddenly suspicious.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Bingley, but she does not love you."

"You must be mistaken. I'm sure she does."

"No, I'm sorry. I watched you at the ball and the affection is all on your side."

Pain flickered across Bingley's face but after only a few moments a glimmer of hope appeared.

"Perhaps you are wrong. If you are right she will refuse me."

"I'm not wrong, Bingley. And you must realize her mother would never allow her to refuse. If you love her you cannot desire her to be forced into a marriage she does not want."

Bingley sat in stunned silence for a few moments, then whispered, "Are you sure she does not love me?"

"Yes," said Darcy firmly and without hesitation. He watched as Bingley visibly deflated. After several minutes of silence, Bingley said in a rather strangled voice,

"Thank you, Darcy. If you do not mind I shall retire now."

"No, of course not. Good night, Bingley."

Bingley mumbled his own good night and left the room completely dejected.

Darcy felt awful as he sipped his port and contemplated the encounter, but it was for the best. It had gone as well as could be expected. Bingley had not been difficult to convince. He was rather despondent now, but that was to be expected. Bingley had been in these situations before and was always his usual self after a day or two. It would probably take a bit longer this time, but, surely it wouldn't be long before another pretty girl caught his eye.

Darcy decided he would have to make sure they had plenty of engagements over the next few weeks. As much as he disliked the prospect, it would do them both good and help them to forget the last few weeks in Hertfordshire.

Over the next few weeks, Darcy watched Bingley carefully. He was morose for a time but soon seemed to improve. He was as agreeable as ever though perhaps not quite as cheerful. By the time Darcy was to leave for Pemberley to join Georgiana for Christmas, he was confident that Bingley would be his old self before long.

Darcy was not doing so well himself. Try as he might he could not forget Miss Elizabeth. He thought of her every day and often dreamt of her at night. He tried to interest himself in other women but, the qualities he had always despised in London's society ladies were only emphasized by a comparison to Miss Elizabeth. He was looking forward to his escape to Pemberley. Perhaps devoting himself to Georgiana would help him forget.

Chapter 12

Miss Georgiana Darcy was a very pretty girl of sixteen. Her mother had died when she was little more than an infant and her father had followed five years ago. Since that time she had been under the guardianship of her brother and her cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam. Unfortunately, the young men were not always able to be with her and she spent a great deal of time alone in London or at Pemberley with only the lady who superintended her education. All these factors, together with a dose of the Darcy reserve, had made her extremely shy. She had a tendency to blend into her surroundings and she could hardly ever be prevailed on to talk even to those she knew well. The only people with whom she felt truly comfortable were her brother, cousin, and her companion, Mrs. Annesley. All this had been made worse by the debacle with Mr. Wickham the summer before.

Darcy hoped to bring Georgiana out into society in a year or two but knew that would be impossible if she did not overcome a great deal of her shyness. He planned to bring her out of her shell this winter and hoped that endeavor would provide the distraction he need to forget Miss Elizabeth.

When Darcy returned to Pemberley for Christmas, it had been several months since Georgiana had seen him. The first order of business, as always, was to review her progress in her studies. Georgiana was a diligent scholar and Darcy was pleased with her work. Afterwards she showed him her latest drawings and played for him on the pianoforte. She had improved in these activities as well and Darcy planned to draw her out by encouraging her in them.

Soon they sat down to tea and Darcy asked about what Georgiana had been doing since they had last seen each other. When that topic was exhausted, Georgiana said,

"Now, Fitz, tell me about you. How was your stay at Mr. Bingley's new estate?"

Darcy did not want to talk about that and answered in a guarded voice, "Netherfield is lovely but the neighborhood was rather dull. We went to a few parties and assemblies but the people were are quite provincial. They are nothing to the set we are used to in London." He hoped she would drop the subject but it was not to be and she instead took it in a direction he most certainly did not want to go.

"What of the young lady you wrote me about?"

Darcy involuntarily stiffened. "What young lady?" he replied, though he knew perfectly well to whom she referred.

"The one who stayed at Netherfield while her sister was ill. You said she was quite lively and seemed to like her."

"Yes," he replied hoping desperately that he would not betray anything. "Perhaps she and her sister were a cut above the rest [this sounds too modern to me can you think of another way to say it] but their family was dreadful."

"Oh." Georgiana realized her brother was not in a talkative mood and dropped the subject. Darcy was relieved and hoped Georgiana had not noticed his agitation at the mention of Miss Elizabeth. He would never be able to forget if Georgiana had taken an interest in her.

Darcy and Georgiana spent a quiet Christmas as they always did since their father had died. They remained at Pemberley for some weeks afterwards. Darcy needed to catch up on estate business and visit his tenants. The rest of his time was spent devoted to Georgiana. In this way, he soon began to think less and less of Miss Elizabeth and luckily Georgiana did not mention her again. At the end of January, Darcy returned to town taking Georgiana with him.

One of the first things Darcy did upon his arrival was to catch up on the London papers. He found himself searching the society section. He was not even consciously aware of what he was looking for until he found it; a wedding announcement from a few weeks back:

Miss Charlotte Lucas, daughter of Sir William and Lady Lucas of Hertfordshire to the Reverend Mr. William Collins of Kent.

Darcy was surprised. It had been quite obvious at the Netherfield ball that Mr. Collins had been paying court to Miss Elizabeth. Darcy was relieved that she had not been prevailed on to marry the man but wondered how Miss Lucas had come to marry him instead. He barely knew the new Mrs. Collins but from what he had observed she seemed quite sensible. He doubted she would be very happy with such a silly man but it was undoubtedly a lucky for him. It would be interesting to see how they got on when he visited Lady Catherine at Easter.

Darcy was also surprised to find that he had not ceased to think of Miss Elizabeth but had merely pushed thoughts of her to the back of his mind. He would have to redouble his efforts.

A couple of weeks later, the Bingleys and Hursts came to dine at the Darcy town house. Almost as soon as they were in the house, Miss Bingley whispered to Darcy that she had an important matter to discuss with him in private. Darcy did not want a private conference with Miss Bingley but she was insistent and he took her to his study being careful to leave the door open.

"Mr. Darcy," she began, "a most unfortunate event has occurred. Jane Bennet is in town." The mention of Miss Bennet instantly brought her sister to the front of Darcy's thoughts and he had to struggle to comprehend the rest of Miss Bingley's speech. "I never answered her letters informing me of her plans and arrival but today she called on Louisa and myself. My Darcy, you must tell me what to do."

Darcy considered carefully. Bingley was doing well now, but Darcy was by no means certain that he could withstand seeing Miss Bennet.

"Did your brother see her?"

"No, he was out."

"Where is she staying?"

"With some of her low relatives in Cheapside."

Darcy sighed at her unnecessary distress and urgency and suspected that it was at least partially staged for his benefit.

"There is no need to distress yourself, Miss Bingley," said he, "your brother is never in that part of town and he need never know she is in London. You do not even need to drop the acquaintance if you take a little care about when she calls."

Miss Bingley expressed a few more concerns but Darcy soon reassured her and escorted her back to the drawing-room.

That evening, when he had time to reflect, Darcy began to feel uneasy about this recent turn of events. Perhaps concealing Miss Bennet's presence in London from Bingley was high-handed. But it was done now and was done for the best.

When he had made himself comfortable on this point, Darcy turned his reflections to the disturbance of his own equanimity. The mere mention of Miss Bennet had brought all the attractions and perfections of Miss Elizabeth flooding back into his mind and heart. Despite all his efforts to forget her, he had merely learned to think of her less and he was as much in love with her as ever.

Chapter 13

Posted on Sunday, 5 August 2001

The next few months passed rather uneventfully and it was soon time for Darcy to travel into Kent to visit Lady Catherine. Darcy decided to take his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, with him.

Darcy's visits with Lady Catherine were never very pleasant. She was authoritative and demanding, considered herself an expert on everything, and talked so much that no one else could. The house was gaudy and uncomfortable. And, worst of all, she had always planned for Darcy to marry her daughter, Anne. Anne was sickly, thin, and sallow, and, though not shy like Georgiana, she was timid in the presence of her mother. Darcy liked her well enough, she was certainly better company than Lady Catherine, but he had absolutely no intention of marrying her and he knew she felt the same. Lady Catherine's expectations always left them both feeling uncomfortable.

Darcy's design in bringing Fitzwilliam was to deflect some of the attention from himself. Fitzwilliam did not mind. He was also expected at Rosings Park for an annual visit and both young men found it easier to visit together giving them more leisure to enjoy the only pleasant aspect of Rosings, it's beautiful extensive ground.

The two cousins left for Rosings the Monday before Easter with plans to arrive in time for dinner. Darcy and Fitzwilliam were great friends and they enjoyed pleasant conversation on the journey. Darcy soon found himself talking of Miss Elizabeth. This surprised him. His feelings for her had not changed and he no longer tried to deceive himself on that point, but he no longer struggled to control his thoughts of her and had not thought of her in several days. Now he had begun speaking of her before he even realized she was on his mind. When he realized what he was doing he became anxious that he may have revealed to the Colonel feelings that he dared not reveal to anyone. Reviewing exactly what he had said, however, he was convinced that he had spoken moderately and revealed nothing more than a slight admiration.

Darcy decided he must turn the conversation before he said too much. He told Fitzwilliam, though without mentioning any names, about how he had rescued Bingley from Miss Bennet. This also served to remind him of why he must forget about Miss Elizabeth.

They arrived at Rosings in good time and were greeted most cordially by Lady Catherine. After dinner they had to endure a lengthy discourse on the concerns of the neighborhood. She soon came to the Collinses and after detailing all their affairs, added,

"They are currently entertaining visitors, Mrs. Collins' young sister and a friend of hers, who is also Mr. Collins' cousin, a rather pretty, gentile sort of girl, Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

Darcy started and heard nothing more. Elizabeth! Miss Elizabeth was in Kent, in Hunsford. This must be why he had been thinking of her all day. Somehow, he must have sensed that she was nearby. What was he going to do? This would be a major set back in his attempts to move past her.

Colonel Fitzwilliam observed his cousin closely at this extraordinary piece of information. For, though Darcy believed he had revealed nothing, his glowing description of Miss Elizabeth had indeed rendered the Colonel suspicious. Darcy's reaction to the news that Miss Elizabeth was currently residing in the neighborhood confirmed everything. The Colonel was now convinced that his austere, reserved, cousin was actually in love with this Miss Bennet. Fitzwilliam was delighted with the prospect and was anxious to meet that extraordinary lady.

The next morning, Mr. Collins called early to pay his respects to Darcy and Fitzwilliam. Marriage had not improved him, he was exactly as Darcy remembered. Fitzwilliam, however, seemed to find him very amusing.

Darcy wanted to be in company again with Miss Elizabeth and to that end suggested that they call on the ladies at the parsonage. The Colonel most readily agreed. Mr. Collins was surprised and extremely profuse in both his own and his wife's thanks.

When they arrived at the parsonage, Darcy paid his compliments to Mrs. Collins and was somehow able to meet Miss Elizabeth with composure. She merely curtseyed to him without saying a word. He could think of nothing to say to her and contented himself to simply look at her. She was as lovely as ever. He made a slight observation on the house and garden to Mrs. Collins and then listened to the Colonel's conversation with Miss Elizabeth. At length he roused himself enough to enquire after her family. She answered him in the usual way and, after a moments pause, added,

"My eldest sister has been in town these three months. Have you never happened to see her there?"

Darcy felt some consciousness as to what he had done concerning Miss Bennets being in London, but after a moment's confusion, he answered, "No, I have not been so fortunate as to meet Miss Bennet." the subject was pursued no farther and Darcy and Miss Elizabeth did not exchange another word save for polite farewells when the gentlemen returned to Rosings.

Colonel Fitzwilliam visited the parsonage several times during the next week but Darcy could not bring himself to go back. His one visit there had proven unsatisfactory. He could not fathom why he was unable to speak with Miss Elizabeth and upon reflection he decided that perhaps it was best not to seek out her company. The Colonel always invited him along and seemed perplexed when he refused.

The next time Darcy saw Miss Elizabeth was in church. He was usually most attentive in church but today he could remember nothing of Mr. Collins' sermon. After the service, Lady Catherine invited the family from the parsonage to take tea with them that evening and the invitation was readily accepted. Despite all his efforts to convince himself otherwise, Darcy was pleased that Miss Elizabeth would be coming.

Chapter 14

When the party arrived, Darcy could not understand why Lady Catherine had invited them. She received them civilly but then proceeded to pay them very little attention. She spoke to himself more than any other person in the room. Colonel Fitzwilliam seated himself by Miss Elizabeth, and since attention was not necessary when conversing with his aunt, Darcy listened jealously to their conversation. They talked of Kent and Hertfordshire, of travelling and staying at home, of new books and music. They conversed with so much spirit and flow, as to even draw the attention of Lady Catherine did not scruple to call out,

"What is that you are saying, Fitzwilliam? What is it you are talking of? What are you telling Miss Bennet? Let me hear what it is."

"We are speaking of music, Madam," said he, when no longer able to avoid a reply.

"Of music! Then pray speak aloud. It is of all subjects my delight. I must have my share in the conversation, if you are speaking of music. There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true enjoyment of music than myself, or a better natural taste. If I had ever learnt, I should have been a great proficient. And so would Anne, if her health had allowed her to apply. I am confident that she would have performed delightfully. How does Georgiana get on, Darcy?"

Darcy spoke with affectionate praise of his sister's proficiency.

"I am very glad to hear such a good account of her," said Lady Catherine; "and pray tell her from me, that she cannot expect to excel, if she does not practice a great deal."

"I assure you, Madam," he replied, "that she does not need such advice. She practices very constantly."

"So much the better. It cannot be done too much; and when I next write to her, I shall charge her not to neglect it on any account. I often tell young ladies, that no excellence in music is to be acquired, without constant practice. I have told Miss Bennet several times, that she will never play really well, unless she practices more; and though Mrs. Collins has no instrument, she is very welcome, as I have often told her, to come to Rosings every day, and play on the piano forte in Mrs Jenkinson's room. She would be in nobody's way, you know, in that part of the house."

Darcy made no answer and was quite ashamed of his aunt's ill breeding.

When coffee was over, Colonel Fitzwilliam reminded Miss Elizabeth of having promised to play to him; and she sat down directly to the instrument. He drew a chair near her. Lady Catherine listened to half a song, and then talked, as before, to Darcy. He felt her rudeness to Miss Elizabeth most keenly, and really wishing to listen himself, walked away from her, and moving with deliberation towards the piano forte, stationed himself so as to command a full view of the fair performer's countenance. Miss Elizabeth noticed what he was doing, and at the first convenient pause, turned to him with an arch smile, and said,

"You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me? But I will not be alarmed though your sister does play so well. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate me."

"I shall not say that you are mistaken," he replied, "because you could not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming you; and I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long enough to know, that you find great enjoyment in occasionally professing opinions which in fact are not your own."

Miss Elizabeth laughed heartily, and said to Colonel Fitzwilliam, "Your cousin will give you a very pretty notion of me, and teach you not to believe a word I say. I am particularly unlucky in meeting with a person so well able to expose my real character, in a part of the world where I had hoped to pass myself off with some degree of credit. Indeed, Mr. Darcy, it is very ungenerous in you to mention all that you knew to my disadvantage in Hertfordshire--and, give me leave to say, very impolitic too--for it is provoking me to retaliate, and such things may come out, as will shock your relations to hear."

"I am not afraid of you," said he, smilingly.

"Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of," cried Colonel Fitzwilliam. "I should like to know how he behaves among strangers."

Darcy glared at Fitzwilliam, but really wished to know what she would say.

"You shall hear then--but prepare yourself for something very dreadful. The first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire, you must know, was at a ball--and at this ball, what do you think he did? He danced only four dances! I am sorry to pain you--but so it was. He danced only four dances, though gentlemen were scarce; and, to my certain knowledge, more than one young lady was sitting down in want of a partner. Mr. Darcy, you cannot deny the fact."

"I had not at that time the honour of knowing any lady in the assembly beyond my own party."

"True; and nobody can ever be introduced in a ball room. Well, Colonel Fitzwilliam, what do I play next? My fingers wait your orders."

But Darcy was not ready to let the subject drop, however. He had to let her know that he was sorry. "Perhaps," said he, "I should have judged better, had I sought an introduction, but I am ill qualified to recommend myself to strangers."

"Shall we ask your cousin the reason of this?" said Miss Elizabeth, still addressing Colonel Fitzwilliam. "Shall we ask him why a man of sense and education, and who has lived in the world, is ill qualified to recommend himself to strangers?"

"I can answer your question," said Fitzwilliam, "without applying to him. It is because he will not give himself the trouble."

"I certainly have not the talent which some people possess," said Darcy, "of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done."

"My fingers," said Miss Elizabeth, "do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women's do. They have not the same force or rapidity, and do not produce the same expression. But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault--because I would not take the trouble of practicing. It is not that I do not believe my fingers as capable as any other woman's of superior execution."

Darcy smiled, and said, "You are perfectly right. You have employed your time much better. No one admitted to the privilege of hearing you, can think any thing wanting. We neither of us perform to strangers."

Here they were interrupted by Lady Catherine, much to Darcy's annoyance. She called out to know what they were talking of. Miss Elizabeth immediately began playing again. Lady Catherine approached, and, after listening for a few minutes, said to Darcy,

"Miss Bennet would not play at all amiss, if she practiced more, and could have the advantage of a London master. She has a very good notion of fingering, though her taste is not equal to Anne's. Anne would have been a delightful performer, had her health allowed her to learn."

Darcy noticed Miss Elizabeth looking at him intently and wondered if she had heard of Lady Catherine's expectations and hoped not. Lady Catherine continued her remarks on Miss Elizabeth's performance, mixing with them many instructions on execution and taste. Darcy was indignant for Miss Elizabeth's sake. As he had said, he found nothing lacking in her performance, either at the piano-forte or in regards to Lady Catherine for she received all that lady's impertinent instructions with forbearance and civility. At the request of himself and the Colonel, she remained at the instrument till the departure of the parsonage party.

That night, Darcy could not sleep. He was haunted by Miss Elizabeth. Her loveliness, her wit, her performance on the piano-forte, his pleasure in conversing, and even dancing, with her, her caring, and forbearance. As the first light of morning began to touch the sky, he came to a realization and a decision. He realized that he had been foolish to think that he could ever forget Miss Elizabeth, ever stop loving her. He decided that he must have her for his wife.

Chapter 15

The next morning, Darcy woke with a feeling of expectancy. He considered proposing that very day but, after some thought, he realized that most of his past behavior towards Elizabeth had been contradictory. He decided it would be best to spend a week or two making his intentions clear. As soon as it was late enough to be proper, he set off to pay a call at the parsonage determined to be agreeable.

When he arrived at the parsonage, Darcy was told the ladies were in the drawing-room, but on entering he found only Elizabeth and immediately apologized for his intrusion. They then sat down, and when her enquiries after Rosings were made, seemed in danger of sinking into total silence. It was absolutely necessary, therefore, to think of something, but he could not. After a few minutes, Elizabeth rescued him by observing,

"How very suddenly you all quitted Netherfield last November, Mr. Darcy! It must have been a most agreeable surprise to Mr. Bingley to see you all after him so soon; for, if I recollect right, he went but the day before. He and his sisters were well, I hope, when you left London."

"Perfectly so--I thank you."

He could say no more--and, after a short pause, she added,

"I think I have understood that Mr. Bingley has not much idea of ever returning to Netherfield again?"

"I have never heard him say so; but it is probable that he may spend very little of his time there in future. He has many friends, and he is at a time of life when friends and engagements are continually increasing."

"If he means to be but little at Netherfield, it would be better for the neighbourhood that he should give up the place entirely, for then we might possibly get a settled family there. But perhaps Mr. Bingley did not take the house so much for the convenience of the neighbourhood as for his own, and we must expect him to keep or quit it on the same principle."

"I should not be surprised," said Darcy, "if he were to give it up, as soon as any eligible purchase offers."

Elizabeth made no answer and he soon realized that she wished him to begin the next subject. He obliged her with "This seems a very comfortable house. Lady Catherine, I believe, did a great deal to it when Mr. Collins first came to Hunsford."

"I believe she did--and I am sure she could not have bestowed her kindness on a more grateful object."

"Mr. Collins appears very fortunate in his choice of a wife."

"Yes, indeed; his friends may well rejoice in his having met with one of the very few sensible women who would have accepted him, or have made him happy if they had. My friend has an excellent understanding--though I am not certain that I consider her marrying Mr. Collins as the wisest thing she ever did. She seems perfectly happy, however, and in a prudential light, it is certainly a very good match for her."

"It must be very agreeable to her to be settled within so easy a distance of her own family and friends."

"An easy distance do you call it? It is nearly fifty miles."

"And what is fifty miles of good road? Little more than half a day's journey. Yes, I call it a very easy distance."

"I should never have considered the distance as one of the advantages of the match," cried Elizabeth. "I should never have said Mrs. Collins was settled near her family."

He decided to determine her own feeling on the subject and with a sort of smile said, "It is a proof of your own attachment to Hertfordshire. Any thing beyond the very neighbourhood of Longbourn, I suppose, would appear far."

Elizabeth blushed as she answered, "I do not mean to say that a woman may not be settled too near her family. The far and the near must be relative, and depend on many varying circumstances. Where there is fortune to make the expense of travelling unimportant, distance becomes no evil. But that is not the case here. Mr. and Mrs. Collins have a comfortable income, but not such a one as will allow of frequent journeys--and I am persuaded my friend would not call herself near her family under less than half the present distance."

This answer pleased Darcy and he drew his chair a little towards her, and said, "You cannot have a right to such very strong local attachment. You cannot have been always at Longbourn."

Elizabeth looked surprised. Darcy suddenly felt nervous and drew back his chair. He took a newspaper from the table, and, glancing over it, said, in a stiff voice,

"Are you pleased with Kent?"

A short dialogue on the subject of the country ensued, on either side calm and concise--and soon put an end to by the entrance of Mrs. Collins and her sister, just returned from their walk. The tęte-ŕ-tęte surprised them. Darcy related the mistake which had occasioned his intruding on Miss Bennet, and after sitting a few minutes longer without saying much to any body, went away.

Darcy was much pleased with this conference and returned to Rosings in better spirits than he had been in in many weeks.

Darcy knew that Elizabeth was fond of walking in the park so he took to walking there himself at the times she was most likely to be out. It was a large park, however, and several days passed without his meeting her there. On the fourth day of his walking out he decided to try one of the less frequented walks and finally he happened upon her.

She seemed surprised to meet him and even more surprised when he turned back to walk with her. She then made a special point of telling him that this was a favourite haunt of hers. He was glad of the information and took the opportunity of meeting her there again twice more in the week that followed. They did not talk much, especially Elizabeth, but she politely answered all his questions--about her pleasure in being at Hunsford, her love of solitary walks, and her opinion of Mr. and Mrs. Collins' happiness. He also spoke particularly of Rosings and somewhat incoherently expressed his desire that she would someday visit there.

Darcy was perfectly satisfied with these interviews and determined on the conclusion of the third that he was now ready, and upon the earliest opportunity he would extend his proposals to her. Proposals which he was certain she was expecting and that any woman would be most happy to accept.

Chapter 16

Posted on Wednesday, 8 August 2001

Two days later, the Collinses and their guests were engaged to dine at Rosings. Darcy doubted that his opportunity would present itself at one of Lady Catherine's dinner parties, but he was glad of the chance to see Elizabeth. When the party arrived, however, Elizabeth was not with them. Mr. Collins, in an overly long, over apologetic speech, explained that she was not feeling well. Both Darcy and Fitzwilliam expressed their concern and Mrs. Collins assured them it was only a headache but she had not felt up to dining out. Darcy suddenly realized that this was his opportunity if he could only think of an excuse to get away himself. He made his apologies to Lady Catherine saying he had just remembered some urgent business and departed before she could protest.

He quickly collected his hat and gloves and walked purposely to the parsonage. When he arrived, he was shown directly into the drawing-room and he could clearly see that Elizabeth was surprised to see him. In a hurried manner he immediately began an inquiry after her health expressing a wish of hearing that she were better. She answered that she was and he realized he had no idea what he was going to say next. He sat down for a few moments and then getting up walked about the room. Elizabeth said nothing and after a silence of several minutes he finally moved towards her in an agitated manner, and thus began,

"In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."

Elizabeth stared at him and he saw her blush, but she said nothing and he continued. He told her everything. How much and for how long he had loved her. He then felt it necessary to tell her of his struggles, all the reasons he had for not marrying her that she might understand how strong his affection was and that he knew what he was doing. He ended by begging her to become his wife.

She blushed as he finished and the moment of silence before she replied seemed an hour to him, but she finally said,

"In such cases as these, it is, I believe, the established mode is to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, however unequally they may be returned. It is natural that obligation should be felt, and if I could feel gratitude, I would now thank you. But I cannot--I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly. I am sorry to have occasioned pain to any one. It has been most unconsciously done, however, and I hope will be of short duration. The feelings which, you tell me, have long prevented the acknowledgment of your regard, can have little difficulty in overcoming it after this explanation."

During the whole of this, Darcy had been leaning against the mantle-piece with his eyes fixed on her face. He was stunned. It took a few moments for him to comprehend what she had said. The realization slowly dawned on him, she was refusing him. This realization brought on a variety of emotions. First he felt a great surprise mingled with resentment that she could possibly refuse him. This soon turned to anger. And underneath it all was a great pain that she would not be his. Through all this he struggled for composure and there was a long pause till he had obtained it. At length, in a voice of forced calmness, he said,

"And this is all the reply which I am to have the honour of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little endeavour at civility, I am thus rejected. But it is of small importance."

"I might as well enquire,". replied she, "why, with so evident a design of offending and insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against your will, against your reason, and even against your character? Was not this some excuse for incivility, if I was uncivil? But I have other provocations. You know I have. Had not my own feelings decided against you, had they been indifferent, or had they even been favourable, do you think that any consideration would tempt me to accept the man, who has been the means of ruining, perhaps for ever, the happiness of a most beloved sister?"

Darcy changed colour. How did she know? was it possible Miss Bennet did love Bingley? She continued and he listened without attempting to interrupt her.

"I have every reason in the world to think ill of you. No motive can excuse the unjust and ungenerous part you acted there. You dare not, you cannot deny that you have been the principal, if not the only means of dividing them from each other, of exposing one to the censure of the world for caprice and instability, the other to its derision for disappointed hopes, and involving them both in misery of the acutest kind."

He was desperately trying to figure out how she knew all this and said nothing.

"Can you deny that you have done it?" she repeated.

With assumed tranquillity he then replied, "I have no wish of denying that I did every thing in my power to separate my friend from your sister, or that I rejoice in my success. Towards him I have been kinder than towards myself."

"But it is not merely this affair," she continued, "on which my dislike is founded. Long before it had taken place, my opinion of you was decided. Your character was unfolded in the recital which I received many months ago from Mr. Wickham. On this subject, what can you have to say? In what imaginary act of friendship can you here defend yourself? or under what misrepresentation, can you here impose upon others?"

Darcy felt his colour heighten and could no longer completely cover up his agitation as he said, "You take an eager interest in that gentleman's concerns."

"Who that knows what his misfortunes have been, can help feeling an interest in him?"

"His misfortunes!" repeated Darcy contemptuously; "yes, his misfortunes have been great indeed."

"And of your infliction," cried Elizabeth with energy. "You have reduced him to his present state of poverty, comparative poverty. You have withheld the advantages, which you must know to have been designed for him. You have deprived the best years of his life, of that independence which was no less his due than his desert. You have done all this! and yet you can treat the mention of his misfortunes with contempt and ridicule."

"And this," cried Darcy, as he walked with quick steps across the room, "is your opinion of me! This is the estimation in which you hold me! I thank you for explaining it so fully. My faults, according to this calculation, are heavy indeed! But perhaps," added he, stopping in his walk, and turning towards her, "these offenses might have been overlooked, had not your pride been hurt by my honest confession of the scruples that had long prevented my forming any serious design. These bitter accusations might have been suppressed, had I with greater policy concealed my struggles, and flattered you into the belief of my being impelled by unqualified, unalloyed inclination--by reason, by reflection, by every thing. But disguise of every sort is my abhorrence. Nor am I ashamed of the feelings I related. They were natural and just. Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your connections? To congratulate myself on the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?"

"You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way, than as it spared me the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner."

He started at this, but he said nothing, and she continued,

"You could not have made me the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it."

He was absolutely astonished and completely mortified. She continued,

"From the very beginning, from the first moment I may almost say, of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form that ground-work of disapprobation, on which succeeding events have built so immovable a dislike; and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry."

"You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness."

And with these words he hastily left the room and the house.

Chapter 17

The tumult of his mind was now painfully great. He walked towards Rosings but realizing he could not return in such a state, entered the park instead.

What had happened? How could he not have seen that Elizabeth so disliked him? No, not disliked him, she actually hated him. He was angry. Angry at her, angry at himself, and, most of all, angry at Wickham. Why did that man keep turning up to destroy his life?

She hated him; his lovely Elizabeth hated him. He had to explain himself to her. But how? He was tempted to return directly to the parsonage; but he doubted she would even entertain him now, and if she did, he didn't think he could stand another tęte-a-tęte just now. How then? He would write her a letter. He would tell her everything; everything about Bingley and Miss Bennet, everything about Wickham, and even everything about Georgiana. He hurried directly to Rosings to write this formidable missive.

Darcy counted himself lucky that he was able to slip into the house and up to his chamber without being detected by Lady Catherine. He would have to come up with an explanation in the morning but he couldn't think about that now.

As he sat down at his desk, he realized this would most likely be the most important and the most painful letter he would ever write. It would likely also be extremely painful for Elizabeth; but as much as he hated to inflict more pain on her than he already had it was necessary. He wrote as follows:

The Letter is quoted exactly from the book so feel free to skip it.

Be not alarmed, Madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments, or renewal of those offers, which were last night so disgusting to you. I write without any intention of paining you, or humbling myself, by dwelling on wishes, which, for the happiness of both, cannot be too soon forgotten; and the effort which the formation and the perusal of this letter must occasion should have been spared, had not my character required it to be written and read. You must, therefore, pardon the freedom with which I demand your attention; your feelings, I know, will bestow it unwillingly, but I demand it of your justice.

Two offenses of a very different nature, and by no means of equal magnitude, you last night laid to my charge. The first mentioned was, that, regardless of the sentiments of either, I had detached Mr. Bingley from your sister;--and the other, that I had, in defiance of various claims, in defiance of honour and humanity, ruined the immediate prosperity, and blasted the prospects of Mr. Wickham.--Willfully and wantonly to have thrown off the companion of my youth, the acknowledged favourite of my father, a young man who had scarcely any other dependence than on our patronage, and who had been brought up to expect its exertion, would be a depravity to which the separation of two young persons, whose affection could be the growth of only a few weeks, could bear no comparison.--But from the severity of that blame which was last night so liberally bestowed, respecting each circumstance, I shall hope to be in future secured, when the following account of my actions and their motives has been read.--If, in the explanation of them which is due to myself, I am under the necessity of relating feelings which may be offensive to yours, I can only say that I am sorry.--The necessity must be obeyed--and farther apology would be absurd.--I had not been long in Hertfordshire, before I saw, in common with others, that Bingley preferred your eldest sister to any other young woman in the country.--But it was not till the evening of the dance at Netherfield that I had any apprehension of his feeling a serious attachment.--I had often seen him in love before.--At that ball, while I had the honour of dancing with you, I was first made acquainted, by Sir William Lucas's accidental information, that Bingley's attentions to your sister had given rise to a general expectation of their marriage. He spoke of it as a certain event, of which the time alone could be undecided. From that moment I observed my friend's behaviour attentively; and I could then perceive that his partiality for Miss Bennet was beyond what I had ever witnessed in him. Your sister I also watched. -Her look and manners were open, cheerful, and engaging as ever, but without any symptom of peculiar regard, and I remained convinced from the evening's scrutiny, that though she received his attentions with pleasure, she did not invite them by any participation of sentiment.--If you have not been mistaken here, I must have been in an error. Your superior knowledge of your sister must make the latter probable.--If it be so, if I have been misled by such error, to inflict pain on her, your resentment has not been unreasonable. But I shall not scruple to assert that the serenity of your sister's countenance and air was such as might have given the most acute observer a conviction that, however amiable her temper, her heart was not likely to be easily touched.--That I was desirous of believing her indifferent is certain,--but I will venture to say that my investigations and decisions are not usually influenced by my hopes or fears.--I did not believe her to be indifferent because I wished it;--I believed it on impartial conviction, as truly as I wished it in reason.--My objections to the marriage were not merely those which I last night acknowledged to have required the utmost force of passion to put aside in my own case; the want of connection could not be so great an evil to my friend as to me.--But there were other causes of repugnance;- causes which, though still existing, and existing to an equal degree in both instances, I had myself endeavoured to forget, because they were not immediately before me.--These causes must be stated, though briefly.- The situation of your mother's family, though objectionable, was nothing in comparison of that total want of propriety so frequently, so almost uniformly, betrayed by herself, by your three younger sisters, and occasionally even by your father.--Pardon me.--It pains me to offend you. But amidst your concern for the defects of your nearest relations, and your displeasure at this representation of them, let it give you consolation to consider that to have conducted yourselves so as to avoid any share of the like censure is praise no less generally bestowed on you and your eldest sister, than it is honourable to the sense and disposition of both.--I will only say farther that, from what passed that evening, my opinion of all parties was confirmed, and every inducement heightened, which could have led me before to preserve my friend from what I esteemed a most unhappy connection.--He left Netherfield for London, on the day following, as you, I am certain, remember, with the design of soon returning. -- The part which I acted is now to be explained.--His sisters' uneasiness had been equally excited with my own; our coincidence of feeling was soon discovered; and, alike sensible that no time was to be lost in detaching their brother, we shortly resolved on joining him directly in London.--We accordingly went -and there I readily engaged in the office of pointing out to my friend, the certain evils of such a choice.--I described, and enforced them earnestly. -But, however this remonstrance might have staggered or delayed his determination, I do not suppose that it would ultimately have prevented the marriage, had it not been seconded by the assurance, which I hesitated not in giving, of your sister's indifference. He had before believed her to return his affection with sincere, if not with equal, regard.--But Bingley has great natural modesty, with a stronger dependence on my judgment than on his own.--To convince him, therefore, that he had deceived himself, was no very difficult point. To persuade him against returning into Hertfordshire, when that conviction had been given, was scarcely the work of a moment.--I cannot blame myself for having done thus much. There is but one part of my conduct in the whole affair, on which I do not reflect with satisfaction; it is that I condescended to adopt the measures of art so far as to conceal from him your sister's being in town. I knew it myself, as it was known to Miss Bingley, but her brother is even yet ignorant of it.--That they might have met without ill consequence is, perhaps, probable;--but his regard did not appear to me enough extinguished for him to see her without some danger.--Perhaps this concealment, this disguise, was beneath me.--It is done, however, and it was done for the best.--On this subject I have nothing more to say, no other apology to offer. If I have wounded your sister's feelings, it was unknowingly done; and though the motives which governed me may to you very naturally appear insufficient, I have not yet learnt to condemn them. --With respect to that other, more weighty accusation, of having injured Mr. Wickham, I can only refute it by laying before you the whole of his connection with my family. Of what he has particularly accused me, I am ignorant; but of the truth of what I shall relate, I can summon more than one witness of undoubted veracity. Mr. Wickham is the son of a very respectable man, who had for many years the management of all the Pemberley estates; and whose good conduct in the discharge of his trust naturally inclined my father to be of service to him; and on George Wickham, who was his god-son, his kindness was therefore liberally bestowed. My father supported him at school, and afterwards at Cambridge;--most important assistance, as his own father, always poor from the extravagance of his wife, would have been unable to give him a gentleman's education. My father was not only fond of this young man's society, whose manners were always engaging; he had also the highest opinion of him, and hoping the church would be his profession, intended to provide for him in it. As for myself, it is many, many years since I first began to think of him in a very different manner. The vicious propensities -the want of principle, which he was careful to guard from the knowledge of his best friend, could not escape the observation of a young man of nearly the same age with himself, and who had opportunities of seeing him in unguarded moments, which Mr. Darcy could not have. Here again I shall give you pain--to what degree you only can tell. But whatever may be the sentiments which Mr. Wickham has created, a suspicion of their nature shall not prevent me from unfolding his real character. It adds even another motive. My excellent father died about five years ago; and his attachment to Mr. Wickham was to the last so steady, that in his will he particularly recommended it to me to promote his advancement in the best manner that his profession might allow, and, if he took orders, desired that a valuable family living might be his as soon as it became vacant. There was also a legacy of one thousand pounds. His own father did not long survive mine, and within half a year from these events Mr. Wickham wrote to inform me that, having finally resolved against taking orders, he hoped I should not think it unreasonable for him to expect some more immediate pecuniary advantage, in lieu of the preferment by which he could not be benefited. He had some intention, he added, of studying the law, and I must be aware that the interest of one thousand pounds would be a very insufficient support therein. I rather wished than believed him to be sincere; but, at any rate, was perfectly ready to accede to his proposal. I knew that Mr. Wickham ought not to be a clergyman. The business was therefore soon settled. He resigned all claim to assistance in the church, were it possible that he could ever be in a situation to receive it, and accepted in return three thousand pounds. All connection between us seemed now dissolved. I thought too ill of him to invite him to Pemberley, or admit his society in town. In town, I believe, he chiefly lived, but his studying the law was a mere pretence, and being now free from all restraint, his life was a life of idleness and dissipation. For about three years I heard little of him; but on the decease of the incumbent of the living which had been designed for him, he applied to me again by letter for the presentation. His circumstances, he assured me, and I had no difficulty in believing it, were exceedingly bad. He had found the law a most unprofitable study, and was now absolutely resolved on being ordained, if I would present him to the living in question--of which he trusted there could be little doubt, as he was well assured that I had no other person to provide for, and I could not have forgotten my revered father's intentions. You will hardly blame me for refusing to comply with this entreaty, or for resisting every repetition of it. His resentment was in proportion to the distress of his circumstances--and he was doubtless as violent in his abuse of me to others, as in his reproaches to myself. After this period, every appearance of acquaintance was dropt. How he lived I know not. But last summer he was again most painfully obtruded on my notice. I must now mention a circumstance which I would wish to forget myself, and which no obligation less than the present should induce me to unfold to any human being. Having said thus much, I feel no doubt of your secrecy. My sister, who is more than ten years my junior, was left to the guardianship of my mother's nephew, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and myself. About a year ago, she was taken from school, and an establishment formed for her in London; and last summer she went with the lady who presided over it, to Ramsgate; and thither also went Mr. Wickham, undoubtedly by design; for there proved to have been a prior acquaintance between him and Mrs. Younge, in whose character we were most unhappily deceived; and by her connivance and aid he so far recommended himself to Georgiana, whose affectionate heart retained a strong impression of his kindness to her as a child, that she was persuaded to believe herself in love, and to consent to an elopement. She was then but fifteen, which must be her excuse; and after stating her imprudence, I am happy to add that I owed the knowledge of it to herself. I joined them unexpectedly a day or two before the intended elopement; and then Georgiana, unable to support the idea of grieving and offending a brother whom she almost looked up to as a father, acknowledged the whole to me. You may imagine what I felt and how I acted. Regard for my sister's credit and feelings prevented any public exposure, but I wrote to Mr. Wickham, who left the place immediately, and Mrs. Younge was of course removed from her charge. Mr. Wickham's chief object was unquestionably my sister's fortune, which is thirty thousand pounds; but I cannot help supposing that the hope of revenging himself on me was a strong inducement. His revenge would have been complete indeed. This, madam, is a faithful narrative of every event in which we have been concerned together; and if you do not absolutely reject it as false, you will, I hope, acquit me henceforth of cruelty towards Mr. Wickham. I know not in what manner, under what form of falsehood, he has imposed on you; but his success is not, perhaps, to be wondered at. Ignorant as you previously were of every thing concerning either, detection could not be in your power, and suspicion certainly not in your inclination. You may possibly wonder why all this was not told you last night. But I was not then master enough of myself to know what could or ought to be revealed. For the truth of every thing here related, I can appeal more particularly to the testimony of Colonel Fitzwilliam, who from our near relationship and constant intimacy, and still more as one of the executors of my father's will, has been unavoidably acquainted with every particular of these transactions. If your abhorrence of me should make my assertions valueless, you cannot be prevented by the same cause from confiding in my cousin; and that there may be the possibility of consulting him, I shall endeavour to find some opportunity of putting this letter in your hands in the course of the morning. I will only add, God bless you.

Fitzwilliam Darcy

It took him all night to write the letter, finishing just before eight o'clock in the morning. He sealed it and addressed it "Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

Knowing that the events of yesterday combined with the emotional labour of writing the letter and his sleepless night had left him in a less than presentable state, Darcy called his valet to prepare a bath. As soon as he had bathed and dressed, he set out to Elizabeth's favourite walk in the hopes of encountering her. He knew it was yet too early and he would most likely have to wait several hours but he had thought it best to leave the house before Lady Catherine was up.

He did indeed have to wait, but his patience was rewarded at last when he saw her enter the park. She must have seen him for she immediately retreated. Afraid of losing this opportunity, he called out her name. Her sense of politeness returned her to him. He held out the letter and she took it. He then said with what he hoped was composure, "I have been walking in the grove some time in the hope of meeting you. Will you do me the honour of reading that letter?" And then, with a slight bow, he turned again into the plantation and had soon left her behind.

Chapter 18

When Darcy returned to the house he sought out Colonel Fitzwilliam. He had to let him know that Elizabeth might seek out his confidence.

Fitzwilliam was in the billiard room and was pleased when Darcy entered the room. He was curious about Darcy's absence last evening and this morning, certain it had something to do with Miss Bennet. He was however puzzled by the dark mood Darcy was obviously in.

Darcy entered the room and, not knowing how to begin the conversation, poured himself a drink and sat down. He was silent for several minutes. Fitzwilliam seemed to be waiting for him to begin but finally began himself by asking,

"Where have you been, Darcy? Lady Catherine was not at all pleased when you did not come back last night or show up for breakfast this morning."

"I told you last night," replied Darcy, still unwilling to communicate, "I had business."

Fitzwilliam left this alone for a minute, then added, "Did this business have anything to do with Miss Bennet?"

Darcy stiffened and in the most nonchalant tone he could muster, said, "Why do you ask?"

Fitzwilliam was tempted to chuckle at Darcy's reluctance to admit what was so dreadfully obvious, but knowing that would not help, simply said,

"You are in love with her, Darcy."

Darcy gasped and coloured and in a barely audible voice squeaked out, "How do you know?"

"I've known from the day we arrived at Rosings from the way you spoke of her in the carriage." Darcy looked startled. "Good God! Darcy," continued the Colonel, "it is obvious every time you look at her, every time you speak of her."

Darcy stared into his drink and whispered, "It wasn't obvious to her."

Fitzwilliam was startled at this; he sat down in the chair opposite Darcy's and asked, "Come Darcy, what is the matter? What has happened."

Darcy sighed realizing the time had come to confide in his cousin.

"You asked about my business and if it had anything to do with Miss Bennet. Miss Bennet was my business. When she did not arrive for tea yesterday, I went to the parsonage to see her and . . . I proposed to her."

Fitzwilliam was confused and began, "But . . .," Darcy silenced him.

"She refused me, Fitzwilliam." So saying, Darcy buried his head in his hands and began to silently sob.

Fitzwilliam was surprised, he had a thousand questions. He waited for his cousin to compose himself and asked, "But why?"

"She hates me, Fitzwilliam."

"Hates you!" cried the Colonel, "How can she hate you?"

"It would seem she has very good reasons. Do you remember when I told how I had rescued a friend from a very unfortunate match?" Fitzwilliam paled slightly and nodded. Darcy continued, "Well the lady was Miss Bennet's sister and somehow she found out about it."

Here Darcy stopped for Fitzwilliam had begun pacing about the room. After a moment he stopped, turned to Darcy and said,

"I'm sorry, Darcy, I'm so sorry. It's all my fault. I had no idea Miss Bennet was involved in that and I told her about it yesterday. I'm so sorry, Darcy."

Darcy felt a sudden flash of anger but quickly realized it wasn't the Colonel's fault.

"Don't trouble yourself, Fitzwilliam, it's probably best that she know. Besides, that was not her only reason. Wickham showed up in Meryton, the small town near her father's estate. They became quite well acquainted and he told Miss Bennet his usual lies about me. You can have no doubt, knowing Wickham as you do, that she had no difficulty believing him."

"Oh! Darcy. But didn't you tell her what he really is?"

"I couldn't, I didn't have the presence of mind at the time. But I have since written her a letter explaining everything. I even told her about Georgiana. I have just returned from delivering it to her. Fitzwilliam, I told her, if my word isn't good enough, she could consult you for confirmation. So do not be surprised if she seeks your confidence and please tell her any thing she wants to know."

"Of course, Darcy. Do we still depart tomorrow?"

"Yes, I had planned oh postponing indefinitely, but now I can not bear to stay here any longer."

"Then let us go pay our farewell call at the parsonage. I may have an opportunity of speaking with Miss Bennet."

Darcy was stricken at the thought of encountering Elizabeth again so soon, but Fitzwilliam convinced him of the necessity of the visit and they set off.

To Darcy's relief, Elizabeth was not there. He took his leave of Mrs. Collins and Miss Lucas, expressed polite sorrow at having missed Elizabeth, and departed. Fitzwilliam remained in the hopes of Elizabeth's return. However, when the Colonel returned to Rosings after more than an hour, Darcy found that she had not.

Chapter 19

The gentlemen departed shortly after breakfast the next morning. Darcy felt his heart break as they drove away, realizing he would probably never see Elizabeth again. He also knew he would never stop loving her and he would never marry another. Unfortunately, her refusal had actually strengthened her love and respect for her. Most if not all of the women he knew would not have hesitated to accept him simply for his fortune. That Elizabeth had not, spoke volumes about her integrity.

Thinking of her integrity he began to reconsider the manner of her refusal. Her words had been echoing in his head ever since she had uttered them. Until now, however, he had been angry and considered them as baseless. Now that his anger had subsided he began to wonder if those words were justified, if Elizabeth had been right about him. She had said that he was arrogant and conceited and that he was not a gentleman. Could this be true? His high regard for her understanding and integrity forced him to consider it. After pondering for quite some time, he decided to solicit Colonel Fitzwilliam's opinion.

"Fitzwilliam," he said, "if I ask you a question will you answer me honestly?"

"Yes, of course," answered a confused Fitzwilliam.

Darcy hesitated a moment then asked, "Do you find me arrogant and conceited?"

"What!?" cried Fitzwilliam.

Darcy repeated the question and once Fitzwilliam comprehended his meaning, he answered,

"I do not personally find you such, but I believe your manners often give that impression. Why do you ask?"

"I have not told you everything that occurred during my interview with Miss Bennet. The reasons I told you of her refusal of me, I believe, were merely examples of the true reason. She told me that from the very beginning of our acquaintance I had impressed her with the fullest belief of my arrogance, conceit, and selfish disdain for the feelings of others. She also told me that I had not behaved in a gentleman like manner."

"Darcy, what did you say that provoked Miss Bennet to say such things?"

Darcy, who had begun to feel that perhaps the manner of his proposal had been not quite right, told Fitzwilliam everything he had said. The Colonel was astonished and when Darcy had finished, he replied,

"Good God! Darcy! THAT is how you propose marriage. I believe Miss Bennet is right. You are conceited and arrogant. I don't have any experience in these matters, but I don't believe insulting your lady is the best method of recommending your suit."

Darcy buried his head in his hands and said, "Oh! Fitzwilliam, what am I going to do? Elizabeth is the only woman I'll ever love, she hates me, and now I'll probably never see her again."

"You can improve. Hopefully, your letter will make her better disposed towards you by clearing up your misunderstandings. Then if you ever do see her again you can show her you have listened to her with improved manners. And then, perhaps, try to win her in a proper manner. And even if you if you never see her again you will be a better man for having known her.

Darcy considered for several minutes, then said, "You're right. Thank you, Fitzwilliam."

Chapter 20

Posted on Sunday, 12 August 2001

Darcy returned to town in depressed spirits but determined to make himself more agreeable to Elizabeth Bennet. When he was not engaged in business or with Georgiana, he spent his time locked away in his study contemplating his character.

As Elizabeth was the only person who had ever called his character into question he carefully reviewed every one of their interactions.

You are severe on us.

You wanted me, I know to say "yes" that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste.

Such as vanity and pride.

And your defect is a propensity to hate everybody.

All these she had said to him and all had been said before she had met Wickham and had her views tainted by his slander.

How could he have been so blind? At the time he had thought she was teazing but with open eyes it was clear that she had been serious.

But he wasn't really like that, was he? How had she misunderstood him?

You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner, and at an assembly as this it would be insupportable.

She is tolerable but not handsome enough to tempt me; and I am in no humour at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men.

If she only knew how he had regretted it later. He should have apologized. And he hadn't even meant it. It was just that he was uncomfortable among strangers. But that was no excuse, she had told him so.

My fingers do not move over this instrument in the masterly manner which I see so many women's do. They have not the same force or rapidity, and do not produce the same expression. But then I have always supposed it to be my own fault--because I would not take the trouble of practicing.

Could it be as simple as that? Could he become the man Elizabeth wanted him to be by learning to perform for strangers. He wasn't sure but it was worth a try and it couldn't hurt.

Darcy started accepting the invitations he hadn't even looked at before. He forced himself to dance with the young ladies and converse with their mothers. It was difficult at first and there were many awkward moments when he had nothing to say. but eventually it got easier.

Darcy was pleased with this progress but felt that it was all superficial. He knew he hadn't really changed inside and he knew that Elizabeth wasn't impressed by outward appearances. He began to consider her accusations against his character.

Your manners impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others.

Why with so evident a design of offending and insulting me you chose to tell me that you like me against your will, against your reason, and even against your character?

It was true. He had disdained the feelings of the woman he claimed to be violently in love with. What was he thinking to have proposed by way of an insult? At the time, he had convinced himself that it would prove to her the violence of his affections. But he could now admit that it was really to show her what a great favour he was bestowing on her. He was fool, a blind fool. He should have known that Elizabeth would not take kindly to that even if she had liked him. And really why should any woman take kindly to it?

And why was he so opposed to her family? That her relatives were in trade was of little consequence to him, but the behaviour of her immediate family was atrocious. It was a miracle Elizabeth and Miss Bennet had turned out so well. But, what of his own family? Lady Catherine's behaviour was equally atrocious in its own way.

Chapter 21

Slowly Darcy ironed out his character and after a few months he began to feel that Elizabeth might approve of him. If only he could see her again. But that was unlikely to ever happen.

Forgetting Elizabeth was not an option. He was haunted by her. Thoughts of her kept him from sleeping much of the time. When he did manage to sleep she filled his dreams. Occasionally he dreamt he had been given a second chance and she was his wife. More often, however, he had nightmares. Grotesque versions of his proposal, visions of her married to someone else, and, worst of all, visions of her unhappy and ruined married to George Wickham. He spent all his free hours secluded in his study or library and though he joined Georgiana for meals he ate very little.

Georgiana was worried by Darcy's behavior. She had never seen him like this before and did not know how to help him as he had not confided his troubles to her. She finally went to Colonel Fitzwilliam and asked for his help.

Fitzwilliam found Darcy in the library nursing a brandy. "Darcy," he said, "we need to talk."

"I would rather be left alone, Fitzwilliam."

"Georgiana tells me you are spending entirely too much time alone and she is worried about you. She also says you are not eating or sleeping. This isn't healthy, Darcy. It is time to move on. You cannot continue this way."

"Without Elizabeth, it doesn't matter."

"I thought you were attempting to become a better man?"

"I am," replied Darcy, rising and moving to the window, "I'm different now. Have not you noticed?"

"I thought I had, but it turns out you still think only of yourself."

"What?" cried Darcy, turning to face the Colonel. "I have been most conscientious to consider the feelings others in all my dealings. That was Elizabeth's chief charge against me."

"Perhaps, but allowing yourself to wallow in misery is incredibly selfish. And if anything, you are worse now. You would never have allowed your concerns to affect Georgiana before."

"Georgiana is fine."

"No, she's not. She is worried about you and does not understand what is wrong. I have tried to comfort her but she needs you, Darcy."

Darcy started. He had not noticed that he was affecting Georgiana and that seemed to confirm what Fitzwilliam had said.

"Have I really been neglecting her?" he asked as he sank into a chair.

"Not exactly, but you are shutting her out. You need to talk to her, confide in her."

"About Elizabeth?" Darcy asked warily.

"Yes."

"I can't discuss my broken heart with my little sister."

"Why not? She isn't a little girl anymore. She has had her own disastrous love affair, much more so than yours. You might find it helpful."

"I'll think about it," replied Darcy.

Fitzwilliam knew that was all he would get out of his cousin and turned the conversation to more trivial things. Before he left, however, he had one more suggestion. As he was on his way out, he said, "Darcy, I think you should go to Pemberley. You haven't spent much time there lately. Take Georgiana with you. The country will do you both good."

"I would like to go to Pemberley. I will consider that as well. Thank you, Fitzwilliam."

Chapter 22

Over the next few days, Darcy considered what Colonel Fitzwilliam had said to him. The more he thought on it, the more he realized the Colonel right. Georgiana was almost a woman now. How could he expect her to become a confident one if he did not treat her as such? It would be difficult to speak to her about Elizabeth but she deserved to know what was troubling him.

Fitzwilliam was right about Pemberley as well. It would be good to get out of London for awhile, especially during the summer months. Darcy did not wish to go alone, however, and decided to include Bingley in the party. Unfortunately that would require including Miss Bingley and the Hursts as well, but Darcy could endure their company for the pleasure of Bingley's.

About a week after the Colonel's visit. Darcy approached Georgiana in the music room while she was practicing the piano-forte. She was surprised to see him and he realized, guiltily, that he had not actively sought her company in many weeks. She stopt playing and he said, "Georgie, dearest, it has recently come to my attention that I have been neglecting you of late and I apologize."

"It has not been so bad, Fitz," she replied softly.

"Come sit with me, Georgie, we must talk." She joined him on the sofa and he began. "I know I have not been myself since I returned from Kent and that you have been worried. I have been reminded that you are not a little girl anymore and that I can confide in you. May I confide in you Georgie? Would you like to know about my troubles?"

"Oh yes, Fitz! Please. I have been so worried. I may be able to help."

"Perhaps you may," he replied as he kissed her on the forehead.

Darcy was unsure what to say now and began to pace about the room. Georgiana did not press and waited patiently for him to begin on his own. He finally decided to start at the beginning.

"Do you remember when I went into Hertfordshire with Mr. Bingley last fall?" Georgiana was slightly confused by this opening having thought his troubles originated in Kent, but she simply nodded and he continued. "Well, while I was there, I became acquainted with a young lady. I believe I mentioned her once or twice in my letters. She and her sisters stayed at Netherfield for a few days."

"Yes, I remember. But you never told me her name."

Darcy knew very well that he hadn't. "Elizabeth," he said gently. "Miss Elizabeth Bennet." He then catalogued to Georgiana all Elizabeth's charms and perfections.

When he finished, she said, "She sounds lovely. I would like to meet her."

"I wish you could," Darcy replied almost inaudibly.

"Fitz?" Georgiana asked after a few minutes, "Are you in love with her?"

"Yes. I have been hopelessly in love with her for quite some time now."

"But . . ."

"Hush, Georgie, I must finish. You may remember that we left Hertfordshire rather suddenly. One reason for our removal was my desire to distance myself from Elizabeth but I could not forget her. Then when I went into Kent, she was there. I had been there no longer than a week before I know forgetting her was impossible. Two days before I returned to London, I proposed. She refused."

"Refused! Fitz, how could anyone refuse you?"

"She hates me, Georgie. She accused me, among other things, of prideful conceit and arrogance."

"But, how could anyone accuse you of such things?"

"She was right, Georgie. Before you protest, let me assure you, though you may have seen nothing of it yourself, she was absolutely right."

"Oh, Fitz, how miserable you must be."

"Yes, but I am endeavoring to be better and improve myself. Though my recent behavior towards you shows I still have a ways to go. You must help me, dearest."

"I will try, Fitz."

Chapter 23

Posted on Wednesday, 15 August 2001

Two weeks later, Darcy was on his way to Pemberley. Georgiana and the rest of the party would follow the next day. He had originally planned to travel with them but some business with his steward had come up unexpectedly and he had decided to travel on ahead.

Things had improved since his talk with Georgiana. It had helped just to talk of Elizabeth and his sister was an eager listener. Now, however, he was feeling pensive as he approached his beloved home. He had dreamt of showing Pemberley to Elizabeth. If things had been different, he might have been bringing her there now as his bride.

He tried to control his thoughts and keep his mood form sinking into despair as he dismounted and left his horse in the care of a stable hand. He headed towards the house and as he rounded the stable, the object of his thoughts was before him.

At first, he thought he was dreaming, but she turned, and, seeing him, exclaimed, "Mr. Darcy!"

The cheeks of each were overspread with the deepest blush as he stammered back, "Miss Bennet."

What was she doing here? Here at Pemberley where his fondest wishes had always placed her? Could it be that the strength of those had brought her here? Was this the second chance he has so longed for?

He determined not to waste this opportunity and after a moment of immobility, he recovered himself, advanced towards the party, and spoke to Elizabeth, if not in terms of perfect composure, at least of perfect civility.

He enquired after her family, as to the time of her having left Longbourn, and of her stay in Derbyshire. Elizabeth received his compliments and answered his questions but she would not raise her eyes to look at him. He suddenly realized he was repeating his questions and lapsed into silence. This would not do, but unable to think of anything else to say, he excused himself and took leave.

As Darcy entered the house, his mind was reeling. What to do? He could not let this opportunity pass him by. He would join them on their tour of the park. Hopefully by the time he changed his clothes and found them, he would be better composed and able to converse with Elizabeth without making a fool of himself.

As soon as he was dressed, Darcy set off in search of Elizabeth. He headed for the path that followed the stream into the woods and he was not disappointed. There she was. she seemed surprised at seeing him again but immediately began to admire the beauty of Pemberley. After a moment, however, she suddenly stopt and changed colour. He thought he understood.

He then took note again of the couple who accompanied her, and asked, "Miss Bennet, would you do me the honour of introducing me to your friends?"

"Yes, of course, Mr. Darcy. This is my aunt and uncle, Mr. and Mrs. Edward Gardiner." He was surprised. This was the brother of Mrs. Bennet. He was a perfect gentleman and not at all silly or nervous. He saw Elizabeth observing his reaction and knew that she must think that he would object to Mr. Gardiner's being in trade. This was the first test and he hoped that he had acquitted himself well.

He turned back with them, and entered into conversation with Mr. Gardiner while the ladies walked ahead. The conversation soon turned upon fishing. Mr. Gardiner was extremely fond of fishing and Darcy also enjoyed the sport. He invited Mr. Gardiner to fish there as often as he chose while he continued in the neighbourhood, offering at the same time to supply him with fishing tackle, and pointing out those parts of the stream where there was usually most sport.

After a few minutes, Mrs. Gardiner, who was not the walker her niece was, grew fatigued and found Elizabeth's arm inadequate to her support, and consequently claimed her husband's.

Darcy took her place by her niece, and they walked on together. After a short silence, the lady spoke, "Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to apologize for intruding. Your arrival was been very unexpected for your housekeeper informed us that you would certainly not be here till to-morrow; and indeed, before we left Bakewell we understood that you were not immediately expected in the country."

"Please do not be uneasy, Miss Bennet, that was indeed the plan but some unexpected business with my steward occasioned my coming a day ahead of the rest of the party." He then recollected who were of the party and added, "They will join me early tomorrow and among them are some who will claim an acquaintance with you,--Mr. Bingley and his sisters."

Elizabeth answered only by a slight bow. His thoughts were instantly driven back to the time when Mr. Bingley's name had been last mentioned between them; and if he might judge from her complexion, her mind was not very differently engaged.

"There is also one other person in the party," he continued after a pause, "who more particularly wishes to be known to you,--Will you allow me, or do I ask too much, to introduce my sister to your acquaintance during your stay at Lambton?" He held his breath till she acceded to this application of which she seemed quite surprised.

They now walked on in silence; each of them deep in thought. Darcy began to hope that perhaps Elizabeth could come to love him. She seemed not to resent the manner of his proposals and was pleased with the impending acquaintance with Georgiana. It seemed likely that his letter had indeed improved her opinion of him. They soon outstripped the others, and when they had reached the carriage, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were half a quarter of a mile behind.

He then asked her to walk into the house--but she declared herself not tired, and they stood together on the lawn. At such a time, much might have been said, and silence was very awkward. He wanted to talk, but there seemed an embargo on every subject. At last Elizabeth began a discussion of her travels and they talked of Matlock and Dove-Dale with great perseverance. The time passed all too quickly and the tęte-ŕ-tęte was over. On Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner's coming up, they were all pressed to go into the house and take some refreshment; but this was declined, and they parted on each side with the utmost politeness. Darcy handed the ladies into the carriage, and watched as it drove off. He then walked slowly towards the house.

The rest of the day Darcy thought of nothing but Elizabeth. He pictured her at the inn at Lambton and wondered what she was doing and what she was thinking of the days events. Perhaps she was thinking of him.

Chapter 24

That night Darcy slept better than he had since leaving Kent. His dreams were still full of Elizabeth but they were only pleasant. He awoke early and determined he would take Georgiana into Lambton as soon as possible after her arrival.

When the carriages arrived, Darcy was anxiously awaiting them in the drive. Miss Bingley and the Hursts greeted him politely and went immediately into the house. Georgiana and Bingley, however, noticed his greatly improved spirits and stayed to inquire.

"Georgie," Darcy burst forth, "Miss Elizabeth Bennet is staying in Lambton. she was here touring Pemberley when I arrived yesterday. She has agreed to meet you and I should like to take you into Lambton as soon as you can be ready."

Georgiana was shocked and pleased. She immediately answered, "Of course, Fitz. I have dreamed of meeting her, but I never thought it possible. Let me just run into the house and change out of my travelling clothes. I shall be ready in ten minutes." With that she ran into the house.

Bingley now spoke up, "Miss Bennet! Really Darcy, is she in the neighborhood? I should like to see her again. May I accompany you?"

"Of course, Bingley, I should be glad to have you."

"I am afraid I cannot be ready as quickly as Miss Georgiana. You two go on without me, I shall follow in half an hour."

To this plan, Darcy readily agreed and Bingley departed into the house. Darcy called for the curricle he had ordered to be ready at a moments notice. Georgiana was true to her word and, as soon as she came out, they departed. As they drove along, Darcy related to her everything that has occurred the day before. and they soon pulled up at the inn.

They were shown into the parlour, where Elizabeth and Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were waiting. Darcy made all the appropriate greetings, and then said, "Miss Bennet, may I present my sister, Georgiana? Georgiana this is Miss Elizabeth Bennet and her uncle and aunt, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner." He then began a conversation with the Gardiners leaving Elizabeth and Georgiana to get acquainted. Only half of Darcy's attention was on his own conversation, the other half being on that of the ladies. To his delight, they seemed to get on well. Georgiana indeed said little but more than she usually did on such occasions.

He then remembered Bingley, and said, "Miss Bennet, Mr. Bingley is very desirous of waiting on you as well. He should be here shortly."

Almost as soon as this was uttered, when Bingley's quick step was heard on the stairs, and in a moment he entered the room. He immediately entered into a conversation with Elizabeth and Georgiana returned to her brother. Darcy could tell from what he heard of Bingley's conversation with Elizabeth that Bingley's thoughts were on Miss Jane Bennet. Darcy felt a pang of guilt and determined the he would do everything he could to reverse their separation.

They staid above half an hour, and when they arose to depart, Darcy called on his sister to join him in expressing their wish of seeing Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner and Miss Bennet to dinner at Pemberley before they left the country. Georgiana, though nervous, readily obeyed. Mrs. Gardiner accepted for the whole party, and the day after the next was fixed on. Before they departed, Darcy renewed the fishing scheme, and made a positive engagement for Mr. Gardiner to meet then at Pemberley the next day by noon.

Chapter 25

Mr. Gardiner was punctual, and the gentlemen were soon engaged by the river. They had been there some time when Mr. Gardiner mentioned that the ladies of the family intended a visit to Georgiana that morning. As soon as was polite, Darcy departed for the house to see if Elizabeth had arrived.

When Darcy entered the saloon, he found the ladies gathered round the table eating fruit, cold meats, and cake. He joined Elizabeth and Georgiana and endeavored to improve their acquaintance by forwarding, as much as possible, every attempt at conversation on either side.

Unfortunately, they were soon interrupted by Miss Bingley, who said with sneering civility, "Pray, Miss Eliza, are not the militia removed from Meryton? They must be a great loss to your family."

Darcy knew she was referring to Wickham and was incensed. How could Miss Bingley so callously bring up so sensitive a subject? He knew not what to do. He glanced at Georgiana who was overcome with confusion and unable to lift up her eyes. He then looked earnestly at Elizabeth, and, amazingly, she rescued them. He saw her glance at himself and then at Georgiana; she then calmly and concisely answered Miss Bingley's question and changed the subject. From this point on, Darcy's eyes were fixed on Elizabeth as much as possible. He found himself more in love with her than ever and with more hope than ever that she could someday return his love.

The visit did not continue long after this and Darcy attended the ladies to their carriage. Miss Bingley, immediately upon his return to the room, said, "How very ill Eliza Bennet looks this morning, Mr. Darcy. I never in my life saw any one so much altered as she is since the winter. She is grown so brown and coarse! Louisa and I were agreeing that we should not have known her again."

Darcy did not like this at all, but, he contented himself with coolly replying that he perceived no other alteration than her being rather tanned--no miraculous consequence of travelling in the summer.

"For my own part," she rejoined, "I must confess that I never could see any beauty in her. Her face is too thin; her complexion has no brilliancy; and her features are not at all handsome. Her nose wants character; there is nothing marked in its lines. Her teeth are tolerable, but not out of the common way; and as for her eyes, which have sometimes been called so fine, I never could perceive any thing extraordinary in them. They have a sharp, shrewish look, which I do not like at all; and in her air altogether, there is a self-sufficiency without fashion which is intolerable."

Darcy was getting angrier with every word. He was resolutely silent however; and, Miss Bingley continued, "I remember, when we first knew her in Hertfordshire, how amazed we all were to find that she was a reputed beauty; and I particularly recollect your saying one night, after they had been dining at Netherfield, 'She a beauty!--I should as soon call her mother a wit.' But afterwards she seemed to improve on you, and I believe you thought her rather pretty at one time."

She had gone too far now and Darcy, could contain himself no longer. "Yes," he replied, "but that was only when I first knew her, for it is many months since I have considered her as one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance." He then left the room and returned to the other gentlemen at the river.

Chapter 26

Posted on Sunday, 19 August 2001

That night, Darcy's sleep was again filled with sweet dreams of Elizabeth. When he awoke, he found that he could not wait till dinner that evening to see her again. He would call on her in Lambton and offer his services as guide for the day. As soon as it was late enough, he set off for the inn.

As soon as he arrived, Darcy was shown into the parlour. But upon entering the room, instead of the pleasant scene he had expected, he found Elizabeth in an extremely agitated state. He started at her appearance. Her face was pale and she was behaving in an impetuous manner. Before he could recover from the shock of seeing her thus, she exclaimed,

"I beg your pardon, but I must leave you. I must find Mr Gardiner this moment, on business that cannot be delayed; I have not a moment to lose."

"Good God! what is the matter?" cried he, with more feeling than politeness; then recollecting himself, "I will not detain you a minute, but let me, or let the servant, go after Mr and Mrs Gardiner. You are not well enough;--you cannot go yourself."

Elizabeth hesitated, but after a moment, much to Darcy's relief, called back the servant. She commissioned him, though in so breathless an accent as made her almost unintelligible, to fetch his master and mistress home instantly.

Once this was done, Elizabeth appeared unable to support herself. Darcy helped her to a chair, and, as he did so, he could feel that she was trembling. This and her miserably ill appearance made it impossible for him to leave her, or to refrain from saying, in a tone of gentleness and commiseration, "Let me call your maid. Is there nothing you could take, to give you present relief?--A glass of wine;--shall I get you one?--You are very ill."

"No, I thank you;" she replied, "There is nothing the matter with me. I am quite well. I am only distressed by some dreadful news which I have just received from Longbourn."

She burst into tears as she said this, and for a few minutes could not speak another word. Darcy, said what little he could of his concern, and observed her in compassionate silence. He was in wretched suspense as to what could possibly have caused her such distress. At length, she spoke again. "I have just had a letter from Jane, with such dreadful news. It cannot be concealed from any one. My youngest sister has left all her friends--has eloped;--has thrown herself into the power of--of Mr Wickham. They are gone off together from Brighton. You know him too well to doubt the rest. She has no money, no connections, nothing that can tempt him to--she is lost for ever."

Darcy was fixed in astonishment. Wickham! Would he never be rid of that man? Would anyone he loved ever be safe from him?

"When I consider," Elizabeth added, in a yet more agitated voice, "that I might have prevented it!--I who knew what he was. Had I but explained some part of it only--some part of what I learnt--to my own family! Had his character been known, this could not have happened. But it is all, all too late now."

Darcy was shocked that she considered herself responsible. She was not responsible, he was. Her silence on the subject was his fault, he as sworn her to secrecy in his letter. He should have revealed Wickham's character to the world long ago. It was his foolish pride that has caused this. He wished he could express all that to Elizabeth, but the words would not come. His mind was racing as to what could be done.

"I am grieved, indeed," he cried; "grieved--shocked. But is it certain, absolutely certain?"

"Oh yes!--They left Brighton together on Sunday night, and were traced almost to London, but not beyond; they are certainly not gone to Scotland."

No, he had never expected that. Wickham could have no intention of actually marrying Miss Lydia. Her fortune was too small.

"And what has been done, what has been attempted, to recover her?"

"My father is gone to London, and Jane has written to beg my uncle's immediate assistance, and we shall be off, I hope, in half an hour. But nothing can be done; I know very well that nothing can be done. How is such a man to be worked on? How are they even to be discovered? I have not the smallest hope. It is every way horrible!"

Darcy shook his head in silent acquiescence. She said something else, again blaming herself but he scarcely heard her for he was walking up and down the room in earnest meditation. She was right, there was nothing that could be done by her father and uncle. They would never find them in London. He, however, could do something. He had information to guide a search which they did not. He would go to town himself and find them. If the situation could be repaired and hushed up, he would do that, if not, he would force Wickham to marry Miss Lydia.

After a pause of several minutes, he said with restraint, anxious not to reveal his plan to her, and with compassion, "I am afraid you have been long desiring my absence, nor have I any thing to plead in excuse of my stay, but real, though unavailing, concern. Would to heaven that any thing could be either said or done on my part, that might offer consolation to such distress!--But I will not torment you with vain wishes, which may seem purposely to ask for your thanks. This unfortunate affair will, I fear, prevent my sister's having the pleasure of seeing you at Pemberley today." He did not mention his own disappointment in the matter.

"Oh, yes. Be so kind as to apologize for us to Miss Darcy. Say that urgent business calls us home immediately. Conceal the unhappy truth as long as it is possible.--I know it cannot be long."

He readily assured her of his secrecy. Indeed he had no intention of telling any one. He was loathe to either distress Georgiana with news of Wickham or expose Elizabeth to the derision of Miss Bingley. He expressed again his sorrow for her distress, and wished it a happy conclusion. He left his compliments for her relations, and, with one serious, parting, look, he left the room.

Darcy returned to Pemberley immediately and set in motion the preparations for an early departure. He gave Elizabeth's apologies to Georgiana and apologized himself for leaving her in the company of Miss Bingley. He also gave Bingley a brief, though false, explanation and asked him to watch over Georgiana in his absence. He retired early that evening and was gone by first light the next morning.

Chapter 27

Once Darcy was settled in town, he went to the house of Georgiana's former companion, Mrs Younge, where she let lodgings. Mrs Younge was intimately acquainted with Wickham and Darcy hoped to find the fugitives housed under her roof.

Darcy was surprised to find the house in a neighborhood that, though poor, was respectable. After a little consideration, however, he realized that Mrs Younge must maintain at least the appearance of respectability if she was to pass herself off as a young ladies companion.

Mrs Younge did not wish to see Darcy and he had some difficulty gaining admittance to the house. But he refused to leave and she finally succumbed in order to get rid of him.

"What do you want?" Mrs Younge asked coldly when Darcy entered her parlour.

"I'm looking for Mr Wickham. Is he here?"

She hesitated before replying, "I have not seen Wickham in months. I have no idea where he is." It was an obvious lie.

"Come now, Mrs Younge, you do not expect me to believe that. You and he are such good friends, surely you have been in contact."

Darcy questioned Mrs Younge for over an hour trying to wear her down. But Mrs Younge persisted in her claim of ignorance.

"Very well, Mrs Younge," he finally said, "we are finished for tonight but I will be returning tomorrow."

The next day, Darcy spent several hours with Mrs Younge. He could tell she was growing weary of the game and she eventually admitted,

"Mr Wickham and a young lady came to me several days ago looking for lodgings."

"Then they are here?"

"No, I would gladly have taken them but I have no room at present."

Darcy was disappointed with this information but felt sure she knew where they were.

"If they are not here, then where are they?" he demanded.

"I can't tell you," she replied. Darcy sighed and prepared for another battle.

Mrs Younge finally relented the next day and gave Darcy the direction. but only after he had paid her a considerable sum of money. They were in Seven Dials, one of the most unsavory sections of London.

Darcy went to Seven Dials directly and quickly found the address. When he asked for Mr Wickham he was fetched down directly. Wickham was obviously surprised and displeased to see him but immediately employed his usual pleasing manners and duplicity.

"Darcy," he said, with a bright but fake smile, "how unexpected to see you. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Darcy glowered in return, and replied, "I am certain it is no more a pleasure for you than for me. And, I am equally certain that you know exactly why I am here. Where is she, Wickham?"

"Who do you mean?" replied Wickham, innocently.

"You know who I mean, Miss Lydia Bennet."

Wickham's complexion betrayed him for a moment but he calmly and very simply said, "Upstairs."

Darcy was surprised at the ease with which he had admitted it, but did not show it and continued his interrogation.

"Are you married?"

Wickham only laughed. "Does Miss Lydia know you do not intend to marry her?"

"Of course not."

"I must speak with her."

"You don't really think I am going to let you do that, do you Darcy?"

"You will, for I am not leaving until you do."

Wickham knew Darcy too well to think he had any chance of winning, therefore, after a few more words of protest, during which Darcy merely glared at him, he brought Miss Lydia down.

Miss Lydia did not appear to be at all unhappy in her situation and this worried Darcy. All his hopes of hushing up the affair lay with her. If he could not convince her to leave Wickham those hopes would be dashed.

Darcy made Wickham leave so he could speak with Miss Lydia alone. They were silent for a few minutes. Miss Lydia was not happy that Wickham had been sent away and Darcy did not know how to speak with her. He wished that he knew her better.

"Miss Lydia," he finally said, "Your family are quite concerned about you."

"They are not," she contradicted, "Mamma shall be quite proud to have me married, all my sisters will be so jealous, and Papa will be glad to have me off his hands."

Darcy knew her to be wrong, about her father and most of her sisters at least, but it would be useless to argue the point with her. Instead, he said, "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Miss Lydia, but you are not getting married."

"Of course I am."

"I'm sorry, but Mr Wickham has no intention of marrying you."

"Of course he does. George loves me."

"You must believe me. I have known Mr Wickham all my life and he would never willingly marry a girl with as small a fortune as yours."

"Why should I listen to you. I know what you did to George. I know you're jealous of him and want to ruin his happiness. I will not let you do it."

The irony was that it was she who would ruin his happiness and her own by insisting on marrying him. But it was clear she was not going to listen to him and he would have to force Wickham into the marriage.

"Very well, Miss Lydia, if that is what you want, I will make it happen. But, I beg you to reconsider. You do not know what you are doing."

This only made Miss Lydia angry. "I most certainly do, Mr Darcy," she stormed, stomping her foot. "And you do not need to make anything happen. George will marry me when he has time. Your help is not wanted."

With that she ran out of the room. Darcy felt a sense of failure but it was what he had expected. After a few minutes Wickham came back down.

"She will not leave you," said Darcy. Wickham looked triumphant but Darcy continued, "and since she will not, you will marry her."

"Oh no, Darcy," Wickham protested, "you cannot expect me to marry that silly little thing. And she has no money."

"You should have thought of that before you took her from Brighton. You will marry her."

"You will have to make me and I don't see how you will be able to do that."

"You are in debt, are you not? That is why you left Brighton?" Wickham nodded. "I will discharge your debts." Wickham shook his head and started to say something but Darcy continued, "and give you three thousand pounds."

This silenced Wickham and after a minute he consented.

"I shall inform Miss Bennet's relations and return in a day or two."

Without another word on either side, Darcy left the house.

Chapter 28

Posted on Thursday, 23 August 2001

After his encounter with Wickham and Miss Lydia, Darcy made his way to Gracechurch-street to see the Gardiners and inform them that the fugitives were found.

A respectable servant opened the door and inquired after Darcy's business.

"I am here to speak with Mr Gardiner on an important matter."

"I'm sorry, sir, but Mr Gardiner is locked up in his study with his brother in-law on an urgent matter. They are not to be disturbed, as Mr Bennet is returning to the country tomorrow."

Darcy almost told the man that his business was the same but realized that he would rather wait until Mr Bennet was gone. Mr Bennet did not strike him as a man whom he could properly consult. He would much prefer to conduct the business with Mr Gardiner only. He also wished to conceal his role in the affair from Elizabeth. He did not wish her to feel obligated to him. Therefore, the fewer people who knew the better. He declined leaving his name or card, thanked the servant and departed.

Darcy returned to Gracechurch-street the next morning and was soon shown into Mr. Gardiner's study.

"Mr Darcy!" the gentleman exclaimed in obvious surprise, "How very nice to see you. To what do I owe this great pleasure."

"Indeed, Mr. Gardiner, I am happy to see you as well. If we could sit down, I believe I have some information you will be glad to hear."

"Of course, please do sit down."

They were both seated and Darcy began, "Mr. Gardiner, I have discovered the whereabouts of your niece and Mr. Wickham."

Mr. Gardiner nearly fell out of his chair upon hearing this. "What? how? where?" he spluttered.

As soon as Mr. Gardiner recovered from his shock, Darcy explained everything to him, how and where he had found them and the arrangements he had already made.

"But why," asked Mr. Gardiner. "Why have you taken this upon yourself?"

"It is my fault that Mr. Wickham's worthlessness has not been so well know as to make it impossible for any young woman of character to love or confide in him. It is all, all because of me and my mistaken pride. I thought it beneath me to lay my private actions open to the world. It way duty, therefore, to step forward and remedy an evil which has been brought on by myself." Darcy's other motive was left unspoken but Mr. Gardiner understood it just the same.

The gentlemen had much to discuss. The wedding had to be planned, a settlement drawn up, and Wickham's debts accounted for and paid. It was soon decided that his profession would have to be provided for as well and it was determined that a commission in a northern regiment of the regulars would be best.

They worked together all day and when Darcy returned home that evening they were still not finished. When he returned to Gracechurch-street the next morning, Mrs. Gardiner was there as well. She had remained at Longbourn to be of assistance to her nieces until Mr. Bennet had returned. Darcy found her to be extremely helpful as they continued with the arrangements.

As the expenses mounted, Mr. Gardiner became more and more reluctant to allow Darcy to shoulder the whole of it. But Darcy was obstinate. They battled it together for some time but eventually Darcy was triumphant.

The day after Mrs. Gardiner returned, everything was settled. Wickham's debts would all be paid and he would be given an additional three thousand pounds as Darcy had already promised. He also added a thousand pounds to the dowry Miss Lydia would receive from her mother, and a commission had been purchased for Wickham with a regiment in Newcastle.

Wickham was persuaded to accept these terms though he tried for more. Miss Lydia was radiantly happy that her wedding day was named and her former anger against Darcy was forgotten. Mrs. Gardiner persuaded Lydia to remove to the house at Gracechurch-street, and more respectable lodgings were procured for Wickham.

As a final detail, Darcy extracted a promise from all parties that they not reveal his involvement. Wickham was quite eager to keep Darcy's role a secret and easily convinced Miss Lydia. Mr. Gardiner, however, protested, not wishing to take the credit for something he had not done. Darcy understood but was persistent. Elizabeth could not know.

Once everything was settled, an express was sent to Longbourn informing the family of the marriage arrangements and requesting from Mr. Bennet full powers to act in his name.

Darcy had no desire to remain in town and decided to return to Pemberley until the wedding. He spent ten days there enjoying the company of Georgiana and Bingley and avoiding Miss Bingley as much as possible. And wishing Miss Elizabeth were still there.

At the end of the ten days, Darcy returned to London to take care of a few last minute details and to attend the wedding.

The whole affair felt like a joke. Only Miss Lydia behaved as would be expected at a wedding. She was so radiantly happy that she did not notice the depressed spirits of everyone else including the groom. Everything went off and they were safely married. Mr. and Mrs. Wickham set off directly for Longbourn where they were invited to spend a few days before joining his regiment in Newcastle.

Before departing from the church, the Gardiners invited Darcy to dine with them the next day and he readily accepted. The dinner was quite pleasant. The Wickhams were not once mentioned and the conversation centered instead around Derbyshire, Pemberley, and Lambton. Darcy longed to speak of Elizabeth but could not bring himself to mention her. Luckily, the Gardiners did, though not enough for his satisfaction. The next day, Darcy again set off for Pemberley.

Chapter 29

Pemberley was relaxing after all the activity of the past few weeks. The company was completely agreeable as the Hursts and Miss Bingley had gone on to Scarborough. After only a few days, however, Darcy became unsettled. It was time to do something about Bingley and Miss Bennet.

Darcy was not sure how to go about it. He could just tell Bingley that he had been wrong. But he had no idea what Miss Bennet's feelings were now. He was now convinced that she had been in love with Bingley in the winter, but it had been nine months since they had seen each other. Many things could have happened in that time, she could even be in love with someone else by now. If he were to confess to Bingley now, he would be at Longbourn tomorrow proposing. And if Miss Bennet's feelings had changed, he would only have caused them both more pain than he already had. He finally decided that he must accompany Bingley to Longbourn and determine for himself the nature of Miss Bennet's feelings and then make his confession to Bingley.

One evening only a week after his arrival from London, Darcy made the proposal as casually as he could.

"Bingley," he said, "I believe Georgiana is nicely settled at Pemberley now. Why don't you and I go down to Netherfield for a few weeks? The shooting there is excellent, the sport we had there last year was some of the best I have ever had."

Bingley was surprised but readily agreed to the plan. They determined to depart in a week and Bingley went at once to write instructions to his housekeeper.

Now that the plan was in motion, Darcy was surprised to find that he felt more unsettled not less. He had to be honest with himself and admit that he was anxious to see Elizabeth. What would happen when he saw her? Was there any chance she could come to love him?

The week passed slowly, but finally they were settled at Netherfield. They immediately began visiting the neighbors, but Bingley did not suggest a visit to Longbourn or even mention the Bennets. Darcy waited for Bingley to do so for three days before finally suggesting it himself. Bingley seemed relieved and readily agreed. They rode over to Longbourn first thing the next morning.

Darcy felt his anxiety rise as they approached the house. What would he say to Elizabeth? How would she react to his arrival? Did she even know he was in the country?

The were shown into the sitting room upon their arrival and Darcy's eyes immediately sought Elizabeth. She had risen with the other ladies upon the entrance of the gentlemen and made a short formal greeting to each. She sat back down to her work quite eagerly. Darcy was disappointed but didn't know why.

Mrs. Bennet greeted Bingley with great enthusiasm, ensuring Darcy that her feelings, at least, had not changed. Her greeting to himself, by contrast, was cold and ceremonious. He did not mind, Mrs Bennet's inattention to him would give him a better opportunity to observe Miss Bennet and Bingley.

He was, however, puzzled by Elizabeth's silence. She glanced at him once but that was all. He enquired after Mr. and Mrs.. Gardiner and she answered with some confusion but said nothing else. After a few minutes, she enquired after Georgiana. He hoped this would begin a conversation between them but nothing else was said.

Darcy watched Elizabeth some minutes before he remembered that he was there to watch Miss Bennet not Elizabeth. He shifted his attention and observed Miss Bennet while he listened to Bingley's conversation with her mother.

"It is a long time, Mr. Bingley, since you went away," said Mrs. Bennet.

He readily agreed to it.

"I began to be afraid you would never come back again. People did say you meant to quit the place entirely at Michaelmas; but, however, I hope it is not true. A great many changes have happened in the neighbourhood, since you went away. Miss Lucas is married and settled. And one of my own daughters. I suppose you have heard of it; indeed, you must have seen it in the papers. It was in the Times and the Courier, I know; though it was not put in as it ought to be. It was only said, 'Lately, George Wickham, Esq. to Miss Lydia Bennet,' without there being a syllable said of her father, or the place where she lived, or any thing. It was my brother Gardiner's drawing up too, and I wonder how he came to make such an awkward business of it. Did you see it?"

Bingley replied that he did, and made his congratulations. Darcy wished she would drop the subject but doubted that she would. He wondered how Elizabeth was taking it but dared not look at her.

Mrs. Bennet continued, "It is a delightful thing, to be sure, to have a daughter well married, but at the same time, Mr. Bingley, it is very hard to have her taken such a way from me. They are gone down to Newcastle, a place quite northward, it seems, and there they are to stay I do not know how long. His regiment is there; for I suppose you have heard of his leaving the -----shire, and of his being gone into the regulars. Thank Heaven! he has some friends, though perhaps not so many as he deserves."

Darcy knew this to be leveled at himself but he steadfastly ignored it. It confirmed that the Bennets indeed were ignorant of his role in the Wickham's wedding. The unexpected result was of this was that is impelled Elizabeth to speak and she asked Bingley how long he intended to stay in the country. Darcy was grateful. This directed the conversation away from himself and the thought that she had likely interpreted her mother's intent and done it on purpose gratified him the more. She said no more and the conversation continued between Mrs. Bennet and Bingley.

Darcy returned his attention to Miss Bennet. She often seemed distracted from her work and her eyes were often on Bingley. She did not talk so much as he remembered but neither did Elizabeth. Perhaps the presence of their very chatty mother caused the difference. All in all things looked good for Bingley.

When the gentlemen rose to go away, Mrs. Bennet invited them to dine at Longbourn in a few days time. Bingley readily accepted.

"You are quite a visit in my debt, Mr. Bingley," she added, "for when you went to town last winter, you promised to take a family dinner with us, as soon as you returned. I have not forgot, you see; and I assure you, I was very much disappointed that you did not come back and keep your engagement."

Darcy felt guilty and Bingley looked a little silly at this reflection and Bingley said something of his concern at having been prevented by business. They then went away.

Darcy was satisfied that Miss Bennet was still in love with Bingley and he would make the important communication after the dinner at Longbourn.

His meeting with Elizabeth was a different matter. Why had they been unable to speak to each other? In Derbyshire things has been so different, they had had such pleasant conversations there. He didn't know what to make of it. Was there any hope for him? He did not dare conjecture.

Chapter 30

Posted on Sunday, 26 August 2001

Darcy and Bingley did not see the family at Longbourn again until Tuesday. They were very punctual to their time and found that Mrs. Bennet had assembled a large party. When they repaired to the dining-room, Bingley seated himself next to Miss Bennet causing Darcy more guilty feelings with the expression of half-laughing alarm that was flashed in his direction. He also felt Elizabeth's eyes on him and wondered what she was thinking. Probably wondering if he approved or not.

Darcy was not so fortunate as Bingley; Elizabeth was almost as far from him as the table could divide them. To make matters worse, he was seated directly next to Mrs. Bennet. Fortunately she did not find it necessary to talk to him much.

He was in hopes that the evening would afford some opportunity of bringing them together; that the whole of the visit would not pass away without enabling them to enter into something more of conversation than the mere ceremonious salutation attending his entrance. He was relieved when at last the ladies adjourned to the drawing but was then anxious and uneasy till the he could join them. At last, after what had seemed forever, Mr. Bennet suggested that they join the ladies.

Elizabeth was at the table, pouring out the coffee, where Miss Bennet was making tea. Unfortunately, there were several other young ladies crowded around the table and there was not a single vacancy near her. And on his approaching, one of the girls moved closer to her than ever and said, in a whisper, though loud enough for him to hear, "The men shan't come and part us, I am determined. We want none of them; do we?"

There was no way for Darcy to respond to that and though Elizabeth did not seem to agree, he walked away to another part of the room. His eyes were often on her and occasionally he found hers on him. He envied every one to whom she spoke and soon made another attempt by taking back his coffee cup himself. She immediately took the opportunity of saying, "Is your sister at Pemberley still?"

"Yes, she will remain there till Christmas."

"And quite alone? Have all her friends left her?"

"Mrs Annesley is with her. The others have been gone on to Scarborough, these three weeks."

The conversation failed; he could think of nothing more to say and, apparently, neither could she. He stood by her, however, for some minutes in silence until, on the young lady's whispering to Elizabeth again, he walked away.

When the tea-things were removed, and the card tables placed, the ladies all rose, and he was about to join her, when he fell a victim to her mother, Mrs. Bennet, who insisted that he sit down to whist. He now lost every expectation of pleasure. They were confined for the evening at different tables, and he had nothing to hope, but that her eyes were so often turned towards his side of the room, as to make her play as unsuccessfully as himself.

He did not even have an opportunity of speaking with her after the card tables broke up, for Bingley's carriage was ordered before any of the others and they departed.

Chapter 31

A few days after the dinner party, the time came for Darcy to make his confession to Bingley. It was a matter of some anxiety. He knew he deserved to lose Bingley's friendship forever over this, yet he hoped it would not be so.

After supper that evening, the gentlemen were sitting together in the library over glasses of brandy, when Darcy began. "Bingley, there is a matter of some importance I must discuss with you."

"What is it, Darcy?"

Darcy could not say immediately and began, instead, to pace about the room.

Bingley began to look alarmed, and exclaimed, "Come man, out with it. Darcy, what it the matter?"

Darcy took a deep breath and said in a hurried manner, "Bingley, I owe you an apology."

Bingley laughed, and said, "You owe me and apology. It can't be very serious, Darcy. Whatever it is, you are forgiven. Forget about it and say no more."

This grieved Darcy. It proved to him even more the value of the friend he was about to lose. "No, Bingley, you must hear me out. Bingley, I I now know that when I told you that Miss Jane Bennet did not return your affection, I was wrong."

Bingley was silent for a few minutes, then whispered, "You mean, you now believe she was in love with me last winter?"

"Yes, Bingley, and that is not all; not only was but is."

Bingley leapt to his feet, his face aglow with joy. "But Darcy, this is wonderful news. What have you to apologize for?"

"Wait, Bingley, I have not yet tell you all. Please sit down and do not say a word until I have told you everything."

"Of course, Darcy. Pray continue."

"Bingley, last winter, I did everything in my power to separate you and Miss Bennet. And the reason was not my belief in her indifference, though that was sincere. My pride, my abominable pride, revolted at the thought of my friend marrying so far beneath himself in wealth, connections, and most sense. I must here assure you that I never thought ill of Miss Bennet's sense, only that of her relations. Now, Bingley, you hear the worst. Miss Bennet was in town for three months last winter, I knew it and I purposely kept it from you. My behavior during the whole was absurd and impertinent and I apologize, Bingley. I know I do not deserve it, but I hope some day you will find it in your heart to forgive me."

Darcy had not dared to look at Bingley during his whole speech and when he finally found the courage to do so, Bingley was sitting still and silent staring into the fire. He remained so for several minutes during which Darcy was in agony. They were some of the worst minutes of his whole life and he wished Bingley would say something, even if it was to throw his out of Netherfield. He could bare anything better than this silence.

At last, Bingley said, in a strangled voice, "What gave you the right, Darcy?"

"I thought I knew what was best for you. I was wrong, I'm sorry."

"But what gave you the right to decide that." Suddenly Bingley was up and pacing. "God, what must Jane think of me? She must think I abandoned her. She must have been as miserable as I have this year. How can I ever make this up to her? Darcy, have you any idea what pain you have inflicted on us?"

"Yes, Bingley, I do."

"You cannot," Bingley was shouting now, "you have never been in love, you cannot know."

Darcy did know but he had no right to contradict his friend in this matter.

Darcy had never seen Bingley so angry before, not even close, and he knew he deserved it. But Bingley's anger flashed white hot then died quickly. Before long he had calmed down considerably and he resumed his seat. "Darcy, I am very disappointed in you and quite angry, but that shall pass. I dare say, at the time you thought you were acting in my best interest. I have noticed the change in you in the past months and, if I am not mistaken, this confession is a result of that. Now, are you absolutely certain Jane loves me."

"Yes, Bingley, I am. My purpose in coming to Hertfordshire was to determine that. I have observed her during our recent visits and am convinced of it."

"In that case, you are forgiven, Darcy. You have cost us a year but all will be well and we shall think no more of it."

"Thank you, Bingley. I do not deserve it and that makes my gratitude felt all the more."

"Think no more of it, Darcy."

Darcy resumed his seat and both gentlemen were silent for some time lost in their thoughts. After a quarter of an hour, Bingley suddenly said, "Darcy, may I ask you something?"

"Yes, of course."

"You said your behavior had been absurd. What did you mean by that?"

Darcy felt his colour rise. He did not wish to discuss this but knew Bingley deserved an answer. "I suppose I have another confession to make. Long before I separated you from Miss Bennet, I...I was completely and hopelessly in love with her sister, Elizabeth."

Bingley choked on his brandy and nearly dropt the glass. That was the last thing he had expected to hear. "You are in love with Miss Elizabeth?" he said, once he had recovered, "but I thought you didn't even like her. You refused to dance with her."

"That was before I knew her. And I did dance with her at your ball. You were too busy with Miss Bennet to notice."

"She is perfect for you, Darcy."

"I know it. It was she who wrought the change in me."

"She did? I do not understand, you must explain. Until you saw her at Pemberley, you had not seen her in above eight months."

"You are mistaken. When I last went to Rosings she was there visiting the Collinses." He then related the story of his proposal, her refusal, and the change those events has wrought on his character.

Suddenly Bingley remembered what he had said earlier, "Oh, Darcy, I am sorry about what I said about your not understanding my pain. Your pain must have been so much greater than mine."

"Do not apologize, Bingley, you did not know, and I deserved everything you said to me."

"Surely Miss Elizabeth does not hate you any longer?"

"No, she does not. But I am not at all certain that she will ever love me."

"But surely the service you have lately rendered her family must be in your favour."

Darcy started. "How do you know about that, Bingley?"

"I didn't, but your sudden departure from Pemberley and your business in London coincide perfectly with the drama of the Wickham's marriage. Now with this additional knowledge, it is rather obvious."

"Yes, I did it all, but Elizabeth does not know and I do not intend that she ever shall."

"But, why not?"

"I do not want her to feel obligated to me. When she marries me I want it to be because she loves me and not out of gratitude."

"I understand. I wish you luck, Darcy."

"Thank you, Bingley. I shall need it."

"Now Darcy, will you accompany me to Longbourn tomorrow?"

"No, Bingley. I shall go to town tomorrow. I should only be in your way for the business you intend. And the happiness you shall soon enjoy would be too much to bear just now."

"Very well, but do not stay away too long. You cannot win her from town."

"No, I shall return in about ten days. Now, Bingley, it very late and I wish to leave early in the morning. Thank you again for your forgiveness. Goodnight."

Darcy retired directly, but Bingley had to much to think about to retire at all that night.

Chapter 32

Posted on Thursday, 30 August 2001

The next morning, Darcy departed for London. He didn't know what he was going to do there, but he had to get away from Hertfordshire, Longbourn, and Elizabeth. He had been truthful in what he had told Bingley about getting out of his way, but that had really only been an excuse. He had to have some time to himself to think things through.

He didn't know what was happening between himself and Elizabeth. He knew she did not hate him anymore. He was even fairly certain that she liked him, at least thought of him as a friend. But was there anything more than that?

He had begun to think so at Pemberley, that she might be falling in love him there. If only Wickham hadn't interfered cutting short her stay. Who knew what might have happened at the dinner they were to have shared the very day she left. It must certainly have gone better than the one they had so recently shared at Longbourn.

Everything had been wrong at Longbourn. They had not been able to have a single conversation of more than a few moments. Everyone and everything had seemed set against them. His only consolation was that she had seemed as frustrated by it as he. But he had not been able to judge of her feelings. He wanted to ask her to marry him again but he would not go into it blindly as he had before.

When Darcy arrived in town, he set about doing the things he usually did in London. He frequented his club, visited his favourite book shops, checked at the music sellers for Georgiana, and checked up on all his business affairs. Few of his friends were in town at this time of year so there were no business calls. He thought of calling on the Gardiners certain that they would be happy to see him. But he thought better of it, the Gardiners would only remind him even more of Elizabeth.

The fourth evening in town, Darcy received an express from Bingley announcing his engagement to Miss Bennet. He asked Darcy to stand up for him and begged him to return to Netherfield. Darcy was overjoyed by the news, though somewhat saddened at this contrast with the state of his own love affair. He immediately sent off a note of congratulations, informing Bingley that he would be honoured to stand up for him and that he would return within the time he had stated.

Chapter 33

One evening, a few days after receiving Bingley's letter, Darcy was sitting in his library when he heard the bell ring. He wasn't expecting anyone and wondered who it could be. He didn't have to wonder long. He soon heard the not so gentle tones of Lady Catherine in the hall. Darcy groaned. What was she doing there? She so rarely left Rosings. And she was the last person he wished to see.

Without waiting to be announced, Lady Catherine burst into the room. She appeared to be in a terrible temper.

"Lady Catherine," Darcy stammered as he rose to his feet, "what an unexpected pleasure. Please sit down. Can I get you some refreshment?"

"No Darcy, I have come to inform you of a most scandalous report involving yourself."

What could she be talking about? "A report about me? What is it, Lady Catherine?"

"A report of the most alarming nature reached me two days ago. I was told that you were engaged to Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

Darcy was stunned. He had to grab the back of a chair to steady himself.

"How . . . how could such a report have come about?"

"I have no doubt that it was circulated by those vicious Bennets in an effort to trap you. I have just returned from confronting Miss Bennet at Longbourn."

What!? "You went to see Miss Bennet?" How could she? "What . . . what did she say?"

"I was most displeased with her response. It will shock and grieve you."

Darcy doubted it. Whatever Elizabeth had said couldn't be more shocking than his aunt's behaviour.

"Lady Catherine," he said, "please sit down and tell me the whole story." She did so but Darcy remained standing.

"Miss Bennet acted most surprised to see me, claiming she could not account for my being there. She then denied any knowledge of the report. I knew this to be false and told her so. She refused to answer many of my questions and those that she did, were answered with abominable rudeness." Darcy was certain that the questions had been asked with a greater degree of rudeness. "I told her of your engagement to Anne but this she refused to credit."

Darcy could not remain silent at this. "You told her I am engaged to Anne! But I am not."

"Perhaps to formally but you soon will be." Darcy was too anxious to hear the rest of the story to enter into an argument on that point now.

"I told her that she should not expect to be noticed by your family and friends if she were to marry you, that she would be censured, slighted and despised, that her name would never be mentioned by any of us. You will be shocked by her response. She clearly cares for nothing but you money and position. She said that your wife must have 'such extraordinary sources of happiness necessarily attached to her situation, that she could, upon the whole, have no cause to repine.'"

Lady Catherine was right. Darcy was indeed shocked. "Did she . . . did she really say that?"

"Those were her exact words, Darcy."

Darcy began to feel hopeful. Elizabeth had said that his wife would have "extraordinary sources of happiness" and he knew she did not mean his money.

"She finally admitted to me that you were not engaged," Lady Catherine continued. "I then insisted that she promise me to never enter into such an engagement. This she absolutely refused to do, saying she was resolved to act in a manner that would constitute her own happiness without reference to anyone unconnected with her. She refused to credit my connection to your as almost your nearest relation."

Darcy's head began to spin with a sudden sense of euphoria and he had to sit down. He know hoped as he had never hoped before. She must love him. He was certain that if she was resolved against him, she would have told Lady Catherine so.

"I told her," Lady Catherine continued, "that her ambition would not be gratified, that I would speak with you and carry my point. Darcy, I must now ask you for the promise Miss Bennet refused to give me."

"I am sorry, aunt, I cannot. I thank you most heartily for your intelligence. You have given me the assurances I need. You need no longer worry about that report, I shall take care of it tomorrow."

Lady Catherine began to splutter with anger. "I see Miss Bennet has taken you in. I hope you come to your senses for if you do not you will surely regret it."

Darcy was seething. "Lady Catherine, I cannot allow you to speak of the woman I intend to make my wife in that way. She has not taken me in. I love her and I will marry her if she will have me. You will please leave my house."

With that Darcy quitted the room. A few minutes later he heard Lady Catherine quit the house and her carriage drive away.

The events of the last half hour had left Darcy in shock. Elizabeth must love him, she must. He would depart for Netherfield first thing in the morning and at the earliest opportunity he would renew his proposals.

Chapter 34

Posted on Saturday, 8 September 2001

Darcy was on the road the next day by noon and arrived at Netherfield in such good time that Bingley was not yet returned from Longbourn. He was tempted to go there directly himself, but decided against it. He was travel weary and a bundle of nervous energy. He would be much more presentable if he relaxed this evening and got a good night's sleep, if he was able to sleep at all.

Bingley was very glad to see him when he arrived later that evening. Darcy listened in anticipation to Bingley's descriptions of the delights of courtship. If everything went for him, he would be enjoying those delights himself in a day or two.

The next morning, both gentlemen left early for Longbourn. They were shown into the parlour, and Darcy quickly caught Elizabeth's eye. Before they could all sit down, Bingley, who wanted to be alone with Miss Bennet, proposed their all walking out. Darcy was grateful, this would give him the best opportunity to be alone with Elizabeth. Mrs Bennet and Miss Mary declined, but the remaining five set off together. Bingley and Miss Bennet, however soon allowed the others to outstrip them. They lagged behind while Darcy, Elizabeth, and Miss Catherine were to entertain each other.

Darcy was desperately trying to think of a way of getting rid of Miss Catherine, when she solved the problem for him. They were approaching the Lucas's, and she expressed a wish of calling on Miss Maria Lucas. Elizabeth made no objection. Miss Catherine left them and they went on together, alone.

Now was the time to speak but before he could, Elizabeth said,

"Mr Darcy, I am a very selfish creature; and, for the sake of giving relief to my own feelings, care not how much I may be wounding your's. I can no longer help thanking you for your unexampled kindness to my poor sister. Ever since I have known it, I have been most anxious to acknowledge to you how gratefully I feel it. Were it known to the rest of my family, I should not have merely my own gratitude to express."

This revelation brought to his feelings both relief and distress. "I am sorry, exceedingly sorry," replied he, "that you have ever been informed of what may, in a mistaken light, have given you uneasiness. I did not think Mrs Gardiner was so little to be trusted."

"You must not blame my aunt. Lydia's thoughtlessness first betrayed to me that you had been concerned in the matter; and, of course, I could not rest till I knew the particulars." Lydia, he should have realized that Miss Lydia would not be able to hold her tongue. "Let me thank you again and again," Elizabeth continued, "in the name of all my family, for that generous compassion which induced you to take so much trouble, and bear so many mortifications, for the sake of discovering them."

He could not let her go on in this way. "If you will thank me," he replied, "let it be for yourself alone. That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny. But your family owe me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe I thought only of you."

Elizabeth looked away and said nothing. Darcy was not sure how to interpret that but realizing he would never have a better opportunity added, "You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever."

The few moments before she responded stretched into eternity, but she finally said, "Mr Darcy, since the time to which you allude, my feelings have undergone so material a change that I now receive your present assurances with gratitude and pleasure."

It took Darcy a moment to comprehend what she had said and when he finally did, the happiness which her reply produced, was such as he had never felt before. "Miss Bennet," he began, then changed his mind, "Elizabeth . . ." He paused unsure of how she would react to this liberty he had allowed himself. He glanced at her sideways and saw that she was blushing and, much to his relief, a most beautiful smile graced her lips.

"Elizabeth," he said again, "I know not how to express how very happy you have made me." He stopt and took both her hands in his. He could not look her in the eye and stared at their hands instead. "Please tell me, Elizabeth, that you will marry me and be my wife."

"Please look at me," Elizabeth whispered. Darcy did so, afraid of what he might see, but Elizabeth was smiling though there were tears in her eyes. "Yes, I will marry you. I cannot see myself married to any other... Fitzwilliam."

Darcy had never cared for his Christian name but it sounded musical when Elizabeth said it. He had always imagined that his wife would call him Fitz like Georgiana did but now he did not want her to.

"You must smile more, Fitzwilliam," said Elizabeth pulling Darcy from his reverie.

"What?" he had not known that he was smiling but now realized he was smiling more broadly than he ever had before.

"You must smile more. I have rarely seen you really smile and it becomes you well."

"I believe, with you by my side, I shall smile all the time."

Finally Darcy released Elizabeth's hands. He instead offered her his arm which she gladly took and he placed his other hand on top of hers at his elbow.

They walked on, without knowing in what direction. There was too much to be thought, and felt, and said, for attention to any other objects. He told her of Lady Catherine's visit and the feelings it had evoked.

"It taught me to hope," said he, "as I had scarcely ever allowed myself to hope before. I knew enough of your disposition to be certain that, had you been absolutely, irrevocably decided against me, you would have acknowledged it to Lady Catherine, frankly and openly."

Elizabeth coloured and laughed as she replied, "Yes, you know enough of my frankness to believe me capable of that. After abusing you so abominably to your face, I could have no scruple in abusing you to all your relations."

"What did you say of me, that I did not deserve? For, though your accusations were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises, my behaviour to you at the time had merited the severest reproof. It was unpardonable. I cannot think of it without abhorrence."

"We will not quarrel for the greater share of blame annexed to that evening," said Elizabeth. "The conduct of neither, if strictly examined, will be irreproachable; but since then, we have both, I hope, improved in civility."

"I cannot be so easily reconciled to myself. The recollection of what I then said, of my conduct, my manners, my expressions during the whole of it, is now, and has been many months, inexpressibly painful to me. Your reproof, so well applied, I shall never forget: 'had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner.' Those were your words. You know not, you can scarcely conceive, how they have tortured me;--though it was some time, I confess, before I was reasonable enough to allow their justice."

"I was certainly very far from expecting them to make so strong an impression. I had not the smallest idea of their being ever felt in such a way."

"I can easily believe it. You thought me then devoid of every proper feeling, I am sure you did. The turn of your countenance I shall never forget, as you said that I could not have addressed you in any possible way that would induce you to accept me."

"Oh! do not repeat what I then said. These recollections will not do at all. I assure you that I have long been most heartily ashamed of it."

Darcy mentioned his letter. "Did it," said he, "did it soon make you think better of me? Did you, on reading it, give any credit to its contents?"

"At first, no" she admitted, "On my first perusal, I dismissed the whole as false, but the contents would not leave me. The second, rendered to me your conduct less than infamous, and the third proved you blameless throughout the whole. I grew absolutely ashamed of myself.--Of neither you nor Wickham could I think, without feeling that I had been blind, partial, prejudiced, absurd. Regarding my family, it took a little longer. But I soon became reasonable and allowed the justice of your opinions. The compliment to myself and Jane was not unfelt and gradually all my former prejudices were removed."

"I knew," said he, "that what I wrote must give you pain, but it was necessary. I hope you have destroyed the letter. There was one part especially, the opening of it, which I should dread your having the power of reading again. I can remember some expressions which might justly make you hate me."

"The letter shall certainly be burnt, if you believe it essential to the preservation of my regard; but, though we have both reason to think my opinions not entirely unalterable, they are not, I hope, quite so easily changed as that implies."

"When I wrote that letter," replied Darcy, "I believed myself perfectly calm and cool, but I am since convinced that it was written in a dreadful bitterness of spirit."

"The letter, perhaps, began in bitterness, but it did not end so. The adieu is charity itself. But think no more of the letter. The feelings of the person who wrote, and the person who received it, are now so widely different from what they were then, that every unpleasant circumstance attending it ought to be forgotten. You must learn some of my philosophy. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure."

"I cannot give you credit for any philosophy of the kind. Your retrospections must be so totally void of reproach, that the contentment arising from them is not of philosophy, but, what is much better, of innocence. But with me, it is not so. Painful recollections will intrude which cannot, which ought not, to be repelled. I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child I was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Unfortunately an only son (for many years an only child), I was spoilt by my parents, who, though good themselves (my father, particularly, all that was benevolent and amiable), allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing; to care for none beyond my own family circle; to think meanly of all the rest of the world; to wish at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own. Such I was, from eight to eight and twenty; and such I might still have been but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! What do I not owe you! You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you, I was properly humbled. I came to you without a doubt of my reception. You shewed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased."

"Had you then persuaded yourself that I should?"

"Indeed I had. What will you think of my vanity? I believed you to be wishing, expecting my addresses."

"My manners must have been in fault, but not intentionally, I assure you. I never meant to deceive you, but my spirits might often lead me wrong. How you must have hated me after that evening?"

"Hate you! I was angry perhaps at first, but my anger soon began to take a proper direction."

"I am almost afraid of asking what you thought of me, when we met at Pemberley. You blamed me for coming?"

"No indeed; I felt nothing but surprise."

"Your surprise could not be greater than mine in being noticed by you. My conscience told me that I deserved no extraordinary politeness, and I confess that I did not expect to receive more than my due."

"My object then," replied Darcy, "was to shew you, by every civility in my power, that I was not so mean as to resent the past; and I hoped to obtain your forgiveness, to lessen your ill opinion, by letting you see that your reproofs had been attended to. How soon any other wishes introduced themselves I can hardly tell, but I believe in about half an hour after I had seen you."

"Georgiana was delighted to make your acquaintance, indeed she had been most anxiously wishing it."

"As was I," replied Elizabeth, "I very much look forward to renewing it."

"She was excessively disappointed at its sudden interruption." This naturally led to the cause of that interruption. "Elizabeth, the sight of you at the inn with your sister's letter was the most distressing sight of my whole life," said Darcy, his voice full of emotion. "Then you said it was your fault. I knew it wasn't but I couldn't find the words to tell you so. I decided right then that I would go London to save you from that distress."

"That was why you were so grave and thoughtful. I thought it was because of the disgrace Lydia had brought upon me. When you left, I was certain I would never see you again."

"Oh! Elizabeth. I'm so sorry. I didn't know . . . I didn't mean to leave with that impression."

She expressed her gratitude again, but it was too painful a subject to each, to be dwelt on farther.

After walking several miles in a leisurely manner, and too busy to know any thing about it, they found at last, on examining their watches, that it was time to be at home.

"What could become of Mr Bingley and Jane!" was a wonder which introduced the discussion of their affairs. Darcy assured Elizabeth of his delight with their engagement.

"I must ask whether you were surprised?" said Elizabeth.

"Not at all. When I went away, I felt that it would soon happen."

"That is to say, you had given your permission. I guessed as much." He was surprised and protested but, eventually, had to admit that it had been pretty much the case.

"On the evening before my going to London," said he, "I made a confession to him, which I believe I ought to have made long ago. I told him of all that had occurred to make my former interference in his affairs absurd and impertinent. His surprise was great. He had never had the slightest suspicion. I told him, moreover, that I believed myself mistaken in supposing, as I had done, that your sister was indifferent to him; and as I could easily perceive that his attachment to her was unabated, I felt no doubt of their happiness together."

"Did you speak from your own observation," said she, "when you told him that my sister loved him, or merely from my information last spring?"

"From the former. I had narrowly observed her during the two visits which I had lately made here; and I was convinced of her affection."

"And your assurance of it, I suppose, carried immediate conviction to him."

"It did. Bingley is most unaffectedly modest. His diffidence had prevented his depending on his own judgment in so anxious a case, but his reliance on mine made every thing easy. I was obliged to confess one thing, which for a time, and not unjustly, offended him. I could not allow myself to conceal that your sister had been in town three months last winter, that I had known it, and purposely kept it from him. He was angry. But his anger, I am persuaded, lasted no longer than he remained in any doubt of your sister's sentiments. He has heartily forgiven me now."

In anticipating the happiness of Bingley, which of course was to be inferior only to his own, he continued the conversation till they reached the house. In the hall they parted.

Chapter 35

"My dear Lizzy, where can you have been walking to?" was a question which Elizabeth received from everyone when they sat down to table. She replied, in some confusion, that they had wandered about, till she was beyond her own knowledge. She coloured as she spoke and Darcy almost smiled when he saw it; but neither that, nor any thing else, awakened a suspicion of the truth.

The evening passed quietly, unmarked by any thing extraordinary. The acknowledged lovers talked and laughed, the unacknowledged were silent. Darcy was not of a disposition in which happiness overflows in mirth; and Elizabeth, he knew, was anxious about the upcoming disclosures to her family. He could hardly keep his eyes off her all evening and hers were usually on him as well. He looked forward to the time when he and Elizabeth could behave as Bingley and Miss Bennet did.

When the gentlemen returned to Netherfield, Bingley asked,

"Darcy, what were you and Miss Elizabeth doing for so long today?"

"I asked her again to marry me."

Bingley waited but Darcy, lost in remembrance said no more. Finally Bingley said, with a touch of exasperation,

"Well, Darcy, what did she say?"

The light in Darcy's eyes told Bingley all he needed to know and Darcy confirmed, "She said, 'yes.' She loves me, Bingley."

"Darcy, that is wonderful. I can hardly believe it. Jane and I have discussed this and we thought of it as impossible. Darcy we shall be brothers. Miss Elizabeth and yourself must be married with Jane and I. I am certain the ladies will agree."

Bingley continued in this way for some time, and half the night was spent in conversation.

Chapter 36

Posted on Tuesday, 9 October 2001

The gentlemen were again early at Longbourn. Darcy, anxious to spend the day with his Elizabeth, could not get there early enough. When they arrived, Miss Bennet, after greeting her fiancé, smiled at Darcy warmly and he knew she was aware of the state of affairs between himself and Elizabeth. Before they all sat down, Bingley said, "Mrs. Bennet, have you no more lanes hereabouts in which Lizzy may lose her way again to day?"

"I advise Mr. Darcy, and Lizzy, and Kitty," said Mrs. Bennet, "to walk to Oakham Mount this morning. It is a nice long walk, and Mr. Darcy has never seen the view."

"It may do very well for the others," replied Mr. Bingley; "but I am sure it will be too much for Kitty. Won't it, Kitty?" Miss Catherine owned that she had rather stay at home. Darcy professed a great curiosity to see the view from the Mount, and Elizabeth silently consented. Darcy made a mental note to thank Bingley later.

As soon as they were beyond the house, Elizabeth took Darcy's arm and they walked in silence for some time, simply enjoying being in each other's company. At length Darcy said,

"Elizabeth, I should like to speak with your father this evening, if that is agreeable to you."

"Of course, Fitzwilliam. I should not like to spend many more evenings as we did last night. I was quite jealous of Jane and Mr. Bingley. Besides," she added with a sparkle in her eye, "we must relieve Mr. Bingley of the necessity of finding excuses for us to be alone together."

Darcy smiled but he detected a hint of anxiety in Elizabeth's manner.

"What is the matter, Elizabeth?"

"Nothing," she replied a bit hesitantly.

"Are you certain?" Darcy pressed.

"It is just that my father is going to be surprised. I . . . I did not exactly keep my former opinions of you a secret and no one but Jane knows of any alteration in them."

"Do not worry, Elizabeth. Everything will be alright. Surely he will not refuse his consent."

"No, but he will probably be made unhappy and it may take some doing to convince him of my attachment. I have already had some trouble convincing Jane."

Darcy took Elizabeth's hand in his own and squeezed it reassuringly. "I believe the best course will be to get it over with as soon as possible." He then broached a subject which worried him a bit more. "How shall your mother react?"

"I do not know," Elizabeth sighed. "She shall either be violently opposed or violently delighted. I shall tell her myself, after you are gone."

They were silent again for awhile, until Elizabeth said, "Fitzwilliam, when shall we be married? Do you wish for a long engagement?"

"No indeed, I have waited long enough already. I do not believe we can properly determine until we have your father's consent but Bingley and I discussed it last night and he has invited us to share his and Miss Bennet's wedding day. Would you like that, Elizabeth?"

"Oh, yes. Very much."

The day passed with much conversation and soon Darcy was following Mr. Bennet to his library. A glance at Elizabeth as he left the room showed her to be extremely anxious. Darcy felt so himself as he knocked on the library door and Mr. Bennet called with just a touch of annoyance in his voice for him to come in.

Mr. Bennet was clearly surprised to see Darcy enter the room. After a moment of confusion he asked, "Is Mrs. Bennet too much for you Mr. Darcy. I should be happy to offer you sanctuary. I know you will not mind if we do not have any conversation."

"Actually, Mr. Bennet, sir, there is an important matter I would discuss with you."

This surprised Mr. Bennet even more but he indicated for Darcy to proceed. Darcy was suddenly tongue-tied. This was far worse than proposing had been. He soon discovered that Mr. Bennet was looking at him quite oddly and he realized that he had not said anything for some time.

"Mr. Bennet, sir," he finally said, "I have come to ask your permission to marry your daughter, Elizabeth."

Mr. Bennet just stared at him and Darcy became even more nervous. After several minutes he finally said, "Mr. Darcy, I am not certain that I heard you correctly just now. Did you say that you wish to marry Elizabeth?"

"Yes, sir. I love her and I would have her for my wife."

"Have you spoken to her about it?"

"Yes, sir, yesterday. She has consented."

"Are you certain?"

It was Darcy's turn to be surprised. He had expected reluctance but to not be believed. "Yes, sir," he stammered.

Mr. Bennet suddenly looked embarrassed. "I apologize. Of course you are or you would not be here. I am quite surprised, Mr. Darcy, I had no idea you even liked Elizabeth and, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but I know she does not like you. I am quite at a loss as to why she has accepted you."

"I know that was the case once but a lot has happened since then." He hoped Mr. Bennet would not ask him to explain.

"How long have you loved her?"

"Almost from the moment I met her, sir."

"Mr. Darcy, I have no need to ask about your ability to provide for her, but can you make my Lizzy happy."

"She tells me that I can and I assure you, sir, I shall do everything in my power to make her so."

"Very well, Mr. Darcy, you have my consent. But I would like to speak with Elizabeth. Will you please send her in?"

"Yes, of course, sir. Thank you very much, Mr. Bennet." They shook hands and Darcy left the room.

Darcy returned directly to the drawing room. On catching Elizabeth's eye he smiled to assure her of the success of the interview. After a few minutes, he approached the table where she was sitting with Miss Catherine and while pretending to admire her work said in a whisper, "Go to your father, he wants you in the library." She was gone directly.

She was absent for quite some time, at least an hour. When she finally did return, Darcy thought he detected evidence of recent tears. Darcy wished to comfort her and find out what had happened. But Elizabeth returned to her seat with Miss Catherine at the table. Darcy soon found an excuse to join then but he and Elizabeth did not have an opportunity for private conversation before he and Bingley returned to Netherfield.

Chapter 37

The next day, Darcy approached Longbourn with some trepidation unsure of what his reception would be now that his engagement was known. The change in his status was immediately obvious. Mrs. Bennet's behavior towards him was exactly the opposite of what it had always been before. She seemed, however to be in awe of him and, consequently, spoke to him only slightly more than before. Mr. Bennet took pains to become better acquainted with him and Darcy found that he liked his intended father-in law very much.

It was most relieving to have the engagement public. Darcy could now behave towards Elizabeth as he wished in public as well as in private. He found that a place by her side was always reserved for him and Bingley no longer had to manoeuver things for them to be alone together. Darcy was rather anxious to be alone with Elizabeth. He wished to hear about her interviews with her parents. He soon suggested a walk and Elizabeth eagerly agreed. As soon as they were away from the house, Darcy said,

"Elizabeth, I wanted to speak with you about this last evening but I did not get an opportunity. Last night you were so long with your father and then when you came back, I think you had been crying. What happened?"

"It was just like I told you it would be. He was afraid I'm marrying you for your money and position. I had a terrible time convincing him otherwise. I did cry and that is why I was gone so long." Unexpectedly she began to cry again. Darcy was at a loss as to what to do. His instincts told him to take her in his arms but propriety forbade it. He finally gave into his instincts and held her until the tears subsided. He then led her to a fallen tree, sat her down and handed her his handkerchief. Once she had composed herself he asked her gently,

"What is the matter, darling? Surely he believes you now. Why are you crying?"

"Oh, Fitzwilliam, I don't know. I'm sorry."

"Is it your mother?"

She laughed. "No, Mamma is delighted. I'm just being silly. You are right, everything is fine."

"Do you feel better now?"

She nodded and rose. "Perhaps we should continue our walk?"

They did so and soon Elizabeth said, "I hope you do not mind, but I told Papa what you did for Lydia."

"No, of course not."

"I think he is planning to offer to pay you back."

"I will not let him."

"I know," she said, then changed the subject.

That evening, after dinner. Mr. Bennet invited Darcy into the library. Darcy would have liked to stop Mr. Bennet before he could express his gratitude but he knew that Mr. Bennet would find it necessary.

"Mr. Darcy," Mr. Bennet began, "I understand I am much indebted to you for the preservation of my youngest daughter."

"No, sir."

Mr. Bennet looked surprised. "No? But Lizzy said you did everything: made up the match, gave the money, paid the fellow's debts, and got him his commission. Is she mistaken?"

"No, sir, she is not?"

"Well then, Mr. Darcy, I must repay you."

"I cannot allow you to do that, sir. You owe me nothing. I did it all for Elizabeth and only Elizabeth. I came upon her shortly after she learnt the news and I had to spare her that pain. Surely you can see why I cannot accept any payment from you. If you still feel yourself obliged, please remember what I owe you for granting me Elizabeth's hand. If you must think of it as such, and I would prefer that you do not, that is ample repayment for any service I have rendered. Now, I beg you to consider this matter as closed."

"Very well. I see I will never prevail with you. The matter is closed."

"One more thing, sir. I would appreciate it if these things never left this room. I never intended for even Elizabeth to know." Mr. Bennet gave him a questioning look and he added, "Your youngest daughter, it would seem, has loose tongue."

"Ah," said Mr. Bennet, "you may be assured, Mr. Darcy, that I do not."

Chapter 37

The next day, Darcy approached Longbourn with some trepidation unsure of what his reception would be now that his engagement was known. The change in his status was immediately obvious. Mrs Bennet's behavior towards him was exactly the opposite of what it had always been before. She seemed, however to be in awe of him and, consequently, spoke to him only slightly more than before. Mr Bennet took pains to become better acquainted with him and Darcy found that he liked his intended father-in-law very much.

It was most relieving to have the engagement public. Darcy could now behave towards Elizabeth as he wished in public as well as in private. He found that a place by her side was always reserved for him and Bingley no longer had to manoeuver things for them to be alone together. Darcy was rather anxious to be alone with Elizabeth. He wished to hear about her interviews with her parents. He soon suggested a walk and Elizabeth eagerly agreed. As soon as they were away from the house, Darcy said, "Elizabeth, I wanted to speak with you about this last evening but I did not get an opportunity. Last night you were so long with your father and then when you came back, I think you had been crying. What happened?"

"It was just like I told you it would be. He was afraid I'm marrying you for your money and position. I had a terrible time convincing him otherwise. I did cry and that is why I was gone so long." Unexpectedly she began to cry again.

Darcy was at a loss as to what to do. His instincts told him to take her in his arms but propriety forbade it. He finally gave into his instincts and held her until the tears subsided. He then led her to a fallen tree, sat her down and handed her his handkerchief. Once she had composed herself, he asked her gently, "What is the matter, darling? Surely he believes you now. Why are you crying?"

"Oh, Fitzwilliam, I don't know. I'm sorry."

"Is it your mother?"

She laughed. "No, Mamma is delighted. I'm just being silly. You are right, everything is fine."

"Do you feel better now?"

She nodded and rose. "Perhaps we should continue our walk?" They did so and soon Elizabeth said, I hope you do not mind, but I told Papa what you did for Lydia."

"No, of course not."

"I think he is planning to offer to pay you back."

"I will not let him."

"I know," she said, then changed the subject.

That evening, after dinner. Mr Bennet invited Darcy into the library. Darcy would have liked to stop Mr Bennet before he could express his gratitude but he knew that Mr Bennet would find it necessary.

"Mr Darcy," Mr Bennet began, "I understand I am much indebted to you for the preservation of my youngest daughter."

"No, sir."

Mr. Bennet looked surprised. "No? But Lizzy said you did everything: made up the match, gave the money, paid the fellow's debts, and got him his commission. Is she mistaken?"

"No, sir, she is not."

"Well then, Mr. Darcy, I must repay you."

"I cannot allow you to do that, sir. You owe me nothing. I did it all for Elizabeth and only Elizabeth. I came upon her shortly after she learnt the news and I had to spare her that pain. Surely you can see why I cannot accept any payment from you. If you still feel yourself obliged, please remember what I owe you for granting me Elizabeth's hand. If you must think of it as such, and I would prefer that you do not, that is ample repayment for any service I have rendered. Now, I beg you to consider this matter as closed."

"Very well. I see I will never prevail with you. The matter is closed." "One more thing, sir. I would appreciate it if these things never left this room. I never intended for even Elizabeth to know." Mr. Bennet gave him a questioning look and he added, "Your youngest daughter, it would seem, has a loose tongue."

"Ah," said Mr Bennet. "You may be assured, Mr Darcy, that I do not."

Chapter 38

The next day, Darcy and Elizabeth were alone together in the breakfast room. Elizabeth was in playful spirits and wanted Darcy to account for his having ever fallen in love with her. "How could you begin?" said she. "I can comprehend your going on charmingly, when you had once made a beginning; but what could set you off in the first place?"

Darcy thought back but could not come up with what she wanted. "I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun."

"My beauty you had early withstood, and as for my manners--my behaviour to you was at least always bordering on the uncivil, and I never spoke to you without rather wishing to give you pain than not. Now be sincere; did you admire me for my impertinence?"

"You may as well call it impertinence at once. It was very little less. The fact is, that you were sick of civility, of deference, of officious attention. You were disgusted with the women who were always speaking, and looking, and thinking for your approbation alone. I roused, and interested you, because I was so unlike them. Had you not been really amiable, you would have hated me for it; but in spite of the pains you took to disguise yourself, your feelings were always noble and just; and in your heart, you thoroughly despised the persons who so assiduously courted you. There I have saved you the trouble of accounting for it; and really, all things considered, I begin to think it perfectly reasonable. To be sure, you knew no actual good of me--but nobody thinks of that when they fall in love."

"Was there no good in your affectionate behaviour to Jane while she was ill at Netherfield?"

"Dearest Jane! who could have done less for her? But make a virtue of it by all means. My good qualities are under your protection, and you are to exaggerate them as much as possible; and, in return, it belongs to me to find occasions for teazing and quarrelling with you as often as may be; and I shall begin directly by asking you what made you so unwilling to come to the point at last. What made you so shy of me, when you first called, and afterwards dined here? Why, especially, when you called, did you look as if you did not care about me?"

"Because you were grave and silent, and gave me no encouragement."

"But I was embarrassed."

"And so was I."

"You might have talked to me more when you came to dinner."

"A man who had felt less, might."

"How unlucky that you should have a reasonable answer to give, and that I should be so reasonable as to admit it! But I wonder how long you would have gone on, if you had been left to yourself. I wonder when you would have spoken, if I had not asked you! My resolution of thanking you for your kindness to Lydia had certainly great effect. Too much, I am afraid; for what becomes of the moral, if our comfort springs from a breach of promise? for I ought not to have mentioned the subject. This will never do."

"You need not distress yourself. The moral will be perfectly fair. Lady Catherine's unjustifiable endeavours to separate us were the means of removing all my doubts. I am not indebted for my present happiness to your eager desire of expressing your gratitude. I was not in a humour to wait for any opening of your's. My aunt's intelligence had given me hope, and I was determined at once to know every thing."

"Lady Catherine has been of infinite use, which ought to make her happy, for she loves to be of use. But tell me, what did you come down to Netherfield for? Was it merely to ride to Longbourn and be embarrassed...or had you intended any more serious consequence?"

"My real purpose was to see you, and to judge, if I could, whether I might ever hope to make you love me. My avowed one, or what I avowed to myself, was to see whether your sister were still partial to Bingley, and if she were, to make the confession to him which I have since made."

"Shall you ever have courage to announce to Lady Catherine what is to befall her?"

"I am more likely to want more time than courage, Elizabeth. But it ought to done, and if you will give me a sheet of paper, it shall be done directly."

"And if I had not a letter to write myself, I might sit by you and admire the eveness of your writing, as another young lady once did. But I have an aunt, too, who must not be longer neglected."

"I shall probably be more distracted by your studiously writing your own letter than I was by the lady you refer to."

"Is that a hint for me to go into another room?"

"No. Certainly not. That would be even worse for I am sure it would not be long before I should have to follow you."

After some discussion on the matter, it was decided that she would sit next to him as they each wrote their letter. Elizabeth brought the requested paper and ink and they settled down to work. Darcy was indeed distracted by Elizabeth and he could tell she was having the same difficulty. Eventually, however, he wrote,

Dear Lady Catherine,

I must thank you, my dear aunt, for your kind information last week. As I informed you I intended, I acted immediately and not two days passed before everything was settled. It is now my pleasant duty to inform you that Miss Elizabeth Bennet has accepted my proposals and consented to be my wife. Both Elizabeth and myself are extremely grateful for your interference. Without it we may never have come to this happy conclusion. We would be most honoured by your presence at our wedding next month. Please convey our respects to my cousin Anne.

Fitzwilliam Darcy

Darcy knew Lady Catherine would not take his engagement well but hoped this letter would give her an opportunity to act graciously and even claim credit for the match. He doubted it though.

When he had finished, Darcy realized he had not yet written to Georgiana or Colonel Fitzwilliam. Elizabeth was still writing her letter to Mrs. Gardiner and he whispered to her that he had a few more letters to write.

At first, she frowned at him which he did not like at all but when she had been informed to whom he wished to write she smiled and said, "Fitzwilliam, courtship seems to have made us forgetful. We should be quite ashamed. We have been engaged for three days and are only just now informing our dearest friends."

"You are right, my dear, but I am certain they shall forgive us the distraction. Will you mind if I write these now?"

"No, though I would rather they had already been written since I have no more letters to write myself," she pouted.

"There is one consolation, Elizabeth." She looked at him questioningly. "You will now be able to admire my writing."

"I had not thought of that," she said with a mischievous smile. She then returned to her letter and Darcy wrote to Georgiana.

My darling sister,

Please accept my apologies for not writing sooner. The only excuse I can offer is that I have been distracted. I hope you will pardon me when you know why.

Georgie, I have the most wonderful news. You shall at last have the sister you have always wanted. Three days ago, I again asked Miss Elizabeth Bennet to marry me. I am redeemed, Georgie, for this time she accepted and made me the happiest of men. What a contrast to what I was just a few weeks ago.

We shall be married next month on the same day as Mr. Bingley and Elizabeth's sister, Miss Jane. Elizabeth assures me she is most anxious to renew her acquaintance with you. We would both like for you to come to Hertfordshire right away. Bingley has already prepared a room for you at Netherfield. I hope you understand, Georgie, but I cannot abide the thought of leaving Elizabeth even for a few days. Therefore, I am going to ask Colonel Fitzwilliam to fetch you here. We all look forward to seeing you soon.

Your loving brother,
Fitzwilliam Darcy

This letter took much longer than the last. An unemployed Elizabeth was much more distracting than a busy one. When she had finished her letter, she had moved her chair as close to him as propriety would allow. At first she had watched him write but, since she was not Miss Bingley, that soon bored her. She then amused herself chiefly by tormenting him. Darcy then gave Elizabeth his letter to his sister to read while he wrote to the Colonel.

My dear cousin,

I must thank you for urging me to go to Pemberley. You were right, the change did me good. More good than you can possibly imagine for I found Miss Bennet there.

The details of what happened at Pemberley and after are too numerous to be recounted in a letter so you shall have to wait till I see you for those. You must let it suffice for me to say that I am completely forgiven and three days ago, Elizabeth agreed to be my wife. As you can probably imagine, my spirits are now quite the opposite of what they were when last you saw me. Elizabeth is sitting here next to me as I write and wishes to be remembered to you.

Now, Fitzwilliam, I have a favour to ask of you. We want Georgiana here until the wedding next month and would be most appreciative if you would fetch her here from Pemberley. I would go myself but I cannot bear to leave Elizabeth. I look forward to seeing you soon.

Fitzwilliam Darcy

Once this was finished, Darcy was able to turn his attention to Elizabeth, a development which pleased them both.

"Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth said that evening as Darcy was preparing to take his leave of her, "I have something of yours that I should return."

Darcy knew not what it could be and was intrigued by the reluctance in her voice as she mentioned it. "What is that, my dear?" She extracted from her sleeve the handkerchief he had given her the day before but did not give it to him. "If you do not mind, I would like to keep it."

Darcy was thrilled that Elizabeth wished a keepsake but kept his voice even as he replied, "I would not mind but if I let you keep it I will be quite without a handkerchief."

The sparkle in Elizabeth's eyes told Darcy that she had caught his meaning. "I believe I have a solution," she said. "Wait here. I shall be right back." She ran quickly upstairs and returned after just a minute. "Fitzwilliam," she said smiling, "I do not really believe that you would notice the absence of this handkerchief if you give it to me but to lessen the loss you may have this." She handed him one of her own delicate lacy handkerchiefs.

It was exactly what he had wanted. He took it and examined it carefully then tucking it in the inside pocket of his coat replied, "I believe I prefer this one anyway. I will be happy for you to keep mine." Elizabeth smiled beautifully as she returned the handkerchief to her sleeve.

It was not long before Darcy received replies to his letters. Four sides of paper were insufficient to contain all Georgiana's delight. Colonel Fitzwilliam's congratulations were less effusive but just as sincere and he promised to bring Georgiana as soon as possible.

The reply from Lady Catherine was not so satisfactory. Her letter was full of very abusive language mostly towards Elizabeth. Darcy was left in a very dark mood that even Elizabeth was barely able to pull him out of. When he had calmed down somewhat, he sent off a reply ending all intercourse until Lady Catherine could accept Elizabeth.

Georgiana and Fitzwilliam soon arrived and Darcy had the great pleasure of watching the two women he loved most become as close as real sisters. It was not long, however before Darcy's time with either of them was seriously curtailed for the ladies were soon occupied with wedding plans. Both Darcy and Bingley were glad of Fitzwilliam's presence for he helped to keep them occupied while the ladies were busy.

Darcy often found himself busy as well, writing and sending numerous letters to Mrs Reynolds and his steward with instructions on preparing Pemberley for Elizabeth's arrival. It would have been easier to travel there himself but that would have required him to leave Elizabeth for at least a week, an idea he could not bear. Time moved quickly, however, and almost before he knew it, Darcy's wedding day arrived.

Chapter 39

The ceremony was beautiful. The two grooms stood tall and handsome at the front of the church. Both were nervous and grateful for each other's support and that of the single groomsman that they shared. Soon the music started and the brides' maids came sedately down the aisle. Then the brides, beautiful and glowing came on their father's arms.

Fitzwilliam Darcy had never seen anything more lovely than his Elizabeth dressed in white coming to marry him. After what seemed like the longest trip down the aisle, Mr Bennet placed a tender kiss upon each of his daughters' foreheads and handed them over to their soon to be husbands. Darcy placed Elizabeth's hand in the crook of his elbow then covered it securely with his own. They looked deep into each others eyes and smiled. The parson then stepped forward and they reluctantly turned their attention to him.

The sermon was long but through the whole Darcy was acutely aware of the woman by his side and heard not one word of it. Finally, the parson came to the actual ceremonies and they repeated their vows. They were pronounced man and wife and Darcy was given permission to kiss Elizabeth. He touched his lips gently to hers as they shared this intimacy for the first time. Elizabeth then took Darcy's arm once again and he escourted her out of the church.

Once they were outside, Darcy pulled Elizabeth around the side of the church into a small alcove.

Fitzwilliam, what are you doing?" asked Elizabeth in surprise.

"I was hoping, my dear Mrs Darcy," he paused as Elizabeth blushed and smiled at his use of her new name, "to have a moment alone with my wife before we have to begin accepting congratulations. That is if you have no objections.

Elizabeth shook her and met his eyes shyly as she replied, "I would be most pleased to spend a few moments with my husband."

"I was wondering," Darcy asked in a nervous whisper, "if I might . . . if you would allow me to . . . kiss you again?" Elizabeth nodded and he softly touched her cheek then leaned in and kissed her. He then pulled her into his arms and held her close as she rested her head on his chest.

Darcy could have stayed there forever but after only a few moments, Elizabeth whispered, "We had better go back, Fitzwilliam, before Mamma comes looking for us."

Darcy reluctantly agreed. He bestowed one more kiss upon Elizabeth then offering her his arm, he led her back around to the front of the church to face the world together.

The End

---