Nothing Cannot Be Forgotten - Chapter Ten

Posted By: Dervla (formerly Kelly E)
Date: Saturday, 11 February 2006, at 2:06 p.m.

Author's Note (DNA): Thank you all for your reviews, they make me so happy! Anyway sorry for the delay in this posting - I wasn't really in the mood for writing this piece for a long time but hopefully I've regained my interest in it. And on a side note, what a lot has happened in British politics since I last posted! First Mark Oaten and then Simon Hughes - I'm still a little miffed that the Lib Dems dumped Charles Kennedy, I always thought that he was the best leader (when it was Blair/Howard/Kennedy). But I suppose David Cameron has come along so maybe things aren't so bad...(despite what John Prescott says) Oh and is now the time to cringe at George Galloway and his 'do you want me to be the cat?' moment in Celebrity Big Brother? Honestly, I can't believe he entered BB house - totally neglecting his duties as an MP.

Okay, rant over. Sorry to those readers who don't know what I'm talking about - I'm trying to get my best friend interested in politics but it's not working too well. Anyway, let the story begin (or continue, I suppose), but I'm not really satisfied with it, oh well... RA

Chapter Ten

“How do you know Wickham?” Will was getting annoyed now and he didn't care if Lizzy saw it. She had to know about Wickham, why else would she react that way? His initial desire to learn what was affecting her had soon been overcome by the rage and anxiety which had become inextricably linked to his former friend's name. The blinding anger which he now felt was clouding - no, fogging - his judgement, his ability to see sense. In fact all logic had flown out the window when he realized that there was something more to Lizzy's reaction than met the eye.

“W-what? I don't know him, why would I?”

“Lizzy, tell me.” He wouldn't raise his voice, not to her, but the underlying feeling was clear - he would not tolerate any lies. She was silent for a while but when she looked up at him and saw the pain and the concern in his eyes she began speaking again.

“Promise you won't get angry?” For a very slight moment some of the rage within him started to diminish at the sight of such a defeated woman in front of him. He knew that if this matter had concerned anyone but Wickham he would not have pressed her for any more information than she was willing to give.

“I can't promise that.”

“Sit down.” He would not. To sit down would be to declare himself a weak man, a man who could not handle the truth, and if there was one thing Will prided himself on - in both his public and political life - it was that he could take any criticism, no matter how personal. However he understood that with this woman, and with that man being the topic of conversation, his principals would be as loose as the morals of a street-walker. Lizzy noticed that he wasn't going to sit down and a slight feeling of indignation crept up inside her. But it strengthened her and so she encouraged it, sensing that this talk could quite quickly turn into a war. “Alright then, don't,” she muttered under her breath. Will heard it but pretended that he did not.

“Go on.”

“I met George Wickham just after you deserted me at Charlotte's, and at that time I was convinced that he was the nicest, most charming man that I had ever met. Of course I didn't put you in the equation - I was far too angry at you for leaving me, even though I knew that you had to go. I mean who else would take care of things if the Prime Minister didn't?” It was supposed to be a rhetorical question but Will was not in the mood for such foolish devices so he went with the honest truth.

“Willoughby.” She looked up at him in confusion before quickly mustering up her courage to speak again. It wasn't going too badly, she thought to herself, but then the explosive stuff was still to come.

“We got talking and I found that we had the same sort of interests - music, TV, politics... I liked him, I believed him to be a nice man. Then I saw the news and what they said about you nearly killed me. I remembered how we first met, and when they showed that girl Marianne I wondered if I was just another in a long line of victims. It's rather pathetic isn't it? It wasn't a case of thinking that you would physically hurt me, or force me to do things that I didn't want to do - I wouldn't let you do that and I think you know that - but the fear of being emotionally abused by you, emotionally crippled, was what drove me into action. When I left the café I was convinced that somehow they'd got the story wrong but secretly, unconsciously, wishing that it was true. I was such a coward. I still am. Maybe I thought that if you were the one in the wrong then it would be me breaking up with you and not the other way round. You see, all my past boyfriends - or potential ones - have always cast me aside for one reason or another and I was determined that this time I would be the one doing the rejecting. I guess I didn't know why a man like you was interested in me.” Before he had time to fully digest the statement, she began to speak again, “I'm still a feminist though, deeply devoted one - even got the hairy legs to prove it.” She tried to smile but the pathetic attempt failed to lighten the mood. When she didn't return to the topic of Wickham, Will's face became even more distorted with annoyance.

“Don't look at me like that Will,” said Lizzy. It was quiet but the defiance was clear.

“Tell me the rest.”

“How do you know that that wasn't everything that happened, that we just parted ways and hoped to meet again?” She was antagonizing him, and for a moment she cursed herself that she loved to play the devil's advocate. However, he really was getting her riled up and it would only be his fault if things got out of control.

“A woman doesn't react the way you did when you heard his name with someone she only talked to!” Will still refused to shout, but this time it was only out of consideration for the Bennets and Charles that he didn't yell.

Lizzy had no such compunction. “Were you having me followed, huh Will? Were you?” She came closer to him until she could smell his cologne. “A man like you needs to be in control. I've seen your type before and let me tell you I absolutely detest them! Men are all the same - all looking for one thing, and I was stupid enough to give it to you.”

“Oh, so all men are the same, is that it? What about Wickham, eh?”

“George is an exception to the rule,” she noticed how the use of Wickham's first name hurt Will, and she felt a perverse sense of delight. He had hurt her, Wickham had hurt her, and she wasn't going to be wounded again.

“Oh, it's George now!”

“Of course it is. Do you want to know what we did when I came back from seeing you? About how good he made me feel? How much his kisses affected me?” Only the years of keeping his emotions in check prevented Will from storming out at that point, he needed to hear the rest. “We went back to my place, and we couldn't keep our hands off each other. Then I led him up to my bedroom and he-”

“Stop it! Just stop it! You're just like every other woman I've ever met - you only want glory, money, power.” He spat out the words as though they were burning oil on his tongue.

“Well at least I'm not some pervert who likes to abuse his power - how was that Marianne girl? Did it feel good to intimidate her, force her, did it turn you on knowing that you had control over her?”

“Shut up!”

Both of them stared at the other - both thinking that there was no other person they hated more in this world than the person standing opposite. Will shook his head, and with a sudden movement he reached to snatch his coat from the chair beside Lizzy. She didn't even flinch at the force with which he took it.

He made no attempt to bid her goodbye, and she didn't say anything to him either. He stormed out of the kitchen, his composure and - he presumed - all his dignity had vanished when Lizzy had started her tirade. He didn't care what the Bennet family thought, didn't care about how angry Charles would be at his behaviour, all he wanted was to be out of the wretched house and at his own home. If only he could see Georgiana now! As he entered the dining room he found it to be suspiciously silent, and when he heard something rattle in the kitchen, he understood why. They had all heard him and Lizzy arguing. What a fine role model he was! Most of the Bennets were looking at him with a mixture of shock and outrage on their faces - even Kitty, who had admired him before, seemed horrified at his behaviour. But of course they would side with Lizzy, she was a member of their family after all. And it had been her fault, hadn't it? She had been the one to argue, she'd started it. Then a thought struck him. Lizzy had told him all he needed to know, he'd come to the conclusion, which to his mind was perfectly correct, that she had slept with Wickham. But if she'd really liked it as much as she said she had, then why had she been crying when he first started talking to her? The notion that she had been lying to him about what had happened with Wickham disturbed Will - what if something worse had taken place? What if Wickham had hurt her? The pain that such thoughts roused was more than Will could combat, but he would not apologize. It was beneath his dignity and, he sensed, it would damage his pride. After all, it was she who had started it and the matter would only be resolved by Lizzy coming to her senses and telling the truth.

Then again, maybe she had been sobbing crocodile tears. Or what was worse - what if she had been mourning, not the end of their relationship, but the end of a variety of political opportunities. He could just see her on Question Time* now, explaining to an attentive audience how bad a person he was, how rubbish he was in all areas of his life and not only in politics. The sparkling eyes would be even brighter with that comment, and George Wickham would be waiting in the wings - rejoicing in Will's downfall.

He knew that that last thought was uncharitable, but all he could see was Lizzy in bed with Wickham and a weeping Georgiana lying distraught in her bedroom at Pemberley. And he being unable to make things better.

---

Will had walked - or rather ran - out of the house and Charles had dutifully, and angrily, followed him. Jane was in a situation which was generally unheard of - she knew that Will had hurt Lizzy in some way and as such he deserved to be castrated, but she was also well aware that, because Will was generally a quiet and controlled man, her sister probably had had a hand in the slanging match that they had all overheard. She saw that her father was itching to go after Will, but a restraining gesture from herself had calmed him slightly. On the other hand Mrs Bennet seemed to be about to take another fit of nerves at the idea that Lizzy had chucked out one of the most eligible bachelors in the country. Oh the money lost! Well, the matriarch supposed, Lizzy always was the ungrateful child. Undoubtedly Lydia was much more deserving.

Jane quickly made her way to the kitchen, relatively unnoticed by the rest of her family. She cautiously opened the door - Lizzy could still be in a temper, and that was not something Jane particularly desired to encounter. To say that she was surprised with what she found would have been a gross understatement to Jane's feelings, astonished might have been closer. Lizzy, the brave Bennet sister who had gotten her ears pierced at the tender age of eight by her older cousin (the infection had eventually cleared up, but Mrs Bennet was still angry with her niece for leaving minuscule scars on her daughter's ears), was now lying against the back door and letting silent tears run down her face. Jane ran over to her sister and put her arms around her, but Lizzy was still unresponsive, even Jane's gentle urgings could not get her sister to wake from the trance she was in.

Eventually Jane realized that coaxing would not work, neither would ordering. The only way in which Lizzy would wake from her stupor was by her own will power. Until that happened Jane was content to merely hug her sister and let her know that there was someone there for her.

Half an hour later the unbearable pressure of contained sorrow forced Lizzy to cry out and once she started it was near impossible to stop. Jane tightened the embrace and the sobbing intensified. All that the elder sister could discern was the words, “Jane, Janie I've been so stupid, so stupid.”

---

Charles was not overly concerned for his friend, at the moment his soul preferred anger to anything remotely sympathetic. Could the man not be reasonable for once? Could he not be amicable? Charles realized that Mrs Bennet was indeed a tad overbearing and certainly she was enthusiastic, but surely that was just country manners for you! Will was standing against the car and gazing into the night sky - although Charles guessed that the fine array of stars was going unnoticed by the Prime Minister.

“I can't believe you did that.”

Will didn't respond.

“What happened in there?” Charles' new tactic of gentle questioning had as much success as the previous one. “You're going to have to tell me sometime.” Still there was silence. “If you don't snap out of-”

“Don't Charles.”

“Don't what?”

“Don't try and make me feel guilty. Believe me you don't need to.”

Charles, a little softened by his friend's admission, strode over and stood beside him. “I don't want to know what that was about, it's between you and Lizzy, but couldn't you have kept your annoyance hidden until we got back to Netherfield?” Will, sensing that the real reason for his friend's concern was that he might be tarred with the same brush, told Charles that he was convinced Jane would realize that he was blameless on this matter and that his own anger had in no way diminished his chances with Lizzy's sister.

“That's not the point.”

“Isn't it? You're afraid that Jane will think that we're the same and then break up with you.”

“No I'm not!” Charles' denial sounded a little weak even to his own ears. “Alright, maybe a little. But what I'm most concerned about is what you've done to Lizzy. All personal matters aside, she's a dangerous political enemy to have.”

“It'll make good headlines then.”

“Darce, don't say that. I'm so frustrated with you right now! I don't have to be Knightley to realize that if this little story with Lizzy gets out, you'll lose a lot of our female voters - even more so than we already have.” Will remembered the accusations facing him and groaned silently. It really seemed as though his life could not get any worse - he was branded as a misogynist and now he had even lost Lizzy's confidence and, if she had ever held any for him, her affection.

“What am I going to do?” The despairing question shocked Charles. Will had never really been one to ask his advice on matters and he was grateful for that, but for Will to now seek his counsel rocked Charles to the core. It appeared that Will had lost all trust in himself, in his decisions, and as Will had always been the strong one, the constant - almost stubborn - one, Charles gained an insight into how much this man felt for Lizzy.

“What are you going to do? You, my friend, are going to apologize.”

To be continued...

Chapter Eleven

Parliament was back in session and Lizzy couldn't be happier. Although she was slightly worried that she could run into Will quite easily, she also knew that there was no way he would lower himself to argue publicly with a mere opposition back bencher. After what had happened the last time the two had met, Lizzy had taken herself away to Ireland and no one except Jane had known where she was. It had been blissful, the weather unusually warm and she had made some good friends who she had promised to keep in contact with. It was a delightful change not seeing the Prime Minister's face everywhere she went and her sojourn had assured her that if things went very badly in England she could at least flee to Ireland.

“Lizzy I need to talk to you!”

“Sure Ed.”

Edmund Bertram, the leader of the Labour Party, had been a close friend of Elizabeth's for many years and when she had first entered Parliament (only a few months ago) he had been the first to make her feel really welcome. She ventured into his office which was a very neat, orderly place. Evidently Frances had been at it.

“What's the matter?”

“Well Lizzy, I wanted to congratulate you on a job well done.”

“Pardon?”

“You've managed to survive the first few months of this hell hole.”

“Be careful, someone might think that you don't like politics.”

“Sometimes I think that I don't.” Ed sat down on his chair and let out a mammoth sigh. “Maybe I'll turn to religion, something that doesn't involve back-stabbing and name-calling on a daily basis. I think Fran would prefer it as well.”

“She misses you, it's natural. But I'm sure she understands.”

“Of course she understands, she's Frances Price - that's what she does! But know that she would prefer that I wasn't in Westminster for most of the week. Maybe then we could get married after a five year engagement, and have kids and everything that goes along with it.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Never mind, it's not your fault. In fact you are the beacon in my very dark political life.”

“What?”

“Lizzy, you're about to take up your seat on the Foreign Affairs select committee - that could be a huge step for you.” He motioned for her to have a seat and she did what he instructed. What was he on about? “I would like you in my shadow cabinet, you're a good politician, a good friend - I can trust you. But you have to get some experience, make yourself known a bit more to the general public, then you'll find a space on the front bench.”

“I'm honoured, really I am, but isn't the function of the select committees to scrutinize the government without party politics coming into play?”

“What are you trying to say?”

“To an outsider the mention of my seat on the Foreign Affairs select committee and then a potential position in the shadow cabinet...well it could sound like you were bribing me.” She hoped that that wasn't true. For so long she had put Ed on a moral pedestal - he had been everything that was good and noble and honourable about politics - but if he was suggesting what it appeared he was suggesting, then she would have no other choice than to sever all links with him.

“I'm not.” Lizzy breathed a sigh of relief. “Did you really think I would do that?” She couldn't respond. In the few brief months that she had been at Westminster she had become a jaded person, a somewhat cynical person. The woman who had entered politics with the view that anything was possible was now unrecognisable. Apparently things were only possible if you knew the right people, if you were powerful enough, rich enough.

Such as Will and what he had - or had not - done with Marianne Dashwood. The truth had never come out and no one had really suffered politically. Will had seen his popularity fall momentarily in the opinion polls and John Willoughby was for the briefest of instants the most popular man in the Conservative Party, but soon things had reverted to the natural order. Will was the darling boy of the Tories and Willoughby the edgy rival. She had been convinced that what had happened would have changed things - either Willoughby or Will would have been removed from their offices - but nothing had happened. However now she was back in the Commons, she sensed something was different - not in the cabinet or the party, but in the hearts and minds of the Conservative MPs and of the staff who worked for them.

“Lizzy? Are you listening to me?” She was woken from her daze by Ed who had managed to find enough energy to walk over beside her.

“Yeah, no, sorry what were you saying?”

“I was just wishing you luck. This is an important thing, make the most of it.”

“I will.”

---

Her first meeting with the rest of the Foreign Affairs select committee was that afternoon. Unfortunately it also coincided with the Minister for Education coming in and answering questions about her policies, so there were a lot of journalists there. After all, everyone was eager to see if she would be harassed by the committee.

“Elizabeth Bennet? Am I correct?” It was clear that the man in front of her knew exactly who she was but, for reasons unknown to Lizzy, refused to admit it.

“Yes. And you are?” He obviously didn't expect the question to be turned round on him. Immediately his whole body tensed and his face became even more stony.

“I am William Collins, the chairman of this committee. I'm extremely surprised that you don't know who I am because I have been favoured with the friendship and condescension of Lady Catherine de Bourgh - the aunt of the Prime Minister William Darcy.”

“I do know who the Prime Minister is, thank you.” I know him far more intimately than you would ever believe. It was that thought which allowed her to get through the next five minutes in which Collins flattered Lady Catherine, criticized Ed and patronized Lizzy. She could just imagine the look on his face if he ever found out what had occurred between Will and herself, of course she temporarily forgot - or ignored - the fact that their relationship was rather rocky at the moment.

Eventually Collins stopped talking and Lizzy managed to extract herself from his tedious company. She wasn't sure if the man name-dropped because he was uneasy about how he was viewed or because he was just an arrogant buffoon. As she watched him approach another committee member - who tried valiantly to get away - she assumed that he was just obnoxious.

“Lizzy Bennet? It's a pleasure to meet you.” She turned around to see whose was the friendly voice. “Oh sorry, I'm -”

“Anne Elliot. Education Minister.” Lizzy was slightly taken aback at meeting one of the few prominent female politicians.

“I know you're new here, I hope Collins didn't put you off.”

“Not really, I suppose there are lots of arrogant, pompous, snivelling twits in all areas of British society.” She saw Anne trying to repress a smile and warmed to the woman. Then she remembered the words of Lucy Steele when news of Will allegedly abusing his power had come to light.

”I know for a fact that Anne Elliot is very close to him - more than just a platonic closeness.”

Lizzy wondered whether that was true or not. Regardless of the claims against Will's character, she could imagine Anne and he having a very close relationship - surely the other woman was the ideal woman for Will; intelligent, loyal, quiet-tempered.

“Ignore Collins. I don't like him and I know Will doesn't either.” Will, she called him Will - not William. She also knew that maybe she was over-reacting but couldn't stop herself from being completely and irrationally paranoid.

“How did Collins become the chairman?”

“I don't know. Maybe because of Lady de Bourgh's influence, maybe because of Will. He's not that good of a scrutinizer, all he seems to care about is his future with her, that's good for me but it's not good for what I represent - for democracy. I mean, who wants someone who is basically just a sycophant?”

“No one does! How long until the next general election?”

Anne laughed. “No use trying to get him out that way, Lady de Bourgh will always find him some sort of job.”

“Damn.”

Someone came over to them to tell them that they were ready to start the meeting and so they separated. As Lizzy sat in her seat she was relieved to discover that she was as far away from Collins as possible. Apparently her predecessor had common sense.

---

It was a long meeting but, to Lizzy at least, a very interesting one. Foreign Affairs had always seemed like something exciting and dynamic, and to witness first hand how things were done at Westminster was enthralling. Anne's interview had been unexpectedly short - Collins would not let anyone even remotely related to Lady Catherine de Bourgh be questioned for too long and when Lizzy tried to question Anne herself, Collins more or less said that as a female Labour politician she shouldn't be interfering. That annoyed her as she believed, or rather hoped, that sexism in politics had more or less ceased, and when other female members of the committee asked questions they were given the same response by the chairman. She thought that it was strange that a man who thought so highly of Lady de Bourgh would put down other females with some modicum of power.

Anne did not leave the meeting when her session was over, instead she sat in the public gallery which didn't appear to shock many people apart from the odd tourist. In fact it was as if the journalists were used to her - a few even started up conversations with her.

The next witness to come in was one Captain Frederick Wentworth who was to be asked about how the government's policies had affected the Navy and their actions, more specifically how one of the sailors had managed to nearly start an international incident by way of insults. Later he had been found washed up on a shore, and it was still unclear whether or not he had jumped or been pushed, and if the later - who exactly had pushed him.

“The name of the unfortunate..victim...was Musgrove, was it not?”

“Yes. Richard Musgrove.”

“And what sort of a man was he?”

Lizzy watched Frederick Wentworth as thought about it. He seemed confident and assured within himself and, in her opinion, was trying to find words to describe Musgrove that would not cause repercussions with the family. “Musgrove was a very naďve man, he made some foolish choices and was useless on a ship. It didn't surprise me when I heard what he'd done.”

“Do you mean when he committed suicide or when he started the fight?”

“The latter. He wasn't the sort of man who could kill himself, he didn't have the balls.” There was some laughter from the journalists and Lizzy looked at them. She inadvertently caught sight of Anne who was looking far less comfortable than when she had been in the chair.

“So are you blaming the government for his death?”

“I'm not blaming anyone Mr Collins, I just stated a fact.”

“Indeed?” Collins paused and glanced down at his notes. “I says here that you were born to a working class family in the North.”

“I was.”

“And as such you would naturally have Labour leanings.”

“I don't see what my political beliefs have to do with my evidence.” Frederick was starting to get annoyed with Collins as well and at that moment Lizzy would have done anything just to give the chairman a slap.

“Well surely you would want the Conservatives out of power so that your lot could get in!” He sent a nasty look Lizzy's way and she had to bite her tongue and not respond to his taunting. One of the other members was about to stop Collins - he had started to talk - but someone else spoke first.

“I hardly think that this line of questioning is relevant to Captain Wentworth's evidence.” It was Anne. She had risen and was staring at Collins in disbelief of what he had said. Frederick turned round just a little to see who had spoken up for him and for a brief moment he had seemed shocked. Then his face had reverted to its previous inscrutability.

“Of course Ms Elliot. If you think it best.” Collins was back to his simpering, moronic self.

Lizzy's nails cut into her palm.

That man!

---

The meeting was over and Lizzy was trying to avoid Collins. Earlier on this membership of the committee had seemed to be a dream, but now it was quickly turning sour. If only she could find a way to remove Collins...

“Anne, are you ready to go now?” There was a cavalcade of flashes at these words. If Lizzy had not recognized the voice then she would have wondered why there was such a fuss.

“Sure Will.”

Maybe if Lizzy didn't look at him then he would go away without noticing her.

Wishful thinking that.

“Will, do you know Lizzy Bennet? She's one of the rising stars in the Labour party, or so I hear, and she managed not to strangle Collins today.” Anne had moved towards Lizzy and Will had unwittingly come as well.

“Quite an achievement.” He sounded shocked. Why does he sound shocked? Why?

“Lizzy I'm sure you know Will.”

“Yes.”

“It's nice to see you again Lizzy.” Keep breathing, don't mention anything about that dinner. Calm down, you can't have an argument in front of the press.

“You too.”

She believed that Anne realized that something had happened between the two and she was grateful to her that she didn't ask any more questions. She changed the topic but unfortunately it was not one which Elizabeth really wanted to hear about.

“How'd your meeting with the demon go?”

“It was unbearable, as always.”

“Who is 'the demon'?” Will stared at her as she asked him and she couldn't make out what he felt at seeing her again.

“Do you really want to know Lizzy?”

“Of course Will.”

Anne had wandered off slightly and was now talking to one of her aides. Fortunately the press had mostly moved on and Lizzy would not have to worry about appearing in the newspapers the next day with a heavy blush on her face.

“It's Wickham.”

“Oh.”

To be continued...

Chapter Twelve

Lizzy was wondering why she had even brought the subject up, but now that George Wickham's name was involved she knew that, whether she liked it or not, she and Will would have to tell each other the truth. If that hurt the other, if that made the other angry, then so be it – but there were things about their relationship that needed to be said.

“Will, we need to talk.”

“I couldn't agree more,” he appeared cool and calm and collected, and consequently everything a Prime Minister ought to be, but inside his heart was hammering and a nervousness propelled itself throughout his body. For weeks, months, he had tried to find her so that he could apologise for his behaviour but she had seemingly disappeared. Jane would not reveal her location even to Charles but whereas his friend had been resigned to be patient, Will wasn't able to help going out of his mind. What if something had happened to her? What if she had gone forever and he would never see her again? Only the rational part of his brain reminded him that, although she might be head-strong and obstinate at times, she would not abandon her duties nor her constituency for an overly long period of time. So with that knowledge, and Knightley's arguments, he had left Netherfield and returned to London, from where he had begun to plan a cunning scheme which would hopefully outwit and outmanoeuvre Willoughby.

Lizzy looked round and saw that Anne had gone but the journalists were still there and, as she did not particularly want a public slanging match, she asked Will if they could talk in private. He got her meaning immediately and told her that he would meet her at her office as soon as he was able.

They parted and Lizzy trudged up to her office. It was a very small room, with almost no natural light but she had the good fortune to have it to herself. She reasoned that it was so minuscule that there was no chance of fitting in two desks and so the powers that be had left her at peace for once. When she had first arrived the office had been a very drab room, dark colours shrinking space, with very few features of merit. However now the blue walls and light colours alleviated some of the oppressiveness. She dumped her bag on the desk and went to pour herself some coffee – her third of the day – before relaxing in her chair. Lizzy was far too busy pondering how she had seemed at the meeting with Will and looking back on how he had reacted to her that she completely missed the knock on the door. It was only when the light came in that she noticed that there was someone else in that room. The someone else was, of course, Will.

“Hi. Coffee?” It was a trivial remark but it appeared to alleviate some of the tension and so she got up to pour the coffee. To her utter dismay the only cup she had left was a bright pink one with several very cute cartoon animals on it – not exactly the personification of a serious politician. Trying to ignore the design of the cup, she handed it to Will who promptly raised an eyebrow (something which she saw was extremely adorable) but didn't comment any further.

“You like blue do you?”

“Pardon?”

“The walls.”

“Oh yeah, it's a good colour.”

“I'm surprised you didn't paint them red.” She almost smiled at is words but refrained and carried on with the utmost sincerity.

“The red clashed with the cup.”

“Touché.”

They sat in silence for the next while until Will decided to tell her what he had wanted to earlier. Lizzy nearly choked on her coffee when she heard his voice and, although she managed not to do that, she did succeed in scalding her throat.

“Are you alright?” He asked after hearing her yelp of pain. She nodded and told him to continue which he did after a certain amount of hesitation.

“I was about to tell you about Wickham. The truth about him, please believe me about that. No matter what may or may not have happened between you, all I need is for you to hear me out.” She nodded again and he continued after taking a deep breath. “Wickham and I were really good friends when we were younger – his father was one of the managers that my father employed. So we were always together through childhood and through adolescence, you know there were times when I truly believed that he was my best friend.” He stopped and took a sip of his coffee. Lizzy was curious and she desperately wanted to know what he was going to tell her, but she did not rush him. If there was one thing she had learned about him it was that he was someone who liked to do things in his own time and by his own choice. “We went to university – Cambridge – and I worked hard, determined to prove to my father that I could do better than being the head of a company that I had inherited. I suppose I wanted to show him that I was independent. Wickham, on the other hand, had no such notions. He preferred to use his appearance to his advantage and, consequently, he managed to get scores of women to work on his behalf. You know Lizzy, I've often thought that maybe he should be in politics and not me.”

“What would you do if you weren't Prime Minister?” She joked.

“Live a quiet life.”

“You'd be bored, I think you're a man who likes to be doing something. I can't see you being content with hanging around gentlemen's clubs, smoking cigars and drinking whiskey.”

“I'll have you know Miss Bennet, that there is nothing wrong with frequenting such establishments. For one thing, there are no journalists – no tabloid ones anyway.” Lizzy realized that there was so much to this man that she didn't know. She'd judged him based on previous experience with upper class toffs and, although he had proved some of her ideas to be incorrect, the notion still persisted that he was only interested in power and money and everything that went along with it. With a start she understood that she wanted to know more about him. But there was still the question of whether or not he would forgive her, and whether or not she would let him. “Do you want me to continue?”

“Of course.”

“Wickham and I grew apart at Cambridge, he had his set of friends and I had mine. In fact we rarely saw each other unless he wanted something – money, in case you did not figure that out. My father, however, still loved him as a son and still persisted to think that he was a person to be trusted. I knew otherwise but I would not tell him.”

“Why not?”

“Do not think that it was out of some remnant of friendship for Wickham. On the contrary, anything of that sort had disappeared by the end of my first year at university. But my father was ill, he was dying, and I couldn't bear to upset him and spoil the little bit of life he had left.”

“That's understandable, Will.”

“But if he had known then perhaps he would have done something so that the events that followed might not have happened.” He was silent and Lizzy thought that she could discern tears in his eyes. Slowly and cautiously she placed her hand on top of his, just to remind him that she was there.

“There's no point beating yourself up about something that you can't change.”

“Always the optimist, Lizzy.”

“Not always.” For the briefest of moments his grip tightened on her hand but then he let it go. She felt oddly alone and longed, insanely, for the feel of his skin on hers again.

“So my father died, and I was left in control of all that he possessed. I don't mean to boast, but that's a lot, and it was hard for me. I was just embarking on a career in politics and all of a sudden I had the added responsibility of a worldwide business and a teenage sister. The former was much easier to handle than the latter.”

“Is she like Lydia?”

“No! Heaven forbid.” He looked at her sheepishly, “Sorry.”

“Don't apologise. I'm well aware of my youngest sister's faults, believe me I have tried to make her aware of them too. Nothing seems to help though.” He snickered, but not unkindly.

“No, Georgiana – that's her name – is the perfect angel of a sister. And I'm well aware that I'm coming dangerously close to an imitation of Charles. Georgie's always been good, there's never been any trouble out of her.” He seemed to be lost in thought and, once again, Lizzy did not desire to interrupt whatever those thoughts were. “Anyway, back to Wickham. Father had left him a house in London in his will and that, we both had thought, would suffice. Wickham wanted something else – something which would bring him more immediate wealth. He asked me for one hundred thousand pounds instead of the property. I desperately wanted to get him away from what remained of my family, and so I acquiesced. Later I found out that he had it all spent within a matter of weeks, but then I was in ignorance and lived with the belief that George Wickham and I would never have to meet again.”

“Did you?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Last year in fact, just before the general election. My sister went to France with her school and, although worried, I really thought that it'd be good for her; that it would give her a little bit of independence. There was one teacher who she really got on well with and I trusted her with Georgie's care.” He took another sip of the coffee and Lizzy, realizing that she had not drank any of her coffee since the burning incident, also imbibed some. “She was having a brilliant time – she e-mailed me everyday – and I was glad that she was enjoying herself. However, I wanted to see her, and so I flew off to meet her before she came home. When I got there, a most unwelcome surprise awaited me – Wickham. He was there, romancing my sister, persuading her that she loved him and that he loved her. I feared what lengths he had gone to, but my sister informed me that nothing of that sort had happened and, to be quite honest, I have never been so grateful in my life.”

“Didn't her teachers do something? I mean, if Wickham's the same age as you surely they would have suspected something was wrong.” Will let out a bitter, mirthless laugh.

“You'd have thought so, but they didn't. Or, more accurately, one teacher didn't – the one who my sister and I had trusted completely: a woman called Mrs Younge. I don't know how she knew Wickham, but she did, and she let that monster take advantage of Georgie.”

“What happened? Did you get the police involved?”

“No, to my shame I didn't. I didn't want news of what had happened to my sister to get out and that, I fully admit, was selfish, stupid and ignorant. She assured me that nothing of a very serious nature had happened and although I was ready to kill Wickham, she persuaded me to do nothing.” The room was quiet as they both reflected on what he had just said. To Lizzy it was incomprehensible why Wickham had tried to seduce the sister of a man who was arguably one of the most powerful men in the world. Then it struck her.

“It was the money, wasn't it?”

Will nodded. “What else? He was in debt and he needed a way to get that money quickly, they told me – or more accurately, Georgiana told me – that they were going to get married without a pre-nuptial agreement which I would surely have pressed upon him even if his intentions were honourable.”

“I can't believe it.”

“What did he tell you?”

“Wickham said that you were the one who went gallivanting around with countless women, that you got involved with his younger sister and proceeded to cheat on her.” She was ashamed now to admit that she had once believed Wickham's horrid lies, the mere mention of what he had said seemed to taint her very person.

“That is not unexpected. I can see now why you turned to him.” Sadness had crept back into his voice again and it became quieter as well. Lizzy, now more than ever, desired to tell him the truth of what had occurred that night.

“Will, there's something I need to tell you.”

“What?”

“What I said to you, when you came over for the family dinner, may have been slightly exaggerated.”

“Exaggerated, how?”

“I insinuated that I had slept with Wickham.”

“Didn't you?”

“No.” She dared to look up at him and the sight of his face was almost enough to reduce her to tears. There was a hope in his eyes, a happiness that she had not seen in what seemed like eternity, and in turn it filled her with joy and relief and contentment.

“What happened?”

Now she had to tell him the harder stuff. “We went back to my house and we did get...passionnate.” She heard him wince and it was only her strength that enabled her to continue. “I was going to...you know...but I couldn't. There was something, someone, in my mind that prevented me from giving myself to him.” She paused and looked him straight in his deep, brooding, brown eyes. “It was you.” His breath caught in his throat in amazement. “But he wouldn't stop. He pushed me and pushed me and I couldn't get away. I tried to but...for a while I thought that he would...you know.”

“I'll kill him!” Will got up and stormed towards the door. Lizzy rose as well and ran after him, reaching him before he could throw open the door. Grabbing his arm, she brought him to a halt.

“Please don't. I couldn't bear what everyone would say if they knew. Please don't.”

“Lizzy-”

“Please.” Her voice was reduced to a whisper. “Please.”

She noted his internal struggle and she wished so badly that he would find it in himself to do as she said and respect her decision. Eventually he nodded very slightly.

“Thank you, my love.” She leaned into him and hugged his waist. He, however, did not respond. Instead, his body was stiff and restrained. “What's the matter?”

“You said 'my love'.”

“I did.”

“And why?”

She took a deep breath and moved away slightly before gazing up at him. “Because I love you.”

To be continued...

Chapter Thirteen

“You what?”

That was not how Lizzy expected Will to take that news. She had been waiting for an outburst of either anger or happiness or even dismay, but she had never believed that he would be shocked by what she had announced. That said, he did look extremely adorable when he was puzzled.

“I love you.” He did not respond immediately and she grew worried. What if he didn't feel the same way about her? What if he was going to break up with her?

“Thank you.”

Thank you? She told him that she loved him and he said 'thank you'? However she soon realized the need to appear completely nonchalant and mustered up a rather pathetic smile. “You're welcome.” Should this encounter not be filled with passion of one kind of another, and not pleasantries? He seemed to sense her astonishment at his answer, and so decided to try and make his words better, well as much as Will Darcy could.

“Will you go out for dinner with me tonight?”

“Tonight?” He nodded in response to her question. “Where would we go? I mean it's seriously unlikely that we can go incognito.”

“You don't want anyone to see us?”

“Do you?”

“Well, now that you mention it I suppose that it would be for the best if we were to dine in less public surroundings.” That knocked her again but she carried on, resilient little Lizzy that she was.

“What about my flat?”

“Your flat?”

“Where I stay in London, Will. Keep up!” She knew that he knew she was mocking him and was freed slightly more by it. “Remember that first night? A lot of alcohol, with a shot of misery. Well where we ended up, that's where I live. It's only rented.” She could see that Will was hesitant to end up there and attempted to ignore the annoyance that it caused within her. Why did he have to be a complete darling sometimes and a total snob at others? In her mind it was evident that Will would not lower himself to her standards...but she loved him and that love was meant to make her see past the faults. Wasn't it?

“I know, I can recall those events. But,” he raised his hand up through his hair and Lizzy found that when he did this he looked devilishly rakish. “I would rather go to my place.”

“Your place? As in 10 Downing Street?”

“No, my place as in my home.”

“And where would that be?”

“Derbyshire.”

She lifted an eyebrow in disbelief. “Will, don't you think that Derbyshire's a bit too far away for one meal?”

“I don't have any work tomorrow, well nothing organized anyway. And I know that you don't so...” She desperately wanted to ask him how he knew her schedule but refrained. That would quite possibly seem a little too needy. He suddenly seemed to think of something because his face quickly changed into an expression of panic. “I didn't mean anything by it, I mean I don't want you to stay with me in that way....Well I do but that's not the point. What I'm trying to say,” he told her, looking at her smiling face, “is that there are lots of spare bedrooms. You don't have to...well, you know.”

“Will,” she started off very seriously. “Has anyone ever told you that you're so cute when you're embarrassed?” At which point Will duly became, in Lizzy's eyes anyway, even cuter.

“Well, no. Possibly Caroline has at some point but-” He was cut off by her kiss. Soon the conversation, Will's cuteness and even Caroline Bingley were all forgotten about because all of a sudden the only thing that had been important to the other was theirs.

---

Will had flown down to his home almost as soon as his 'meeting' with Lizzy had finished, and at that moment the latter was waiting, rather impatiently, for her flight to be called. She had always hated airports and this one was no exception. It was possibly the hustle and bustle of the places which was always accompanied by crying children and harassed parents. So to pass the time, she had bought a political magazine which just so happened to have Will's picture on the cover. Complete coincidence of course, because there was a rather interesting article on page 43 that she wished to read. It was strange though, because she had never really been that excited about the government's position on GM crops.

“He's a right so and so that one.”

“Pardon?” Lizzy had been taken by surprise by an old woman who was sitting beside her. The old woman looked more like a battle-axe though, whereas another, much younger woman (whom she presumed was the daughter of the battle-axe) was huddled up in a million coats and scarves. Lizzy thought that that was dreadfully mean because it was at least 30°C in the departure lounge. She glanced towards the old woman again and saw that she was pointing, rather imperiously, to the magazine - in particular, to Will's picture.

“That Darcy man. One often wonders how the Tories could have voted in such a cretin.”

“He seems nice though.”

“Nice my eye. He's just waiting for another year and then he'll be off.”

“Do you think so? I gather that he's very committed to his work and,” Lizzy took a deep breath. “I believe that he's really devoted to his work.”

“Hmm, that's very interesting. I wouldn't have expected you to like him.”

“What makes you think that?” Lizzy was genuinely puzzled. What could this woman, whom she had never met before in her life, think about her? Why would she even bother?

“Your clothes, they are...how shall I put this? Rather plebeian.”

Before Lizzy could respond she heard her flight being called and decided, for possibly the first time in her life, to take the moral high ground and not argue. That wasn't to say that it wasn't hard to resist slapping the battle-axe when a smug expression formed on her face.

The flight was really quite short and smooth, despite her fears before they had taken off, and soon she had landed and was now wandering aimlessly, well maybe not aimlessly because she was trying to find Will or someone who he might have sent to pick her up. He had said he would after all.

“Ahem, Miss Bennet?” She whirled around to face the speaker who, she found, was a man wearing a rather impressive (but completely obvious) chauffeur suit. Well, she had never expected that from Will.

“Yeah, that's me.”

“My name is Arnauld Heger, Monsieur Darcy told me to wait for you.”

“How did you know that I was me? If that makes any sense.” They began to walk, Lizzy following Arnauld's lead.

“Monsieur Darcy told me to look for a very pretty lady.”

“He did?” Lizzy was touched that Will might have said that about her and immediately went back into 'giddy-mode' as Jane often called it. Not that there'd been too many such moments in her life, but she always found that good surprises were often the source.

“Oui, mademoiselle. But he also gave he a photograph.”

“Oh.”

“I hope that I did not offend you with what I said to you.”

“No, not at all. The reverse actually, because those words always sound better when they are spoken by a French man.” She caught a glimpse of a smile around Arnauld's mouth and barely refrained from grinning herself when she recollected the battle-axe from before. She so did not want to meet that woman again!

“Then, mademoiselle, you better not tell the boss.”

“Why? Would he be jealous?”

“Oui, most certainly. However there would be something far more dangerous than that.” She was mystified at what Arnauld was saying and couldn't decipher his meaning. Lizzy had always believed that Will could be very jealous and possessive and that suspicion had been proved when she had lied to him about what had happened between her and Wickham. Although, looking back on it, she wondered whether his behaviour had been due to his hurt upon discovering that the woman he's been sort-of seeing had slept (or not) with his former friend.

“And what would that be?”

“The danger is that if Monsieur Darcy was to know about your weakness he might try to exploit it.” At Lizzy's confused look he elaborated. “He speaks French very well.”

“Oh.”

---

It didn't take them very long to get to Will's house - or Pemberley, which Arnauld told her it was called. It was a funny name for a house, she thought upon hearing it the first time, but when they drove up the seemingly endless lane to it and came upon it, almost hidden by clusters of trees, she understood that the name did indeed do this magnificent house justice. Although she had known Will was rich (he was the Prime Minister after all), she had never imagined that he could be this wealthy. Then again, his father and his father's father and all his ancestors had probably been lords of the manor. Hmph, she thought, his family ruled over the sort of people who I stand up for. However, she imagined that there were no such things as chavs in those days - Lizzy was all for equality in everything but sometimes it galled one to know that someone was living off the state who actually was able to find work and a job. But not everyone was like that, she reasoned. I better stop - I'm starting to sound like Will!

She thought of that dashing, debonair man - Lizzy was tempted to think of Will as a 'dude' (purely for the alliteration) but it just didn't seem to fit. Somehow the image of Will in a Hawaiian shirt, topping up his tan while sleeping on a beach didn't exactly strike her as very likely. And anyway, he was far more appealing in a suit. And speaking of Will...

He was standing on the drive way as if he was watching to see her come and that caused that warm, bubbly feeling to well up inside her again.

It seemed as if time was unbearably long, for - to Lizzy - it took an eternity for the car to stop, for Arnauld to unlock the doors and for her to get out. However, the look on Will's face when he saw her again was more than worth the wait.

“Welcome to my humble abode.”

To be continued...

Chapter Fourteen

If Lizzy had have been one of those people who did not form opinions on people based on their family or their wealth before they even met them, she might have been absolutely gobsmacked at the sight that greeted her. Pemberley, Will's 'humble abode' (when, in fact, there was nothing remotely humble about it), was a remarkable feat of imagination, architecture and art - it was one of those stately homes that she had always wished to visit when she was a child but her father had told her that there was no point going there because it would only inflate the already heady egos of the rich and pompous. Perhaps that's where she had gotten her left-wing opinions from. Her father, seemingly the only sensible adult in a 50 mile radius (for Sir William Lucas could never be called fully sane), had influenced her views and beliefs to no end. Her mother, on the other hand, adored the snobs that lived within easy distance of Longbourn, and, in a further act of rebellion, Lizzy had shortened her name (she didn't want to be associated with the Queen) and joined the Labour Party. Of course, Mrs Bennet had been furious when she'd found out and, consequently, her father had locked himself in his study for weeks.

“Lizzy, are you coming?”

“What? Oh, yeah, I was just...your house is amazing.” There go all the dearly held left-wing convictions, she thought to herself.

“It's been in the family for generations.” Will had the sense to look vaguely ashamed. “But I have it on good authority from a local historian that the Darcys were rarely the sort of people to beat their tenants and chuck people out to starve or-” Lizzy's surprise at hearing these words coming from Will was clear, but she began to see that he wasn't really in earnest - he was teasing her. “Come on Lizzy, the first thing I saw on your face was terror - pure terror.”

“Well you don't have to worry about me compromising my ideals - that's my job.” They both laughed and as they made their way into the house - she refused to call it a mansion - a notion occurred to Lizzy. “You don't have a picture of Mrs Thatcher in your house, do you?”

“No. Why? I wouldn't have thought Maggie was your cup of tea.”

“She's really, really not. I'm glad you don't have one. I might have been heading back to the airport if you did.”

“Thank you. I can see your love is very deep then.” It was a light comment so she treated it as such, not wanting to remember that he hadn't said 'I love you' back. They had reached a room that was much smaller than Lizzy had suspected a room in such a house to be. Will explained that it was the sitting room that he and his sister used when they were alone here. “When Caroline Bingley is here though, we revert to the one with the chandeliers and diamonds. Georgie says that Caroline insists that diamonds do her complexion 'the world of good'.” He had said that last part in a female voice that Lizzy presumed was Caroline, not being able to remember her fully from that delightful semi-meeting at the party months ago.

“No, no! You are wrong Mr Darcy! I absolutely insist that sapphires and rubies are the best for anyone's appearance.”

He shoved her playfully and she stumbled slightly. As she was stabilising herself through fits of giggles (something that very much annoyed her as she had always presumed that she wasn't the giggling type), she heard Will mutter 'shut up'. And, of course, that only increased the hilarity of the situation.

“But you must promise me something Will,” she began seriously.

“Anything.”

“That no matter how much I protest, you must never give me sapphires and rubies and diamonds. I think that I'd be quite a vain person with them all.” He laughed softly as he leaned in towards her, savouring the unique Lizzy smell that had deserted him for so long.

“You don't need jewels, Lizzy. You're perfect.” And with that he leaned down and kissed her, a chaste kiss but one that seemed to capture the moment perfectly.

“No one is perfect, Will. I'm certainly not.” Will was tempted to argue but resisted. He knew that it would only shorten the time they had together where they would sit and talk and....

But those were his dreams. All he had to do was make them a reality.

Lizzy sniffed.

“What's the matter?”

“What's cooking?”

“Cooking?” Will's heart stopped momentarily. Cooking? Oh no! He rushed into the kitchen (which was quite a distance from the sitting room) only to be met by clouds and clouds of smoke.

“You cooked?” Lizzy sounded touched but Will was so caught up in the disaster of the moment that he didn't catch that nuance in her voice. It was ruined. Everything was ruined. He was going to cook her a nice, romantic meal and hopefully re-start their relationship on better terms. Now, everything had gone too pot.

“It's burnt.”

“But you cooked. Will, that's so sweet. I didn't even know that men could cook.”

“We're capable for a lot more than you women give us credit for.” That got him a laugh from Lizzy, who had perched herself on top of one of the kitchen counters.

“But you can't multi-task. It's terrible, really.” He approached her, flinging a tea towel on the ground before immediately regretting it. That would leave more mess for him to clear up in the morning. “Don't worry! I'm sure you have plenty of servants to clean for you.”

“Normally, yes. However, I told them to take the next couple of days off.”

“Aww, you'll have to be like the rest of us commoners and do it yourself.”

“You're taking a worrying amount of pleasure in my pain.”

Lizzy smiled at him and gave him another peck on the lips. “Well, you old Etonians...”

“What about 'us old Etonians'?” He seemed to be outraged at whatever comment was going to come next, but she continued anyway.

“Studying Latin and Greek.”

“I'll have you know that Latin and Greek are immensely useful!”

“How? I mean, you don't just go to Rome an start speaking Latin.”

“I'll have you know that Italian is basically Latin in the ablative.” He had walked away from her and towards the table located on the other side of the room. Lizzy jumped off the cupboard top and followed him, taking a chair opposite.

“You're so stuffy. You and your Latin and-”

“Don't criticize the Latin!”

“Ok. But, we really need to eat. I'm starved.” She glanced around her until she noticed a phone sitting at a much smaller table nearby. “Phone.”

“Phone who?”

“Someone for food - it's a well used process.” Will looked hesitant and so she grabbed the phone from it's doily infested table. “Oh, I didn't know you were a doily man.”

“I'm not, they're Mrs Reynolds'. The housekeeper.” Lizzy nodded in comprehension, and moved over to where a pile of leaflets were sitting, smiling to herself at the same time.

“So what do you fancy?”

“Pardon?”

“Pizza? Chinese? Fish and chips?”

---

They ended up with Fish and Chips, a delightfully greasy meal that Lizzy knew she was going to regret having in the morning. Will, on the other hand, was enjoying it thoroughly.

“This is so good, I haven't had this in so long.”

“Your staff obviously have.” He looked up at her questioningly. “There were lots of take away leaflets in the top drawer of the doily monster.”

“That makes me have so much confidence in the cooks.” She smiled and, after pondering the matter considerably, threw a chip at him. “Lizzy! What was...What age are you again?”

“I'm not as bad as my sisters.”

“I don't think anyone could be as bad as your sisters.”

“Will,” she warned him, “Do you want another chip thrown at you?”

“Oh please, no! No, I beg you!” He broke out in laughter in the middle of that statement, and proceeded to nearly choking which Lizzy thought was a fit and just punishment for his cheekiness.

“Men!”

They finished their meal in relative calmness - in other words, Will did not say anything out of turn and so he didn't get pelted by fried potato - and the host got up to fetch a bottle of wine. Lizzy was left on her own, surveying the grandeur of his home. It made her feel insignificant, and that was not something she liked at all, and moreover she felt as though she was somehow...unworthy...of Will's attention - which brought back the hag's comment from the airport. Was she so clearly, so embarrassingly, a plebeian? Would she show Will up if they went out together in public?

Her thoughts were interrupted when Will re-entered the room, trying to carry two glasses, a wine bottle and a corkscrew. “You never do things the easy way, do you?”

“Pardon?”

“You could have poured the wine in the kitchen - not as much to carry.”

“Oh. Right.” He was completely clueless at times and Lizzy wondered whether she should be worried that such a man was in charge of the country. Then again, as world leaders went he was probably one of the most capable of them. Not that she would ever tell him that - it would destroy her political credibility for a start!

They were on to their third glass of wine each when Lizzy remembered why exactly she shouldn't be drinking: she got drunk incredibly quickly. Will, on the other hand, was still stone cold, and very unfairly, sober.

“You know Will, I really, really like you. Not as a politician because you're really, really stupid in that way - I hate big businesses, they're so pooey.”

“Pooey?” Will was looking very smug and amused. Something Lizzy was sure that she would remember and hate him for later, but right now she was far too inebriated to care.

“Hey, just because you went to Eton and have good language skills don't critic-”

“What's the matter?”

“Sleepy. Very sleepy.” She leaned against him and, as he took her wine glass away from her and set it on the table, curled up beside him.

And as they both fell asleep there was only one thing in Will's mind.

This was Elysium.

To be continued...

Chapter Fifteen

Will woke and found that he was extremely stiff. For a moment he wondered what had caused this and why he had fallen asleep on the sofa. Then it all became clear, marvellously wonderfully clear. Lizzy had spent the night with him last night, well not spent the night spent the night but it was almost better than that. At least he knew that he hadn't gotten himself into any trouble so far, so that was progress.

But where was Lizzy?

He searched around him, eyes reluctant to face the blinding light of day, and discovered that she wasn't there. A jolt of fear rocketed through him - he wasn't sure if he could face another few months without her as he had done in the summer. He tried to get up but was promptly pushed back down. He smiled, relieved. It was Lizzy.

“Hey sleepy-head. I thought you were never going to wake up.”

“Lizzy, hi, wait...what time is it?”

“Half eight.” She sat down beside him, curling up to him once again. “I've got a terrible headache - I told you that I shouldn't drink.”

“You're trying to blame this on me now?” He caressed her hair which was still slightly messy and smelt the familiar Lizzy smell once again. If only all of his mornings could be like this one then maybe the country would be a damn sight better governed.

“No, don't worry. I'm a big girl, it's my own fault. At least it wasn't vodka though. Vodka goes straight to my head.”

“So wine doesn't then?” She hit him playfully and immediately regretted it.

“Ow, head.” He placed a light kiss on her forehead and rose, slightly more stably this time, to make them both some coffee. Not that he was sure it would do Lizzy any good, for all he knew she could become a monster after mixing alcohol and caffeine. Oh well, it was all that he could find in the house. All of a sudden he found himself wishing for Mrs Reynolds' return. As he made his way back into the room he heard Lizzy groan again, concerned, he asked her if anything else was the matter. She reddened and told him that it was nothing out of the ordinary. He was still mystified by her response but, because he desired a quiet and uneventful life as far as Lizzy was concerned, kept silent.

“Coffee. Love it.”

“I'm glad.”

“So what's the Latin for coffee then?” Off his startled, and slightly annoyed, look she expanded what she had said. “You keep insisting that Latin's useful for some things...”

“You keep going on like that, my dear, and you might be deprived of any of my future coffee offerings.” She laughed and moaned again.

“Will?”

“Yes?”

“Does your sister, I mean, does she leave her things here?”

“Yes, why?” Lizzy took a deep breath and looked away from him. To Will it seemed as though she was embarrassed which was a very odd thing indeed.

“Well, I was...that is, I need...you know....things.”

“Things?” Will didn't have a clue what she was going on about which he could see was frustrating Lizzy greatly.

“You know things.” She stressed the last word but he was still as ignorant as he had been previously. “It's my time of the-”

“Oh, okay. Right well, yeah, well I think-”

“Thank you.”

She left but Will was still quite disturbed by what had just happened. He knew the ways of the world and had even done Biology to A Level but he didn't want to think that his sister was old enough for those sorts of things, which was a reality he had had to face up to 5 years ago. The fact that Lizzy had talked about it had only increased his embarrassment. Well, at least there was an excuse for her to be cranky now.

In an attempt to clear his mind of such thoughts, he began to tidy the room - the wine glasses were still on the table and, he suspected, the stains too. And he really didn't want to face a very angry Mrs Reynolds. He was still doing this when Lizzy re-entered.

“Did you get-”

“Yeah.”

“Right. Good.”

He heard her give a little giggle which quickly developed into huge bouts of laughter. He wanted to ask her what was funny, if it was him because he really didn't enjoy being laughed at, but he didn't get that far because her contagious laughter got him as well. “That wasn't awkward at all, Will.” He shook his head, sobering up at the sight of her in his home. She looked so natural there and, in truth, there was nothing he wanted more than to make that dream a reality. He was about to ask her what she wanted for lunch when her mobile phone rang.

“Sorry, it's probably just mum.”

“Don't worry.” He made himself scarce while she spoke to whoever was on the other end. It was only when he couldn't hear her voice any more that he left the kitchen and made his way back to the living room.

Lizzy was standing in the middle of the room, phone still in hand, and looked absolutely horrified. His concern for her immediately outweighed any qualm he might have in asking her what was wrong, so, slowly, he walked towards her and placed a hand on her back. She didn't respond.

“Lizzy? Are you alright?”

Still nothing.

“Maybe we should sit down. Lizzy, come on.” She allowed herself to be lead by him over to the sofa, although he was sure that she wasn't really with him in that room. Her thoughts, her worries, her soul, seemed to be elsewhere.

They sat without either of them saying anything. As the moments passed Will became even more worried about what she had just been told. What if someone had died, what if something very bad had happened to them, what if...

“My sister.”

“What?”

“My sister...” Lizzy's voice was shaky, it appeared as though she was struggling not to cry. “Lydia, she's run away.” Well that was bad, but certainly not the absolute catastrophe that he had imagined. “She's run away with...with that worthless piece of scum...it's Wickham.”

“Wickham?”

“Her new boyfriend, remember?” She laughed bitterly. “You know, I really wish I'd told someone about him now.”

“You'll get her back though, the police are good at that sort of thing.”

“Will...I have to leave. Now. I, I understand why you don't want to see me again. I'll just get out of your home and go very far away.”

“Lizzy, I don't-”

“She's pregnant.”

“What?”

“Lydia's pregnant. She's not even in university yet and she's already got two kids.” She got up and put her coat on. “Talk about a disaster.” Will knew that he should move and tell her to stop, tell her not to go, that he would take care of everything. But he didn't. He left her to walk out, utterly stunned and outraged at Lydia and Wickham's behaviour. He barely heard her whispered goodbye. But he didn't respond.

And she left.

Then he heard someone else come into the room and walk over to him. “Will? Who was that?”

“Georgie.”

There must have been evidence of what he was feeling in his voice because his sister instantly became concerned. “What's the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“Please Will, tell me.”

“It's good to have you back.” He rose and made his way to the study. He realized that he would be ashamed at such behaviour later on, but right now all he cared about was Lizzy and making sure that he was the perfect, strong brother to Georgiana.

The minute he entered the study he picked up the phone and called Knightley, determination filling every bit of his body. He had the ability to do something about this disaster, he could fix things in some way for the Bennet family. And he would.

“Knightley, it's Will. I need you to do something for me.” He waited for the other man's assent before continuing. “I need you to trap another rat. His name? George Wickham. For what? The abduction of a girl, no she's seventeen, but I need to find her. Her name's Lydia Bennet.” He had long since given up hope of hiding anything from Knightley and had presumed that the man had already deduced the situation regarding Lizzy. Still, he had said nothing about it and for that Will was immensely grateful. He flipped through the paper that was sitting on his desk while Knightley went away to make enquiries about what action he could take. The absent-minded turning of the page stopped when he saw an article on page 8 - it seem to be an extremely serious matter to that paper, or at least at that time considering that pages 1 to 7 were dedicated to something that the England football team had done.

The article took up the entire page, although Will was sure that it probably merited more, and the photo dominated most of it.

Divide in the Cabinet

Sources in the Government have sensationally revealed last night that the Cabinet is dangerously close to falling apart. The reason for this is the ever increasing, and ever evident, hatred between the Prime Minister William Darcy and the Chancellor of the Exchequer John Willoughby. It seems as though all Cabinet members are being forced to choose sides in this ominous struggle for dominance.

At the time of the Darcy Harassment Scandal it appeared as though Willoughby was the saviour of the Conservative Party, quickly jumping to defend the alleged victim Miss Marianne Dashwood and, according to another such person, Lucy Steele as well. Darcy's career seemed to be over but, by some miracle, he managed to keep hold of his job when many others were calling for his resignation.

Now it emerges that Marianne Dashwood and Willoughby have developed a closer relationship which relies on something much more than just gratefulness. At a party which was held last night by the Ferrars (the eldest son Edward Ferrars is the Minister for Education) there came a devastating revelation.

Miss Dashwood came across Willoughby wining and dining another woman, socialite and heiress Majorie Lavelle, and - so I am told - was outraged at his behaviour. Allegations were brandied about concerning what he had forced her to do and how he had promised her that if she went along with what he said then they could be married. One can only presume that this was in some way linked with the Darcy Scandal, which is now becoming entirely false. The situation was quickly stopped when Dashwood's sister Elinor took her out of the building.

Who knows what this young girl has had to go through as a result of her infatuation with Willoughby, but surely the more important question is, what will happen now and how will the Prime Minster react to what his bitter rival has done?

Meanwhile, Marianne Dashwood's sister Elinor has been caught canoodling in public with Minister of Defence, Chistopher Brandon. A government spokesperson has yet to deny or confirm these allegations, but we at the newspaper feel that the photographs obtained are telling enough.

There will be more about this story tomorrow, but turnover for more photos of the magnificent Beckham's penalty

Well, well, well, thought Will, it seemed as though Willoughby had well and truly caused his own downfall.

Wasn't life brilliant.

To be continued...

Chapter Seventeen

“Lizzy! There's a car...it's really, really fancy.” Lizzy rolled her eyes, thinking that Kitty was just flicking through a magazine and had found her dream car which she knew perfectly well her father would never purchase. No doubt if Kitty liked it then you'd need to win the lottery to afford it.

“And?”

“And it's coming here. To our house. Oh, wow! I wonder if it's a celeb. Peter and Jordan are meant to be around here somewhere!*”

“I highly doubt...” But she was drowned out by Kitty's chatter - it seemed as though, although not quite as frivolous as she had been while Lydia was still there, she was still very immature. Lizzy was determined to ignore her younger sister, but when Mary joined in she was forced to get up. There was indeed a very fancy car heading towards their home, and once it stopped Lizzy realized that it was a government car. Who would be coming?

For a moment she allowed herself to forget her suspicions regarding his advice to Charles and dared to hope that it was Will coming to see her and that he was going to tell her that he loved her and that he didn't care about her sister and Wickham and everything else.

That he loved her.

She had told him that but he had never replied. Now, she believed that the only person who would ever say those three words to her would be the caretaker at her office in London.

Then her dream was shattered when she saw George Knightley - the Home Secretary - jump out of the car. Now Lizzy had some respect for the man but it really was a bad thing to see him just at this moment. Would he gloat? No, she convinced herself, any dealings she'd had with him had told her that he was not that sort of man. But then, weren't men stupid?

“He's so fit!” Kitty shrieked, and Lizzy thought that her eardrums had exploded as a result of that hideous noise. “But he's kinda old. Maybe he has money though.”

“Money is the root of all evil.”

“Don't be such a communist, Mary! We've already got Lizzy and dad without you too.”

“I'm not a communist, Katherine,” Lizzy reminded her. She got up and went to answer the door, worrying slightly as she went.

“Hello, Elizabeth Bennet I presume.” George Knightley smiled at her - and Lizzy thought that even she could not find much malevolence in that gesture. She quickly corrected him that it was Lizzy, and not Elizabeth (which produced an undignified snort from Kitty and consequently a scowl from Lizzy) and escorted him inside. She was hesitant to put him with her younger sisters because of the almighty din that would undoubtedly come from at least the younger sibling, then again all the other rooms were in a shambles.

“These are my sisters, Kitty and Mary. Kitty, Mary this is George Knightley.” A dim sign of recognition came from the younger while the elder merely looked unconcerned - clearly politics was nothing when you had the force of God on your side.

“Pleasure. Call me Knightley.”

After niceties were exchanged and after a fit of giggles from Kitty, Knightley got down to business. “I had a call from someone who was very concerned about your sister, and I was asked to investigate it.”

“I bet you it was Bingley! I knew that he was super duper in love with Jane - I bet you they have some really tortured love. How romantic!” Knightley was taken aback by this outburst and Lizzy ashamed at her sister's lack of sense.

“Katherine, do be sensible for once in your materialistic life. It wouldn't be Bingley - Bingley's a complete waster. It's far more likely that it was Edmund; you know that he and Lizzy have always been good friends.”

“Yes...Yes it was Edmund.” Knightley seemed momentarily uncertain but then covered this with his trademark calm demeanour and related the story of how exactly the series of events which had brought him here had happened.

“And we found out that she was staying in London, that Wickham had taken her to some seedy place there and...well, she might have been in the best of spirits but that's all I can say.”

“You've found her? You've really found her?” Lizzy could feel the tears pricking in her eyes out of relief. “Jane! Jane! Come quickly!” Soon the four remaining Bennet sisters were gathered in the living room with one thanking Knightley so much that he felt embarrassed by such attention.

“Really, it's no trouble. No trouble at all.”

“But thank you George.”

“No, Jane it's fine, really.” Jane was already in tears and their mother, who had realized that the din coming from her daughters must signal something extremely important, came rushing down the stairs.

“Lydia! Oh, Lydia has been found! Oh, thank you sir. She can be married now.”

“Mum, they mightn't want to marry. Loads of people don't these days.” Mrs Bennet let out a sigh of indignation at the thought that her beloved daughter would not get married.

“Lizzy! Don't be so stupid! Of course she will and then, oh I just know that Wickham will be the perfect father.”

It was evident that her mother was already far too carried away with this dream for Lizzy to bring her back to reality. Then it occurred to her that her father would need to be told, she explained this and was about to head out the door when Knightley called back that Mr Bennet had been told just this morning. To everyone in the household that day, Knightley appeared as the saviour and as a prince of men - and any thoughts of Charles Bingley or Will Darcy were not present in anybody's mind.

---

Knightley had declined Mrs Bennet's invitation to stay for tea and had pleaded that he must be away, that he had to journey back to his own home to get to know his friends once again. The disappointment that matriarch felt would be hard to describe, but suffice to say that she was already planning his wedding to Jane.

“Oh Jane! He would be such a good man to have around, and he gets paid a lot too.”

“No, mum. I'm not ready yet.”

“But Jane-”

“I'm sorry, I can't.” The discussion was only stopped when the phone rang and Lizzy went to answer it. However, Mrs Bennet - who was convinced that the caller would be Lydia - picked up the receiver instead and promptly put it on loud-speaker.

“Mum? Is that you?”

“Lydia! I've been hearing so much about you!” Lizzy rolled her eyes. Only her mother could manage to put such a positive spin on events that now the youngest daughter was something like a heroine.

“You should see the ring that Wicks bought me, it's gorge!”

“I knew he'd get you a big diamond! And to think that you did all this on your own - you've never even had a job! Oh, I'm so proud of you.” No doubt maternal tears were welling up right now.

Lydia's voice lowered - as if she was trying to be secretive (which Lizzy thought she was failing miserably at), “You'll never guess who's here. It's only that guy that was at Sunday dinner with us - the one who works with Lizzy. Quite cute, not as much as Wicks but can anyone be?”

“Oh, you mean William Darcy?”

“Yeah. Oh by the way Kitty, I saw these fantastic shoes that would suit you so well.”

And so the conversation went on, but Lizzy was in too much of a spin - Will was there? What was he doing? Rubbing her nose in it? No, no he wouldn't do that. Maybe, just maybe, he had heard of what Knightley was trying to do and had come to see the results. Yes, that was definitely it.

“Oh, and Jane - guess who I saw the other day! Charles Bingley - looking as fit as ever. He kept saying something about how Will had to have been wrong - I dunno what he said actually, but your name came up lots.” And thus Lizzy was brought back to the world and to her life with a bang.

Damn Lydia.

And Will.

And Charles may as well be thrown in there for good measure.

---

Their father had arrived home a far more sombre and severe man than when he had left. It appeared as though he had taken Lydia's behaviour as a sign that he was a bad father, and Lizzy was sure that the fact that he had to get a Conservative to help him out only made things worse. From the moment he entered the door he barely spoke to them apart from some warning to Kitty that if she ever thought of copying her sister's behaviour then he would disown her immediately.

“Dad?” Lizzy knocked on the door of his study the night after he had returned. She was starting to get worried by his period of self-imposed isolation and had brought his dinner to him as he had refused to come out when Jane had declared it ready. She received no answer from her father but decided to go in anyway, convinced that even though he may want to be alone it was perhaps not the best thing for him at that time.

“Lizzy, how did I fail so badly?”

“You're not a bad father - Lydia has always been that way and I don't think that you could have done anything to change her.” He sighed and leaned further back in his chair.

“I could have spent more time with her, chided her less. Sometimes I think that the only good thing to come out of her existence is my granddaughter.” He looked up at her, a bitter smile on his face, “Now tell me that those are the words of a good father.”

Lizzy found that she couldn't and at the same time came to the conclusion that perhaps Lydia and the other younger daughters had felt as misunderstood to their father as Lizzy was to her mother. Perhaps if things had have been different, if their parents' marriage was more amicable then maybe...

“Dad, why did you and mum get married? Was it only because she was pregnant?”

“I....I would like to believe that, at that time, I was in love with her.”

“But you weren't.” Certainly, she had always known that their marriage was never as loving as other couples', but she had always wished that there had been some affection on either side.

“I was infatuated with your mother, she was so beautiful and I was so disillusioned with the world. I made a mistake.”

“You made a mistake?” Lizzy found her rage starting to build up. “Is that all your children are then...mistakes? They must be then if you believe your marriage to be!”

“Lizzy, calm down. You know that I love you and Jane.”

“But what about Mary and Kitty and Lydia, huh? What about your other children?”

Mr Bennet picked up a book from his desk and started leafing through it. Eventually he rose and placed the book in her lap. “This is my diary. Read it. Discover me then, for yourself.” She picked up the book and pressed her fingers against it's cracked spine, feeling all the hollows and ridges which age had left. “And Lizzy, if you do something for me, make sure...make sure that you marry someone you love. Don't live your life the way I have mine.”

To be continued...

* Peter and Jordan - this refers to Peter Andre (a singer) and Jordan (formerly a glamour model) who are often said to be the 'lower class' Posh and Becks. This is a photo of them:

Chapter Eighteen

Lizzy was hesitant to read her father's journal - not out of some worry about his privacy, but because she was scared of what she might discover. The revelation that he did not love her mother had come as a blow, if not a complete shock, and the fear was strong in her that, should she read about his life, she would discover more unwanted secrets.

Slowly, she opened up the tattered front cover and skimmed the first thirty or so pages. The majority of information in those was mainly to do with his family, with his parents, and there was - fortunately - nothing scandalous or surprising in them. However when she turned to page 31 (for her father had scribbled the page numbers into the very top corner in his minute handwriting) all her notions that this was going to be a good thing, that it might bring her even closer to her father, were torn apart.

I met a beautiful woman today, just near the train station where I was leaving my friend off. She had nowhere to go, no one was coming to meet her and I, in the way that I suppose only youths are capable of, scampered up to her and introduced myself. She smiled and, my gosh can she smile! No one, not even Frances Gardiner can claim to possess as much beauty as that woman before me did. I was informed that her name was Sarah and that she had journeyed up to London - on a whim, or so she told me. No doubt her parents - and she herself - are part of the London elite, the accent alone is telling, but I didn't care - I don't care. Soon, without my knowing what exactly I had done, we were in a tiny little restaurant discussing all manner of things - from Shakespeare and Marlowe to why the government was failing us. Truly, I have never met such a woman in my entire life.

Lizzy slammed the book shut - eager to try and put that entry out of her mind. It sounded like her father had been attached to this Sarah woman, and a thought rose unbidden that maybe he had been in love with her, and maybe, just maybe, he still was.

“Lizzy! Dad's gone out! Did he eat anything?”

“No!”

“Lizzy are you alright?”

“I'm fine Jane,” she shouted back to her sister whom she presumed was in the kitchen. She could never tell Jane any of this, could never show her the book, for fear of upsetting her. Jane, good person that she was, would only end up blaming herself for her father's unhappiness - and she did not need any more guilt. Lizzy suspected that her older sister had made herself quite ashamed when Charles Bingley had left, and that was another example of why Jane didn't need to know a single thing about tragic love affairs.

She opened the diary again, and flipped ahead to the next entry which was far more devoted to this Sarah.

I have done it. I have done something which I never believed I was capable of doing, or even something which I thought I never wanted. I have fallen in love, I'm quite convinced of it. It is not with Frances, although she hopes that it was her, but with Sarah. She returned, some 5 days ago, to London and the sorrow I felt on her departure was unparalleled. Surely, this is a sign! A sign that, the moment she comes back, I will propose and - if my luck is good - she will accept. I cannot wait for her return.

As Lizzy turned the page, a piece of paper - it looked like newspaper - dropped out. She picked it up and examined it. At first, she was going to put it back in the book, but then she saw the picture - or rather, the names under the picture. Lord Hamilton marries Miss Sarah Prince. Sarah Prince? Was this, could it be the same woman who her father was devoted to? Well, whoever she was, she was gorgeous - and her husband was equally so. In fact, there was something familiar in his countenance, but she could not place it.

A quick read of the next entry told Lizzy that the women were in fact the same people - and her father was as dejected and despondent as she could ever claim to be. So this was why he was so bitter at times, and she certainly believed that it explained his hatred for the upper classes, but it did show her that he did not mean to act the way he did. In fact, she was sure that the loss of Sarah weighed heavily on his mind every day. Just like Will did with her.

What did it matter that he was arrogant and proud in public? When he was with her, he was nothing except loving and kind and all the other things which made him special. She loved him, she could not, would not, deny it - but if only he had acted better when it came to Jane. If only...

But it was of no use to suppose what might have happened if either of them had acted differently. She had been raised to be better than that, to be sensible and logical and rational.

Her father had taught her well.

---

She was back in Westminster, hoping both that she would run into Will and that she would never have to lay eyes on him again. By anyone's standards, it was a confusing situation.

“Yes, Lady Catherine, of course, Lady Catherine. Nothing could please me more, Lady Catherine.” Oh heavens no. It couldn't be. Fate wouldn't be so cruel to her, would it?

Oh yes it would.

“Oh, Elizabeth Bennet, how delightful to see you again. I have heard a little rumour about a certain someone's family,” he spoke in such a malicious, sing-song voice that she thought that she showed great restraint in not slapping him. “How scandalous! Lady Catherine thinks it is a terrible mess, and so unfortunate.”

“How kind of her.”

“Isn't it? I am so glad that someone else shares my high opinion of Lady Catherine, for she is the best woman I have ever met.”

“Indeed?”

“Oh yes.” He looked her over, and Lizzy found it to be as disgusting as she could have ever dared to imagine. “She did not say that you were a bad thing though...and you are so very lovely. May I interest you in dinner?”

“Pardon?” He couldn't be serious?

“I know an exceedingly good restaurant a few streets from here - Lady Catherine herself recommended it to me. William, she said (for that is my name), you must go out and find someone to go to that place with, for it wouldn't do for you to waste your table.” Lizzy was trying to figure out some excuse that was passable, but she was struggling. Then she saw the clichéd tall, dark and handsome figure approaching her, and with a jolt she realized that it was Will. The choice, at that point, was not difficult - have dinner with a sort of ex who she loved and hated at the same time and who had destroyed her sister's happiness (for he would definitely have to be her excuse and then one thing would lead to another) or she could dine with an intolerable man who just talked and talked and talked.

“Mr Darcy! How honoured I am to be in the same,” he looked around him, “The same corridor as you. Although Lady Catherine does say...”

“I know what my aunt says. She has a habit of telling me, quite frequently, what she believes.” To Lizzy it was evident that Will was indeed annoyed with this woman, but Collins, as usual, could never let his ears hear any criticism of her. So, he managed to turn it around and make it seem like a compliment.

“Yes, she has opinions - good for her, I say! If only more people could be like her, but then there is only one Lady Catherine de Bourgh!” He suddenly realized that he had not introduced Lizzy to his newest friend. “Oh, forgive me! This is Elizabeth Bennet - I hardly think you know her - but she has agreed to go out to dinner with me tonight, so I suspect that I, at least, may 'get to know her better', if you catch my drift.

“Collins! I never said that!”

“Why you did, my dear. We were talking about dinner and you readily gave your consent.”

“I did not.” She wasn't going to add that she had almost but the sight of Will had made her come to her senses. That embarrassment would certainly never end!

“Well, I was just coming to talk to you, Collins, about an amendment to one of the bills you have scrutinized in the Committee. At Lady Catherine's advice of course.” Such a statement and indirect request could not be refused by Collins and soon Lizzy was thanking her lucky stars that Will had been kind enough to rescue her.

Not that she needed rescuing. Of course not.

But she couldn't help but be mightily relieved that she would not have to spend an evening with the miserable, toadish William Collins. She truly believed that if she was forced to hear anything more about Lady Catherine then she would do something which she should live to regret.

---

She had taken refuge at the same bar where she had met Will that first time, and her emotions now were no more stable than they had been then. Then, she had been overwhelmed by all the changes in her life and scared at the same time. Now, she felt exactly the same

“Lizzy? Is that you?”

“Charles, yes. What are you doing?”

“Here?” he sat down on the stool beside her and signalled to the bartender to pour him the same drink as Lizzy's. “Trying to avoid my sisters. Well, Caroline more so. You?”

“Trying to avoid William Collins.”

“Ah. Well, it seems as though we are in the same boat then.” They shared a laugh, but Jane was playing on both of their minds. “How is your sister? The eldest I mean, that is, how is Jane?”

“She's alright, keeping the house going by all accounts.”

“And she's quite happy?” He was concerned and Lizzy almost forgave him for what he did. Almost.

“As much as she can be in the circumstances. I think she's lonely.” Charles drank all of his vodka in one go, letting out a shudder afterwards. “I wouldn't have done that if I were you.”

“No. Not one of my wisest decisions.”

Lizzy couldn't help letting out the next words from her mouth, “When you broke it off with Jane...Did Will do anything to...persuade you?”

“Such as?”

“Give you reasons as to why she wasn't good enough for you.” For a moment she thought that Charles wasn't going to reply, but after ordering another drink and getting out some dreadful menthol cigarettes, he began to explain his actions.

“My sisters did, they told me that my political career would be ruined if I associated with Jane - the thought of anything more serious than that was forbidden. They kept on pestering me with all these comments about your family and your wealth and...well, you can imagine.”

“So that was why you broke up with my sister. Because she wasn't of good enough stock! Unbelievable!” Lizzy was about to get up when Charles grasped her hand and forced her to sit down.

“That wasn't it. I don't care for those sort of things - I've got enough money myself to keep Jane and I going until we are dead.” Lizzy nodded, understanding him slightly more. “But then Will said...He said that Jane did not care for me as I do her. He told me that he believed she only wanted me for my money and that I would be dreadfully unhappy when I was married to her.”

“Despicable.” Lizzy had known that Will must have interfered in some way - but this! This was the very worst sort of revelation for it showed him to be a man of either intolerable cruelty or else a very bad judge of character.

“Don't blame him. I don't. He was only looking out for me.” Lizzy said nothing. “Look, I better go. It's late.” This sudden exit surprised her, but she supposed that maybe he only wanted to escape an awkward conversation. That idea remained until she felt someone else sit down beside her.

“Hello, Lizzy.” It was Will. “I think we need to talk.”

To be continued...

Chapter Nineteen

“Well, I don't want to talk to you, now if you'll just excuse me-” She made a move to leave but Will stepped in front of her and blocked her way. Then, with pleading eyes, he spoke again.

“Please Lizzy, I need to talk to you.”

She hesitated and debated within herself over whether or not she should listen to him. Eventually his puppy dog eyes won her over and she agreed on the condition that he get her another drink.

“No. I need to talk to you somewhere private.” He saw the denial in her eyes and sighed, running his hands through his hair at the same time. “I just need to explain.” Again there was a stony silence. “Look, Lizzy, Charles told you some of the details but...there's more. Please.”

“Fine. Just...stop apologizing. It doesn't suit you.” He grinned as she moved towards the door and quickly went after her. “This better be good. There was a bottle of tequila there with my name on it.”

“I hope not,” he replied darkly.

“You don't get to talk to me like that Will. Remember, you were the one who ruined my sister's life.” He looked down, momentarily ashamed.

“Don't you think you're being a bit melodramatic? People don't die of broken hearts after all.”

“Really?”

“No! Because if that was possible then I would be dead and buried long ago!” Thankfully they were out of the bar and somehow were now in a car, his car by the look of the files and pictures scattered about the seats.

“Oh don't give my any of that rubbish!”

“Who was it that just walked out after that night at Pemberley? Who lied to me about Wickham?” He knew that that was a cheap shot but, caught up in the passion of the moment, found himself unable to stop.

“You broke up Charles and Jane!”

“If they really loved each other so deeply then why didn't either of them do anything? Contrary to what you may believe, Bingley actually does have a brain and independent thoughts.”

Lizzy scoffed at this, “What? Do you mean that he wouldn't go against the wishes and opinions of his best friend and his boss?”

“What? Please don't tell me that you're accusing me of what I think you're accusing me of.” She wouldn't dare, would she? Surely Lizzy knew him better than that... Apart from his sister and perhaps his cousin and Bingley, she was one of the only people who knew him best. Or so he had thought.

“That's it, isn't it? You told Bingley that he would lose his job if he continued to see my sister.” She was looking at him with disgust and it distressed him that she believed him to be such a scoundrel.

“Lizzy, be rational. I can not sack the Deputy Prime Minister because of any qualms over his girlfriend.” She couldn't argue with that, her logical brain winning over the over-emotional heart.

“Fair enough.” She sat further back in the chair and looked out of the tinted window, glancing at the House of Commons as they drove past. “I'd just like to know why you split them up.”

“I didn't think that she loved him.”

“Unbelievable.”

“She didn't show that many signs of it!”

“Oh, so her taking him to Sunday lunch was a sign of her indifference then?” She was relieved to see Will think about that one. Hopefully he would come to the conclusion that she was right and he was so terribly wrong. “Do you know, you two were the first men we had brought home to our family in ages. We are well aware of the consequences.”

“Well yes, your mother is a tad...” He trailed off when he saw her annoyed look and, thankfully, did not say anything else about her mother's character. That halted conversation for a little while because Lizzy, who was still angry, refused to say any more.

“We're just at Miss Bennet's residence, sir.”

“Thank you.”

The driver said something else and soon the car was stopping. Lizzy went to get out of the car but was prevented from opening the door when Will grabbed her arm. “What are you doing Will? You can't stop me going.”

“I love you.”

“Pardon?”

“I. Love. You.”

“Really?”

“Really, really.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“You do know that this doesn't mean that we'll get back together or anything.”

“Of course,” he answered in a hurry. He didn't for one instant want her to think that he had only told her that to get her back into bed or something.

“Good.”

And as she left she told him that she loved him too.

That was always good to know.

The driver was clearly as much of a gentleman as Arnauld and escorted her to the door of her flat for the reason that it was not safe for a woman to be alone in London at this time of night. She had a strong suspicion that Will had made him accompany her, and - rather than increasing her ire towards him - it served to soften her feelings towards him slightly.

“Do you drive in the bad areas a lot then, that you know how to deal with women at this time of night,” she checked her watch and sheepishly corrected herself, “Or morning rather.”

“Only a few. A few weeks ago we were in some hell hole in a veritable slum. Although that lady there wasn't as nice as you are - she merely claimed that my interference and Mr Darcy's wasn't needed.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. But then she can't be the good sort to hang around with people like Wickham - how that boy has changed!”

“W-Wickham?”

“Oh forgive me, ma'am. I see that you have got your door open. Goodnight.” And so he returned to the car, leaving behind a very confused Lizzy.

---

Another fortnight passed until she saw Jane again, the Lydia situation having resolved itself and the Bennet household in a somewhat state of calm, she had decided to return to work the previous week. However, due to both of their busy schedules, they had not had the chance to meet again until Jane had knocked at Lizzy's door, completely out of the blue.

“Hey Jane. How are you?” She was astonished to find that her sister was positively glowing. “Have you met some wonderful guy who's going to whisk you off to some really posh hotel somewhere with palm trees and cabana boys?” Jane laughed.

“Not exactly.”

“So it is a man then. See, my powers of deduction have improved considerably since the time when I failed to realize that the dog had died.”

“You thought he was sleeping and starting poking at him.”

“Poor Snoopy.” Lizzy paused in respect of a very beloved dog who had been too fond of treats and Mrs Bennet's cakes then was good for him. “So? Tell me all.”

“It's Charles,” said Jane while Lizzy was preparing coffee.

“What?” This threw Lizzy into an even greater state of confusion. “How? Why? Explain!”

They settled down to coffee and biscuits, a tradition established since their teenage years when they had grown accustomed to discussing their boyfriends and dates until their mother found them and shouted at the,m for being up so late. “Well, I ran into him a few days ago and we got talking. He told me that he'd been a fool and that, if it was possible, he'd like to get to know me again.”

“And?” This was what was bad about having a shy person as your sister, you never got to find out all the juicy details unless you pushed them very hard.

“He got to know me better,” said Jane quickly before taking a sip of her coffee - very milky with lots of sugar.

“Oh. And this is why I'm only being informed of this development now.” Jane blushed in reply and Lizzy didn't even bother to smother her laughter. “Well, I'm happy for you. Lucky devil you! Why can't I have your luck? I mean, politicians aren't that bad. Unless you count William Collins and then the whole nasty reputation really is deserved.”

Jane, who had never met Collins before, exclaimed that she was being unfair, but Lizzy had no scruple in further condemning him and so Jane gave up and was satisfied to spend more time talking about her beloved Charles.

“And Charles said that it was Will who had really given him the courage to come back and mend our relationship. I think I might love Will now.”

“Will.”

“Yeah, Will - your Will.”

“He is not my Will.”

“If you say so.” Jane's smug smile vexed her sister greatly, but she was in far too much turmoil to get seriously angry with her at that moment. What had made Will change? Could it...could it have been what she had said?

No, that wouldn't be it because Will was far too stubborn and arrogant and gorgeous...

She was still meant to hate him.

Right?

To be continued...

Chapter Twenty

The news of Jane and Charles' reunion greeted Lizzy with the force of a cannon ball, and the revelation that Will had been implicitly involved in the matter shocked her even more. It was true that she had thought (for the majority of their acquaintance) that he was a respectful man, a man who could be trusted, and now all the doubts that she had previously had concerning his character were more or less dispelled. The knowledge that she had been generally wrong about him was galling but all the same it was gratifying and it boosted her ego to know that such a man was actually interested in her. That he loved her.

“Lizzy, are you coming to Westminster with me?” Charles called out to her from the second bedroom in Lizzy's flat. The reason why the new couple were staying there when Jane had a perfectly good flat was simple - Mrs Bennet had gotten wind of their re-ignited passion and was bombarding the eldest Bennet sister's residence with phone calls. And if there was one thing Lizzy was good at, it was lying to her mother, so every time the matriarch phoned Lizzy was able to say, without that much guilt, that she didn't have a clue where Jane was.

“Yeah, just let me finish my coffee!” Lizzy gulped the rest of the liquid down which, as she promptly discovered, was not a good idea. Her sister, herself sipping a cup of tea, did not sympathize, claiming that it was Lizzy's fault that she'd hurt herself. “You're meant to be the good sibling!”

“Oh she's got a wicked streak in her,” said Charles, “Believe me, I know.” He winked at his girlfriend who blushed and busied herself with tidying up the kitchen.

“Thank you for that image,” she told Charles, wincing. “Right, let's go before any more details are revealed and you'll have to sleep on the sofa.” That was incentive enough for Charles and so they soon found themselves in the car and in the middle of rush hour traffic jams. “You know, you're the Deputy Prime Minister - you could exert your power...”

“Tempting, but Will would kill me. Slowly and painfully.”

“Maybe not them - Jane'd murder me as well.” And so they were forced to endure the traffic for the hour it took them to reach the House of Commons which was only a few miles away. “We should take the tube or the bus or something.”

“But what about these?” Asked Charles, holding up a file of government papers.

“You spoil all my good ideas.” They both laughed as the car stopped. “Oh, looks like we're at work. Joy of all joys.” Off his look she explained, “I love it really. Deep, deep down inside.”

They got out and were faced, rather unexpectedly, with photographers and TV cameras.

“Bing, this your new girl?”

“Charles - any cause for concern that you're entertaining a rival MP?”

Ordinarily, Lizzy would have ignored them while making a mammoth effort not to say something which would make things worse. However, Charles stopped and asked Lizzy to stay beside him. He held up one hand which silenced the journalists around him.

“This, as you know, is Lizzy Bennet. Our relationship is merely one of friendship so I would like you to cease making allegations like the ones I heard before.” This statement caused a series of blinding flashes, but he wasn't finished. “However, I am going out with an amazing woman - her name is Jane Bennet, Lizzy's sister. Both Jane and myself would prefer if we were left in peace. Thank you.” Lizzy was surprised by Charles' actions but knew that there was definitely a reason behind it, and it was sweet that he wanted the world to know of his new relationship.

“What was that?”

“I didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea. Besides, I'm in love.”

---

Lizzy had sought refuge in her office from the many questions about her sister and was employed in looking through various complaints from her constituents. The majority were basically boring but there was the occasional outraged one about the awful Conservative government which was 'ruining the country'. Those were the ones that made Lizzy's career worthwhile.

There was a knock on her door.

“Come in!”

“Lizzy.”

“Will.” She didn't know who she had expected, but it hadn't been him.

“You're not too busy, are you?”

“No, not really.” She smiled as he entered, but the smile dimmed slightly when she saw a blonde girl following him in. What was he trying to do? Make her jealous? Well, it had worked...

“This is Georgiana - my sister.” Relief swept through her as she greeted Georgiana. “I've got some work to do and I didn't know who else to...”

“Do you want me to hang out with you, Georgiana? I think that's what your brother's trying to say.”

Georgiana laughed and her nerves were put to rest. “Call me Georgie, Georgiana's very formal.”

“I'm Lizzy, by the way.” She noticed that Will was muttering his goodbyes and was out of the room before she could muster up the courage to ask him for another meeting to discuss what she had found out.

“Oh, I know. Will talks of you a lot. I shouldn't have said that.”

Lizzy, who was taken aback by this information, just smiled and told her that it was fine. “Do you want some coffee? Or there's orange juice somewhere...”

“No, coffee's fine. Thank you.”

“Sit! I don't want your brother to think that I'm some sort of...Well, never mind.” Georgie looked around and, hesitantly, lifted the papers that sat on the only other chair in the room. “So, are you in London for long?”

“About a week. I'd like it to be longer but I have to go with school somewhere.”

“Oh, a trip?”

“Yeah - but it's really educational. I don't mind that but some people are massively annoyed by it.”

“Don't worry about what they think, they're just mindless teenagers - believe me, I know. I was one.”

“Will told me you were nice and funny.”

“Did he?” Georgie nodded and, at finding herself embarrassed again, looked at the articles that were stuck on Lizzy's wall.

“Is that you?” She asked, pointing towards a photo which was heavily dated.

“Yep, unfortunately. In the days when my mum thought that perms were good. In fact, she still does.”

“That's your aunt and uncle, isn't it?”

Lizzy was taken by surprise at Georgie's accurately pointing them out. “Yes. Excuse me but how did you know that?”

“They...they came to tea a couple of days ago. Will knows them and really, really likes them. I like them too.”

“I'm glad you do, my aunt and uncle Gardiner are very good people...and friends.” Lizzy discovered that she could not find the enthusiasm to deal with any more complaints and saw that a whole day of this wouldn't be very entertaining for Georgie, and started to think of better things for them to do. “Do you want to go shopping? I've heard that there are some really nice boots in one of the shops.”

“Do you think...would Will allow it?”

“Yes, he would. And if he doesn't then he can deal with me.” Georgie smiled and followed Lizzy out the door.

---

By the time they returned they were weighed down with bags and aching feet.

“Why do I have these stupid ideas? Spending a whole day tramping round town is just craziness.”

“It was fun though. And you got your boots.”

“Well, there's still a question hovering over my ability to wear them now after that journey of hell!” She knew that she was exaggerating but she felt that sore feet justified complaints. “And you had sensible shoes on. Last time I wear heels to work.”

“Lizzy, you're hilarious. Far more so than Caroline Bingley. She really wants to be Will's wife - for the money of course.”

“Georgiana Darcy, have I corrupted you already with my cynicism? If so then I don't think your brother will ever forgive me.”

“Oh he would. Will loves you, after all.”

“I what?” They had ran into Will and Georgie had returned to her taciturn disposition following the knowledge that her brother had heard what she had said.

“Nothing.”

“You went shopping then?” Lizzy nodded and was ready to face his disapproval. However, it didn't come.

“Lizzy got boots.”

“Really? And what did you get, Georgie?”

“Lots of things.”

Will was not fooled. He had raised his sister for long enough to know that she was no good at lying. “You bought more sheet music didn't you?”

“Yes.”

“Good, it'll be nice to hear something new.” Georgie laughed and, after a not so discreet glance at the other two, told her brother that she'd wait for him in the flat above 10 Downing Street.

“Georgie, you don't have to...”

“Have you been teaching her bad habits?” There was a smile lingering round Will's mouth so she realized that he wasn't serious. Well, not that much anyway.

“Of course not. Wouldn't dream of it.” Will was about to follow his sister when Lizzy spoke again. “Can we talk?”

“Sure. What about?”

“Things.”

“What sort of things?”

“Stuff.” She was unwilling to reveal then and there what she had discovered and how it had changed her attitude towards him. For a moment she thought that he would refuse but then, after taking a look around him, he walked towards her office again.

Once there, they both sat down and Lizzy mustered up the courage to discuss things with him. “Your driver told me about what you did for Lydia.” He looked annoyed at this revelation, but didn't say anything to stop her speaking. “And I just wanted to thank you.”

“You don't have to, I don't want you to. Wickham was my mistake in the first place, I needed to clear his mess up.”

“And for what you did to help bring together Jane and Charles again.”

“I heard what Charles did on the news. But again, it was my fault to begin with.”

Lizzy was frustrated by then. “Must you make it so difficult to thank you? Honestly!” This seemed to amuse Will and that exasperated her even more. “Look, I'm trying to tell you that I'm sorry for being so horrible to you. And to remind you that...that I love you.”

A smile broke out across his face. “I love you too.” He got up and moved towards her, “Can I?”

As he leaned towards her she realized what he was about to do, “Oh, yes. Definitely.” He didn't reply, preferring to kiss her as he had longed to do for months. Finally, when there was no possible way they could continue, they broke apart. “That was...wow.”

“It was.” He took her hand in his and brought it towards his heart, laying soft kisses on it as it went. “Lizzy, you are the most amazing, most beautiful woman that I have ever met. And...well...I was wondering...Will you marry me?”

“What?”

“Will you marry me?”

It didn't take long for Lizzy to answer, and when she did it sealed the happiness of both. “Yes, yes I will.”

THE END

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