The Merry Go Round

Nicki K.

Section I, Next Section

Chapter 1

Posted on Thursday, 26 April 2001, at 9:15 p.m.
"NETHERFIELD PARK IS LET AT LAST!"

Those words had been reverberating throughout Longbourne ever since Mrs. Bennet first heard them. It was not that which she found worthy of repeating so often. No, it was the fact that Netherfield Park had been let by a young man. An unmarried young man. An unmarried young man with a large fortune and the huge income of five thousand pounds per annum. Now that had her truly excited. She had already determined that one of her five daughters would change his status from unmarried to married. Or to be more exact, one of her two favorite daughters.

She would have preferred it be her very favorite, Lydia, but she had to allow that her eldest, Jane, was by far the more beautiful. Mrs. Bennet was, after all, realistic.

"Five times as beautiful, at least," she told Mr. Bennet not long after she had made her decision. "And a rich man would prefer beauty. Jane was not born so beautiful for nothing."

"There will be ample opportunity," she reasoned, "to find Lydia a rich husband. Once Jane marries the newcomer, the rest of our daughters will be thrown in the way of other rich men."

"Yes, that is it," Mrs. Bennet thought, after Mr. Bennet had returned to the seclusion of his library. "Lydia will have her pick of husbands from Jane's new social circle. It would be unfair to limit her to just one choice. After all, Lydia is still young. Her beauty is still developing. Someday soon she will be just as beautiful as Jane. And," she decided, "it would be too cruel to have Lydia leave home so soon. Lydia always makes me smile. Yes, Jane it will be. If only Mr. Bennet took more interest in meeting the young man when he arrived."

The Bennet's closest neighbor, Sir William Lucas, was all aflutter. He vowed he was prepared to call directly when the new tenant made his appearance, while Mr. Bennet merely rolled his eyes and disappeared into his library when the subject came up. Truth be told, Mr. Bennet was enjoying the commotion. He loved the daily displays that Mrs. Bennet put on for his benefit. He had it all planned. He would visit the newcomer. Of course he would. There was never really any doubt on that score. He was, after all, a gentleman and would call upon the young man the same as he would call upon any new neighbor. He was under no obligation, however, to tell Mrs. Bennet that.

"No," he thought, "it will be much more fun to let her fret until the very last moment, then when she has given up all hope, I will spring it on her. She is emotional. She is dramatic. This will be the perfect opportunity to present her with the occasion to give full vent to her talents. It will be my gift to her. It will increase her joy to have to wait for it."

Mrs. Bennet's least favorite daughter, had she been rating them, was Lizzy. She did not even consider Lizzy when choosing which daughter would be married to the new neighbor. There was something about Lizzy that made her uncomfortable, actually there were a lot of things about Lizzy that made Mrs. Bennet uncomfortable. She always seemed to be laughing. It got on Mrs. Bennet's nerves, which made Lizzy laugh even more. Not that she was rude enough to laugh out loud in Mrs. Bennet's face. No, Mrs. Bennet had taught her better than that. It was that look on her face, that smirk, implying that Lizzy was dealing with a difficult child. That look made Mrs. Bennet feel for certain that Lizzy was laughing to herself. And that feeling of being laughed at, in turn, did nothing to improve Mrs. Bennet's nerves.

"My poor nerves," Mrs. Bennet lamented. "It is all very vexing!" Mrs. Bennet was the mistress of an estate that was entailed away from the female line and there she was, stuck with five daughters. No sons. She knew that Mr. Bennet had done it on purpose just to make life difficult for her. He had no consideration for her nerves.

"After all," she fretted, "had it been left up to me, I would have had a son, perhaps two, then locked my bedchamber door. An heir and a spare. That was all that we needed to break that stupid entail. Now Iam stuck with five daughters and a husband who refuses to call on our future son-in-law. It is all his fault! Oh, I feel faint."

Theirs was a small neighborhood, with only four and twenty families dining together on a regular basis. There were few available young men with whom to socialize. The families all seemed to be made up of young women. Unmarried young women. Mrs. Bennet knew she could not afford to let the other fathers get to the new neighbor first. It would be a shame if the new neighbor were to take an interest in one of the other young women. Mrs. Bennet did not like to think of the hurt feelings that would be involved when he then made the acquaintance of Jane and switched his allegiance.

"No," she thought kindly, "better if there were only a way to induce Mr. Bennet to call. It would save so much fuss and bother to have him fall in love with Jane at the outset." She always tried to be kind and thoughtful.

The days passed and soon even more rumours were flying. He now had a name: Mr. Bingley. Mr. Charles Bingley. And he was going to bring a large party of friends when he came to stay at Michelmas. A large party of friends. Mrs. Bennet was thrilled. What could be better? They were sure to be all rich, unmarried men. She wondered how large, large was. It might be possible to get more than one daughter married. Lydia then said something about ladies in the party. In fact, she mentioned quite a lot of ladies. Mrs. Bennet was surprised when Lizzy had seen the complications at once.

"Too many ladies," Lizzy said. For once, Mrs. Bennet and Lizzy agreed on something. Mrs. Bennet was pleased to at last have Lizzy agree with her. She now felt the importance of Mr. Bennet calling upon Mr. Bingley even more urgently. Not a moment was to be lost.

That Mr. Bennet! If his continued good health had not been so important in maintaining her position as Mistress of Longbourn, she would have strangled him. He was impossible!

Michelmas came and went and soon after Mrs. Bennet heard news of Mr. Bingley from his callers. Sir William Lucas had been one of the very first. Lady Lucas had made a point of telling Mrs. Bennet of his visit as soon as was humanly possible. Even Mrs. Long had made Mr. Bingley's acquaintance. Well, Mrs. Bennet knew that it would all be in vain.

"After all," she thought spitefully, "what rich man would look at the Lucas girls? And Mrs. Long's nieces. They have even less to recommend themselves than those Lucas girls."

Unbeknownst to Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Bennet was also among the first to call upon Mr. Bingley and had formed a very favorable impression of the young man. Favorable enough that if Mr. Bingley were to fall in love with one of his daughters, he decided he would be happy to give his permission at once.

"Perhaps," Mr. Bennet thought wryly, as he watched the eager, friendly young man while they spoke, "I should just give my permission now and save him the trouble of asking." He could not help but smile at that thought. He noticed Mr. Bingley's quizical look. "Or, perhaps not," he though, "Mr. Bingley might like to at least meet them before asking."

Less than a week remained until the next Meryton Assembly was scheduled. The Bennet girls had gotten new gowns. Jane and Lydia had. Lizzy was perfectly content to wear one of the gowns that she already owned, while Mary actually preferred wearing an old gown. Only Kitty was left dissatisfied.

"It's not fair," Kitty grumped to whomever would listen. "I have as much right to a new gown as Lydia. More, for I am two years older."

It happened that when Lizzy heard her lament, she said, "Kitty, you know that you look lovely in the gowns you have, while Lydia really is in need of a new gown. You are fully grown, while she is still growing and the old gowns that she has no longer fit her properly. I would not wish to be seen with her wearing something so ill fitting. Would you?"

"But Lizzy," Kitty sniffled, "Mama has decided that Mr. Bingley will marry either Jane or Lydia. She does not think that he will even look in my direction. I am not worth the effort or expense of a new gown."

Lizzy sighed deeply. "No Kitty, nor am I. We shall just have to sit in the corner with Mary and discuss philosophy."

Kitty looked at Lizzy in horror and made a mental note to herself not to speak on the subject to Lizzy again, which may very well have been Lizzy's intention. The thought occurred to Kitty, but with Lizzy, one could never tell. Best to take no chances.

MEANWHILE AT NETHERFIELD, Miss Caroline Bingley was mad. No, she was irate! She was as angry as she could ever remember being. In her entire life! She was stuck in the backwater called Hertfordshire and her main reason for being there had just been taken away.

"Mr. Darcy not coming," she fumed. "First he said he would meet us here after he paid a surprise visit to Ramsgate to see that pathetic little mouse he calls his sister. Next thing I hear, he has an emergency at Pemberley that must be attended to at once. Now he writes to say that he does not think he will be able to leave Pemberley for quite some time. Bah! This was to be the culmination of all my years of effort. This was to be the occasion of my betrothal to Mr. Darcy. It is all his sister's fault. It must be. He should never have taken the time to visit her in Ramsgate. I will call a halt to that sort of brotherly behavior when I become Mrs. Darcy."

She paced the drawing room floor, wishing she had someone, anyone, to vent her spleen upon. Her brother, Charles, was out visiting the farmers who worked the land surrounding Netherfield. Her sister was tending to her pathetic, drunken husband.

"What is happening with Charles?" she muttered aloud to herself. "When I demanded that we all go back to London, he told me I was welcome to go, but that he intended to stay, Darcy or no Darcy. What does he mean by that? He cannot mean that he really enjoys the society here. It cannot be born! He must be made to see reason."

Mr. Charles Bingley was enjoying the society in Hertfordshire and had no plans to leave, for one very good reason. Soon after his arrival, he had been in the fields speaking with Mr. Evans, one of the farmers who worked the Netherfield lands, and he had seen a group of young women pass by on the road to Meryton. In that group, he had seen an angel.

"Mr. Evans," he had asked, "would you be able to tell me who those young ladies are?"

"Aye, Mr. Bingley," Mr. Evans had replied. "They be the Bennet lasses. A finer family of girls you will find nowhere." Mr. Bingley had agreed with Mr. Evans at once. Most heartily!

A day later when Mr. Bennet, the father of the angel, had come to call, Mr. Bingley had been genuinely thrilled. The two had gotten on famously. He had heard from several other of his visitors that the Bennet family had been blessed with not only great beauty, but sweet and virtuous natures, as well. Better and better.

Mr. Bingley had no plans to leave Netherfield and told his sister that in no uncertain terms. Indeed, he was eagerly awaiting the Assembly being held in Meryton, for there, he hoped, would be the opportunity to meet the angel. He spent a good deal of time visiting the farmers that worked the land between Longbourn and Netherfield, being rewarded with several more glimpses of the angel.

THE SHADES OF PEMBERLEY were cool and soothing during the unseasonably hot weather of early October that year. Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy and his young sister, Georgiana spent much time walking through the many woods and groves surrounding their home.

Mr. Darcy thought back to his surprise visit to Ramsgate, where his sister had gone with her companion for a visit during the late summer. He had been the one surprised. More than surprised. Shocked! He had been shocked and grieved to find his sister arm-in-arm with the scoundrel, George Wickham.

"Will we never be free of him?" Mr. Darcy silently groaned as he looked at his sister's solemn face. "She should be playing games, playing with dolls, not fancying herself in love with that reprobate. He stole her childhood away from her." He vowed again at that moment to make the healing and protection of his sister the major focus of his life. He would do anything to provide the proper environment necessary for her to flourish, even if that included marrying someone he did not love in order to provide her with a sister to guide her into adulthood.

Chapter 2

Posted on Sunday, 29 April 2001, at 3:43 p.m.

THE CANDLES WERE lit, the flowers arranged, the tables prepared for refreshments, the musicians were tuning their instruments. The Meryton Assembly Rooms were ready for the evening ahead. It would be a momentous night, indeed.

Mrs. Bennet and her five daughters were among the first to arrive. She had rushed all her daughters in their preparations, all excepting Jane and Lydia, of course. Jane and Lydia. Lydia and Jane. Her two favorite daughters. In her eagerness to be introduced to Mr. Bingley, she forgot all ideas of being fashionably late and making a grand entrance.

"No," she thought as she inspected her daughters prior to mounting the carriage. "It would be better to greet Mr. Bingley when he arrives, that way he will be able to meet Jane immediately. Oh, what a good surprise it was to find that Mr. Bennet visited Mr. Bingley so early after his arrival. Mr. Bennet is the very best of husbands. Now we can rest assured that Mr. Bingley will not feel slighted. Now nothing stands in the way of an alliance between my dearest Jane and Mr. Bingley. Nothing at all."

The trickle of arrivals quickly swelled and soon the assembly rooms were teeming with activity. Mrs. Bennet kept her attention fastened to the entry, waiting for that magical moment when Mr. Bingley appeared.

The musicians began to play the introduction to the first dance and still there was no sign of Mr. Bingley and his large party. His large party of unmarried, rich friends. Mrs. Bennet began to fret. She patted her head to make sure her feathers were still securely fastened in her mass of curls. She tugged on her dress, making sure that the folds of the skirt hung correctly. She fingered the lace edging on her sleeves. A young man approached Jane and looked as if he were about to ask her to dance, but after seeing the forbidding look on Mrs. Bennet's face, he veered away and asked Miss Amy Long to dance.

"Mama," Lizzy whispered, seeing what her mother was about. "Do you not think it better to have Mr. Bingley see that Jane is admired by all than to think that no one is willing to stand up with her?"

"Oh, dear," Mrs. Bennet thought. She knew that Lizzy was a clever girl. "Perhaps you are right. Perhaps he will think less of Jane if she is standing on the side instead of dancing. Oh, dear!" She beamed at Lizzy. She thought to herself, "Perhaps Lizzy is not so bad after all."

Mrs. Bennet commanded the next gentleman to pass their way to ask Jane to dance. He was only too happy to comply as Jane was considered the finest gem of the neighborhood. Lizzy watched the whole display with growing amusement. Lizzy moved away from her mother to speak with her friend, Charlotte Lucas, and was soon herself asked to dance.

Mrs. Bennet fussed. She fretted. The dancing had been underway for over half an hour and still there was no sign of Mr. Bingley.

THE CARPET IN THE ENTRY hall of Netherfield would never be the same. Mr. Bingley had been pacing back and forth, causing a matted path of footprints to form. His brother-in-law, Henry Hurst, was calmly sitting in the drawing room, drinking port, while his sisters, Caroline and Louisa, prepared for the evening's festivities. Mr. Bingley stopped and looked up hopefully at the top of the stairs when he heard the sound of movement, only to be disappointed when he saw a maid bustle by in the hallway at the top of the stairs.

"For two women who said they did not wish to go to this assembly, they are taking an inordinate amount of time preparing themselves for it," he muttered. He resumed his pacing, then got an idea. He turned and went to the drawing room door.

"I say, Hurst, would you be awfully offended if I rode on ahead and left you to accompany Caroline and Louisa to the assembly?" he asked hopefully.

Mr. Hurst drained the liquid from the bottom of his glass and looked up. "Of course not, Bingley. If I have any luck, without you to nag at them they will decide to stay home. In any case, this will give me time for a little more fortification against the boredom. Ride away. Leave the ladies to me." He lifted his empty glass in salute to Mr. Bingley, then reached for a refill.

"Thank-you, Hurst. I knew I could count on you." He turned on his heel and headed back to the entry. "Good chap," he thought, "aside from drinking a little too much." He tactfully refused to think about the reason that Hurst drank so much. It would not do to attribute Louisa as the cause of the man's intemperance, no matter how true it might be. "No," he vowed, "I shall never think that."

As he came out of the drawing room, he saw his sisters descending the stairway.

"Really, Charles," Caroline said. "I thought you were in a hurry and now I see that you have been in the drawing room joining Mr. Hurst in a drink. Have you changed your mind about attending?"

"No, indeed, I have not, Caroline. I was just making arrangements to go ahead without you. If you would rather stay home, it would be fine with me."

Caroline was still upset about being thwarted in her plans to marry Mr. Darcy and seeing how eager her brother was to depart, determined to be as slow as possible. She was sure that he had something to do with Mr. Darcy's desertion of her. He was probably in collusion with Miss Perfect Darcy. He was supposed to marry her, not form plots with her. "That little minx," she muttered to herself.

"Oh, no, Charles," she said. "I have quite changed my mind, which is why I am taking such care in getting ready for this evening. I realized how important it is for you to make a good first impression and I want to do you credit. I will not let you down. I promise. It will only be a few more moments before Louisa and I are ready to go." She paused for a moment. "Oh, dear, I seem to have forgotten something important. I will be back in an instant." She turned and climbed back up the stairs, smiling to herself as she heard her brother's soft groan.

After what seemed like almost an eternity to Mr. Bingley, but was, in truth, not above a half hour, Mr. Bingley and his party were at last seated in his carriage, pulling away from Netherfield and heading toward Meryton.

THE DANCING AT THE ASSEMBLY proceeded for over an hour while Mrs. Bennet waited for Mr. Bingley to make his entrance. She was wracking her brains, trying to find a circumstance or a person to blame for his absence when there was a pause between dances and in that pause, a commotion began at the entryway. The whole of the assembled dancers turned to look at the small group of people that had entered. It was obvious who they were. Even if Mrs. Bennet had not heard his name whispered by numerous voices, she would have known it was Mr. Bingley. She could recognize money when she saw it.

"Where is the large group of young men?" Mrs. Bennet muttered in dismay to Jane who had just returned from dancing. "Two men and two women. This is terrible! Next we will find out that he is married and there is no single Mr. Bingley at all. Oh, what will become of us?" Mrs. Bennet could feel her nerves begin to protest.

Jane, too, was watching the newcomers when the taller of the two men, the handsome one with blond, curly hair, looked over at her and caught her eye. She stared back, startled by the man's steady gaze. She felt a blush rising onto her cheeks and after several long moments, an eternity really, she tore her eyes away in embarrassment.

"She is here!" Mr. Bingley wanted to shout when his eyes had picked her out of the crowd. He noted the pleasing blush that rose on her cheeks and when she turned her eyes away from him he began to search the room for her father. Unable to locate Mr. Bennet, he turned his attention to Sir William Lucas who had stepped forward to welcome him to Meryton. He allowed himself to be introduced to Sir William's daughters, even asking the elder to dance, as politeness dictated.

"She watches me when she thinks I am not looking," Mr. Bingley thought with a smile after he had caught Jane's eye for the second time during his dance with Charlotte. "She is even more lovely this close up. She is an angel."

He saw his sisters during one turn of the dancing and felt a small pang of guilt. They looked miserable. And Hurst . . . . well, no worries there. He was happy. He had found a chair and a bottle. The next turn in the dance brought Jane back into his view and his sisters were forgotten. He had an thought. One which he knew he should be ashamed of but he thought it all the same.

He thought, "What a good thing Darcy is in Derbyshire and not here. Were he here, he would be the one to catch the notice of Miss Bennet and with her great beauty, she would catch his eye." The thought should have made him ashamed, as Mr. Darcy was his closest friend, but it did not. This night belonged to him. This night he did not want to take his place behind Mr. Darcy as their relative status in society had always dictated. This night he was glad he did not have to defer to Mr. Darcy where Miss Bennet was concerned. This was his night.

Jane could not help but feel his eyes on her, even as she determined not to seek him out. As much as she tried, she could not keep herself from watching him proceed through the dance with Charlotte, looking away only when there was the danger of him seeing her watch him. Several times, however, she was not quick enough.

"He would rather be with me," Jane thought with pleasure as their eyes connected briefly. He smiled everytime their eyes met. Everytime their eyes met, she blushed.

Mrs. Bennet was almost frantic. "There he is and because Mr. Bennet refused to come, he was forced to ask Charlotte to dance first of any. But wait! He keeps looking this way." Mrs. Bennet turned in time to see the blush rising on Jane's face. She quickly looked back at Mr. Bingley to see him watching Jane, a smile beginning on his face.

"All is not lost," she said to herself in relief. "Of course not. All he had to do was get a glimpse of Jane. I knew it would happen. It is just as I planned."

At long last the dance with Charlotte was ended and Mr. Bingley asked Sir William to introduce him to Mrs. Bennet and her daughters. He followed Sir William toward her, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

"Jane, her name is Jane," he thought as Mrs. Bennet continued to name off her daughters. He struggled to follow her conversation and somehow managed at the appropriate moment to ask Jane to dance for the next two.

Lizzy could not help but be amused as she watched the yearning looks pass between her sister and Mr. Bingley. "Perhaps Mama is right," she thought. "Perhaps all Mr. Bingley needed to do was see Jane to fall in love."

She wistfully watched them take their place in the dance, smiling only for each other.

THERE WAS A CHILL in the air at Pemberley that evening, the first real chill they had felt that autumn. Mr. Darcy watched the flames leap and dance in the fireplace while his sister played the piano-forte. His thoughts had been turning more and more toward matrimony since he and Georgiana had returned from Ramsgate.

He had always hoped to marry for love. He had even fancied himself headed toward love several times. The young women involved had been lovely, but there had been something lacking in each. They had been suitable in every way but one. There was no depth to their thinking. His opinions became their opinions, his ideas were the most clever they had ever heard. He longed for someone to understand him, not agree with him. Someone who could challenge him, not placate him.

He now knew that his own desire for a special relationship, one that would fullfill his dreams, was not only an improbability, but also selfish. He had his sister's needs to consider. He would have to give careful thought as to the next Mrs. Darcy. First and foremost would be to choose someone that was strong. Someone able guide and shield Georgiana as she made her way into society.

Chapter 3

Posted on Wednesday, 2 May 2001, at 3:56 p.m.

"KITTY AND I DANCED EVERY dance, and Mary none," Lydia said dramatically as she collapsed on a chair after Mrs. Bennet and her daughters returned from the assembly.

Lizzy saw Mary flinch and spoke up. "There were far too few agreeable partners, Lydia. I, myself, spent a good portion of the evening watching from the sidelines or visiting with friends."

"Jane was so admired", gushed Mrs. Bennet to her husband. "It was just as I said it would be. Once Mr. Bingley laid eyes on Jane, he could see no other."

"Mama," Jane protested, "he danced with Charlotte and Lizzy and Amy Long. Indeed, he danced every dance."

"Yes, Jane, he did," Mrs. Bennet said, smiling at the memory of the dance, "but he could hardly keep his eyes off of you, even when he was dancing with the other girls. You are the only one that he asked to dance more than once and he made sure to bring you refreshments and stand by your side while you ate them. Plus, he made a point to introduce you to his sisters. Oh! Such elegant women. Such lovely gowns. The lace on Miss Bingley's gown. I have never seen such lace. Why it was . . . "

"Enough of lace, I beg of you," Mr. Bennet interrupted. "Tell me Lizzy, what did you think of Mr. Bingley?"

"It grieves me to have to disappoint you Father," Lizzy said, laughing, "but I am afraid that I must agree with Mama. Mr. Bingley did seem very taken with Jane. I believe that he would very much like to continue his acquaintance with her."

Mr. Bennet looked at his favorite daughter, his surprise great. She had agreed with her mother. It was a rare occurance, indeed! She was usually careful not to admit it, even when she did agree with her mother.

Jane, unable to listen to the conversation any longer with composure, excused herself to go to bed. She longed for the solitude of her room so that she could relive the evening in her memory. As soon as she left the room, her face was split by a happy smile. This would be a night she would never forget.

"I SAW LITTLE BEAUTY and no breeding," Caroline snorted as she paced the drawing room in Netherfield. "It was as I knew it would be. Now, will you consider returning to town, Charles?"

"I had a wonderful evening," Mr. Bingley argued. "I have never seen so many pleasant girls in all my life. Some of them were uncommonly pretty."

"I suppose you mean the girl you introduced us to, what was her name?" Caroline asked snidely.

"Miss Jane Bennet," Mr. Bingley replied, his voice growing soft with the remembrance of her smiles.

"She smiles too much," Caroline said tartly. "I suppose she is pretty, in a provincial sort of way."

"She's an angel!" Mr. Bingley replied. "She is the most beautiful creature I have ever beheld and I dare you to disagree."

Caroline started at the tone of his voice. "How dare he speak in that tone?" she thought. "I am his sister and she is nothing. He never saw her before this evening and already he is besotted. This is quick, even for him. If only Mr. Darcy were here. He could open Charles eyes to his own folly."

Louisa saw the her brother was becoming irritated with Caroline. After several long, uncomfortable moments of silence, she knew she had to speak.

"Yes, Charles, Jane is very pretty and I think that I would like to know her better." She glanced at Caroline and saw her narrowed eyes. "It grieves me to disagree with you about Jane, Caroline, but there it is."

"You misunderstood me," Caroline replied. "I did find meeting Jane to my liking, but the rest of the gathering. . . . I am afraid, Charles, that we have nothing in common with them."

"Give them time, Caroline," Mr. Bingley pleaded. "I am sure that underneath their country manners and dress, you will see that they are fine people."

JANE LAY IN HER BED, unable to sleep. She remembered every glance, every smile, every blush, every word he had spoken to her, every touch of his hand as they danced together. She began to blush again in the darkness of her bed chamber when she thought of the times that their hands had touched. It being a country assembly, she had worn no gloves, and had been glad for it. His hand had been warm, his touch gentle, even as she could feel the strength of his fingers.

She tried to calm her pounding heart, but she could not keep her thoughts from him. She had never felt such feelings before. Never even known that such feelings could be felt. Stronger even than the feeling from the touch of his hand, was the feeling that overtook her when their eyes met. She knew that he felt the same. She could see it. She closed her eyes to bring up the vision of his eyes.

She could not help herself. She was not normally given to such fantasy. Mrs. Bingley. Mrs. Jane Bingley, wife of Mr. Charles Bingley. She hugged her pillow close, wondering what she would feel when he put his arms around her for the first time. She caressed her stomach, thinking about the children she would bear him.

LIZZY SMILED AT THE memory of her sister and Mr. Bingley. She had never believed in love at first sight, but now she knew she must allow for it. She had seen the instant connection that they had made with their eyes when Mr. Bingley had first come into the assembly rooms. It had been like a thunderbolt. She had seen the powerful reactions that they had to each other. Even before they had been introduced, they had had eyes only for each other.

"If only," she sighed in remembrance of their looks, "if only there were such a man for me. A man who would look at me in such a way. A man who would not care that I was just a country girl with a mere fifty pounds a year."

THE LAST GUESTS HAD left Rosings Park and Lady Catherine deBourg sat before her dressing table thinking about the suspicions she had formed after watching Lord Caverstock and her daughter, Anne. She had never seen a man look at Anne that way. She had never expected to.

"That man is only interested in Anne for her position in society, her money, I am sure," she said to her reflection. "This is unacceptable. It will not do. I will not allow him to court her. She is for Darcy. My sister and I planned it while she was still in her cradle. It is my fondest wish, as it was his mother's."

She took out a sheet of paper and began a letter to her nephew, ordering him to visit on matters of the utmost importance. She wrote rapidly, needing no pause for reflection. She knew what she wanted to say and she said it. She finished and reread it with satisfaction. It was a short letter by her standards, covering only three sheets of paper front and back, but she did not wish to take the time to give her usual advise on the management of Pemberley. No, she needed to summon him immediately.

JEFFREY WALLACE, EARL OF CAVERSTOCK gazed out of his bed chamber window into the darkness.

Lord Caverstock had never expected, nor desired, to be elevated to his current position as Earl. He had been a younger son. A third son. He had idolized his oldest brother, the heir, Edmund.

His relationship with the spare, Robert, had been complicated. Robert had been resentful and jealous of Edmund and it made him angry to see Jeffrey follow Edmund around. Robert had taken out much of his bitterness on the smaller boy. When Edmund had died without an heir, Jeffrey had sincerely hoped, even in his grief, that Robert would find happiness in the position that he had always coveted. Robert's bad habits, unfortunately, had already become fixed and his elevation to Earl had only given him more money and more opportunity in his quest for self-destruction. He had not lived two years past his brother's early death.

Therein lay Lord Caverstock's problem. Or at least the largest one of them. Two brothers dead in less than two years time. Should something happen to him, there was no spare left. If he did not marry and produce an heir, the title and estates would pass out of his immediate family and to a distant cousin upon his death. While Lord Caverstock had no immediate plans to die, his mother was frantic that he would. And soon. Where would that leave her? She would be the dowager Countess, but she knew that her position as the distant relative of the Earl would not be anything so great as the grandmother of the Earl.

Lord Caverstock had tried to find a wife. He really had. He had done his best. He left the army at his mother's request. He had attended balls, musical evenings, the opera, card parties, any and every place that his mother had insisted upon. What really bothered him was this: When he had been the third son, with only a military career before him, no one had paid much attention to him, unless it was as a means of being introduced to one of his older brothers. Suddenly, as Earl, he was the toast of the town. The same women that had ignored him, or women just like them, flattered him and pushed their daughters at him, each hoping that he would pick her daughter to marry. The daughters, many of them, were just as bad. Treating him as if he were the most wonderful man to ever grace their presence.

He knew better. He had spent enough time in the army and was talented enough to have made the rank of major by the time he was thirty, to know that their flattery empty of meaning. Flattery that he found distasteful. He was sure that there were worthy young women taking part in the season, but he had lost his taste for it and retired to the family seat in Kent. He had given up all thought of young women until he had seen Anne.

The first time he had seen her, riding in her open gig with her companion, he had hardly noticed her. He had tipped his hat in polite greeting and ridden on, aware only of a pale, thin girl accompanied by a middle aged lady. The next time that they had passed, he noticed a smile. A fleeting smile, a embarrassed look. He could not bring her face to his mind, just her smile. Each time he saw her, she smiled. Only that. Just smiled. She did not try to flatter him or agree with him. She just smiled at him, as one human being would smile at another. She was pale, thin, and had not much beauty to recommend her. Nothing but her shy, embarrassed little smile. For several weeks he had not even known her name.

His mother had not been eager to accept the invitation from Lady Catherine for dinner. It was more like a command and Lady Rebecca did not like being commanded. Especially by someone lower in rank. Lord Caverstock, however, was eager, much to his mother's surprise. He had insisted. And now they had spoken.

MR. DARCY TURNED AGAIN, becoming tangled in the bed linens. He sighed and rose, putting on his warm wollen robe and his slippers. He lit a candle and decided to walk through the house, an activity that he had resorted to frequently over the last month.

Trying to take his mind off of his own problems, he thought back to his friend's letter, or what passed as a letter. Really more of a note. Short. Written rapidly. Full of crossed out words and blots.

"He seems happy enough," Mr. Darcy thought. "Something about meeting an angel. I hope he knows what he is about." Mr. Darcy pulled himself up short. "Bingley will just have to take care of himself. My concern must be Georgiana."

Chapter 4

Posted on Wednesday, 9 May 2001, at 6:06 p.m.

THE NEXT FEW WEEKS were busy ones in Hertfordshire. There were no less than three dinner parties, one musical evening, and two tea parties. Mr. Bingley and his family attended all of them, as did the Bennet family. At each gathering, Mr. Bingley sought out Jane at the earliest possible moment and stayed at her side until forced by propriety to part from her.

Although there had been no formal request, it was obvious to all that it was only a matter of time before Mr. Bingley proposed marriage to Jane. Mrs. Bennet was happy. Mr. Bennet was happy. Lizzy was happy. Mary, Kitty and Lydia were happy. Their neighbors were happy. Even Mr. Hurst was happy. Everyone was happy for the young couple with the exception of Mr. Bingley's sisters. They were irate. They had planned on their brother marrying someone much more elevated in society. Someone like Georgiana Darcy. Someone who would raise their status and remove the taint of trade from their names forever. Someone who would connect them more closely to Mr. Darcy, increasing the likelihood that Mr. Darcy would marry Caroline.

There had been several days of rain followed by a day of warm, sunny weather. Lizzy, who had grown restive being confined to the house, took advantage of the break to escape on one of her rambles through the countryside. She left directly after breakfast and wandered for several hours, feeling refreshed after the forced inactivity. She was approaching Longbourn from a path through the wilderness when she saw the carriage. Mr. Bingley's carriage.

She knew at once that he must have brought his sisters with him. There was no other reason on such a fine day. He had told her how much he preferred riding his horse to riding in a carriage. They had shared a smile when he told her the reason. It took him less time to get to Longbourn and be by Jane's side.

She stopped where she was, still out of sight of the house. She looked down at her skirts and shoes. Covered with mud. It was not an unusual event at Longbourn, but she knew that the superior sisters would take note of her appearance and draw it to everyone's attention. She hated that! They were so snide! Cruel, really. She hated their behavior for the embarrassment to herself, but even more, she hated it because it embarrassed both Jane and Mr. Bingley.

While she tried to calculate the chance of crossing the lawns and entering the house unobserved, she heard voices. ". . . so unsuitable. Did you hear what she said? To think that she will be part of our family. It is intolerable, but I cannot think of what is to be done about it."

"Nor I, Caroline, nor I. If only Mr. Darcy were here. He would know how to prevent this travesty."

Lizzy held her breath and slipped silently back, further into the protection of the shrubbery. She knew it was unladylike and rude to listen to a conversation that she was not a part of, but what she had already heard erased any thoughts of propriety she may have had. She knew it was of the most vital import for her to know the enemy.

"Oooh," Caroline muttered angrily, "how is this to be born? Mr. Darcy could, indeed, make Charles see reason where it comes to Jane Bennet. He would be able to show Charles just how inferior her connections are, how unseemly her family's behavior is. He would see in a moment that Jane is but a fortune hunter. He has saved Charles from his own folly in the past. If only he were here, he could do it again. It is most unfortunate that I am not formally engaged to him. If I were, I would be able to write to him and tell him everything that is happening."

"Of course, Caroline, that is it!" Louisa said with excitement in her voice. "You must write to Mr. Darcy. Even though you are not formally engaged, we both know that it is but a matter of time before you are. He will not think it unseemly for you to write to him, given the circumstances. When he realizes just how dire the situation is, he will come at once. I am sure of it."

"You are right, Louisa. I will write to him. We are as good as engaged, are we not? He would expect me to inform him of the situation. Come, let us return to the house before one of Jane's pathetic sisters comes to search for us."

Lizzy listened to the sisters' voices grew fainter as they walked back to the house. She waited a few more minutes before leaving her hiding place and returning to the house. She no longer cared what anyone thought of the state of her clothing. She walked along, making no effort to hide, ensuring, of course, that she entered Longbourn undetected.

"Miss Bingley!" she fumed as she stomped up the stairs to her bed chamber. "Mr. Darcy! So they have interfered with Mr. Bingley's business in the past. Well they will not interfere this time. I will not allow it."

CAROLINE CHOSE HER WORDS with care as she sat at the writing table, pen and paper before her. "Mr. Darcy must understand the gravity of the situation," she said to herself.

"He must save Charles," she whispered to herself. "He must marry me."

She sat back when she was finished and read the words that she had written. She was satisfied that when Mr. Darcy was given the facts of the situation, he would rush to her side. He would know she was his best ally. He would propose marriage.

"A MAN IS NOTHING IF HE is not in a red uniform," Lydia opined when she had first learned that Colonel Forster's Regiment was to spend the winter in Meryton. Lydia, Kitty and Mrs. Bennet, along with many of the other women in the neighborhood, were in raptures about the prospect of a town full of officers. First Mr. Bingley and now the officers. Only a few short weeks ago Mrs. Bennet had despaired of ever finding husbands for her daughters. Now there were prospects for all of them. So many officers for her to choose from.

And they did add much to the neighborhood. At last there was a sufficient number of agreeable partners for dancing and cards. The whole neighborhood was livelier.

ONCE SHE HAD TAKEN care of the matter of Mr. Darcy marrying her Anne, Lady Catherine turned her attention to the matter of her clergyman. He was perfect in everyway. Everyway but one. It was a small matter really, but Lady Catherine always paid attention to details. She had deliberately waited to tend to this matter until she was sure that he would suit in all other ways.

And he was perfect. He was a master of flattery. He made a study of always knowing what to say and when to say it. Lady Catherine suspected that he sometimes practiced his flattery before a mirror. He was grateful and obedient. He always agreed with her. He always took her advice to heart. Yes, he was perfect. Almost perfect.

Mr. Collins needed a wife. "A clergyman," Lady Catherine decided, "should set an example of domestic felicity to those in his parish." Yes, Mr. Collins needed a wife.

"Mr. Collins," she told him, "you must marry." She went on to list all of her requirements for his wife, then added. "You have said that your relative, the one from whom you will inherit your estate, has a family of five daughters. It is unfortunate that the estate was entailed away from the female line. Females are perfectly capable of managing money and property. After all, you see how well I manage. Go to your relative. Marry one of his daughters."

She really did think it positively dreadful that estates be entailed away from their rightful owners, just because the rightful owner should happen to be a woman. She shuddered to think what would have happened to her if the estate of her husband, Sir Louis deBourg, had had an entail on it. She would have been left dependant on a relative. A male relative.

MR. DARCY SAT THOUGHTFULLY after reading the letter from his aunt, Lady Catherine. It had been more a summons than a letter and had left him in no doubt as to her wishes. He was to marry his cousin, Anne. Soon! It was her favorite wish, as well as that of his own mother's. He remembered his mother speaking of her wish. He had, at times, even considered that wish.

He had found the process of picking a wife during the balls and parties of the season disheartening. Oh, the first season he had attended and even the second had held charms. Rather shy, he had quickly discovered that he was not required to lead the conversation. There were rules to speaking at social gatherings. Comforting rules. Boring rules. Boring conversations. Lovely, but boring young women. By the third season, he had given up on finding a woman who could satisfy his yearning.

When his search for love had come to naught, when he realized that he would not find his happiness at a ball or a dinner party, he had given serious thought to his mother's wishes. At the time, Anne was still too young. Now, he knew that Anne was unsuitable. If he married Anne, he would have two shy, inexperienced young women to care for. That would never do.

His depression deepened as he thought of the battle ahead. Lady Catherine would not take his rejection of her wishes quietly. But he was resolved. He would reject her demands. Later. He would deal with it later. He shoved his aunt's letter to the back of the desk drawer.

LORD CAVERSTOCK WAS RELIEVED. It had been six days since he had seen her. Six days when first unavoidable business, and then the weather, had kept them apart. He had worried after the dinner party at Rosings Park. Her mother had made it very clear to him by her manner that she did not approve of his attentions to Anne. He sighed. Anne, on the other hand, had seemed to enjoy his attentions very much. She had smiled at him and they had spoken for the first time. Nothing much. He had asked her about her rides through the countryside and she had, in return, asked about his. He had seen her interest in his conversation. Real interest. And he had been interested in her conversation. It mattered not what she had said. It was her sincerity, her interest.

"But today I have seen her," he thought. "We spoke." Remembering her smiles and her blushes warmed his heart. For the first time since his brother Edmund had died, he felt happy. For the first time since he had inherited the title of Earl, he began to think that he could please both his mother and himself. For the first time, he was glad that he was titled.

Chapter 5

THE LETTER FROM CAROLINE Bingley sat atop Mr. Darcy's desk, while he tried to formulate a plan. Taken together with the letter he had received from his friend, Mr. Bingley, the latest letter disturbed him. He recalled deciding to allow Mr. Bingley to manage his own business, but the picture that Caroline had painted for him was entirely different than the one Mr. Bingley had portrayed.

Mr. Darcy sighed. "Oh, Bingley, what have you gotten yourself into this time?" Mr. Darcy knew Caroline to be an astute observer. He trusted her judgement, especially where it concerned her own brother. He thought about that concern. That readiness to help guide Bingley. She was strong. Perhaps he should think about her in regard to his own problem.

He placed a fresh piece of paper in front of him and filled his pen from the bottle of ink. He sat poised, trying to come up with the right words to caution his friend with. Nothing came. He put the pen down and stood up to look out the window.

He thought about Georgiana. She was better, especially since her new companion had come. Mrs. Annesley. What a treasure Mrs. Annesley had proved to be! It helped to have her to guide Georgiana. Not as much as a mother or a sister would, but still, she helped.

After watching the ripples on the lake caused by the stiff breeze, he crossed back to his desk and sat down. He pulled his aunt's letter from the back of the drawer where he had shoved it and set about answering both letters. They both were answered in the same manner. He was sorry, but his business at Pemberley was not completed and until it was, he was unable to think about leaving.

CAROLINE WAITED UNTIL THE gentlemen had left the breakfast room to prepare for their morning of hunting. She turned to her sister as the door latched shut.

"I have an idea, Louisa," she said. "A way to gather information about the Bennets, so that when Mr. Darcy comes, we will be able to cite him chapter and verse all the evils of the match between Charles and Miss Goody-goody Jane."

"Go on," Louisa said as she poured herself another cup of tea at the side board.

"Charles and Mr. Hurst are dining with the officers tonight," Caroline began.

"Yes, and . . . what?" Louisa asked.

"Yes, well, we shall invite the Devine Miss Jane to dine with us," Caroline continued.

"And we pump her for information," Louisa finished. "Very good, Caroline."

"The little ninny is so artless. I am sure that she will answer any questions we put forth. We will know any and every unfortunate connection that she possesses. We will know every frightening detail of her life."

"Very, very good, Caroline," Louisa laughed. "Indeed, it is an excellent plan."

"YOU HAVE BEEN INVITED TO dine at Netherfield this evening, Jane," Mrs. Bennet squealed as she snatched the note Jane had received from Caroline out of her hand. "La-de-dah, la-de-dah, la-de-dah . . . . as the gentlemen are to dine with the officers. Oh, that is unfortunate! But you must go and make of it what you can."

Jane turned to her father to ask for the carriage, but before he could answer, Mrs. Bennet interrupted.

"You must go on Nellie for it looks like rain and they will have to ask you to stay the night," she said.

"Mother," Jane gasped.

"Well, would you go all the way to Netherfield and not see Mr. Bingley? Indeed, you will not."

Mr. Bennet rolled his eyes, but chose not to interfere. In truth, he was very fond of Mr. Bingley and hoped that there would soon be an engagement to announce. It was not the fact that Mr. Bingley had money, well not entirely. No, Mr. Bingley and Jane seemed to truly be in love with each other. Besides, he reasoned that a little rain never had killed anyone. He rolled his eyes and excused himself to go read in his library.

LORD CAVERSTOCK LOOKED FORWARD TO seeing Anne that evening. Lady Medcalf was having a dinner party and had assured his mother that Lady Catherine had accepted the invitation. He sighed. He knew his mother would have preferred him to marry someone with a more pleasant mother.

It could not be helped. Lord Caverstock had not intended to fall in love with Anne deBourg, but he had. Every time he saw her, his feelings grew. He lived each day for the few moments that he saw her out on the lanes surrounding Rosings Park.

Mrs. Jenkinson. He had worried that she would inform Lady Catherine about their meetings and the meetings would stop. Each time he saw her after their introduction at Rosings Park, he worried there would not be another. He now knew that Mrs. Jenkinson's allegience was to the daughter and not the mother. The previous day the weather had been fine and the ground dry. Mrs. Jenkinson had stopped in a secluded part of the drive. Anne was standing next to the gig when he rode up. As if in a dream, he dismounted and greeted her. She had told him she felt the need to stretch her legs so he offered his arm to her and they took a walk. It was short. Too short! Too little time to begin to say what he wanted to say to Anne. Mrs. Jenkinson had smiled kindly at them when they returned to the gig. A friend and ally.

He closed his eyes and thought of Anne. Anne. He never would have looked her way had he met her at a ball or a party. No, he would not have noticed her among all the other young ladies. He had not really noticed her the first time they passed in the lane. She was pale and thin and shy. Very shy. He shuddered to think of what he might have missed.

LIZZY WAS SUSPICIOUS OF Caroline and Louisa's motives for inviting Jane to Netherfield. Lizzy was worried. She tried to warn Jane about her suspicions and what she had overheard, but Jane was sure that there was an innocent explanation to their words.

"You must have heard them wrong, or misunderstood what they were saying," Jane said when Lizzy tried to warn her. "I cannot believe that their manners could hide such meanness. I am sure that when you get to know them better, you will like them."

"Jane, you are too good," Lizzy replied. "You are truly angelic. You will not believe anything ill about anybody. All I ask is that you take care."

"I promise you, Lizzy, that I will take care and all will be well."

Lizzy looked at her sister and sighed. She was frustrated. On one hand was their mother, whom Lizzy was sure would do anything in her power to push forward a match between Jane and Mr. Bingley. On the other hand were Mr. Bingley's sisters, whom Lizzy knew to be insincere harpies looking for a wedge to drive between the two. In the middle was Jane. Lovely, unsuspecting Jane. Beautiful Jane! Everyone thought that they could manipulate her for their own purposes. And there was nothing Lizzy could think of to do that would protect Jane. Sometimes Lizzy wished that Jane was not quite so good.

"Lizzy, do not look at me like that!" Jane cried, when she saw the look on Lizzy's face. "I will take care."

Lizzy wished she could believe it.

Chapter 6

Posted on Tuesday, 15 May 2001, at 2:48 p.m.

CAROLINE WAS READY TO scream. All of her carefully laid plans had gone awry. Well, most of them anyway. The smells emanating from the kitchen when she had gone to tell Mrs. Willits, the housekeeper, that the gentlemen would be dining in that evening instead of with the officers, well, quite frankly, the smells were delectable. The food would be wonderful. Everything else was spinning out of control.

The first inkling that something might go wrong was the message that Charles received from Colonel Forster. Caroline knew of the note because she happened to look out the window of her bed chamber and had seen the red coat of the young soldier who had delivered the note as he was riding away. Hurring downstairs to investigate, she found Charles in the library reading.

"Charles," Caroline demanded, "what was that soldier doing here?"

"It seems that the dinner with the officers must be postponed," Charles answered.

"Postponed? But why?" Caroline responded. "Oh, this is most inconvenient." Had she any warning about the news, she might have answered more calmly.

"It seems that the colonel and several of the other officers have been stricken with some kind of ailment." Mr. Bingley paused and looked closely at his sister. "But tell me Caroline, why is it most inconvenient? Do you have plans?"

Caroline hesitated before speaking. "Louisa and I have invited a guest for dinner. It was to be a small affair so that we could really get to know her."

Mr. Bingley was pleased. "Oh, Caroline, I am glad you are making friends here in Hertfordshire. I promise you, Hurst and I will behave and not embarrass you too much. Who is this friend that is coming?"

Caroline was trapped and she knew it. It was too late to rescind the invitation. The hour was already too advanced and in any case, she knew her brother would not be satisfied until she told him the identity of the guest. She was trapped. She had made things worse than they already were. An intimate family dinner with only one guest.

"Miss Jane Bennet," Caroline said, trying desperately to hide her true feelings.

"Caroline, you are a wonderful sister," Charles cried with happiness. "You are trying to get to know Miss Bennet better for my sake. How could I have ever doubted you? I should have known that once you were used to this neighborhood you would grow to love it as much as I do."

"And now Miss Jane the Perfect Angel sits in the drawing room on a chair placed before the fireplace," Caroline thought with fury. "Not too near and not too far." She was disgusted with Charles solicitude. "He is acting as if she were a delicate hothouse flower instead of hardy country weed. She got a little wet on her ride from Longbourn to Netherfield. That happens when you ride a horse in the rain, stupid girl! What was she thinking?!"

Caroline narrowed her eyes as she looked across the room at them. She was displeased. Yes, seriously displeased. The relative privacy that they sat in was not to be born. Even with great effort, she could not hear what they were speaking of. She stood and walked toward them.

"Jane," she said with as much charm as she could muster, "I do hope you are feeling warmer."

"Thank-you, Caroline," Jane replied. "Yes, I am feeling quite comfortable. Please, do not delay dinner any longer on my account."

Charles beamed at Jane.

"I am most relieved to hear that you have recovered," Caroline said. "I shall just go let them know we are ready to proceed."

Forced to leave them alone again, Caroline seethed as she waited for Focett to respond to her ring. "I am displeased. Seriously displeased!" she muttered to herself.

LORD CAVERSTOCK WATCHED as Lady Catherine dominated the conversation. It amused him to watch her clergyman agree with and flatter her. Without thinking, he began to smile.

"What are you smiling about, my Lord?" Lady Catherine demanded sharply.

"I am so pleased to be in such superior society, Lady Catherine," he replied smoothly. "I spent the last nine years in the army and I do not think I ever heard so many sound ideas from one person in all that time. Such superiority of mind, such elegance of manners. Your Ladyship is the perfect embodiment of what I fought to protect all these years."

He could tell that she was pleased by his flattery. He felt clever. He was clever! She wanted to feel superior. She wanted to feel intelligent. She wanted to be flattered.

He snuck a look at Anne when Lady Catherine was busy telling Mr. Collins how to conduct services properly the next Sunday. The look on her face was priceless. From her smile he knew she could tell exactly what he was about. They almost began to laugh. It was almost as if they could read each other's thoughts. Had Lady Catherine seen their exchange she would have become irate. She would have known for sure. Fortunately, Mr. Collins was in great need of instruction.

Mrs. Jenkinson looked on with happiness. "Little Anne," she thought with love for her young charge. Mrs. Jenkinson stayed with Anne, put up with all of Lady Catherine's rages and opinions for Anne. She loved Anne like the daughter she had never had.

MR. COLLINS HAD GOOD NEWS for Lady Catherine that evening. "I took your most excellent advice," Mr. Collins said. "I wrote to my cousin, Mr. Bennet and I have just received a reply. I am to go to Hertfordshire Monday next. As you most condesendingly suggested, Your Ladyship, I contacted Mr. Shipps and he has graciously agreed to tend to my duties while I am away. You will be gratified to know that he was most pleased when I had mentioned your kind recommendation of him. He looks forward to the opportunity to be of service to you."

A wife. The idea both excited and frightened Mr. Collins. He had had little experience with proper young women. Through one of his acquaintances who was a curate in Hertfordshire, he had been able to ascertain that his cousin, Mr. Daniel Bennet, was father to five fine girls. His acquaintance, Mr. Osborne, had even met them and had pronounced them to be quite charming and beautiful. His cousins, charming and beautiful. Well mannered, too, Mr. Osborne had written. He could not believe his luck. To have his pick of five beautiful, well-mannered, charming girls. It set his blood to racing. What other clergyman of his acquaintance could boast such a thing?

He could hear their gratitude. He could see them vying for his attention. He felt almost faint with anticipation. He wondered how long an engagement would be proper. Not too long, he hoped. It was sad that he had to make a choice. Sad that he was limited to only one wife. The other four would be disappointed, but it could not be helped.

He felt his luck. He was priviledged to be the clergyman of such an illustrious personage as Lady Catherine, who in her infinite wisdom, had suggested the fine plan of choosing one of his beautiful cousins to marry.

Chapter

Posted on Friday, 18 May 2001, at 2:09 p.m.

Please do not post. Thanks to everyone who has given me encouragement and feed-back. It really helps. I woke this morning with a nasty cold and am feeling rotten, but my three days are up and I did not wish anyone to think that I shunned them. Although I already had this written, I usually do a final edit right before I post. If any glaring errors sneak through today, I will gladly use the excuse of my cold.

LADY CATHERINE WAS SERIOUSLY displeased. Oh, the dinner party the evening before had gone well. Far better than she had imagined when she arrived and discovered Lord Caverstock there. His most proper and gratifying behavior towards her had made her forget her chagrin at him for smiling at Anne. She learned that she was wrong. Lord Caverstock was not a threat. He was a gentleman who respected her opinions. A gentleman who would know better than to think of Anne when Anne was promised to another. But perhaps, just perhaps, she could use the threat of Lord Caverstock's interest in Anne to bring Mr. Darcy to his senses.

"No," Lady Catherine vowed, "I will not let Lord Caverstock's smile go to waste."

Lady Catherine was seriously displeased with Mr. Darcy. Yes, seriously displeased with the letter she had received from Pemberley the morning following Lady Medcalf's dinner party. The letter from her nephew, Mr. Darcy. Mr. Darcy, Master of Pemberley. Mr. Darcy, who was to marry her Anne. Mr. Darcy, who said in his letter that he had something more important to tend to than his obligation to Anne. Something more important than his destiny. How dare he deny her?

She proceeded to write him another letter. One in which she spelled out explicitly what she expected of him. She told him about Lord Caverstock and the danger to Anne. She told him the way she had caught Lord Caverstock looking at Anne when they were together. She told him the way that Anne had looked back at Lord Caverstock and smiled. He had smiled. Lady Catherine told him of her fear. It could not be born! It would not be born!

She re-read the letter when she was through. She smiled. She smiled and was satisfied.

"Yes," she told herself smugly, "let my nephew think that there is danger to his mother's dearest wishes. He cannot deny his own mother's dying wish."

JANE WOKE EARLY, DESPITE the difficulty she had experienced sleeping under the same roof with Mr. Bingley. Every time she had tried to sleep her imagination had begun to run wild. She could not help herself. He had been so kind, so concerned about her health. He had fussed that she had gotten wet as she rode Nellie in the rain.

"Just a drizzle really," she had assured him. "A little rain never hurt anyone." She had really only gotten damp. Only a little damp. But still he had worried.

"Miss Bennet, I cannot think what I would do if something happened to you." He had looked at her with so much love, so much passion that he had taken her breath away and set her heart to racing.

All night long, every time she tried to make herself sleep, the vision of his face as he said those words came back to her. She had tossed. She had turned. She had hugged her pillow and pretended that the pillow was Charles. She had whispered his name. Charles. Charles. Charles.

She rang for a maid to help her dress for the day and when she was finished, descended to the breakfast room only to discover that she was so early that food had yet to be set out on the side board.

"Excuse me Miss," one of the footman said as she entered the room. "If you wish, I shall fetch tea and toast for you."

"Thank-you, that would be lovely," Jane replied with a sweet smile gracing her face. The servant looked at her with surprise. He was not used to the ladies of the house speaking so kindly or treating him like a real person. He bowed and went to get her food.

She stood, looking out of the window at the mist rising where the morning sun hit the grass wet by the previous evening's rain. She turned in hopeful expectation as she heard foot steps clattering down the stairway.

"Good morning, Miss Bennet," Mr. Bingley cried with delight as he entered the room and saw her standing there. "I hope you slept well."

Jane blushed. "Good morning, Mr. Bingley. I am feeling completely rested this morning, thank-you."

"We are the early birds," he said as he noticed the lack of food.

"Your footman is bringing tea and toast."

Mr. Bingley smiled at Jane, thankful for their solitude, thankful that his sisters and brother-in-law would not make their presence known for an hour or more. Taking a deep breath, he began.

"Capitol, capitol. Miss Bennet, perhaps this is not the best time or place, but . . I . . ah . . . Miss Bennet . . ah . . Jane, I can . . ah . um . go no longer without confessing my feelings to you. From the first time I saw you, even before we met, I believed you to be an angel. Since we have become acquainted, I have had to change my opinion. You are still an angel, but now I have come to know you as a woman. A beautiful, kind, lovely woman. Jane, I cannot imagine my future without you by my side. It would be the greatest honor, I would feel the richest man in the world, if you would agree to be my wife. Jane, will you marry me?"

Jane was rendered speechless. It was her fondest wish to hear his proposal and she was so moved by his words, by the love he expressed that she herself had lost the capacity of speech. Mr. Bingley would have felt alarm were it not for her smile He had taken hold of her hands and she clung to him. After several long moments, she managed to whisper her answer.

"Yes!"

He saw her lips move and her head nod slightly.

"Yes!" she whispered again.

"Yes!" she said louder and would have answered again and again had not Mr. Bingley embraced her and lowered his lips to brush hers lightly.

The footman opened the door, saw Jane and Mr. Bingley embracing and quickly closed the door again. He sat the tray on the table next to the door and stood guard. He smiled. "Lovely young woman, the next Mrs. Bingley," he though. "Very polite. It will be a different sort of household. Much calmer and happier."

CAROLINE WAS LIVID, BUT after her initial shock she carefully schooled her expression to show only pleasure at the idea of Jane as her new sister.

"It is no more than I was expecting," she though angrily, an insincere smile pasted to her face. "It just came sooner than I had thought. There must be something that Mr. Darcy can do to get Charles to face the reality of his situation and help him get out of it. He has helped him out of dire situations before. He must do something!"

Her smile lasted only until the carriage door closed on Jane to take her back to Longbourn. She watched as Charles stood waving at Jane until the carriage passed out of view. Charles, instead of returning to the house as she expected him to, walked quickly in the direction of the stables.

"I suppose," she sighed with frustration, "he will follow her to Longbourn and ask that fool father of hers for her hand."

She hurried up the stairs to her bedchamber and went directly to her writing table. She reached for writing paper and began writing quickly.

"There," she said to herself after she had finished. "Mr. Darcy cannot fail to understand the emergency that has occurred her today. Surely he will come as soon as may be."

"SHE LAUGHED. SHE ACTUALLY LAUGHED," Mr. Darcy said to Mrs. Annesley as they watched Georgiana with Minnie, his half-grown hound.

It was the first time since Ramsgate that Georgiana had played like the child she still was. She threw a stick for Minnie and Minnie had returned it, but refused to let go of it. The two then had a tug of war, neither side willing to let go, or so Georgiana had thought. Suddenly Minnie let go of the stick just as Georgiana had dug her heels in, ready to pull with all her might. Georgiana went head-over-heels backwards and Minnie pounced on her and began licking her face.

"She will be well," Mrs. Annesley said kindly. "Everyday she gets a little stronger. Everyday her pain recedes a little more. Her progress is slow, but it is steady. She will recover."

Mr. Darcy watched as she continued to play. "I will do whatever it takes to ensure that she will recover," he told himself. "Anything."

Chapter 8

Posted on Monday, 21 May 2001, at 12:27 a.m.

MRS. BENNET WAS MOST UPSET to see Jane transported home in Mr. Bingley's carriage so soon.

"You should have stayed longer, Jane," she insisted as soon as Jane was in the house. "Why, we have been finished with breakfast for less than an hour. Surely you could have thought of some excuse to stay."

"Mama, I was invited to dine yesterday evening, not to stay the night," Jane replied. "It was very kind of Miss Bingley to invite me to stay. I felt it only right that I return home at the earliest opportunity this morning. I could easily have returned last evening."

"Yes, Jane, but how are you to get Mr. Bingley to propose marriage to you if you do not take advantage of the opportunity presented to you. You should have thought of some reason to stay." Mrs. Bennet paused while she pondered the situation. "Why, you could have taken a chill. I am sure you must have been soaked through to the skin by the time you arrived. Were you not?"

"No, Mama, I was damp, but not soaked to the skin," Jane countered, fighting to hide the smiles that threatened to split her face. "I do admit that I was cold when I arrived, but Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst found dry clothes for me and a short while in front of a fire had me feeling as good as new."

Mrs. Bennet would have continued to scold Jane had not Mr. Bingley arrived to speak to Mr. Bennet. His arrival changed everything. He was shown into the library directly. Mrs. Bennet knew at once what that must mean. She was in raptures. She was thrilled. Everything was just has she had planned it. She knew that Jane had not been born so beautiful for nothing! Jane was very definitely her favorite daughter. It had always been so. How could it be doubted?

MR. BENNET WAS ENJOYING himself immensely. He had known that Mr. Bingley's visit was coming. He had been expecting it, especially after Jane had been manipulated by her mother into spending the night at Netherfield. He had never seen a young man so visibly in love. And there stood Mr. Bingley in his own library. His retreat from the world. The one place where he was king. Mr. Bennet looked thoughtfully across his desk to where the younger man stood shifting slightly from one foot to the other.

"Please, Mr. Bingley, take a seat," Mr. Bennet offered. He had momentarily had the desire to tease the young man, but thought better of it.

"Thank-you, Sir, thank-you," Mr. Bingley said as he lowered himself into a chair. "I . . I um . . Mr. Bennet . ."

"May I offer you some refreshment? A cup of tea perhaps? A little brandy?" Mr. Bennet said kindly.

"No, I need to say something, or rather ask something of you first," Mr. Bingley blurted out.

"Ask something of me?" Mr. Bennet replied.

Mr. Bingley sat up straight in the chair, drew in a deep breath and began. "Yes, Sir, I need to ask something of you. I need to ask . . . ask, um, ask for your daughter's hand in marriage. Your daughter Jane, that is, I wish to marry Jane. There I have said it."

"I take it that she is aware of your wishes?" Mr. Bennet asked.

"Oh, yes, I asked her this morning and she very much wishes to be my wife." Mr. Bingley smiled widely at the remembrance of her acceptance and their embraces following it.

"Very good, Mr. Bingley," Mr. Bennet said seriously. "There is only one thing more that I wish to know. What took you so long?"

Mr. Bingley, unused to Mr. Bennet's sense of humor, was taken aback by the question. "What took me so long, Sir? Why I have been in Hertfordshire little more than a month. I did not think that you would approve of my asking you any sooner."

Mr. Bennet laughed. "You are probably correct. I just might have said no. You did wish to ask, however, did you not?"

"Oh, yes, I did wish to ask," Mr. Bingley replied, laughing. "Ah, do I take it then that we have your approval?"

"Did I forget to say yes?" Mr. Bennet asked as he watched Mr. Bingley nod his head. "Yes, you have my approval. You are a lucky man to have won the love of my Jane. She shall make you very happy, I dare say, and I trust that you are prepared to do all in your power to make her happy."

LIZZY BREATHED A SIGH of relief when she realized what her father had just announced to the gathered family.

"Mr. Bingley has acted in a manner which will ensure his own happiness," she thought with glee as she watched her mother gush and her sister blush. "His sister and Mr. Darcy too late. They are too late. Jane shall have her happiness."

MR. COLLINS HUMMED AN off-key tune as he packed his trunks in preparation for his trip into Hertfordshire to find a wife. He glanced over at his bed. He shook his head to remind himself that such thoughts as popped into his head were unseemly for a clergyman of his standing.

"Lady Catherine would not approve such thoughts," he muttered aloud. "No, indeed she would not. Better not to have such thoughts."

He glanced at the bed again and sighed. He decided that there were some thoughts that he would try to keep secret from Lady Catherine, although he knew that it would be a difficult task. Lady Catherine was wise and all-knowing. She had only his best interests at heart. Better to try really hard not to have such thoughts. He sighed again after sneaking a look at the bed.

"Perhaps she will not ask," he said hopefully. "No, she probably will not ask."

He looked at his overflowing trunk, trying to determine how he was going to close it and if he had packed it properly according to Lady Catherine's instructions. He was certain that she would ask about that. He decided that it might be a good thing to take the top layer off just to be sure everything was packed properly. Then he folded over another layer so that he could inspect the layer below that. He saw his night shirt and looked at the bed again. He turned back to the trunk and took another layer out, then another. Soon the trunk was empty and the pile of clothing was tumbling off of the chair that he had placed it on.

He bent down to pick up the items that had fallen and began to place them in his trunk again. He took extra care to make sure that everything was placed just so. He only glanced at the bed two more times before he was finished. Well, in all truth, it had been three times, but the third glance was so quick that he decided not to count it. He closed the lid and left the room, telling his manservant, Wellbourne, that his trunk was ready to be taken down. Best to leave the place that excited such improper thoughts.

Wellborne looked at him in confusion. "I thought you were to be going in three days time, Sir," he said.

"Yes, yes, but you know Lady Catherine will ask if I have prepared myself to leave and I wish to be able to tell her yes. One can never be too prepared."

Chapter 9

Posted on Thursday, 24 May 2001, at 10:51 a.m.

MR. DARCY SAT AT HIS DESK and looked at the two letters that had arrived earlier that morning. Both had been sent by express, arriving within an hour of each other. He had read and re-read both of them: one from Kent, one from Hertfordshire.

He sighed, knowing that he would have to leave the sanctuary of Pemberley to face the lions. Or lionesses, as it were.

"First," he thought, "first I must go to Kent and settle matters with Lady Catherine before I attempt to settle my own affairs."

He had taken some comfort from his aunt's missive, although that had not been Lady Catherine's purpose. No, the purpose of her letter had been to alarm him, to make him jealous, instead it had come as a relief to know that his cousin Anne had an admirer. He truly hoped that what Lady Catherine had feared was true. It would ease his conscience if it were.

He knew that his mother had wished for a match between Anne and himself, had hoped that he would fall in love with his cousin, but it had not happened. He loved his cousin as a cousin, not as a woman. It might have been enough were it not for Georgiana's needs, but his duty to his sister must take precidence over everything else. Nothing mattered except Geogiana. Not his own desires, his mother's wishes, his aunt's wishes. Nothing.

When he was finished answering Lady Catherine's letter informing her of his plans to travel immediately to Kent, he turned his attention to the other letter.

"Miss Bingley," he thought, "Caroline".

He felt some uneasiness as he thought of the author of the letter. She was a strong woman. A woman who was trying to protect her brother from an unfortunate match. A woman who had already exhibited strong feelings of sisterhood for Georgiana. He thought back to the times that Caroline and Georgiana had met. Caroline had always been very solicitous, had shown a great deal of regard for Georgiana. Caroline never failed to ask after Georgiana's health and well-being. Here was a woman with the strength to protect Georgiana the same way she was trying to protect her own brother. That he did not love her was not the issue. He admired her strength. Perhaps someday he would grow to love her.

He knew he had let Mr. Bingley down. Let Miss Bingley, Caroline down. His own concerns had made him ignore her plea of help.

"Bingley, what have you gotten yourself into. Engaged. To someone that your sister abhors. To someone with a mother who takes great delight in counting your money. Publicly. It sounds worse than all of your other flirtations combined."

He gave himself a little shake and began to write to his friend, informing Mr. Bingley of his visit. He would go to Hertfordshire as soon as he was finished in Kent. He knew it was probably too late to interfere with the engagement that had already taken place, but he would go and assess the situation. If anything could be done, he would do it. If not, he would at least be able to forward his plans for marrying Caroline. At the very least.

He called for a footman to take his letters to the post, then found his valet and asked him to begin packing. He planned to leave the following morning.

BREAKFAST AT LONGBOURN THAT morning ended with an uproar.

Mr. Bennet had started it by saying, "I hope you have something special planned for supper this evening for we will be having a guest."

"Why I was already counting on Mr. Bingley staying to dine tonight," Mrs. Bennet replied, "just has he has every night since he and Jane became engaged."

Mr. Bennet looked at his wife with amusement. "No, it is not Mr. Bingley, my dear. It is someone that I have never set eyes on in my entire life. I have received a letter from my cousin, Mr. Collins, who will inherit Longbourn after I die. He is coming this afternoon and has plans to stay for a sennight. What do you say to that?"

"Oh, I hate the thought of that man," Mrs. Bennet cried. "Whyever did you agree to let him come stay? It is enough that he is to take possession of an estate that is not rightfully his. He probably wants to count the silver and see if he can determine how much longer you will live."

"Let me read the letter to you. You may change your mind after you hear what he has to say for himself."

Mr. Bennet read Mr. Collins's letter out to his wife and daughters. There could be no mistaking his motive for visiting them. He planned to marry one of his cousins. He felt remorse for inheriting Longbourn away from them and was willing to make amends with the offer of marriage.

Mrs. Bennet interrupted the reading of the letter. "Can it be true? Can he be planning marry one of our girls?" The man, who only moments before had been her mortal enemy, now became her dearest acquaintance. Or he would be once she had met him.

"Yes, Mrs. Bennet," Mr. Bennet assurred her, "that is what he seems to be saying in this letter." He waited while Mrs. Bennet described her happiness. After he had heard enough of her raptures, he broke in. "Pray let me continue." The remainder of the letter dealt with the time of his arrival, his length of stay, Lady Catherine's instructions for his dietary needs, excercise needs and matrimonial needs.

"But Papa," Lizzy said when he had at last finished. "Can he be a sensible man?"

"Oh, Lizzy," her father replied, choking back his laughter, "I think not. I hope not! No, I believe that he will keep us very well entertained during his stay."

LORD CAVERSTOCK LOOKED DOWN at Anne and knew that the time had come for him to speak what was in his heart. Their walks had continued every day that the weather permitted. Each day they had grown more comfortable in each other's presence. Each day they had shared their thoughts a little more freely. He had been amazed to discover that lurking beneath her shy exterior, Anne had a quick mind and a wry sense of humor. She had begun writing him quirky little poems that she delivered to him each time they parted. They were not love poems. Not even close. She was far too shy to write him love poems. But the poems were given to him as gifts and as such, gave him hope for their future, gave him the courage to think about asking her to marry him.

He drew himself up a little straighter, took a deep breath and began.

"Miss deBourgh, I . . . ah . . . .you . . . " He paused, desperately searching for the words to convey his feelings to her.

She looked up and smiled to encourage him. "Yes, my Lord?"

He stopped walking as he tried to remember the words that he had practiced earlier. The words had been perfect. Words of love and honour. He thought that he had them memorized. His memory failed him. She waited patiently.

"My, my name is Jeffrey," he managed to choke out. He was embarrassed at his inability to think or speak. He looked at her face and saw her smile.

Her smile was radiant. The most beautiful smile he had ever seen. "Jeffrey," she said softly. "My name is Anne."

"Anne, yes, . . I knew that . . what I mean is . . . " He paused, completely speechless. She waited for him to begin. And waited. And waited.

"I love you, Jeffrey," she whispered when she realized he was unable to speak. "I love you and if you ask me, I will marry you."

He stook looking at her, his mouth agape. He was stunned. Too stunned to move or think or speak. Where was the shy Anne now?

"Well?" Anne asked softly after waiting for several minutes.

"Ye..yes," he stammered.

"Yes?" she asked gently, still encouraging him.

"Yes, you love me and will marry me," he said as he caught his breath again.

"And you?" Anne asked.

He looked confused for a moment, then he realized what she had done. What she had said. "And me? You? You . . . you are my dearest, sweetest Anne. I love you! You are to be my wife."

MR. COLLINS WATCHED OUT THE WINDOW of the post chaise as the miles rolled by.

"Soon," he thought, "very soon I will see my wife."

Lady Catherine had given him all of the guidelines he needed for choosing amongst his cousins. First he must be mindful of rank. All other things being equal, he must choose the eldest. That is, if she was the most virtuous, practical, hard-working, polite, modest one of her sisters. Lady Catherine had not mentioned beauty, but Mr. Collins was confident. He had heard that all of his cousins possessed beauty. He decided that the eldest must be the most beautiful. He reasoned that it would be similar to inheriting property. It was the eldest who won out. So, he felt confident that he would soon be marrying the eldest.

He reflected on his position. Spiritual advisor to Lady Catherine deBourgh. Inheritor of Longbourn. His cousins were likely to vie for his favour. He must be careful not to let their attentions distract him from his mission. He must find a wife to please Lady Catherine.

"Was there ever so lucky a man? I am, without a doubt, the luckiest man in England," he thought. "Lady Catherine and five beautiful cousins to choose from."

Chapter 10

Posted on Monday, 28 May 2001, at 3:02 p.m.

CAROLINE BINGLEY SCOWLED as her sister spoke. She fingered the braided trim on the arm rest of the chair that she was sitting in.

"Mr. Darcy surely will not ignore the express that you sent him," Lousia assured her. "He is Charles closest friend. He will come. I am sure of it."

Caroline sighed. "I just hope he doesn't bring his insipid little sister with him. I know it is her fault that he failed to come to Netherfield with us to begin with. Oh, I hate the thought of her!"

"You must be very careful not to let Mr. Darcy know that," Louisa cautioned. "Very careful, at least until after you are betrothed. Even then, perhaps you should wait until you have him secured with marriage vows before you have her sent away. Then, it would only be natural for you to wish to be alone with your new husband."

Caroline stood and crossed the room to admire herself in the mirror hanging on the wall. She drew herself up as straight as she could and was satisfied with what she saw - a tall, slim elegant figure dressed in the latest fashion, hair and jewelry perfect.

WILCOX, THE VENERABLE OLD butler of Rosings Park, entered the drawing room to announce Lord Caverstock to Lady Catherine. When she had read the name on the card that Wilcox presented to her, she asked that he be shown in.

As soon as Lord Caverstock entered the room, his eyes sought out Anne. He smiled as he found her. Lady Catherine saw him smile. She saw Anne smile in return. She knew in an instant what had happened. She was shocked. She was appalled. She flew into a rage and turned to Wilcox.

"Send him away," she cried. "Tell him he is not welcome here."

Anne took a step toward her mother. "Why do you send him away, Mama? Whatever is wrong?"

Lady Catherine looked at her with narrowed eyes. "I think you know, do you not? I saw you smile at him," Lady Catherine snapped.

"Yes, you did see me smile," Anne replied, smiling widely again.

"Mrs. Jenkinson, take Anne to her room," Lady Catherine commanded when she saw Anne's smile.

"I am not going to my room, Mama. I wish to see Lord Caverstock," Anne insisted.

"Mrs. Jenkinson . . . . " Lady Catherine growled out.

"Lady Catherine, with all due respect, exactly how do you wish me to take Anne to her room?" Mrs. Jenkinson answered carefully. "I am not sure that I can carry her anymore. It has been above eight or nine years since I have even tried."

"Take her to her room, I say," Lady Catherine shouted. "I care not how you do it."

Mrs. Jenkinson stood her ground.

Lord Caverstock watched the interchange between Anne and her mother. He tried to stay calm. He took a deep breath and approached Lady Catherine.

"Good morning, Lady Catherine," he said as he bowed to her.

"I told you to send him away," Lady Catherine screamed at Wilcox.

Several footmen entered the drawing room at the sound of Lady Catherine's raised voice. Anne crossed the room and stood close by Lord Caverstock's side.

Lady Catherine gave a large shudder. Anne was standing up to her. Mrs. Jenkinson was standing up to her. Lord Caverstock was standing up to her. It was a new and maddening situation for her. She stared. She sputtered.

"Mama, Jeffrey and I are to be married," Anne said.

Lady Catherine stared, speechless for several long moments. She took a large, ragged breath. "Jeffrey! You! Married! Impossible! I forbid it!" she spat out.

"Lady Catherine," Lord Caverstock said, as evenly as he could manage, "Anne is one and twenty. She no longer needs your permission, but she would like your blessing."

Lady Catherine sniffed and turned to Anne. "Your cousin Darcy is on his way here, even as we speak. You are engaged to him. You will marry him. I will brook no disagreement." Lady Catherine turned to Mrs. Jenkinson.

"Take Anne to her room and lock the door," she repeated.

Mrs. Jenkinson made no move toward Anne.

Anne looked at her mother sadly. "No, Mama, I will not go to my room. I am not engaged to my cousin. I am old enough to choose whom I am to marry and I have chosen Jeffrey. If I must, I will leave Rosings Park forever, but I will not change my mind."

Lady Catherine looked at Anne, she looked at Lord Caverstock, she looked at Mrs. Jenkinson. She waved Wilcox and the footmen off. She looked at Lord Caverstock again before turning her attention to Anne.

"You would not dare marry him," she snarled at her daughter.

"I must, Mama," Anne replied. "My cousin does not love me. Not as a woman. He has never shown me any special consideration. He treats me the same as he treats his sister."

"What does love have to do with it?" Lady Catherine asked, enraged at her daughter's words.

"Everything, Mama. Everything! I will not marry without love. I do not love my cousin Darcy and I do love Jeffrey."

She sniffed. "Your cousin Darcy will be heartbroken. You may not break your engagement to him. He will be angry. He is expecting to marry you. You know that he considers himself betrothed to you. He is on his way even now, thinking that you will be his wife. It is all settled and agreed upon. You know it was my sister Anne's fondest wish for the two of you to marry. She wished it as she lay dying. I named you after my sister. I hope you know that you will be disappointing the entire family." She turned her attention to Lord Caverstock, narrowing her eyes as she looked at him.

"You are but a third son," she said in accusation.

"Now I am the only son. I am the Earl," he reminded her. "Anne will have a title. My income, if anything, is greater than that of Mr. Darcy. Anne will want for nothing."

Lady Catherine looked at him with disdain. "You would take my daughter away without my permission?"

"I am sorry, Lady Catherine," Lord Caverstock replied, "but, yes, I will, if it becomes necessary. She no longer needs your permission."

THE BAROUCH BOX WAS TILTED at an impossible angle, tipping Mrs. Annesley, Georgiana and Mr. Darcy together in an uncomfortable tangle of arms and legs. The driver and footmen strained to push it up enough so that the three could climb out. Mr. Darcy sighed with resignation. He had not wanted to embark on the journey to Kent. He was only doing so at the insistence of his aunt. Now he was jumbled together with his sister and her companion while they waited to be rescued. The road, normally a good road, had been rutted from a recent rain storm. Nearly half-way between Pemberley and London, the rear axle had broken after hitting a particularly large rut and the carriage was tilted crazily, half on its side.

"I think we got it, sir," Waverly, the driver said as the carriage was righted. "Just a tic and ye can climb down."

After everyone disembarked the carriage and it was determined that other than a few lumps and bumps no one was injured, one of the footmen set off toward the closest town on horseback. He returned, in due course, with a hired conveyance to take the stranded travellers on to the inn.

"We should have stayed home," Mr. Darcy grumbled, as the hired carriage carried them toward the inn. "We should have stayed home!"

MR. COLLINS WAS ANNOYED. He had arrived at Longbourn expecting to have five beautiful cousins to choose between and he had immediately discovered that the most beautiful of all, the eldest, Jane, was already engaged to be married. Married to a gentleman of large fortune. It was not fair. He wished that he had Lady Catherine nearby to give him advice.

"She was to be my wife," Mr. Collins mumbled to himself as he was dressing the next morning. "I had already decided to marry the eldest. I knew she was the most beautiful and I was right. By all rights, she should be engaged to me."

He had been in such high dudgeon that he had hardly looked at his other cousins. Well, he had looked at them and he had to admit, several of them were just as charming as was the eldest, in their own ways. Though Jane had a truly beautiful face, both the second one and the youngest one had very charming figures, perhaps even more charming than the eldest. Certainly more to charm with. The thought of their figures made him glance back at his bed. Such dreams! So hard to decide between them. Such a shame that he must decide.

"Really only a choice between two," he grumbled. "It should have been five."

He was pleased to find his youngest cousin alone in the dining room. He helped himself to a cup of tea and a large plateful of food from the side board, then sat down next to her, gazing at her gown with appreciation. Or, if not her gown, what her gown failed to cover up.

"That is Kitty's chair," Lydia told him between mouthfuls.

"Kitty?" he thought. "Which one is Kitty?" He tried to remember, but failed. "Perhaps if she is the second eldest, we could share the chair." His lips curled up in a grin at the thought.

Lizzy was the next to enter the dining room.

"Good morning, Lizzy," Lydia said. At least that is what she intended to say. Mr. Collins could not make out her words for her speech was rather muffled by the food that she had just put in her mouth.

"Good morning, my dear Cousin Kitty," Mr. Collins said. At least that is what he intended to say. Lizzy could not make out his words for his speech was rather muffled by the food that he had just put into his mouth.

He jumped up, ever the gentleman. He swallowed.

"Allow me to move out of your place, dear Cousin Kitty," he said, picking up his plate to move to a different chair. In the process he knocked the chair over and stumbled over the leg of it, spilling the contents of his plate down Lydia's front.

Lydia began to shriek as Mr. Collins took up his napkin and began to wipe his breakfast away. Away from the front of her dress. Away from above the front of her dress.

Lizzy/Kitty shouted out at him, "Mr. Collins, stop that at once!"

"It was all a misunderstanding, my dear cousin Kitty," Mr. Collins said to Lizzy. He stepped back from Lydia as he spoke, giving her the chance to break away from his ministrations and escape upstairs to change into a clean gown.

"My name is Elizabeth," Lizzy said through gritted teeth. She was already counting the days until his departure and he had only just arrived.

"Oh, I most humbly apologise, dear Cousin," he said, bowing to her. "So much beauty. So many choices. It is no wonder I could not keep all of your names straight. Please accept my most heartfelt apologies. I beg of you! Please forgive me."

Lizzy could not help but roll her eyes as he bowed and scraped, humbling himself before her. "Of course, Mr. Collins, I forgive you for calling me Kitty and I am sure that Lydia will forgive you for the accident with your breakfast. I do believe, however, that if you have any further accidents at the table, that you should refrain from offering assistance." Unbeknownst to Lizzy, in her annoyance with Mr. Collins, her voice had taken on a sharp edge that was well known to him. Well known and well loved. He looked at Lizzy with reverence.

"Thank-you, thank-you, Cousin Elizabeth! Such Christian charity. It brings to mind Lady Catherine, who is filled with Christian charity. Christian charity and good advice. You must allow me to thank-you, not only for your forgiveness but also for your good advice."

Chapter 11

Posted on Saturday, 2 June 2001, at 1:00 a.m.

CAROLINE BINGLEY WAS THRILLED. Her greatest wish was soon to come about. Mr. Bingley had received a letter from Mr. Darcy and she had just read it. She carefully put the letter back in the drawer of his desk exactly where Mr. Bingley had left it and closed the drawer quietly, before setting off to tell her sister the good news. She opened the door into the hallway far enough to see that no one was there, then she quickly stepped through and shut the door quietly. She heaved a great sigh of relief. She was safe. No one had seen her.

"Mr. Darcy is coming," she chirped to her sister. "He is coming. It may be too late to do anything about Charles and Miss Prissy, but he is coming to try. I wonder if he is bringing his little sister with him? If he does and we get ride of Miss Perfect, we can talk Charles into marrying Georgiana. That will solve the problem of getting Georgiana out of my way. Even if we cannot get rid of Miss Wonderful, Mr. Darcy will be here. He will be here and I, Caroline Bingley, will at last be able to receive his proposal of marriage. I have a premonition, Louisa. I just know that this will be the time that he asks me. Nothing can go wrong this time. I feel it. Oh, I wish we were already engaged so that we could correspond directly with each other. There is so much to apprise him of."

AFTER THE INCIDENT AT THE breakfast table, Mr. Collins had attached himself to Lizzy and followed her everywhere. As her tolerance for his company wore thin and she began to speak sharply to him, he became more and more besotted with her. Each harsh word seemed to endear her to him more.

The weather had been wet and for nearly three days Lizzy had had little respite from his company. The fourth day after the breakfast incident, sunny weather returned and it had dried enough to make walking in the garden possible.

"Dear Mr. Collins," Mrs. Bennet simpered as they stood watching her daughters partake of their various activities. "I do hope that you are finding your visit satisfactory."

"Very much so, my dear Mrs. Bennet. Very much so, indeed. My cousins are uniformly charming, especially Miss Jane and Miss Elizabeth. I was disappointed to find Miss Jane previously attached, but I realize that it cannot now be helped. I have not heard Miss Elizabeth speak of any gentleman that she is attached to."

"No, Lizzy has no attachments," Mrs. Bennet rushed to assure him. "None whatsoever."

Mr. Collins wished that he could speak to Lady Catherine, but she was in Kent, over fifty miles away, so he turned to Mrs. Bennet. He was sure he could trust her. She had been so attentive to him since his arrival.

"My dear Mrs. Bennet," he began. "In the past few days I feel as if I have gotten to know you well enough to depend on your opinions. I should like to speak to you about a serious matter. As you know, Lady Catherine, in her infinite wisdom, has advised me to seek a wife. She instructed me to choose from among your daughters should any or all of them prove to be worthy of me. As I have said before, I find your daughters to be uniformly charming. Over the past few days I find that my affections have been captured by your fair daughter, Elizabeth, not that your other daughters are in any way lacking. Oh, no! Pray do not think that I would slight them in any way. They are they are all quite lovely. But I find myself drawn toward Miss Elizabeth in a way that I am not drawn toward the others and I think that she is drawn to me, as well. I intend to ask for her hand before I return to Hunsford the day after tomorrow and I would like to know if you, as her mother, can offer your assurances that there will be no obstacles in making her my wife."

Mrs. Bennet could not believe her ears. An offer of marriage to Lizzy. Lizzy, the daughter that she dispared of ever finding a husband for. Two daughters married. Longbourn to remain in the family.

"Oh, my dear Mr. Collins!" Mrs. Bennet cried. "There are no obstacles. No obstacles whatsoever. Lizzy will be honoured to become your wife. Oh, Mr. Collins! You are all that is wonderful!"

"Mrs. Bennet, it makes me the happiest of men to know that nothing stands in the way of my future happiness."

MR. DARCY WAS RELIEVED to see the entrance to Rosings Park through the window of the carriage. It had been a long journey, made longer by problems with the carriage. A journey which should have taken less than three days, had taken five. He was exhausted. He was glad to be at the end of his journey, but he dreaded facing Lady Catherine and telling her that he would not marry Anne. He could not marry her!

Suddenly, he was there. The carriage stopped and he saw Lady Catherine standing at the top of the stairs waiting for him.

"You are late," she snarled at him as he bowed to her in greeting. "Too late."

He sighed. He suddenly felt as he had when he was nine years old and spent the summer at Rosings while his parents had toured the continent. She had snarled at him all that summer. Snarled at him for doing boy things. Snarled at him for things his own mother laughed at. He stood, looking at her and remembering.

"Have you nothing to say for yourself?" she asked sharply.

"Did you not get the express I sent you after the accident with my carriage?"

"You should take better care of your carriages," she snapped. "That would not have happened to one of my carriages, I can assure you."

She narrowed her eyes, pursed her lips and stared at him for several seconds before turning on her heel and sweeping back through the door. He followed her, marshalling his courage as they walked. She was silent until they had entered her drawing room, the door was closed and she had taken her chair.

"You are too late, Anne is betrothed," Lady Catherine said bitterly. "Had you come when I first wrote to you, before she became so well-acquainted with that man, we could now be planning your wedding. Perhaps if you were to talk to her, remind her of the promises that your mother and I made to each other, perhaps then she would listen to reason. Now, all she speaks of is love. Can you believe it? Love? Where is the duty and honour of that, I ask you? She thinks nothing of all the plans that I have made for her."

Mr. Darcy had to struggle to keep the smile from his lips. "Little Anne in love!" he though happily.

"Nothing has been announced yet because I told them that you needed to be informed of their decision," Lady Catherine said. "I wish for you to appeal to Lord Caverstock. I told him that you and Anne are engaged. Appeal to his sense of honour, his sense of duty. He was a soldier. He should understand duty and honour. You must speak to him. Tell him that you expect him to step aside and honour the understanding that exsists between yourself and Anne. Now that you are finally here, I summon him so that you may settle this matter once and for all."

The last thing in the world that Mr. Darcy wanted was to interfere with his cousin's betrothal, but as was usual, Lady Catherine commanded instead of asked and so the summons was sent.

LIZZY WAS DISGUSTED, NOT ONLY with Mr. Collins' behavior, but also with the behavior of her mother and father. She was well aware what Mr. Collins' purpose was for visiting Longbourn. The whole family was aware of it. He had been very open and above board with that. She also knew that she was the object of his intentions. For three days she had been trapped in the house by inclement weather. Three days of his almost constant attentions. Lydia and Kitty had stayed as far away from Mr. Collins as they could following his accident at breakfast.

Mrs. Bennet was actively promoting his attentions toward Lizzy. "Do not roll your eyes, Miss Lizzy," she had hissed when Lizzy had accidentally reacted to a particularly stupid comment with open scorn. "He pays a great deal of attention to you and you must show him how welcome his attentions are."

"His attentions are not welcome," Lizzy hissed to her mother in return. "Not welcome at all. And I will not pretend that they are."

Her father had just smirked. No support. Just a smirk. He saw what was going on and allowed it to continue for his own amusement. Lizzy felt abandoned. Alone. And very irritated! Jane was occupied with Mr. Bingley, her mother was trying to forward Mr. Collins' suit and her father just laughed to himself then shut himself away in the library.

For three days she had received his constant attentions while awaiting a change in the weather. Finally, on the fourth day the weather was sunny and dry. Good enough weather to walk into Meryton if one wore old boots and old petticoats that would not be damaged by the muddy roads. Dirtied, perhaps, but not materially damaged.

LORD CAVERSTOCK RECEIVED THE summons from Rosings Park with great trepidation. He felt he was a soldier being called to battle. This time, though, he was more frightened than he had ever been on the battlefield. This time he fought for something infinitely more important to him than King and Country. This time he fought for Anne. The intensity of his emotion surprised him. The fear of losing her felt like a tight band around his chest, crushing the very breath from his body. This time if he lost it would not be his life. This time if he lost it would be his future.

He dressed carefully in the most severe, dignified attire that he owned. He studied himself in the mirror and was satisfied with his appearance. Now all that was left was to prepare himself mentally.

"It should not be so difficult," he told himself. "I am, after all, an Earl. I am of higher rank than Lady Catherine and the nephew who is trying to steal Anne away from me." It helped to remind himself that Anne was one and twenty and no longer needed her mother's permission to marry. "But what if they are successful in their attempt to persuade her?"

Chapter 12

Posted on Saturday, 9 June 2001, at 12:32 a.m.

LIZZY HAD SUGGESTED THE WALK into Meryton with the intention of escaping Mr. Collins' company. Lydia and Kitty were delighted with the suggestion and had run to get changed. Mrs. Bennet, upon hearing of the plan, had immediately taken Lizzy aside and ordered her to invite Mr. Collins along.

"Mama, please, no!" Lizzy begged to no avail. "Mr. Collins cannot wish to walk to Meryton through all the dirt and mud."

"Lizzy," Mrs. Bennet snapped, "you will walk with Mr. Collins. You will accept his attentions to you. Do you understand me? I will brook no opposition."

Lizzy groaned, but knew she had no choice except to walk with Mr. Collins. Halfway to Meryton, she regretted not resisting her mother's order more vigorously. Kitty and Lydia had walked ahead, far outstripping the others because Mr. Collins was having difficulty keeping up. His face had turned red, he had begun to gasp for air, so Lizzy had no choice but to slow her pace. She had never been so thankful for Mary's presence before. She shuddered as she imagined being caught in the countryside alone with Mr. Collins. The way he looked at her. The things he said. It was clear to Lizzy that he planned to propose marriage to her. She knew that she must keep one of her sisters with her at all times and since Mary seemed to enjoy his company, she became Lizzy's favorite sister of all.

As they entered the village, they saw Kitty and Lydia speaking with several officers.

"Lizzy, look," Lydia called over to her sister. "We are just making a new acquaintance. Come. You must be introduced as well."

The two young officers, Lieutenants Carter and Denny, proceeded to introduce the young ladies and Mr. Collins to their friend, Mr. Wickham. Lizzy's gloomy mood deepened. Before her stood a handsome man with a friendly, open countenance. A handsome man whose smiles told her that he was happy to meet her. Unfortunately, she still had Mr. Collins beside her. Annoying, repulsive Mr. Collins. Mr. Collins, who made it clear to the officers and their friend that Lizzy had walked to Meryton with him.

As the group stood talking, a familiar carriage slowed to a stop beside them. Seated within were Jane, Mr. Bingley and Caroline.

"Good day, ladies," Mr. Bingley called. "Gentlemen."

LORD CAVERSTOCK MOUNTED THE stairway to the main entry doors at Rosings, his heart beating rapidly, his stomach in a knot. This would be the showdown. He was expecting to find a man with the same manner and attitude toward Anne as Lady Catherine. He was expecting to find a man that claimed a prior understanding with Anne.

He was shown into the study by Wilcox and noted the tall gentleman standing stiffly before the fireplace.

"Mr. Darcy, Lord Caverstock has come to call," Wilcox said before he withdrew and closed the door. Lord Caverstock waited unsure how to proceed. The two men stared at each other silently for several moments. When the silence was broken, it was broken by both at once.

"Lord Caverstock, I . . . . . . ."

"Mr.Darcy, there . . . . . . "

"Pardon me, my Lord," Mr. Darcy said, "pray continue."

"No, no," Lord Caverstock replied, "forgive me for interrupting."

The tension continued to build for several more seconds of silence until Mr. Darcy spoke again.

"Lord Caverstock, I am pleased to meet you. I met your eldest brother on several occasions. Allow me to offer my condolences on his passing."

"Thank-you, Mr. Darcy," Lord Caverstock replied. "Edmund was the best of men. Yes, the best of men. Mr. Darcy, I never expected to be Earl. Never wanted to be Earl. It was thrust upon me. I entered the army as a young man. Expected to remain in the army. I never expected to meet . . . . . . "

Lord Caverstock stopped, trying to work up the courage for his next words. He surprised both himself and Mr. Darcy with the intensity of his next words.

"Do you love her?" he asked forcefully, dreading the answer.

"As a cousin. I love her only as one loves a cousin," Mr. Darcy hurried to assure him. "Do you?"

"Not as a cousin. Definitely, not as a cousin!" Lord Caverstock blurted out. There was silence as they came to understand each other, then both men began to laugh.

"No," said Mr. Darcy, "I can see that you do not love her as a cousin." He paused slightly. "Poor Lady Catherine. She expects me to talk you out of marrying Anne. I have no intention of trying to interfere with your betrothal. Instead, I must confess that I am relieved. While I do, indeed, love her as a cousin, she and I would not suit. Tell me, is it true what my aunt says? Is it true that you stood up to her? You and Anne."

"And Mrs. Jenkinson, although we would appreciate it if you would not tell your aunt just how much help Mrs. Jenkinson has been to us. But yes, Anne and I did stand up to her. Mostly Anne. Your cousin is a strong and amazing woman."

"Little Anne," Mr. Darcy thought. "Strong and amazing, indeed!"

MR. COLLINS WAS PLEASED WITH himself. He was soon to be alone with Lizzy in the sitting room. He and Mrs. Bennet had planned it all. He followed Mrs. Bennet out of the dining room, through the hall and into the sitting room where Lizzy and Kitty were arranging flowers on the table.

"Lizzy," Mrs. Bennet said sharply. She waited to continue until Lizzy stopped what she was doing and looked up. "Lizzy, Mr. Collins has something he would like to say to you. Come, Kitty. I need you upstairs."

"Please do not go, Mama," Lizzy pleaded. "Mr. Collins can have nothing to say to me that you could not hear."

"Lizzy, you will listen to Mr. Collins," Mrs. Bennet insisted. She looked at Mr. Collins by way of encouragement before taking Kitty's arm and hurrying her out, closing the door behind her.

"My dear Miss Elizabeth," Mr. Collins began. He took a deep breath. He tried to remember the words that he had written down and practiced the night before. One look at the expression on her face and he had difficulty continuing, so he looked down. He should have looked at the ceiling or at his shoes, or even her shoes, but he did not look down far enough. He looked down far enough that he could not remember any of the words he intended to say. He could not even be sure what exactly it was that he wished to ask her. His heart began to race. He noticed she held something in her hands.

"What kind of flowers are those?" he asked, finding it difficult to focus his eyes.

"Roses, Sir," she answered sharply. "They are yellow roses."

"Oh, yes," he continued, comforted by the tone of her voice. "Roses. I grow roses. They are very beautiful roses."

Lizzy was confused at the odd conversation they were having.

"Yes, I do not know how much longer I will have roses this year," Mr. Collins said. "I fear that they are almost finished."

"Yes, it has grown rather cold for roses," Lizzy countered.

"I like roses," Mr. Collins said. "May I have one?"

"Of course, Mr. Collins," she replied, as she handed him one.

He turned and left the room in a daze, nearly running into Mrs. Bennet who was hovering right outside the sitting room door.

"How did it go, Mr. Collins?" Mrs. Bennet asked eagerly.

"Dear Madam," Mr. Collins said to Mrs. Bennet. "She has made me the happiest of men. She is a flower, a rose."

LOUISA HURST AND CAROLINE BINGLEY sat alone that afternoon, talking about what they had seen in Meryton.

"Such a shocking display," Caroline huffed. "You noted how forward they were with those officers."

"Yes, I did. Extremely shocking!" Louisa replied. "They were very, very forward with the officers. Odd that Charles should know that gentleman with the soldiers. What was his name? Westran . . . Wordan . . . I cannot remember. Come Caroline, do you remember?"

"I am sure it was something like that. We can ask Charles when he comes back," Caroline answered. "We must also find out more about him. Charles did say that he, whatever his name is, was raised with Darcy. Like brothers they were. He could be a very good person to get to know. Mr. Darcy would wish me to befriend his childhood playmate."

"Very handsome, too, is he not?" Louisa asked. "Very handsome."

"Louisa, I hardly noticed," Caroline said, not at all truthfully. She had noticed exactly how very handsome he was and how elegantly attired he was, too. The best of quality. The latest of styles. Very handsome, indeed. "Perhaps," she said thoughtfully, "I could make Mr. Darcy jealous. I could encourage his attentions. Mr. Darcy would then realize that he must declare himself. Yes, Louisa. Perhaps I should make his acquaintance, then when Mr. Darcy gets here he will realize that there is not a minute to lose."

"Very good, Caroline," Louisa said. "Very good, indeed. You must not let Mr. Darcy think that you will wait for him forever. Wonderful idea."

Chapter 13

LADY CATHERINE GLARED AT Mr. Darcy, too upset to speak. Almost.

"What do you mean you will not interfere with their betrothal?" she shouted. "They are not betrothed. Oh, is this to be born? It shall not be. I forbid it!"

"Please Aunt," Mr. Darcy answered gravely, "Anne no longer needs your permission to marry. She is one and twenty and may marry as she chooses. It appears that she has chosen Lord Caverstock over me."

Lady Catherine continued to glare. "You should have come sooner," she growled at him. "You have ruined all your mother's dreams, all my dreams. If only you had come sooner, this would not have happened. He is totally unacceptable."

"He is an Earl," Mr. Darcy reminded her. "An Earl with a vast fortune and a lovely estate not ten miles from here. I understand that his income is significantly more than mine. It is a good alliance. And they seem to love each other."

"Bah," she snapped back. "What does love have to do with it? His estate may be lovely, but it is nothing to Pemberley and his income, why it is only twelve thousand a year. Barely enough more than yours to make any difference. He is nothing to you. Anne is a fool."

MR. BENNET LOOKED WITH amusement at Mr. Collins as the man hemmed and hawed, trying to discuss the understanding that he thought he had with Lizzy.

"Mrs. Bennet gave me her assurances," Mr. Collins began, "that Cousin Elizabeth has no prior attachments and that my attentions to her would be happily accepted."

Mr. Bennet raised his eyebrows in amusement at the idea of his Lizzy happily accepting anything, especially his attentions, from Mr. Collins. "Did she?"

"Sir? Did she?" Mr. Collins asked.

"Yes, Mr. Collins," Mr. Bennet repeated, "did Lizzy happily receive your attentions to her?"

"Oh, yes, most assuredly," Mr. Collins replied. "She accepted my attentions in the manner elegant ladies of fashion do when they wish to encourage a gentleman."

Mr. Bennet fought to surpress his smile. "Well, what did she say or how did she act that gave you this understanding of her mind?"

"She reacted with great favor to all of my compliments. They made her smile. I even dare to think that the more ardent compliments made her blush. I do take great pride in being able to offer those compliments that ladies find to their liking."

Mr. Bennet began to lose his battle to keep from laughing. He covered his mouth with his hand. His efforts were in vain. His laughter would not be surpressed.

Mr. Collins jumped up, sure that Mr. Bennet was choking. He began to clap Mr. Bennet on the back, harder and harder, until Mr. Bennet finially was able to shout, "Stop! Enough!"

"Oh, my dear Sir," he cried. "I feared that you were having some kind of seizure or attack. Do you need further attention?"

Mr. Bennet looked with fondness at Mr. Collins. It had been too long since he had been so well entertained. What a man! What a fool! "Pray Mr. Collins, continue. Tell me more about your courtship of Lizzy," he said when, at last, he was able to catch his breath again.

"She invited me to go walking with her to Meryton," Mr. Collins said. "Then earlier today she gave me this rose." He pointed at the rose that he had placed through his buttonhole. "You can see, Sir, that she places great value on my attentions."

"Very good, Mr. Collins. Very good!" Mr. Bennet said. "Excellent!"

Mr. Bennet was sorry to see Mr. Collins leave the next morning. He had provided Mr. Bennet with an endless source of amusement that Mr. Bennet was sure he would never be able to replace.

"CHARLES, WE SHOULD HAVE your friend to dine with us soon," Caroline said. "The one that we met in Meryton the other day. The one that grew up with Mr. Darcy."

"George Wickham, do you mean?" Mr. Bingley replied.

"Yes, Mr. Wickham," Caroline answered. "I am sure that Mr. Darcy would like to know that we are attentive to his childhood friend."

"Excellent idea," Mr. Bingley said. "We could invite the Bennets. I believe that they have been introduced to Wickham. Should make a jolly party."

"Must we invite all of the Bennets?" Caroline asked. "I understand if you wish to invite Jane, but all of the Bennets? I was thinking more alone the lines of a nice quiet family dinner so that you could reestablish you acquaintance with him."

"Yes, you may have a point there, at that," Mr. Bingley replied. "It has been years since I last saw Wickham. Used to see him quite a lot when we all were first at Cambridge. But after a while, we saw him less and less. I hardly saw him at all after he and Darcy stopped sharing rooms. Yes, it might be better to have him to a family dinner the first time. Shall we try for as early as tomorrow evening?"

"Oh, yes, Charles, do invite him for tomorrow," Caroline enthused. "Just a small family dinner."

MR. COLLINS WAS STARING OUT OF the window of the post chaise, but in his mind's eye, he was seeing an entirely different view. A much nicer view. A view of his beloved. A view of his dearest Cousin Elizabeth. His favorite view of his beloved Cousin Elizabeth. He groaned and shifted in his seat.

"I must not think about such things," he told himself sternly. "There is enough time to think about those things when we are married. Married." He sighed deeply. "Married to Elizabeth. Oh, Lady Catherine will be so pleased with me. She told me to go to Longbourn and find a wife and I did. There is nothing left but to announce it and have the banns read. My father-in-law to be will take care of the announcements and reading of the banns. My mother-in-law to be will take care of the rest. Then she will be my wife."

He forced his mind to other things. Things which did not discomfit him as much as the thought of his darling Elizabeth. "Lady Catherine," he told himself, "I will think of Lady Catherine. Lady Catherine has promised to prepare the house for my wife. I wonder what she means. I must ask her the very first moment that I see her."

Chapter 14

Posted on Saturday, 23 June 2001, at 3:17 p.m.

THE NEWLY COMISSIONED OFFICER, GEORGE WICKHAM, received the invitation to dine at Netherfield with surprise. He and Mr. Bingley had never been close. Their relationship had always involved Mr. Darcy and his relationship with Mr. Darcy had soured so completely that Wickham had never thought to see Mr. Bingley again, let alone receive an invitation to dine at a family dinner.

"Darcy can never have said a word about me to him," he thought in astonishment after he finished reading the invitation for the third time. "He can know nothing of our past falling out, let alone anything of the last few months." He thought long and hard about the best way to proceed.

"I wonder if they are even still friends? If they are, imagine how he will feel when he finds me an intimate of Bingley's. What a good joke that will be."

Wickham felt better than he had for weeks. "I failed with that little ninny sister of his, but now I have a new chance. A chance to succeed with his friend. And without Darcy around, Bingley will be easy to influence. I will soon have control over his entire fortune. So much better than the paltry amount I would have received by marrying the little whiner."

LIZZY WAS SPEECHLESS. She stared at her mother, her mouth hanging open. She knew not whether she should laugh, cry or retch. A moment's reflection decided her upon retching. She could not believe her ears.

"You will be such a beautiful bride," Mrs. Bennet crooned. "Perhaps not as beautiful as Jane, but you will look very nice, indeed. To think, we will never have to worry about leaving Longbourn." It was a new sensation for Mrs. Bennet, this high approval of Lizzy. Why, Lizzy was very nearly her favorite daughter. Her favorite after Lydia and Jane, of course. "Jane, now there is an excellent match. But yours, Lizzy, yours is very good, as well. Perhaps not as fine as Jane's, but very good. Very good, indeed. And I shall remain Mistress of Longbourn no matter what."

"B . . b . . br . . bride?" Lizzy finally managed to stutter. "Mr. C . . C . . Collins? But, but, Mama, I am not engaged to anyone, least of all him! Not engaged at all! How could you think it?"

"Of course you are, you silly girl. He asked and you agreed. You gave him a rose."

"That is because," Lizzy said, her voice growing shrill, "he asked for a rose. He did not ask me to marry him. He asked for a rose, not my hand. Had he asked for my hand, the answer would have been no. Do you understand, Mama, I would have said ,"NO"."

Mrs. Bennet's smile was starting to slip. "He asked. You must have heard him. You said, "Yes." You agreed and your father gave you both his blessing. Mr. Collins told me so himself. You are engaged. All that remains is to send in an announcement and post the banns."

"No! Absolutely not. I am not engaged," Lizzy shouted. "How could you even think it?" Lizzy turned and began to hurry toward the library to find her father, Mrs. Bennet close on her heels.

"You are engaged!" she called to Lizzy's back. "You are! I swear it."

Lizzy flung open the library door without knocking, surprising Mr. Bennet as he sat reading.

"I am not engaged to Mr. Collins!" Lizzy cried. "Even if you did give him your blessings, I will not marry him."

Mr. Bennet looked at her gravely. "I am relieved to hear that," he said. "I did hear that you had reached some sort of understanding with Mr. Collins. Both Mr. Collins and your mother assured me of that fact. I had planned to discuss it with you, because I have such a hard time believing that it was true."

"It is true," Mrs. Bennet shouted. "She is engaged to Mr. Collins. She even gave him a rose."

Lizzy spun around to face her mother, her face flushed with anger. "I gave him a rose," she said through gritted teeth, "because he asked for a rose. He did not ask me to marry him. I would never have agreed to that. Never in my whole life."

"Then why," Mrs. Bennet asked, "why does he think you are to marry him? You must have given him encouragement. You gave him encouragement and now you have changed your mind. Well, you cannot change your mind at this late date. I will not allow it."

"Mama, I promise you," Lizzy insisted loudly, "I gave Mr. Collins no encouragement. If anyone gave Mr. Collins encouragement, it must have been you. You were the one who forced me to invite him to spend time with him. You were the one who insisted that I be friendly and attentive. You were the one that insisted I speak with him alone when I ended up giving him the stupid flower. He asked for a flower, Mama. He did not ask me to marry him."

Lizzy spun back to face her father. "Did you really give him your permission?" she demanded. "Without asking me?"

Mr. Bennet laughed and decided to take pity on his daughter. "I do not recall giving him permission for anything. I certainly would remember if he had asked permission for your hand in marriage." He looked at Mrs. Bennet. "Mr. Collins did mention something about your attentions, my dear wife, but I paid him no mind. I was sure that you would not prefer him above me. It now seems that I may have been wrong. Well, never mind. Anything along those lines will have to occur after I have died and I will remain blissfully unaware of it. I will admit that he showed me a flower and told me that Lizzy had given it to him, but even you, Mrs. Bennet, cannot mistake the gift of a flower for an engagement."

"He did not propose," Lizzy insisted loudly. "He did not propose! I would have said, "NO"."

AS SOON AS HE HAD BEEN safely delivered to Hunsford, Mr. Collins set off to call on Lady Catherine and give her his good news. He went directly. Without taking refreshments. Without refreshing his person. He set of as briskly as his legs could carry him. Not so fast that he was left gasping for air, but fast enough that he had to stop and mop his brow before knocking on the front door.

He was shown into Lady Catherine's favorite sitting room, or one of her favorite sitting rooms, for she had several. It was a smallish one. Perfect for a tete-a-tete. Mr. Collins was pleased. He paced around the room while he waited for Lady Catherine to appear. He picked up an ornament from a table. An ornament of a sheppardess holding a crook. Lovely little thing. Dark, curly hair. Something like his darling, adorable Elizabeth. He closed his eyes and sighed, remembering his proposal and her gift of the flower. The flower. He remembered the words he had meant to say. He was positive he had said them. Almost positive. Not that it mattered. Mrs. Bennet had assured him that Elizabeth welcomed his suit. Mr. Bennet did as well. He was positive Mr. Bennet did. Almost positive.

Lady Catherine swept into the room, startling him so that he almost dropped the shepardess. She watched him fumble with the figurine impatiently before he gained control and managed to set it down unharmed. She was still extremely annoyed about Anne's engagement. Extremely. She looked at him and was pleased. Here, at last, was someone that knew his place. Someone who always said and did the proper thing. Someone who always said and did what she told him to do. Someone she could get annoyed with.

"Mr. Collins, sit," she said sharply. "I trust you have good news for me. Tell me, what do you have to say for yourself?"

Mr. Collins hurried to sit in the chair closest to Lady Catherine. He leaned forward, sitting on the front of the chair. He got as close as he could to Lady Catherine. Very close. She noted his dissheveled appearance and sniffed in disapproval. After the choking that was brought about by the sniff subsided, she said, "Mr. Collins, go sit in that chair." She pointed to the chair farthest away from her own. Thus it was that they had to speak more loudly than normal to carry on their conversation.

"What news have you, Mr. Collins?" Lady Catherine asked again when Mr. Collins was situated.

"Very good news, my dear Lady Catherine," he told her. "The best."

"Begin at the beginning and tell me everything," she commanded.

"Well, as you advised me to," he began. "I set off early from Hunsford so that I would not be late to change to the post. I assure you I did not mind at all the extra wait at the inn. There was no inconvenience being four hours early. No inconvenience at all."

"Did you mention my name at the Post Inn?" Lady Catherine asked.

"Oh, yes!" Mr. Collins replied, "and they were very attentive to me, I can assure you. The mere mention of your name and I was treated like a king. Indeed. Just like a king. Where was I? Oh, yes, yes, I had a very pleasant lunch at the inn. The journey went as smoothly as I could have wished, travelling post, that is. I know that it would have been vastly more pleasant in any one of your several carriages. But the post was fine. Very fine, indeed. In any case, the weather was clear and the roads good. I arrived at Longbourn in time for tea."

"And your cousins, how did you find them?" Lady Catherine asked.

"Oh, Lady Catherine, they are uniformly charming. Five of the loveliest girls that I have ever encountered. Second only to your own lovely Anne. And the eldest. She is the jewel of Hertfordshire. She is the most beautiful creature I have ever beheld. If only I had been there a few weeks earlier, I would have chosen her as my wife."

"Why?" Lady Catherine demanded to know. "What do you mean a few weeks earlier?"

"A wealthy gentleman, with an income of five thousand a year, took a neighboring estate, Netherley, I think it's called. In any case, this gentleman, a Mr. Bingfield, I think he's called, met Cousin Jane and fell in love straight away. It was all decided before I arrived. Not that I blame Jane, of course. I can understand why she would choose to marry a man with five thousand a year, even if she would have preferred me. I am assured, given her behavior toward me, that had it not been for that five thousand a year, she would have chosen me. I can understand her decision. I do not hold it against her, especially since I had her other sisters to choose from. The second sister's name is Miss Elizabeth Bennet. That is who will I will soon lead to the alter and make my wife. She is everything that you instructed me to look for in a wife, with the added benefit of bearing a great resemblence, if I may dare say so, a very great resemblence to yourself, your Ladyship."

"A resemblence to myself?" Lady Catherine asked with surprise.

"Oh, yes," Mr. Collins said with pleasure in his remembrance. "In the tone of her voice, in the manner of her speaking, in her intelligence. She is not as elegant as your Ladyship is, nor does she have your experience or your wisdom. But she does resemble you in all the essentials and will benefit from association with you. Oh, yes, I think you will approve of my choice."

"You received her father's permission?" Lady Catherine asked. She had ordered him to find a wife. She had expected no less.

"Yes, yes! My dear cousin, Mr. Bennet, when I told him of our engagement said, "Very good, very good". And her lovely mother, Mrs. Bennet, was most helpful during the period prior to our betrothal. Most helpful. Her mother was the first to understand that another offer may never be made to her. Her sister Jane, such a lovely girl, well, she was very fortunate to secure a rich man for a husband. Very fortunate, although she should have been mine."

"Very good, Mr. Collins," Lady Catherine said. "Very good, indeed. And tell me more about this girl. I wish to know everything."

The mere thought of Lizzy made Mr. Collins a little breathless. "She is uniformly charming," he began. "Not as beautiful as her older sister, but charming just the same . . . ."

MR. DARCY WAS SO CAUGHT up in the book he was reading, he was not immediately aware of the voices coming throught the open door of the adjoining room. He had not noticed when they first began their conversation and by the time he did notice, it was apparent that the conversation was not meant for his ears. He was trying to determine if he could make an undetected escape when the word Hertfordshire caught his attention.

"Hertfordshire," he thought. "That is where Bingley has gone." Suddenly he heard the names, Netherley and Bingfield.

"Netherley and Bingfield?" He immediately translated those names to Netherfield and Bingley and began to pay strict attention. The rest of the conversation stunned him. He was horrified. He was appalled. He felt guilty. He should have acted sooner.

"Bingley to marry Mr. Collins' cousin. A woman who chose him soley based upon his income? Someone who would have preferred Mr. Collins were it not for the money?"

"Mr. Collins to marry her sister. Mr. Collins. That foolish, repulsive clergyman who is completely under the thumb of Lady Catherine."

It made him ill to think about it. Mr. Darcy disliked Mr. Collins. Intensely! And not just because of his foolish manners. He had seen the way Mr. Collins stared at young women. The way he had stared at Georgiana. That was why he had left Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley in London. To keep her away from Mr. Collins.

"What kind of parents would encourage a young woman to attach herself to a man like that? What kind of woman would accept him? Is this kind of woman to be Bingley's sister? Are these the kind of parents that will be Bingley's parents? No wonder Miss Bingley was so frantic. I should have listened. I should have acted sooner."

He shuddered when he thought of the description of Mr. Collins intended bride. "Very like Lady Catherine." Oh, no!!

Chapter 15

MR. WICKHAM LOOKED AROUND the dining room at Netherfield with satisfaction. He had been received by Mr. Bingley and his sisters as a valued friend. An old friend. None of them seemed to have heard even the slightest hint of his true dealings with Mr. Darcy. None of them suspected a thing. He was thrilled at the possibilities.

"That fool Darcy," he thought. "One word from him and I would never have been received here or anywhere else, for that matter. Too proud to admit that his little crybaby sister was willing to elope with me. Such a timid little creature she is. Just as well we were not married. I would have grown quite bored with her, I believe, and very quickly, too." He looked at Miss Bingley sitting next to him. "She has more spirit than that poor little mouse ever will and nearly as much money. Not bad to look at, either. Far prettier than Darcy's mousy little sister. What a joke if I were to marry his best friend's sister. Become his best friend's brother."

The more he thought about his new plan, the better he liked it. It was perfect. At last he would get his revenge against his childhood nemisis.

When Mr. Wickham, Mr. Bingley and Mr. Hurst rejoined the ladies after their obligatory time apart, Mr. Wickham was astonished at the amount of attention Caroline paid to him. She sought his opinions, then agreed with everything he said. He could do no wrong. She smiled. She sighed. She used all of the arts that she had used to try to win Mr. Darcy's attention. He wanted to laugh.

"This will be easy," he thought with glee. "Easier than I had dared hope. I will have to do little wooing. It seems that she is to woo me. I can scarcely wait to see the look on Darcy's stupid face when he finds out. What a joke that will be."

MRS. BENNET CONTINUED TO badger Mr. Bennet about Lizzy's engagement to Mr. Collins. "You must send the announcement in. You must have the banns read in church on Sunday. You must! Mr. Collins is expecting it. Lady Catherine deBourg is expecting it."

"There is no engagement," Mr. Bennet asserted calmly. "There will be no announcements, no banns read. I do not care who is expecting it. You, Mrs. Bennet, can concentrate all of your energy on Jane's upcoming nuptuals." He noticed the look of consternation on his wife's face. "You could not really believe that I would allow Lizzy, or any of my daughters for that matter, to marry a man such as Mr. Collins. I rue the day that I invited him to come into my home."

He rose from the breakfast table and retired to his library to check his accounts, not normally something that he looked forward to.

"Even this," he thought sourly as he looked at the columns of numbers, "is preferable to another discussion about Mr. Collins. If only I were able to turn the clock back and refuse him his visit. I should never have allowed him to set foot in this house. We should have made economies. We should have saved money so that there was an alternative to marriage for the girls. At least Jane will be in a position to help the others if something happens to me before they are all settled." He shuddered at the thought of his Lizzy, his favorite child, as the wife of someone as unworthy as Mr. Collins. He ran his hands through his thinning hair and felt the folly of his own behavior.

MR. DARCY WAS GLAD to be away from Rosings and back in London. He sighed in relief as he saw his sister's smiles upon his entrance. He was pleased to see evidence of the steady progress in her improving spirits. At times, he thought she seemed almost as she was before Ramsgate. He just wished he did not have to travel into Hertfordshire so soon. He had planned to take Georgiana with him to Hertfordshire, but given the circumstances, those plans had been amended. He wished he had the time to stay with his sister for a day or two before going on. But, he knew it could not be helped. He knew his friend, Mr. Bingley, needed immediate assistance. Mr. Collins' brother. Yes, immediate assistance.

"Georgiana," he said, "I fear I must go into Hertfordshire. I plan to leave directly after dinner this evening and I am not sure exactly when I will be able to return. Mr. Bingley has taken a house there and requires some help in getting his affairs in order."

"Of course you must go, William," Georgiana replied. "Hertfordshire?" She paused and directed her next comment to Mrs. Annesley. "Then it must be our Mr. Bingley. You know the one we read about. I was not aware that he had taken a house in Hertfordshire and when I read the announcement of his bethrothal in the paper, I was not certain that it was the same Charles Bingley. It was Hertfordshire that the announcement said, was it not Mrs. Annesley?"

"Yes, I do believe that it was," Mrs. Annesley replied.

"Yes," Mr. Darcy said in confirmation. "Yes, he is betrothed. Betrothed to a cousin of our aunt's clergyman, Mr. Collins."

"Mr. Collins?!" Georgiana shuddered and cried in disgust. "I hope, for Mr. Bingley's sake, that his bethrothed is nothing like Mr. Collins. That would be too terrible. Too, too terrible. Is that the business that you are going to help Mr. Bingley with?"

"I must admit that Bingley's betrothal is the most important reason for my visit. There are others, as well, but his betrothal takes precidence."

CAROLINE BINGLEY LOOKED AT herself thoughtfully as she brushed her long, auburn tresses that night before retiring. She was satisfied with her beauty. And satisfied with her plan. Very satisfied with her plan to make Mr. Darcy jealous using his old friend.

"It is going just as I had hoped, Louisa," she said to her sister who sat in a chair at her side. "Did you notice how attentive Mr. Wickham was to me? By the time Mr. Darcy arrives, I will have him completely under my control. Then it will just be a matter of arranging a little get together. Oh, I can hardly wait to see the look on Mr. Darcy's face when he sees that Mr. Wickham desires me. I do not know why we did not think of making him jealous before. This will surely open his eyes to my desirablity. And with his childhood friend, too."

Caroline lay awake long into the night and early morning hours, too excited by her plans to sleep. She began to plan the changes she would make at Pemberley. "Oh, to have unlimited resources at my command," she thought. "I will be able to remake Pemberley to suit myself. It will be so glorious, so elegant. I shall become the darling of the ton. A leader of society. The one that others emulate. Ten thousand a year. The jewels, the gowns, the carriages."

After she had completely reoutfitted Pemberley in her imagination, she turned her thoughts to the town house. "No expense will be spared. Everything will be updated. Everything will be the most modern and elegant that money can buy. All this will be accomplished with a little help from George Wickham. How perfect."

LIZZY SNUCK OUTSIDE IN THE moonlight to escape the cloying atmosphere that permeated Longbourn. She pulled her long woolen cape closely around her in an effort to ward off the chill air and wandered. She wandered aimlessly, without keeping track of the time or direction she was moving in. Somehow, without intending to, she found herself in the park surrounding Netherfield.

"Oh, dear," she thought with irritation. "Such a long way to return home now that I am finally feeling as if I could sleep."

She did not relish the thought of returning home through the fields and across the stiles that she had just crossed with nothing but the light of the moon to guide her, so she quietly walked around the house toward the lane. As she rounded the final corner of the building, she noticed a large carriage stopping in front of the entry stairs. She stepped back into the shadow of the building to wait for the chance to pass undetected. The carriage stopped and as the passenger dismounted, the entry door was flung open and Mr. Bingley appeared on the landing at the top of the stairs.

"Darcy," Mr. Bingley called as he hurried down to meet his friend. "We had nearly given up on you arriving tonight. I am very happy to see you. I have so much to acquaint you with. So very much, indeed. You see before you a lucky man. The luckiest man in England, perhaps the world. For I am to marry an angel. And I shall not have you disagree with me."

"How can I disagree with you when I have yet to meet your angel," Mr. Darcy replied dryly. "At least give me the opportunity to meet her before I disagree with you."

Lizzy was no longer tired. She was angry. She had to protect Jane. Jane and Mr. Bingley. She had to deliver Mr. Bingley from the clutches of his sisters and his friend. Surely it was too late for Mr. Darcy or Miss Bingley to interfere with Jane's engagement. It had been made public. It had been announced in the London newspapers. Lizzy was convinced that it was too late for Mr. Darcy to interfere but, it was only with the greatest of struggles that she was able to fight back her desire to set upon him at once. One look at his tall, muscular build, however, convinced her that he would have little difficulty on fending off a frontal attack. No, she would have to keep her wits about her. She would have to be on guard. She would have to protect Jane and Mr. Bingley from their enemies. The only thing that mollified her was that he had said he would wait to disagree with Mr. Bingley until after he had met Jane.

Chapter 16

Posted on Saturday, 30 June 2001, at 5:10 p.m.

MR. BENNET COULD NOT HELP but smile to himself as he read over the letter he had written to Mr. Collins regarding Lizzy. He was pleased. He felt it had just the right tone. The only drawback he could see was that Mr. Collins was not nearly clever enough to fully appreciate his words.

My dear Mr. Collins,

I trust your journey back to Kent passed without undue difficulty. I, myself, dislike travelling and avoid it whenever possible.

We seemed to have parted company with a misunderstanding. A misunderstanding of the first order. One that must be set to rights without delay. I will attempt to do so now.

If you recall, my dear cousin, you visited me in my study the day prior to your departure to tell me that you admired my Lizzy. You went on further to say that she had invited you to walk into Meryton with her and that she had given you a flower, a rose I believe it was. At no time during our conversation did you ever mention a proposal of marriage. When I spoke to Lizzy about this matter, she assured me that the subject of marriage never once was mentioned by you.

I would like to make myself perfectly clear, Mr. Collins. Had you asked me for permission to marry Lizzy the answer would have been a resounding NO. She is the last woman on earth who could make you happy and you would never, ever be able to make her happy.

Mrs. Bennet has told me that she is sure that you proposed marriage, but since she is the only one who seems to have heard you, I must assume that you reached an understanding with her. That union, I do believe, will bring happiness to you both. I must remind you, Cousin, that you will have to wait until I am dead and buried before that marriage can take place. I shall have to give you my blessing now, for I shall be unable to when the event finally occurs.

I am happy that we have had the chance to come to an understanding.

I send greeting from all your dear cousins, especially Mrs. Bennet, who asked to be remembered particularly to you.

Your cousin,

Daniel Bennet

"Yes, yes, that will do," Mr. Bennet thought with satisfaction. "That will do very well indeed."

MR. BINGLEY WAS EAGER TO be off to Longbourn. He waited impatiently while Mr. Darcy and his sisters finished their breakfasts.

"Caroline, Louisa, I plan to set off to Longbourn in half an hour," Mr. Bingley said when they had finished. "If you still wish to accompany Darcy and I, the carriage will be waiting."

"Charles," Caroline replied, "the hour is still far too early for making morning calls. Should we not wait until a more acceptable hour before setting off." She looked pointedly at Mr. Darcy, trying to convey with her eyes the wish to speak with him in private before his introduction to the Bennets.

Mr. Bingley would not be put off, however. He was determined to see Jane. To see her as soon as was humanly possible. "If you would rather not go, Caroline, I will give your regrets to Jane and her family."

"Perhaps that would be best," Caroline said. "Louisa and I shall stay home. And I fear that Mr. Darcy is too tired to pay such an early call after his journey yesterday evening. I am sure that he needs to stay at home and rest, as well."

Mr. Darcy was tired. He had spent the day travelling, then upon his arrival at Netherfield, had had to listen to his friend rave on and on for what seemed like half the night about his angel. It was tempting to stay at Netherfield and rest. He looked across the breakfast table at Caroline. He sighed. He knew what she wanted. He knew she wanted to warn him about the Bennets. He knew he should stay and listen to her. He knew he should stay and make his own suit known to her. He sighed again.

"No, Miss Bingley, I feel quite well rested," he said. "It is, after all, but a short journey from London over good roads. I am eager to meet the woman who will be your new sister."

Caroline tried to change her mind, but Mr. Bingley would not have it. "No, Caroline, you and Louisa stay and we will join you later." He turned to Mr. Darcy and said, "It is a lovely day. We can ride over to Longbourn. Just what you need after being cooped up in a carriage all day yesterday."

As the two gentlemen mounted their horses, Mr. Bingley confided to his friend, "I much prefer riding. It gets me to Jane's side more quickly and without my sisters to worry about, I feel no hurry to leave her side."

Mr. Darcy ventured to ask, "And what of Miss Bennet's family? What of her sisters? Tell me about them. I heard them mentioned by their cousin, Mr. Collins, who is clergyman to my aunt, Lady Catherine."

Mr. Bingley threw his head back and laughed. "Mr. Collins. Oh, dear. Yes, I did meet that gentleman when he was here visiting. It seems your aunt sent him here to choose a wife. I believe that he has fastened his hopes on poor Miss Elizabeth Bennet. He followed her around like a lost kitten. But to be truthful, I cannot see her married to him. It would be a very unequal match - she is far too intelligent for him."

"So you do not think she would accept him?" Mr. Darcy asked.

"I think it highly unlikely," Mr. Bingley replied. "She was either laughing at him or trying to avoid him. Never did I see her seek him out or encourage his attentions when he did manage to find her."

"And if her family should try to force her? Is she of age? Would she be given a choice?"

Mr. Bingley looked at Mr. Darcy. He had heard the commotion surrounding Lizzy and Mr. Collins, but his attention had been focused on Jane.

"She is but nineteen, I believe. I did hear Mrs. Bennet constantly praising him, but I am ashamed to say that I paid it little mind. I do know that no betrothal has been announced yet. What did Mr. Collins say?"

"That he and Miss Elizabeth are engaged and that he received the blessings of both of her parents."

"Oh, dear!" Mr. Bingley replied. "Poor Lizzy!"

"You do not think that she agreed to a marriage with Mr. Collins because of the advantages that she will receive from it?"

"I sincerely hope not," Mr. Bingley answered gravely. "It would certainly change my good opinion of her if I found that it was so." He grimaced as he thought back to Mr. Collins' visit. "I did not like the way he looked at Jane. I did not like him one little bit."

The rest of their ride to Longbourn was spent in silence as Mr. Bingley thought of Jane and Mr. Darcy thought of all they had talked of, all he had overheard at Rosings, all Caroline had told him in her letters. He knew that matters had progressed so far that it was likely nothing could be done to prevent Mr. Bingley's marriage, but he planned to assess the situation for himself. It suddenly occurred to him that he might be in for an unpleasant time when the Bennet family found out that his fortune was twice the size of his friend's. Just as suddenly, he fervently wished that he were safely back at Netherfield. Safely back at Netherfield paying his regards to Caroline. She had a fortune of her own. She had no reason to be a fortune hunter. He hated fortune hunters.

MR. WICKHAM SMILED AS HE opened and read the invitation to dine at Netherfield the later that week.

"Ah, my charming Caroline," he whispered to himself. "How I long to see you. How I long to make you my own." He chuckled as he thought of the look on Mr. Darcy's face when he found out that he, George Wickham, was to be the brother of Mr. Bingley. What sweet revenge that would be. "Soon, my dear Caroline. Soon."

"HE IS HERE, HE IS HERE," Mrs. Bennet screeched to her daughters. "Hurry, Jane, hurry. You do not wish to keep Mr. Bingley waiting. And he has someone with him. A rich friend, no doubt. Lydia, you must hurry too. Mr. Bingley has brought one of his friends to meet you."

Lizzy groaned as she heard her mother's voice. She knew exactly who had accompanied Mr. Bingley. She had seen them approach the house on horseback. Mr. Darcy. Her sworn enemy. She said a small prayer hoping that Hill had closed the door to the sitting room after she had shown Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy in. If not, if not . . . she did not wish to think about the words that her mother had just spoken.

She was already dressed for the day, so she descended the stairway, only to find the door standing half-way open.

"Oh, no!" she thought. "Mr. Darcy will have heard every word that Mama said. Oh, no!"

Without hesitating further, she took a deep breath, stood tall and entered the sitting room, shutting the door firmly behind her as she heard her mother begin a new round of dithering.

"Good morning, Mr. Bingley," she said with a curtsy.

"Good morning, Miss Elizabeth," Mr. Bingley replied. "Please allow me to present to you my friend, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy."

Chapter 17

MR. DARCY HAD BEEN EXPECTING to be welcomed to the Bennet household with open arms. Welcomed as the rich friend that he had heard Mrs. Bennet exclaiming about. He expected to be fawned over, given the blind deference normally paid by fortune hunters to men of great fortune. What he had not expected was to meet someone like Lizzy. Although he towered over her in height, her posture, her haughty manner, and her eyes, flashing with anger, intimidated him. For a brief moment he felt a child again until he recalled Mr. Collins' words to Lady Catherine about Miss Elizabeth Bennet's resemblence to her.

"Poor Mr. Collins," he thought, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, "she does bring to mind Lady Catherine. You had better pray that you are not engaged to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. You will not survive the wedding night."

Mr. Darcy bowed deeply. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Bennet. I have heard much of you, and none of it has been exaggerated, I assure you." He lost the battle to keep from smiling. His face was split with a wide smile.

"Mr. Darcy," Lizzy replied coldy in acknowledgement, giving only a prefunctory curtsy.

Mr. Bingley looked on, completely befuddled. He had cringed when they had heard Mrs. Bennet's comments and had seen Mr. Darcy cringe as well. He had noticed Mr. Darcy's initial reaction to Lizzy, then her reaction to him. Normally, Mr. Darcy was reserved, even shy, while Lizzy met new people with ease and friendliness. Something was wrong! Very wrong! He was saved from speculating on the situation when Jane entered the room and everyone else ceased to exist for him.

"Bingley," Mr. Darcy said softly when it became apparent that his friend had forgotten about making introductions. "Ah, Bingley," he said a little more loudly before finally getting Mr. Bingley's attention.

"Oh! Yes! Pardon me," Mr. Bingley stammered. "My dear Jane, I would like to present my closest friend, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy. Darcy, this is Miss Jane Bennet, soon to be Mrs. Bingley."

Mr. Darcy, still affected by Lizzy's cold manner toward him, smiled and greeted Jane politely. In the space of a few brief moments, he saw the warmth and caring that Jane and Mr. Bingley shared. He relaxed.

"Miss Bingley, Caroline, was wrong about Miss Bennet," he thought with relief. "Whatever her family is, love for Bingley is written all over her face." Along with his relief, he felt a pang of envy. "Bingley will marry for love! How I wish it were possible for me."

A loud clattering on the stairs signaled the arrival of the rest of the Miss Bennets and their mother. This was the Bennet family that Mr. Darcy had been expecting. Mrs. Bennet fawned over him. She pushed her youngest daughter, Lydia, at him. She attempted to flatter him, ignoring the icy civility that he resorted to with such women. He could do no wrong.

Mr. Darcy was relieved when Mrs. Bennet suggested a walk, even though she tried to engineer the arrangement so that there would only be four walkers. Jane and Mr. Bingley. Lydia and Mr. Darcy.

Lizzy was determined to go, despite her mother's claim that she was needed at home. As long as Mr. Darcy was in attendance of Jane and Mr. Bingley, she would stay by his side. When Kitty saw that Lizzy intended to go, she would not be stopped either.

Much to Mrs. Bennet's disappointment, Lydia quickly linked arms with Kitty, whispering loudly enough for all to hear, "I think a man nothing if he is not in regimentals. Mama cannot force me to walk with such a dull old man, no matter how rich he is."

Lydia and Kitty set off at a brisk pace, quickly leaving the others behind. Jane and Mr. Bingley walked so slowly, that short of stopping altogether, Lizzy and Mr. Darcy were soon far enough ahead to be out of earshot. They walked on in silence, both lost in thought.

At last, Lizzy felt she had to speak. "It is lovely weather for so late in the fall."

"Yes, indeed," Mr. Darcy replied, then fell again into silence.

After a few moments, Lizzy tried again. "I understood Mr. Bingley to say that you are from Derbyshire."

"Yes, I am."

They walked on. Lizzy was at first determined to say nothing further, but then she comprehended that it might make Mr. Darcy even more uncomfortable to have to converse with her.

"Come, Mr. Darcy, it is your turn," Lizzy said. "We must have some conversation. I have already commented on the weather and asked you where you are from. You might ask about the hunting at Longbourn or about this year's harvest."

"Do you speak by rule, then, when you are walking?" Mr. Darcy asked.

"Sometimes it is best," Lizzy answered. "Then we may pass the time without having to go to the effort of actually thinking, yet still avoid the discomfort of silence."

"And does silence cause you discomfort?" Mr. Darcy asked. "Must you always have conversation?"

"Yes, no, I mean . . . " Lizzy paused. "Silence between friends does not necessarily cause discomfort."

"But silence between enemies does?" Mr. Darcy replied. He watched Lizzy flush. "Perhaps you are right. What shall we speak of? Are you a great reader?"

Lizzy peered up at him, surprised. "I am sure that we never read the same books or if we do, we must have vastly different opinions on them."

"Then we will have endless topics to explore," Mr. Darcy countered. "Tell me, are you a great reader? Do you prefer reading to all else? What is your favorite type of book?"

"I do enjoy reading above all else, although I am not sure that I could be rightfully called a great reader. I must confess that I read for enjoyment and not for the nobler pursuit of bettering my mind. I love a good novel best of all. Now I am sure that you must despise me for my preference."

Mr. Darcy laughed. "I cannot despise you for preferring novels, for I love a good novel, myself."

Lizzy stared at him, an odd look on her face. She had not expected Mr. Darcy to be friendly. She had expected to be disgusted with his pride. The pride that she had imagined him to have after overhearing Caroline and Louisa speak of him.

"He is a formidable enemy," she decided to herself. "He is like a serpent. He will lull me with his charm. I will, I must be on my guard. I must not let myself be fooled by his manner."

Mr. Darcy smiled as he watched her out of the corner of his eye. Here was someone who was not interested in flattering him. Here was a young woman with opinions that would not be surpressed in his favor. His smile, however, soon faded as he remembered the conversation between his aunt and Mr. Collins. His countenance grew grave and conversation faultered as he thought of Lizzy betrothal to Mr. Collins. It was not right! He knew that something must be done. But what could be done?

"I will speak to her father," he thought. "He must be warned about Mr. Collins true nature. She could never be married to such a man."

Although the conversation was stilted, both Mr. Darcy and Lizzy were determined to keep it going. By the time they returned to Longbourn, Lizzy was exhausted from the effort of being civil and left Mr. Darcy in the entry hall while she went to her bed chamber to refresh herself.

CAROLINE AND LOUISA SAT in the drawing room of Longbourn, with only Mrs. Bennet and Mary for company. Caroline tapped her foot with impatience at being thus trapped.

"They should be back very soon," Mrs. Bennet assured Caroline, "although Lizzy is a great walker. She wanders around the countryside for hours at a time. Do you know if Mr. Darcy is a great walker?"

"Mr. Darcy, a great walker?" Caroline replied uncertainly. "I do not believe, that is, I am not sure . . ."

"I did so much wish for Mr. Darcy to become acquainted with my Lydia. She is such a lovely girl. Very nearly as beautiful as Jane, is she not?"

"Quite, quite," Caroline said. "So, Mr. Darcy is walking together with Lydia." Caroline relaxed. It was just as she had hoped. Lydia was the worst of the sisters. An hour spent with Lydia would convince Mr. Darcy, as nothing else could, of the evils of the Bennet family.

"No, I did wish it, but Lydia would have nothing to do with Mr. Darcy. She prefers men in red coats above anything else right now. She and Kitty walked out together, leaving Mr. Darcy with Lizzy. Lizzy, I ask you? What is the use in that? Lizzy is promised to Mr. Collins and in any case, whoever would prefer Lizzy above Lydia? I am most put out!"

Caroline smiled to herself. She had been the recipient of Lizzy's impertinence on more than one occasion. Lizzy was sure to be impertinent with Mr. Darcy. Oh, how he would hate that! And the thought of Lizzy with Mr. Collins. Well, that thought filled Caroline with glee! She would make Mr. Collins a proper wife.

"Poor, poor Mr.Darcy," thought Caroline happily. "Walking alone together with such women. How distraught he will be. And I will be here when he returns to soothe his ruffled sensibilities. Then when he sees me with Mr. Wickham, he will realize that he must make his proposals to me at once."

MR. BENNET HAD HOPED TO avoid all the visitors to Longbourn that day. He had just received a new shipment of books that he had ordered from his favorite bookseller in London and was eager to begin reading. He was, therefore, more than a little annoyed when he heard the knock on his library door.

Mrs. Hill opened the door and stepped partway through. "Mr. Darcy would like a word with you, Sir," she said.

"Mr. Darcy?" Mr. Bennet asked. "Am I supposed to know Mr. Darcy, Hill?"

"He came with Mr. Bingley this morning," she replied.

"You had best show him in, then," Mr. Bennet said, putting his book down reluctantly. He stood to face the door as Mr. Darcy entered.

"Come in, Sir," Mr. Bennet said. "Hill tells me that your name is Mr. Darcy and that you arrived with Mr. Bingley this morning. May I offer you some refreshment?"

"No thank-you, Mr. Bennet," Mr. Darcy replied. "I am a friend of Bingley, but that is not why I wished to speak with you."

"Please have a seat, Mr. Darcy, and tell me what it is that I can do for you."

"Uh, well . . . I believe that you know my aunt's clergyman, Mr. Collins," Mr. Darcy began.

Mr. Bennet had not known what to expect from Mr. Darcy, although he suspected that it would have something to do with Mr. Bingley. Never would he have guessed that Mr. Darcy would utter the name of Mr. Collins. He looked closely at Mr. Darcy and saw how uneasy that gentleman appeared.

"Yes," Mr. Bennet replied. "Mr. Collins is not only my cousin, but he is also the heir of Longbourn."

"I know it is presumptius of me to ask, Sir," Mr. Darcy said. "But I find that I must. What exactly was Mr. Collin's purpose for his recent visit with your family?"

Mr. Bennet had to smile. Mr. Darcy looked so grave, so concerned and about Mr. Collins, no less. "Why do you assume that Mr. Collins had a purpose in coming other than to visit? Is it not enough that we renew our acquaintance with each other?"

Mr. Darcy could find no easy way to say what he needed to say. He took a deep breath and blurted out, "I understand from Mr. Collins that he visited Longbourn in order to find a wife and that he is now betrothed to Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

Mr. Bennet's face became as grave as Mr. Darcy's. "He has made that announcement in Kent?"

"Yes, he has," Mr. Darcy said. "Sir, I know that it is not my business, but if you have, indeed, given your blessing to this match, I feel that I must acquaint you with matters that may make you wish to change you mind and break the engagement before it is too late."

Mr. Bennet groaned as he rubbed his hands across his face. "Tell me the worst of him. To tell you the truth, Mr. Darcy, I thought him harmless."

"I know of nothing truly damning," Mr. Darcy admitted reluctantly, "but he is a man of poor understanding. His thoughts are not his own. He is easily influenced by others. And perhaps most important of all, I do not think that he has the proper respect for young women."

"Yes, yes," Mr. Bennet said, "I have seen that much myself." He paused for a moment. "You do not think that my daughter would enjoy controlling her husband? Is not that the wish of every young woman?"

"I do not know your daughter well enough to know whether she would be able to control him or not," Mr. Darcy said, irritated at the direction the conversation was heading. "I do know that there can be little love in such an uneven match. Surely you cannot wish to subject your daughter to a life with a man she cannot love or respect."

"You are a young man, Mr. Darcy. You cannot know a father's concern for settling his daughters," Mr. Bennet said seriously.

"But I do, Mr. Bennet," Mr. Darcy said. "I have had the guardianship of my sister ever since my father died five years ago and I assure you that I as far as that man is concerned, I never even let my sister in the same room with her if I cannot also be with her."

Mr. Bennet sighed as he listened to Mr. Darcy speak. "You are right, Mr. Darcy. I had not realized that he would be such a problem. I assure you I will take immediate steps to put a stop to this misunderstanding."

"I will leave you now, Mr. Bennet," Mr. Darcy said as he rose and started toward the door. "Thank-you for hearing me out. I could not have in good conscience remained silent."

"I understand, Mr. Darcy. It is I who owe you thanks."

Mr. Darcy reached the door, which stood open several inches. He turned back to face Mr. Bennet. "You are quite welcome, Sir."

"And Mr. Darcy," Mr. Bennet said, "there never was a proposal, let alone a betrothal, in any place other than Mr. Collins mind. Even if Lizzy had received and accepted a proposal from Mr. Collins, I would never have given my permission. She is, after all, my favorite child. I could never bear to lose her to man so unworthy."

He passed out into the hallway and could hear talking and laughing coming from the drawing room, but decided that he needed a few moments alone to calm his nerves after speaking with Mr. Bennet. He turned and let himself out into the garden.

LIZZY WALKED DOWN THE STAIRS slowly, listening to the happy voices coming from the drawing room. Just as she was about to open the door, she heard Caroline Bingley's laugh ring out. Her walk with Mr. Darcy had disconcerted her more than she wished to admit and she knew that she needed a few more minutes in which to compose herself. She walked down the hallway toward her father's library and put her hand on the partially open door when the voice she heard made her freeze.

"Sir, I know that it is not my business, but if you have, indeed, given your blessing to this match, I feel that I must acquaint you with matters that may make you wish to change you mind and break the engagement before it is too late."

Lizzy was stunned! She could hardly breathe let alone move. The longer she listened to Mr. Darcy and her father talk, the angrier she got. While she could well believe that Mr. Darcy would say such words, it was her father's response that she could scarcely stand to hear. It was only when she heard Mr. Darcy move toward the door that she moved away from the door. She ducked out of the door into the garden, desperate to be alone in order to better determine what would best protect Jane and Mr. Bingley from this newest assault.

Lizzy hurried into the shelter of the shrubbery located nearest the house. She settled herself on a bench hidden behind a large bush.

"Oh, I can scarce believe it!" she muttered to herself in frustration. "Accusing Mr. Bingley, his friend, the brother of his intended bride, of being weak and easily influenced. Worse yet, of not having proper respect for Jane. And Papa actually thanking him for the information. This cannot be tolerated! It will not be tolerated!"

She became so preoccupied with the conversation that she overheard that she did not hear the footsteps on the gravel walk leading to her hide-a-way until they were almost upon her. She looked up as the steps halted.

"Mr. Darcy!"

Chapter 18

Posted on Friday, 3 August 2001, at 2:55 p.m.

LIZZY JUMPED UP FROM the bench she was sitting on, her emotions still in turmoil. There before her stood Mr. Darcy. Mr. Darcy, the swine. Mr. Darcy, who she had just overheard speaking with her father. Mr. Darcy, who wanted to cause a break between Jane and Mr. Bingley.

"Miss Bennet, pray excuse me for intruding upon your solitude," Mr. Darcy said.

"You are intruding, Mr. Darcy," Lizzy countered stiffly, "but it does not follow that the intrusion is unwanted." She hesitated a few moments before continuing. "I believe that we have a matter of some importance to discuss."

Mr. Darcy had enjoyed his earlier walk with Lizzy and after he had spoken with her father he found the prospect of spending more time alone with her vastly superior to joining the party in the drawing room. "Would you care to take a turn around the gardens with me? I understand that you are a great walker." He offered her his arm, but she linked her hands behind her back and quickly set off without him.

Lizzy's mind was spinning, her anger raging. She stopped when she realized that he lagged behind her and waited until he caught up with her before beginning. "Mr. Darcy," she asked, "do you often try to interfere with engagements?"

He looked at her gravely as he tried to form an answer. "No . . I . . . uh . . . I do not, but I thought . . . "

"You thought what, Mr. Darcy?" Lizzy interrupted harshly. "You thought that just this once, you would step in? What did you expect? That your interference would be welcomed." She paused to look at him closely. "I overheard you speaking with my father just now. Perhaps I should not have listened, but I did and I cannot pretend that I did not hear what I heard."

"It . . . it seemed to me," Mr. Darcy said in reply, "that such a match would be so unequal that, ah, that the result would surely bring unhappiness to both parties. You must be able to see that."

"Must I? I see no such thing. Exactly why do you think I should see such a thing? And in any case, who are you to be the judge? How do you know that the match is so unequal? Have you ever once considered that this may be a love match?"

Mr. Darcy looked at Lizzy gravely. He was stunned to think that the young woman before him could be in love with Mr. Collins. He had heard the expression, "Love is blind," but he had never expected it to be quite so blind as all that.

"How could it be?" he thought. "Can she really be in love with him?" He looked at the scornful, unhappy look on her face. "It must be true. She must love him. I must think of a way to show her what kind of a man he is." The thought of Lizzy in love with Mr. Collins brought out all of Mr. Darcy's protective feelings. He knew he had to save her. "She deserves better, even if she can't see it for herself." But what could be done? He vowed that he would find a way. A way that she could not find an objection to.

"I am sorry, Miss Bennet," he said, startling her by breaking the tense silence. "I should never have interfered. It was wrong of me. If you wish, I will speak to your father and tell him that I misunderstood the situation."

"You would do that?" Lizzy asked in surprise. "You admit you were wrong?"

"Yes, I will go to your father if that is your desire," he said, feeling dejected. "Yes, I admit I was wrong to interfere. Utterly and completely."

"That is my desire."

"I will do so at once," Mr. Darcy said stiffly. He bowed and set off across the lawns toward the house. Lizzy watched him go with surprise and more than a little distrust.

MR. DARCY KNOCKED AT THE library door, once again startling Mr. Bennet, who had fully expected to be left alone in peace.

"Enter," Mr. Bennet said crossly. He raised his eyebrows in surprise when he saw who stood at the door. "I thought, Mr. Darcy, that our business was concluded."

"I am afraid it is not," Mr. Darcy answered. "Miss Elizabeth overheard our discussion and has raised her objections to my interference. She claims that she is to have a love match with Mr. Collins. She said that she is determined to do so."

"Surely you misunderstood what she said," Mr. Bennet replied. "Or perhaps she resents that we have been talking about her behind her back. She is a very open and direct person, Mr. Darcy. Of one thing I am certain. She is not, very definitely not, in love with Mr. Collins and has no wish to marry him. Rest assured, Sir. I will talk to her and resolve this matter permanently."

Mr. Darcy sighed in relief. It had been very difficult for him to involve himself in the matter of Lizzy and Mr. Collins and he fervently hoped that he would never hear another word about it. He excused himself and left the library only to find that the Netherfield party was in the entry hall, preparing to leave. He joined the group as they said their farewells and climbed into the carriage with Bingley and his sisters.

"I LOVE IT," CAROLINE CROWED as the carriage pulled away from Longbourn. "Can you not picture it? Mr. Collins and Miss Eliza Bennet married. It is too perfect. Just too, too perfect. That is one wedding that I will await most eagerly. The thought of their wedding night sends me into raptures."

Mr. Darcy watched with dismay as Caroline and Louisa continued to find great pleasure in the idea of Lizzy married to Mr. Collins. Their comments were petty and cruel, each sister trying to top the other to find the ultimate indignity in the match. They seemed not to notice his lack of response when they directed their comments to him.

"Is this the woman I planned to propose marriage to?" Mr. Darcy thought with growing horror. He began to remember previous instances where Caroline's caustic tongue had found delight in others' misfortunes. He looked at her intently and saw a woman he did not know. Oh, her features were familiar to him. Her handsome face, her stylish hair, her mode of dress he knew well enough. But as to her essentials? Had she always acted thus? Had he seen only what he wanted to see and disreguarded the rest because she was his friend's sister?

"She deliberately misled me about Bingley and Miss Bennet," he realized as he watched her continue her attacks on the Bennet family and he saw clearly for the first time that her fawning was no different than that of any of the other fortune hunters that he had encountered. His chest tightened and his stomach turned as he realized just how close he had come to making the ultimate mistake. "I must get a grip," he told himself sternly. "This business with Wickham has affected me more than I realized. More, it seems, than it has affected Georgiana."

MR. BENNET WAS SITTING at his desk, replaying Mr. Darcy's visits in his mind when he heard Lizzy knock on the door. Without waiting for an invitation, she entered and crossed the room to sit heavily in the chair before her father's desk.

"Mr. Darcy came to visit you, did he father?" she asked.

"Several times," Mr. Bennet replied dryly. "And I must say that while I was surprised by his first visit, his second visit astounded me."

"He had no right to come to you at all," Lizzy stated firmly. "I confess, Papa, that I overheard your first conversation with him. To think that he would try to blacken a man's good reputation to prevent an engagement from going forth. It is wrong. Very wrong."

"You will be happy to know, then Lizzy, that when he returned, he withdrew his objections to the engagement."

Lizzy could not help but feel triumph. She had influenced Mr. Darcy's behavior. A rich and powerful man had listened to her. "It is only right that he should have done so," she told her father.

"Are you entirely certain, my dear, that you understand what you are saying?" Mr. Bennet asked, wishing that someone, anyone, would explain it all to him.

"Very sure, Papa," she answered. "Very sure!" She drew herself up, threw her shoulders back and sailed out of the room proudly, closing the door firmly behind herself.

Mr. Bennet poured himself a glass of brandy from the bottle he kept hidden in his desk drawer. He sipped on it slowly as he contemplated the conversations that he had had that day. Lizzy and Mr. Collins? Absurd! Unbelievable! No matter what anyone said, he was not prepared to give his consent to that marriage. Not even if Lizzy begged. Never!

Chapter 19

Posted on Thursday, 9 August 2001, at 4:04 p.m.

MR. COLLINS STARED AT THE letter from Longbourn. The words did not make sense. Not betrothed? He was certain that he had a clear understanding with Lizzy. Almost certain. He could remember the speech that had taken him so long to prepare. He would have made his offer sooner had he not taken such care with his speech. He had practiced the words until they flowed melodiously off his tongue. How could there be any doubt?

He read through the letter a second time, then a third. His face began to flush with anger. He was betrothed to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. He knew that he was. He was almost sure. Almost. He remembered the rose that she had given him after he had made his offer. Yes, he knew that she had given him a rose. He still had it. It was pressed in the pages of his bible. Actually, he had thought that he could press the rose as he had seen other flowers pressed, but really, it just made his bible lumpy and had discolored the pages where he had pushed, trying to flatten the bloom.

After his fourth reading of the letter, he donned his hat and coat and quickly set off toward Rosings. Lady Catherine would know what to do. She would be able to give him the advice that he needed. She would not be happy knowing that Mr. Bennet was trying to break his betrothal by pretending that it had never taken place. Mrs. Bennet knew. Of course she did. She would be able to back him up. She would tell the truth to Lady Catherine and Lady Catherine would insist that the marriage take place.

He was shown into Lady Catherine's drawing room, one of them anyway, and was directed to sit in a chair at a safe distance from her.

"Mr. Collins," Lady Catherine said. "You are very red in the face. You look as if you have been running. That kind of behavior is not dignified in a clergyman."

"I have been hurrying, not to say that I have been running, although when you hear of my problems, you will agree that under the circumstances, running would be justified. I say this because I am in great need of your most excellent advice. If it had been anything short of an emergency, I would have made my way to Rosings in a most sedate manner. Yes, most sedate. As it is . . . "

"Yes, yes," Lady Catherine interrupted. "Exactly what kind of advice are you in need of?"

Mr. Collins stood up and handed Lady Catherine the offending letter. She stared at him, waiting for him to return to his seat before opening the missive and beginning to read. He held his breath as he saw the expression on her face harden.

"I understood you to say, Mr. Collins," Lady Catherine said harshly, "that you were definitely betrothed to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. This letter would indicate that you are either in error or you have lied to me. Which is it?"

"I thought I was," Mr. Collins mumbled. "I am certain that I was. I mean, I am certain that I am. I can show you the speech that I gave her when I was making my offer." He pulled out the oft studied paper, gone soft from constant folding and unfolding, and got up again to hand it to her. She snatched the paper from his hand and read it.

"Yes, I see," Lady Catherine said when she had finished reading the paper. "It does seem as though there is very little room for misunderstanding, if, in fact, these are the words that you spoke to her."

"Those are the very words that I spoke," Mr. Collins avowed. "I memorized that speech word for word. I will remember it as long as I live. I will show you." Mr. Collins proceeded to recite the proposal that he had written for Lizzy to Lady Catherine.

"There can be no doubt, I see. And indeed, you should have begun with the advantages she will receive by coming under my tutelage. Perhaps had you done so, things would not now be in such a mess. This Mr. Bennet does not appear to be a very serious man."

"No, indeed," Mr. Collins hurried to agree. "Not serious at all. He seems to be treating my betrothal very lightly. I beg to receive your excellent advice. What would you suggest that I do, Your Ladyship?"

"I am afraid," Lady Catherine replied, "that this matter is far too serious and delicate to be settled via the post. No, Mr. Collins, it must be handled face to face. Return to Hunsford and pack your bags. We will travel to Hertfordshire in the Barouche Box as soon as is possible.

IN THE DAYS LEADING UP TO THE dinner party at Netherfield Mr. Bingley called daily at Longbourn, usually quite early in the day. Mr. Darcy, when given the choice of staying at Netherfield with Caroline and Louisa or visiting Longbourn with Mr. Bingley and seeing Lizzy, accompanied Mr. Bingley. The weather being fine for so late in the fall, four young people walked out together. Jane and Mr. Bingley. Lizzy and Mr. Darcy. Lizzy treated Mr. Darcy in a manner that completely astonished him. She attached herself to his side as soon as he arrived, but it was not for flattery. She never once tried to flatter him. Indeed, she teased him at every opportunity. She challenged every word that he uttered. She laughed at him.

Had Mr. Bingley not been so enamored of Jane, had he paid any attention at all to Lizzy and Mr. Darcy, he would have been astonished himself. Laugh at Mr. Darcy? Challenge every word he uttered? Tease him? It was not, however, Lizzy's behavior that would have been the source of his surprise, for he had gotten to know Lizzy well enough to know that she loved a good laugh. No, it was Mr. Darcy's calm acceptance of such behavior that would have shocked and amazed him. Never before had Mr. Darcy allowed such familiarity. Even Lizzy's most barbed comments were met with courtly behavior and often her teasing was met with a smile, while more than once he had joined her in laughter. She found him willing to explain his opinions and beliefs, on occasion even making her see an error in her thinking. She never lost sight of her goal, but it seemed that nothing Lizzy could say or do had the effect she desired. She desired nothing less than to drive him away from Mr. Bingley's side. To London or Derbyshire. It mattered not. Had Lizzy been able to see Mr. Darcy's thoughts she would have been astonished, for every moment in her company had him falling more and more under her spell. He no longer wished only to save her from Mr. Collins. He wished to save her for himself.

THE SUN SHONE BRIGHTLY THE morning of the dinner party at Netherfield. Lizzy looked out of her window with frustration. She watched as Mr. Bingley rode through the gate with Mr. Darcy by his side. Her only consolation was that Mr. Bingley's affections for Jane appeared to be unwavering.

"What will it take?" she muttered at them through the window. "How will I rid Hertfordshire of a certain gentleman?"

"What was that Lizzy?" Jane called through the partly open door. "Did you say something to me?"

"Nothing important Jane," Lizzy replied. "I hope you are almost ready for the day. Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy are nearly to the front door. Mama should begin her screeching in less than a minute."

Jane, who was indeed ready to greet the gentlemen, hurried down the stairs in what had become a daily race to keep their mother quiet. Either Jane or Lizzy rose early each morning to be sure that they and not their mother or sisters were the ones to meet the gentlemen.

The day passed as the days before it had. Jane and Mr. Bingley wandered off by themselves, while Lizzy sparred with Mr. Darcy, never able to ruffle his composure. Lizzy was relieved when the gentlemen returned earlier than usual to Netherfield so that the ladies of Longbourn would have sufficient time to prepare for the evening, even though neither man could find a thing wanting with the sisters.

CAROLINE SPENT EVEN LONGER than was usual preparing herself for the dinner party where she planned to make Mr. Darcy sit up and take notice of her. Her dress was of the finest silk in the latest style and color. She fingered the lace as she admired herself in the mirror. The finest lace, smuggled from France. She had been saving this dress for a very special occasion and she knew that this was to be her evening of triumph, her shining hour.

"How do you do, Mr. Wickham," she said as she curtsied to her image in the looking glass. "It is lovely to see you again so soon. You do remember Mr. Darcy, do you not? Were the two of you not raised together? Oh, Mr. Darcy, we have so enjoyed getting to know your childhood companion. You have been very naughty keeping him from us all this time. You must have known that we would find him irresistible. Come, Mr. Wickham, you shall walk with me to the dinner table. You can tell me all about the pranks that you played on Mr. Darcy when you were boys."

She toyed with the jewels of her necklace. It was a stunning piece. Large and valuable. Nothing at all like the necklaces that the Miss Bennets wore. Such country bumpkins. A gold cross. A ruby cross. Mere trifles. No style. And their clothing. So provincial. Completely out of date. So pallid. No competition at all when it came to style.

"Oh, Mr. Darcy. I do admire Mr. Wickham, but he is nothing to you. Very handsome, indeed, and if I were a less discerning woman, I might find him worthy of my affection. But I do feel that quality counts, do you not agree?"

She took out the small pot of rouge that she kept hidden away from everyone. Nobody, not even Louisa, was aware that she had it. It would not do to have anyone know that she used artificial color, especially Mr. Darcy. Very carefully, she enhanced the color of her cheeks, then dabbed her lips with the rosy paste. She backed away from the mirror slightly so that she could admire the overall view of herself. Perfect. The latest of hair fashions complete with head piece and feathers. No simple curls. No ribbons. No flowers.

She went in search of Louisa and found her in the drawing room, fussing with the flower arrangements.

"Sister," she said as she entered the room. "Tonight is the night. What do you think? Will I do?"

Louisa turned to admire Caroline. "You look stunning. Simply stunning, Caroline. There will be no one, absolutely no one, who can come close to you this evening. Your dress! Your hair! Your jewels! Everything is perfection. You will show these country nobodies what is what. You will set the standard for years to come."

"Yes," Caroline replied, very pleased. "I thought as much, myself. I am sure that Mr. Wickham will be pleased. He was so ready to be pleased the last time we had him to dine."

Louisa giggled. "Yes, he was ready to be pleased. He was most attentive. And I think Mr. Darcy will be pleased, too. He cannot but see how desirable you are tonight, especially when Mr. Wickham begins to pay his attentions to you."

"It is so perfect, is it not?" Caroline said, "Using Mr. Darcy's childhood friend to make him jealous. I wonder we did not think of it before."

"Very clever, indeed, Caroline," Louisa agreed. "The only reason that we did not think of it before, is that we never knew Mr. Wickham until now. Had we known him earlier, we would have used him to make Mr. Darcy jealous sooner."

"Yes," Caroline said. "Now it matters not that his horrid little sister and Charles contrived to keep him away from me. I shall be Mrs. Darcy."

MR. DARCY HAD NOT MEANT to eavesdrop. Truly, he had not. But Caroline had not bothered to close the door to the drawing room when she had gone in search of Louisa and her voice, raised in the excitement of her plot, carried through the hall to where Mr. Darcy was donning his jacket after finishing a game of billiards. He started toward the sound of the voices, coming to a sudden and complete stop outside the open drawing room door when he heard Caroline utter the name, Mr. Wickham. Mr. Wickham. That name stopped him. He felt his stomach drop. He felt as if a cold hand gripped his heart. Mr. Wickham. Being used to make him jealous. Absurd. Did they really think that they could use Mr. Wickham to their own advantage against him? Horrid little sister? Horrid little sister? Georgiana? Charles and Georgiana contrived to keep him away from Caroline?

Mr. Darcy retraced his steps to the billiard room. He carefully closed the door and began to pace. Caroline. George Wickham. His jaw was rigid. His hands were tightened into fists. He wanted to strike out and hit something. Caroline and George Wickham? Ridiculous! A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Completely and utterly ridiculous! Despite his best efforts to remain solemn and think seriously on what he had heard, his mouth continued to twitch toward a smile. He was surprised when he caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the darkened window. The smile was winning. Caroline and George Wickham. The thought was far more than absurd. It was the funniest thing that Mr. Darcy had ever heard. He gave in to his urge to smile and he felt a rumble grow in his chest. He began to laugh. And laugh.

"Let them have each other," he chuckled. "I cannot think of a better match."

LIZZY WANDERED INTO JANE'S bedchamber to watch the last of Jane's preparations for the evening before them.

"I can easily see why Mr. Bingley lost his heart the moment he saw you," Lizzy told her sister. "And tonight, Jane, he will lose his heart all over again. You look even more beautiful than usual. It must have something to do with being in love."

Jane smiled happily at Lizzy. "It is wonderful to be in love. I only wish that you could find such happiness."

Lizzy walked to the window and looked out in the gathering dusk. "I would like to be in love, Jane, but I have not yet met the man that could bring me such happiness. Perhaps it is my own failing. Perhaps if I had your goodness, I would find your happiness."

"You have been spending much time lately with Mr. Darcy," Jane teased. "What do you talk of when you are chaperoning us on our walks?"

Lizzy laughed. "Mr. Darcy? You think that I might be interested in Mr. Darcy or that he might be interested in me? I cannot think of anyone that I am less likely to fall in love with. And I am sure that he dislikes me as much as I dislike him."

"I am sorry to hear that. The two of you look very well together. He is so tall and handsome. And you, Lizzy, although you like to deny it, you are very pretty yourself."

Lizzy looked at Jane with surprise. "While I do agree that his is very handsome, I expect more from the man I fall in love with than good looks. He must be kind and intelligent. He must enjoy a laugh."

"I have heard the two of you sparring. He is intelligent and enjoys laughing, even when the joke is on him. And Charles said that he is the very best of friends and the kindest of brothers."

Lizzy had been careful never to mention Mr. Darcy's attempt to dissuade their father from his approval of Mr. Bingley as Jane's future husband however sorely she was tempted. She knew that she would only cause pain to Jane if she revealed his true nature now.

"Well, Jane, we must agree to disagree I fear. I think that I can safely say that Mr. Darcy is the last man that I could ever marry."

"He looks at you a great deal, Lizzy. Every time that he thinks no one is watching, his eyes are on you."

Lizzy blushed. She was sure that Jane was wrong. Wasn't she? "I am sure he is only watching me in order to find fault."

Jane threw her head back and laughed. "You think that, do you? He looks at you the way Charles looks at me and I am reasonably certain that Charles is not watching me only to find fault."

"Stop it, Jane. Please," Lizzy said. "You must be wrong. You must be." But was she? Was Jane wrong? Lizzy stared out of the window again thinking back to that very morning's walk with Mr. Darcy. It was true that he seemed not to take offense when she teased him and disagreed with him. He had actually laughed when she had made a joke about Caroline Bingley, something that an almost engaged man would never do. Was it possible that he was not tagging along with Mr. Bingley in order to find a way to separate Mr. Bingley from Jane? Was it possible that by attaching herself to Mr. Darcy in the hopes of protecting Jane's engagement, he had formed his own attachment to her? Lizzy shivered at the thought. Impossible! Was it impossible? Did she wish it to be?

Chapter 20

Posted on Thursday, 6 September 2001, at 12:04 a.m.

THE HOUR HAD FINALLY ARRIVED. Mr. Darcy stood in the library of Netherfield looking out at the drive when he saw the first of the carriages arrive. He was sorely disappointed when he realized that the carriage did not belong to the Bennet family. Although the original plan called for a small, intimate dinner party with only several families attending, the plans had changed and grown as Mr. Bingley worried about offending those neighbors that were not invited. Mr. Darcy understood this, perhaps better than Mr. Bingley, as he had lived in a country neighborhood where the society was confined and unvarying. He understood it, yet he would have preferred a dinner party that only he and Lizzy attended.

"Elizabeth . . . . Lizzy," he murmured softly to himself. His reverie was interrupted by the crunch of gravel on the drive as another carriage arrived. Mrs. Long. Although she wasn't technically a mother, her predatory behavior had been well honed. He shuddered as he watched her climb the steps to the entry with her nieces.

"I will be glad," he thought warmly, "when the only woman that I need give my attentions to is Elizabeth. That will be a happy day indeed."

He was relieved that he was not required to receive the guests as they arrived. He wanted the pleasure of waiting privately for Lizzy's arrival to watch her mount the stairs before he joined Mr. Bingley and his sisters in the entryway.

The pace of the arrivals quickened and still no sign of the Bennet party. Mr. Darcy began to pace impatiently, stopping to look out at the drive every time he neared it. After what seemed to him to be an eternity, he saw their carriage turning into the drive. His pacing stopped. He examined his reflection in a mirror. He unsuccessfully tried to smooth his unruly curls by running his fingers through his hair. His curls were the only part of his grooming that escaped perfection. He held his breath as he saw the door to the carriage being opened by the footman. Mr. Bennet emerged first and began to hand his family out. Mrs. Bennet. Miss Jane Bennet. His heart sped up as he saw Lizzy emerge. She adjusted the fall of her cape then looked up at him through the window, catching and holding his gaze. He forced himself to breathe again as she began to mount the stairs. He quickly crossed to the door and hurried down the hall in order to be there to greet her when she entered.

LIZZY CLOSED HER EYES AND listened to the rest of her family chatter away about the upcoming evening. She wished that she had thought to develop a convenient illness. One that would last long enough to use as an excuse not to attend the dinner at Netherfield. A headache. That would have done. An hour or so of lying down with a cold cloth soaked in lavender water over her eyes would have been just the thing. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that her head was beginning to ache.

She opened her eyes as the carriage turned off of the main drive. She stared at the brightly lit house. Before she could think more on Mr. Darcy, the carriage had stopped and her father descended. When at last she was standing beside the carriage, she looked up and saw him watching.

"Oh, my," she whispered. She did not think it had been so loud that anyone else could hear, but Jane must have, because she glanced at Lizzy long enough to see the direction of her eyes, then looked up at the window herself in time to see Mr. Darcy turning away.

Jane took hold of Lizzy's hand and smiled knowingly at her when Lizzy turned back toward her.

"It was not to find fault that he waited in the window for you before turning away," Jane murmured quietly as they climbed the stairs.

LADY CATHERINE HELD THE SQUARE of lace to her nose, trying not to breathe too deeply. The trip from Kent to Hertfordshire was taking longer than she had planned on. Or perhaps it only seemed to be so. Traveling with Mr. Collins was proving to be very tedious. She looked at him closely, wondering as she had been doing for the previous hour if she should be investing so much time and energy on such a man. It had seemed the thing to do when he had shown her the letter from Mr. Bennet. She had, after all, been the one to advise Mr. Collins to take a bride from amongst his unfortunate cousins. It did seem a breech of contract for Mr. Bennet to send such a letter. There could have been no misunderstanding if Mr. Collins had proposed using the words that he had prepared in advance.

Mr. Collins began to speak and Lady Catherine turned her glare upon him, effectively stopping the words before they became fully formed on his lips.

"I have had enough conversation, Mr. Collins" she said with contempt. "We will have quiet until we arrive at your cousin's estate. What is the name of it again?"

Mr. Collins was trying to obey Lady Catherine when she told him to be quiet and now she wanted him to speak. He opened his mouth and managed to squeak, "Longbourn, Your Ladyship."

"What was that, Mr. Collins?" she demanded. "Is there something wrong with your voice? I asked you a question and I expect you to answer me."

He cleared his throat nervously. "Longbourn, Your Ladyship."

"And how far do you suppose we are away from this Longbourn?" she snapped.

Mr. Collins peered out of the window into the darkness looking for something familiar. He was unsure whether he would remember the scenery in Hertfordshire in the daylight and now in the dark, he recognized nothing.

"Did you hear me, Mr. Collins?" she asked.

"I fear that the darkness has made it impossible for me to tell how near we are. Surely we must be nearing it. We have been traveling for so very long."

When, at last, the Barouche Box did arrive at Longbourn, Mr. Collins alit nervously and pounded on the door only to be met by silence. He pounded again and again before the door opened a tiny crack. Mrs. Hill peeked out through the crack.

Lady Catherine called out from the carriage. "What are you speaking of. I must know at once."

Mr. Collins turned away from Mrs. Hill. "It would seem, Your Ladyship, that the family is all from home. They are all attending a dinner party at . . . ." He turned back to Mrs. Hill. "Netherfield. Yes, they have all gone to Netherfield. That is the home of the man who is engaged to Miss Bennet. The Miss Bennet that should have been mine."

Mr. Collins returned to the carriage after giving the coachman instructions on their new destination.

Lady Catherine stared at him. After spending a long day of travel with him, she was no longer sure that she wanted to assist him with his engagement. She was tired of his fawning. Tired of being agreed with. Tired of snapping at him and seeing him flinch. She began to pity the poor young woman. Began to think that the girl's father might be right. A misunderstanding. Yes, a misunderstanding. Not too difficult to imagine given Mr. Collins' intellect.

MR. WICKHAM WAS LOOKING FORWARD to the evening. It would be an evening of triumph for him. He would steal away the woman who was sister to Mr. Darcy's dearest friend. The woman who was almost engaged to Mr. Darcy, if the rumors that he had heard were correct. He had no reason to doubt himself. He had a plan and his plan was brilliant. He had only to lure Miss Caroline Bingley to an isolated spot during the evening and stage a compromising situation. She had been attentive during their previous meetings. Too attentive. There had been something forced in her behavior.

"Perhaps she thinks that Darcy and I are such fast friends that being attentive to me will curry his favor. If only she knew." He could not keep the smile off his face. It was brilliant. Brilliant and perfect.

He had dressed with extra care that evening, glad that his red uniform coat was nearly new. He had been careful of it in the few weeks since his commission and it still was crisp looking and spotlessly clean. He looked over at his fellow officers as they rode up the lighted drive toward Netherfield. Even in the flickering torchlight, he could tell that their uniforms were worn looking. Stained in some cases.

"Yes," he thought. "I will out swagger them all this evening."

"WHERE IS HE?" CAROLINE fumed. She had been stuck in the receiving line since the first carriage had arrived and she had seen no sign at all of Mr. Darcy. This was to be her evening. The evening where all her dreams came true. Perhaps not all, but at least the ones about Mr. Darcy. At the very least.

"Good evening, Mr. Hanford, so kind of you to come," Caroline said, a smile pasted to her face. A smile that was patently false. She cared not if Mr. Hanford was present. She had no interest in Mr. Hanford. His was only a small estate. Nothing that could tempt her. She had thought him rather attractive at one time, but that was only when she first knew him. After she had found out about his small estate and miniscule income, she no longer was interested in his acquaintance. It was rather nice to have an admirer, however.

"No," she thought. "Even if Mr. Hanford does display an avid interest in me, I am for Mr. Darcy."

"Welcome, Mrs. Langley, and Mr. Langley. So delightful that you could be here tonight. Ah, I see you brought your lovely daughters. Hello Miss Langley, Miss Elspeth Langley."

"Mrs. Long, I am delighted to see you and your nieces. Miss Long, Miss Amy Long."

The reception line seemed endless to Caroline. Her face was hurting from all the smiling she was forced to do. And still no Mr. Darcy.

She heard a high pitched laugh from outside the door. A laugh that she had heard before.

"Mrs. Bennet," she though glumly. "Now I have to smile at all of the Bennets. The only one I shall truly be happy to see is Miss Eliza Bennet and only because I am so looking forward to her upcoming nuptials with Mr. Collins." Her mood began to lighten as she thought of that humiliation. When she saw Mr. Darcy materialize beside her brother, her gloom lifted entirely.

"Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Bennet, how glad we are to see you here. And Jane, Miss Eliza and all your sisters, we are delighted you have come."

She saw the look of pure delight on her brother's face and felt her smile slip a little. If only Mr. Darcy had come sooner she knew that her brother would have been saved. As it was she knew she had to prepare herself for an alliance with the Bennets. Ugh! She watched with disbelief at the expression on Mr. Darcy's face. He was smiling. Just like her brother. At Eliza Bennet. Caroline's smile became a grimace. She watched as Mr. Darcy gave his arm to Lizzy and walk away into the crowded ballroom. The elation that she had felt only seconds before turned to agony. Eliza Bennet and Mr. Darcy. How could it be born? It could not be.

Caroline felt Louisa's elbow in her side as she stood dumbly watching the back of Mr. Darcy's head. She turned her head to see the first of the officers enter the front door.

"Colonel Forster, Mrs. Forster, delighted to see you."

"Mr. Wickham, you have arrived at last. Now the evening is complete." Caroline smiled as best she could into his handsome face. He was her best hope. He was the one that would show Mr. Darcy how desirable she was. It was a perfect plan. She was counting on it. Her best hope. Her last hope.

Chapter 21

Posted on Sunday, 27 January 2002, at 9:42 p.m.

CAROLINE REACHED TO TAKE the arm that Mr. Wickham offered just as the door was opened once more and Lady Catherine swept in followed closely by Mr. Collins. Caroline nearly shouted in her excitement when she saw the latecomers. Lady Catherine. Mr. Darcy's aunt. Lady Catherine and Mr. Collins. Mr. Darcy's aunt and Eliza Bennet's betrothed. What could be better? Nothing at all. Not a single thing! Caroline could not think of any two more welcome additions to her dinner party, unexpected though they were. Between the two of them, Eliza Bennet would be taken care of in a most public and humiliating manner. It would be perfect. Absolutely perfect. The smile when she greeted the two was as genuine a smile as had ever graced her face.

"We are so honored to have you attend our dinner, your Ladyship," Caroline simpered. "I beg you to overlook our lapse. Your invitation would have been the first one delivered had we known you would be in Hertfordshire this evening."

"And who, may I ask, are you?" Lady Catherine glared at Caroline pointedly.

"M. . . .Miss Bingley, Miss Caroline Bingley your Ladyship," Caroline answered, her smile slipping slightly.

"Ah, the tradesman's daughter," Lady Catherine said dismissively. "I am here to see Mr. Bennet. I believe that that gentleman is attending your little get together." There was no mistake about the emphasis that Lady Catherine put on the word gentleman. Tradesman's daughter. Gentleman. Little get together. Caroline wanted to cry. She reached out and grasped Louisa's hand. Louisa had heard the whole exchange and jumped to Caroline's assistance.

"Yes, your Ladyship," Louisa said. "Mr. Bennet has arrived. I will show you to the library while my sister finds him, if that would be acceptable to you."

"That will do, but be quick about it," Lady Catherine snapped.

Caroline watched as Louisa and Lady Catherine started toward the library trailed by Mr. Collins before turning to begin her search for Mr. Bennet. She had forgotten Mr. Wickham who continued to wait by her side. She was startled by his lack of color and the grim look on his face.

"Mr. Wickham," Caroline asked with concern. "Are you all right? You look as if you had seen a ghost."

Mr. Wickham stood speechless for several long moments, thankful that Lady Catherine had not so much as glanced in his direction. He needed to think. Needed to assess the danger. "I, um, I seem to have developed a sudden headache, Miss Bingley. Perhaps there is somewhere that I might sit quietly for a few moments before dinner is served."

"Of course, Mr. Wickham," Caroline replied. She ushered him into a small morning room, then set off in search of Mr. Bennet.

MR. BENNET WAS BUSY BEING bored by his good friend and neighbor, Sir William Lucas. Mr. Bennet sighed when he thought about his friends. It had been a very long time since he had had a bracing conversation with someone of his own intellect, someone other than Lizzy.

While he listened to Sir William drone on, his eyes swept the room looking for his favorite daughter. He soon spotted her standing stiffly next to Mr. Darcy, a strained look on her face.

He was pretending to listen to Sir William, while still watching Lizzy and Mr. Darcy when he became aware of Caroline breaking into Sir William's conversation.

"Mr. Bennet," Caroline said. "You are needed in the library. Lady Catherine de Bourg and Mr. Collins have arrived and wish a word with you."

"Lady Catherine and Mr. Collins," he thought with delight as he his hostess through the crowded room. "My letter must have had quite an impact, it would seem. They wasted no time in coming. I believe I shall have some entertainment this evening after all."

TIMOTHY HANFORD WATCHED every move that Caroline Bingley made. He had decided. Tonight would be the night. It would be the night, that is, if he was able to capture Caroline's attention long enough. Tonight he would let her know in no uncertain terms, that he wished to court her. He had hinted to her before that he was interested in her, but although she had been polite and charming, she had apparently not understood his hints. He would have to do more than hint at his intentions. He would have to give her a demonstration that would leave her in no doubt about the violence of his affections for her.

"She is too open and artless," he thought fondly. "She does not play the games that other young women seem to play. So refreshing to find such a lovely young woman unspoiled by society."

LIZZY STOOD NEXT TO Mr. Darcy wondering if Jane's words had any basis in truth. "He did not look at you to find fault," Jane had said.

"Exactly what does that imply?" Lizzy thought. "That he looks at me with favor? Jane is mistaken. She refuses to see anything but good in anyone. She must be mistaken! He only spends time with me because he is forced to if he is to maintain watch over his friend. He must be forming a plan. A plan to separate Jane from Mr. Bingley. There can be no other explanation."

As she watched Mr. Darcy warily, she became aware of a commotion across the room. She turned her attention away from Mr. Darcy to watch Caroline Bingley interrupt Sir William Lucas and motion to her father.

Caroline and her father? Something was definitely wrong. Caroline had never, would never approach and converse with her father or for that matter, Sir William Lucas. She watched a sly smile, a self-satisfied smile, split her father's face. Something was very definitely wrong. She watched as Caroline walked away with her father following closely behind.

"Something seems to be afoot," Mr. Darcy said close to Lizzy's ear, causing her to startle. "Your father and Miss Caroline Bingley are the last two people who I can imagine having business together at a formal dinner."

Lizzy gasped, taken aback by Mr. Darcy's familiarity. Her mind went blank at the sound of his whispered words and the warm breath on her ear and neck. She felt herself begin to blush. She turned her head and stared at him, speechless.

Mr. Darcy had not meant to discomfit Lizzy. He had hoped to tease her, to make her smile as she had grown accustomed to teasing him and making him smile. He watched her reaction with concern.

"Miss Bennet," he said quietly as he took her arm firmly in his. "I believe that you would benefit from a little cool air." He guided her toward a set of doors that opened onto a balcony. The weather was cold, but there was no wind or rain. He hoped to find privacy for Lizzy to regain control of her senses. That they would be alone together he knew was improper, but it could not be helped. Lizzy needed him. He smiled to himself. Previously obsessed with propriety, he realized that he preferred his new obsession with Lizzy far more.

LADY CATHERINE ORDERED Mr. Bennet to take the chair closest to her. He greeted her with a bow and sat beside her.

"Mr. Bennet," Lady Catherine began. "I will cut straight to the chase. There seems to be some misunderstanding about Mr. Collins' engagement to your daughter. I have heard what Mr. Collins has to say and if what he says is true, I find your letter to him most confusing. What do you have to say for yourself? Are they engaged? Did you or did you not give him permission to marry your daughter, Miss Elizabeth Bennet? Are you able to shed new light on this situation?"

"I distinctly recall my conversation with Mr. Collins, Your Ladyship, and at no time did I ever give him permission to marry my daughter. He told me that his compliments made Lizzy smile and that she had given him a flower, which is not too surprising as she was seeing to the flower arrangements in the still room. To the best of my recollection, that was the sum total of our conversation."

Lady Catherine studied Mr. Bennet; then turned her sights on Mr. Collins. On one hand she saw a gentleman of obvious intelligence. On the other, she saw Mr. Collins. After having spent a full day shut in the carriage with Mr. Collins, she knew without a doubt that there had never been any engagement.

"Mr. Bennet," Lady Catherine muttered, glaring at Mr. Collins who cowered before her. "This fool is your cousin, is he not?"

"I am sorry to have to admit it, your Ladyship, but you are correct. Mr. Collins is my cousin," Mr. Bennet replied. "It is very sad that one cannot choose one's own relations, is it not?"

"So we are in agreement, then, Mr. Bennet. Your daughter is not engaged to Mr. Collins." Lady Catherine paused slightly before continuing. "Do you suppose that there is any reason to hope that she would accept him if he actually asked her?"

Mr. Collins broke into the conversation. "But I did ask her. I am almost sure that I did. And she was most civil and attentive to me in return."

"Mr. Collins," Lady Catherine snapped, "that will be quite enough. Now Mr. Bennet, would she accept him?"

"I very much fear, Lady Catherine, that there is no hope for Mr. Collins suit at all. Lizzy, you see, is a very sensible girl."

"And is there any reason to hope that another of your daughters would look on his suit with favor?" Lady Catherine asked hopefully.

"I do have several very silly daughters left unmarried, your Ladyship," Mr. Bennet replied. "I believe that my daughter Mary might be convinced to consider Mr. Collins as a potential."

"And you would give your permission?" she asked.

"Oh," he replied, "I think they would get on very well together. It would be a most suitable match. Mary would be most appreciative of the honor both you and Mr. Collins would bestow upon her by your association with her."

Lady Catherine turned her attention back to Mr. Collins, who had been waiting passively after his rebuke from his benefactress.

"Did you hear that, Mr. Collins?" Lady Catherine demanded. "Miss Mary Bennet is the one that you will pay court to."

Mr. Collins coughed and sputtered for several moments without answering. She narrowed her eyes in irritation.

"Mr. Collins?"

"Yes, your ladyship," he said meekly. "Miss Mary Bennet."

Outside the door that had been left purposely ajar, Caroline huffed in irritation. "No engagement," she fumed to herself. "No humiliation for Miss Elizabeth, the milkmaid."

"Miss Bingley," she heard behind her, startling her and causing her to stumble into the door, shutting it with a loud thud. She turned to face the smiling man who had addressed her. She composed herself as best she could before speaking. The sound of the closing door echoed in her mind. She needed to get far away from the scene of her eavesdropping.

"Mr. Hanford," she said. "Would you be so kind as to accompany me back to the drawing room. I believe that it is nearly time for dinner to begin.

Chapter 22

Posted on Monday, 10 March 2003

THE COLD AIR WAS enough to bring Lizzy back to her senses. With a jerk of her arm, she managed to break Mr. Darcy's hold, spinning to face him.

"What exactly are you about, sir?" she demanded. She was unwilling to put aside her suspicions just yet and although the dress she wore offered little protection from the brisk evening air, she was determined to have an explanation of Mr. Darcy's intentions.

"You seemed to be distressed, Miss Bennet," he replied. "I thought you might benefit from some fresh air and privacy in order to compose yourself."

Lizzy was glad for the cold air and the relative darkness of the terrace in order that Mr. Darcy should not see the flush on her cheeks as she thought about the sensation of his warm breath on her neck. "I was surprised by having you whisper in my ear, but that is not what I was asking. What are you about as concerns my sister Jane and your friend, Mr. Bingley? I have been aware for some time that Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst view you as their best hope at saving their brother from the clutches of my sister. I have heard them say as much when they were not aware I was within their hearing. I know how great a value Mr. Bingley places on your friendship and how closely you have attended him since you have been in Hertfordshire. I repeat, what are you about, sir?" Lizzy folded her arms around herself as a gust of cold wind caused her to shiver.

"Miss Bennet, you are cold and my explanation is likely to take some time," Mr. Darcy said. "Allow me to escort you inside and attempt to find somewhere private and warm for our discussion."

Lizzy would like to have stayed in the darkness, but she had to admit the wisdom of his words. She was cold and getting colder by the second.

MR. WICKHAM NERVOUSLY PACED the small parlor that Caroline had seen him to. He had had a severe shock when Lady Catherine had entered Netherfield. He had no fear of Mr. Darcy. Indeed, he looked forward to besting him; for he knew that Mr. Darcy, even when seething with anger, would be loathe to create a scene. He was prepared for Mr. Darcy, but Mr. Wickham feared, no, he was positive, that Lady Catherine would have no such scruples about causing a scene. He suspected that the old battle-axe would likely take great enjoyment from airing all his sins, not the least of which was the information that he was but the son of Mr. Darcy's steward. Yes, he would have to proceed with much greater care than he had originally anticipated.

He crossed to the window and looked out into the darkness, startled when he saw movement on the terrace. Two people were there, a man and a woman, the man holding the woman's arm, leading her. He gasped as they got near enough for him to see their faces in the dim light. His nemesis, Fitzwilliam Darcy was with Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

"Now, that is unexpected," he whispered. "What can they be up to? He is as good as engaged to Miss Caroline Bingley and yet there he is, sneaking around in the darkness with Miss Bennet."

He watched with great interest as Lizzy pulled out of Mr. Darcy's grasp. He could not hear their words, but she was very visibly upset. He silently opened the door to the terrace so that he could overhear their conversation.

"Allow me to escort you inside and attempt to find somewhere private and warm for our discussion."

Mr. Wickham eased the door shut and pondered what he had overheard. Somewhere private and warm. Miss Bennet, Mr. Darcy? They were the last two people in Hertfordshire that he could imagine together. Oh, he knew that Mr. Bingley was engaged to Lizzy's sister Jane, but he also knew that Mr. Darcy was a proud man who would never consider an honorable alliance with a woman so far beneath his station.

He smiled as an entirely new plan began to form in his head. Oh, it would be wonderful. He would trap Mr. Darcy into marriage with the last woman in the world he would ever think to marry and he would thumb his nose at that old witch, Lady Catherine, at the same time. He had been in the company of Mrs. Bennet often enough to know that it would be torture for Mr. Darcy to be her son-in-law. A compromising situation. This was perfect. Then he, George Wickham, could take his time courting Miss Bingley. Miss Bingley and her lovely twenty thousand pounds. He would definitely enjoy marrying Miss Bingley and, of course, all that money. Not only would he marry the woman that Mr. Darcy planned to marry, he would at the same time, saddle Mr. Darcy with the Bennet family. What could possibly be improved upon? Not one thing. The most perfect, sweetest revenge imaginable.

He dared not follow them out onto the terrace. It would have to be done from inside the house. He crossed to the door and opened it far enough to see out in the hall. Even from the back, he recognized Caroline and knew at once that she was listening at the door. He hesitated, wondering who and what she was listening to. This was good. This was wonderful. This was secret knowledge and with secret knowledge came power. He could hold this secret knowledge above Caroline's head. As he hesitated, a man walked by the door he was peeking out of to the door that Caroline was peeking into. He eased his door closed after he saw Caroline stumble and heard the thud of the door closing.

MR. COLLINS OPENED the door to begin his search for Mary as Lady Catherine had directed him to do. Not that he wanted to. He most definitely was not interested in Miss Mary Bennet. Why, she was . . . she was . . . she was Mary Bennet. She was interested in sermons. She actually read books of sermons. Her favorite author was Fordyce. She read the Bible. She actually read the Bible and understood it. And she most definitely was not Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Miss Elizabeth Bennet, his betrothed. He was sure that he had offered her a proposal of marriage. Almost sure. He could even remember the words that he had so carefully written out following Lady Catherine's instructions. He should be able to remember them. She had been explicit about what he was to say. She had made him promise to practice the words. And he had practiced. Over and over again.

He wanted to slam the door behind him, he was that upset, but he found he could not dare to be so bold with Lady Catherine sitting right there in the room so he closed it quietly. So quietly, in fact, that the couple walking arm-in-arm back toward the drawing room were unaware that he was following them. So quietly that when he drew even with the door standing slightly ajar down the passageway he found himself peering directly into a startled eye. That door quickly closed again, but not before Mr. Collins caught sight of a red uniform coat.

Mr. Collins paused as he contemplated the significance of the eye behind the door. Someone was spying! He was being spied upon. But why? Why would someone spy upon him? Did he know something that he was unaware of knowing? He wracked his brain to remember. He was an important man, after all. Personal clergyman and protégé to Lady Catherine. That must be it. There must be something he knew that he had forgotten. If only he could remember. Perhaps it was something of great importance to the crown. And just who was that soldier spy. A soldier spying against England and for France. It must be. He would have to discover the fiend and save England. He would be honored for bravery. Maybe even be knighted. Sir William Collins. Then Cousin Elizabeth would be sorry about this betrothal mix-up. Then she would be sorry that Lady Mary Collins, her sister, had received the great honor of becoming his wife.

Instead of continuing on to the drawing room to search out Mary, Mr. Collins opened the next door down, on the opposite side of the corridor and slipped inside, leaving the door slightly ajar in order to catch out the dangerous French spy that had been laying in wait for him. He would show everyone. He would!

CAROLINE PLACED HER had on Mr. Hanford's proffered arm. Annoyed as she was by his continued attention and the sudden headache of Mr. Wickham, she decided that a bird on the arm was worth two in the bush. Or something like that. Mr. Hanford did not have the advantage of being Mr. Darcy's oldest and dearest friend as did Mr. Wickham. However, he was at hand and he was looking at her with adoring eyes. Until Mr. Wickham recovered from his sudden indisposition, she would have to make do with using Mr. Hanford to make Mr. Darcy jealous. It might work almost as well. Maybe even better. Mr. Hanford was more than acceptable looking. Why, he was nearly as handsome as Mr. Darcy. Well, perhaps not quite nearly. After all, Mr. Darcy was perfection, but Mr. Hanford was very nice looking, indeed. Every bit as handsome as Mr. Wickham and he had the advantage of already being at her side. And then there was his income. Caroline understood that his income rivaled Charles'. She knew positively that Mr. Wickham's income could not compete. Five thousand a year was nothing compared to Mr. Darcy's, but it was enough to give Mr. Hanford the appearance of being a serious suitor.

Caroline turned to look at Mr. Hanford as they approached the door leading to the drawing room, just as Mr. Hanford turned to look at her. She felt a tingle in the pit of her stomach as their eyes met. Oh, dear. He did have beautiful eyes. And his smile. His smile made her toes want to curl. Oh, yes. He would be just the right person to make Mr. Darcy jealous. Mr. Darcy would be sorry that he was so slow in making his declaration to her. Mr. Hanford would smile at her and she would smile back at him and Mr. Darcy would be left out in the cold. It would be perfect. Mr. Darcy would never forgive himself. But it would be too late and Caroline would have the last laugh. She would teach that Mr. Darcy a thing or two.

She was smiling back at Mr. Hanford when they passed through the doorway into the drawing room, Mr. Wickham and Mr. Darcy completely forgotten.

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