The Lost Year

Prologue

Gradually she regained consciousness.

The first thing she became aware of was a splitting headache like she'd never felt before. She wanted to lift a hand to her head, but just the attempt caused such overall pain that she caught her breath on a strangled cry, which even to her sounded more like a gentle puff. She knew for sure that something was wrong with her, though she had no idea what it was; she couldn't move and obviously couldn't talk, but why?- Panic set in.

Distant sounds reached her ears- sirens, screeching brakes, banging car doors, shouting voices. The panic increased- she didn't know what had happened or where she was. Apparently unable to make her presence known to anybody, she felt utterly alone. Tom! Tom would help her; but where was he? She had to take a look.

When she tried to open her eyes, a stabbing pain shot through her head that made her dizzy. Ignoring it, she put all her willpower into the effort of lifting her lids and succeeded, if only marginally. The brightness, though misty, stung her eyes and tears welled up instantly, blurring her vision even more. With the intrusion of light, the noises surrounding her grew louder, as if opening her eyes had sharpened her hearing. Impulsively she wanted to go back to darkness and silence and felt her lids begin to droop. Only by telling herself that she had to find Tom could she force them to stay open. There were lights in different colors and shadows rushing back and forth seemingly busy, but she couldn't make out any details; couldn't see Tom.

Still at a loss as to what the commotion around her was all about, she felt totally alone and abandoned without him. Then a thought crossed her mind: people!- These shadows had to be other people and Tom would be with them. Relief washed through her. But did they know she was there? Did Tom know? Had he been with her? Again fear gripped her and her heartbeat accelerated. She had to attract their attention, but didn't know how. By now her whole body was wrapped up in racking pains, rendering her incapable of thinking logically.

Slowly her eyelids closed and she was on the verge of giving herself up to the alluring darkness when she was pulled back by someone talking right into her left ear: "Hello Lovely? Can you hear me? Can you open your eyes again? Don't be afraid- we will help you- you'll be alright!"

The darkness retreated immediately, her fear dissolved and relief returned; they'd found her. Surely Tom had told them where to find her; she was safe. She wanted to respond to the soothing voice, wanted to laugh, wanted to cry, wanted to see Tom- all at once, but her strength was completely spent.

Then she heard another voice: "Hello Love, can you hear me? I have to check up on you, but I'll try to be gentle."

Check-up? She could feel hands touching her all over. A doctor? They squeezed and pinched. Lights? Sirens? Before she could come to a coherent conclusion, her tangled thoughts were interrupted violently by a wrenching pain in her left side. She wanted to cry out- to back off, but knew at the same time that she couldn't do anything to fend off the hands that caused such agony. Darkness clouded her senses once again when the exploration of her body suddenly stopped and the voice came back to her: "Shhh, it's alright, I know it hurts. I'll give you something to ease the pain before we move you."

She felt a slight twitch in her right arm and one last lucid thought formed in her head: Thank you, Tom. And she felt herself floating into blissful oblivion.

Chapter 1

"Tom!"

Elizabeth sat up in bed bolt upright, desperately gasping for breath, fighting the constriction in her lungs. Disorientated, she tried to permeate the darkness around her with eyes wide open. Where was she? Why wasn't Tom there?

She shook her head to clear her senses from the drowsiness of sleep and thus layer by layer reality returned. Slowly she became aware of her surroundings. This wasn't her apartment in London- she was at Longbourn, her father's home, the place where she'd grown up. And Tom was gone, he would never come back. There had been an accident and he'd been killed; not that she remembered any of it. All she could remember was pain, agonising pain and needing Tom to relieve it. She had dreamed about it again, and as always had been awakened by her own voice crying out for him.

She didn't have to look at the alarm clock to know what time it was- 3:05 in the morning- meaning she'd slept for only three hours. Exhausted she wanted to lie down again, but came back up immediately when she felt the cool dampness of the sheets beneath her. She started shivering, only now to notice how uncomfortable she was with her pyjamas clinging tightly to her sweat covered body. She'd need a hot shower and a change of clothes. Heaving a sigh, she switched on the light on her bedside table and freed herself from the twisted sheets to climb out of bed. She knew anyway that she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep on a night like this, but it would have been nice just to cuddle up in the warmth and relax, as she occasionally did- maybe even doze a little. Considering the messy state of her bed, she'd have to change the sheets first- something she didn't feel up to doing right now.

She shrugged, crossed her room to the chest of drawers on the opposite wall and took out clean pyjamas. Clamping them under her left arm, she made her way to the bathroom.

Of course he understood that she wanted to live her own life, but till this day he'd refused to acknowledge it. And although he was truly happy for her, he couldn't help but feel like he was losing her, too. One by one the people he loved had left him, making him feel like the loneliest creature in the world.

As always Robert's first impulse was to jump out of bed and rush to her side to hold and comfort her. He'd done that when he had witnessed her nightmares for the first time, shortly after she'd returned home from hospital. Elizabeth's reaction couldn't have surprised him more- she'd fought his embrace, had even yelled at him to leave her alone. Though she hadn't offered a satisfying explanation for her behaviour, he knew now that after waking up from a bad dream, she needed to get back her bearings and regain her senses- tasks she could only accomplish on her own. His mind understood her arguments, but his heart still hurt from the certainty that he couldn't do more to help her. Resolutely he suppressed these feelings, knowing full well that it wouldn't do any good to dwell upon them.

Instead he relaxed into his cushion and pondered his options. He was fully awake by now, so sleep was out of the question. Should he stay in bed and read, or should he get up- to do what? He smiled to himself- as if the decision was his to make! Of course it depended solely on Elizabeth. When he heard the shower being turned on in her bathroom, he closed his eyes and waited.

Not very much later he was roused from a slight doze by the sound of Elizabeth's footsteps leading down the stairs to the first floor. The decision had been made- breakfast it was. He sat up and rubbed his face with his hands, then passed them through his hair- or what was left of it. Smirking at his self-mockery, he climbed out of bed, slid into his slippers and grabbed for his robe.

Upon entering the kitchen, Robert was met by the smell of fresh coffee emanating from the hissing machine on the counter. Elizabeth was leaning against the cupboards with her head bent, apparently concentrating on preparing toast, bacon and eggs. Without turning around, she greeted him: "Good morning, Papa. Take a seat, breakfast will be ready in just a few minutes."

She winced at the false cheerfulness in her voice, and being certain that her father had heard it, too, ducked her head even more. He came up beside her and hooked his forefinger under her chin to lift her face up to him. At the sight of her paper-white complexion and the dark circles under her slightly bloodshot eyes his brow furrowed in concern. Elizabeth managed a crooked halfsmile, brushed his hand aside and hugged him tightly. Hugging her back, Robert kissed the top of her head tenderly.

"Oh, Lizzy darling, I wish I could do something to help you. I feel so useless."

She tilted her head and rested her chin on his chest to look up at him.

"Don't, Papa, please. You do so much for me. You let me live here, you gave me a job and you are always there for me, despite my sometimes insufferable moods. There's nothing else to do." She leaned back a few inches to gaze at him intently. Placing a hand on his cheek, she said softly: "You can't help me remember."

His sadness was evident when he hung his head and hoarsely replied: "I know that, but still..." his voice faded away. A few seconds ticked by in silence. Then he cleared his throat and took a deep breath. Straightening, he deliberately pushed away the unwelcome sentiment that had threatened to overcome him. He looked back at his daughter, and with a twinkle in his eyes and a mischievous grin he said: "Speaking of moods..."

Elizabeth chuckled, thankful that the uncomfortable moment was gone. Robert's heart swelled with joy when he saw her smiling- it did not happen often these days. Taking her by the shoulders, he turned her to the dining alcove and gave her a slight push.

"Now- you go sit down and I'll get breakfast ready."

While he busied himself with pans and plates and coffee cups, he heard her groaning with relief as she sat down. His concern returned- in fact, it never really disappeared, just lurked beneath the surface- but he tried hard not to show it too often because he knew it made her uneasy. With that in mind, he usually suppressed his urge to ask about her well-being. Today would be one of the rare exceptions, though. Today it would be impossible for him to keep his mouth shut. When breakfast was ready, he put everything on a tray and brought it to the table.

Elizabeth sat there, legs tucked up, head resting on her knees and watched him. She knew beyond a doubt that there was more to come, they were not done for today. She waited for Robert to sit down across from her before she looked him directly in the eye and lifted her brows in question.

He sighed. "Can you read my thoughts?"

Unfolding her legs, she sat up straight and smiled faintly. "I don't have to. Go ahead- ask." Robert took a sip of coffee and then curled his fingers around his mug. "You look extremely tired today."

"That's not a question."

Annoyance rose up inside him and he had a hard time not to show it. He decided to ignore her reply and trying to keep his voice even, he asked: "Are you in pain, Lizzy?"

She folded her arms across her chest and looked at him squarely. "Why do you think so?"

"Damn, Elizabeth," he exploded, jumped up from his chair and started to pace the room, "Is it really so difficult for you to give me a straight answer? You don't need to get defensive with me- I won't do you any harm! Why can't you be honest with me just for once! A simple question requires a simple answer, nothing more, nothing less." His anger was spent as quickly as it had built and he turned to the cupboards to rest his forehead against the cool surface.

Elizabeth was completely taken aback by her father's sudden outburst. Rarely had she seen him that angry. But he was right, wasn't he? Hadn't she constantly avoided his questions? During recovery and therapy she'd had to explain her thoughts and feelings to so many people over and over again, that one day she'd simply had enough- it hadn't helped improve her condition, anyway. Even as she thought about it, she realised that she'd never explained any of this to her father- she'd just told him to leave her be and he'd stuck to her demand without question. No wonder he had finally lost his patience with her.

Slowly she got up from her chair and went over to him. She embraced him from behind, closing her eyes and resting her cheek on his back.

"I'm so sorry, Papa. It's all my fault."

Robert turned around in her arms and put his hands on her shoulders. When she looked up at him, she was dismayed to see how evidently his age of almost 60 was written on his face and her guilty conscience hit her full force. He started to say something, but she interrupted him before he could utter a word.

"No, Papa. It is my fault. Come on, let's sit down again, and I promise to answer all your questions as best I can." With that she led him back to the dining alcove, where they sat down side by side, holding hands and talking.

Chapter 2

While Elizabeth and Robert spent the rest of the sleepness night in agreeable togetherness, the same thing could not be said about William Darcy.

He'd been staring out of the bedroom window in his London penthouse for hours, hardly being aware of the sky above and the city beneath him. Usually he woud represent the perfect picture of composure and sedateness, but not tonight. Another ton had been added to the load already resting upon his shoulders, and now it pressed down on him so hard that he was afraid he would stumble and fall. His face was pale with exhaustion, his eyes burned, his head hurt; actually he hurt all over- from desperation and loneliness.

Relief flooded through him when he heard someone enter the apartment. Quickly he crossed the room and rushed into the hall.

"Georgiana!"

His sister flew into his open arms, nearly knocking him over.

"Oh, Will, Will, I came as fast as I could," she exclaimed and buried her tear-stained face in his chest. "What are we going to do without Dadd?"

He patted her head and finally started crying, unable to hold back any longer. "I don't know, Georgie, I don't know."

For a while they just stood there, clinging tightly to each other, mourning their father's death.

When the initial onslaught of grief had finally subsided, William hooked an arm around his sister's waist, and with a soft "come on" led her to the living room. After settling her down on the sofa, he went to take a blanket from a nearby armchair and sitting down next to her, draped it over both of them. As he closed his eyes, he gently drew her head to his shoulder and put his arms around her, thus trying to give, as well as seek, some comfort.

Georgiana gladly relaxed into William's embrace. After his call her in the evening, she had almost immediately jumped into her car and driven all the way from Glasgow, hardly ever stopping on the way. Shock, grief and lack of sleep had left her so tired, she couldn't have moved of her own volition- if not for her brother's initiative, they would still be standing in the hall. Despite her fatigue, her reeling mind wouldn't allow her to find any rest. Although she knew her father was gone, part of her refused to believe it, refused to believe she would never see him again, never hear his voice again. It had happened so unexpectedly- only two days ago she'd talked to him on the phone about their plans for Christmas. He had been so looking forward to spending the holidays with his children at Pemberley. But now it was never to be. True, he'd had a weak heart for years having once had myocarditis, but after his first heart attack two years ago he had completely retired from the company, had ever since lived a quiet, secluded life. Nevertheless, his heart had given out- and she had not been with him. Not trusting her voice, she carefully cleared her throat before asking quietly: "Do you think he suffered a lot?"

William's eyes snapped open in surprise. "I thought you were sleeping."

She sniffed and rubbed her forehead. "I can't- not yet."

William took a long, shuddering breath. "I don't know how much he suffered, or if he suffered at all. Brooks told me that it all happened very fast, so I think...I hope, he didn't have to endure too much pain."

"Mr Brooks was with him?"

"Yes, and Mrs. Brooks, too. They were sitting in the study over some estate business, and Mrs Brooks had just brought them tea. She was on her way out, when Dad suddenly clutched his chest and fell to the floor, already unconscious."

"Oh my God," Georgiana whispered, her voice thick with tears.

William tightened his embrace on her, fighting hard against the knot in his throat. "They called an ambulance, and he was rushed to St. Mary's. Brooks went with him. By the time they arrived, Dad had gone into cardiac arrest. The doctors did their best- to no avail. He was declared dead an hour later."

Huge tears trickled down Georgiana's face while she listened to her brother's quiet narration. "At least he wasn't all alone when it happened, but I so wish I could have been with him."

"Me too, Georgie."

Too weary for further conversation, they lapsed into silence again. The over-exertion of both, body and mind finally took its toll, and they drifted into dreamless sleep.

William jerked awake and blinked several times to orientate himself. It took his sleep-dazed brain a few moments to register the surroundings...the living room. He was sprawled awkwardly on the sofa with Georgiana's head resting in his lap. Georgiana? The second he saw his sleeping sister, reality returned full force- their father was dead!

William closed his eyes against the renewed surge of grief. Taking a deep breath he violently suppressed the scream he felt rising in his chest. He struggled desperately to build up his usual self-control which had been dangerously reduced by the overwhelming feelings of loss and pain. By telling himself that he was the one in charge, that he had to turn his thoughts to more pratical matters now, he managed to calm down and felt resolution spread through him.

Gently he moved Georgiana to the side and put a pillow under her head before standing up to stretch his numb legs and rotate his shoulders to work out the kinks. He cast a glance at his watch, assessing he'd slept for only two hours. No wonder he was still tired to the bone and felt slightly dizzy- the pounding in his head adding up to the general feeling of sickness. But it could not be helped- he had to set himself into motion. When he'd assured himself that his sister was tucked in comfortably, he went to his bedroom.

Half an hour later William sat in his study and massaged his throbbing temples. Despite a long shower and two aspirins his headache hadn't lessened.

He had tried to call his secretary Emily and his friend Charles to convey the sad news, but had only reached their answering machines. In both cases he'd left a message asking to be called back as soon as possible, and now he could only wait.

Heaving a sigh of frustration, he leaned back in his leather chair and closed his eyes. Patience had never been one of his greater virtues, but by now it seemed as if he had none at all. He wanted- needed- someone to talk to apart from his sister. They both suffered enormously from the loss of their father, but Georgiana even more so, William thought.

They had lost their mother to cancer almost 20 years ago, though in truth had lost her one year prior to her death when the cancer had been first diagnosed. From then on it had been a constant struggle between life and death for Anne Darcy, leaving her hardly any time for her two-year-old daughter and eleven-year-old son. Naturally the children had turned to their father, especially little Georgiana. She had greatly enjoyed the attention her father was paying her and soon they'd been inseparable, the little girl following him wherever she could.

It hadn't been that easy for William, though. Being a shy and thoughtful child, he was very much like his mother, who was the only one he trusted with his dreams and feelings. They'd formed a very close relationship during the years his father had spent working for hours and hours in his London office to establish his company, returning to Pemberley only for the weekend. Thus Mr Darcy hadn't had the chance to come to know his son well and vice versa, although in a way he'd always loved the boy- and was loved in return.

Though the approach between father and son had been cautious at first, they'd grown closer quite fast out of pure necessity. Full of fear that he might lose his beloved mother, William needed someone to turn to for comfort and reassurance, while his father needed distraction from the fact that the most important person in his life- apart from his children- was fighting an almost hopeless battle, which she was likely to lose.

After pondering his options, Mr Darcy decided to convert his old-fashioned study at Pemberley into a modern office and conduct his business from there, to enable him to better take care of his son and daughter. From then on he'd spent the major part of his time with his children and had gone to London once a week at the most, giving all three of them the opportunity to get used to their new way of life.

Shortly afterward, on a beautiful day in April, Anne Darcy had finally given up to fight for her life and died a peaceful and quiet death in the arms of her beloved husband.

Due to her young age and the fact that she'd gotten used to her mother's absence, Georgiana remained blissfully oblivious to the dreadful event, that left her father and brother desperate and inconsolable. Fortunately the bond between Mr Darcy and his son had already been strong enough to enable them to find comfort in each other and the support they both needed to cope with the painful situation.

Throughout the following years love and understanding between William and his father had grown steadily, but their relationship was never as special to William as the one he had had with his mother. He highly cherished her memory, always holding her in a special place in his heart. Georgiana, on the other hand hardly remembered her mother; her father had always been the only parent she knew and she had been strongly attached to him, loving him unconditionally. And now she had lost him.

William knew that he would have to be strong for his sister, would have to be in control, would have to comfort her, but he was tired- tired of being strong, of being in control. He needed somebody to lean on, somebody to look after him.

His thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the phone. Before it could ring a second time, he'd eagerly picked up the receiver.

Heaving a sigh Charles put down the receiver and ran his hands through his hair. He pushed away from his desk and went to the kitchen in search of Jane. He found her sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and the newspaper. She looked up smiling, but her face turned into a frown when she saw his worried expression.

"Did you talk to William?"

Charles nodded, pulled out a chair from under the table and turned it around to straddle it, crossing his forearms over the backrest.

"Mr Darcy died yesterday evening."

Jane's eyes widened in shock. "Mr Darcy?...But...what happened?"

"A fatal heart attack. The doctors couldn't help."

Jane swallowed hard against the knot in her throat. Trying to steady her voice she took a deep breath. "What about William and Georgie? How are they?"

Tears were brimming in Charles' eyes. "Georgie's devastated, of course. But William..." His voice trailed off as he shrugged his shoulders.

Jane put a hand on Charles' arm, looking at him inquiringly to encourage him to go on. He covered her hand with his and shook his head. "I don't know...We've been friends for so many years now, but I've never heard him sound so tired, so...desperate. As if all of his strength was gone...He talked and talked...so unlike him- but knowing him as I do I can't begin to imagine what he did not say..."

They were both crying openly now. Charles tugged Jane out of her chair and turning on his seat, pulled her into his lap. With eyes closed they embraced each other tightly, remaining silent for a few minutes, both taking time to arrange their thoughts. Jane spoke up first.

"Did he say if he needed anything?"

Again Charles shook his head. "No, nothing. I thought it a good idea to invite them to Netherfield for the weekend, but Will declined. I couldn't persuade him to come."

"Then they're not ready for company, yet. They need some time alone." Extricating herself from Charles' embrace, Jane got up and walked over to the coffeemaker, poured a cup and set it on the table in front of him. "It was much the same with Lizzy, remember? When she learned about Tom's death, she didn't want to see anybody."

"True...Well, at least Will knows that I'm there for him- anytime." He took a sip from his coffee. "I just wish I could do more...It's so frustrating!"

Jane bent down and kissed him gently on the cheek. "I know, dear! But the certainty that you're there for him is all the help he needs right now. -By the way, you did help already."

Charles shot her a doubtful look. She straightened, spreading her arms to emphazise her point.

"You listened!"

He waved his hand as if to brush away her statement. "Oh, that! That's nothing remarkable!"

"It is!" She bristled with indignation. "For the person who needs to talk- and obviously William did. So don't you dismiss it so easily!"

Despite the worries about his friend, Charles couldn't supress a grin as he looked up at Jane. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glistened- gentle Jane in a huff. If he was at times reluctant to acknowledge his own actions, she surely wasn't. He liked that thought very much, indeed. Jane saw the warm expression in his eyes and her frown immediately turned into a loving smile.

Rising from his chair, Charles took her in his arms and kissed her tenderly. However, what was intended to be a light kiss soon turned into something wild and uncontrollable with clashing tongues, stroking hands and moans and groans. When Charles released her mouth to drag hot, wet kisses down her neck, Jane somehow found the strength to push him away a little. Since he was too much engrossed in the pleasurable task at hand, he didn't react immediately. Eventually he sensed her reluctance and drew back to look at her slightly puzzled. "What?" he croaked.

She cleared her throat to steady her voice, knowing exactly that any discernible huskiness would be enough encouragement for him not to let go of her. "We don't have time, dear. We have to be at Longbourn for lunch." The sparkle in his eyes told her that she hadn't made a very good job of concealing her arousal, so she just sighed and gave in when he scooped her up in his arms and muttered: "Forget lunch." With that he resumed kissing her, angling his head so that he could still find his way to the bedroom.

Chapter 3

When Jane and Charles arrived at Longbourn in time for lunch- despite their 'morning interlude'-the backdoor had already been opened for them and they hurried inside to escape the stinging December wind. As soon as they passed the threshold, Mr Bennet came out of the kitchen to greet them affectionately. He helped them take off their coats, then asked them to follow him back to the kitchen, where he busied himself at the cooker.

"Lunch will be ready in about 20 minutes. Charles, beer's in the fridge."

"Thank you, Bob." Charles rubbed his hands in anticipation and went to help himself to a bottle of his favourite beverage, while Jane peered over her father's shoulder into the pot to see what was on the menu. "Mmm, BB's Boeuf! I haven't had that for almost a year!"

"Just shows that you should visit us more often." Mr Bennet pointed out, shooting her a sideways glance. Jane answered with a bashful smile. "I know, Papa, but the job, my friends...well..."

"What is BB's Boeuf?" Charles had come up to stand on Mr Bennet's other side.

"Bob Bennet's Boeuf Stroganoff," Jane explained. "Basically it's beef, onion and mushrooms, but Papa's the only one who knows the other ingredients. It's his secret recipe."

Her father chuckled. "I promise it will be part of you and your sister's inheritance."

"By the way, Papa, where's Lizzy?"

Mr Bennet's face took on a serious expression. "In her room, taking a nap."

"Another bad dream?" Charles asked from his place at the table where he'd made himself at home. "I thought they were gone."

Mr Bennet turned halfway around to be able to continue cooking as well as to look at Charles. "We'd hoped so for a while, but since it was the third one this week..."

"The third!" Jane gasped. "Oh my god, she must be totally worn out!"

Her father nodded. "She is, though by now she will be more hungry than tired considering that we had breakfast at about 3:30 in the morning. Will you go get her, Jane?"

Jane was already on her way out of the kitchen, when she halted abruptly and turned back to Charles. "Oh dear, we almost forgot! Will you tell Papa about Mr Darcy?"

After he nodded his agreement she continued her errand. Running up the staircase, she took two steps at a time, turned left and stopped in front of Lizzy's room.

She opened the door without a sound and stepped in gingerly just to see her sister sitting up in bed stretching and yawning.

"I thought you'd still be asleep." Jane closed the door with a thud, walked over to Lizzy and flopped down beside her. "Hi, little sister."

Lizzy hugged her fiercely. "Hi, Janie! It's good to see you. -My growling stomach woke me up."

Jane giggled. "Then Papa was right. He said as much." Her laughter subsided as she examined her sister's face carefully, noting the paleness and the dark circles under her eyes. "You look very tired."

"Seems I can't get enough sleep these days." She shrugged her shoulders, opting for a casual tone of voice. "It's been a rough week, but nothing unusual. Really."

"Nothing unusual," Jane huffed. "The dreams were gone- for how long? More than a month?"

"Six weeks and five days," Lizzy blurted out, color rising in her cheeks.

Jane covered her sister's hand with her own, her voice full of compassion as she asked: "You hoped they were finally gone?"

Lizzy nodded. "I did- but I should have known better, though I'm not sure what causes them. The last time they occurred that often was in September, around the anniversary of our engagement. That would be understandable. But now...I think maybe it's because of Christmas." She sighed. "I can't get rid of them, so I have to live with them as best I can."

"Have they changed in any way?" her sister asked.

This time Lizzy shook her head. "Not at all- they're always the same." She closed her eyes as she plunged into the world of her nightmares. "I don't know where I am. I can't move, can't talk and I'm in pain; I'm frightened and confused and all alone. Then I hear distant noises, but they make no sense. I want to look for Tom- I need him to help me. I open my eyes. Everything's blurry- I see coloured lights and shadows, but no details. I can't see Tom. But then somebody's by my side, talks to me and touches me. The pain gets even worse and somehow I find the strength to cry out for him." She opened her eyes again, blinking several times to get them back into focus. "That's when I wake up."

Though Jane had heard Lizzy's horrible narrative more than once, it still affected her as it had the first time. To see her sister's distressed expression and hear her strained voice was almost more than she could bear. And she never knew what to say, feeling sure that every word she could find for consolation would sound false and hollow.

As always, Lizzy came to her rescue, patting her shoulder reassuringly. "It's alright, Janie, don't worry. I can manage. -Now, I'd better get ready for lunch." With that, she jumped out of bed and disappeared into her bathroom, leaving Jane alone on the bed.

After a minute she heard Lizzy's voice over the sound of running water. "No news from London?"

Jane stood up and walked over to the bathroom where she leaned against the doorframe. "Well, not from London, actually. But rather sad news from William."

"William?" Lizzy asked around the toothbrush in her mouth.

"William Darcy, Charles' best friend. Do you remember him?"

Lizzy's dripping face came up from the wash-basin and she shot her sister a disbelieving look.

"Do you think I would ever forget such a conceited, proud man?" She asked through the towel she used to dry her face.

"William is not at all conceited and proud!" Jane pushed herself away from the doorframe to stand up straight. "What makes you think so?"

"Oh please, Jane!" Lizzy brushed past her sister to her wardrobe. "I've seen more than once how he behaves- all condescension and haughtiness, too superior to mingle with common people. I never understood how Patricia could fall for him. Neither did Tom, for that matter. William may be Charles' friend, but nevertheless he's a jerk."

Jane couldn't suppress a giggle about her sister's deadpan comment, but she sobered quickly.

"You have a totally false impression of him, Lizzy. Have you ever bothered to look behind his fa硤e? -I don't think so. I'm sure Patricia realised that there's more to him than meets the eye."

"And maybe that's why she left him," Elizabeth prompted, but then she looked back at Jane, a little unsure of herself, "She did leave him, didn't she?"

Jane shrugged impatiently, "I don't know- in fact, nobody knows. But that's not the point, Lizzy. I admit that William seems to be arrogant at times, but in truth he's rather shy, helpful, intelligent and..."

"...and nice to look at, too- I noticed that." She wiggled her eyebrows. "But that doesn't make up for his rudeness!" Dressed in jeans and a warm sweater, she walked over to stand in front of her sister. "So, what's the sad news?"

Jane hung her head, her voice very quiet. "Mr Darcy died yesterday evening of a heart-attack."

"Oh," Lizzy murmered, stuffing her hands into her pockets and looking down at her toes. "He was a very nice man. I'm sorry for his family."

"Yes...Charles spoke with William this morning, and now he's really worried about him."

Mr Bennet's voice was heard from downstairs, interrupting the sisters' conversation. "Jane, Lizzy! Lunch is ready! We're waiting!"

Lizzy took Jane's arm and led her to the door. "Charles shouldn't worry too much. It's always a shock to lose someone you love. I'm sure William will recover in good time."

Late that afternoon Georgiana found her brother in his study. He was leaning against the window frame, his back turned to her, staring out into the darkness as was his habit when he was deep in thought. Georgiana walked over to him and gently put a hand on his arm, careful not to startle him. "William?"

Slowly he turned his head towards her, making her wince as she beheld the state he was in. His ashen face was haggard, his bloodshot eyes unfocused. Anxiety rose inside her and she squeezed his arm to get his attention. "William?"

He looked down at her hand and then back up again, as if he'd just realised she was there, and maybe he had. "Georgie..." His voice was raspy. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did- but what about you? Did you sleep at all?"

William shook his head, the motion making him so dizzy that he swayed slightly. Instinctively Georgiana reached out to steady him with her arms around his waist. "You have to lie down immediately, Will. You're totally exhausted. -Just what did you do all this time?"

Loath to show any weakness, he squared his shoulders and tried to pull away from her, only to realise that his knees were indeed too wobbly to support him. "I was on the phone most of the time. I talked to Charles and Emily and I notified the family about Dad. Now I'm waiting for Richard to call back and give me the name and number of a funeral director he knows."

"I'll take that call. You go to bed now." Georgiana stated decidedly, draping his arm around her shoulders as she began to lead him out of the room.

"And I promised Brooks to come to Pemberley tomorrow to go through Dad's papers," William murmured, already half asleep.

"You will go nowhere without a good night's rest, that's what I promise."

Slowly they made their way to William's bedroom. His weight on her grew heavier with every step they took until she literally had to drag him to his bed. When she finally released him, he toppled over like a felled tree, fast asleep even before his head touched the pillow. Panting she bent over and braced her hands above her knees to control her shaky legs. After taking a few deep breaths she came up again and moved to take off her brother's slippers and tuck him in.

Gingerly she sat down on the bed and contemplated his sleeping form. With her father gone, he was all she had left of her immediate family. The thought of her father brought on a new surge of tears, but she fought them resolutely, refusing to cry anew. She had to think about other things now- her plans, her life, William.

They hadn't parted on good terms when she had gone to Glasgow almost two years ago, since he hadn't agreed with her decision to move in with Chris. He'd argued that she was too young, that she hadn't given the matter enough thought. She'd told him that love was reason enough for her; and so one thing had led to another and soon they had been caught up in a vigorous fight, which she ended by storming out of the door. After that she hadn't seen him for half a year, but in time they managed to establish a fragile truce over the phone by carefully tiptoeing around personal questions in order to maintain peace.

When they met again on his birthday she had been alarmed by the changes he had undergone both in appearance and conduct in so short a time. Loss of weight had made him lean, his face had been haggard with lines of strain edged into it, and she'd glimpsed the first silvery streaks in his dark brown hair. Having never been a very talkative person he seemed to have withdrawn even more. Throughout the entire evening he'd hardly spoken to anyone, giving only short answers when asked for his opinion, but never starting a conversation himself. Not even their persistent cousin Richard had succeeded in coaxing him out of his shell.

Of course her brother had been through a lot recently- he'd completely taken over the company after their father's first heart-attack; he'd had to cope with the fact that she had chosen to live with Chris in spite of his objections and finally, he'd broken up his engagement to Patricia without giving any reasons to his relatives. Altogether good causes to become closemouthed and distrustful, but surely not good enough to lose faith in the family. But this obviously was the case, since her father as well as Richard had told her that William had stopped sharing his thoughts and feelings with either of them. She wondered if he confided in anyone at all.

As she sat there taking in his utterly relaxed face that made him look so young and carefree, all of a sudden realisation dawned and she could have kicked herself for having been so blind- it was so evident! Given his disposition to feel responsible and fiercely protective of those he loved and his determination to do everything for them in whatever way he saw fit, he blamed himself for all the disastrous events of the past. He thought he'd disappointed his family and for that he couldn't forgive himself.

Tears welled up in Georgiana's eyes when at long last the puzzle her brother had been to her formed into a complete picture. Her heart went out to him; she wanted to embrace and cuddle him- tell him that she understood now, that she cared for him as he cared for her. This would have to wait, though, since it was out of the question to wake him. So she contented herself with smoothing away an errant curl from his forehead.

Another unpleasant thought occurred to her: what if William asked her to give up her new life and come back to London? In view of the new insights she had gained, part of her would want to be with him, but the larger part wanted- needed to be with Chris, the man she loved with all her being. Since it was impossible for him to move within the next two years due to his job, it was impossible for her too. Her brother didn't even know yet that Chris had asked her to marry him and that she had said yes- in fact she had shouted yes- several times. Smiling tenderly she remembered the expression of happiness and infinite love on her beloved's face when she gave her consent.

William stirred slightly while he murmered something incoherent thus startling her out of her pleasant reverie. With one last look at him, she stood up and quickly left the room following her urge to call Chris just to hear his soothing voice.

Not until noon the next day did Georgiana and William meet again. She had waited endlessly, her impatience growing by the minute to tell her brother about her engagement and her decision to stay in Glasgow with her future husband.

Finally, after having slept for hours and hours, William entered the kitchen. He greeted her with a kiss on the forehead, and then went over to the counter to pour himself a cup of coffee.

"How are you today? " he asked with evident concern, as he sat down across from her.

Georgiana shrugged her shoulders. "I slept quite well, but I'm still shocked and sad. It's so hard to accept that Daddy's gone."

William nodded affirmatively. "Yes, it is- like a bad dream." He reached out and stroked her arm, "It's just you and me now, Georgie."

"That's what I thought, too, but..."

"I know," he interrupted, "there are our aunts and uncles and our cousins, but that's not the same. You are my closest relative now, and I'm yours."

Uneasiness settled in Georgiana's stomach. She quickly contemplated the best way to tell him everything and decided for clear and brief. "You're right of course, but there's something you have to know. It's about- "

Again William interrupted her while he rose from his chair, "Why don't you tell me on our way to Pemberley?" He sensed that something unpleasant was in the air, but since he was in no mood to hear more bad news, he tried to distract her from her intention as long as possible. "That will give us enough time to talk," he went on, already leaving for his room.

Georgiana sat there, completely taken aback, feeling her anger rise inexorably. She had hoped for a calm, private conversation with her brother, but obviously this was not going as she had planned. Somehow he suspected that he wouldn't fancy what she had to say. He was like a satellite dish, receptible for bad vibrations. Damn him! Sighing deeply, she accepted grudgingly that another fight was imminent.

Georgiana stood up and followed her brother to his study. She burst into the room and started to talk without bothering about any preamble. "I'm not going to Pemberley with you. Chris will be here soon and we'll go back to Glasgow together."

William watched her from behind his desk, his face blank, except for a slightly risen eyebrow. When she was finished, he leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. His voice was very calm, as he asked: "Am I to understand, that you'd rather go to Glasgow with your boyfriend than stay at Pemberley with your brother?"

Recognising at once his unmistakably dangerous tone, Georgiana anticipated all hell to break loose at her answer and lifted her chin defiantly. "That's right! And he's not my boyfriend, he's my fiance- we are engaged."

Taking a step forward, she pushed her left hand under her brother's nose and proudly showed off her beautiful engagement ring.

This was too much- even for William. Clearly bewildered, he stared at her hand, then at her face and erupted: "What?!"

His sister returned his stare, determined not to let him intimidate her. Seeing in her expression her refusal to back down, he jumped up from his chair and rushed over to the window, turning his back to her. Anger, disappointment and hurt tangled into a tight knot in his chest, almost choking him. With a few deep breaths, he tried to contain them, appealing to his voice of reason to overtake.

As Georgiana watched his struggle for control, her anger dissolved. Instead she felt guilty for having inflicted even more sorrow upon him. Tired of fighting with him, she searched for something conciliatory to say. Slowly crossing the room, she came to stand next to him. Her hand curled around his upper arm, coercing him to turn and face her. When their eyes met, she said: "I don't want to argue with you, Will. Please accept that I have my own life. I just can't give it up."

William nodded reluctantly, "I know that, but we're the only ones left now, Georgie. We have to stick together. How am I to take care of you when you're so far away?"

Georgiana embraced him impulsively, "Oh, Will, Glasgow is not that far away! No matter where we are, we will always stick together- we will always be family."

Clasping her shoulders, he pushed her slightly away from him to look into her face. "I'm the one in charge now, Georgie. How can I do a proper job when you're not here with me?"

She shook her head in exasperation. "William, don't you get it? You're in charge of the business and you're in charge of yourself, but you are not responsible for me. I'm not a child anymore, I'm a grown-up. We are equals." She smiled at him affectionately, "And I really take care for you, but not of you."

William returned her smile and pulled her back into his arms, resting his cheek on the top of her head. "I never realised how wise you are- I'm very proud of you."

"Thank you."

They stood there in silence, enjoying their newly-found familiarity, until William asked quietly: "Do you love him?"

Georgiana nodded into his chest, "Very much. He's my other half."

"Then I'm happy for you- congratulations."

She kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you for understanding, Will."

The intercom rang, announcing Chris' arrival, and William watched his sister all but race out of the room to answer the call.

Of course he understood that she wanted to live her own life, but till this day he'd refused to acknowledge it. And although he was truly happy for her, he couldn't help but feel like he was losing her, too. One by one the people he loved had left him, making him feel like the loneliest creature in the world.

Chapter 4

Andrew Darcy's funeral took place one week later on a bright but chilly Saturday morning at 10:30. Due to the early hour, many people had already arrived in Derbyshire the day before. Family and close friends were staying at Pemberley while the majority of guests had taken lodgings in hotels and boarding houses in and around Lambton, among them Robert Bennet and his daughter Elizabeth.

Having known Mr Darcy for almost 20 years as an honest, reliable businessman, Mr Bennet had considered it a matter of course to attend the funeral, expecting his daughter to accompany him. She, however, hadn't liked the idea of accepting the invitation at all. Her first impulse had been to refuse outright, but she refrained from voicing her reluctance knowing that it would lead to another round of questions and answers with her father. Though she had begun to open up to him after his fit of anger- more out of a sense of obligation than for any other reason- she was still not ready to share with him her innermost fears and anxieties. In fact, she was not ready to share them with anyone- except maybe for Jane, who had always been her closest confidant. Yet, this time she hadn't talked to her either. They'd been on the phone several times this past week and everytime her sister had prattled away on William Darcy's pitiable condition, his looks and his state of mind, revealing how very worried she was about him. Not wanting to burden Jane even more, Elizabeth had kept her problems to herself, which fortunately had turned out to be the right decision, since she'd had to realise that until then she had deliberately avoided dealing with the less apparent effects the accident had on her mind.

Once again she thought back to those endless months of therapy when so many people had poked into her brain trying to extract the reasons for her condition that in the end it had felt like mush. Her psychiatrist and his numerous colleagues from near and far, had literally drooled over her 'genuine' amnesia- without providing any help. Neither had they been able to restore her lost memory, nor to support her in coping with her husband's death. So after weeks and weeks of feeling like a freak, and having made no progress at all, she'd finally had enough.

She couldn't help but smile slightly as she remembered Dr Bergman's disappointment when she had flatly refused to go on seeing him. He reminded her of a dog whose favourite toy had just been snatched away from him. Of course he had tried to convince her to stay, but she'd stuck by her decision.

After 5 months she'd left the sanatorium, moved into Longbourn, asked her father for a job and from then on had lived her life on a day-to-day basis, never looking back nor forward. In the peace and solitude of her childhood home she finally managed to overcome Tom's death and to live with her nightmares, and the fact that she was missing a year of her past.

For the last few days she had thought a lot about her present situation, and she found out that she wasn't nearly as content as she had believed herself to be. She wanted to move on with her life, wanted to make plans, wanted to have a future. But to accomplish that, it was not enough to simply accept what had happened to her, she would have to face up to the facts and deal with them- on her own. And she would start today...

Elizabeth looked up to catch her father watching her intently across the breakfast table.

"Are you alright, Lizzy?" he asked quietly, brows knitted in concern. "If this is too much for you, you can stay here and I'll attend the funeral without you."

She reached out to cover his hand with her own. "No, Papa, I'm fine- really. I was just thinking."

"Good thoughts?"

"I guess so. -I've finally decided to conclude my old life and I'm about to take the first step."

"The crowd..." Bob murmured.

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "How do you know?"

His face contorted into a mask of mock dismay as he put a hand to his heart, "But Lizzy, I'm your father..."

She lifted an eyebrow, looking at him skeptically. "Try again," she challenged.

"Well, " he paused, "I watch and I listen..." standing up he rounded the table to her side and bowed to whisper in her ear, "and occasionally- I talk to Jane."

Before Elizabeth could even take a breath, he was on his way out of the breakfast room, stating over his shoulder in a voice tingled with amusement, "Come now, Lizzy, no time to laze around! We don't want to be late, do we?"

Struggling to control both amazement and consternation, it took her a few seconds before she could jump up and follow him.

Despite the large number of mourners the funeral service was a very quiet and personal affair. The small church on the outskirts of Lambton was cramped with people, who had come to say their last good-byes to the man who had been taken from among them so unexpectedly.

Elizabeth scanned the crowd as best she could given that she was sitting in one of the last pews on the right side. Whenever she encountered a familiar face, her gaze lingered while she tried to connect the features with an event stored up in her memory. Occasionally her scrutiny was noticed and either dismissed or rewarded with a nod or a slight smile, thus giving her a hint on whether she remembered correctly or failed. With satisfation she noted that so far she had been right with her guesses and allowed herself to relax a little- it was not as unpleasant as she had expected. Her gaze moved on, roaming across the rows in front of her until it came to rest on a head full of dark, curly hair and a pair of broad shoulders in the first pew to her left. She knew right away who she was looking at and waited for the uneasiness to set in, that in her mind went implicitly hand in hand with the mention of his name. Oddly enough, it didn't come. What she felt instead was...her brows furrowed in confusion...tenderness? Completely at a loss as to where this unwelcome sentiment stemmed from, she stared fixedly at the back of his head as if it could provide her with an answer.

William chose this moment to pass a hand through his hair and let it rest at the back of his neck, where a prickly sensation had settled in, sending shivers up and down his spine. He'd felt it for quite a while now, assigning it at first to a tension in his neck- but then he had never heard of tension producing goose bumps. Before he could think of any other explanation, it was gone. Mentally shrugging his shoulders he put his hand back in his lap, turning his focus back to his uncle's eulogy, silently admonishing himself for his inattention.

Elizabeth watched his movement wide-eyed, suddenly becoming aware of her stare and quickly averted her eyes, while her heart skipped a beat. Feeling like a child caught with its fingers in a box of chocolates, she looked down at her tightly clasped hands in embarrassment. It couldn't be that he'd felt it, could it? -No, of course not!...Yet, what if...? With her head bowed she glanced at him sideways, letting her eyes linger, waiting for him to react.

William felt that prickly sensation again, this time on his right cheek, very near to his ear. It was as if somebody touched him with gentle fingers, causing the fine hairs on his right arm to stand up from wrist to shoulder. He tried to ignore it, but after a few seconds could no longer resist the urge to rub his face at that bothering spot. A thought popped into his mind, making him stop his movement abruptly- he was being watched! Slowly he turned his head and looked around, only to find that nobody was paying him any attention. He wanted to dismiss the feeling as a product of his imagination, when he spotted Elizabeth Bennet- Elizabeth Baxter-Harding,[/ he corrected himself instantly- in one of the last pews to his right. His eyes narrowed, as he watched her closely. Though she had bowed her head like many of the others in attendance, there was neither calmness nor solemnity to her bearing; with her cheeks flushed and a frown on her face, she radiated agitation and alertness. Could it be that she...? -No, of course not!...Yet, what if...? William's head flew around when someone tipped him on the shoulder. Ready to snap at the intruder, he shut his mouth immediately when he found himself face to face with the funeral director.

Again Elizabeth averted her eyes quickly, ducking her head even deeper when she noticed his movement. Her heartbeat accelerated- he had found out! The color in her cheeks intensified and a frown formed on her face. Oh God, he must have felt it! How could that be? Did he know it was her? She wanted to run and hide to get away from his piercing glance. But while her whole body tensed as if preparing for escape, her common sense told her that this was of course not an option. Still at a loss as to what she could do, the tension suddenly ebbed away and she knew instinctively that he didn't watch her any longer. Relieved she released her breath on a long sigh, her body going limp.

She heard her father whisper into her ear. "Lizzy, are you alright?"

Confused she looked at him, her dazed brain unable to make sense of his question.

"Are you alright?" he repeated quietly, putting a hand on her arm.

His touch brought her back to reality. "Yes, Papa, of course. I'm fine," she finally whispered and once again stared down at her hands.

Bob knew that something was wrong with his daughter, since her mood had shifted completely within the past half hour. When they arrived she had been confident and determined, whereas now she was obviously confused, seemed agitated and lost in thought. He tried to think of a reason for her change; maybe the atmosphere of the funeral was getting to her- or the touching words of Anthony Fitzwilliam's eulogy, though he could have sworn that she had been totally oblivious to her surroundings, that she hadn't heard a word of what had been said. Unable to find an explanation, he finally decided that something must have occurred that had escaped his notice; he would have to ask her.

Meanwhile Elizabeth's brain worked at full speed. Recalling all her previous encounters with William Darcy, she could safely say that nothing extraordinary had ever happened between them- absolutely nothing to justify such a drastic change of attitude towards him. They'd been no more than casual acquaintances, moving in the same circle, thus meeting occasionally. She disliked him from the moment they'd met, his air of superiority, his piercing, measuring glances, his obvious pride. And from what she had seen so far- he was his old taciturn self. So how could it be that all of a sudden she just knew there was more to him, that he was hiding deep feelings underneath his motionless mask- feelings she never would have thought him capable of. The only conclusion she could draw drained the color from her face and made her head swim- she didn't remember! Whatever it was, it must have happened in that damned lost year- a year completely wiped out of her memory, buried deep down in her subconscious mind, way out of her reach. Fear gripped her; how should she behave without knowing on what terms they were? -They couldn't be friends, could they? -Or even more than friends? -No, she never would have cheated on Tom- never! But something incisive must have happened, or else her mind wouldn't have chosen that particular period of time to deny her access to. And it seemed that somehow William Darcy was a vital part of said period. Earlier that day she had decided to conclude her old life, which also meant digging up her past- now it was even more essential that she do it. Until she knew more, her only choice was to avoid William Darcy lest she make a fool of herself.

Bob nudged her slightly making her look up, but her view was blocked since everybody was on their feet, heads turned to the left. When she stood up, she saw that the funeral cortege was being formed with the priest leading it up the aisle, followed by four men who carried the coffin on their shoulders. Directly behind them walked Georgiana, a handsome, young man by her side supporting her with an arm around her waist. Elizabeth surveyed the faces of the mourners who followed them slowly, only to realise that she was searching for William. She squeezed her eyes shut to stop herself, silently repeating the decision she'd just come to- avoid him! Yet, when she opened her eyes again, they were immediately drawn to the men carrying the coffin. And sure enough there he was, by now at eye-level with her. His nearness made her palms tingle with the need to reach out and touch him, but before she could give way to this sudden desire the procession had moved on. When she became aware of what she'd almost done, her legs turned to jelly threatening to crumple under her weight. Desperately she grabbed for the backrest of the pew in front of her to steady herself. This was unbearable! So far she'd been fortunate enough not to disgrace herself- but it was not over yet!

Her thoughts were interrupted when Bob took her elbow to push her slowly into the aisle- it was their turn to join the funeral cortege. They were gathered at the graveside in no time, where a short but very touching service was held. Elizabeth receded into the background attempting to stick to her decision to avoid William Darcy as best she could. However, her plan was defeated when she felt him look at her for a few seconds. It was then that the urge to steal a glance at him grew too strong to withstand and she gave in to it. Until then she had only seen parts of his face from afar, but now she was provided a closer look. She was shocked by what she saw- this was not the man she remembered. Instead of being slim he was emaciated, with hollow cheeks and sunken eyes, making him appear much older than his 31 years. Though, as usual he didn't show his feelings, for her they were clearly written on his face; sadness, desperation and loneliness so deep that her heart ached for him and the desire to touch him returned. The thought of actually making physical contact with him still frightened her, but she had to admit that a strange sense of pleasant anticipation was mingled with that fear. As for her reaction to his touch, she would soon find out, since the time to condole with the family drew nearer.

William stood at his father's grave, fiercely struggling to maintain his self-control. His whole body ached from holding back the screams and tears that threatened to burst forth with every breath he took. How he still managed to hold it in was beyond him. This past week he had been too busy to dwell on his feelings for any length of time; arranging his father's affairs, organising the funeral and tending to various business matters had provided ample distraction. And those few moments when his emotions had almost got the better of him, he held them at bay by telling himself that giving in to them would only leave him weak and useless. Consequently he hadn't shed a single tear since that first evening when he heard about his father's death. But in his present state of mind he questioned this decision. Would it really have been that wrong to cry- at least after all the work was done? Surely it would have lessened the strength of his pent-up emotions, making it easier for him to cope with today's events. However, right now he was too preoccupied with the present to deal with the past. Feeling his control slip from his grasp with every minute, he fervently wished for yet another distraction from his inner turmoil.

His wish was granted when his eyes fell on Elizabeth Baxter-Harding. Though she was partially hidden behind her father, he saw enough of her to confirm what he'd only assumed earlier- she'd grown more mature in those almost 18 months since they'd last met. To him she'd still been a girl then, but now she was a woman- a pretty woman. Suddenly it annoyed him that he couldn't see all of her. He wanted her to come forward...to touch him...to hold him...to feel him.

Disgusted about the direction his thoughts were taking, he quickly dropped his eyes back to the ground- this was neither the time nor the place for such musings. Besides, why should he be attracted to her of all people, given that their relationship could be called strained at best? Surley his imagination had played a dirty trick on him and he had fallen for it. But he would soon be able to verify that, for she had to come forward and touch him- to condole with him.

Chapter 5

Shortly after midday, family, friends and closer acquaintances were gathered at Pemberley for the funeral repast. The low spirits of the mourners were soon lifted considerably as they did ample justice to the various snacks deliciously arranged on a sideboard and the excellent wine. Two of them, however, were too deeply lost in thought to eat or drink, let alone participate in the ongoing conversations.

William was first to give in to his growing urge for privacy. Unperceived by the majority of guests, he murmured an excuse to Georgiana and was headed for the study before she even had a chance to open her mouth.

Elizabeth- one of those oblivious to his retreat- followed his example just a few mintues later. She pleaded a headache and- since she refused to occupy one of the family's rooms- was immediately escorted to the library to take a rest.

William was still unable to cry. Even though he was alone now, his loneliness was only physical- Elizabeth was on his mind. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get her out of his head. He was highly irritated that with just one touch- a simple handshake- just imagine!- she had set off an avalanche of emotions that threatened to overrun him. While he was ready to admit that he was attracted to her, he never would have expected his reaction to her to be so strong. Closing his eyes, he turned back time and let the scene unfold in his mind once more.

He saw her waiting in queue with the other visitors, moving forward slowly, all the time keeping her eyes to the ground. While he shook hands and had his shoulders patted several times, he urged her on silently to increase her pace, his impatience growing with every small step she took. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she was standing before him. The first thing that struck him was her height- she was smaller than he remembered, the second was that she still didn't look at him. Even now she lifted her head just a scant of an inch to stare at his chest, as she extended her hand and murmured something he didn't understand. While he looked down at the top of her head, he felt the urge to hook a finger under her chin and turn her face up to him. He would have acted on his impulse if they were alone, but in front of all these people he restrained himself and settled for taking the hand she offered. The moment they touched, a surge of emotions swept through him, hot and heady- the impact leaving him almost breathless. Staring down at their clasped hands, he felt her wince and automatically tightened his grip, afraid that she might break the contact. Her head came up and at long last their gazes met, and locked. Her eyes were the most beautiful he had ever seen, bright, deep, dark blue- and huge with wonder. But then ever so slowly their expression changed to one of warmth and tenderness, mirroring what she saw in his own eyes, he assumed- they both felt it. Nevertheless, what she did next took him completely by surprise. Her left hand came up to curl around the back of his neck and draw him down to her. Quickly she brushed his lips with a soft kiss, carefully pulled her hand from his grip and was gone, leaving him in a daze...

Slowly William opened his eyes, once again awash with feelings he hadn't believed in anymore- hope, trust, tenderness and desire so overwhelming, it almost hurt. They'd been squeezed out of him so thoroughly by loss and betrayal that he had thought them lost to him forever. To have them back made him feel alive again; his battered soul absorbed them greedily, filling the black holes that had been torn into it and banishing the darkness to the very edge of his conscious. Yet, at the same time he was scared to death; accepting them would also make him vulerable and defenceless, utterly open to disappointment and hurt.

Taking a deep breath, he got up, shrugged out of his jacket and began to pace up and down. He couldn't allow it; he couldn't afford to be exposed to her. Though still at a loss as to how or why it had happened that she had obviously brought him back to life, he knew in his heart that she could destroy him just as easily. But it was too late to protect himself against her, anyway. Her fine eyes had caught him when he hadn't even thought of pulling up his defences; and if he had thought of it, would he have wanted to? He doubted it. However, considering his reward, he had no cause for regrets. God, her brief caress had been pure bliss! His lips still tingled from that soft touch. Fortunately she'd been gone too fast for him to react, or else he would have embarrassed both of them by kissing her back. Burning desire rushed through him at the thought of taking her into his arms, embracing her tightly, feeling her pressed against him...

Groaning aloud, he clenched his hands into fists while his whole body shook with the effort to control his aching loins. It took him a long time to calm down passably and regain a fragile equilibrium. Heaving a deep-drawn sigh, he leaned his forehead against the windowpane and rolled it back and forth on the cool surface. Never in his life had he wanted a woman as much as he wanted her. And he knew that he could trust her; more than anything else, her kiss had been a promise, a promise that she wouldn't take advantage of his feelings. But he knew just as well that he couldn't take the risk, because his soul wouldn't survive the blow that was sure to come, regarding their previous history. So far she didn't remember, maybe wouldn't in a long time, but eventually her memory would be restored, and she would go back to hating him...

Suddenly he lifted his head and swung around, anger simmering through him- to hell with the consequences! He wanted her and he would have her! He would never let her hate him again! He would seduce her, conquer her, take advantage of her present ignorance- this last thought brought his wrathful litany to an abrupt halt. His anger dissolved just as fast as it had built, leaving him ashamed of himself. How could such an idea even enter his mind? He never lied, he never cheated, in fact he was well known for his honesty- and he was proud of it. This pride would never allow him to enter a relationship with Elizabeth under wrong assumptions; it would force him to be honest- which was impossible. He would have to tell her what had happened between them all those months ago, but he knew he'd never find the courage to do it. Thus, the only alternative was to accept that he couldn't have her...

It hit him hard when at last he had to acknowledge the hopelessness of his situation. Loneliness and desperation returned full force, draining him of what little strength he had left. He felt as if he would collapse any second, so he opted for a soft landing and slowly sank to the floor right where he was. Sagging back against the wall, he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to hold back the tears that welled up behind them, all the time taking deep breaths to fight the lump in his throat. But it was all for naught. Helplessly he realised that his painful breaths had turned to dry sobs and tears were seeping from beneath his lashes. Finally letting go of any restraint, he pulled up his legs, folded his arms atop his knees and buried his face in the crook of his elbow to cry like he hadn't in a very long time.

Elizabeth sighed contently and snuggled into the comfortable armchair that almost swallowed her. Closing her eyes, she savoured the silence of the empty room. With all the questions and speculations swirling through her head, she couldn't have endured the small talk and laughter of the other guests one minute longer. Having successfully escaped the noisy company, she was finally able to concentrate her thoughts on what was bothering her most: -her strong reaction to William Darcy.

Even though she hardly knew him, she had been totally attuned to him; sensing his every gaze upon her, and feeling the depth of his emotions had been extremely disturbing. Never in her life had she felt so close to anyone who hadn't been either part of her family, or a very good friend- not even with her husband had she ever experienced such mental nearness. Though she had loved Tom deeply, there had always been a certain distance between them, maybe due to their difference in age- he had been almost 12 years older than she...

When she felt sadness overcome her, she resolutely pushed it away and turned her thoughts back to William. Standing by his father's graveside, a few steps away from everyone else, he'd radiated loneliness and desperation. Feelings that surely came natural on such an occasion, but she knew for certain that they hadn't been caused solely by his father's death- they had already been there before.

Elizabeth felt a blush creep into her face and inhaled deeply to steady her increased heartbeat while she slowly rubbed her palms against her upper arms to stop them from tingling. To conjure up his picture in her mind had almost the same effect on her, as if he were right there in person. But now that she knew how it felt to touch him, the sensations coursing through her body were of an entirely different kind than those she had to struggle with earlier that day. For a few seconds she let go of any coherent thought and just revelled in the warmth, tenderness, and desire his touch had produced. She wondered briefly what it would be like to be in his arms, to embrace him tightly, to feel all of him...When she felt heat pooling in her loins, she jumped up from her seat, silently cursing her vivid imagination. She went over to the window to stare out at the snow covered landscape and deliberately recalled her mixed up emotions as she had awaited the dreaded moment when she would have to face William Darcy...

While moving forward slowly to where the family had been waiting to receive the condolences, she'd been full of fear, anticipation and curiosity. The sudden tension in her body had told her that William's piercing gaze was upon her again. It was as if he had invaded her mind, urging her on and pulling her closer and closer to him, while clearly conveying impatience. Anticipation and curiosity had by then been completely swamped out by immeasurably augmented fear. Once again her impulse had been to run and hide, but once again she had been trapped with no way out. Attacked by a fit of dizziness, she'd had to struggle hard not to faint. Staring to the ground in front of her, she had forced her trembling legs to carry her along by fiercly concentrating on every step she took.

Somehow she had finally made it to the Darcys, and after hugging and kissing Georgiana, she'd been standing before him. For a split second his sudden proximity had left her frozen to the spot, unable to move or talk. Then her brain had switched to autopilot, making her lift her head- a little, extend her hand and murmur: "I'm sorry..."

Her gaze fixed to a button of his coat, she had waited for his response. It didn't come immediately, though, making her feel slightly dopey for standing there with her hand outstretched. But at last he had come into motion, enveloping her hand with his...

A strange noise, apparently coming out of nowhere, interrupted Elizabeth's thoughts. Slightly irritated, she turned around to confront the putative intruder- to her puzzlement the room was empty. Certain that she hadn't just imagined that...growl, she listened intently, but her ears met only silence. She shrugged and decided to resume her place in that inviting armchair. Leaning back comfortably, she closed her eyes and returned to her reverie.

The moment they touched she'd felt like being connected to a live wire, energising every nerve cell in her body. When she'd winced involuntarily, she had felt him tighten his grip on her as if he were afraid of losing contact. Totally taken aback she'd looked up and found him staring at their clasped hands with his brows pulled low. Still frowning he had lifted his head and their gazes met and locked. His eyes were the most spellbinding she had ever seen, deep, soulful, dark brown- she'd felt like drowning. And then, ever so slowly, the frown had disappeared from his face to be replaced by an expression of warmth and tenderness- making her assume it matched her own expression. Understanding at once what it meant for him to show her his feelings, she had known she needed to reassure him that he could trust her. Without thinking any further she had drawn his head down and kissed him tenderly. But suddenly her common sense had reminded her of the impropriety of her behaviour. Feeling totally embarrassed, she'd released him, pulled back her hand and all but ran away from the graveyard...

Elizabeth smiled dreamily as she recalled that special moment. His lips had been warm and firm, yet tender- a thrilling experience. Unfortunately he had been too surprised to react, but if he had...she knew it would have been wonderful. But how could she know? Only if they'd been more familiar with one another in the past than she remembered- like lovers...Pondering that thought, she found out that what she had considered simply impossible just a few hours ago, didn't seem so absurd by now. After all, he was a very handsome man, attractive, mysterious, challenging...Yet again- she couldn't imagine that she would ever have cheated on Tom. And what if she had? But that would also mean that William had cheated on Patricia. Or had they already been separated? And if so why then hadn't William come to visit her after the accident? Sighing in frustration, she realised that she couldn't come up with any satisfying answer. She would have to wait till she found out what had happened in those months previous to Tom's death. Until then, she would stick to her decision to avoid William Darcy.

Elizabeth sat up straight in her chair, listening carefully- another strange noise. It sounded different from the first, but she couldn't identify it, either. When she heard it a second time, she stood up and followed slowly to where the noises obviously led- the door to an adjoining room. When she neared it, she saw that it was slightly ajar...and the room behind it was in fact the source of those...sobs? They came regularly by now- heart wrenching, hoarse sobs. Definitely worried, she hesitated only a second before opening the door completely and crossing the threshold...

She stepped further into the room, suddenly fraught with a vague suspicion. Peering around the edge of a huge desk, she stopped short in her tracks. Her breath caught in her chest at the sight she beheld; at the far end of the room, near the window, William sat on the floor, weeping bitterly. Once again she hesitated, not sure whether it was wise to invade his privacy, or to just leave without making her presence known. In the end her desire to comfort him prevailed over her sense of decency and she walked over to him. Kneeling down in front of him, she put a hand on his arm and called his name in a hushed voice. At first he didn't react, then his head came up slowly and he looked at her with teary eyes. Suddenly he moved as quickly as a flash, unfolding his limbs, pulling her astride his thighs and embracing her in a vise like grip. Elizabeth was too stunned to do anything but gasp for breath and stare down at the man who had buried his face in the curve of her neck, wetting her with his tears. It was the pain he inflicted upon her ribcage with his tight hug, that helped her to get over the initial shock.

Breathlessly she whispered: "You're crushing me."

Instantly he slackened his grip, allowing her to inhale deeply. Bad idea, she realised at once. The intake of breath pushed up her breasts, molding them very firmly to William's chest. To her mortification she noticed that her nipples puckered immediately. In an attempt to conceal her predicament, she put her hands on his shoulders and tried to draw back a little, hoping fervently he hadn't noticed.

Initially acting more upon his desperate need for physical contact and consolation than anything else, William had relished in their closeness, eagerly absorbing her warmth and tenderness to soothe his wounded heart. As his profound grief gradually abated, he became more and more aware of the soft curves of the body pressed so tightly to his. Thus he was reluctant to loosen his embrace, but as he complied to her entreaty, he couldn't help but notice the advantage of his action. The feel of her hardened nipples against his chest caused a surge of heady sensations that rushed through his body and went strait to his loins. Unable to resist temptation, he deeply inhaled her sweet scent and pressed a gentle kiss to her throat, completely ignoring her attempt to pull back from him.

Elizabeth was lost when she felt his lips on her skin. With a soft sigh, she inclined her head to give him better access, abandoning any thoughts of mortification or resistance. Her hands started a journey up and down his back, stroking tenderly, stopping ocassionally to savour the firm flesh underneath his shirt- but it wasn't enough. Frantic with need, she tugged the bothering garment out of the waistband of his trousers. When her fingers finally touched bare skin, they both moaned with relief.

William used his tongue to trace a wet path up her throat to her delicate jawline. Fiercely aroused by her bold caresses, he quickly made his way to her mouth and nibbled at her lower lip. When he pressed a hand to the small of her back to bring her closer to his straining erection, she cried out mindlessly. Immediately he thrust his tongue into her open mouth...

"William!" Georgiana's voice accompanied by a loud knock on the main door, jerked them back into reality. Frozen to the spot, they stared at each other, eyes wide with astonishment. Only when Georgiana called his name a second time, did they both move. Elizabeth jumped up, cheeks crimson with embarrassement at the situation they'd almost been caught in, and turned to leave the room as fast as she could. However, she was not fast enough for William. He had been up on his feet in no time, and realising that she wanted to run away from him, had grabbed for her hand, thus impeding her escape.

"I'll be out in a minute, Georgie," he answered his sister in a voice still rough with arousal, all the while holding on to Elizabeth's hand. Still facing away from him, she heard him clear his throat, before he said quietly: "Elizabeth, please, don't be ashamed. We..."

She almost gave in, when she heard his soothing tone, but her embarrassement was too strong to be dismissed so easily. All the prejudices she had always held against him came back to her in a rush, burning desire and tenderness into anger that compelled her to swing around with blazing eyes: "How can I not be ashamed? I hardly know you! And...and I don't even like you!"

Stunned silence followed her confession. As soon as she realised what she had just said, she dropped her gaze and bit down hard on her lower lip, inwardly cursing her quick tongue.

William felt as if he'd been hit square in the chest. Utterly devoid of his defences, he was unable to stop the pain from going straight to his core. Numbly he registered that it hurt even more than he would have expected. Eventually, albeit too late, his instincts to protect himself came to life, making him snatch his hand away from hers.

Elizabeth had been waiting for his reaction, but by no means had she been prepared for the violence with which it finally came. Her head snapped up in surprise and she looked at him. She saw him square his shoulders and rise to his full height while the light in his eyes expired as if a candle had been blown out, and his face turned into a blank mask. Mesmerised she watched his transformation into the man she had always believed him to be, proud, unfeeling, conceited William Darcy. To her astonishment she felt a strange sense of loss settle in her heart.

William stared back at her with cold eyes, seemingly perfectly in control now. He tucked his shirt back into his trousers, as he addressed her in an even, almost bored tone: "You should really refrain from showing your dislike in such a manner, Mrs Harding- it is highly likely to be misunderstood. -Excuse me, please, my sister needs me."

Without waiting for an answer, he inclined his head slightly and walked past her. On his way to the door, he picked up his jacket and shrugged into it.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, desperately suppressing her tears. Though his words hurt her deeply, she knew that she deserved them- she had struck out at him first and he'd only answered back. As she watched his retreat, she found out that it was beyond her to let him walk away like this. She wanted to say something to stop him, but since the proper words eluded her, she decided to play for time and called out for him quietly.

William froze with his hand already on the door handle. Not having counted on her to respond at all, he was totally unprepared for the mixture of emotions that swept through him when he heard her speak his name; surprise, relief, joy and desire mingled in his chest and almost pressed the air out of his lungs, before he could hold them at bay. Taking a deep breath, he fended them off vigorously while he mustered what little strength he had left to enforce his weakened defences. When he considered himself ready to face her again, he turned around slowly.

Elizabeth observed him in close anticipation, silently pleading with him not to leave her just yet. Sensing his inner struggle, she fervently hoped that he would decide in her favour. Time seemed to stretch unbearably while she waited. She was on the verge of giving up, when he eventually moved.

When their gazes met, disappointment washed over her, because the man who looked back at her was not the one she'd expected. Unable to stand his cold stare, she dropped her eyes and- for the second time that day- murmured in a small voice: "I'm sorry..."

"It's alright," he answered, sounding very distant and business-like, "I have to apologise, too- for everything. We'd better forget about today and keep things the way they are."

Elizabeth flinched at his words. As she stood there, her head still bowed, she could feel his gaze upon her and knew that he was waiting for her reply. But she didn't dare use her voice since the lump in her throat had grown by the second. One word would suffice to make her burst into tears. So she simply nodded.

He seemed to hesitate briefly, but a few moments later she heard the door close behind him, and started crying wholeheartedly.

The Lost Year

Chapter 6

It was 5 p.m. when at last peace and quietness reentered Pemberley. With all the guests having left by then, only six people remained.

They'd made themselves comfortable in the library; William was engaged in a game of chess with his cousin Richard, in an effort to keep his thoughts away from Elizabeth- he didn't really succeed, though- while Jane and Georgiana were having a subdued conversation with Charles and Chris.

Throughout the game, Richard noticed William's lack of concentration, but naturally ascribed it to the very demanding, stressful time his cousin was just going through. However, he had to revise his opinion when he realised that in truth William was trying to overhear what the others were talking about. And every time a certain name was mentioned, he seemed to be even more distracted than he already was.

Richard- never loath to have fun at his cousin's expense- found this apparent display of interest very amusing indeed, because normally William never gave away his feelings. Wondering briefly what might have caused him to act so way out of character, he decided to seize this rare opportunity and sound things out- and maybe tease his cousin just a little bit.

Gently knocking down his king on the chess board and thus conceding defeat he said, "Tell you what, Will, this game's boring." He stood up, rubbing his hands and continued, "Let's join the others. -I'd rather have a little chat."

He looked at William expectantly, who returned his look with evident suspicion. He knew Richard well enough to suspect that there was more to his abrupt change of mind than just a sudden desire for conversation. But since no other good reason came to his mind, he shrugged and rose from his armchair to follow Richard who was already approaching the foursome by the fireside. But almost immediately he jerked to a halt when he heard his cousin's question: "So Jane, what's this whole story about Elizabeth? I know about the accident, but how is she now? From what I saw today, she looks quite healthy. Any after-effects?"

With that he made himself comfortable on the sofa across from Jane and looked at her curiously, but not before shooting his cousin a sideways glance.

William was not a violent person by nature, but at that very moment he felt a strong urge to strangle Richard with his bare hands. That sneaky, scheming...He had found out somehow! Was it really so easy for his cousin to see through him? Or had he betrayed himself in any way?

In order to conceal his anger he walked over to one of the windows and stared outside. Wisely enough, though, he chose the one nearer to the fireside, so he could still hear Jane's answer: "Well, physically she's pretty much recovered, although her left side was injured severely- I don't know how many fractures and bruises she received. But what had the doctors really worried was her concussion. Fortunately she recovered from that, too, without any permanent damage."

Chris, a doctor himself, leaned forward, his interest peaked. "So the head injury has nothing to do with her amnesia?"

"No, she suffers from a form of amnesia that is caused by the traumatic experience she has endured," Jane explained.

"And how did they find out about it?"

With Jane's attention now drawn to Chris, Richard was able to take another look at William. Though his back was turned to them, he could tell by his cousin's erect stance and the tense set of his shoulders that he was concentrating more on what was said behind him than on the view in front of him. Convinced that it had to be something serious that had William so preoccupied, Richard decided to abandon teasing him for the time being and instead focus on finding out what was really going on.

"We found out, actually, " Charles chipped in, thus deflecting Richard's thoughts. "Shortly after she learned that Tom was dead, she said something about being a widow at 23, but she was already 24 at that time."

"At first we thought she was just confused," Jane went on. "Only when she asked us not to postpone our wedding on her account, did we know for sure that something was wrong. -Our wedding had already taken place the previous August."

Georgiana was totally shocked. "Oh my God! Poor Lizzy! How did she react, when her amnesia was finally confirmed?"

Charles shook his head in dismay, "She suffered a serious depression, crying almost all the time. But her mood improved bit by bit when in time it became clear that she'd lost only one year of her memory."

Jane put her hand into her husband's and intertwined their fingers, seeking the comfort of his touch and explained: "She remembered everything up to her second wedding anniversary, but nothing beyond. She thought the accident had happened after they'd celebrated in a restaurant- in truth they'd been on their way home from..." she hesitated, casting a glance at William's back, "...from Patricia's birthday party, shortly before their third anniversary. And that's how it is till this day, despite months of therapy."

Much to Richard's surprise, William had turned around at the mention of Patricia's name and now asked: "Didn't you tell her what has happened in the meantime?"

At this Jane and Charles shook their heads in unison, and Charles answered: "We tried, but she didn't- and still doesn't- want us to. All she wanted was to see the pictures and the video tape taken at our wedding." With his last words, his voice had become unsteady, so Jane continued for him, although her eyes were brimming with tears.

"It made her so sad that she couldn't remember it. She said, aside from having lost the memory of her last months with Tom, this was the worst."

The silence that followed was suddenly interrupted by Charles who started to laugh softly. All heads turned to him in astonishment. He waved his hand apologetically, slightly blushing.

"I'm sorry, but I just had to think of what Lizzy said when she saw a picture of William where he was actually laughing..."

"Charles," Jane hissed.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"This is entirely inappropriate," she admonished, looking at William from beneath her lashes.

"Oh Jane, come on," Richard stepped in, "remember what Reverend McNeill said at the funeral repast. That Uncle Andrew has gone into a better world, where there's no pain and no sorrow and that we should be happy for him instead of being sad?"

Jane nodded approvingly and couldn't suppress a small smile. "He actually started telling jokes to cheer us all up."

"And I really appreciated it," Georgiana admitted quietly, "I'm so tired of being sad and crying- it doesn't bring Daddy back, after all. I will always love him and will miss him for as long as I live, but I'm sure, he would want us to go on with our lifes and be happy."

"Well, Charles," William addressed his friend, "now that you have everybody's consent, I suggest you keep us no longer in suspense."

Charles looked down at his hands, obviously embarrassed, "Hmm, maybe it's not so funny...it's just that I...admire her, because she hasn't lost her sense of humour despite the circumstances."

Richard tapped him on the shoulder and gave him a thumbs-up, "Go ahead, man."

"Well, she said," Charles began, turning to William, "she wouldn't have thought you could smile, let alone laugh, because you always...keep such a stiff upper lip."

Silence ensued...and lasted, until Charles squirmed uncomfortably, feeling the need to justify himself, "I told you- "

He was interrupted, as Georgiana started to giggle and Richard burst out laughing. A relieved smile appeared on Charles' face, and finally everybody joined in the laughter- except for William. The only outward sign that Lizzy's quip had hit the mark were his reddened ears, whereas his face remained as blank as always, while he waited for the laughter to subside. His patience was put to the test, however, because- much to his chagrin- his stern expression only spurred on the general amusement. When he couldn't stand it any longer, he turned on his heels and left for his study.

The sound of the closing door immediately expelled the good mood. The smiles vanished to be replaced by worried faces.

Georgiana sighed. "I wish he wouldn't take everything so seriously, he- "

"No, Georgie, it was my fault- I shouldn't have said it," Charles cut her off decidedly.

Standing up, Richard shook his head angrily. "It's nobody's fault! We all needed some cheering up," he said and took a deep breath. "And Will definitely needs to loosen up. He just behaved like a sullen teenager. I'm tired of weighing every word I say to spare his feelings."

"But Richard," Jane interjected, "these last two years were really tough on him. I'm not surprised in the least that he couldn't laugh about Lizzy's teasing. In fact, I think that the last time he really laughed was at our wedding."

Georgiana looked up at her cousin. "Jane is right, Richard. I thought a lot about Will these past few days. And believe me, I wouldn't want to be in his shoes."

Richard smirked as he sat down again. "They wouldn't fit anyway, Georgie."

She slapped him playfully, while the others tried to cover up their laughter with coughs and harumphs.

"Richard please, do be serious," she reprimanded. "Will is totally caught up in his own world of restrained emotions and self-reproach. If he goes on like this, he will ruin himself. Something has to be done to make him open up. -Given how reserved and obstinate he is, it won't be easy, though." She looked at her friends for confirmation and earned consenting nods.

They sat there for a while pondering options and discarding them, until Chris broke the silence.

"Did you talk to him about Christmas already?" he asked Georgiana.

She shook her head. "No, not yet. I wanted to do that tomorrow."

"What are your plans?" Jane enquired.

Chris put an arm around Georgiana's waist to pull her closer, and looked at her lovingly. "Well, since Georgie doesn't feel up to celebrating here- without her father- we intend to either invite Will to Glasgow or to spend the holidays in London with him. He may choose."

Richard snorted and waved his hand dismissively. "Forget Glasgow- he'll never come. And as for London- I'm sure he'll find a way to back out of that, too."

"What about Netherfield?" Charles piped up, his face brightening notably. "If we all celebrated together at Netherfield, he couldn't decline."

"That's a brilliant idea, darling," Jane stated and kissed her husband on the cheek. Turning back to her companions she opened her arms wide as if including them all in a huge embrace.

"You'll all come to Hertfortshire for Christmas- and we're going to have a wonderful time."

"That's fine by me," Richard agreed after a moment. "I'd love to come to Netherfield. Since my parents are going to Italy to my brother's, I'd be alone anyway. -Georgie, Chris what about you?"

The young couple exchanged a look, then they both nodded and Georgie said: "Thank you, we'd love to come, too."

"Great!" Jane exclaimed and stood up. Addressing her husband, she added: "You discuss the details, dear, and I'm going to tell William. He won't be able to sneak out, believe me." With a sly smile she winked at them as she knocked on the door to the adjoining room.

Without waiting for William's permission, Jane entered the study. He had resumed his favourite place in front of the window, facing away from her. When he heard her call his name, he turned around in surprise. "Jane...?"

"Am I disturbing you?" she asked cautiously.

"No, not at all. I just didn't expect-"

"Me- I know." Anxiously searching his face, she walked over to stand before him. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, thank you," he managed a wry smile. "Just feeling a little...stupid."

Impulsively she put her hand to his cheek. "Oh, no Will, don't," she shook her head to emphasise her statement. "There's no need to- we all understand. You've been through so much lately. -Nobody will condemn you for acting a wee bit peculiar every now and then."

What was meant to be a witty remark, caused him to drop his eyes to the ground and blush slightly, thus confirming what she had already suspected. Cupping his chin, she forced him to meet her gaze and asked in a hushed voice: "You don't like that, do you?"

Again he said nothing, but after hesitating briefly he gave his head a negative shake. His silent admission prompted Jane to hug him compassionately. "Oh, dear, dear William, will you ever be able to admit that you're only human- like we all are?" She pulled away from him to look into his eyes intently. "You ask far too much of yourself. You need to relax- take it easy for a while. Let go of all the restraints you've imposed upon yourself."

With her remarks she'd hit home far too close for his liking, so he tried to deflect her thoughts by asking lightly: "Do I guess correctly that your kind rebuke serves a certain purpose?"

Smiling at him brilliantly, Jane declared: "Yes! We've made plans for Christmas."

"And?" William asked warily, a dark premonition settling in his stomach.

Unable to contain her excitement, she let go of him and stepped back a little. "We're all going to celebrate at Netherfield! -Georgie, Chris, Richard, Charles, you and me- and, of course, Papa and Lizzy. -Oh, William, we will have such a wonderful time! What do you think?"

"Well, to be honest..." -he couldn't think at all, his brain had stopped working at the mention of her sister's name. Only one sentence flashed through his mind: Find an excuse!

But she was too fast for him. Sensing his hesitancy, she saw her chance. She grabbed his arm and tugged lightly at his sleeve. "Please, William, do come! Say yes!" she pleaded with him, giving the impression that her whole happiness depended on his consent. Before he could stop himself, he felt his head bob up and down in agreement.

"Yes!" Jane exclaimed, embracing him once again and kissing his cheek. "You will not regret it, I'm sure!" She took his hand and attempted to drag him back to the library. "Come on- we have to tell the others. They will be so glad to hear it!"

Gently but determinedly William stopped her and pulled his hand free. "Just give me one more minute, Jane. I'll join you shortly."

She eyed him suspiciously. "Promise?"

"Promise," he assured her and watched as she made her way out of the room in an elated pace.

As soon as the door had closed behind her, he heaved a deep sigh and passed a hand through his hair. Knowing exactely that she had duped him, he wasn't sure whether to be angry or amused. While he lightly scratched the back of his neck, his brow furrowed in confusion. What was so special about these Bennet women that he obviously couldn't resist their charms?

Chapter 7 - Part 1

As soon as her father pulled up in front of the hotel, Elizabeth jumped out of the car, slammed the door shut and hurried through the entrance. With a worried expression on his face, Robert watched her disappear inside.

Ever since the funeral service this morning, something had been entirely wrong with her. At first he'd assumed that she hadn't been able to handle the situation as good as she'd hoped, that she had demanded too much from herself too soon. Therefore he'd expected her to get better once the funeral was over.

But far from it! Despite taking a rest after their arrival at Pemberley, her mood had become even worse. She'd emerged from the library with puffy eyes that clearly indicated she had been crying. Wanting to give her comfort, he had been by her side immediately. But she'd sidestepped his attempt, telling him that she just wanted to go back to the hotel. At this point he had become really worried, sensing that whatever troubled her was going much deeper than he'd thought.

They'd taken their leave rather hastily, and within minutes had been in the car on their way back to Lambton. He had silently hoped she would confide in him, but she had turned her head away to stare out of the window thus showing him that this was not going to happen.

He'd heaved a sigh of frustration, not sure how to proceed- should he ask her although he knew it would make her even more defensive or should he wait until she would come to him voluntarily? But before he'd had time to come to a decision, they'd reached their destination and he could do nothing but let her go.

Robert sat there and felt another sigh rising in his chest. Irritated, he attempted to hold it back, but then let it out anyway. After all, that was all he could do right now- sigh and wait. Silently praying for patience, he climbed out of the car and followed his daughter.

~ * ~

Elizabeth took refuge in her hotel room, immediately locking the door behind her. Leaning her forehead against the cool wood, she finally gave in to a new torrent of tears that had burned behind her eyes ever since leaving Pemberley.

Her body was exhausted, her mind dazed from the emotional roller coaster she had been riding all day long. She couldn't even name all the feelings she'd been put through within so short a time; they had reached from one end of the spectrum to the other, sometimes changing within minutes, but never giving her a moment's rest.

When the tears eventually subsided, she lifted her head and turned around slowly, wiping her wet cheeks with jerky motions. In dire need of some relief for her unsteady legs, she walked over to the bed, on her way depositing the coat she'd worn, and sat down with a contented sigh. She didn't remain upright for long but gently tipped over to her right side and lifted her feet from the ground. Coiling up into a ball, she put her folded hands under her cheek.

Right now all she wanted was to sleep, but she knew she wouldn't be able to. First she'd have to sort out her tangled thoughts, try to find out what was going on. Yet, something told her that today's events went beyond her understanding- they were frightening and unexplainable.

With knitted brows she wondered if this was possibly the second time these very thoughts had afflicted her. Had she been through all this once before? She held on to the question, mulled it over, and closing her eyes, she searched her heart for any hidden emotion that might connect itself to it and searched her mind for borrowed images that might resurface.

But no memories from long ago came up- instead pictures of William from not so long ago arose in her mind's eye, eliciting an instant reaction from her body. Waves of heat swept through her, shortening her breath and flushing her cheeks, as the feeling of his strong body pressed against hers came back. Once again she was enveloped in his scent and heard his groans ring in her ears, for a split second making her believe that she was back in his arms.

Her eyes snapped open, and she inhaled deeply to recover her breath. Even in retrospect she couldn't control her physical reaction to him- and her surprise about it hadn't lessened a bit. The next thought that occurred to her made her sit up abruptly. He'd been totally taken aback, too. Suddenly too excited to keep still, she stood up and began to pace the room, trying to find evidence for her detection.

When she'd seen him before the funeral service, he had been all she had known him to be- proud, conceited, aloof, displaying his usual behaviour. In no way had he acted as if there had ever been any intimacy between them- he hadn't even talked to her.

She stopped in her tracks, tilting her head in concentration as she attempted to assess his reactions to the subsequent events. In church he'd seemed to be perplexed, at the graveside irritated and impatient. But when they'd touched, his astonishment, his confusion had been abundantly clear- impossible to overlook. And although she had seen them and felt them, until now she hadn't recognised them for what they were- a mirror image of her own emotions. It had taken them both completely unawares!

This unexpected insight took a heavy load off her mind, at the same time dispelling the rush of adrenaline that had pushed her up. As her fatigue returned, she went back to the bed and lay down, feeling greatly relieved. To know that William had been affected similarly, nurtured her hope that they didn't share any history she couldn't remember. Of course there was no guarantee that her presumption was correct, but at least it was logical enough to give her a small amount of reassurance.

Relaxing notably for the first time that day, she began to wonder about her own behaviour. She had always considered herself even-tempered and levelheaded, neither one to be up one minute and down the next, nor one to panic easily in times of trouble. And Tom, who'd been a very stable and reasonable man, had always endorsed her self-assessment by praising her mental balance for one so young. His commendation had made her proud and she attempted to live up to it, which hadn't been too difficult. In fact, life with Tom had hardly given any reason for emotional outbursts. It had been predictable and steady- comfortable, and she had liked it that way.

But since then her emotional life had undergone a significant change, because after the accident she found out that she was capable of feelings so strong, she hadn't even known existed. They'd been explainable and understandable though, and eventually she had managed to deal with them. Whereas the intense emotions William Darcy had elicited were highly irrational and unfounded, and she had no idea how to deal with them- they made her insecure and unsure of herself. Yet, she had to concede that in their entirety they were decidedly more pleasurable than anything she had ever felt before. Mainly because of the desire they'd shared- desire so strong that it had erased any coherent thought. As frightening as it had been, deep within she yearned for it. Smiling slightly about her silent concession, she closed her eyes and for the first time let herself wallow in the feeling of being in William's arms without any reservation.

~ * ~

Smiling tenderly Bob watched his sleeping daughter as he sat by her bedside. Actually, he didn't want to wake her up, but he knew he had to. It was time for dinner, and she would be hungry at midnight at the latest, if she didn't get anything to eat soon. Moreover, he had important news to tell her and, last but not least, he wanted to satisfy his curiosity about what had happened at the funeral. He'd had time to think about her strange behaviour and had come to the conclusion that it had something to do with William Darcy.

So he nudged her shoulder and gently called her name. At first she didn't react at all, then she wrinkled her nose and furrowed her brow. Bob chuckled, thinking that some things never changed- she had awoken like that ever since she was a little girl. When he nudged her for the third time he was rewarded with a huge yawn accompanied by a slow stretching. Finally she opened her eyes, blinking several times before her gaze focused on him.

"Hello, Papa."

"Good evening, Sweetie. Did you have a nice nap?"

She rubbed her eyes, then propped herself up on an elbow. "Yes, thank you. I feel much better now. -How did you get in here?"

He pointed behind his back to an open door. "Our rooms are connected."

"Oh," she stated, dismissing the subject with a shrug. "What time is it?"

"Time for dinner. Are you hungry?"

"I am. What's on the menu?"

Bob shrugged and reached for the telephone. "I don't know, but I'll find out."

Half an hour later a delicious meal was served in Elizabeth's room. When the waiter had left, and they'd started to eat, Bob finally broke the news. "Jane called while you were sleeping."

"Oh, what did she want?"

"Well, there'll be additions to our Christmas party at Netherfield."

Elizabeth stopped chewing. "Additions? But who- ?" Apprehension grabbed at her, making her stop mid-sentence.

Bob watched her carefully, as he delivered the message. "It seems that William and his family are going to join our celebration."

Though she'd somehow known what was to come, it was beyond her to conceal her reaction. Paling visibly, she dropped her gaze to her plate and tightly clenched her fork. After clearing her throat audibly, she replied with all the cheerfulness she could muster: "How nice. The more the merrier, as they say."

Bob raised his eyebrows as he stared at her bowed head. It seemed that his conjecture had been right, this was definitely about William Darcy. Feeling that he had to step gently now, he stated quietly: "You're not happy about it."

She jerked her head up to glare at him defiantly. "And if she invited all of Derbyshire, I couldn't care less!" With that she jumped up from her chair and walked over to the window. Arms folded across her chest, she stared out into the dark.

Heaving a sigh, Bob got up and crossed the room to stand behind her. Cautiously he put his hands on her rigidly set shoulders. "Lizzy, I know that something is wrong with you. Why don't you talk to me?" he asked in a hushed voice.

She didn't answer, but- much to his relief- didn't draw back either. A few seconds elapsed before she started to relax noticeably. At last she shook her head and turned around to face him.

"Papa, I can't tell you what's wrong with me, because I don't know myself," she admitted, evidently dismayed.

Slowly she walked around him and returned to the table to slump into her chair. Bob was by her side in an instant and, sitting down next to her, took her cold hand between his. "But something must have happened to unsettle you so much."

Although she looked at him, it was as if she stared right through him and he wondered if she'd actually heard him. He was on the verge of calling her name to gain her attention, when she cut him off in a quiet voice, her gaze now fixed on him. "Papa, do you think I was happy with Tom?"

Bob was totally taken aback by her question. He opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again. Uncomfortably shifting in his chair, he let go of her hand and braced his elbows on his thighs, letting his eyes drop to the ground.

"Please, Papa, be honest," Elizabeth entreated, when she saw him fighting for an answer.

He took a deep breath and sat up again, meeting her anxious gaze. "You know that I was not... delighted about your choice of husband."

Since this was clearly a statement, Elizabeth simply nodded.

"As I told you then," Bob continued, "in my opinion, he was too old for you and seemed much too serious. But you were determined to have him."

Again she nodded.

He took another deep breath. "However...you proved me wrong. -At least up until after your second anniversary."

Elizabeth swallowed hard. "I assumed as much myself. There has to be a good reason why my memory chooses to deny me access from that specific point on." Since this was the first time she exposed herself so thoroughly, she suddenly felt the need for human contact and reached out for her father. "Tell me about it," she demanded shakily.

Bob took her hand and enfolded it between his once again, briefly reflecting on how to put his feelings into comprehensible words. "Well, during the first two years you seemed to be...you were...carefree and content- happy." He smiled at her tenderly. "I was so glad that all my doubts seemed to be resolved." The smile disappeared. "But shortly after your anniversary you changed markedly. At first you appeared to be angry, then you became thoughtful and insecure- and sad. And, moreover, you started to be secretive about your marriage- about your life in general. So, all in all, I'd say you were unhappy."

Tears started to roll down Elizabeth's cheeks while she listened to her father. Although she knew he was talking about her, she felt no emotional connection at all to this woman. While she could of course understand this story, it wasn't as if she'd been through it personally. That was exactly why she had never asked any questions about her lost year. She wanted to remember it instead of being told about it.

Bob patted her hand and asked solicitously: "Are you alright, Lizzy?"

"No, I'm not," she replied, shaking her head. "But that doesn't matter right now, does it? It's more important now that I find out what happened, regardless of how it makes me feel." Taking a deep breath, she resumed their conversation. "So- I didn't tell you what was going on?"

"No, and you didn't tell anybody else either- as far as I know. Not even Jane."

Holding on tighter to her father's hand, she averted her eyes and placed her next question. "Do you think, I...cheated on Tom?"

Bob looked at her totally perplexed, then he burst out laughing wholeheartedly. "Oh, Lizzy, no," he choked out. "Please, don't be absurd!"

However, as it dawned on him that she was truly distressed, he immediately restrained his amusement. "I'm sorry, dear. I couldn't help it..." He inhaled deeply. "Anyway, no- I don't think so. You're neither a cheater, nor a liar- you never were. Just where did that notion come from?"

She blushed profusely and bowed her head even deeper. Her voice was almost inaudible as she confessed: "It's William..."

Try as he might, Bob couldn't suppress a grin. "I thought as much," he admitted.

Her head came up and she stared at him incredulously, as she sputtered: "But...how...?"

"As I said already- I watch and I listen. And right now I'm planning on listening. So- tell me all about it."

Elizabeth closed her eyes briefly and heaved a sigh. Hoping fervently that it would be for the best, she started to talk.

Chapter 7 - Part 2

t was already past midnight when William finally gave up any attempt to sleep. His reeling mind wouldn't allow him even a minute's rest. After lying in the darkness of his room for some time, he got up and went downstairs to the library.

He poured himself a handsome amount of brandy and relaxed into one of the huge armchairs. Savouring his drink as it burned slightly on his tongue and left a warm path inside him until it reached his stomach, he leaned his head back and tried to sort out his thoughts. There were a hundred and one questions, but no answers. Fleetingly he asked himself why those answers should be so important- they wouldn't change a thing, anyway.

In truth- all emotions aside- there was only one bottom line: he'd been attracted to her, he had exposed himself, she had rejected him- end of story. Shaking his head, he laughed to himself.

"What's so funny, William dear?"

William all but jumped out of his chair at the sound of his cousin's voice. Pressing a hand to his racing heart, he took a deep breath and slumped back against the backrest. Chuckling, Richard walked over to the bar and helped himself to a straight scotch.

"Jumpy, eh?" he asked cheekily, as he returned and sat down across from his cousin.

"You almost scared me to death! I hadn't counted on anybody sneaking around the house this late at night," William retorted, visibly annoyed. "So, what are you doing here?"

Richard took a sip of his drink before he answered: "Well, as it is, I'm in a rather talkative mood of late. Thought you might want to- "

"Thank you- no. There's nothing to talk about."

"Oh, come on, man," he leaned forward and patted his cousin's knee. "Spill your guts!"

William inhaled deeply, trying to keep at bay his increasing anger with Richard's audacity. Nevertheless the danger was evident in his low voice, as he spoke through clenched teeth. "You're skating on thin ice, Rick. If you want to stay in good health, you'd better accept this advice- leave me alone."

Slightly taken aback, Richard raised his eyebrows at William's atypical behaviour. He'd never been into threatening anyone- let alone a member of the family. Taking it as a clear sign that he'd really underestimated the pressure his cousin was under, he decided at once to change tactics- this was too serious for mockery, no matter how good-natured.

"I'm sorry, Will," he said, deliberately keeping his tone quiet and gentle. "You've had to deal with a lot of trouble recently. I just wanted to say that I'm here for you- anytime."

William looked back at his cousin, his anger easing off with every word Richard said. He hung his head and stared into his glass as weariness spread through him, pushing away what little energy he'd had left. For the first time ever, he felt sorry for himself, and regretted his decision not to trust in his family and friends. -But he'd talked to Charles, hadn't he? And it had felt good. So why not take another chance? His power of endurance was receding all too quickly; he was afraid to imagine what would happen if it gave out completely. And Richard had never disappointed him, in fact, no member of his family ever had. Having made up his mind, he lifted his head again and found his cousin watching him expectantly.

"Alright..." he heaved a sigh, then added helplessly, "but I don't know where to begin."

"Let's start from today, and move backwards," Richard said, taking another sip of his drink.

"Today?" William asked blank-faced, earning a wry smile from his cousin.

"You don't think I'm blind, do you? What's going on between Elizabeth and you?"

"Elizabeth!" William huffed and rose from his chair, clearly intending to walk over to the window.

But Richard caught his forearm and pressed down on it, forcing him to sit down again. "Don't you give me that, Will! It's too late to back down- you've had your chance!"

William stared at him angrily. "She's the least of my worries, believe me!"

"Now is she?" Richard retorted, unable to suppress a smirk. "Funny, I'd say it's quite the opposite."

Leaning back in his chair, William accepted that he was trapped, but he didn't want to give in that easily. "There's nothing between us," he stated resolutely, hoping that Richard would relent and drop the subject.

However, his hope was shattered at his cousin's next remark. "But you wish there were!"

Still loath to discuss what concerned him most, William refrained from reacting.

Richard's brow furrowed in contemplation, as he tried to find the crux of the matter. "I don't see the problem...she's beautiful, she's smart, she's single- "

"Richard!" William snapped, eventually unable to restrain himself any longer. "She's a widow!"

"Her husband died- what?- eight months ago? This is the 21st century, Will. There's hardly anyone nowadays who sticks to a whole year of mourning."

"That's not the point, Rick."

"Then what is?"

Staring into his glass again, William mumbled something Richard didn't understand. So he leaned forward in his chair and looked at his cousin insistently. "Come again," he demanded.

William sighed and fortidied himself with a gulp of brandy, before repeating his answer. "She hates me."

Richard sat up straight in surprise. "Why should she do that?"

"She just does," William replied obstinately.

Heaving a sigh, Richard closed his eyes and silently counted to ten. His tone carefully controlled, he said slowly: "You know Will, I'm famous for my patience. But, I swear, you could wear down a saint. -If you don't open your mouth at once and give me more than one sentence at a time, I will not be held responsible for my actions."

Without a word William stood up and walked over to the window. Feeling that he'd finally broken his cousin's resistance, Richard didn't hold him back this time. Now he would have to wait for him to go at his own pace.

After a long silence William cleared his throat, but his voice was still croaky when he started to speak. "About 18 months ago, I told her that her husband was cheating on her. She didn't believe me- of course. She accused me of- " he squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed hard, struggling with his emotions. "Well, whatever- we had a vigorous fight." He laughed without humour. "She's one hell of a combatant, I can tell you that. However- in the end she shouted that she couldn't stand the sight of me and threw me out..."

While Richard had been listening to his cousin, he'd grown more and more agitated, till he was sitting on the edge of his chair. Breaking the ensuing silence, he asked incredulously: "You went to her house- "

"Apartment," William interrupted, turning away from the window.

Richard waved his hand impatiently. "Whatever- you went to her apartment to tell her that her husband cheated on her?"

William nodded, whereupon Richard shook his head in disbelief.

"Whatever possessed you to do that, William? -You didn't really expect her to believe you, did you?"

"Well, why ever not? I'm not a liar!" William defended himself indignantly.

"No, you aren't," Richard conceded. "I know that, as well as the rest of your family and friends. But in this case, William, that's of no importance, because no matter what- never ever tell a woman that she's been cheated on! Not even best friends are supposed to do that, unless she's already suspecting something and asks for their opinion."

"But why wouldn't she want to know?" William asked, incapable of understanding why anyone would prefer to be left in the dark.

Richard shrugged. "She just doesn't. As long as she's happy, of course. - What you don't know won't hurt you is a basic rule for many people. -But tell me what happened next."

Staring outside again, William resumed his story. "I saw her at Jane and Charles' wedding. Tom was there, too," he closed his eyes, as he struggled with the unpleasant memory. "You should have seen the smug expression on his face. He actually smirked at me. I could have-" His hand curled into a fist. Violently suppressing his fury, he forced it open again and continued in a more quiet tone. "At one point I managed to catch Elizabeth alone. I tried to talk sense into her, tried to convince her- but to no avail. She requested that I immediately desist from interfering with her life. As she saw it, my only intention was to ruin her marriage. Well, anyway- that was when I advanced to 'hateful man'."

William drained his glass in one big gulp and walked over to the bar for a refill.

Watching him with narrowed eyes, Richard vocalized the perception that shot through his head. "So that's why you acted so strangely when the wedding was mentioned. -I was wondering..."

William froze for a moment, then tossed back the refill, too, and poured himself another generous amount of brandy. Slowly he returned to the armchair, but instead of sitting down he put his forearms on the tall backrest, while he twirled the glass between his palms. He spoke with a faint slur, as he set about justifying himself. "I'm sorry- I lost control...but after the events of the afternoon..."

Richard raised his eyebrows in confusion and was about to pose a question, when William proceeded to speak. "She told me that she didn't like me...right after we-" he stopped again, biting down hard on his lower lip, blushing slightly.

"Right after you- what?" Richard asked, hardly able to conceal his curiosity. Had they gotten further along than he'd suspected?

William took his time in answering. He pondered how to best satisfy his cousin's inquisitiveness without giving away too much of the events lest he embarrass Elizabeth- and himself. His brain, however, already suffered from the effects of the strong alcohol he'd gulped down in so short a time and refused to cooperate the way it usually did. So he just stood there, looking rather stupid with his mouth hanging open, as the same words bounced off the walls of his skull over and over again: 'I want her...I kissed her...she doesn't like me...' - until he blurted them out loud.

Richard winced in his chair, a choked sound escaping him. He ducked his head and covered his eyes with his free hand. The urge to laugh out loud was so strong, that he broke out in a sweat as he struggled to suppress it. When he looked up again, William was glaring at him in offended silence.

"I'm sorry, Will, I know it's not funny," Richard managed to admit gravely. He took a deep breath to steady himself. "So she doesn't like you...but what about you? - Do you like her?"

Dumfounded William stared at his cousin. Again his jaw dropped as he once more attempted to penetrate the alcohol-induced haze his brain was wrapped up in. Alas, having already descended to a level where intelligence is overruled by emotions, no coherent thought occurred to him. All he knew was that he wanted her back in his arms- the feel of her, the taste of her, the smell of her - he wanted to bury himself deep inside of her...

Richard rolled his eyes at the sight of his cousin's obvious helplessness and finally took pity on him. Placing his glass on a small table by his side, he rose and walked over to William while he murmured: "No reply necessary..."

Gently he took the drink from his cousin's hand, setting it aside, too, and hooked an arm under his elbow. "I think you've had enough for tonight, Will. We'd better go to bed now."

Emerging from his stupor, William leaned heavily against Richard and whispered rather loudly: "I really want her, you know!"

"Do you now?" Richard asked in mock surprise, trying hard to suppress a smile, while he slowly led his cousin out of the room.

William nodded vigorously, stumbling slightly, causing Richard to tighten his hold on him. "And she wants me, too," he informed him proudly.

"Good for you," Richard replied, chuckling quietly.

As they made their way up the stairs, William suddenly started to giggle, surprising his cousin and causing them to lose balance. Thanks to his excellent reflexes, Richard managed to keep them from falling by clutching the banisters tightly. Despite himself, he had to laugh at William's antics. "What, William? What is it?"

"I'm gonna make her mine," he announced self-assured, pounding his chest with his fist.

"I thought you already did, Tarzan," Richard stated dryly, dragging his cousin further upstairs.

"Nah," William drawled, "didn' wanna scare her off...yeh know," he continued, winking comically at his cousin.

Fortunately they'd already reached the safety of the landing by the time William finished his remark, because Richard burst out laughing so hard that he would have been incapable of averting a fall. With a murmured "Let's go, braggart", he guided William to his room where he led him to the bed and let go of the grip he'd had around his waist. Bereft of proper support, William reeled slightly, then fell over onto the mattress, face first. Grunting, he rolled over to his back and with closed eyes began to sing in a low voice.

Curious about the tune his cousin was humming, Richard leaned closer. When he recognised it, he straightened up again, a delighted expression on his face. "Gotcha," he stated contently, making his way out of the room and closing the door behind him while William was still crooning Wagner's Wedding March.

Chapter 8 - Part 1

The days leading up to Christmas were busy as always, but this time even more so. There were business matters to attend to- mainly in preparation for the upcoming year-end closings; due to the spontaneously arranged celebration at Netherfield additional presents had to be purchased for everyone invited; and the house itself had to be prepared to accommodate more guests than originally planned.

William worked hard during this week, but found himself to be quite distracted more often than not. He still blushed involuntarily at the thought of his nocturnal chat with Richard- having always been a rather moderate drinker, he had never ever lost control like that before. The fact that he couldn't for the life of him remember the final part of their conversation, combined with the sly smile on his cousin's face when they had met for breakfast the next day had really made him feel ill at ease. However, despite his repeated enquiries, Richard had stuck to his initial declaration that nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He'd taken his leave soon after to go to work, baffling William by humming the Wedding March as he went out of the door. Though he was somewhat vexed by Richard's behaviour, he could do nothing but accept his reticence. At least, he found solace in the knowledge that he could trust his cousin implicitly with whatever secret there was to be kept.

First and foremost in his thoughts, however, was Elizabeth. The faster Christmas approached, the harder it was for him to concentrate on anything but her. Although he still didn't know how it had all come about, he inwardly owned up to wanting her, wanting her badly- despite the way they had parted at Pemberley. Pemberley- their encounter in his study...when he closed his eyes it all came rushing back to him, how she felt in his arms, how she smelled and tasted- it still caused waves of desire to course through his body every time he thought about it.

Yet, at the same time he knew that it could never be- that he could never have her. He had set on fire the dynamite that had finally blown up her marriage, albeit unintentionally. Actually he'd only had the best of intentions- he'd wanted to warn her, and to make the truth known. But he made a big mistake by not even taking into consideration that she might be completely unaware of her husbands activities. And moreover- he'd seriously underestimated Patricia's furtiveness. She had been there before him, spreading her lies, biassing her against him, with Tom's help, of course. In the end he had been labeled a liar and a cheat, and he hadn't had any proper arguments to answer back.

Elizabeth didn't remember what had transpired between them, not yet. If she ever did, she would never let him touch her again, she probably wouldn't even want to be in the same room with him. Anyway, he didn't have the faintest idea how to use this short reprieve for his benefit. Telling her about their tainted past was not an option, since it was absolutely beyond him to put her once again through the agony she must have undergone- and furthermore it would be the deathblow for any feelings she might have developed for him. But to take advantage of those feelings and act upon his own was even less of an option, because if anything ever happened between them, he would have to tell her the truth, or he would despise himself for the rest of his life- which brought him directly back to his first so-called option. It was a vicious circle with no way out. So his resolution could only be not to enter it at all.

But the emotions she had brought back to life for him were not to be dismissed so easily. They caused him to mull over his decision time and again, making it impossible for him to accept that there shouldn't be even the slightest chance for him to win her affection. At long last, one more option crossed his mind- he could go after friendship.

This would allow him to keep her at a safe distance, and at the same time provide him with the opportunity to show her the real William Darcy. If she knew who he really was, and how he really was, she might be favourably inclined to forgive him, should the truth be finally revealed- provided she possessed the generous nature he desperately hoped for. He was not totally comfortable with this notion, though, since he knew full well that he was deliberately taking the path of least resistance. A course of action he normally considered beneath him, but under the given circumstances it couldn't be helped...

So as soon as he made up his mind, he decided to start his venture by trying to make up for his behaviour at Pemberley. Granted, they both hadn't been at their best that day, but it was still no excuse for the way he had treated her after their passionate...interlude. True, she'd hurt him- but not on purpose, if he'd interpreted her reaction correctly. Despite this realisation, he had hurt her back, purposefully- childish, ridiculous behaviour, definitely out of character for him. But that seemed to be her natural gift- eroding his self-control to a point where he didn't recognise himself anymore.

In view of this perception, he seriously doubted his capability to spend three days at Netherfield in her company without giving in to his desires...

~ * ~

Elizabeth felt better than she had in a long time. To confide in her father had helped more than she would have anticipated- she could hardly understand now why she'd been so hesitant about talking to him. From the day she was born, he had been her favourite parent. And after her mother had left the family when Elizabeth was ten years old, their relationship had become even closer. He had done a great job in raising his daughters as a single father. In spite of running his business, he had always been there for them, whether they needed a band-aid for a scraped knee, or some advice for whatever problems- imaginary or real- bothered them. But above all, he had given them values- honesty, fidelity and reliability.

In the course of their conversation she discovered once again that she trusted him implicitly. His repeated assurances that she had been faithful to her husband had finally put her at ease, at least in that respect. Yet, what he had told her about her marriage was still somewhat unsettling. She couldn't imagine at all what could have made her so very unhappy. Now that she was sure she hadn't cheated on Tom, she couldn't help but ask herself if it had been the other way round. But she dismissed this notion immediately. They'd had a wonderful life- well-regulated and quiet. Not overly passionate, but nonetheless satisfactory, or so she thought. Maybe it hadn't been enough for Tom, maybe he'd missed something. Highly unlikely, though, because he had set the tone in their life, and she had willingly followed his lead. If their way of living hadn't been to his liking, he could have changed it.

When she finally realised that all those wild guesses wouldn't provide her with an answer, she promised herself anew to find out the truth as soon as time allowed it. She didn't yet know how to manage, but there had to be a way- of that she was certain.

As far as William was concerned, she was resolved to follow her father's advice. After listening to her story with his usual sympathy, he suggested that first of all, she make up for her behaviour at Pemberley. She still blushed when she thought about her childish, immature reaction; despite her embarrassment she shouldn't have lashed out at him. It hadn't been his fault, anyway- at least, not his alone. They'd both been overwhelmed by their feelings- for reasons that still eluded her. But as her father had pointed out quite correctly, emotions could hardly be explained, they could only be dealt with.

So it was up to her how to handle her sudden attraction to William Darcy- not an easy task, in light of her antipathy towards him. Though it had abated substantially since meeting him again, it still lurked beneath the surface. But she was willing to let him change her mind, provided that he was willing to meet her halfway.

Giving in to the desire he evoked in her was out of the question- for now, but why not aspire to friendship? If they got to know each other better, then maybe one day...After all, the Bingleys held him in high esteem, and so did her father considering the way he'd talked about him. All in all William seemed to be much more agreeable than she'd thought. Well, one more day to go, and she would find out...

~ * ~

Christmas Eve dawned brightly with a clear sky and a strong winter-sun, making the freshly fallen snow glisten- a slap in the face for William's bad mood.

He had dreamt about Elizabeth- intense, erotic dreams. When he'd woken up for the third time, painfully aroused, he had been unable to fall asleep again. Cursing his subconscious mind, he had once again fought to establish his self-control. How was he to survive three days under the same roof with her, when touching her and holding her was strictly out of the question? The temptation to back down from his visit to Netherfield had been greater than ever, but his disposition wouldn't allow him to break his promise. However, he had delayed his departure from Pemberley as long as possible.

Now he was sitting in his car, staring at his best friend's house. He saw a few cars already parked along the driveway- one of which he identified as Richard's- and assumed he was the last to arrive. Another unusual occurrence in his life.

He would have remained there forever, if not for Jane who spotted him through a window and only seconds later opened the door to wave him in. Heaving a sigh, he got out of his car, and raised a hand in greeting. As he lifted his traveling bag out of the boot, Charles came running toward him, a huge grin on his face.

"Will, I'm glad you finally made it! We were starting to get worried. Another five minutes, and Lizzy and Jane would have arranged a search party! -Come on, let me help you."

With that he took the traveling bag and trudged back to the house, seemingly oblivious to his friend's astounded silence. Yet, when he realised that William wasn't following him, he turned back and shouted: "Will, get moving! You're gonna freeze your ass off!"

His rude remark earned a glare of mock disapproval from his wife and a roar of laughter from the others who awaited him at the door.

Elizabeth, however, couldn't manage more than a faint smile since her attention was focused solely on William. Watching him inhale deeply and square his shoulders, she instantly recalled the first time she'd seen him do that. His metamorphosis! - Her uneasiness surged to unknown heights, making her heart pound rapidly, while she desperately strove for calmness. Unable to take her eyes off of him, she observed with bated breath as he approached the house in a determined stride, cutting a fine figure in his tight jeans and black leather jacket.

William strained his eyes to catch a glimpse of Elizabeth, but he couldn't make her out among the others. With a hammering heart that shortened his breath, he felt like floating and wondered briefly how he managed to keep on walking. Somehow he did and when he reached his friends, he was greeted with lots of bear hugs and kisses. But still he couldn't see her.

Just as he was about to enquire after her, he felt a familiar prickly sensation on the back of his neck that told him she was standing behind him. While he registered dimly that the others- as if acting on orders- suddenly hurried off into different directions, he turned around slowly.

And there she was, her hand still resting against the door, making him assume that she'd been hiding behind it. Her head was bowed.

"Elizabeth," he spoke her name softly, silently praying to nameless gods that she wouldn't turn away from him.

She didn't- instead she looked up slowly and their gazes met. William's heart gave a thud, when he saw the wariness in her eyes. Suppressing the strong urge to reach out and touch her, he clasped his hands tightly behind his back and took a deep breath. He wasn't used to begging for forgiveness, but he knew it had to be.

"I have to apologise...for my behaviour...at Pemberley," he stammered, a faint blush tingeing his cheeks. Despite himself, he held her gaze.

The change in her expression was almost instantaneous, as a relieved smile curved her full lips. Her hand came up to his face, but stopped in midair and lightly fell on his upper arm.

"It was my fault, William," she confessed quietly. "I behaved like a child..."

He shook his head determinedly and covered her hand with his. "It shouldn't have happened in the first place...I got carried away- "

She turned her hand beneath his, sending a heat wave through his body as their palms touched. "We shouldn't fight about who's more to blame...we both were not at our best on that day."

"My thoughts exactly," he smiled warmly into her eyes. "I'm so glad we could settle that."

Shaking off the sudden tension, Elizabeth nodded in agreement and stepped away from him. "Now, why don't you take off your jacket, and join us in the kitchen? Mrs. Albright is on leave, so we have to look after ourselves."

"I'll be right there," he declared happily, as he watched her disappear down the hall.

~ * ~

The rest of the afternoon passed by in perfect harmony with lots of fun and laughter- and lots of wine and beer. When it was time for dinner they all moved to the large dining room to enjoy a light meal they had prepared for themselves.

Elizabeth felt totally at ease as she looked across the table at William. He was laughing heartily about something Richard had said, showing off a pair of very intriguing dimples. It was a startling experience for her to watch him interact with his close friends. She had never seen him so utterly relaxed, never known him to be so talkative- or downright charming. No wonder she'd misjudged him so badly- he had done a great job of hiding what seemed to be his private side.

When their gazes met, he gave her a tender smile, making her heart skip a beat. She returned his smile in kind, losing herself in his soulful eyes while her palms started to tingle. When she saw William's fingers tentatively creep across the tablecloth in her direction, she didn't have any second thoughts and lifted her hand to meet him halfway. They were both so totally lost in a world of their own that they almost jumped out of their chairs in surprise at the ringing of the telephone. Jane stood up to answer the call in the living room, unable to suppress a smirk as she looked down at her sister's bowed head and blushing cheeks.

William didn't fare any better. He felt the colour rising in his face and looked around, only to find out that he was being watched closely by five pairs of eyes.

"What?" he asked, daring anyone to make fun of him. Yet, he knew he had failed miserably when they all dissolved into laughter, and despite his embarrassement, he couldn't help but smile sheepishly.

The sound of the doorbell interrupted their merriment. They looked at each other in surprise, since no one else was expected this evening.

"Who could that be?" Charles asked, obviously puzzled.

Glad to escape, William got up and strode into the hall, calling back over his shoulder: "We will never find out if nobody answers that door, don't you think?"

The second he left the room, Jane came hurrying in through the other door, telephone still in hand. "Charles- " she began, but stopped abruptly when she noticed William's absence. Her face fell in dismay. "Oh no, too late!" she exclaimed.

"What is it, darling? Is anything wrong?" Charles hurried to her side in evident concern.

Before she could answer, the sound of a penetrating voice was heard from the hall. Those who recognised it winced visibly while Chris and Richard exchanged a confused look.

Charles rolled his eyes heavenward, as if pleading for strength. "Caroline," he sighed.

"Louisa called to warn us," Jane explained, fidgeting with the phone in her hand. "Ethan let slip that William would be here and Caroline was on her way before they could hold her back."

"Ha- let slip! My brother-in-law? Never! He did that on purpose to get rid of her!" Charles huffed.

"Well, whatever," Jane retorted impatiently. "You go and help William! You know he can't handle her!" She literally pushed her reluctant husband towards the door.

"But I don't want to go all by myself," Charles whined comically, trying to dodge Jane's shoving hands.

Raising his voice above the ensuing laughter, Bob addressed his younger daughter, a foxy smile on his face: "Why don't you join him, Lizzy? I'm sure Will would appreciate your...assistance."

Leaving her no chance to do more than stare at her father in total surprise, Charles had grabbed her hand to pull her out her chair and all but dragged her into the hall.

They stopped short at the sight they beheld. William was standing there as stiff as a poker, arms crossed over his chest, while Caroline seemed to snuggle up against him, purring something incomprehensible in a low voice.

In an attempt to refrain from laughing, Charles cleared his throat and hesitantly stepped closer. But Elizabeth outstripped him; driven by a feeling akin to jealousy, she was at William's side in no time, hooking her arm through the crook of his elbow. Entirely ignoring Caroline, who staggered back in perplexity, she gave him an impish smile.

"There you are, dear. I was starting to miss you!" That said she went on tiptoe to plant a firm kiss on his cheek. When he ascertained her intention, William smiled at her thankfully and instantly took advantage of the situation by putting his arm around her waist to draw her even closer. In response Elizabeth leaned against him before turning to the unbidden guest. "Why, hello Caroline. What a surprise! We didn't expect to see you today."

Caroline had watched the whole exchange with suspiciously narrowed eyes, her gaze darting back and forth between the two of them. Momentarily pulled out of her speculations by Elizabeth's salutation, she seemed to search her mind for an appropriate answer. Sensing that his sister was up to no good, Charles eventually stepped forward, thus blocking her view of the evidently happy couple and giving them a chance to escape- which they did.

"Nice to see you, sis," he mumbled, gracing her make-up covered cheek with a very curt peck.

But Caroline was obviously in no mood for niceness. "Charles," she hissed, impetuously grabbing his arm. "What kind of spectacle was that?"

Charles' blue eyes widened innocently. "What are you talking about?"

Plaing her hands on her hips and tapping her foot impatiently, she just stared at him.

"Oh..." Charles announced, as if surprised at her ignorance. "You mean Lizzy and Will? -I really thought you knew. It's been going on for a while now."

"Ha- that remains to be seen!" she stated scornfully and brushed past her brother to sweep into the dining room.

Chapter 8 - Part 2

Caroline's already bad mood deteriorated even more throughout the course of the evening. While everybody had fun decorating the Christmas tree, she kept a jealous watch over Elizabeth and William, eagerly trying to discern any evidence of deceit- but without avail. They were clearly smitten with each other, touching and holding hands whenever possible, apparently oblivious to their surroundings. The other members of the party didn't pay them much attention, except for occasional, good-natured banter from Richard which they didn't seem to mind at all, or an approving smile from someone who happened to pass by them. All in all- and much to Caroline's irritation- nobody showed the remotest sign of astonishment or discomfort.

William greatly enjoyed the opportunity to act on feelings that otherwise would have remained hidden deep inside. To soothe his guilty conscience, he told himself that he would never proceed any farther than this. A kiss on the cheek, a gentle touch or simply holding hands- innocent pleasures he could answer for. He had vowed not to take advantage of her, and he was resolved to be true to his word.

Elizabeth, on the other hand, had no such qualms- in fact, she had given them up during the past hours. Her greatest fear, namely to be confronted with the William Darcy of former times, had turned out to be groundless. Other than that, she saw no reason not to act on the desire she felt. She basked in William's innocent advances and returned them truly- but why not proceed any farther? Although she knew that they were supposed to be acting, her feelings were sincere and she refused to believe that his were not.

Shortly before midnight, William finally gave in to his fatigue. He bid his friends a good night, carefully avoiding coming too close to Caroline, before he leaned in to Elizabeth and planted a sound kiss on her mouth. Loud enough for everyone to hear he whispered: "I'll be waiting for you upstairs, darling. Don't make it too long." Winking at her, he tucked his hands into his trouser pockets and leisurely walked out of the room.

Elizabeth looked after him, her heart pounding wildly. Could he be serious? Enlivened by the prospects of possible pleasures to come, her vivid imagination immediately leapt into overdrive. She was so preoccupied that she almost missed Caroline's snide remark. "Well, you sure wasted no time in ensnaring William, Eliza. -You've been a widow for how long now...?"

Completely ignoring the indignant gasps and hisses of the others, Elizabeth slowly turned to Caroline, a bored expression on her face. "To answer your question, Caroline, my husband died almost 9 months ago. So- stop spitting your poison."

With that she stood up to take her leave while Caroline stared at her, mouth agape. Not giving her the slightest chance to recover, Elizabeth turned to her once again. "Oh and- a well-meant warning. Keep your hands off William." Addressing the rest of the party, she bid them good night and was gone.

Still grinning about the look on Caroline's face, she swiftly made her way up the stairs. The higher she climbed, however, the more her grin faded, and her argument with Charles' sister was soon forgotten.

She had been self-confident as long as they'd been in company, but at the thought of being all alone with him, her conviction faltered. What would she do if he was waiting for her? Could she really stick to her decision and just seize the opportunity? Opportunity for what? Casual sex? When she reached the stair head, she had convinced herself that William had been joking and was already sound asleep. Nevertheless she stopped to look discreetly up and down the hallway- it was empty.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she set off. When she heard a door being opened behind her, she quickened her pace to reach her room. Beyond a doubt she knew it was William. Much to her chagrin she realised that she was beginning to panic. Greedily she reached out for the door handle, but it was too late. Her hand stopped in midair when she heard him call her name in his soft, deep voice.

Inhaling deeply in an attempt to calm down, she turned around slowly. Her breath caught at the familiar tenderness in his expression as he strode towards her. He closed the distance between them until only a few inches remained. His scent went straight to her head, making her forget all her misgivings. "Yes?" she whispered, unable to speak any louder.

A gentle smile appeared on his face. "I wanted to thank you for saving me from Caroline...She scares the hell out of me." He blushed slightly at his admission, giving the impression of a little boy apologizing for a cheap trick.

Elizabeth's melting heart assisted efficiently in producing a smile that matched his. "You're very welcome. I'd do it again anytime. It was...fun." He nodded, but didn't reply.

Gradually their smiles vanished as the tension that had been building between them became too strong to ignore. Their eyes dropped simultaneously to each other's mouth, watching tongues dart out quickly to moisten lips that had suddenly gone dry. They looked up again and their gazes locked. Intellectual power shut down and instinct took over as they both moved.

William bent his head while Elizabeth went on tiptoe to meet him half-way. Their lips touched tentatively, parted, touched again- and lingered. William's hands closed on her waist, drawing her to him while he increased the pressure of his mouth on hers. Elizabeth followed him willingly, lifting her hands to his upper arms and at the same time slightly opening her lips to him. Probing gently, his tongue followed the bow of her upper lip to the corner of her mouth and back. She moaned quietly, touching the tip of her tongue to his- and that was all it took.

Groaning deeply, William invaded her mouth. He locked his arms around her, one hand pressing her to him, the other moving upward to cup the back of her head. Immediately she molded her body to his and slid her hands up to his neck to caress his bare skin. Then she dipped her warm fingers underneath the collar of his polo reaching down as far as she could. And all the while she returned his kiss with equal passion, her tongue meeting his in a carnal dance.

Grasping her buttocks, he bent his knees and lifted her up to press his hard shaft to the soft juncture of her legs, the desire to make her his overpowering anything else. Elizabeth broke their kiss and let her head fall to his shoulder to stifle the cry that burst forth, while she tried to rub herself against him.

"I hope I'm not interrupting something too important."

Though Elizabeth's passion-dazed brain registered the unpleasant sound of Caroline's voice, she refused to react to it. But William stiffened noticeably and slid her down to the ground. When he tried to draw back from her, however, she tightened her embrace and peered around him at Caroline who stood in the middle of the hallway with a smug expression on her face.

"You sure are, Caroline, " Elizabeth retorted, and- impishly glancing up at William- added, "but we can pick up where we left off in no time, can't we, darling?"

William smiled down at her, pleasantly surprised that she admitted her desire so openly. But did she really mean what she said? He needn't have worried, though- Elizabeth had already made up her mind. Never taking her eyes from his, she addressed Caroline once again.

"You'll have to excuse us now, Caroline. Whatever it is you wanted, it will have to wait until tomorrow. -Good night."

She took William's hand and pulled him into the solitude of her room, banging the door shut behind them. With him in tow she made her way to the bed to switch on a small light on the bedside table. "There, that's better," she stated, turning around to him.

He looked down at her, marvelling at her beauty, yet unsure how to proceed. Caroline's intrusion had brought back a scrap of his sanity, and restored his resolution not to take advantage of her. Elizabeth watched him with bated breath while he struggled for the right words to say. Silently she pleaded with him not to reject her. But her face fell, when they finally came: "Elizabeth, we shouldn't..." his voice caught at the hurt he saw in her eyes.

She swallowed hard, before asking shakily: "Don't you want me?"

It was more than he could stand. Crushing her to him almost violently, he placed random kisses all over her face, murmuring in between: "Oh, Elizabeth- Lizzy- I want you more...need you more...than my next breath."

"Show me," she whispered, while her body melted against his.

Desire swept through him like a heat wave, burning everything in its wake. Only once, he told himself, once would suffice. Afterward he would tell her everything, throw himself on her mercy. Then his control shattered and he sought her mouth for a searing kiss. When she opened up to his probing tongue, she made a purring sound in her throat which he answered with a deep groan. Again and again their tongues clashed, stroking, sucking, dancing wildly.

He savoured the softness of her body, the roundness of her curves, but it just wasn't enough- he wanted her naked. Obviously her need matched his, because while he pulled down the zipper at the back of her dress, her fingers worked frantically to get his polo out of the waistband of his trousers. She made short work of it, pushing him back to pull it off over his head and carelessly drop it to the floor. Immediately his hands returned to her dress to tug it from her shoulders and pull her arms free. It slid down her body and pooled in a heap around her feet, leaving her with nothing but her bra and panties and a pair of flesh-coloured silk stockings. He took a shuddering breath, as he took in the vision before him, worshipping her with his eyes.

But Elizabeth needed more. Slowly she leaned toward him and began to caress his naked chest with her hot tongue, making him shake violently. With unsteady fingers he reached around her and fumbled with the clasp of her bra. When he finally succeeded in opening it, she hunched her shoulders and discarded it.

At last they came together, meeting flesh to flesh, moaning with relief at the contact, mindless with desire. While her hands stroked up and down his back, he lifted her up into his arms and slowly lowered her to the bed. Lying down beside her, propped up on an elbow, he reached out to fill his palm with her soft breast. Her whole body jumped in response, arching up against him, compelling him to bend his head and close his mouth over her tight nipple.

Elizabeth thought she would die of the pleasure his touch evoked. The aching emptiness that grew between her legs and longed to be filled, forced her to turn to William and tear at the fly of his trousers. He helped her unzip it, then hooked his thumbs under the waistband of both trousers and briefs and tugged them down. His straining penis sprang free, thrusting heavenward.

Unconsciously licking her lips, Elizabeth stared at him, her anticipation rising inexorably. He turned back to her to strip off her stockings and panties impatiently and cover her mound with his hand. Instantly she opened her legs to give him better access. His fingers played with her soft folds and gently rimmed the opening to her body, one finger sinking into her a little to find her moist and ready.

As he watched her heaving breasts, the delicate flushing of her skin, and felt her hips arch upward, he knew he couldn't wait a second longer. Quickly he moved between her legs and slid up her body. Elizabeth grabbed for him eagerly to guide him to her, holding her breath when she felt the head of his shaft prodding her entrance.

Braced on his arms above her, William framed her face with his hands and gazed into her eyes as he slowly began to push into her, until he was sheathed inside her to the hilt. The feeling of her tight, wet warmth enveloping him, rippling gently to adjust to his rigid length, almost sent him over the edge. Not wanting it to end so quickly, he held himself still to gather the remnants of his control. But Elizabeth wouldn't have it. She expelled a long sigh, luxuriating in the feeling of being stretched and filled by his throbbing male flesh. Sliding her hands down his back to cup his buttocks, she tilted up her hips to take him even deeper. "Move," she breathed hoarsely and searched his mouth for a hot kiss. Her quiet demand smashed his control into smithereens and he began thrusting heavily, a low groan building in his chest and working up its way to his throat. Elizabeth met him stroke for stroke, wrapping her legs around his hips and her arms around his back, tension building slowly inside her. Breaking their kiss to gasp for breath, William pressed his burning face to her neck and pounded into her faster, unable to hold back any longer.

Matching his speed, Elizabeth's hips undulated, the tension spiraling into a tighter and tighter coil. When she felt him grow even bigger inside of her, the coil suddenly snapped. She cried out as her whole body clenched, then surged wildly. Her climax hit her, sending great waves of sensation through her. The rhythmic tightening of her inner muscles was more than he could take. Crying her name, he arched back as his seed erupted into her in a forceful orgasm that seemed to go on forever and left him feeble and limp. Desperately gulping in air, he collapsed on top of her.

Clinging to each other, they didn't move for a few minutes, until he lifted his head to look at her. When he saw that she was crying, his heart squeezed painfully at the thought that she might regret what had just happened. But when she managed a wobbly smile, he breathed a sigh of relief. Gently he dried her wet cheeks with his thumbs, kissing her softly, trying to comfort her.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked carefully. She sniffed and nodded, taking a shuddering breath. "I...It's just that...I've never felt like this before- never."

He smiled tenderly, overjoyed by her admission. "It's the same for me."

She looked at him doubtfully.

"I swear," he whispered.

"Thank you," she whispered back.

When he wanted to draw back from her, she held on to him tightly. "No, not yet."

"But I'm too heavy for you, I will crush you."

"Just a few minutes...please."

He eased a bit to the side, so she didn't have to bear his full weight and thus nestled together they fell asleep.

Chapter 9 - Part 1

It was still dark outside when Elizabeth woke up again, feeling well rested and content. Without having to think for a second she knew where she was and what had happened- she knew it in her heart.

She noticed that they'd switched positions sometime during the past hours. He was lying on his back now, his arm holding her tightly to his left side. Her hand was resting on his bare chest, their legs were wrapped together. With a soft sigh, she cuddled even closer to his warm body, savouring his nearness. It wasn't enough, though. She needed to see the man who had brought her so much pleasure.

Careful not to disturb him, she slowly lifted her head from the hollow of his shoulder and opened her eyes to take in his sleeping form. Starting at his dark brown, unruly hair, her gaze wandered over his perfectly chiselled features, down to his broad, sleek chest that gently rose and fell with the rhythm of his deep breathing. She stopped where her hand lay above his heart, delighting in the contrast of her pale skin against the slightly bronzed hue of his.

A dreamy smile graced her lips as she continued her perusal, oblivious to the fact that her hand followed the path her eyes were taking. Shortly below his navel, however, she was detained by the blanket they were covered with. At the thought of what was hidden beneath it, her heartbeat increased and a blush crept into her cheeks. Though she was somewhat surprised at her body's vehement reaction, she gave in to her desire without any consideration.

Bending down, she planted a gentle kiss on his stomach as her hand disappeared underneath the covers. Instantly the grip around her waist tightened and his abdominals quivered under her lips. She looked up into his face and found him staring back at her with an intensity that made her gasp.

Eager to see her expression, William watched her with bated breath while he waited for her touch. But when her fingers finally curled around him, the delightfulness of the feeling caused him to close his eyes and push his head back into the pillow, exhaling on a low groan. Two slow strokes of her hand brought him fully erect.

Watching his reaction to her caresses heightened Elizabeth's own arousal. She stretched herself out along his body and straddled his thigh, rubbing her wetness against it. His muscles tensed in response, and his hand moved down to cup her buttocks. The urge to take him inside of her was very strong, but first of all she wanted to give him pleasure. She lowered her mouth to his nipple and grazed it lightly with her teeth, eliciting a strangled "Oh God" from him. Smiling wickedly, she circled it with her tongue, than moved to his right side to fondle the other nipple as well, earning a similar response.

William felt as if he couldn't get enough air into his lungs, when she began to trail hot, moist kisses along his breastbone, down across his stomach and abdomen, all the time stroking his rigid shaft. All he could think of was her wetness that slid along his leg, as she moved further down. He wanted to be inside of her and feel her silky tightness clasp him. But not a second later even those primal thoughts eluded him completely at the feeling of Elizabeth's tongue licking the head of his erection, then swirling around it. When she finally took him into her mouth, his mind went blank, and he began rocking his hips in rhythm with her gentle sucking.

Elizabeth was totally engrossed in her task, taking delight in the heady taste of his arousal and his musky scent. She heard him call her name and felt his fingers delve into her hair to span her skull. But when his movements became frantic and he hardened inside her mouth, her own body's calling could no longer be ignored. Her heart pounded wildly and her breathing was ragged when she let go of him.

They looked into each others eyes, as she straddled his hips and held his shaft steady to sink down on him. Both exhaled on a long shuddering breath, pausing for a moment to savour the feeling of being joined again in that unique way.

When she started to ride him slowly, his hands closed briefly around her waist, then slid up her body to cup her breasts and rub her nipples with his thumbs. Again she made that purring sound in her throat, as they puckered immediately. The desire to feel his mouth on her sensitive skin made her lean down to him, curling her fingers around his shoulders. William lifted his head and circled the extended bud with his tongue before taking it into his mouth to suck strongly.

Elizabeth cried out and felt herself opening up to him even more. He must have felt it, too, because his hands were back at her waist, holding her above him to slam his hips upward and reach into her as deep as possible. Crying out, she shuddered violently, while her inner muscles grabbed at him. They both felt the inexorable nearing of climax and started to grind their bodies together almost brutally, going at a frantic pace.

Suddenly Elizabeth stiffened for a second, tightened around him, and felt as if she were flying apart into a million blazing pieces. With one more thrust, William arched convulsively beneath her and followed her into oblivion.

Panting and sweating and unable to move they held on to each other, waiting for their senses to return. Finally William managed to lift his arm high enough to draw the blanket over their cooling bodies. After that Herculian effort his hand dropped and came to rest on Elizabeth's back.

"Feel good?" she murmured drowsily.

"Like I died and went to heaven," he rasped.

She giggled quietly. "No, you didn't." To demonstrate her point, she lifted her buttom to press herself down on him, making him jump.

He chuckled and slapped her backside lightly. "You little witch!"

Slowly she stretched out her legs, careful to keep him inside of her and snuggled up to him with a content sigh.

The next few minutes passed in silence, until she propped herself up on her left elbow and began to draw lazy circles around his nipple. Unwilling to look at him, she watched the motion of her fingers. "William...?"

"Hmmm?" he purred with closed eyes, obviously enjoying her ministrations. When nothing more came, he turned his head to her and lazily opened his eyes. "What is it?" She stole a glance at him, then her gaze dropped again. "I was wondering..." she hesitated, took a deep breath and plunged forward. "I was wondering if this has ever happened before- I mean, before tonight."

Her eyes then fastened on him, while she anxiously awaited his answer. But he just looked at her with furrowed brows, definitely confused.

"You and me- we...It was so...wonderful...for a first," she tried to explain.

"First times should be like this."

"But they usually aren't," she insisted.

His lips curved into a smirk. "Lucky us."

She pinched his nipple slightly, making him wince. He covered her hand with his to stop her.

"Ouch! What was that for?"

"For teasing me!" Her eyes dropped to his chest. "Please William..."

When he realised she was genuinely distressed, he gently lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Elizabeth..." his expression was very serious as he took her hand to his mouth to kiss her palm ardently. "Lizzy...if this had ever happened before, do you really think I would have let you go? Don't you think I would have done everything to keep you by my side?"

The brightest smile he'd ever seen slowly grew on her beautiful face, making his heart almost burst with emotions. Rendered speechless by this sudden onslaught, he pressed her hand to his cheek, then kissed it again and reached for her to brush his lips tenderly against hers. With a soft sigh, she put her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

After a while her regular breathing told him that she'd gone back to sleep. He would have joined her gladly, but his swirling thoughts wouldn't let his mind come to rest.

What was it he'd felt upon seeing her radiant face? He didn't have a name for it, since it seemed to consist of so many different sentiments. His brow furrowed in contemplation as he tried to sort them out- contentment, peace, happiness, completeness, a sense of rightness and belonging.

Could this be...love?

The one feeling he had sought after for all of his adult life- the feeling his parents had shared so openly? Georgiana's words about Chris came back to him: 'He's my other half.'

Did he feel the same way about Elizabeth? To his utter amazement he realised that he did. He let this new awareness sink in slowly to come up with the only conclusion he could draw- he had truly and honestly fallen in love with her.

The irony of his discovery didn't escape him, though. Elizabeth Baxter-Harding- of all people! If this was meant to be the punishment for his refusal to publicly expose Patricia and Tom, nothing could be more effective.

How could he ever explain to her what had happened without losing her? At the thought of being separated from her forever, a surge of possessiveness rushed through him, causing him to tighten his grip around her back. Elizabeth stirred slightly and mumbled something unintelligible, but went back into deep sleep at once.

Waiting for her to settle down again, William held himself still while he pondered his options. As long as her memory wasn't restored, there was no way he could make her believe his story. And even if she remembered one day, it all depended on how much she'd already known when the accident had occurred.

Despite his silent resolution to tell her everything, he hadn't wasted a single thought on it in the aftermath of their first time together. And now, after the second time, his determination was even weaker than before. He couldn't forsake the love he'd only just found; he didn't want to be alone again. He wanted to be with her day after day, year after year- till death do us part. Holding on to that thought, he finally drifted into a dreamless sleep.

~ * ~

Some time later the door vibrated in its hinges as someone knocked on it forcefully. Then Richard's voice boomed through the hallway. "Lizzy, Will- wake up, you sleepy heads! Father Christmas was here! Time to open the presents!"

The lovers inside of the room lay facing each other, their limbs intertwined. William was the first to react to his cousin's calling. Not bothering to open his eyes, he freed himself from Elizabeth's embrace and rolled to his back. Clasping her to his side, he cleared his throat. "Stop shouting, Rick! We're not deaf!"

There was a long silence on the other side of the door, then it opened slowly and Richard's face appeared in the gap. After staring at the couple in complete disbelief for a few seconds, his expression slowly changed into a sly smile. "I'll be damned," he muttered under his breath.

William's head jerked around, eyes wide open. "Rick! What do you think you are doing here? Get out!"

"Alright, alright, I'm gone. But make haste...with..." he gestured towards the bed, "well, with...ah, you know." Wiggling his eyebrows, he made a swift retreat.

Stifling a yawn, William dropped back onto the pillow. He turned to Elizabeth and pulled her to his chest. Huddling closer, she nuzzled his throat and inhaled his musky sent. "Good morning, Will," she murmured against his skin. With closed eyes, he revelled in the feeling of her warm breath brushing over him.

"Good morning, love," he answered dreamily.

Elizabeth went very still in his arms upon hearing how he addressed her. Love? Up to now she hadn't even thought about it- it was much too soon for such a commitment. Hoping fervently that he felt the same way about it, she dismissed her musings and decided to overlook his gaffe.

When William noticed her withdrawal, he was momentarily confused, until he realised what he'd just said. Too soon, he thought while he mouthed a silent curse at his imprudence, and tensely waited for her reaction. To his profound relief, she relaxed back into his arms and changed the subject. "Didn't Richard call for us a few minutes ago?"

"Mhm, we're expected downstairs- to open presents."

She pushed back from him to look up into his face with furrowed brows. "But how did Richard know you were here?"

"He didn't. I guess he wanted to put up a show for Caroline."

"Oh," Elizabeth uttered and paused. "...and now he knows..."

"Yes," William stated, watching her intently. "Do you mind?"

"I..." she blushed profusely and dropped her gaze. "I'm not sure. I mean- everything happened so fast. Just a week ago I didn't even like you and now..." her voice faded away, her tumultuous thoughts impeding coherent speech.

Since William didn't reply, she looked up again. His eyes were closed, but the hurt was evident on his handsome features. She felt his pain as if it were her own and in that split second realisation hit her like a bolt from the blue- she was in love with him! Just a few minutes ago, she had refused to even think about it, but now there was no way to deny it.

Although it was too soon for her to voice her feelings- they were still little more than strangers- she didn't want him to suffer; she wanted him to be happy, to smile and laugh- and show off his wonderful dimples.

In a gesture of reassurance, she put her hand to his cheek, waiting for him to open his eyes and return her look. When he did, the words began to tumble out of her without deliberation. "William, I do...like you now, very much- really. If I didn't, we wouldn't be here together...you know that, don't you? I want to put the past behind me and make a new start- with you. -And it's fine by me if they all know."

While he listened closely, joy bloomed inside of him and by the time she finished her speech, a bright smile lit up his face. Yet, he had to ask: "Are you sure?"

She nodded self-confidently. "I am- but...promise not to push me, alright? I want to be with you, but I need time to sort out...things. Can you accept that?"

William drew her back into his arms and kissed the top of her head. "I can accept pretty much everything as long as I know that you...like me."

Wrapping her arms and legs around him, she giggled into his chest and pressed herself against him. He groaned aloud and tried to put some distance between them. "Lizzy, please, don't do that to me. -We have to go downstairs, they're waiting for us."

Letting go of him, she heaved a deep-drawn sigh and rolled to her back while he climbed out of bed. Unheeding of his nudity, he stretched out his limbs thoroughly, providing Elizabeth with a very enticing view of his backside that made her mouth water.

Looking at her over his shoulder with raised eyebrows, he asked mischievously: "Like what you see?"

"Very much," she admitted.

He smiled at her while he put on his trousers. "Too bad we have to go, isn't it?" When she reached out for him, he leaned down to kiss her lingeringly. But soon enough he was lying beside her- and from then on everything got slightly out of hand...

~ * ~

When they finally arrived in the dining-room more than half an hour later, they were welcomed by the others in very different ways. Richard winked at William and kissed Elizabeth's cheek tenderly; Georgiana hugged them both with a bright smile on her face; Robert kissed his daughter's forehead and patted William's shoulder and Charles grinned at them broadly. Chris confined himself to wave at them, Caroline ignored them completely and Jane was too busy for a thorough greeting.

As soon as their presence had been adequately acknowledged, she rushed the whole party to the living room where the beautiful Christmas tree was waiting for them. The next hour was spent with exchanging and opening presents, accompanied by joyful exclamations and peals of laughter. In the end they were all sitting on the floor next to the tree surrounded by their gifts and heaps of torn paper.

Except for Caroline, of course, who found it strictly beneath her to join in- what she regarded as- extremely childish behaviour. Moreover, she hadn't been expected at Netherfield, so she'd received only one present from Jane and Charles, and in her eagerness to be at William Darcy's side she hadn't even thought of bringing along anything for them, let alone for anyone else.

But even though she felt slightly out of place, she refused to give up her observation of William and his latest flame. It was completely beyond her how that insolent little upstart had managed to trap a man like him- but then she had done it once before, hadn't she?

Much like William, Thomas Baxter-Harding had been a man of gentility, well bred, intelligent and rich and she had made him fall for her in no time- much to Caroline's vexation, who'd been very interested in him herself. Then Tom had died in a tragic car accident, the strange circumstances of which still remained to be clarified, since Elizabeth had- most conveniently- lost her memory; and he'd left behind a rich young widow. Not that she hadn't been rich before her marriage, her family was rather wealthy, but who would object to having even more money- old money, mind you?

Yet, in Caroline's opinion, it didn't belie the lack of elegance or style clearly visible in that upstart, and she didn't understand at all how any man could be so obviously smitten with her. But maybe her impertinence and forwardness qualified her to be a nice pastime- at least that's all she could hope for in William's case. Otherwise she would have to think of something suitable to deflect his interest efficiently, because she was determined not to let Elizabeth Baxter-Harding snatch away another eligible bachelor.

While she'd contemplated the situation, Caroline's gaze had automatically zoomed in on William. But suddenly she had the strange feeling of being watched herself and turned her head slightly to find Elizabeth staring at her with raised eyebrows, an amused expression on her face. Not one to be intimidated easily, Caroline straightened in her chair and returned the look with all the haughtiness she could muster. Much to her irritation, however, Elizabeth's smile widened and she turned to William and kissed him on the cheek, clearly staking her claim. Caroline huffed indignantly and jumped up from her seat, fiercely struggling to suppress the urge to scratch out that upstart's eyes.

Charles, attuned to his sister's moods through years of practice, looked up in alarm to find her gazing at Elizabeth, her features contorted in rage. He stood up quickly and was by her side in mere seconds in order to prevent the outburst of fury that he knew was sure to come.

"Caroline," he addressed her warningly.

Since she showed no indication of having heard him, he called her again more sharply. This time her head snapped around and she glared at him. "I'm perfectly fine, Charles," she hissed through gritted teeth.

"I don't think so," he answered, his voice level, and took hold of her arm. When she tried to shake him off, he tightened his grip and turned to the others who were watching them with mild interest. "Please excuse us for a moment. My sister and I have to discuss an important family matter."

Jane gave him an encouraging smile to which he nodded slightly before leading a squirming Caroline out of the room.

As soon as they'd disappeared into the hall, Richard asked curiously: "What was that all about?"

"Tiff among siblings, I'd say," Jane answered lightly, attempting to play down the situation. She succeeded bravely in relieving the sudden tension, since they were all were more than willing to preserve peace and quiet rather than have their day ruined by conflict and strife.

But Elizabeth was not yet ready to drop the matter. She leaned over to her sister and whispered: "Do you think he's going to throw her out?"

A radiant smiled crept onto Jane's face and she stated merrily: "Yes!"

Chapter 9 - Part 2

Ignoring her ongoing remonstrations and scolding, Charles led Caroline into his study. He slammed the door shut behind them and flung her into a chair. When she jumped up again, he pointed a finger at her and barked: "Sit!"

Totally taken aback by her brother's fury, she slumped back into the chair. She was not ready to give up, though and wanted to state her opinion, when he snarled at her once again. "And shut up!"

Mouth agape, she stared at Charles with wide eyes, unable to comprehend what was going on. Her docile, little brother, whom she'd always dominated had suddenly turned the tables. Seeing him perched on the edge of his desk, arms crossed over his chest with a dangerous gleam in his eyes, literally scared her. Gone were his boyish charms- she was confronted with a grown man, an angry grown man.

"You are not welcome in my house anymore, Caroline," he said determinedly. Since she still stared at him, strangely fascinated by the fact that even his voice seemed to be different, it took her a few seconds to understand his meaning. When it registered, however, she immediately set about to appease him, figuring that this would be her only option. But he lifted his hand in a warning gesture, not giving her the slightest chance to utter a word.

"No- this time I'll do the talking and you listen- closely, because I'm not going to repeat it. Even though you came here without an invitation- you barged in- I was ready to put you up in this house, since you are my sister. But I will not tolerate your presumptuous, ridiculous behaviour a minute longer- it causes nothing but trouble. I told you more than once to leave William alone- he is not in the least interested in you. Unfortunately though, in this case, he's too much of a gentleman to say it straight to your face, but you can take my word for it. So here's my piece of advice for you, Caroline, leave him alone- stop throwing yourself at him, it's absolutely disgusting. And- you better leave Elizabeth alone too, unless you want to incur my best friend's wrath. -Oh, and as long as he stays here, you won't."

Charles abandoned his place at the desk and walked over to the door, passing by a completely speechless Caroline, who was obviously shocked to the core. His hand already on the handle, he turned back to her once again. "I want you to have your bags packed in half an hour sharp and be out of here. And, please feel free to use the phone and call Louisa and Ethan to announce your arrival." With that he went out of the room and closed the door very slowly, feeling greatly relieved and at peace.

Back in the living room, his old cheerful self restored, he rubbed his hands contently and informed his friends about Caroline's impending departure. "She decided to return to the Hursts since they've made plans to visit Ethan's family and she's already agreed to accompany them. -So, what's next on the plan?" He added, forestalling any discussion about his sister. The hint was gladly taken by the others and the whole commotion was soon forgotten, since Caroline didn't even bother to say her goodbyes, but preferred to take French leave.

~ * ~

The day continued at a leisurely pace, without any hurry or further trouble. There was a basic understanding among the group, allowing them to indulge in amicable chat and lighthearted banter while they went about cleaning up the living room and preparing lunch.

Elizabeth and William couldn't keep their hands off each other, touching and kissing at every opportunity- as if Caroline were still there. Again nobody seemed to care, except for Jane, who was slightly worried about her sister.

Though she'd perceived that there seemed to be a special bond between the two of them, she was at a complete loss as to what might have changed Lizzy's opinion about William so quickly. Two weeks ago she had called him 'proud and conceited' and now she appeared to be seriously involved with him. Such a profound change of mind in so short a time was totally atypical for her rather stubborn sister. True to her character Jane decided to have a private word with Lizzy as soon as possible rather than speculate about her relationship with William.

Later in the afternoon Georgiana and Chris went for a walk and the men enjoyed themselves at a game of billiards while the sisters were alone in the kitchen to finalise the opulent dinner Mrs. Albright had prepared. Jane took advantage of the situation and came to the point immediately. "Lizzy, what is going on between you and William?"

Knowing her sister as she did, Elizabeth was not at all surprised by her directness, but took her time to ponder the question. Searching in vain for the right words to explain a situation she didn't quite understand herself, she finally came up with the only answer she could think of: "I don't know."

Jane looked at her in confusion. "What do you mean, you don't know? Something must have happened- you two are pretty close."

"Well," Elizabeth had the decency to avert her eyes and blush slightly, "yes...we spent the night together."

"You...wow- I'd sure call that something!" Taken aback by Lizzy's revelation, it took Jane a moment to collect her thoughts. "Is it serious?" she asked quietly.

"I think so," Elizabeth admitted shyly, still not looking up.

Jane took her sister's hand and enfolded it between her own.

"Now I'm really worried about you, Lizzy. This imprudence is so unlike you. You've always been so well-considered- and then suddenly you hurl yourself into this affair on the spur of the moment. Just a week ago you gave the impression that you didn't even like the man you're now involved with. What has changed?"

"Oh Janie," Elizabeth sighed in frustration. "Do you really think I didn't rack my brains about that whole...matter?" She freed her hand from her sister's grip and started to pace the kitchen. "But so far I wasn't able to find a plausible explanation as to what has changed. All I can say is that something happened a week ago at the funeral. I suddenly knew that I'd misjudged him badly- that he's totally different from what I thought him to be. I was so attuned to him...I felt so near to him...and then over the past week...I couldn't stop thinking about him."

Elizabeth had gone from agitation to exasperation in the course of her monologue and now that her energy was spent, slumped heavily against the cupboards behind her.

Smiling compassionately, Jane put an arm across her sister's shoulders. "It's alright, Lizzy. If you feel that way- and he feels the same- then there's no need to understand. Just enjoy and be happy- you both deserve it. I was afraid you hadn't given it enough thought, but knowing you, I really should have known better."

Elizabeth hugged her sister tightly. "Thank you, Janie. I'm so very glad to have you." She pulled back and looked at Jane with furrowed brows. "You needn't worry, though- I'm well aware that it's too soon for a serious commitment. It's true that we are very attracted to each other- and we both can't deny that there is something special between us, but so far it's nothing more than an affair, we're still very far away from a relationship. I have to get to know him better- and I have to conclude my past."

"You are determined to go back then?"

"I have to, Janie. I don't feel comfortable with that gap in my memory- it makes me uneasy. I refuse to believe that there's no way for me to find out what has happened-"

Jane drew breath to interrupt her, but Lizzy raised her hand to stop her. "No, Janie, I know your opinion, but believe me, being told is not an option. It's a sad and painful experience, because it's as if you were talking about someone else. I can follow the story and while I realise in my mind that I'm the main character, in my heart it just doesn't feel like me."

"But what will you do? How will you go about it?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "I don't really have a plan- but I decided to start in London right after New Year's Eve. In our apartment. I've avoided it for the last eight months, for reasons I can't decipher."

"You were afraid," Jane remarked casually and turned back to her work. "And you still are."

Nodding slowly, Elizabeth joined her sister. "You're right, I am still afraid of what I'll find. But it's time to face the facts, or else I can't go on with my life."

At that point their conversation was cut off by the return of Georgiana and Chris who came back from their walk half-frozen and in dire need of a steaming cup of tea.

~ * ~

Sometime in the middle of the night William was roused by Elizabeth's desperate sobbing. He was wide awake within seconds and quickly switched on the light on the bedside table. She lay with her back turned to him, her whole body shaking with the potency of her crying fit. Frightened to the core, he leaned towards her and put a hand on her shoulder, softly calling her name.

When she didn't react, he bent down to her face and realised that she was still sleeping-obviously she was having a nightmare. Grabbing her gently, he slowly rolled her over, all the while talking to her in a soothing voice. Gradually the sobs abated and her lids started to flutter. When her gaze focused on him, her eyes widened in shock and she drew in a sharp breath.

"Lizzy," he said quietly, raising his hand to her face. But before he could touch her, she shrank back from him, fear and confusion mingling on her features.

He withdrew his hand and called her name more insistently, trepidation settling in the pit of his stomach. She blinked again, refocused and suddenly threw her arms around him to bury her face in his shoulder, murmuring something he couldn't make out. But it didn't matter anyway- as long as she didn't turn away from him, nothing else mattered. Overcome by a surge of relief, he almost crushed her to him, stroking her hair and whispering words of comfort and reassurance.

Bit by bit she relaxed until she took a deep, shuddering breath and her body finally melted into his. He slackened his hold on her and slowly smoothed a hand from her shoulder blades to her buttocks and back up, repeating the motion over and over again. Eventually she tilted back her head and looked up into his face, her brows furrowed enquiringly.

"You had a nightmare..." he stated rather than asked, though his tone of voice clearly indicated that he was waiting for an explanation.

She nodded and swallowed hard, reluctantly giving in to his silent demand: "I've had them ever since the accident..."

Tenderly he tucked an errand strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm so sorry. I wish I could help... They must be highly disturbing."

She paused noticeably before nodding again, hoping her hesitancy would cause him to drop the subject. But she had yet to learn that obstinacy was one of his more prominent traits. And sure enough the question came. "What are your dreams about?"

Realising that he wasn't ready to relent, she sighed in surrender. "They were always...about the accident- but this time..." she pressed her lips together, refusing to go on.

"Tell me, Lizzy," he insisted.

She felt tears welling up and dropped her gaze to his chest. "I dreamt about you," she confessed in a voice thick with emotions.

A wave of apprehension rushed through his body like a flash flood, turning his insides upside down. Struggling to contain it, he closed his eyes, glad she didn't look at him at that very moment, because he was sure that his expression would have given him away. He knew she waited for his next question, so he pulled himself together as best he could and asked carefully: "And what did I do- in that dream?"

She spoke so quietly that he had to strain his ears to hear her. "You were angry...very angry... you paced back and forth...like a caged tiger...and you shouted at me...and your eyes- they were flashing wit fury...I was so afraid of you..." Finally her voice broke and again she buried her face in his shoulder, crying silently.

With every word she said, his anxiety grew until it encompassed him completely. His worst fear had at last come true- she was obviously beginning to remember. But he knew in his heart that it was too soon- way too soon. The bond between them wasn't nearly strong enough to withstand such a blow. If she found out now, he would lose her- forever. He couldn't allow this to happen- he couldn't let her walk away from him. All he wished for was time, time he could use to show her who he really was, to make her trust him and love him- and then he could tell her. No doubt she wouldn't take it easily, but once she knew him better, she would see that he was neither a liar, nor a cheat- and she would understand the reasons for his secrecy.

Elizabeth cried out in pain and he realised that his arms had closed around her in a tight grip. He instantly relaxed his hold on her and kissed the top of her head repeatedly, murmuring between his caresses: "I'm sorry, love. I'm so sorry."

He hooked a finger under her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Elizabeth, you know that I would never- never do anything to hurt you, don't you?" he asked with desperate urgency.

She returned his gaze, amazed about the insecurity she saw in the depth of his dark eyes. The sudden comprehension that this strong, confident man depended on her reassurance caused joy and happiness to wash over her, making her smile through her tears. She put a hand to his cheek and kissed him softly, whispering against his lips: "I know, William- of course I know."

Unable to resist temptation, he kissed her back, slowly at first, then with increasing fervour. She clung to him, her ardour matching his, needing him as much as he needed her. When she felt him getting hard, pressing inexorably against her mound, her body responded at once, growing soft and pliant, molding itself to his from chest to knee. Groaning in approval, William rolled them over, so she was lying on her back. Immediately her legs opened to him and with a single thrust he sheathed himself in her to the hilt, his mouth swallowing the cry of pure ecstasy that escaped her.

They lay motionless, breaking their kiss to stare into each others' eyes. Finally- his gaze fixed on her- he started to rock his hips slowly. When her lids threatened to droop, his pleading voice caused her to force them up again. "No, Lizzy, look at me- please, look at me." He paused briefly before picking up the pace of his thrusts, gaining force with every impact.

Elizabeth looked back at him, held captive by the emotions that poured down on her through his spellbinding eyes. Her dazed brain realised that he'd opened up to her without restraint, offering himself to her. He was hers for the taking, providing her with the power to elevate their joining to a new level- a higher level- by accepting his offer. And without further consideration she did, overwhelmed by the confidence he placed in her. She looped herself around him, arms and legs enclosing him tightly, and tilted up her pelvis to better meet his forceful strokes.

William watched her closely, registering every emotion that passed over her face, until he finally saw what he had hoped for with all his being. As if a veil had been lifted from her beautiful eyes, they suddenly shone back at him, reflecting all the feelings he knew she had found in his. Not a second later mental awareness was followed by physical reaction, as she pulled him to her, taking him into her even deeper.

The tight knot of desperation and loneliness that had tied up his soul for so long loosened and burst in the space of a heartbeat. Heady sensations swept through him, filling every corner of his inner self, chasing away the hurt and pain from the past. He felt elated, spurred on by the love for the woman that moved with him in such perfect unison.

The sudden urge to finalise their union, to brand her definitely as his, made him pound into her faster and faster with renewed strength. They both breathed heavily with hammering hearts, skin slick with sweat, moaning at the sublime pleasure they experienced. When he felt he could hold back no longer, he called out to her in a strangled voice "Now, Lizzy, now" and immediately her soft, hot sheath clamped down on him while her whole body went rigid. His seed spurted out of him in rhythm with the milking motions of her inner muscles as they reached their peak together, convulsing and shuddering with its force. When the spasms finally subsided they lay exhausted and weak, unable to move or think.

Finally William pushed himself up on his elbows to kiss her sweaty forehead, the tip of her nose, her rosy cheeks and her moist, red lips. He drew back to gaze into her shining eyes, and whispered tenderly. "I love you, Elizabeth."

Then he buried his face in her neck, anxiously awaiting her answer. And when it came, his heart

threatened to burst with happiness. "I love you too, William- very much."

Chapter 10 - Part 1

Elizabeth woke up to tender fingers slowly caressing her breasts. Eyes still closed, her mouth curved into a dreamy smile while she bit down on her lower lip to curb the desire that instantly sprang to life.

"Good morning, my love," William's sleepy voice whispered hoarsely, before he nibbled her soft earlobe.

She trembled and purred in response to his words as well as to his actions, and wriggled her bottom against his prodding morning erection. He eased closer and slipped his hand from her breast down to the nest of tight curls at the top of her sex. His index finger slid between her delicate folds and gently massaged her clitoris. Sighing with pleasure, Elizabeth lifted her thigh over his to give him easier access to her throbbing core. But instead of accepting her invitation, he increased pace and pressure of his ministrations until she writhed uncontrolably.

"William, please...I need you...now..." she choked out desperately.

"Yes, my love, yes...turn to me...I want to see you when I'm inside of you." Looping an arm around her middle, he helped her to roll over. When they lay facing each other, he pulled her leg over his hip up to his waist, opening her for his jutting penis and slowly went into her.

Her eyes hazy with passion, she looked back at him to see an expression of pure bliss settle on his features.

"You're so perfect, my love...so tight..." he murmured as he arched his hips inward to fill her completely.

She whimpered in delight, seeking his mouth for a long, tender kiss. William's right hand came around to close over her breast, kneading gently, circling her extended nipple with his thumb. Totally absorbed in the pleasure they gave and received, they moved without haste, leisurely rocking to completion. When she moaned and tightened rhythmically around him, he thrust once more and pressed deeply into her to find his own release.

They held on to each other while the waves of pleasure sweeping through their bodies gradually subsided to small occasional ripples that made their loines shiver involuntarily. Elizabeth let out a long shuddering sigh.

"Are you alright, love?" William asked, searching her face enquiringly.

His worries were instantly dispelled, however, when she gave him a brilliant smile that made his heart skip a beat.

"I'm perfectly alright, darling. -It just saddens me a bit that this," she leaned in to kiss him lightly on his stubbled chin, "will be over today."

"Oh no, Lizzy, this," he returned her favour by kissing her lips firmly and at the same time jerked his hips forward, making her gasp into his mouth, "will never be over."

She flatened her hands on his chest and pushed back slightly to look into his eyes. "You know what I'm talking about, William. The time we spent here...far away from everyday life. It's like... a soap bubble, prone to burst when it- "

"No, we can make it last...we can work something out..."

Even as he spoke, she began to shake her head impatiently. "We can't- I mean, we can't make it last as it is now. We could work out something, though- eventually..."

"Eventually?" he repeated incredulously. "Lizzy, don't you understand? I love you, I want you by my side- constantly."

Elizabeth felt like being split in two. On the one hand, she was very happy about his admission- every woman in her right mind would jump with joy- yet on the other hand, she felt anger rising inside about his stubbornness. Thus undetermined how to react, she thought it best to remain silent, lest she say something she would regret later on.

William watched her expectantly, waiting for her confirmation that she wanted the same. But the emotions he saw flickering across her face, filled him with dismay. And when she bit down hard on her lower lip, he knew for sure that he wouldn't get the answer he so fervently wished for. Struggling to keep his voice steady, he asked quietly: "What do you want, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth's head snapped up in surprise at his halting tone. How could it be he was so insecure about her feelings for him? She had told him and she had shown him, yet...he seemed to be in permanent need of reassurance.

"William- I love you, I really do. You know that, don't you?" She waited for his nod. "But- this is all happening way too fast. You have to give us some time to get to know each other better, don't you think?" Again she waited for his reaction; this time he dropped his gaze before shrugging reluctantly. Feeling her temper flare dangerously, she closed her eyes for a moment to contain it.

"William, please look at me." When he did, refusal clearly visible in his expression, she stated dryly: "Well, obviously you don't."

Sensing her anger brought on his and with an abrupt movement, he separated their bodies and rolled away from her to sit on the edge of the bed, facing away from her. "I just don't understand you! You say you love me, and yet you don't want to be with me!"

Elizabeth sat up straight, bristling with indignation. "But that's not true! I never said, I didn't want to be with you!" Furiously scrambling off the bed, she grabbed for a blanket to wrap herself up in and walked over to his side. "Will you kindly look at me when you're talking to me!" she rounded upon him, meeting his glare with narrowed eyes.

Just as William was about to retort to her admonition, she suddenly staggered and turned as white as the blanket she was shrouded with. He jumped to his feet, reached out for her and scooped her up into his arms, all in one fast, fluid motion. Fear gripped him as he felt the clamminess of her skin where he touched her and heard her breath coming in short, laboured gasps. Vigorously repressing his ascending panic, he managed to give his voice a gentle tone.

"Elizabeth, can you hear me?"

When he felt her nod slightly against his chest, he almost groaned with relief.

"Are you alright?"

She shook her head no, whereupon his concern returned full force.

"Should I call a doctor?"

"No," she whispered barely audible, "just hold me."

"Forever- if you'll let me..." he whispered back, his stress easing off a little, and pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her hair.

Looking over his shoulder, he gingerly sat down on the bed, all the time holding her firmly to him. He leaned back against the headboard and arranged her carefully on his lap, so she could rest her head on his chest.

Encircling his waist tightly as if holding on for dear life, she inhaled deeply to compose herself, finding comfort in the steady beat of his heart underneath her ear and his stroking hands that brought warmth back to her shocked body. Thankful for his silence, she tried to appease her reeling mind to find out what had just happened.

When she had been standing in front of him, he'd all at once turned into the William Darcy she had seen in her dream, radiating fury and hatred so intense that she had felt like being burned. And her own words had echoed in her head, 'Will you kindly look at me when you're talking to me', duplicating themselves over and over again, growing louder with each repetition, until they'd turned into a cacaphony of undiscernible noises. Then picture and sound had vanished as fast as they had appeared and she'd been left shocked to the core- feeling dizzy and exhausted.

She couldn't figure out where that horrible impression of William had come from. Sure enough, he had resembled the man she had thought him to be in the past- but this reserved man would never have allowed his temper to get the better of him, would he? The only time she'd seen him like this had been in her dream. A deja vu from a dream? How weird can you get?

Heaving a sigh she turned her face into William's chest to draw his slightly musky scent deeply into her lungs. This was the man she loved- the real man. That demoniac stranger made up by her fancifulness for reasons that completely escaped her had nothing in common with him.

A certainty that soothed her immeasurably, allowing her to immerse herself in the safeness and security William's embrace provided her with. The last remnants of tension left her body and the disturbing figment faded away into nothingness.

William's hands halted their motions and settled at her waist while he planted another kiss on top of her head. He cleared his throat before asking softly: "Feel better?"

She turned her face up to him to give him a reassuring smile. "Yes, very much."

"Good," bending his head, he pulled her up higher for a firm kiss. "I thought you were going to faint right away. It scared the hell out of me. -What was wrong with you?"

His eyes were so full of concern that she immediately decided not to trouble him any further by telling him of her eerie experience. There was nothing he could do about it, anyway. Though she felt a pang of guilt at the thought of lying to him, she quickly shrugged it off by telling herself that it was just a minor deception in order to preserve his peace of mind. Yet, she couldn't face him when she answered his question. "I suppose my blood pressure has suddenly dropped- it made me feel sick and dizzy." Then as an afterthought she quickly added, "I've always had trouble with low blood pressure," glad to be able to look back at him, because this- as least- was the truth. William smoothed her dishevelled tresses away from her face, then framed it with his hands while his gaze slowly wandered over her features. "Thank God, t'was nothing worse...I don't know what I would do if anything ever happened to you..."

Deeply touched by his admission, Elizabeth leaned closer towards him to grace his lips with a lingering kiss. When they parted, she caressed his cheek with tender fingers, once again striving to reassure him. "You don't have to worry about me, William. I'm in the best of health- and I promise to take good care of myself."

Finally he smiled, drawing her even closer to him and rolling them over, so he was lying on top of her, rendering her immobile with his strong body. "Accepted! And don't you dare break it."

"I won't," she whispered breathlessly before his mouth came down on hers for a searing kiss.

~ * ~

Richard entered the dining room to find his friends- except for Elizabeth and William- enjoying their breakfast. After bidding everyone a good morning, he went over to the sideboard to help himself to a cup of coffee. Sipping the hot beverage slowly, he strode to the table and dropped into a chair next to Georgiana.

When she flashed him a bright smile, he gave her a wink and leaned closer to whisper into her ear: "Seems your dear brother is even too busy for breakfast these days."

Shaking her head in annoyance, she pushed him slightly away from her. "Oh Rick, stop it! This is too serious to make fun of. I don't know anyone who's in more need for some happiness. He so deserves it!"

"Aw, it's alright, Georgie girl- calm down. You know I meant no harm," he replied soothingly, raising his hands in defeat.

Obviously warming up to the subject, Georgiana was not to be appeased so easily. "Even so! You know how depressed he was after what he'd been put through these past years. Do you even remember when you've last seen him in such a good mood? Well, I don't! I'm just glad to see him smiling and laughing again, no matter how it came about," she stopped to inhale deeply, then added quickly, "And I'm glad he's gotten rid of Patricia," blushing slightly at her boldfaced avowal.

Richard stared at her in astonishment, muttering under his breath: "Well, I'll be damned!"

Suddenly they both became aware that the room was very quiet. Looking around, they realised that the others were watching them with barely concealed curiosity.

Under such close scrutiny, Georgiana felt impelled to defend herself and spoke up in a strained voice, her gaze fixed on the table. "I mean- I accepted her for my brother's sake- though in truth I didn't like her. I really can't explain why...I've always had the feeling that she was insincere- phoney; anyway, on the whole she made me feel uneasy. Whatever it was William saw in her, I failed to see it- for me they were a really bad match."

During his cousin's confession Richard's eyes roamed over the faces of their companions one by one, searching for a sign of disaproval; but all he found was compassion and sympathy. A short pause ensued after Georgiana had finished her speech, until Jane reached out to pat the younger woman's hand reassuringly. "You are definitely not alone with your opinion, Georgie. I'm totally with you."

"Well, who's not?" Charles interjected keenly, then continued rather pensively: "Though I still don't know how their separation came about. I can only guess that it was rather...distressing, given William's state of mind afterward."

Greatful that she wasn't standing all alone, Georgiana had by then regained her liveliness and immediately jumped at his statement. "He didn't talk to you about it?" Charles shook his head in silence. "And he didn't talk to Daddy or Rick either. -Does anybody know what has happened?" she asked and looked around only to be confronted with helpless expressions. At last her eyes came to rest on Richard. He shrugged at the question he saw in her face. "Of course I asked him- several times, in fact. But all he said was they'd found out that their different views of life wouldn't bode well for a marriage- at least not for one to last forever."

Again they lapsed into silence as they contemplated Richard's account. Finally Robert cleared his throat and spoke up. "Well, I have to say it's rather admirable for such young people to make so tough a choice. If I'd been that reasonable at their age, it would have saved me a lot of trouble..."

Jane squirmed restlessly in her chair while she listened to her father. As soon as he paused to draw a breath, she started talking. "That may well be, Papa. But isn't it rather unusual that it took them more than two years to find out that they didn't get along with each other? And then to split up only a month before the wedding. -I've always had the feeling that there was more to it than William would tell."

Robert chuckled, "Better late then never, don't you think, Janie?" He sobered as he continued: "They must have had good reasons for what they did- private reasons. I don't know William very well, but from what I've seen so far, I'd say he's a considerate man- definitely not one to make a rash decision."

A choked "Ha" came from Richard's direction, immediately drawing everyone's attention. Robert raised his eyebrows in question. "You obviously don't think so, Rick!"

Unaware that he'd spoken out loud, Richard was a bit flustered for having been caught. Yet, he didn't hesitate to make his opinion known. "No, no- you are quite right, Bob. I was just thinking about Lizzy. It seems that my cousin's rationality is in utmost danger where she is concerned."

His comment earned him smiles and nods and even a sigh from Georgiana. "Oh yes, I guess that's pretty evident. Will is totally enraptured, isn't he? I really hope it isn't just a fling."

Richard was astonished that nobody had any misgivings about the strange situation. What had started out as an act, a farce to dupe Caroline, had developed a life of it's own- with Elizabeth and William's ample support, of course. Nonetheless, he would have expected some protest, at least from Robert or Jane. But they both appeared to agree wholeheartedly with the course of events, if their happy smiles were any indication for their affections.

Once again Richard let his gaze wander from face to face until he caught the host's eye. Charles smile faded at the sight of his friend's stern expression. "Do you have any objections, Rick?"

"Oh no, by no means. I wish them all the happiness in the world, really I do. I just hope that they can overcome any obstacles that might be thrown in their path, is all. -Now," he added, standing up, "I think I'm going to take advantage of the beautiful weather and stroll around the grounds for a while. Anybody care to join me?"

Nobody volunteered, for which he was thankful; his question had been nothing but an act of pure courtesy. Actually, he wanted to be alone to contemplate his cousin's precarious situation. This discussion had confirmed his assumption that he was the only one who knew about it, anyway.

Even if he'd wanted to, there was no way he could confide in anyone without betraying William's confidence- a possibility he would never allow himself to take into consideration.

Having taken his leave appropriately, he went upstairs to his room to get ready for his excursion.

Chapter 10 - Part 2

Wrapped up in a blanket, Elizabeth sat on the window sill in her room at Longbourn and stared out into the cloudless, midnight sky with dreamy eyes. An occasional, content sigh escaped her smiling lips while she recalled those past days and nights she had spent with William.

Lying in his arms had caused an overwhelming sense of rightness and belonging to settle in her heart, telling her beyond a doubt that he was the key to her happiness; he was her future, the one she wanted to share the rest of her life with. It didn't matter anymore where those feelings had come from, or what had initially induced them- they were there and she'd learned to accept them. And she was resolved to act upon them.

But before she could do so there was one thing left to be done: bringing forward the events of her lost year. She didn't expect it to be easy, but rather painful and disturbing. Nevertheless, she needed to know, needed to reveal this part of her past to feel complete again, or else she would never be able to fully restore her peace of mind. There was no guarantee at all for her success, in fact, the odds were highly against her, but at least she had to try.

She'd been very surprised about how violently William had disliked her intention. He'd insisted quite vehemently on the fact that for him her past didn't count a bit, that all he wanted was a future with her, regardless of bygone events. No doubt she understood his point of view, since- in essentials- it hardly differed from hers; and under different circumstances she would have agreed with him well and truly. Yet, given her present situation, ignoring the past was not an option.

They'd had a lengthy discussion in the course of which she'd endeavoured to explain what it meant for her to miss a part of her life and how she felt about it. Although he'd listened closely, she'd had the impression that deep within he'd refused to acknowledge her arguments. And she'd been right- because no matter what she'd said he'd stubbornly persisted in his viewpoint. He'd even tried to dissuade her from putting her plans into action with something akin to fear in his almost desperate efforts to change her mind. Smiling inwardly she'd ascribed it to his obviously pathological insecurity where her feelings for him were concerned, and once again- and surely not for the last time- she'd hurried to reassure him.

An hour later they'd finally reached a fragile truce. Not wanting to jeopardise their relationship at such an early stage, they'd both given in as much as their different opinions would allow. William had promised, albeit grudgingly, to try his best not to disapprove so strongly of her urge to know more about her lost year and maybe even support her in her foray into the past. Whereas she'd had to promise solemnly that, no matter what she might find out, she'd always stand by him, love and trust him. Though she'd found that to be a rather strange request, she'd satisfied his wish without scrutinising it.

Another problem they'd had not yet solved had been the question of time- time she thought they needed and he thought they did not. To her pleasant surprise it had been fairly easy to settle-despite his outburst of fury earlier that day. Without opposition, he'd agreed not to rush her into living with him, and she'd agreed not to take up too much time to get used to the notion. Now that she reconsidered their discussion unhurriedly, she couldn't suppress a sly smile. Truth be told, she'd gotten her way in both issues, and poor William had been the one to compromise. And she knew for sure that he was as aware of that fact as she was- alas, there'd been nothing he could have done about it.

Her smile faded, however, when she thought about the reason that forced her to play out; if not for that damn gap in her memory, she would have packed her bags with the speed of lightning and followed William to the end of the world, should he have asked her to do so. Her decision for a life with him stood firm, but she knew her planned investigations would require time.

A single tear rolled down her cheek as she remembered their parting just a few hours ago. It had been so hard to let go. They'd held on tightly to each other for what had seemed like an eternity, yet it hadn't been long enough. The second he'd released her, she'd felt utterly bereft of the warmth and nearness she'd come to cherish so much. She'd had to struggle hard not to throw her arms around him again and beg of him not to leave her alone.

The only thing that had kept her from giving in to her urge had been the thought that he wouldn't go any farther then London, a mere stone's throw away. Furthermore, they'd already exchanged phone numbers and arranged to meet for lunch on the 29th.

So she'd managed a wobbly smile and looked deeply into his eyes. Obviously he didn't fare any better because his had been strangely shiny, too. He'd stared at her intently, his gaze moving slowly over her face, as if commiting every detail to memory. She'd wanted to say something to console him- console them both- but she couldn't get a word past that huge lump in her throat. William had been the first to break the silence, his voice slightly unsteady. "Don't ever forget that I love you...with all my heart..." And with one last, tender kiss he'd been gone.

As she sat there in the darkness of her room, still wondering about how pathetic their parting had been, it occurred to her that in truth they hadn't said good-bye to each another, but to those wonderful days they'd spent together at Netherfield. It seemed that William had finally realised what she had already known for quite a while- from now on everything would be different. Heaving a deep-drawn sigh, she stood up and crossed her room to her empty bed. While she crowled under the covers, she shivered from the chilliness and wished fervently William would be there to warm her. After wriggling and rolling to and fro for quite a while, she'd at last settled in as comfortably as possible without his body to snuggle up against.

One last thought crossed her mind before she drifted off to sleep: tomorrow would be the first day of her venture into the past.

~ * ~

Patricia McKinley stood at the window of her London hotel room, mobile phone pressed to her ear, and listened closely to the voice on the other end of the line. When the caller had finished his narrative, she repeated pensively: "Netherfield...the Bingleys...and Caroline...I remember. Who else?"

Again she listened, brow furrowed in concentration.

After a while, her eyebrows went up high in surprise. "Jane Bingley's sister?...Are you sure?... No, no, of course...I know you are...I just- that's very unexpected, is all."

The caller placed a question, to which she shook her head.

"No, I'll take care of that. I know her very well. You stick to him...Good...I'll hear from you then? Alright...Bye."

She made a grimace at the phone as she pushed the disconnect button. She hated that sleezy toad Bill Collins, but- much to her amazement- he was a fantastic detective and that was all that counted for her. Knocking the phone lightly against her front teeth, she shook off thoughts about him and turned her mind to more important matters.

This latest piece of information was almost unbelievable. Could it really be true- Elizabeth and William a couple? Those two, of all people? How could this have come about? Could this be the chance she'd been waiting for all these past months?

After rubbing her suddenly sweaty palms against her skirt, she inhaled deeply to calm down her pounding heart, and squared her shoulders. First and foremost, she had to keep a level head; it would not do to let her nerves get the better of her now that her target seemed to be so near at hand.

Walking over to the lounge, she sat down on the couch to ponder the possibities this strange twist would surely offer. Not that she intended to hurt Elizabeth- the poor girl was the least guilty person in this sad affair. William was the one all her efforts were centred on, he was the one she wanted to suffer as much as she'd suffered, and still did. If not for him, this horrible car accident would never have happened.

Triggered off by his damned veraciousness, he'd set into motion a sequence of events that had eventually ended in Tom's death. She would never forget that cursed afternoon when he'd come home unexpectedly to find them in bed together. The ensuing scene had been quite unpleasant to be sure, and of course he'd broken their engagement and thrown her out. She'd borne those consequences rather easily, though, given that she'd already grown more than tired of him. The only thing that had greatly upset her was that their convenient arrangement had come to an end. Since she'd never been into working regularly- a fundraising campaign every now and then was enough of an occupation for her- it had been quite comfortable to live at William's expenses. Cut off of this resource, she'd had to find someone else to support her adequately. Tom hadn't been an option in this case, so as not to raise any suspicions in Elizabeth. For a short time, however, she'd found shelter in their apartment.

Knowing him as the epitome of morality that he was, William's next step hadn't really surprised her, if anything, it had irritated her- he'd gone to Elizabeth to inform her about her husband's infidelity. But of course Tom and she had beaten him to it and woven a very nice tale, turning everything around and making him the culprit. Hence Elizabeth hadn't believed a word of what he'd said, her dislike of him assisting greatly in the matter. Nevertheless William had somehow managed to plant the seed of doubt into her mind. It hadn't shown its presence directly though, but in time it had grown to be a serious threat for their little secret, until in the end it had been the means of their discovery.

Taking into consideration everything that had occurred, she was extremely puzzled as to how a relationship between these two could have come about. Since she'd- as a precaution- left town right after the accident, she'd only recently learned that Elizabeth had lost all memories of the year preceding Tom's death. That explained why she didn't hate William anymore, but the fact remained that even before the accident she hadn't liked him. So what had changed?

Maybe Collins had misjudged the situation. Highly unlikely, though- so far his reports had always been very accurate. Yet, he could have been mistaken for once. No, she needed another source of information- she needed to know for sure before planning any further.

She grabbed her mobile and, after meditating a few seconds, punched in a number, impatiently listening to the dial-tone. At last a relieved smile graced her lips as the receiver was picked up on the other end. "Hello Caroline, Patricia speaking..." she greeted with fake enthusiasm.

Half an hour later she had more information than she'd bargained for. Yet, enduring Caroline's rant about literally everything that had happened at Netherfield had surely paid off. While she'd still been listening- or rather pretended to- Miss Bingley's lamentations, a plan had already been forming in her head.

She knew now beyond a doubt that William was head over heels in love with Elizabeth and vice versa, and for a split second she felt sorry for her former friend. But given the current situation, it couldn't be helped- she couldn't forego such a unique opportunity. She'd make her hate him again- snatch her away from his side in no time, just to show him what it meant to lose someone he really loved. She wanted him to feel the loss of a beloved one- to suffer- to be in agony like she'd been after Tom's death.

Though she'd been informed by Collins that Elizabeth lived at Longbourn, she decided to call her London apartment, trusting her luck that she would eventually reach her there. After dialing she waited until the answering machine had taken over and left a nice little message, leaving her number and asking to be called back.

She put down the mobile and leaned back, relaxing for the first time in almost a year. Revenge was indeed sweet, she thought, smiling contently.

~ * ~

Right after work, Elizabeth drove to London. Not that she wasn't familiar with the roads, but knowing were they would lead her to, made her stomach lurch. Keeping the wheel steady was an onerous task, since her thoughts would always stray to what lay ahead of her. More than once she had to take a deep breath to contain her agitation and exhort herself to concentrate on driving.

Finally she reached her destination and found a parking place right in front of her apartment house. Staring at the building in awe, she felt her determination melt away. The thought of what she might find up there, made her shudder involuntarily.

Suddenly the urge to pull off again and drive back to Longbourn was almost too strong to resist. Her hand was already on the ignition key, when a picture of William appeared before her mind's eye. And that was all she required to set herself into motion.

She alighted quickly and ran up the path to the entrance, while rummaging in her handbag for her keys. Having found them, she pushed open the door and, ignoring the elevator, made her way to the stairs.

On the third floor, she whirled to the left and stopped in front of apartment 302. Short of breath, chest heaving, she stood rooted to the spot and gazed at the symbol of her past- a name plate printed in neat, black letters: Baxter-Harding.

Tears clouded her eyes, making her blink rapidly to keep them from falling. Her constricted throat hardly allowed her to swallow, but after a few tries she finally managed, feeling slightly better. Though her instincts told her to turn around and run, the thought of William helped her to maintain her courage.

Inhaling deeply and holding her breath she unlocked the door and stepped over the threshold. She stopped again, her eyes roaming around in anticipation, and finally exhaled on a long sigh. Nothing unsettling so far. Gently closing the entrance door behind her, she ventured further into her former home.

Half an hour later, she slumped into an armchair in the living room, relief and disappointment washing through her in equal shares. All the commotion had been for naught. Whatever she'd expected to find, it wasn't there. She'd found- nothing. Every room had been carefully cleared of all personal items- even the pictures had been taken from the walls. In its almost clinical tidiness, her once rather comfortable apartment reminded her very much of an empty hotel room, waiting for the next guests to arrive.

While her belongings had been transported to Longbourn, she had no idea where Tom's were. It occurred to her that his family must have initiated the removal of his possessions as well as the cleaning of the apartment. Though they'd both never been close to Tom's parents, she briefly considered calling them. And then what? She hadn't seen them for almost a year, and she didn't want her husband's things back, anyway. So why bother them?

Standing up, she glanced around one last time and decided never to come back again. When her gaze wandered over to the telephone, however, her brow furrowed in confusion. Slowly she stepped closer, thinking her eyes had betrayed her- but they hadn't. The small red light of the answering machine was blinking. Full of curiosity, she pushed the rewind button and hit play. To her utter surprise a familiar voice she hadn't heard in a long time filled the room- Patricia. She replayed the message and grabbed the phone to punch in the number Tom's cousin had left. Settling back down in the armchair she'd vacated, she waited for Patricia to pick up the receiver on the other end of the line.

The Lost Year

Chapter 11 - Part 1

Although it wasn't even dawn yet, William already sat behind his desk in his office, head leaned against the back of his huge leather chair, weary eyes closed.

It was two nights and one day since he'd last seen Elizabeth and the time without her had turned out even worse than he'd anticipated. With her reassuring presence gone- talking to her on the phone hadn't really helped matters- he'd been unable to rein in his fear and insecurity. Mingled with the oppressing sense of guilt for having deceived her, they'd augmented to almost unbearable heights, reaching their absolute peak the previous night.

After hours of tossing and turning restlessly in his too large and empty bed, his mind in an awful mess, he'd finally given up on sleep. Retreating to his habit of staring out the window, he'd tried to calm down and contemplate his situation, but soon found out that the intimate surroundings were too much of a destraction. In the end he'd fled from his apartment to take refuge in his office, hoping that the less personal atmosphere would help him rearrange his tangled thoughts. Fortunately it worked, and shortly after arriving there, he'd regained enough of his equilibrium to ponder his options more rationally.

Through his own fault, he found himself in a very precarious position- actually, he was exactly where he'd never wanted to be. But the deed was done, and there was no way to go back and change it. All he could do now was to find a remedy and right the wrong he'd done.

He thought back to how his resolution not to take advantage of Elizabeth had been smashed to pieces the moment he'd had her in his arms. Their first time together had been like a dream come true and he'd forgotten everything but the incredible bliss they'd shared. And after the second time, when he'd discovered that he loved her, this newly found feeling had brought on fear, too- fear of losing her, if she should ever learn the truth.

But despite his misgivings, he should have told about her the past right then. Instead he'd acted completely out of character, had betrayed his own principles of veracity and honesty, and taken the coward's way out by deliberately concealing the truth. He despised falsehood and deception with all his heart- yet, he'd fallen back on them. And no matter how often he told himself that he hadn't had another choice, his self-respect had suffered considerably from his abominable behaviour. Sooner or later his guilty conscience would force him to be honest with her.

Given the events that had followed his discovery, he knew that in all likelihood, it would be rather sooner than later. Heaving a deep-drawn sigh, he thought back to those events that still worried him most- her nightmare and her fit of dizziness. They were the very source of his deepest fear, namely that when she'd remember, he wouldn't be there to explain everything, before she could draw the wrong conclusions.

Unlike her, he'd at once recognised these incidents for what they were- snippets of her lost year. But then, he had the knowledge that she lacked. He had been furious, he had shouted at her- and that was what her nightmare had been about, that much she'd admitted.

She'd lied to him about the reason for her fit of dizziness, though, of that he was sure. But he knew all the same what had triggered it off. An icy chill ran down his spine- just as it had at Netherfield- as he thought of her words: 'Will you kindly look at me when you're talking to me.' He'd been stunned to hear them again; she'd used exactly the same formulation during their argument 18 months ago, when he'd told her about her husband's infidelity. And just a split second after she'd uttered them- again- there'd been a look of sheer terror in her eyes and then she'd collapsed.

It still puzzled him somehow that she'd offered such a shallow explanation afterwards, seemingly logical, granted, but shallow nonetheless. Moreover, her gaze had broken away from his, telling him beyond words she wasn't being honest. Could it be that she suspected something she didn't want to share with him? No. He abandonded this theory immediately. If she had the least inkling that her memories had begun to resurface, she would have reacted completely different. It was more probable that she'd done it so as not to worry him. A slow smile lit up his expression at the idea of Elizabeth attempting to spare his feelings- this was so much like her.

The sudden awareness of how intimately he'd come to know her in the course of just three days and two nights, touched him to his very core. During the day he'd learned about her heart and mind, while at night he'd learned about her body and soul, and he'd eagerly absorbed her every word and gesture to commit it to memory. She was indeed his other half.

Just the thought of living without her, made his fear return with invigorated strength. He couldn't- didn't want to- imagine being thrown back into the darkness she'd saved him from, because he knew for sure that his innermost self wouldn't survive such a blow.

For a few moments his breath caught in his lungs, as he all at once saw clearly the magnitude of his dependency on Elizabeth. He realised that his self-reliance was gone- for good, and his fear turned to anguish; he was completely at her mercy. Of course he'd counted on that, but never to such a degree. With just a few words, she could either make him the happiest of men- or the most desperate...

Uneasiness gripped him, forcing him to leave his chair and pace the room, nervously twisting the signet ring on his left little finger. If only he could be sure that she'd believe him, that her feelings for him were strong enough to trust in him. While he didn't doubt at all that she loved him- she'd shown it and she'd said it- he could just guess the strength of her attachment to him.

Suddenly he stopped short as if he'd hit an invisible wall. What if she'd just felt forced to answer in kind to his own confession? What if it had just been sex for her instead of making love? Not a second later, though, he snorted angrily and shook his head, mentally kicking himself for allowing such thoughts to even enter his mind. He definitely refused to believe that she was capable of deceiving him in such a manner- not his Elizabeth.

But was she really his? He almost choked on his insecurity. An emotion still so unfamiliar for him that he hardly knew how to handle it without her constant reassurance. He'd never been hesitant or undecided, he'd always known what he wanted and had pursued it with grim determination; and now, for the very first time in his adult life, he was faltering, afraid and unsure of himself. Suddenly feeling worn out and tired again, he slowly walked back to his chair, and slumped into it heavily.

He'd never felt like this before, and he didn't like it at all. But he had to blame solely himself and he knew that there was only one remedy to relieve this agonising uneasiness: he had to tell her- as soon as possible. He could see no use in putting off the inevitable, anyway, for the longer he waited, the harder it would get. If he had to rely on Elizabeth's judgement, her knowledge of human nature, then so be it. Having finally reached a decision, he immediately felt part of his usual determination return. The sword of Damocles was still dangling periliously low above his head, but he chose to ignore it as best he could and go about making plans how to put his resolve into action.

But first of all, he was in desperate need to hear her lovely voice. A glance at his wristwatch told him that she would be up already and he immediately grabbed for the phone to dial her number. To his utter disappointment, the line was busy. His lips formed a pout as he put the receiver back down. He'd have to try later.

Dripping wet, Elizabeth dashed from the bathroom to reach the ringing phone in time. Her heart thudded at the thought that it might be William, as she grabbed for the receiver and almost cast it to the floor in her eagerness. But finally she managed to press it to her ear.

"Hello?" she asked breathlessly.

"Lizzy?" came Jane's cheerful voice through the phone. "What are you doing? You sound as if you'd been running."

"Hi, Janie. I actually was- you caught me in the shower," she answered, struggling not to sound too let down.

"Sorry, dear, but I got your message. We were out yesterday, and came back rather late. I didn't want to disturb you then...So, what's news?"

Completely forgetting her disappointment, Elizabeth told her sister everything that had occurred the previous evening. When she was finished, there was a considerable pause at the other end of the line.

"Janie? -Are you still there?"

"What? Yes...yes, of course...I was just wondering about Patricia...What could she want from you?"

For a few seconds Elizabeth was at a loss how to answer to Jane's obvious wariness. She knew the two women had never gotten along with each other very well, despite the Bingleys' close friendship with William. Yet, up to now she'd never recognised the depth of her sister's aversion. She felt compelled to defend her friend.

"What do you mean, Janie? What could she want other than just see me again and have a nice time? And maybe exchange pleasant memories. We used to be rather close. I know you never liked her, but she's my late husband's cousin, after all."

Elizabeth's voice had increased in volume during her speech and when she stopped, slightly out of breath again, she waited for Jane's contradictions. But her sister was in no mind to rise to the challenge. Instead she softly placed a rather unexpected question: "Did you talk to William about it?"

As was Jane's knack, she'd hit the sore spot unerringly and again silenced Elizabeth. Of course she'd thought about it- in a fact, she'd thought about it all the time since she'd spoken to Patricia, but she hadn't come to a decision, yet. Ignorant of the details of their breakup she didn't have the slightest idea how William would react to her news. As she quickly reconsidered the matter, she suddenly knew her answer. "No, Janie, I didn't- and I don't plan to, either."

There was determination in her sister's voice, but her reply had been too long in coming for Jane to give in so easily. "Don't you think he has a right to know, Lizzy?" she asked carefully.

"No, frankly, I don't think so," Elizabeth snapped, exasperated. She closed her eyes for a second and inhaled deeply to compose herself, then strove for an explanation in a much calmer tone.

"We both have a past, Janie, but it's over, done with. So whatever happened between them has nothing to do with the present- with us. And regardless of their past, Patricia's my friend."

This time it was Jane's turn to keep silent, but Elizabeth heard her heave a sigh and immediately knew that there was more to come. "What?" she asked, braced for the worst.

"Well...given her behaviour after the accident, I never would have considered her your friend. If I remember rightly, she couldn't get away from you fast enough. That's hardly the behaviour of a friend."

"But she had to go to her family- they needed her! They're very close."

"Are they now?" the irony in Jane's voice was not to be overheard. "So when had she last gone to see them? I mean, before her rather hasty departure from London- not a minute after you'd opened your eyes for the first time after the accident. Not once- and please correct me if I'm wrong- during her whole relationship with William had she visited her family. Is that what you'd call being close?"

Slightly desperate by now, Elizabeth enquired: "I don't understand, Jane! What do you want to tell me? Just say it directly!"

"I wish I could, Lizzy," came Jane's irritated answer. She made a noise that was neither a sigh, nor a groan, but something in-between, and then launched forward: "There's something about her that troubles me...I wish I could put my finger on it, but I can't! -She's like a puzzle with too many pieces that won't fit. For whatever reason- I don't trust her, I never have, for that matter. And you shouldn't, either. I know I can't keep you from meeting her, but promise me you'll be cautious around her, please, Lizzy. -She just makes me so uneasy!"

Despite her sister's genuine worries, Elizabeth couldn't hold back her laughter. "Oh, come on, Janie, don't you think you're exaggerating just a tad? I know she's not to everybody's liking, but she's not that bad, really. And she's never given me cause to distrust her."

"Well, alright, but nevertheless-"

"I'll be on my guard, Janie, I promise...And tomorrow I'll tell you everything about it." While talking, Elizabeth looked at her wrist, just to realise that she'd left her watch in the bathroom.

"What time is it, Jane?"

"7:30."

"Damn- already! I've got a meeting in an hour, and there're some papers I've to prepare. -Bye, Janie. I'll call you!"

"Bye, Liz! Take care!"

Several times throughout the day, whenever his busy schedule would allow it, William tried to call Elizabeth. Her mobile was turned off, however, and he only reached her voice mail. Though he always left a message, she never called back. Slightly irritated, he finally dialled the number of her office and was not a little astouned, when a young woman answered, introducing herself as 'Miss Bennet's sectretary'. For a few moments he was at a loss for an approriate reply and it suddenly occurred to him that he'd never asked Elizabeth for details about her job in her father's company. After recovering from his initial surprise, he left the request to be called back as soon as possible.

By the time she finally returned his call- it was already far into the afternoon- William was seething. But the second he heard her voice, he forgot his pent-up annoyance and instantly felt relieved and at peace. His happiness was of short duration, however, when he learned that she was on her way to yet another appointment, 'with an old friend'. As she was evidently in a hurry, he assured her that he didn't want to hold her up, and after confirming their lunch-date for the next day, they ended the call.

After hanging up, William sat back in his chair, furiously slamming his fist into the soft leather of the armrest. Hell, he'd wanted to hold her up- he'd wanted to ask her about her old friend, and he already regretted that he hadn't.

Just as he was on the verge of fully immersing himself into his jealousy, Richard stormed into his office, followed by a visibly annoyed Emily. Even as she drew breath to reprimand the intrusive visitor, she caught William's eye- he gave her the look. At that she clamped her mouth shut and- without a word- turned on her heels and left the room, carefully closing the door behind her. Richard slumped into the chair opposite to his cousin and glared at him.

"You didn't tell her yet, did you?" he asked in a low voice.

Loath to vindicate himself, William briefly pondered to feign ignorance, but eventually decided against it. However, he was not in the mood to listen to Richard's rebukes, so he opted for a gentle, yet unmistakeable warning, his tone matching his cousin's. "Leave it be, Rick. It's none of your business."

"I beg to differ," Richard replied, completely unperturbed by William's threat. "As I see it, you made it my business, when you confided in me at Pemberley- you remember our little chat, don't you?" he asked, while a sly smile curved the corners of this mouth.

"Well, part of it, anyway," William admitted quietly and blushed as he recalled his embarrassing behaviour. "I told you what happened between Elizabeth and me- right?"

"Right," Richard nodded. "But that's not all. You've told me much more- if not explicitly." When he saw distress settling on his cousin's face, he raised his hand in a comforting gesture. "Don't worry, Will, you neither said, nor did anything offensive. Let's just say, you...insinuated that you were head over heels in love with her."

"I still am, more than ever, in fact..." William confessed.

Richard sat up straight, pointing a finger at his cousin. "See, that's exactly what I thought, while I watched your act at Netherfield- I knew all along it was for real, at least on your part. I couldn't tell for sure about Elizabeth's feelings, though. Not until I found you in her bed, that is. And that was when I finally hit on it."

William raised his eyebrows in question, eliciting a snort from Richard.

"Now come on, Will, we both know that you wouldn't have been there if you'd told her!"

Unable to sit still any longer, William rose from his chair and walked over to the window, turning his back to his cousin. He didn't need a reminder of what he'd done; he'd accepted his failure and was determined to make amends. Yet, somehow he knew that there was no way to escape this unpleasant discussion.

As he watched him walk away from the desk and strike his typical pose of defence, Richard found his assumption confirmed- William was indeed in serious trouble, and unwilling to talk about it. And even though he was convinced that his cousin had already reproached himself more than enough, he was not ready to relent. It was time to coax him out of his shell- he needed to trust in his family and friends again.

"Why did you conceal it from her, Will?" he asked as carefully as he could.

At first, William just took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, making no reply. But after a few seconds had elapsed in silence, he exhaled and his body relaxed visibly. He turned around slowly to face Richard, but didn't meet his eye. "I just...couldn't. She wouldn't have given us the slightest chance...and I couldn't take the risk...I acted like a coward..." his voice trailed off.

"Look, Will, I'm not here to berate you. Knowing you as I do, I have no doubt that you will correct your mistake as soon as possible. You got yourself into this, you'll get yourself out...I'm here because I'm worried about you, but your relationship with Elizabeth was just the trigger, not the cause."

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, William leaned back against the window frame and crossed his legs leisurely, feeling relieved that the most sensitive issue was obviously abandoned. But he had no idea where his cousin was going now. "What are you talking about?"

Richard sensed that William had let down his guard, totally unsuspecting what he was aiming at. "I know that you're a very private person, Will- always were, but you never were quite as reticent as you are ever since your breakup with Patricia."

His cousin went rigid, straightened and blinked several times, leaving Richard with no doubt that he'd hit the mark. "So?" William asked, suddenly on the alert.

"I want to know what happened..."

Pullings his hands out of his pockets, William started to fumble with his signet ring, giving away his agitation. He cleared his throat. "That's in the past, Rick. No use to rehash it."

Richard shook his head. "I've to disagree with you again, Will, because it's still afflicting you." As he'd done before, he pointed his finger at his cousin. "And don't even try to deny it."

When he took in Richard's resolute expression, William understood that any attempt to evade the impending conversation, would be futile. Deciding that he might as well meet his fate head-on, he walked back to his chair and sat down again to face his cousin openly. To his surprise, he felt a sense of relief settle upon him, even before he started to speak. "Patricia had an affair."

Except for a slight narrowing of his eyes, Richard showed no reaction. William continued: "I caught them," looking pointedly back at his cousin.

This time Richard's eyes widened and he gave a low whistle, as he mentally pulled together what he'd learned so far. "Am I right in my assumption that her lover was Elizabeth's husband?" William just nodded.

Chapter 11 - Part 2

Elizabeth and Patricia, both on time for their appointment, met in front of the coffee bar. For a moment, they stood there staring at each other in embarrassed silence. Then Elizabeth broke out in a grin, extending her hands to her friend, and the awkwardness faded away.

Patricia pulled her into a hug and kissed her cheeks. "It's so good to see you, Lizzy," she piped, slightly surprised that she really meant what she said.

Elizabeth drew back, looking at her with shiny eyes. "It's good to see you, too. I've missed you." Trying to overcome the sentimental mood, lest it might undermine her resolution, Patricia patted her shoulder and urged her on to the entrance. "Come on, let's get inside and sit down- I'm tired and thirsty."

When they were settled comfortably at a nice table near the window, drinks and snacks ordered, Patricia finally started to carry out her plan. With carefully placed questions, she skilfully led the conversation from the accident and its possible reasons, to the injuries Elizabeth had received and her feelings about Tom's death. In the end, she knew for sure that her friend suffered from amnesia.

First goal accomplished, she went on inquiring about Elizabeth's present circumstances. At that point, their conversation was interrupted by the waiter who brought their orders. When he'd left again, Patricia paved the way for her second goal by asking casually: "And how did you spend your first Christmas without Tom?"

She watched intently, as Elizabeth dropped her gaze and blushed profusely. Patricia had a hard time suppressing a smug grin when she saw Collins' information confirmed so explicitly. Only by fiercly pulling herself together, did she manage to keep a straight face, and wait patiently for Elizabeth's hesitant answer.

"We...we celebrated at Netherfield, with family and...friends. And I- I missed Tom- of course." A blatant lie- and they both knew it. Yet, Patricia didn't respond to it, but changed her angle of attack.

"Say, you haven't, by any chance, met any interesting men lately?"

Elizabeth's head snapped up, surprised about that unexpected question. "No, not at all!" But she recovered quickly, telling herself that there was no way anyone could know about her affair with William, and asked back: "Have you?"

Good girl, Patricia thought, launching her rehearsed answer: "I've met a very interesting man- good-looking, intelligent, rich- but I'm afraid, I'm not yet ready for a new relationship. -Well, no wonder, considering my last experience, don't you think?" While smiling sadly at her friend, she cheered inwardly.

Her brows knitted in confusion, Elizabeth looked back at her. "Your last experience?" she asked warily, suddenly sensing impending disaster.

Patricia's blue eyes widened innocently. "With William..." she offered quietly, her heart pounding like mad.

Elizabeth cleared her throat and swallowed hard, her hands fumbling nervously with the napkin in her lap. It occurred to her that she'd never asked anyone about the details of their breakup, not even William himself. Based on her wrong assessment of his character, she'd always seen it as a given that Patricia had left him. But what if he'd left her? And if so- why?

"You don't remember what happened, do you?" Patricia asked softly, interrupting her thoughts. Elizabeth shook her head, curious to hear more, yet at the same time unaccountably afraid of what was to come. "Tell me, please," she demanded with more self-confidence than she actually felt.

Patricia had a hard time containing her excitement. And once again something like compassion for her friend threatened to rear its head, but she repressed it vigorously and struck out for her final blow. Taking a deep breath, as if to brace herself, she said in a deliberately small voice. "He threw me out."

Her avowal had the intended effect. Elizabeth's expression changed from cautious anticipation to stunned disbelief within seconds. "But...but why would he...do that?" she stuttered.

Shrugging helplessly, Patricia went on. "He'd found someone else...someone more entertaining, I guess- so he dumped me."

Feeling slightly dizzy, her palms damp, Elizabeth could hardly bring herself to ask the next question: "He cheated on you?" She choked it out, silently praying for a negative answer.

"Oh yes, he did, more than once," Patricia stated, gathering momentum with every syllable she uttered, and finally setting aside any precaution, she plunged forward. "But of course he turned it all around, so in the end I was the one to blame."

Elizabeth's face was pale, her voice a strained whisper. "How did he do it?"

Patricia gazed at her in mock concern. "Are you sure you want to hear it?" She reached across the table to stroke her friend's upper arm. "Maybe it will be too much for you..."

But Elizabeth lifted her chin and squared her shoulders, determined not to show how deeply she was really affected. "Why should it be too much for me? After all, it's none of my business, is it? I hardly know William," she said with as much conviction as she could muster, but inwardly she winced at her second blatant lie in less than twenty minutes.

Patricia nodded slightly and licked her lips, preparing to tell her tale- again.

Elizabeth drove home in a daze. Fortunately she knew her way by heart, or else she would have landed in the ditch more than once.

After listening to Patricia's story, she'd excused herself rather hastily, pleading a headache and laying the blame on her work-overload. Not bothering whether her friend believed her or not, she took her leave and fled from the coffee bar, in dire need of solitude.

Finally she drove up in front of Longbourn House and turned off the ignition. Closing her eyes, she bent forward and pressed her forehead against the cool steering wheel. Slowly the shock wore off, taking with it the blessed numbness and leaving her exposed to raw emotions. They formed a knot in the pit of her stomach, their intensity tearing a sob from her throat, a torrent of tears following in its wake.

Only when she began to shiver from the chill that had found its way into her car, did she raise her head again, oblivious to the time that had passed. Her tears had long since abated and left her weak and tired. With stinging eyes she stared out of the windscreen at the dark house in front of her, which all of a sudden seemed to be so far away. She seriously considered staying where she was and just go to sleep, regardless of the cold. However, the stupidity of that thought brought her back to her senses rather quickly, anger about herself filling her with new energy. Cursing silently, she jumped out of her car and made her way to the house, glad that her father wasn't at home that evening. She didn't feel up to talking to anyone right now.

A little while later, clad in her pyjamas and a warm robe, she was sitting on the sofa in the living room with her legs tucked underneath her, a soft blanket spread across her lap. Her fingers were curled around a steaming mug of tea, but she didn't notice the heat that almost burned her skin, since she was too busy pacifying her rampant thoughts. They were swirling around in her head in hopeless disarray, yet the most painful stood out against the others: The man she'd fallen for was a notorious cheater, and a liar- a sham package.

But could it really be true? It seemed almost impossible that the man her friend had described, and the man she'd come to love were one and the same. Yet, other than her feelings, she had no reason not to believe it. Why should Patricia make up such a horrible slander- why should she lie? Her distress had been palpable when she'd gone through the whole story again, she'd even shed a few tears. Moreover, they were friends, they'd been family once, whereas William had been a stranger to her- until Netherfield.

Unbidden, Jane's warnings of Patricia echoed through her head, and made her hesitate in her musings. She tried to compare the image her sister had drawn with the woman she knew- she found no analogy. Furrowing her brow in discontent, she pushed aside her doubts, feeling more helpless than ever- nothing made sense anymore. When she raised her hand to rub it across her aching forhead, she realised that she was still holding on to her already cold mug. With a disgusted expression she put it down on the table and drew the blanket up to her chin, leaning back against the sofa.

Sick of all the different accounts and impressions she constantly received, she'd never wished so fervently to be able to remember. And for the first time ever, she suddenly felt as if getting back her memory would be of prime importance. Following an inexplicable urge, she shut her eyes tightly, willed her breath to slow down and concentrated deeply on her own heartbeat. Time seemed to stand still as she sat there, surrounded by pitch black darkness, totally withdrawn into herself.

Without warning and literally out of nowhere a succession of pin sharp pictures flashed through her mind at a breathtaking speed. Shocked to the core, her eyes wide as saucers, she gasped and flung herself from the sofa. Staring back at it in horror, she slowly rubbed her temples in an effort to clear her senses. When she'd regained a reasonable amount of control, she took some deep breath to steady her hammering heart. Memories- these must have been memories! She'd somehow managed to lure them out of the black whole they'd been lost in- she'd done it!

With a hand pressed to her chest, she paced up and down slowly and tried to recall one picture after the other. It was easier than she'd assumed, since they seemed to be burnt into her brain. She'd seen Tom, and he'd been clearly agitated- a rare occasion; she'd seen Patricia, crying desperately; then she'd seen her in Tom's arms, held closely to him- an image that disturbed beyond reason; and she'd seen William, angry and shouting- looking exactly like-

The sound of a car driving up in front of the house interrupted her thoughts. Her father was not supposed to come home tonight- he never did when he went out with Leah. Slightly irritated, she walked over to the window to peer through the curtains. Immediately recognising the car that stood now right beside hers, she took a deep breath and exhaled slowly- William.

What now? she asked herself. Was she ready to talk to him? Could she handle it, and stay calm? It didn't seem to be the best of times, given that this frightening image of him was so vivid in her mind. On the other hand, she knew that he had a right to defend himself, that she had to hear him out. While she was still debating with herself, the sound of the door bell floated through the house. She hesitated for a moment, than made her way to the hall, reminding herself to keep her temper in check.

~ * ~

It seemed like an eternity before she finally opened the door. William was so happy to see her that he took her in his arms right there on the threshold, oblivious to her dishevelled appearance. "I'm so glad I found you," he murmured into her hair. "I've missed you so much."

Only when she remained silent, did he realise that she didn't return his embrace. Her body was rigid, with her arms hanging by her sides. Slightly baffled he pulled back to look into her face- it was pale, and as blank as a doll's. All his misgivings rushed to the surface, drawing him into a relentless grip. With a tight knot in his stomach, he stepped back, his hands curled around her upper arms.

"What's the matter, love?" he asked, struggling hard to keep his voice from quivering.

With her gaze fixed to his chest, she stepped back as well; whether to shake off his hands, or merely to make room for him to enter, he couldn't decipher.

"You'd better come in," she said, her tone flat.

Full of trepidation he followed her to the living room, where she sat down on the sofa and asked him to do the same, but instead of offering the place beside her, she pointed to a chair across from her. He chose to ignore her snubbing, and sitting down by her side, took her hand into his. It felt cold and liveless.

"What's going on, Elizabeth? Why don't you look at me?"

She withdrew from his grip and stood up to face him for the first time this evening. This was so much harder than she'd thought. William almost recoiled from the hurt he found in her eyes. "You lied to me," she remarked, her voice shaky, yet determined.

Drawing a deep breath to steady himself, William dropped his head, then raised it again to return her gaze. "I did- though it was more of a concealment than a lie."

"That's hairsplitting- you didn't tell me the truth, no matter what you call it," she retorted sharply, clearly showing the anger that had built inside her with every word he'd said.

Unable to keep calm a second longer, he jumped up and took a step towards her. "Elizabeth, please, don't you see that I didn't have another choice? I would have lost you before-"

"So now you've lost me afterwards," she blurted out, completely ignoring her former resolution to hear him out. "Does this really make a difference?" she asked quietly.

But there was no answer. William had been stunned into silence by her words, struggling hard to absorb their meaning. As it slowly dawned on him, a lump formed in his throat and kept him from uttering a single word.

Misconstruing his taciturnity, Elizabeth began to pace the room, continuing her train of thoughts. "Of course it makes a difference to you- you wouldn't miss the opportunity to add another notch to your bedpost, would you? I wonder how many there are already!"

Her snappish remark jerked him out of his numbness, rapidly replacing pain with anger. With narrowed eyes, he asked in a dangerously low voice: "What are you talking about?"

She stopped in her tracks to face him again, her sparkling eyes shooting daggers at him. "You're a womaniser, William- a liar and a cheater. -You abused me."

Anger turned to raging fury upon hearing her accusation, and he moved closer to her. "How dare you...?" The retort got stuck in his throat, because as he loomed above her, her alluring scent suddenly filled his nostrils and sent an unexpected surge of desire coursing through his body. He stared at her in bewilderment, only to find the same longing mirrored in her eyes. She blushed deeply and averted her gaze, while he curled his hands into fists to prevent them from clutching her to him. Inhaling deeply to contain his untimely arousal, he asked in a throaty voice: "Tell me, Lizzy, did you feel abused?"

She squirmed uncomfortably at his gentle address, and her anger dissolved to leave her limp and exhausted. The sudden realisation that she felt as if they'd just made love, rendered her speechless.

William brought her back to reality, as he repeated his question insistently: "Did you, Lizzy?" "No," she whispered, compelled by her sense of honesty.

Tentatively he reached out and hooked a finger under her chin to lift her face up. At first she resisted, but then gave in to the soft pressure he exerted. Their gazes met and locked, while his thumb lightly caressed her soft skin. She'd craved his touch, and almost took the bait, leaning into his hand slightly. Yet, she knew that now was not the time to give into her desire and drew back from him, albeit reluctantly. Bereft of the contact, his hand hung in midair for a moment, before he curled it into a fist and lowered it slowly.

Taking another step back to escape his disturbing proximity, she folded her arms across her chest in a definite gesture of defence. She lifted her chin and looked at him intently. "I admit that I didn't feel abused," she pointed out, her voice thick with emotions. "I felt...loved and cherished- and that makes it even worse. You took advantage of me- not physically, but mentally- because you knew exactly that I couldn't remember what you'd done."

"Do you...remember now?" he asked, not less affected than she.

Elizabeth shook her head. "No, but I've been enlightened on who you really are- and what you did."

Without having to think twice, William immediately knew what was to come. There was only one person who could have informed her, a person he'd fervently hoped he never would have to deal with again.

Several different emotions crossed his face, while Elizabeth watched him closely, waiting for him to reply. But when he remained silent, she went on, determination edged into her features. "You interfered with my life and tainted my marriage. You accused my husband and his cousin- of all people- of cheating on me, while in truth, you cheated on her- repeatedly! And you turned it all around to preserve your reputation, just in case word about the reason for your breakup should spread- despite your best efforts to conceal it!"

"Patricia," William hissed through clenched teeth, unable to hold back anymore, lest he burst with the fury that had built inside of him once again. "Patricia told you!"

"That's irrelevant!" Elizabeth shot back sharply. "Suffice it to say that I'm no longer ingnorant to your machinations!"

"My machinations?" he repeated incredulously. "She's the one who deceived you- she's the liar!"

She cocked an eyebrow, her voice dripping with sarcasm, as she asked calmly: "Is she now? And you are the role model of honesty and frankness, right?" She snorted derisively. "Somehow I find that hard to believe!"

William looked back at her, took in her posture, the coldness in her eyes and knew all at once that he was fighting a losing battle. Desperation spread through him, pushing him not to give up yet- too much was at stake. Mechanically his fingers found his signet ring and started to twist it.

"There's no denying that I lied, that I concealed the truth from you- and words can't express how much I've come to regret it...but I felt that I didn't have another choice lest you turn away from me at once and...I just couldn't let that happen. I was aware that I might ruin everything with my dishonesty, but I was hoping that you knew me...loved me...well enough to believe me- and forgive me..." his voice had faded into a whisper and finally trailed off completely. There was no way he could go on without starting to cry.

Also on the verge of tears, Elizabeth felt for him and with him, as she watched him crumble right before her eyes. The sudden urge to take him into her arms was almost too strong to withstand. Only by pressing her fingernails into her tingling palms until it hurt, did she manage to hold back. If nothing else, at least he deserved an answer- even if it wouldn't provide him with the comfort he obviously needed. "How can I know you after so short a time? We were virtually strangers before...Netherfield," suddenly her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Or so you've told me..." "And it's true," William hurried to reassure her, his arms coming up as if to embrace her. "Please, Lizzy, you must believe me!" She gave no answer, but her horrified glance at his raised hands stopped him more effectively than anything she could have said. Retreating carefully, he swallowed hard and drew a shuddering breath. "I swear by God that I lied only once...everything else I've ever told you is nothing but the truth."

"Once is enough, William," she stated in a small, quiet voice. "I've learnt so much today...and now I'm totally confused- I really don't know what to think, or who do believe. I...you...mean a lot to me." Hope flickered in his eyes, and although she was loath to destroy it, she knew she would have to. "But can I trust you? Again- I don't know. I need time, William, time to...think, to sort out my thoughts and feelings."

As if in slow motion he reached for her hand, relaxing a little bit when she didn't snatch it away. Slowly he caressed her palm, then leaned forward and kissed it firmly; they both shivered, as sexual tension sprang to life immediately. For a few precious seconds reality was abolished and they were focused on nothing but each other, wordlessly exchanging memories of what they'd shared during those blissful days at Netherfield.

Finally William broke the spell. "Will it ever happen again?" he asked in a hoarse voice, not even bothering to specify his question.

Ever so slowly, Elizabeth slipped her hand out of his and shrugged helplessly. "Don't ask me... not now..."

"Just tell me, you'll forgive me- eventually...please?" he pleaded quietly.

Yielding to despair, she hung her head. "I can't promise anything...don't you understand?"

Silence ensued until she realised that he waited for her to look up again. When she did, their eyes met, shining with unshed tears, for one last intensive gaze, to take in features that would be committed to memory forever.

"Don't you ever forget how much I love you..." he whispered before he turned on his heels and all but fled from the house.

Chapter 12 - Part 1

As the door closed behind William with a loud thud, Elizabeth winced at the finality of the sound. Her heart and soul cried out his name, but it was no more than a whisper that passed through her lips: "William..."

If she'd followed her basic instincts, she would have run after him and thrown herself into his arms- yet, she stood rooted to the spot, held firmly in place by a scrap of sanity that insistently rang alarm bells in the back of her head.

Torn between emotions and reason, she let out a wail of anguish and fell to her knees, tightly hugging herself against the hollow feeling of loss, while tears of confusion streamed down her face.

Just a few minutes later Jane entered the hall of Longbourn House, carefully balancing a pile of books in one hand, and holding it in place with her chin pressed down on the one on top. After tucking her keys into the pocket of her trousers, she slowly deposited her load on the sideboard and shrugged out of her coat.

"Papa!" she called on her way to the living room. "It's Janie! You forgot to turn off the answering machine, so I- "

The words stuck in her throat at the sight she beheld. Curled up into a ball, Elizabeth was lying on the floor, shaking violently with desperate sobs. Driven by fear, Jane was on her knees by her sister's side in only seconds. Calling out her name, she touched her with gentle hands, stroking back the hair from her tear stained face; her eyes quickly scanned Elizabeth's body, trying to find the source for her obvious pain, while she continued speaking to her urgently. "Lizzy, what's the matter? -Are you hurt? -Talk to me, Lizzy- please."

But there was neither an answer to her questions, nor could she detect any outward indication of injury. Uncertainty about her sister's condition raised Jane's fear even more, forcing her to speak up and nudge her shoulder insistantly. "Lizzy, come on now! You're frightening me! Please, tell me what's wrong!"

Finally Elizabeth emerged from her stupor and turned her head to the intruding voice. Apparently disoriented, she blinked several times, then whispered "Jane", and without any warning, pushed herself up, threw her arms around her sister's neck and started crying anew.

Somewhat relieved to find her obviously unharmed, yet still worried, Jane rocked her gently and patted her back, murmuring comforting words of reassurance. That way they sat for a while until Elizabeth's sobs abated to soft sighs and occasional hiccups, and Jane's curiosity was built up almost unbearably.

Unable to wait a minute longer, Jane pulled back and again stroked back her sister's now damp hair from her face, while she looked enquiringly into her sad, puffy eyes. "Tell me what's going on here, Lizzy. -Where's Papa? -Are you in pain?"

Shaking her head, Elizabeth wiped her wet cheeks and took a deep breath. "P- Papa's out with Leah. W- William was here. W- We had a fight," she managed to answer in an unsteady voice. Jane's eyes widened in surprise. "A fight with William?" she asked incredulously.

Elizabeth just nodded slowly, feeling a new onslaught of tears. Jane sensed it, too and resolutely got to her feet, pulling her sister up with her and leading her to the sofa. "Sit down, Lizzy."

Too tired to resist, Elizabeth did as she was told and immediately slumped against the backrest. Jane took a seat by her side and clasped her sister's cold hand tightly. "Now- tell me what has happened."

Driving back to London through the darkness, as fast as his tear-blurred vision allowed, William was caught up in a mixture of desperation and fury so intense that he could hardly breathe. His heart ached with every single beat at the thought of his beloved Elizabeth, while in his head he imagined all the cruel ways to take revenge on Patricia, should he ever get hold of her.

It was quite obvious that she'd somehow managed to sneak her way back into his life and make his worst nightmare come true- but he was at a complete loss as to how she'd done it. How had she learnt about his relationship with Elizabeth? Up to now nobody knew, except for those they'd spent Christmas together with. Though the notion that one of them had been in contact with his ex-fianc饠all the time seemed highly improbable, he had to subject one after the other to a brief contemplation- and finally ended up with no answer.

Discontented with the outcome of his ventilations, he started all over again, when realisation hit him- Caroline! He'd immediately banned her from his thoughts, once she'd been out of sight, so he'd almost forgotten about her flying visit to Netherfield. She had to be the one who'd informed Patricia! He remembered clearly how she'd always kissed up to his fianc饭 undoubtedly to be closer to him- and how Patricia had teased him about Caroline's officiousness and how she'd laughed about her. Nevertheless they'd had lunch and tea together, and occasionally had even gone shopping- it had always been a capital joke for Patricia.

Yes, if anyone was likely to entertain a friendship with her it would haveto be Caroline; he was convinced to be correct, yet he wanted confirmation. He fumbled out his mobile and punched in Charles' number. His friend answered immediately. "Will- hi! How-"

"Charles, I need you to do me a favour," William interrupted him rather rudely. "Can you find out for me if Caroline is in contact with Patricia?"

There was stunned silence on the other end of the line.

"Charles? Can you hear me? Are you there?"

"Yes, yes, I am here- I was just wondering...I can't imagine- well...truth be told, I can, but-"

Unbeknown to his friend, this wasn't a good time to tax William's patience. "Charles, for heaven's sake- stop babbling! Could you just ask her?"

"What's the matter with you, Will? What's wrong?" Charles asked, all of a sudden very worried. William sighed deeply. "Everything's wrong, everything..." his voice sounded sad and tired. "I'll explain, I promise- just not now. Please, call Caroline- will you?"

"Hmm, it may not be the best of times for me to talk to her- after I threw her out of Netherfield... But I'll try to catch Lousia, maybe she knows..."

"Thanks, Charles. I'll wait for you to call me back."

"Alright- and William, don't forget your promise."

"I won't. Thanks."

They both rang off.

Having done all he could at the moment to get the confirmation he needed, William felt his anger slowly abate. Fiercely he tried to hold on to it, because he knew full well what would follow in its wake. His mental strength, however, was already worn down, leaving him unable to fend off the grief and desperation that assailed him. They swept over him like a tidal wave, tore at his heart and soul and brought fresh tears to his eyes.

Despite the flicker of hope that had marked the end of his fight with Elizabeth, he couldn't allow himself to believe in her forgiveness, not in the near future anyway- she'd said so herself. But how was he supposed to be without her after he'd learnt how it felt to be with her? He'd dreamt about having her by his side constantly, about spending the rest of his life with her. Now all his hopes had been destroyed by an act of wilful deception. Patricia had sought revenge, and she'd found it; she couldn't have thought of a better way to retaliate. The sound of his ringing mobile interrupted his reverie, jerking his back from the dark edge of desperation. He grabbed for it eagerly.

"Charles?"

"Hi, Will, I-"

"What did you find out?" Too excited to drive on, William pulled his car to the side of the road and turned off the ingnition.

"Well...you guessed right. Patricia did call Caroline, and Caroline was totally beside herself with joy to hear again from her dear friend after such a long time."

William quickly expelled the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. "After such a long time?" he repeated in confusion.

"Yes, according to Louisa there hasn't been any contact between them for months. Otherwise Caroline would have told her- you know how she always-"

"Sucked up to Patricia," William impatiently concluded his friend's statement. "Yes, I know. -And Louisa's sure, isn't she?"

"Fairly. -What's this all about, Will?" Charles' voice sounded rather irritated. "Why does it matter to you if there's any connection between the two of them?"

His eyes closed, William rubbed his forehead with his free hand. "I...I can't explain right now, not yet anyway. I have to...think about it first. Tomorrow, Charles...alright? I'll tell you tomorrow."

He knew he was putting his friend's endurance to the test, but nevertheless hoped fervently that Charles would relent. "I won't renege. I'll keep my promise."

Finally William heard his friend take a deep breath and exhale slowly. "Alright..."

"Thank you, Charles...There's one more thing, though..."

"What else?"

"Could you, please, ask Jane to call Elizabeth? She's at home- alone."

William's plea was met by a long silence. Eventually Charles spoke up. "I don't have the slightest idea what this is all about. Seems you'll have an awful lot of explaining to do, you know that?"

"Of course I know...but Charles, please..."

"Well, as a matter of fact, Jane is at Longbourn right now."

A sigh of relief escaped William. "Good, that's good," he murmured, "she shouldn't be alone right now."

"Listen Will, it's better we cut this short. One more of those cryptical comments of yours, and I'm really going to lose my patience. -I'll hear from you tomorrow then?"

"You will, Charles. -And thanks again. Good night."

"Good night, Will."

Though the line went dead, William still held his mobile in place. It took him a few moments to realise that his friend had hung up, and he did the same. Lost in thought, he restarted his car and manoeuvred it back onto the road to continue his way to London.

After Elizabeth had recounted accurately everything that had occurred that day, the sisters sat in silence for a few minutes, both of them absorbed in thought.

In the end, Jane inhaled audibly and breathed out on a long sigh, unerringly getting to the crux of the whole affair with one pointed remark. "So you chose to believe in Patricia rather than in William."

Groaning in frustration, Elizabeth buried her face in her hands. "No, not really...oh, I don't know," she stated, her voice muffled by her palms. "I don't know what to think anymore..."

She massaged her temples with her fingertips while Jane squeezed her shoulder and waited in patient silence for her to go on. At long last, striving for composure, Elizabeth took a deep breath and sat up straight, placing her hands in her lap. "Patricia's a friend- she's even been family once and William's the man I love- with all my heart. And I trust- trusted- them both. But now there are two different versions of the same event- an event I don't remember. She accuses him and he accuses her- but who am I to believe? In all the time I knew Paticia, I never had reason to mistrust her. And I can't imagine why she would tell me a lie about a man she doesn't even know I'm involved with. She has no idea whatsoever that we're an item...On the other hand, it's a fact, that William lied to me- he concealed the past from me, he admitted as much. Why would he do that if not to protect himself? And why should he need to protect himself if he hasn't done anything wrong...?"

She watched Jane anxiously, whose brow was furrowed in deep contemplation. "Do I make any sense, Janie?"

Jane nodded slowly. "Of course you do, Lizzy. But are you really- beyond any doubt- sure that you can trust Patricia?"

"I know you dislike her, but- "

Waving her hands impatiently, Jane interrupted her sister. "It's not that alone..." She stood up, too agitated to remain still. "Don't you think it's rather strange that she reappears out of nowhere just when you and William are getting closer? Isn't that almost too much of a coincidence?" "But how can she possibly know about us? Nobody outside of our families does!"

Jane frowned in discontent. "That's true...yet..." she hesitated, not ready to admit that her sister could be right. Chewing her lower lip, she searched for a plausible explanation while Elizabeth watched her with raised eyebrows. All of a sudden Jane's face brightened and her hand shot out to point her index finger at her sister. "Caroline!" Slightly taken aback, Elizabeth leaned back to escape Jane's stabbing finger. "You're clutching at straws, Janie," she admonished quietly with a small shake of her head.

Shrugging her shoulders in defeat, Jane slumped back onto the sofa. "True...because I refuse to believe that William is capable of such dishonourable behaviour. He's too honest-"

"He lied to me," Elizabeth interjected calmly.

"I know he did- but for a very good reason, don't you think?" Jane shot back.

"He didn't want to lose me," her voice began to quiver. "I understand that, but now I feel..." Fresh tears sprang to her eyes. "I feel so stupid...angry...disappointed." They started to flow freely down her cheeks. "I've come to love him so much, but how am I ever to trust him again? How am I ever to know what is true and what isn't?"

Jane turned to her and took her into her arms again, tenderly stroking her hair. "Oh, Lizzy, don't. It's obvious that William loves you too, and I'm sure he's as desperate as you are for having lied to you. You need some time to think, is all. Everything will be alright, you'll see."

Elizabeth pressed her damp face into Jane's sweater. "Oh Janie, that's all I wish for! But I'm so afraid...What if it turns out to be an illusion- like my life with Tom?"

When the meaning of her words struck them, they both froze and held their breath. Seconds ticked by in absolute torpor until the silence was broken by a whisper.

"Jane?"

"Uhu?"

"What did I just say?"

"You said..." she gulped audibly. "You said, your life with Tom was an illusion..."

Slowly Elizabeth lifted her head and pressed one hand over her mouth. Eyes wide in shocked surprise, she stared at Jane whose expression matched hers.

"Lizzy...where did that come from?"

Elizabeth shook her head and lifted her shoulders for a helpless little shrug, indicating that she didn't have the faintest idea.

"Do you remember anything?" Jane asked breathlessly, grabbing at her sister's free hand.

Again Elizabeth shook her head and by then, trusting her mind and voice enough to answer the question coherently, took her hand down. "No...no, not really. I only managed to conjure up a few pictures, just before William arrived."

Jane's tension was almost palpable. "What kind of pictures?"

"Tom...Patricia...William...in various moods and situations."

"Oh, Lizzy, that can only mean that your memory's coming back. And once you remember, you'll know what really happened- and everything will be alright."

Elizabeth nodded, smiling slightly for the first time that evening, carried along by her sister's infectious optimism. "I hope so, Janie, with all my heart."

"Will you tell me what you saw?"

With some of the stress gone, the sisters relaxed on the sofa, and talked well past midnight.

After Jane had gone home to Netherfield, Elizabeth went to bed and immediately fell into an exhausted, undisturbed sleep blissfully oblivious to the fact that it was to be her last peaceful night in a long time to come.

Chapter 12 - Part 2

William pulled his car to a sudden stop and stared out through the windscreen at the dark street. To his surprise he found himself right in front of his cousin's house. He had no idea how this had come to pass since he'd planned on driving home directly. Obviously he'd been too engrossed in thought to pay attention to his way. Shaking his head in frustration, he wanted to turn back when he remembered how good it had felt to talk to someone about Elizabeth- to talk to Richard about her. His subconscious mind must have led him to where he could find at least some relief. After a last moment's consideration, he decided to confide in his cousin once again; while it may not ease the pain he felt, it may help to cope with the anger that had been building inside of him to a dangerous degree during the past hour.

Richard opened the door even before William had lifted his hand to ring the bell. "Why do I have the feeling that something is terribly wrong?" he asked without preamble as he stepped aside to admit his visitor. William walked inside and went straight to the living room, relying upon Richard to follow him, which he did.

For a few minutes not a word was spoken, until they sat facing each other, both with a glass of brandy in hand, and having taken a sip in unison.

"What's going on?" Richard finally asked, watching his cousin closely.

William inhaled deeply to calm himself, yet his voice was harsh with emotions. "Elizabeth knows everything- Patricia told her."

Richard's eyes widened in surprise. "Patricia...?"

With a nod and another heavy sigh, William began to recount the events of the evening, closing with what Charles had told him not half an hour ago.

Staring into his glass, Richard took in every word his cousin said, until in the end he looked up with his brows drawn into a deep V. "Excellent timing, don't you think?"

"Eerie applies to it much better," William remarked bitterly before taking another sip of his drink. "There's no way she could have known about Elizabeth and me, yet she called Caroline just at the right time- I'd call that eerie."

Richard snorted. "Now, come on, Will- where's your common sense? Somebody must have told her. There's a lot of attributes you may ascribe to Patricia- and none too flattering, mind you- but psychic surely isn't among them! No- there's a whistle-blower hidden somewhere in the bushes, I'm sure."

"Don't you think I figured that out myself? -I'm not totally out of my right mind!" William retorted sharply and- too agitated to remain seated- got up from his chair, and began to pace the room with long, even strides. "She must have known about us before calling Caroline! But there just isn't anyone likely to have told her. Think of those we were together with and tell me who it was!" he challenged, stopping in front of his cousin and staring down at him.

Despite the obvious threat in William's stance, Richard didn't even flinch, but looked back at him steadily. He knew his cousin's aggression wasn't directed against him, yet he decided to tread lightly now, assuming that William might not like the idea he was going to give voice to. "What about Elizabeth herself? Ever thought about that?"

Instead of blowing up, William thrust out a sound between sigh and laughter and turned on his heels. He retreated to his chair and slumped back down. "Actually I did. -But I abandoned the idea rather quickly. I can't imagine Elizabeth telling Patricia that she's shagging her ex-fianc鮠I mean- who would be so screwy, after all?"

Richard could just nod, inwardly struggling to contain his surprise at William's use of language- slang normally wasn't part of his vocabulary. He took it as a sign that his cousin was involved much deeper than he would have presumed.

"This is real love, isn't it?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"It doesn't get more real, I suppose," came the equally quiet response.

"So what are you going to do about it?"

William shrugged helplessly. "What can I do? I messed it up, Rick- badly. You were right in the first place- I should have told her right away. Now...after having been with her..." his suddenly moist eyes dropped to the carpet as he took a deep breath to steady his voice. "I can't stand the thought never to be with her again," he finished quickly before the lump that formed in this throat could rob him of speech.

Looking at the picture of misery his cousin presented- bowed head, hunched shoulders, a lonely tear that dropped down on his tightly clasped hands- Richard felt his heart go out to him. Deeply ashamed of himself, he had to admit that he hadn't taken William seriously enough, he'd gravely underestimated the depth of his feelings for Elizabeth. To his surprise the protective instinct for his younger cousin that had been such an essential part of his childhood and youth, suddenly roared to life again. There was only so much a man could bear and William certainly had had his share of grief and sorrow in the course of the past months- doubtlessly enough to last him a lifetime. Richard leaned forward and carefully placed his hand on William's arm, making him glance up at him. Deliberately ignoring his cousin's pitiable state, he attempted to look and sound as cheerful as he could. "Tell you what, Will- we'll call it a day for now. Stay the night and then we're going to deal with the real serious stuff tomorrow, when we're both well rested and at our best. What d'you say?"

William hesitated, obviously pondering his options. Richard's suggestion was very tempting and the thought of an empty apartment not too appealing. In the end he gave a slight nod and even managed a wry smile.

"There, that's my boy!" Richard exclaimed and patted his shoulder. Then he stood up, stretched and yawned openly. "You know I'm quite tired myself."

"I got your hint, Rick," William remarked dryly as he rose from his chair and walked to the door. Without turning around, he stopped on the threshold. "Thanks, Rick," he said quietly and went out of the room.

Even though he knew that William wouldn't hear him, Richard replied. "Anytime, Will- anytime."

~ * ~

When Richard woke up the next morning, William was gone. He'd left a note saying that he was on his way to Netherfield to discuss important business with Jane and Charles and closed with a promise to call later in the day. Knowing that an argument with William was fruitless when he'd made up his mind, Richard just shrugged, tore the note to tiny pieces and threw them into the wastebasket. He'd have to wait.

Instead of going directly to Netherfield, William stopped at Longbourn. Momentarily unsure how to proceed, he remained seated in his car, his look going back and forth between the house and the letter that lay on the passenger seat. Unable to put his reeling mind at rest, he'd spent the better part of last night writing down the truth about his dealings with Patricia and Tom, and his thoughts and feelings for Elizabeth to read- and hopefully to understand.

While he still considered whether to just drop the letter into her mailbox or to hand it over to her personally, the front door opened and Elizabeth stepped outside. When she lifted her gaze and saw William's car, she hesitated just a second then wirled around to go back inside. Before she could disappear again, however, William left his seat and called out her name, the sound of his voice rooting her to the spot. She could hear him coming up the gravel walk and stop just a few inches behind her.

"Good morning, Elizabeth," he said softly. Briefly she closed her eyes as her heart skipped a beat and her stomach lurched. Vigorously fighting her physical reaction to his presence, she turned around slowly and gazed at him with as much poise as she could muster. When he looked back at her, she realised at once that he was equally stricken, his struggle for control clearly matching her own.

"Good morning, William," she acknowledged, her voice brittle.

"I..." he started and dropped his eyes. "Please," he began again, looking back up, "will you read this letter?" At that, he thrust out his hand and all but pushed a thick envelope under her nose. Too surprised to think of anything else to do, she took it and gazed at it in wonder. Before she could gather her wits to come up with an appropriate comment, she heard him mumble "Thank you" and when she lifted her eyes, saw him retreat quickly, climb into his car and drive away. Dumbfounded she stood there for a few moments, staring after him, weighing the letter in her hand. Finally she shook her head slightly to regain her senses and stepped back into the house, ripping the letter open as she went.

After informing her secretary that she would be in the office later than planned, she settled down in the living room and began to read:

Dearest Elizabeth,

while I'm well aware that right now you wouldn't wish to have anything to do with me, I still hope that you will read this letter.

Let me make it clear, though, that I don't mean to impose myself upon you. I will respect the decision you made tonight, but I feel that too many things were left unsaid. It was my fault, I know, because instead of staying calm and rational, I let my feelings get the better of me- I lost control. I will try to make up for that now.

There is no use denying that I lied to you- I concealed the truth from you. For this, I have no excuse other than my own cowardice. When we met at my father's funeral, I fell for you- utterly and completely. I still don't understand how it happened, or why; but then, there are things that fly in the face of logic- for want of a better explanation, people tend to call that destiny. Not that I ever believed in it, but I'm beginning to reconsider my attitude...

That dreadful day, when my father was laid to his rest, I was on the verge of shattering. Things had been going on for months to pull the last of my strength out of me, abrading my self-control until it was practically non-existant. My professional life was the only thing that kept me going while everything in my private life seemed to turn to crap the second I touched it. All in all, I was so lonely and desperate like I'd never been before. You realised that at once, didn't you? -I know you did, because I could feel you reading me like an open book. And when I finally touched you, emotions came rushing back to me that I had long thought lost to me forever- hope and trust, and even desire. I'm not proud to admit it, rather very ashamed in fact, but right there- at my father's gravesite- I wanted you, badly.

Later on, during the funeral repast, when I managed to escape into my study and you happened upon me, I'd just decided that it would be for the best if I stayed away from you. Added to the strain I'd been under that day, I couldn't keep from crying any longer. Having you near me then was more than I could bear- all I knew was that I needed you in my arms; please believe me, that I didn't do it on purpose- I acted purely on instinct. But I'm glad I did it, because it felt like heaven- you felt like heaven, and your instantaneous response to me made it all the sweeter. I still wonder how far we would have gone if Georgie hadn't interrupted us...

The rather unpleasant scene that followed my sister's untimely- or timely?- appearance is by no means something I would wish to dwell upon, but it is necessary nonetheless so you can better relate to my reaction. I felt that I'd opened myself up to you like I'd never done to anyone else, which left me vulnerable and totally defenseless. When you lashed out at me- understandably so, by the way- I was struck to the core. I'm still at a loss where I found the strength to restore my self-control in the face of your rejection, but somehow I succeeded- and struck back. Then when you stood before me with your head bowed, on the verge of tears, I was so torn between holding on to my pride and throwing myself at your feet that I had to flee from your presence. Upon leaving my study I must have looked like a madman, judging from the glance Georgie cast at me when I met her outside. She refrained from commenting on my countenance, however, which was a good thing, since I might have wacked out on the spot.

How I made it through the rest of that day is still beyond my grasp; in any case, I was an easy prey for Jane to literally trap me into coming to Netherfield for Christmas- I wasn't left with the slightest chance to decline her invitation. That time before the holidays- when I knew I was going to see you again- was a constant struggle for me. Emotions against reason, on a daily basis. But no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't find a way for me to be with you without telling you the truth- at that point I never even considered concealing it from you. So I decided to opt for your friendship. By then I took pride in my seemingly reasonable decision, I really thought I could live with that just fine. Little did I know that I was already way beyond reason where you were concerned.

Although I'd made up my mind to be at my very best, I dreaded our reunion at Netherfield. I was unsure how you would react to seeing me again. Imagine my relief when I realised that you had obviously also come to terms with our last encounter. Not having expected it at all, I was deeply moved by your apology (though I still think it was absolutely not necessary since you have done nothing wrong, I'm the one to blame for what has happened at Pemberley- entirely). However, from the moment we seemed to have cleared the air between us, being with you gave me great comfort. I was happy and totally at ease, and still convinced about my absurd friendship-theory- until Caroline showed up.

In retrospect this might be the only unselfish thing she's ever done in her whole meaningless life, albeit unintenionally. God, I relished your reaction to her arrival; I basked in your sudden regard for me, soaked up the attention you paid me like a parched man having finally found water. But even then I didn't realise what was really happening to me; it just didn't occur to me that all those feelings you caused in me- hope, happiness, peace, desire- should be seen as a whole, as love itself.

That fateful evening, in front of your room, I had no intention to kiss you- it just happened. Put it down to my lack of control when it comes to you, but you were so beautiful, so sweet, so very desirable that I was unable to resist temptation a moment longer. I swear I hadn't planned to go any further, though, I honestly meant to leave it at one kiss and then bid you farewell. If it hadn't been for Caroline's anewed interference, I would never have entered your room. When we were inside, I still tried to fight my longing for you, knowing that I had to tell you the truth about what I'd done in the past. But your ardent response to me, your overwhelming passion, once again were more than I could stand- my brain simply shut down, reducing me to nothing more than a bundle of physical needs and urges.

What happened then was way beyond my wildest dreams. Never in my life have I felt so wholly connected to another person- in body and soul. I experienced emotions that were totally new to me- belonging, rightness, completeness; they made me finally discover that I was in love with you, so violently it took my breath away. And suddenly I realised that I didn't want to be without you ever again, I wanted you with me forever.

Only then did I perceive the trouble I'd gotten myself into. I'd really thought I would be able to tell you the truth after we'd made love- at least I had had any intention to do so. But how could I do that now? I was so afraid of losing you that I abandoned all my principles- I lied, I was dishonest. Though I knew that I would have to tell you eventually, I wanted to put it off as long as possible. I hoped, prayed for time- time for you to get to know me better, to learn to love and trust me, so our bond would be strong enough to survive the blow.

After leaving Netherfield, however, I began to reconsider my decision. Your nightmare and your fit of dizziness (I just know there was more to it than you admitted- and I hope you'll tell me one day) had scared the hell out of me. I knew beyond a doubt that what you'd seen in your dream had been a scrap of your memory and I feared it would return before you trusted me enough to believe my side of the story, since I have no idea whether you were aware of your husband's infidelity before the accident, or still as unsuspecting as you were when I first told you about it.

Anyway, I'm not used to lying, I hardly do. I was taught to be honest and truthful by both my parents and I always hold on to it, because normally telling anything else but the truth makes me feel uncomfortable. So in the end, driven by self-contempt and disgust for having lied to you, I made up my mind to take the risk and tell you everything. I'd planned to do it on our date. But Patricia beat me to it- deceiving you once again. I was so angry when I realised what she'd done- I would have strangled her right away, had I gotten hold of her.

Elizabeth please, I beg you, you must not believe a word she says! She's the liar, the cheater, always has been- along with your late husband. In spite of the pain I'm inflicting upon you with this information, I swear to god that it's true. Eighteen months ago, I caught them, in the middle of the day, in my own bedroom, just as they... well, I firmly refuse to immerse myself in detailed descriptions- suffice it to say that the situation spoke for itself. I don't know for how long I just stood there watching them, numb with shock, rendered immobile and speechless. While I ever so slowly emerged from my stupor, they became aware of my presence.

At which point your husband chose to take his leave rather hastily- I suppose he didn't trust my self-control enough to face up to me. He needn't have worried, though, for my focus was on my unfaithful fianc饠rather than on him. To my amazement, she didn't show the slightest sign of remorse about what she'd done, behaving as if everything was perfectly in order, except that she chose not to talk to me for any length of time, but rather ignore me completely. As I watched her getting out of bed, putting on a dressing gown and lighting a cigarette, all in perfect silence, I was encompassed by a weird sense of irreality. In that very moment, I realised that I was more like a spectator and much less like a participant to the whole scene. This keen insight made it possible for me to dissociate myself entirey from what had just occurred, hence enabling me to gauge my emotions thoroughly; I found out that the sharp pain I'd felt at seeing them didn't stem from a broken heart but from hurt pride. A strangely fascinating discovery that told me a lot about my relationship with Patricia, my feelings for her.

However, while I was still mulling over the consequences of my new awareness, she brought me back to reality by wrathfully rounding upon me. Momentarily I was totally taken aback, not in the least prepared for her attack, but I recovered quickly and all too soon a grim fight ensued. Again, I ask for your understanding for not going in too deep in what was said in the course of that very fierce argument; thinking back to it makes me feel sick. Let me just say that she was much more furious than she was entitle to be, given the situation. In her opinion, I was the one to blame for her cheating. She claimed that I'd never paid attention to her the way she'd deserved it, that I'd neglected her most of the time, and that- in the main- I was all but an amiable man, too uptight, too closemouthed, not easy enough, and what not. Even though I shouldn't have cared anymore at that point, her disdainful evaluation of my character hurt a lot, just as had been her intention, I presume. My well-trained self-control, however, enabled me not to let it show.

To cut this long story short, I asked her to move out of my apartment as fast as possible, told her that our engagement was over and the wedding would be cancelled immediately. When I turned on my heels to leave she was boiling with fury. She'd really expected that I'd let her stay, that we would go on with our life as if nothing at all had happened. From her viewpoint- whether genuine or not- it had been my fault that she'd ended up having an affair, so the responsibility was mine as well. Absurd!

After informing my secretary that I wouldn't come back to the office, I went straight to Pemberley. There I spent the rest of the day and most of the following night to ponder my options and sort out my thoughts and feelings. In the end I reached the conclusion to conceal the reason for our breakup- it was an entirely private matter, after all. Just the thought of all the malicious gossip that was sure to befall my family, should the truth become generally known, sickened me- there would be enough to rant about as it was. So I decided to remain silent, even though deep inside I wished for nothing more than to expose Patricia and Tom to the public storm of outrage they both deserved.

To my mind there was only one other person who was entitled to be informed about this galling affair- Tom's wife, you. It didn't even occur to me that you might not believe me when I arrived at your apartment the next day. Of course I was prepared to deal with doubts and skepticism, but I hoped you would have at least an inkling of your husband's infidelity. Alas, no such luck there! Thinking back to our fight still gives me the creeps; rest assured that Patricia's fury has been as nothing compared to yours. You met me head-on, never wavering, never backing down, flinging right into my face the twisted story Patrica and Tom had instilled in you.

You accused me of having betrayed my fiancée, hinted none too subtle that I'd done it more than once; you called into question my honesty and veracity, didn't bother at all to hide your contempt about my alleged duplicity. I was outraged, but no matter what I said to try to convince you, you held on to your opinion, you even laughed about my side of the story.

Let me be frank- I admired your loyalty, but at the same time I was greatly annoyed about your stupidity. Having never had any sympathy for your husband, I couldn't understand how anyone could overlook his false affability, his evident sleekness- to me the man was slippery as an eel. In any case, we fought a fierce battle, heated and stubborn, both unrelenting, until I was finally at a complete loss for words, unable to think of anything more to say to convince you of the truth. You had no such difficulty, however, and before I could recover sufficiently, you'd called me a cheater and a liar, and demanded that I leave your apartment immediately. Within seconds I found myself back on the street, bewildered, confused and furious.

After this day I spent very little time in London, avoiding public appearances and social functions as best I could. Therefore I don't know how matters proceeded between Patricia, Tom and you. I'm only aware of the fact that she stayed at your home for quite a while before moving to her own apartment, and- to my surprise- it seemed that your marriage hadn't suffered any obvious damage. Though I tried to bann the thought from my mind as best I could, it still bothered me that you could be deceived so easily without noticing in the least.

When we met at Jane and Charles' wedding, however, I observed an alarming change in your demeanour. You were tense and nervous- so very unlike you, that I just couldn't refrain from addressing you again. Not having expected your patience to be so razor thin, I was quite taken aback by your aggressive rebuke. 'I don't want to hear another word, William,' you said, your eyes full of contempt. 'You made me suspicious without a cause- you tainted my marriage. If I should have any trouble with my husband, it would be your fault alone. So once and for all, stay out of my life!'

Just as I wanted to reply to your outburst, we were interrupted by Tom who pretended to have been in search of you. I was ready to ignore him, but before I could say a word, you forestalled me. Loud enough for him to hear, you said: 'You're a despicable man, William, I don't want to see you ever again.' Then you let him drag you away, which he did while he gave me a smug grin that escaped you completely. That was the last I saw of you until my father's funeral. And so I'm back where I originally started; a good point maybe, to end this letter. Let me say just one more thing, though: every word I've written is the absolute truth. Unfortunately, I can't produce any witnesses to support my story; I can only appeal to your comprehension of my character, and to what my friends and family may have told you about me- I'm well known for my honesty. The only one time I did lie backfired big time, as we both know; I will regret it for the rest of my life.

Other than that I can only say: I love you, Elizabeth, with all my heart and soul, and always will. You are my other half.

Forever yours, William

Elizabeth stared at the letter in her lap, her overburdened mind jumping back and forth between the only coherent notions she could come up with: What have I done? and Can it be true? It took her a long time to recover from the emotional onslaught William's narration had produced. Then, ever so slowly her common sense returned, enabling her to break through the vicious circle of her thoughts. The magnitude of her decision, not to believe him, became clearer by the minute, and with that realisation, tears rose in her eyes, blurring his clear, strong handwriting. God, she needed her memory back!

The insistant ringing of the telephone jerked her back to reality. Quickly she dried her eyes with the back of her hand and glanced at the clock. Almost noon! She'd been sitting there for hours, reading and staring into space. With stiff movements, she stood and walked over to pick up the receiver.

Chapter 13 - Part 1

"Lizzy! Thank heavens!" Jane's slightly hysterical voice shrilled through the phone. "Are you alright?"

Elizabeth's brow furrowed at her sister's agitation. "Of course I'm alright. Why would you think that I'm not?"

"Because," Jane huffed. "I've been trying for hours to catch you. Your mobile's turned off, you were not in your office and this is the third time I'm calling at Longbourn. Didn't you hear the ringing?"

"Obviously not," Elizabeth stated distractedly, while her thoughts were inexorably drawn back to the letter she still held in her hand.

Jane snorted impatiently at her sister's inattention. "Lizzy, would you please listen! This is important!"

But a quiet "Uhu..." was all she got for an answer.

When Jane spoke again, she deliberately accentuated every word. "This is about William."

"William?" Elizabeth's head snapped up, and involuntarily she pressed the phone closer to her ear. "What about him?"

"So you're going to listen now?" Jane asked slightly ironical.

"Yes, of course- of course I'm listening...Do tell, please."

"Well, he came to Netherfield this morning to tell us what has happened...between the two of you. Of course Charles and I already knew, and he seemed glad about it- I guess, because it spared him the ordeal of going through the whole story again. However, he also came to...to take his leave..."

There was a slight pause, as Jane's words slowly registered. Then Elizabeth swallowed hard before she asked in a trembling voice. "Take his leave? What are you talking about, Janie?"

"He's leaving the country...I'm so sorry, Lizzy." Jane's voice was full of compassion. "We tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn't listen- he was adamant about his decision. He said that he needed distance, physically and mentally, to come to terms with... everything..."

While listening to her sister, Elizabeth felt her whole body go cold. It hurt so much that she had to fight to hold back a cry of pain. She closed her eyes tightly, fiercely struggling to maintain her self-control. Yet, she couldn't prevent tears from slowly seeping from beneath her lashes. On a subconscious level she noticed that they felt strangely hot on her cool skin.

When she realised that Jane was still talking, she forced herself to pay attention. "...didn't want to tell us where he would be going to. He just said, he'd get in touch with us in due time...And in the end he asked me to convey his sincerest apologies to you, since he wouldn't be able to keep your appointment for lunch..."

Elizabeth's eyes popped open in shock. With everything that had been going on these past two days, she'd completely forgotten about her date with William. She shook her head in despair- obviously it didn't matter anymore, did it? He'd left, anyway...

"Oh Lizzy, I wish I could do something- anything to help...He can be so stubborn! I mean, I know he's hurt, but so are you, and running away isn't a solution, after all! He-"

"Janie," Elizabeth interrupted hoarsely, and carefully cleared her throat before going on. "Leave it be. I...understand his decision- and to own the truth, just now, I feel like running away, too..."

Silence ensued as Jane digested her sister's declaration. Finally she asked cautiously: "Is there something I don't know yet, Lizzy?"

Suddenly it all became too much. Although Elizabeth knew that her sister only meant well, she couldn't bear to answer yet another question. In the long run there would be no escaping Jane, but for now, she just wanted to be left alone with her thoughts and feelings. "Yes, Janie," she said, keeping her voice as steady as possible, "there is. I just don't feel up to telling you right now. I...I need to think it over first. Give me some time, alright? -Then I'll tell you."

After hesitating briefly, Jane adhered to her sister's plea. "Well...alright...Are you sure, though?"

"I am- absolutely."

"Fine...should I call again?"

"No! No...I'll call you back. -Bye, Janie."

"Bye, Lizzy."

The instant the receiver hit the cradle, Elizabeth gave in to her desperation and started weeping inconsolably. Afraid that her knees might give way beneath her any second, she stumbled back to the sofa with unseeing eyes and slumped down heavily. Clutching William's letter to her chest, she dipped to her side and buried her face in the soft fabric of a sofa cushion.

William shifted uncomfortably, trying to relax into his seat. He hated flying, avoided it whenever he could. His lips twitched into a humourless smile- that thought from a man who sits in his own private jet, he thought. His tax consultants had strongly advised him to purchase the plane as a means for additional depreciation. He'd declined at first, but the family- fascinated with the idea of permanently having a plane at their disposal- had finally talked him into buying it. Since then they'd all made good use of it, except for him.

But today he was thankful for the acquisition. No scheduled flight could have brought him out of the country fast enough. On his way to the airport, he'd called Richard to tell him what he was about to do. Seemingly not surprised in the least by his decision, his cousin had listened in intent silence- and in the end had spoken the words that still echoed in William's mind. "Being gutless again, dear cousin? You going to make cowardice an artform, or what?"

William had fiercly suppressed a tart reply, knowing full well that his cousin wouldn't understand anyway. Being enamoured, having a fling, maybe even falling in love occasionally, were things Richard could surely relate to. But how was he to explain what he really wanted to a man who considered dating the same woman more than twice a long-term relationship?

He wanted to be with Elizabeth more than he'd ever wanted anything else in his entire life. But it was not only about wanting, it was about needing- a basic need, to be precise. Without her, he would never be happy again, he would return to being a hollow shell, bereft of emotions. He desperately needed what only she could give- peace of mind, contentment, belonging, security- love.

And herein lay the crux of the matter. From the bottom of his heart he knew that should he be near her anywhere, he wouldn't be able to hold back for long. Sooner or later he would give in to his need and knock on her door, hell- he'd knock down her door if necessary. But of course this wouldn't do! As he'd written in his letter, he would respect her decision, and this he could only accomplish from a distance.

The letter...last night, at Richard's house, he hadn't been able to sleep. He'd tried- hard- but all the things he should have told Elizabeth during their fight- where he hadn't been in the slightest coherent enough to do so- had been floating around in his head, not allowing him to come to rest. When he'd finally sat down to write, he hadn't had the intention to give the letter to her, he'd just wanted to get everything off his chest.

Sometime in the course of pouring out his heart, however, he'd decided to give it to her anyway; even though he knew that he was going strictly against her request not to be told anything she didn't remember herself. But in this case being considerate of her wishes was well beyond him. For how else was she to learn the truth? His truth- as opposed to Patricia's...And maybe he had been selfish, and even a little pathetic, but how could he have put up with his ex-fianc饧s lies and remain silent?

Suddenly fatigue and weariness seized his whole body and he leaned back his head and closed his eyes. Almost immediately his beloved's face appeared before him. God, it had been so hard to leave her behind! When he'd seen her this morning, he'd had to hold back fiercly not to clutch her to him, kiss and hug her, never let her go again...So after handing her the letter, he'd literally run away from her before tempation could get the better of him. He wondered, though, how she felt about him now- after reading the letter. Did she believe him? Did she trust in his honesty- his love? Or did she still doubt him? The questions tumbled through his head, gradually dimming, until they faded away and he dozed off.

~ * ~

With burning eyes and a throbbing head, Elizabeth sat up again after what seemed to have been an eternity. She had no more tears to cry, felt exhausted and utterly parched- she needed water, badly. Licking her dry lips, she stood and slowly stretched her stiff limbs- and became aware that she was still holding on tightly to William's letter.

With a muted exclamation of despair she noticed that she'd crumpled the paper with her firm grip. Horrified she dropped to her knees to flatten it against the plain surface of the coffee table. When she managed to straighten out the worst crinkles, she sighed in relief and neatly folded the precious sheets. They were her only connection to William, and she meant to cherish them like a treasure.

Getting back to her feet, she tucked them away securely in the pocket of her skirt and went to the bathroom. After washing her face and quickly downing two glasses of water- and taking a third one with her- she went upstairs to her room and locked the door.

Comfortably propped up against her pillows, she took William's letter out again and started to reread it faithfully. She had to admit that it all made perfect sense; what he wrote about her, the words he quoted, sounded so much like her. Could there be the slightest doubt left that he was telling the truth? No, her heart and soul shouted in unison.

She tilted her head sideways, conceding that on an emotional level she was more than ready to believe William's story. Emotions were fickle things, though; they tended to change direction, or vanish into thin air, and turn up again when at least expected. Rationality was in order here- she had to find rational reasons to trust in him.

She took a shuddering breath when she suddenly realised what was at stake for her- her past as well as her future. Should she decide in William's favour, it meant to accept that her former life with Tom, her marriage, had been nothing but an illusion. An unbearable notion; yet, she had said so herself, hadn't she? And all those other things that had floated up in her head, seemingly coming from nowhere, only supported William's story. Anyway, the most pressing question was: could she live with the knowledge of having been deceived so cleverly, overcome it in time and have a happy life with the man she loved?

On the other hand, believing in Patricia's version of the truth meant that there would be no future with William...Just the thought of living without him made her heart ache and her whole body go cold again. No way, everything inside her screamed- and this time she listened.

Hang Patricia! Hang rationality! And hang her memory! So he'd lied- woohoo, big deal! People all over the world lied every day without a good reason! And he'd had a very good reason- the best of all, in her opinion! She should see it as evidence of his love, as a proof of her power over him- and she would!

Silently vowing never to mistrust him again, she scrambled off the bed and eagerly reached for her door to run down and call him immediately. She stopped mid-stride, when it occurred to her that William was gone- he'd left the country. Turning around slowly, she went back to the bed and sat down on the edge.

He'd said to Jane and Charles that he needed distance to come to terms with everything. What could that mean? Did it mean that he was going away to forget her? Had she discouraged him so utterly with her rejection that he didn't see any chance for a future with her? But it hadn't been a final rejection, had it? And what he'd written in his letter disagreed with this possibility, too. There had to be another reason, she just couldn't think of. -Maybe he wanted to give her time to make up her mind- to come to a decision. If so, how long did he think it would take her? When would he be back?

She sighed deeply and picked up his letter to place a kiss where he'd signed it. "Please, don't make it too long..." she whispered and pressed the sheets to her heart.

~ * ~

Richard was worried- a fact that highly irritated him. Given his carefree- at times even flippant- nature, he hated problems of any kind and avoided them like the plague. Yet, he was a good listener, if anyone chose to confide in him, and he would even give the occasional advice- and then forget about it. In no way was he inclined to make someone else's problem his own, or so he'd thought.

Much to his own surprise, he seemed to have undergone a significant change of attitude while silently watching his cousin's life go from pretty good to bad and then to worse. For the longest time he'd refrained from interfering, mostly because of his habit to save himself any trouble, but also due to his conviction that William wouldn't have welcomed any intrusion into his life. On the day of his uncle's funeral, however, he couldn't help noticing his cousin's sudden interest in Elizabeth Baxter-Harding, and curiosity had gotten the better of him- which had led to the really strange, but nonetheless rather enlightening, conversation they'd had at Pemberley. Despite the gravity of the situation, remembering William's befuddlement still made him chuckle.

He sobered quickly, though, as his thoughts ran ahead. Granted, he hadn't taken his cousin's infatuation with Elizabeth too seriously in the beginning, but since she'd obviously returned his feelings, Richard's hopes had risen that she might be the one to help the poor man out of his misery. Until it had dawned on him that William must have concealed the events of the past from her. He'd then feared that there were problems to come, but by no means had he expected them to take on such dimensions.

As much as it was William's fault that things had gotten so out of hand, the bigger part of the blame was to be laid on Patricia. Without her interference there would have been a better chance- if not the best- for William to rectify the situation. Just thinking about the influence Patricia still had on his cousin's life annoyed Richard beyond reason. Picturing her sitting somewhere and rubbing her hands in satisfaction about what she'd accomplished, was almost more than he could bear. The mental image of his hands, however, tightly curled around her throat, filled him with a strange sense of relief.

Shaking his head to clear his senses, he brought his thoughts back on track. William's reaction to the whole mess had been an explicit sign of how deeply he was affected- deeper than ever before, Richard assumed. It was very unlike his cousin not to fight injustice, or try to right a wrong that had been done, even more so if he was the one concerned. But for now it couldn't be helped- instead of confronting Patricia, William had obviously chosen a very different course of action and then gone through with it.

But something had to be done, and since there was no one else left, Richard felt that he was the one to undertake the task of calling Patricia to account for her actions. It just wouldn't do to let her get away unharmed after she'd wreaked such havoc. To confront her, though, he needed proof of her interference otherwise she would deny everything- that he knew beyond a doubt. And the only one who could evidence her actions was that mysterious whistle-blower. Finding him- or her, for that matter- was nearly impossible, since it could be just about anyone.

Well, maybe not just about anyone; it had to be someone Patricia trusted implicitly, either because it was a close friend, or because she'd paid enough to ensure loyalty. Regardless of which, it had to be someone who could follow a person around without being noticed- not an easy task without experience in this area. That again indicated quite clearly that she'd hired a professional detective. And moreover, he couldn't remember ever having heard about a friend of Patricia's...

Realising that, in all likelihood, he would need help to identify the culprit, Richard sighed and strolled over to the bar to help himself to a generous amount of brandy. He dropped into a chair nearby and took a sip. Momentarily closing his eyes, he allowed himself to focus on the fine flavour of the heady beverage as he swallowed slowly- and almost chocked when a sudden idea hit his mind.

Half coughing, half laughing he shook his head, amazed that he hadn't thought of her earlier. The feisty, old frump- all meant in good fun- would be the best ally he could wish for!

Chapter 13 - Part 2

Clad in nothing but pyjama pants Charles was laying on the bed, ankles crossed, hands entwined behind his head, watching his wife as she paced their bedroom.

"This is insufferable," she stated angrily. "How could he do that?"

Knowing that she didn't really expect him to answer, Charles remained silent.

"Running away doesn't solve his problem! -It's...it's an immature reaction! And then he doesn't even bother to tell anyone where he's going to!"

"Now Janie, sweetheart, calm down," Charles tried to soothe her, while he got to his knees and reached for her hand. "You know Will as well as I do. He doesn't do anything inconsiderately. I'm sure he has very good reasons for his decision."

Jane let him pull her to the bed and sat down facing him. "But Charles, he wrote her a letter and without waiting for an answer, left her. What is she to think of him?"

"Did she complain about his behaviour?" he asked carefully, still holding on to his wife's hand.

"No, she didn't," Jane had to admit. "I...I actually had the feeling that she even understood him. Yet, she seemed to be very depressed- not that she owned up to it, though, but I know her well enough to sense it."

"There, you see? She didn't complain. Doesn't that suggest that she knows his reasons? Agrees with them?" Gently he took Jane into his arms and kissed her forehead. "And that she's sad... well, wouldn't you be if I left you?" He asked, looking down at her with a tender smile.

Jane smiled back and burrowed her nose into his naked chest. "Don't you dare..." she mumbled.

Squeezing her tightly in response, Charles went on. "I know you're worried about Lizzy, and you want to help- as much as I want to. But, honestly, I don't think that there's anything we can do right now, except maybe being there when they need us. Everything else is up to them."

He paused a moment before resuming his speech with furrowed brows. "On the other hand..."

Jane looked up at him expectantly. "Do you think it would help if we had Caroline beheaded?"

After a second of baffled silence, she broke out in laughter, and Charles joined her. "And while we're at it, why not have Patricia join her fate?" Jane chimed in.

Slowly Charles' laughter faded and his bright expression turned to one of thoughtfulness. Feeling his change of mood, Jane pushed away from him to look into his face. "What is it?" she asked.

He dropped his gaze before answering with a question of his own. "I wonder if...Caroline knew what she was doing..."

"No!" Jane replied impulsively, cupping her husband's cheek with her hand, forcing him to look at her again. "No, not in this case." She shook her head for emphasis, while trying to find the right words to reassure him. "You see, normally I wouldn't put anything like that past her. But where William is concerned...I don't think, she would ever hurt him on purpose."

"And Lizzy?"

"Well, that is something else entirely," Jane said with a dry laugh. "Yet- this whole mess is all Patricia's doing. She just used Caroline."

Finally convinced, Charles took a deep breath and nodded. "I guess, you're right." He pulled her back to his chest and kissed the top of her head. "I'd be lost without you, darling," he whispered into her hair, breathing deeply as his desire for her stirred.

Jane nestled closer and pressed a kiss to his warm skin, but Charles sensed her distraction. He closed his eyes and kept quiet, giving her time to sort out her thoughts. After a while she took a deep breath and finally spoke her mind. "We should do something about Patricia."

Charles was so preoccupied with the sensations his wife's nearness created that it took him a few seconds to grasp her meaning. All longing suddenly forgotten, his eyes popped open in surprise. "What are you talking about?" he asked warily, hoping against hope that he'd misunderstood her.

Easing away from him, Jane sat up straight and lunged into speech. "We have to find a way to get back at her. She deserves to be punished for what she's done!"

"But Jane, that's none of our business! That's William's problem," Charles tried to persuade her while an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.

Jane, however, was not to be distracted; quite the contrary, the more she thought about it, the more she warmed up to the idea. "Well, obviously we can't count on William here, can we? And she hurt my sister, too- badly. So I consider it my business as well. Now," her eyes shining, she fidgeted with excitement, "how can we get a hold of her? Any ideas?"

Despite his dismay, Charles had to smile at her enthusiasm. "Come here, sweetheart," he murmured and pulled her to him, her closeness once again igniting his desire. This time his strategy worked; with a content sigh Jane looped her arms around him and put her head on his shoulder. Charles' voice was a low rumble. "Forget Patricia. I want you- now."

Lowering his head, he found Jane's lips for a deep, hot kiss. And within moments Patricia was indeed completely forgotten.

When Robert Bennet returned home that evening, he found his daughter already sound asleep. After what Jane had told him earlier, he'd been very worried about Elizabeth- once again. In an irrational fit of pique, he'd quarreled with fate, asking himself- not for the first time- why she had to endure all these blows; why he couldn't change places with her to take the hurt in her stead; why he couldn't protect her better, as he felt was his duty; why she couldn't find the happiness she so deserved...

Seeing her sleeping peacefully, however, somehow alleviated his pent-up anguish, and filled his heart with warmth and tenderness. Unable to resist, he gently rearranged the blanket around her to tuck her in more safely, like he hadn't done in so many years now. He hoped fervently she would have a good night's rest- without any bad dreams.

When he leaned close to place a kiss on her temple, he caught a glimpse of what seemed to be a piece of paper peeking out from underneath her pillow. With a knowing smile, he straightened again. If this was what he supposed it to be- then maybe there was a chance that everything would be well in the end. With one last look at his beloved daughter, he tiptoed out of the room and quietly closed the door.

A couple of hours later, Elizabeth stirred uneasily. Her eyes moved behind tightly closed lids, her heart rate increased and her breathing grew irregular; clear signs that her subconscious mind was starting to work.

There's a party going on. Looking around she realises that it's her father's birthday. There are Leah and Papa, Jane and Charles, her aunt and uncle from Manchester with their children, and many friends who've also come to celebrate with him. And over at a corner she sees Tom; he's standing very close to Patricia- almost as if he...

Uneasiness grips her as she watches them, and William Darcy's deep resolute voice echoes in her mind: 'I'm not the cheater here- he is! They both are!' She knows it's a lie, it has to be a lie! Yet, he'd spoken with so much conviction- and there hadn't been any inconsistencies in his story, no obvious nervousness on his part as he'd told his story; whereas Patricia...

She shakes her head in exasperation, trying to get rid of his words as well as her unpleasant feelings. For heaven's sake, they are cousins! She snorts derisively- just the thought of being intimate with one of her cousins makes her shudder.

"Damn you, William Darcy," she mutters under her breath, while turning around on her heels, resolved to think of his ridiculous accusations no more. When she looks up, however, she meets her father's watchful gaze, and for a split second her face falls in dismay. Admonishing herself, however, she musters all her dignity, and suppresses the sudden urge to run to him, let him cuddle her to him and comfort her. She forces up a reassuring- at least she hopes it is- smile while she tells herself: 'You're a grown, married woman, you can handle this, you have to handle this- Papa can't make it good, not this time.'

Papa returns a crooked smile that doesn't reach his eyes, showing clearly that he doesn't fall for her pretence. Out of pure stubbornness, the corners of her mouth remain curled upward, as she lifts her chin and turns back to her husband and his cousin to walk over to them with determined strides.

They are so lost in their private conversation that she has to clear her throat a few times- getting louder with each attempt- before they notice her presence. Two pairs of eyes stare at her in mild irritation, making her feel like a child who had intruded upon an adults' discussion. And Tom's chiding tone of voice as he addresses her, only boosts the annoyance she already tries to cope with.

"What is it, Liz? -Can't you see you're disturbing us?"

Only her aversion to have a domestic quarrel in front of other people helps her keep her temper in check. With a sweet smile, she gently puts a hand on her husband's arm- even though at the moment she feels more like smacking him- and keeps her voice low as she answers: "I'd like to talk to you for a minute," and with a telltale look at Patricia, "alone."

Heaving a sigh, he complies and slightly bows into his cousin's direction. "Please excuse me, Patricia. I'll be back shortly."

For a second there she thinks, she has seen him roll his eyes while glancing at Patricia. But the impression has been so fleeting that she is not really sure, and anyway, Tom is already hauling her out of the room with a firm grip on her upper arm.

When they reach the hall, he swings her around so that she faces him. His eyebrows are drawn into a deep V, his expression one of anger, gone is his usual composure. And in a split second there her own anger dissolves, is replaced by uncertainty, as she suddenly realises how much he has changed within the last half year. It has happened gradually- ever since the day William broke his engagement to Patricia.

But could there really be a connection? Just the thought of it makes her insides lurch and her stomach turn upside down; she feels sick all of a sudden. What if William is right, after all? For the first time she allows herself to seriously contemplate this possibility. Has she been duped all along? Has she been blind to what has been going on around her?

She stares at Tom, observing absent-mindedly that his lips are moving; he is talking to her, but she can't hear him, doesn't want to hear him. Events from the past few months come back to her, appearing in a completely different light as they rush through her mind. Unwilling to remain in his presence just a moment longer, she turns away from him and heads for the stairs to go up to her former room.

But he follows her, grabs for her arm again to hold her back, and being so much stronger, he of course succeeds. She has no choice but to stay, to open her mind to his words.

"Just what is the matter with you, Liz? You are behaving like a petulant child!"

Anger streams back into her, rises until she sees red and whirls around to him. "Don't you dare accuse me of strange behaviour! If not for all these people watching, you would be all over your cousin, wouldn't you!"

He staggers backwards as if slapped right in the face, his features contorting into an expression of hurt and astonishment; his voice has dropped to a strained whisper. "Liz, for heaven's sake... what are you talking about?"

She panics momentarily, a wave of insecurity washing over her. 'What if I'm wrong?' she asks herself, 'what if it isn't true?' Her mouth opens, but no words come across her lips. What is she to say, anyway?

Tom seems to have recovered from his shock. His face is blank, his eyes are distant, making a chill run down her spine. And without second thought, she reaches out for him in an attempt to close the gap that has suddenly appeared between them. But he takes a step away from her to evade her touch, further rejecting her with just one syllable, "No", spoken in his lowest tone of voice.

With that he takes another step away, then turns his back to her and slowly walks down the hall. She's unable to move, as she stares after him helplessly. Desperation begins to rise inside her, forcing her eyes closed to contain the tears that threaten to spill over. 'What have I done?' is all she can think. 'Good heavens, what have I done?'

A shuddering breath escapes her, and with her next thought- 'Go after him!'- she comes into motion. Inhaling deeply to pacify her hammering heart, she follows him quickly, calling out for him in a quivering voice, not bothering in the least that the whole household can hear her: "Tom! Tom, wait for me! Please, Tom!"

Elizabeth's eyes popped open as she jerked awake. The desperate tone of her own voice still rang in her ears. Sitting up slowly, she shook her head to get rid of thoughts and feelings that were so unfamiliar to her, but then- they were not...

A tangle of emotions coursed through her as realisation dawned- memories, once again she'd come up with real memories, not mere figments of her imagination; she'd really been through this. Resolutely she pushed aside hurt, anger and whatever else she was feeling at the moment to deal with later. For now she wanted a clear mind to be able to dig deeper into what had for so long been a dark, bottomless whole.

Locking her arms tightly around her up drawn knees, she stared into the darkness, concentrating hard on that particular event. Did she remember where Tom had gone? And whether or not she'd found him? And what they'd been talking about?

Yes, yes, yes- she did! As if it had been there all the time...She clearly recalled her desperation about what she'd done, her fear of losing him, when she'd found him in his father's library. He'd been so cool, evasive, not willing to meet her eyes. She'd started to cry, had stumbled into an incoherent explanation that even to her own ears had sounded childish and ridiculous. In the end she'd begged his forgiveness, and he had graciously granted it.

In light of the information she'd acquired from William's letter, however, the entire scene brought a deep blush of utter mortification to her face. Since she'd decided once and for all to believe in the man she loved, she now asked herself if Tom had silently relished humiliating her, had inwardly laughed about her; or had he just been bored, or maybe even disgusted?

At the thought of such falsehood, a cold shiver ran through her body that took away the heat of shame and left her freezing all over. Had she really been married to such a...monster? Without recognising him for what he really was? Blissfully oblivious to his activities, blinded by love and admiration? Had it been like this from the beginning? According to what she'd been told, she'd been quite happy at first, content with her life. But when had it started to go awry? What had been the trigger- apart from William?

She attempted to go further into the past, but nothing came up. Evidently this single event was all she could remember so far, no matter how hard she tried. And surely it was for the best, she finally admitted, as she felt the exertion of the whole experience kicking in full force. With a sigh that stemmed from the bottom of her soul, she fell back onto the bed and closed her weary eyes. Not a moment later, all the repressed emotions surged to the surface like a tidal wave to tug at her heartstrings and constrict her throat.

In desperate need for comfort, she rolled to her side and grabbed for a pillow to press it to her chest, pretending it was William's body cuddled up close to hers. Only then did she give way to her tears that finally lulled her back into sleep.

~ * ~

William took a deep breath to fill his lungs with the cool morning air, hoping to ease the fatigue and drowsiness that seemed to have settled in his very core.

If the last 24 hours could be considered a foretaste of what he'd have to endure while being separated from Elizabeth, he seriously doubted the wisdom of his decision, and not for the first time, mind you!

In his head the same questions repeated themselves over and over again: Had his departure been too hasty? - Should he have waited for Elizabeth's reaction to his letter? - Should he have given them another chance to talk? In answer his heart screamed yes, yes, yes. But then common sense chimed in immediately: And what if your letter hasn't been enough to convince her? - What if she still doesn't believe you? - What if she would have rejected you for good?

He felt like he was caught in a roundabout, missing the right turnoff time and again. Though in this case he didn't even know the right turnoff. Regarded rationally, taking flight from temptation had been the most reasonable thing to do- despite Richard's ill-founded statement to the contrary- yet, emotionally he ached with longing for the woman he loved. So where was he to go from here? What was he to do next?

However, it didn't really matter where he would go to, or what he planned to do, because in truth he was completely at Elizabeth's mercy; his fate- their fate- was in her hands and wherever she would choose to lead, he would follow. There wasn't really much more he could do but wait, and try to stay sane.

Passing a hand through his sleep-tousled hair, he took another deep breath, finally realising that he was not only tired still, but by now cold as well. As if to confirm his observation, a shiver ran through his body, causing him to quickly retreat back into the living room and close the door to the balcony behind him.

For a few minutes he stood rooted to the spot, considering how to spend the day that lay ahead . Yesterday, after arriving at his hideout, he'd thrown himself into all kinds of strenuous activities in an attempt to keep his rioting thoughts at bay. Granted, it hadn't helped as much as he'd hoped it would, but it was still better than sitting around doing nothing at all. Having made up his mind, he swiftly walked to his bedroom to change into shorts and shirt. And if he doubled his efforts, maybe then the exhaustion would be enough to allow him a whole night of sleep.

Chapter 14

Arms spread wide, Richard went into Lady deBourgh's office, a huge grin on his face. "Cat, hey! How's my favourite aunt in the world?" By then he'd walked around her desk and leaned down to kiss her wrinkled cheek.

She cast a wary glance at him, yet she tilted her head to give him better access. "I'm your only aunt in the world, scoundrel! -And I'm fine, thank you."

"Great, that's good to hear," he cheered, stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets and casually leaned against the edge of her desk. "So- any news?"

Cocking an eyebrow, Lady deBourgh pushed back her chair to observe her smirking nephew carefully. Neither spoke a word, until she stated outright: "Stop beating around the bush, Rick. You never come here without good reason."

Richard's smile faded, the tone of his voice matching hers as he replied: "Very well then, tell me what you know about Patricia McKinley."

If he'd hoped to shock his aunt, Richard was badly disappointed. Instead of showing any signs of alarm, Lady Catherine chuckled quietly. "I was actually wondering, who would be the first to ask. I've to confess, though, that I'd put my money on William...but he took himself out of the game, as it seems."

"You already know he's gone?" Richard asked, unable to hide his surprise.

Lady Catherine reached out and patted her nephew's cheek, her voice as gentle as if she were talking to a slow-witted child. "Oh my dear, you assume I can provide information about a virtual stranger, and at the same time you think I don't know what the members of my own family are up to?"

Richard rolled his eyes and grinned. "Sorry- seems I always underestimate you, Cat."

"Oh no, that's not it," she stated matter-of-factly, then went on while poking his chest with an arthritic forefinger, "You're a man, Ricky."

At his puzzled look, she heaved an impatient sigh. "Men tend to be illogical," she pointed out as if it were as plain as day. "Just like your dear uncle Hugh- may he rest in peace. Such a good soul he was, very proficient too, but highly illogical..." Suddenly she turned away from him and cleared her throat. Discretly wiping her moist eyes, she straightened her back and faced him again. "Well, no sense dwelling on the past- back to business. -Why do you need information about Miss McKinley?"

Mouth agape Richard had watched his aunt's swift changes of mood in fascination and didn't immediately realise that she posed a question- until she softly called his name. Blinking rapidly a few times, he clamped his jaws shut and focused on her face. "What?"

"Miss McKinley- why are you interested in her?"

"Ah yes," he straightened and strolled to the front of the desk to drop into the comfortable chair across from Lady Catherine. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, still surprised about his own decision. "Well, I feel that something has to be done. As you pointed out, Will's gone- so the responsibility is mine now. I'm not willing to let her get away with what she's done."

A pair of carefully plucked eyebrows shot up in utter amazement, as Lady Catherine gazed at her nephew. When Richard noticed her mien, he shrugged and forstalled a possible comment with a slight wave of his hand. "I know, I know- how very unlike me...but I can't help it- it makes me crazy to see Will suffer because of her- once again."

Too agitated to remain seated any longer, he jumped up and paced his aunt's office. Lady Catherine watched him in silence before she asked quietly: "You think he suffered because of her?"

Richard stopped and turned to her, brows furrowed in question. "He told me as much...He found them together- in his bedroom, Patricia and Thomas Baxter-Harding."

"And he told you that this was what hurt him- made him suffer?"

He thought for a moment, trying to recall William's exact words- he drew a blank. "Well," he finally admitted, "actually...no..."

A knowing smile bloomed on Lady Catherine's withered lips, making her look very much like an impish goblin. "Hurt pride, Rick, that's what it was...Mr Baxter-Harding was older than he, had less money and his looks- though not unpleasant on the whole- a far cry from Will's decidedly handsome features. So how could she prefer such a man to him?- That's what bothered him, as much as it would have bothered any man. I don't believe for a second that it was jealousy, that his feelings were hurt- other than from being deceived, of course."

Richard had returned to his chair, attentively listening to his aunt's speech. Now he sat perched on the edge of the seat, eager to ask the question that burned on the tip of his tongue. "What then? If he dismissed Patricia- and his hurt pride- so easily, what else made him suffer- who made him suffer?"

Lady Catherine's dark irises suddenly shimmered like black marbles- hard and cold. "Many different things," she stated evenly, and started to itemise, "Andrew's heartattack, Georgie's-"

"I know that!" Richard interrupted harshly. "But what was the last straw?" he insisted, his green eyes narrowing in suspicion.

The old lady lifted her chin defiantly, refusing to give the answer she knew he wouldn't like. But Richard was not to be deterred. He had more questions, though they sounded more like the facts he presumed them to be. "You knew about Lizzy and Will's love affair from the beginning." Her gaze didn't waver, but she kept quiet.

"You knew what Patricia was up to from the day she returned."

She pressed her lips together more tightly.

"Yet you did nothing to stop her."

Richard leaned closer to her, feeling her warm breath on his face as she looked up at him.

"Who made him suffer, Cat? Tell me!"

"Elizabeth Baxter-Harding!" she finally spat out, not flinching from the rage she found in his eyes, but meeting it with her own.

A thudding sound echoed loudly through the suddenly silent office as he slammed his palms flat on the desk and snarled: "Bullshit!"

Through the red mist of his anger, he noticed with grim satisfaction that the impact of his hands stirred up not only the papers and writing utensils on the table-top, but his seemingly impassive aunt, too; she gave herself away with a perceptible wince. Wanting to use this unexpected sign of weakness for his advantage, he confronted her further: "Why did you do it? To pay her back?"

Lady Catherine, however, swift as she was known to be, had already regained her equilibrium, and faced her nephew squarely. "She doesn't deserve him," was her firm response.

Richard jerked upright, passing his hands through his hair to keep them occupied, lest he attack her physically to wipe the prim conviction off of her face. Struggling for control, he turned around and walked the length of the office to the large windows on the far wall.

Long seconds ticked by while he stared outside, until he took a deep breath. "You have no idea, Cat- no idea whatsoever..." he stated quietly and faced her again to watch her in contemplation for a few moments. "No," he finally said, folding his arms across his chest, "I take that back- you are well aware that you are wrong, aren't you?"

Lady Catherine shifted uncomfortably, but still refused to give in. "She didn't believe him," she insisted stubbornly. "He's well-known for his honesty, yet she didn't believe him."

"She was Tom's wife, and Will was little more than a stranger to her," Richard retorted, and- well aware that he was going to fight dirty- went on relentlessly. "What if someone you hardly knew would have come to your house to tell you that uncle Hugh was cheating on you-"

Eyes widening in surprise, Lady Catherine sat up straight. "That's ridiculous! And in no way comparable-"

Her nephew's smug smile made her avert her eyes and bite back the rest of her comment. "Isn't it?" he asked softly. A sense of pity rushed through him, as he looked at his aunt's bowed head. Slowly walking back to the chair he'd sat on earlier, he gentled his voice even more. "You're not the only one who knows what's going on in this family, Cat." Instead of sitting down, however he remained standing, leaning against the tall backrest. "But I surely don't want to stir up the past, I just want you to show a little understanding..."

Lady Catherine looked up again, her expression an odd mixture of haughtiness, vulnerability and gratitude. "I had to protect him, Rick- she simply isn't good enough for him," she tried to reason with him.

Despite the anger that still simmered just beneath the surface, Richard couldn't suppress a smile about his aunt's obstinacy. "Oh Cat, you're such a tough, old bird."

"Thank you, I'll take that as a compliment," Lady Catherine smiled back at him and lowered her head in a graceful bow.

Finally Richard sat down again, his face serious. "Now, all jokes aside, Cat- I'm fed up with all that scheming and lying. Let's set the record straight, once and for all."

Though obviously reluctant to own up to it, Lady Catherine knew when she was defeated. With another slight bow she allowed her nephew's claim.

"I guess we can safely say that in the past neither Patricia nor Elizabeth really hurt him..."

Richard paused shortly to give his aunt a chance to show her agreement. Satisfied to see her nod, he went on: "And we both know the events that led to his...crises- you already mentioned two of them. None of these events, however, is directly connected with either of the two ladies."

"Correct," Lady Catherine rasped and lapsed back into silence.

Nodding contently, Richard crossed his legs and relaxed into his chair. "Now Cat, if you don't mind, I would like to ask you a few questions- and I count on your honesty."

The old lady's eyes shot daggers at her nephew, but once again he wouldn't relent. "Ask away," she finally conceded.

"Thank you- I assume you knew that Patricia was cheating on Will. Why didn't you warn him?"

"I didn't think it was necessary," she grated through clenched teeth.

His aunt's surliness elicited another laugh from Richard. "Oh come on, Cat. There's no escaping this conversation. Why don't you relax and enjoy it?"

"I hate to be forced, Rick- you know that."

"I do- I'm sorry, but it can't be helped. I need your assistance and I'd do pretty much everything to get it."

Lady Catherine smiled despite herself and shook her head. "You have indeed an unusual way to recruit allies," she stated dryly. Finally leaning back in her chair, she put her hands on the armsrests and gave him an encouraging nod. "Alright, go ahead. I'll try my best to be more cooperative."

But when Richard opened his mouth to ask the next question, she stopped him abruptly. "No, I guess I'd better tell you everything I know, and when I'm finished it's your turn." She took a deep breath and started her narrative: "Right from the beginning I didn't trust Miss McKinley, though I couldn't say why. Anyway, I made enquiries about her, had one of my employees dig into her past and follow her. And he made some interesting discoveries- rather unpleasant- yet very interesting. It appeared that everytime Miss McKinley and Mr Baxter-Harding met, they ended up having an affair-"

"Notorious cheaters, eh?"

Lady Catherine shook her head. "No, not really. To my knowledge Baxter-Harding never had any affairs, but with her; the same was true for her, no one else but him- except for her official boy-friends of course."

Curling downward the corners of his mouth, Richard made a sound of disgust. "You mean to say that William and Elizabeth were not the first ones they betrayed?"

"Exactly- their story went a long way back. It had all started when Miss McKinley was about 16, and Baxter-Harding about 22 years old. Taking into consideration that she was 25 when she met William-"

"Almost 10 years?" Richard exclaimed in disbelief. When his aunt nodded, he went on: "What about their family- families? She was so young- and they were cousins! Didn't their parents do anything about it?"

"Oh they did, for sure- but to no avail. When they found out what was going on, she was sent to a boarding school to Switzerland, and he was removed to the States to further his studies. But she ran away, sought him out- and they managed to stay together for a few weeks. In the end, however, she was found and brought back. What followed, I can only presume; I suppose they were both threatened with disinheritance or something along that line because they behaved themselves for quite a while."

"What is 'quite a while'?"

"Until she'd finished school. Two or three years later they both returned to England. She started University, worked part-time, had a boy-friend; and he began a job in his father's company, had a nice girl-friend- but it was all-"

"Bogus!"

Lady Catherine bent forward in her chair, staring at her nephew in annoyance. "Stop putting words into my mouth, Rick! I don't need a prompter!"

For a moment Richard had the dignity to look contrite and muttered. "I'm sorry..." Contrition, however, never had had much of a chance with him. The next second he was on his feet, his hands curled into fists, and leapt into an agitated harangue. "It's just that I'm...disgusted- and disappointed," once again leaning across the table, he gazed at his aunt accusingly. "You knew all along what was going on; yet you didn't do anything to prevent it! Why didn't you tell William?"

"Do you honestly think he would have believed me?" Lady Catherine asked softly, trying to steal her nephew's thunder. But this time Richard didn't back down. "Yes, I do!" he snapped angrily, bringing his face even closer to hers. "Because I'm sure you can prove your knowledge, can't you?"

"Of course I can," she stated proudly, lifting her chin so their noses almost touched. "I would never claim this to be the truth without being able to give sufficient proof."

Richard straightened his back and stuffed his hands into his pockets. The sudden smile that brightened his face belied the anger he still tried to get a grip on. "You know exactly that Will would have believed you- but you had your own motives not to tell him, hadn't you?"

"I don't have the slightest idea what you are talking about!" she thrust out defensively.

"Really? I sincerely doubt that, Cat." In his mind, Richard imagined drawing the bow, and let go of the arrow. "It's about Annie, right?"

And it hit the mark- making Lady Catherine flinch and drop her eyes to her lap. Richard slowly shook his head, overcome by a mixture of renewed anger, wondrousness and even a hint of amusement about his aunt's stubbornness. Finally he sighed deeply. "Oh Cat- when will you give up at last? There's no sense in trying to change Annie. Don't you realise that you risked William's happiness for nothing..."

"My daughter is not nothing!" Lady Catherine huffed in a raised voice.

Silently praying for patience, Richard rolled his eyes heavenward. "You know what I mean! She's not interested in men- never will be, she's a les-"

"Don't you dare use that word in my presence!" she shouted, and used the armrests of her chair to push herself up swiftly. "I will not accept this- ever." She held herself very straight, spine rigid, shoulders drawn back, but her eyes were moist again and her lips quivered. Richard couldn't help himself at the sight of her as she tried to be tough, yet couldn't hide her distress. Quickly he rounded the desk and without a word put his arms around her. At first she fought his tenderness, stiffening even more, but finally she melted against his chest and, with a small hickup, buried her nose in the folds of his shirt. Taking a steadying breath, she grated: "I'll be after you for the rest of my life if you tell anyone about this!"

Richard laughed out loud and hugged her tightly. "Your secret is safe with me, Cat! I won't give away that our Iron Lady is a wimp at heart!"

Her head snapped up, dangerously narrowed eyes in conflict with a barely concealed smile that played on her lips. "You watch your mouth, young man!"

With a smirk, Richard squared his shoulder and klicked his heels. "Yes Ma'am!"

"Now," energetically she pushed away from him and took his arm to pull him over to a luxurious lounge in the upper right corner of her office. With a sigh she sat down and indicated for him to take a seat next to her. After he'd done so, she dropped her gaze to her entwinded hands and cleared her throat. "I know that I'm a little tetchy where Anne is concerned, but I just can't help it. I had such high hopes for her. I always imagined her being happily married, having children... preferably with William. They would make a great match."

"I don't think so, Cat," Richard interjected quietly.

"Well, why ever not? They are not related by blood, she was Hugh's daughter, not mine! Apart from her..." she struggled briefly to find the right word, "...disposition, what other reason could there be for them not to be together?"

"Love, Cat- true, deep, passionate love. Not to say that William doesn't love her, he does- like I do. But it's brotherly love, love among cousins- related by blood or not."

Lady Catherine heaved a deep sigh. "So you really think it's time to give up on the idea?"

"I do, Cat- leave her be, leave them be. Accept her the way she is. I know you love her as if she were your own child- but you need to show it. Being les..." he cut himself off, casting a wary glance at her, then continued bravely, "...lesbian isn't a blemish. She's a witty, warmhearted woman- no matter her sexual inclination."

The old lady nodded thoughtfully. "I guess you are right, Rick. I will try to better myself...but what about William- and Mrs Baxter-Harding? What is to be done?"

"We'll deal with that later. Tell me now how on earth you managed to gather all that information. I mean, it's no secret that you're always well-informed about family matters- and those who are brave enough to venture anywhere near us; after all, that's why I came here today. But you even seem to know what is going on behind closed doors! How do you do that?"

For a moment she looked at him as if he were dimwitted. "Bill Collins- of course!"

"The toad? You mean to tell me that he obtained all the information?"

"He did."

"How does he do that?"

"I don't have the slightest idea," Lady Catherine shrugged. "But he has that incredible talent to sneak up to people and entice them into talking. He's one of the most ridiculous persons I've ever met- but in his case that seems to be more advantageous than not."

"So you assigned him to Patricia when she got engaged to William?"

"Yes- and he did a great job. He came up with information I would never have dreamed of ever getting my hands on." To Richard's surprise, she suddenly started to giggle. "I always picture him as an overweight, sweating fly on the wall, struggling to stay in place while straining to hear every word that is spoken."

Richard couldn't help but join her mirth with a low chuckle. She winked and elbowed him rather vehemently. "Know what I mean?"

"I do, I do!" He smiled at her and casually moved a few inches away to protect his ribs from her pointed anconal. Into her fading laughter, he asked: "So why didn't you tell William what you'd found out?"

Abruptly she was serious again. "As I said before, I didn't think it was necessary. I supposed that sooner or later the whole affair would leak out- and it did. And he could see for himself what kind of woman she really was."

Richard came up with the most apparent question. "But what would you've done if they'd managed to keep it a secret- what if it hadn't leaked out in time? Would you have let her marry William?"

"Never!" the old lady sputtered, sitting up straight. "I would have done everything in my power to impede that marriage! To have my nephew's life ruined- to see her as mistress of Pemberley..." Though he knew her agitation to be genuine, Richard had a hard time suppressing a smile. He scooted closer again and touched her arm with a becalming hand. "Alright, Cat, it's alright. Will's out of danger now- and so is Pemberley."

"I know- but just the thought of it..." shivering with indignation, she left the sentence unfinished. They sat in silence for a few moments, both pondering what could have happened- both glad that in the end it had not happened.

Somehow Lady Catherine's last remark sounded like the punch line of their conversation, but Richard wasn't done yet. She seemed to feel it too, because she looked at him expectantly even before he started to speak again. Encouraged by the question in her eyes, he finally remarked with a thoughtful frown. "You did nothing at all to spare him- that was pretty hard..."

Lady Catherine gave a dismissive shrug. "So what? Life is hard- it's a bold venture that's rarely easy; and really, Rick, what could I've done to spare him?"

"Well...I don't know..." he replied helplessly.

"See- in the end, telling him what I knew would have had the same effect as had his finding them out. To be honest, I tend to think it was even better the way it happened, because it left no room for doubt at all; which he may have had with only my revelations."

Shaking his head slowly, Richard heaved a sigh. "You're right, Cat...I can see that now," he reached over to pad the back of her hand lightly, "and I'm sorry for being so cross with you earlier. But I-"

"It's alright, Rick," she interrupted and turned her hand around to give his fingers an affectionate squeeze. "No need to apologise. I understand your anger; it was justified because..." unused to warrant her actions, she faltered just a little before rushing forward hastily, "-I was wrong. That's what I see now. I never should have interfered. And...I'm sorry, too."

Even though her head was bowed, he could see a slight blush tinging her cheeks. An up to now unknown fondness for his aunt suddenly made his heart swell, while at the same time a sense of regret rose inside him. It came with the realisation that he'd never once tried to look behind her facade. All those years he'd taken her for what she obviously was- what she probably wanted to be taken for- the Iron Lady, strong, capable, reliable and down-to-earth. Yet, there seemed to be so much more to her- endearing personal qualities she'd managed to hide behind a rough shell; somewhat puzzled, he wondered why...

Lady Catherine finally looked up to find her nephew staring at her pensively. Misinterpreting his reflectiveness, she tightened her hold on his hand and asked quietly: "Do you really think Will's happiness is ruined...forever?"

Quickly shaking off his thoughts, Richard hurried to reassure her. "No Cat, I don't think so- well, at least I hope they will make it..." he furrowed his brow, thoughtful again. "I've rarely seen two people so smitten with each other-"

"Oh please, Rick," she cut him off uneasily, "no need to rub it in- I feel bad enough already."

He laughed and put an arm around her shoulders to draw her closer to him. "I'm afraid there's nothing I can do to spare you, auntie," he stated smugly, which earned him a withering glance from her dark eyes and a muttered: "Insolent rascal."

Richard snickered quietly, but choose not to respond to her remark. Instead, he turned back to the reason for his visit. "I have more questions, Cat. -Are you ready to answer?"

Acknowledging the end of their good natured banter, she moved away from him an arm's length and nodded in agreement.

"How did you in fact know Patricia had returned?"

"Stupidity on her part- good luck on mine," she replied with a lopsided shrug. Raising an eyebrow in wonder, Richard wordlessly inviting her to go on.

"She actually checked in at the Rosings- of all the hotels in London! So I presume she's just too stupid to make that easy connection to the family. Then, luckily, Collins spotted her and came running to me- all hysterical and sweaty," she chuckled at the memory. But when she met her nephew's serious gaze, she repressed her mirth and went on: "I was very curious what she was up to and again instructed him to follow her. He did a great job- managed to gain her confidence, and soon she hired him to follow William- imagine my surprise!"

"He was after William?" Richard asked incredulously. "For how long?"

Lady Catherine hesitated distinctly, clearly ill at ease.

"Cat?" he prompted her quietly.

Her reluctance was palpable as she grated through clenched teeth: "A few weeks..."

"What?!" Richard exclaimed in utter disbelief, automatically reaching for his aunt's wrist. "You allowed Collins to violate Will's privacy for weeks?"

She shook her arm, trying to get away from his ungentle grip, her voice petulant. "It was not in my power-"

Richard leaned toward her until their noses almost touched. "Crap!" Then he suddenly released her and stood up, passing a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Of course it was in your power! -You could have stopped her right away!"

"But I had to know-" she began angrily, only to be interrupted before she could draw another breath.

"And once you knew, you still didn't stop her! You should hope and pray that William will never find out about it!"

Lady Catherine's haughtiness instantly vanished. Conceding defeat, she bowed her head and hunched her shoulders. "I would highly appreciate it if...this could be...kept private," she asked him in an unsteady voice. Heaving a deep-drawn sigh, Richard knelt in front of his aunt to look into her moist eyes. "I can't make any such promise, Cat. Once William returns, he might want to find out for himself what has happened. You realise that you'll have to tell him then, don't you?"

She nodded in acceptance, holding on to Richard's gaze. "Do you think he'll understand that I meant only well?"

"Eventually he will- provided that Elizabeth and he will get together again. Otherwise..." he gave a helpless shrug and stood up to reclaim his place by her side.

"Otherwise," she picked up his unfinished sentence, "...he will never forgive me." Again silence ensued, until Lady Catherine sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I've been blinded by my anger about...Elizabeth; uncalled-for as it might have been. I'd really thought she'd hurt him...When I watched them at Andrew's funeral, I was totally taken aback."

"What happened at the funeral?" Richard asked, obviously at a complete loss.

She turned to him, eyes wide with astonishment. "You mean, you didn't see it? -Their reactions to each other, the tangible attraction between them..."

Richard just shook his head, still not quite sure what his aunt was talking about.

"Well, never mind," she finally dismissed him with a flick of her wrist. "I noticed immediately what was going on, and I didn't understand it. -Until it occurred to me that she suffered from amnesia; she couldn't remember the past events-"

"And when it was finally clear what Patricia was up to, you didn't stop her," Richard broke in on her monologue. "Her plan to separate them just came in handy for you...the easiest way to get rid of Elizabeth without much ado. But you couldn't have foreseen William's reaction..."

"Indeed, I couldn't," Lady Catherine agreed in a brittle voice and rose from the lounge. Turning away from her nephew, she went back to her desk, "because I was not aware of the strength of his feelings for...Elizabeth- the seriousness of the whole...affair." Still facing away from Richard, she swallowed hard and took a shaky breath. "I should never have interfered..."

After watching her silent struggle for a few seconds, he finally decided that she'd gained enough self-knowledge for one day, and also rose from his place to walk over to her. Gently he put his hands onto her narrow shoulders and turned her around. Her ragged expression and the tears that glistened in her eyes tore at his heart. "Oh Cat, you didn't really interfere- you just gave free rein to the...more or less- natural course of events-"

"Stop trying to comfort me, Rick," she admonished briskly, the usual resoluteness partly back. "I don't deserve it!"

"But not everything's lost yet. I'm sure Elizabeth and William will eventually make it- they are too much in love not to make it."

Lady Catherine looked up at him, searching his gaze for the conviction his voice conveyed- and she actually found it. Instantly her whole posture changed from dismay to determination. "Alright," she stated, deftly shaking off Richard's hands and walking around her desk to sit in her huge chair. He watched her with a slight smile, sending a quiet prayer heavenward that the Iron Lady was obviously back.

"Rick," she addressed him impatiently and motioned for him to take a seat. "Sit down. We have to make plans about Miss McKinley- now!"

"Yes, Ma'am," he teased and complied with her demand, already looking forward to her ideas of exerting revenge.

The Lost Year

Chapter 15 - Part 1

Elizabeth woke up gradually, her mind slowly drifting back and forth between consciousness and subconsciousness. Due to her bad dreams she was used to jerking awake more often than not, and she hated it with all her heart. So everytime the opportunity arose, she savoured those precious moments of being comfortably suspended between sleep and waking.

This morning, however, the comfort didn't last for long as the events of the past 24 hours came back to her in a blinding rush- William's letter, his departure, her dream. Her dream- the sudden recollection hit her hard, causing all those dark emotions to resurface with renewed potency. Too strong to be held at bay, they washed over her until she felt like drowning, involuntarily gasping for breath. If this was a hint at the misery she'd have to bear everytime part of her memory returned, she'd gladly put up with missing that damned year forever!

But then- this was just a small part of the puzzle and when put together, the whole picture might not be quite so awful after all. The thought had hardly formed when she already knew that she was trying to fool herself in a weak attempt to make recalling her past less painful, to forestall further anguish.

Shaking her head, she silently called herself to order- denial would not do. Everything indicated that it had been as bad as this new fragment of remembrance suggested. She'd have to accept the facts as they were revealed successively and deal with them for good. For as much as she loved William, the fear that the past would always stand between them if not dealt with properly, was too great to be ignored. Indeed, it carried the potential to seriously endanger their future together and thus make them both unhappy for the rest of their life.

At that thought, her emotions once again erupted into hot tears that seeped from the corners of her eyes and slid down into her hair. It felt so unpleasant that she wanted to move her head but couldn't find the strength to do so.

Of its own accord, though, her hand did move, reaching under her pillow, feeling around for the sheets of paper she'd stowed there the evening before. When her fingers finally came in touch with William's letter, she carefully pulled it out of its hiding place and pressed it to her heart- like she'd done many times before. Immediately solace spred through her body and soul, making her sigh with relief and bringing a gentle smile to her lips.

Turning to her side, the letter still clasped tightly to her chest, she marvelled at the comfort she drew from his words ever since she'd decided to believe in them. She felt safe and secure in the knowledge of how much he loved her- and how much she loved him in return. Indeed, her love had even grown all the more, when she'd finally figured out why he'd left. Initally she'd been shocked to the core by his unexpected departure, but after spending the better part of yesterday thinking through everything, his true reason had been all too clear- he'd done it to grant her time. Though- wanting nothing more than to tell him personlly about her decision- she seriously doubted the necessity of such a drastic measure. With a deep sigh, she told herself that there was no use fretting about his absence; if he missed her only half as much as she missed him, he wouldn't be able to stay away for long...

Meanwhile his letter was all she had, and she finally opened her eyes to read it once again. But when her gaze incidentally grazed the alarm clock on her bedside table she sat up with a gasp, William's letter momentarily forgotten. It was already 10 a.m.! -She'd overslept for three hours. Where was her father? Why hadn't he woken her up?

Quickly scrambling out of bed, she left her room and hurried down the stairs to the kitchen. As she pushed open the door, she called for Bob, but stopped dead in her tracks when instead of him she found Jane sitting at the table, reading a newspaper and nipping at a cup of coffee. At Elizabeth's sudden appearance, she looked up and smiled warmly. "Good morning, sleepy head." Her brow furrowed in concern when she noticed her sister's pale complexion. "You had a rough night again, hadn't you?"

Elizabeth just nodded and walked over to the counter to help herself to a cup of coffee too, while Jane continued: "Papa expected as much after...what has happened yesterday. He told me to let you sleep in before he went to work."

Leaning against the cupboards with her back turned to Jane, Elizabeth suddenly realised that she'd taken William's letter with her. Not wanting her sister to know about it yet, let alone let her have a glimpse of it, she quickly pondered were to hide it. Since she hadn't put on her dressing gown the options were rather limited. Unable to come up with anything else, she finally lifted her top and tucked the letter under the elastic waisteband of her pyjama pants. Relieved she then went about filling her mug.

"It wouldn't have been necessary, really, but I apprciate it anyway," she said between sips as she joined her sister at the table. "But what are you doing here, Janie? Don't you have to go to work, too?"

Jane smiled slyly and wriggled her eyebrows. "Well, that's the great advantage of working for Charles' company- schedule control is pretty much in my hands. -With everything that is going on at the moment, I really feel I should be here for you. And Charles feels the same."

Elizabeth patted her sister's hand that lay on the table between them. "Thank you, Janie, thank you both, but I'm afraid there's not much you can do."

"Well, at least I can listen," Jane shrugged. "That is- if you want to talk. And- to be honest- I have to tell you something too."

"Then you go first."

"Alright...I thought about Patricia yesterday."

Elizabeth's brows shot up in surprise and her mouth opened, but Jane forestalled an interruption by shaking her head. "No Lizzy, please listen. It's no secret that I never liked her- I told you more than once that I don't trust her, that she makes me feel uneasy. And now she has confirmed my less than flattering opinion of her by what she's done to you and William. And I talked to Charles about it too, and of course he wanted to dissuade me from doing anything- but I think it just fair-" Jane had talked herself into a breathless tirade, that was finally cut short by Elizabeth.

"Janie hey! Stop it, stop it- calm down! What are you talking about?"

Momentarily taken aback, Jane asked: "Didn't I mention it?" To which Elizabeth just shook her head.

"Oh! -Well, I was talking about getting back at Patricia, punishing her- of course."

Elizabeth almost choked on her coffee at Jane's matter-of-fact declaration. She sputtered and coughed, laughing and trying to catch her breath all at the same time. Jane patted and stroked her back, muttering in a mixture of concern and indignation: "So you think that's funny? -That's nothing to laugh about, really. -I'm being serious here..."

Having recovered reasonably, Elizabeth stared at her sister in disbelief. "No Janie- you just can't be serious!"

"Whyever not? -She mustn't get away with what she's done! She hurt you- and William- badly!" At length realising that Jane was meaning business, Elizabeth reined in her exhilaration and strove for graveness. "Janie, forgive me for being blunt here- but that's...crap."

Jane gasped for breath, but this time Elizabeth stopped her before she could utter a word. "No, you listen now- don't you see how absurd this is? What do you think, I should do? Reproach her, threaten her- and then what? Nothing! Nothing I could say or do would change the situation; the harm has been done. All we can do now is cut our losses. -Besides, this is none of your business- it's not even mine."

There was a short pause while Jane mulled over her sister's words. As much as she disliked it, she had to admit that Elizabeth was right- she hadn't really thought beyond the notion of taking revenge. And while it was true that it was none of her business...

"Why do you feel it's none of your business either, Lizzy? After all, you are affected."

"I am, Janie, but merely by chance...William was her ultimate goal- he was the one she was after, not me. I was the exchangeable part in this scheme; any woman by his side would have been equally affected. That it was me, of all people, was fortunate for her since it wasn't really hard to...knock me off balance. And she used me perfectly to her advantage, but I was just the means- William was the target."

Her brows drawn together in consideration, Jane shook her head slowly. "I wonder what she was thinking, I just can't comprehend...I mean, what sort of...human being would do such a thing- would deliberately destroy someone's happiness."

Elizabeth heaved a sigh and, with a knowing smile, put a hand on her sister's arm. "This, Janie, is something you will never be able to understand."

"But you do?" Jane shot back and nudged her playfully.

"Alright- no...not really, not all of it, but partly, yes...because I'm now pretty sure- no, definitely sure, beyond a doubt- that Patricia and Tom had an affair-" Jane gasped even louder than before, her eyes round as saucers. "Do you remember anything, Lizzy?" she asked in a breathless whisper.

"No, I don't- not this part, at least- provided that I ever knew, of course. I...that is...I had a dream last night, and I know that it was another...fragement of memory, but not enough yet to draw any conclusions."

"Then how do you know? From what you've told me about your fight, I understood that William merely hinted at it."

Elizabeth briefly thought about still keeping the letter a secret, but suddenly there seemed to be no sound reason to do so. She sighed deeply and explained. Hanging on her sister's lips, Jane listened with rapt attention. When Elizabeth was finished, a quiet 'wow' was all she could muster as a first answer, but her hand curled tightly around her sister's in an attempt to give comfort as much as gain it. Her voice was full of compassion when she finally spoke. "Oh Lizzy, you really must've been shocked."

"Strangely enough, not as much as you would think," Elizabeth replied with a slight shake of her head. "I mean, I've had enough hints already to realise that something has been terribly wrong with my marriage, haven't I? Of course it was not easy to see it in cold print, but after giving it some thought, I couldn't but believe William's every word. And that was when I became really distressed- for mistrusting him again."

"It wasn't your fault, Lizzy, neither then nor now," Jane hurried to reassure her.

"I know that, Janie, but still- isn't it quite...astounding that he should care about me- even love me- any longer? Every other man would have walked out on me by now, I'm sure."

Instead of replying, Jane dropped her gaze and stared into her coffee cup. Brows furrowed in confusion, Elizabeth glanced at her sister's bowed head. "What is it, Janie?"

Ever so slowly Jane looked up again with sorrow-filled eyes. "Didn't William do just that, Lizzy? Walk out on you, I mean?" she asked gently.

For a few seconds, Elizabeth stared at her sister in dumbfounded silence. Then she started to laugh. "No Janie! No, he definitely did not!"

Ignoring her sister's mirth, Jane remaind serious with a small hint of annoyance edging her tone. "But what then? He's gone, isn't he?" Her voice dropped deep, as she repeated William's words. "'I need distance- physically and mentally- to come to terms with everything', that's what he said. Now, what does this sound like?"

"Like an excuse, a good one at that," Elizabeth retorted unperturbed.

"What?!"

"Oh Janie, as if you didn't know him! William's a very private person. Did it never occur to you that he didn't want to discuss his real reasons with Charles and you? He likes to keep things strictly between those involved- and he hates to talk about his feelings. -He's quite bad at it too, believe me," she added while rolling her eyes heavenward.

All the while Jane watched Elizabeth closely, concentrated on her every expression, taking in her every word. Finally she sat back in her chair and inhaled deeply. "I'm surprised to see how confident you are about a happy outcome to this whole mess. When I called yesterday, you seemed to be so desperate, and now...I mean, it's great to see you so optimistic again, but are you really that sure?"

Elizabeth stood and walked over to the window to stare outside, mimicking William's favourite habit. Jane couldn't help but smile slightly at her sister's unintentional action- obviously the two lovers had already influenced each other more than could be expected after so short an affair.

"Actually Janie, I was shaken, deeply disturbed- if you will. William's unexpected appearance, the contents of his letter- and then you, telling me that he was leaving. I was quite desperate, yes- and at first I thought he was walking out on me. And," she took a shaky breath, "I cried my eyes out."

Jane left her chair and joined Elizabeth at the window, wordlessly embracing her from behind. "What changed your mind then?" she asked softly.

"When I was through with crying, I reread the letter several times, remembered what he'd said after our fight, and finally it all became clear to me- I love him, I believe him and I trust in his love for me." She turned to face her sister. "And then I understood that he has left to grant me time, Janie. I have more or less asked for it, so I can't really blame him. I told him that I needed my past back before I could move on with my future, and he did nothing but respect it."

"That sounds very much like William," Jane smiled warmly. "And since you are so sure about his motives, who am I to doubt them? I can see that you've come to know him very well- obviously even better than Charles and I do."

"Yes," Elizabeth nodded. "It's amazing, isn't it? I feel as if I'd known him all my life. And just a few weeks ago, I didn't like him at all, but now, just the thought of never being with him again..." her voice caught and her eyes grew moist.

"Hey," Jane squeezed her upper arms and looked at her insistently. "Don't even think about it. Where's your optimism? Not two minutes ago you were so sure that everything will be alright." Elizabeth wiped her eyes and managed a wobbly smile. "I know- it seems I'm a little confused these days."

Jane smiled gently and took her in her arms again. "My poor Lizzy...but that's no wonder. -Just don't forget to be positive!"

The sisters stood in silence until Jane inhaled deepy and dropped the matter without further ado. "Now, enough of that depressive stuff. I think you're in dire need for some cheering up. Let's talk about tomorrow- I gather you don't have any plans yet?" Unsure about what her sister was referring to, Elizabeth looked at her blank-faced. "Exactely what I thought," Jane went on with a twinkle in her eyes. "Tomorrow's New Year's eve, Lizzy."

At first Elizabeth laughed, "Oh yes, of course, I've completely forgotten!" Then her brows pulled into a deep frown. "And don't you call my thoughts and feelings depressive stuff, or I will never bare my soul to you again," she growled while trying to hide a smile.

Jane gave a dismissive shrug. "Well, what can I say- they are depressive- and I don't believe in your idle threats."

Elizabeth sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes. "Alright, you win, I lose. I admit that I couldn't do without you." Ignoring Jane's smug expression, she took her hand and dragged her to the door. "Come upstairs with me and tell me about your plans while I get dressed. It's almost noon, but I figure I should show up at work before they forget what I look like."

Chapter 15 - Part 2

It was late in the afternoon when Patricia was getting ready to go out. Dressed in a sheer silk robe, and on her way to the bedroom to dress, she was stopped by a knock on the door to her suite. Assuming it was room service with the drink she'd ordered a few minutes ago, she quickly crossed the living room to answer.

As she pulled the door open, she gasped and felt all color drain from her face. In a flash she thought about slamming it shut again immediately, but to her dismay she found herself rendered immobile.

Ankles crossed, hands buried in his pockets, Richard leaned leisurely against the door frame and smiled down at her, or rather bared his teeth at her because the glint in his eyes was cold as ice. "Well, well, well, Patricia," he drawled, his gaze moving slowly over her, from head to toe and back again. "So...how have you been?"

Already unnerved by his close scrutiny, she started at his unexpected question. The instant she'd seen him, she'd known that something had gone terribly wrong with her brilliant plan and she braced herself for a blunt accusation, a head-on attack; but she'd not counted on an attempt at polite conversation. At a complete loss for words, she could only watch as he pushed away from the door frame and stepped around her to saunter into her living room. He looked around, then gave a low whistle. "Hey, that's splendid- I never knew my aunt had such good taste."

The second his casual remark registered, Patricia realised what a huge mistake she'd made. Everything inside her went still with shock- for a moment she thought that even her heart had stopped beating. Yet, instead of dropping dead on the spot, she had to face the failure of her plans through her own foolishness. For many months now she'd been devising and discarding schemes and strategies to get back at William, had made her longing for revenge the center of her life, just to see it all collapse in a split second. And the worst of it was that Richard stood there and watched while she threatened to crumble under the onslaught of utter frustration and deep embarrassment.

"Stupid mistake, Patricia," he noted softly. "Stupid...You should have stayed away."

On first impulse she wanted to rush into defending herself, find excuses for her actions. But as she took in his self-satisfied grin, blind rage leapt to life inside her and made her press her lips together tightly- no way was she going to admit anything.

Quickly gathering her wits, she mentally checked the present situation and to her relief found that not everything was lost yet- after all, William was gone. She'd cut him to the quick, just as she'd intended to. And up to this point her behaviour had not given away what she'd been up to and Collins had been exceedingly discreet in his tasks. Richard simply couldn't know what she'd done and she would by no means reveal the truth.

After carefully clearing her throat, she addressed him for the first time since he'd invaded her private sphere. "I've no idea what you are referring to, Rick, other than maybe my unfortunate choice of hotel. I'm in London to visit some old friends of mine, is all." Richard's loud laugh made her wince despite herself. "Friends of yours, Patricia?" he asked with barely concealed sarcasm in his voice. "I never knew you were actually able to make friends."

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Rick," Patricia huffed and squared her shoulders.

"Well...that remains to be seen..." he retorted quietly, his irritating smile never faltering, his cold eyes skimming up and down her body once again.

Summoning up all her willpower Patricia suppressed the urge to cross her arms over her chest to protect herself from his piercing gaze. She was determined not to show her discomfort, but no way would she stand there any longer and allow him to intimidate her. Purposely ignoring his disconcerting remark, she even managed a small smile. "You'll have to excuse me, Rick. I've got to put on something more...appropriate. I'll be back in just a minute." With that she turned on her heels and strolled to the door of the adjoining room.

Richard watched her retreat, not for a second fooled by her seemingly casual attitude- he could feel caution and insecurity radiate from her body. Unable to restrain himself, he gave her something more to get flustered. "No need to hurry, Patricia- take your time. I'll wait- no matter how long it takes."

Her confident stride faltered briefly, but she didn't stop. If anything, her spine stiffened even more as she quickly passed the threshold and pulled the door closed behind her.

Richard grinned broadly, immensely enjoying the obvious cat-and-mouse game that was afoot; and Patricia seemed to be a deserving adversary. Rubbing his hands in anticipation, he strode to the couch and dropped into the soft cushions, waiting for the game to proceed.

On the other side of the door, Patricia slumped against the cool wood with her eyes tightly shut, while she took a few deep breaths to get a grip on her rattled nerves. All the time she silently scolded herself for the stupid mistake she'd made. To check into one of Lady Cat's hotels really was the silliest thing to do! But she'd been so absorbed in her plans that she'd been foolishly careless about her choice of accommodation- in fact, she hadn't even given it a single thought. Dumb- but it couldn't be helped. She'd have to deal with the consequences somehow and be done with it.

Feeling considerably more at ease, she inhaled deeply once more and straightened away from the door. On her way to the closet to retrieve her clothes, she wondered briefly how Richard fit into the picture. Very quickly she discerned that there was only one reasonable explanation.

Somebody had obviously recognised her and gone straight to Lady Cat to report the news; and the old frump had sent her nephew to get rid of her.

While she put on pants and a sweater, she weighed her options how to react to what was surely to come. With a smile she realised that there were many to consider: compliance, resistance, aggression, understanding, or she could act indifferent, pathetic, cordial...a hard choice. She bit her lower lip, trying to make a decision- and in the end settled for nonchalance. Because in truth it really didn't matter...

Filled with renewed confidence, she walked back to the door to rejoin Richard. Since she had everything under control again, she thought she might even enjoy a battle royal with him as an opponent. Pushing open the door, she stepped into the living room and spotted him sitting on the couch. "So I gather you're playing errand-boy for the old bat?" she addressed him with a smirk.

Richard didn't answer, instead his mouth compressed into a thin line that clearly served to hide a sly smile while he briefly glanced to the left and then back at her.

Patricia's head whipped around in alarm at the same time as Lady Catherine's prim voice filled the room. "Miss McKinley, you're adding verbal slander to your list of transgressions. Let me tell you once and for all that I won't tolerate either. And to answer your rude question- no, I did not send Richard on my behalf. He volunteered- quite eagerly I might add- for throwing you out himself."

Patricia listened in growing horror, her mind reeling as all the possible meanings behind Lady Catherine's punctuated words tumbled through her befuddled brain. Utterly shaken by her inner turmoil, she couldn't prevent a telling gasp from slipping past the lump in her throat. Once again deeply mortified, she let her appalled gaze dart back and forth between aunt and nephew to gauge their reaction.

But all she saw was Richard snuggling deeper into the cushions of the couch, perfectly relaxed, and obviously having the time of his life, and Lady Catherine stepping out of the shadows that had so effectively hidden her from sight and slowly approaching her.

Unable to stop herself, Patricia took a step backward in startled retreat as the petite, old woman drew to a halt in front of her, scowling up at her in open hostility. Her instincts told her to duck, but she fought them with all her might in an effort to retain at least a small amount of dignity. It was then that the ridiculousness of the circumstances occurred to her; she was being intimidated by a notorious scoundrel and his dwarfish- albeit potent- aunt, who could hold nothing against her but her being in the wrong place. Hysterical laughter bubbled up inside her as her head felt very light all of a sudden.

It must have shown on her face, because Lady Catherine's eyes narrowed in anger. "It seems you're totally unaware of the seriousness of this matter, Miss McKinley, or else you wouldn't find this amusing in the least," she hissed aggressively. Rendered speechless by this seething statement, Patricia cast an unsettled glance over the smaller woman's head, just to see Richard furrow his brow and shake his head at her in quiet, mock disapproval.

His derision was enough to send her temper over the edge; she went from perplexity to outrage in mere seconds. She would not put up with this any longer- Lady Catherine treating her as if she were the lowest of criminals and Richard making fun of her. No matter what she'd done, and what they might know about it, she didn't deserve to be dealt with so disdainfully. Rising to her full height, she drew her gaze back to Lady Catherine, staring down at the smaller woman in open rage.

"I've had enough of your insinuations! I will not accept your rude manner any longer," she huffed. "You've no right whatsoever to disturb my privacy and-"

"I beg to differ, Miss McKinley," Lady Catherine cut in sharply. "This is my hotel, which gives me every right to do as I please."

Lifting her chin another inch, Patricia retorted haughtily: "Then do as you please- I'm not afraid of you!"

"Wrong attitude, Miss McKinley," Lady Catherine said, her soft voice a stark contrast to the angry sparkle in her eyes. "You might want to reconsider, once we're finished. -Now, I want you to pack your bags and leave- without delay."

"Very well," Patricia nodded, utterly unperturbed, because this was exactly what she'd expected to happen. "As soon as I've found another hotel, I'll be out of here." And then, unable to resist, she added: "I didn't like it anyway."

About to turn around, so they wouldn't see the victorious grin on her face, she was stopped cold by Lady Catherine. "There seems to be a misunderstanding, I'm afraid..."

Patricia froze, her grin slipping away into a frown of tense anticipation. Not quite sure of what was to come, she slowly brought her gaze back to Lady Catherine's. "A misunderstanding?"

"Yes, Miss McKinley. It was my fault though- I didn't express myself correctly. I want you to leave London- and stay away for good."

Feeling as if she'd been hit square in the chest, Patricia gasped for breath. "What..." she began, then swallowed hard, struggling to keep her croaking voice in check. "You can't do that," she finally managed. "I'm free to go and stay wherever I want- you can't limit my personal liberty."

"In this case, Miss McKinley, I can," Lady Catherine replied, unmoved, "and I will. You threw down the gauntlet and I accepted it- but let me warn you that you've picked the wrong enemy. For I'm not to be trifled with, and there's hardly anything I wouldn't do to win."

As dread settled in the pit of her stomach, Patricia desperately fought to hold on to her common sense. Another insinuation- yet again, no open accusation. They seemed to have some strong suspicions but no proof at all. Were they maybe trying to lure her into a confession? She almost snorted aloud- no way would she do them the favour to own up to anything! They couldn't really think her that stupid, could they? At that notion, her uneasiness was instantly replaced by fury. A challenge was obviously under way, and she wasn't one to simply back down. If they really knew what she'd done, she wanted them to admit it openly- no more playing hide and seek. "As I already told Richard," she said, resting her hands on her hips in a gesture of unrestrained anger, "I fail to see the reason for your...visit. Would you care to enlighten me?"

Lady Catherine's eyes widened momentarily at Patricia's unexpected audacity, but she quickly contained her amazement. Accepting that the time for frankness had come, she slightly inclined her head in agreement. "Very well then, Miss McKinley. Apart from the bold arrogance to make yourself comfortable in one of my hotels, you hired one of my employees to gather information about my nephew- and then used it against him in the cruelest of ways!"

Patricia was torn between anger and relief as she took in Lady Catherine's words. Anger about Collins who was obviously the one who'd betrayed her. But on the other hand, she was relieved to have it all in the open at last- all those inexplicit hints had been driving her crazy. Now that she knew what the old witch had evidently known all along, she was convinced that there was not much to come yet that she couldn't handle. Self-confidence kicked in strongly, making her brazen and ready to meet her enemies head-on. "So?" she replied proudly. "The deed is done. There's no way for you to change what I've done."

"True," Lady Catherine conceded, "but I can make sure that you'll never get another chance to do anything like it again."

"How so?" Patricia asked with mild curiosity, raising her hand to casually study her fingernails. A perfect gesture to show how little she cared about the answer.

Silence ensued, growing more and more uncomfortable the longer it lasted. Patricia knew that Lady Catherine was waiting for her to look up again, but she fiercely fought the urge to do so, determined not to give in. In the end, however, Richard duped her. He chuckled audibly, taking her by surprise, and her head came up before she could hold back the movement. She glared at him angrily then focused her gaze on Lady Catherine, careful to keep her expression indifferent.

"Interested after all, Miss McKinley?" Without waiting for an answer, she continued: "If you refuse to do as I ask, I will not hesitate to inform your family about the double life you've lived the past few years."

"My family will not believe you!" Patricia blurted out, hectic colour rising in her cheeks. "You have no proof for your ridiculous accusations!"

"Rest assured, Miss McKinley, that I've sufficient proof to convince your family. And since they know about your past... dealings with your cousin-"

"You can't do that!" Patricia shouted furiously, taking a threatening step towards the smaller woman.

Out of the corner of her eyes Lady Catherine saw Richard rise from the couch. With a quick shake of her wrist, she told him to stay where he was while she coolly faced Patricia's fury.

"Once again- I can and I will, if necessary."

Patricia kept on staring down at Lady Catherine, her expression slowly changing from anger to startled realisation- she was trapped. Her family had long since lost any trust they'd had in her; their relationship was strained, to say the least. One more lapse- and this was a considered a major lapse, if there ever had been one- and she could kiss her monthly allowance goodbye for good, and her inheritance, for that matter. Moreover- they would ban her from all the family properties, and in the end she literally would have nowhere to go. Unbeknownst to her, a deep sigh escaped her. Oh well, she'd have to back down and concede defeat...yet, seen on the whole, her plan had been a success, hadn't it?

But while she was still cheering about her victory, it occurred to her that in truth it had been of little help for her bruised feelings. It had done nothing to lessen her love for Tom, or the longing she felt everytime she thought about him...Her brows furrowed as doubt began to gnaw on her conviction; had her scheme been of any use at all...Of course it had- just to know that William suffered almost as much as she did, relieved her a little. Didn't it show clearly that she'd done right after all? An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth- there was nothing wrong with that, was there?

"I don't think that there's anything else to be said, Miss McKinley. If you get ready to leave now, I guarantuee that I will do everything in my power to conceal your misdeeds," Lady Catherine's prim voice interrupted her thoughts.

Patricia was jerked back to the present instantly, but too late to hear the entire statement. All her preoccupied mind registered were those last words: '...your misdeeds'. She immediately started up on them, the emotional rollercoaster she'd been riding since Richard's appearance taking her to yet another height.

"My misdeeds?" she repeated in genuine indignation and- her tone becoming slightly hysterical- once again. "My misdeeds! -What a joke!" Unable to contain her surging feelings, she wrapped her arms around herself and began to pace the room, heedless of any obstacles in her way.

"Don't you understand that I haven't done anything wrong- he got what he deserved! I exerted revenge, that's what I did! There's nothing wrong in that!"

Lady Catherine stepped aside swiftly to avoid a collision, regarding her with narrowed eyes, silently asking herself whether she was audience to a masterful performance, or to an authentic mental breakdown.

Richard for his part sat immobile, watching her antics with cocked eyebrows, at first somewhat taken aback by her vehement reaction but all too soon fully convinced that she'd obviously gone stark raving mad.

Patricia walked back and forth, rattling on about what injustice had been done to her. That the only man she'd ever loved had been killed and that her whole misery was entirely William's fault. Both aunt and nephew started at that declaration, their gazes connecting across the room, wordlessly conveying their mutual assessment of the situation- and not in the least surprised that they found nothing but accordance; though perhaps they would have used very different phrases to express their opinions of Patricia's state of mind.

Straightening her spine in determination, Lady Catherine moved to stop the raging woman, but Richard held her back with a decided shake of his head. When she hesitated to compy with his instruction, a silent battle of wills ensued that saw him as the winner as he finally managed to keep her in place with a permeating glare.

Task accomplished to his satisfaction, Richard slowly rose to his feet, feeling a tad disappointed that the hassle with Patricia he'd been so looking forward to had obviously come to an abrupt end. By no means was she the equal opponent- neither for him, nor for his aunt- he'd expected her to be, not by a long shot.

Rounding the small coffee table in front of him, he took a step forward, thus effectively blocking Patricia's path. Oblivious to what was going on around her, she bumped into him and drew back immediately with an exasperated expletive. Before she could get away, he clasped her upper arms, careful to keep his grip light, and spoke her name quietly, trying to calm her down. But his effort had quite the opposite effect; hot colour tainted Patricia's cheekbones and her face contorted with rage. Breaking away from his hold, she rounded upon him: "Don't touch me, you jerk! I hate you! You and your damned stuck-up family!"

"Miss McKinley!" Lady Catherine stepped in, her voice razorsharp. "Watch your mouth!"

"Shut up, old frump! I won't be order about by you!" Patricia retorted furiously, moving as if to take a step closer.

Richard moved forward, effectively putting himself between the two women, his back turned to Lady Catherine. "That's quite enough, Patricia," he growled, jamming his hands into his pockets lest he strangle her then and there. "You'd better grab your things and get lost before I forget my good manners and throw you out."

Stubbornly Patricia crossed her arms over her chest, widened her stance as if to prepare herself for an attack and glared at him. "Try," she prompted him.

Before he react in any way, he heard Lady Catherine grumble behind him: "I've had it." With that she turned to the telephone and called security.

Half an hour later they were back in Lady Catherine's office. While she sat down behind her desk, Richard slumped into the chair across from her and stretched out his long legs. "Well, that wasn't really as funny as I'd expected," he muttered sulkily.

Lady Catherine cast him an amused glance and shrugged. "Could be you expected too much- I, for one, had quite a good time."

Richard shook his head, still trying to digest the past events. "You know that I've always disliked her, we all did- but today her behaviour exceeded my boldest expectations...man, some of her curses actually made me blush."

His aunt chuckled, thinking that the two security guards who'd arrived at the suite immediately after her call hadn't fared much better than her poor nephew. Though their stony expressions hadn't given away a thing, she'd seen their ears redden traitorously. Even with them around, Patricia had tried to offer resistance. Lady Catherine seriously wondered if she hadn't in truth enjoyed the show- being the center of everyone's attention did that to some people.

But in the end, with the two guards towering above her, watching her every step as she collected her belongings and a threat to call the police if she didn't cooperate properly, she'd finally given in. Her swearing hadn't stopped though; she'd continued prattling away, only in a lower voice.

Finally, when she'd been ready to go, they'd all escorted her down the backstairs and out of the hotel. With another hefty oath she'd climbed into a waiting cab and was gone- much to everyone's relief.

Richard inhaled deeply and rose from his chair. "Anyway, I'm glad we got rid of her- and I really hope not to see her ever again."

"I'm with you, Rick, with all my heart," Lady Catherine agreed. "Where are you going?"

He walked around the desk to her side. "I'm going to take you to a well-deserved supper, Lady Cat." He bowed gracefully and extended his arm to her. "Will you do me the honour?"

Standing up, she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and playfully winked at him. "The honour is mine, Sir Rick. Be my guest."

While the left for her privat dining room, Lady Catherine's thoughts were still occupied with the events of the day. She really hoped that this was the last time she'd had to deal with Patricia, but somehow she had her doubts. A feeling of uneasiness had settled in the pit of her stomach and was not to be quenched. However, Patricia was gone- so she'd achieved her aim for now, and that was all that counted in her book.

Chapter 15 - Part 3

They were dancing, slowly swaying to the gentle rhythm of some far-away tune. With his nose buried in her hair and his arms looped around her soft body, he revelled in the scent of her and the feel of her. As she snuggled closer with a small content sigh, he tightened his embrace, pulling her more firmly against him. His heartbeat accelerated when he felt her puckered nipples poke into his chest and her thigh brush his stiffening penis.

She lifted her head and looked up at him, her beautiful eyes full of love and desire. Their gazes locked briefly before his dropped to her rosy lips. They were moist and slightly parted, her breath rushing through in soft choppy pants. Unable to resist temptation, he bent his head and kissed her tenderly.

Her hands left his waist and slid upward along his spine in a sensuous caress until they reached his neck. There her slender fingers curled around his bare skin while she went on tiptoe to deepen their kiss. He groaned and slanted his head to thrust his tongue into the hot depth of her mouth. When she moaned in longing, he cupped her buttocks and brought them groin to groin. In answer, she opened her legs and hooked them around his waist, straining against the ridge of his erection.

Never breaking their kiss, he took a few staggering steps until his shin bumped into the side of his bed. Slowly he lowered her to the soft mattress, coming down with her to kneel between her wide spread thighs. Fascinated by the sight of her aroused naked body, he wondered fleetingly where their clothes had gone- or had they ever worn any?

She reached out for him, whispering his name on an erratic sigh, expelling all thoughts from his mind but that of their imminent reunion. Yet, despite her urgency, he took his time caressing her, from the sensitive skin just above her neatly curled pubic hair, up her soft belly to her puckered nipples. He licked and suckled her, filling his senses with her incredibly sweet taste, making her writhe beneath him in mindless arousal, until they both couldn't stand it any longer. He then covered her quivering body with his and buried himself in her to the hilt with one hard stroke.

Crying out in heady pleasure, already on the verge of fulfillment, they stilled, not wanting it to end so quickly. But once again she looped her legs around his waist, drawing him even deeper into her tight, moist heat.

Her action destroyed the precarious hold he'd had on his self-control and with a harsh groan he began to thrust powerfully. Her hips undulating, she joined his rhythm, never missing a beat, her ardour and fervency matching his.

Accompanied by throaty sobs and moans and the sound of naked flesh coming together and parting again, they swiftly climbed the peak. She reached it first and went over the edge, calling out his name repeatedly, beckoning him to follow her into oblivion.

With one last deft stroke, he did, holding himself deeply inside her, his hot seed spurting into her in a mind-numbing release that made him cry out in ecstasy.

The violence of his climax woke him up, his body straining and shuddering as he spilled himself into the bedclothes. Sweating and panting, haze and confusion shrouding his brain, he extended an arm to reach for the warm body he thought he'd only just left. When he encountered nothing but emptiness, he slowly began to realise what had just happened- he'd been dreaming; a dream so intense that he'd really believed to be with her.

A torrent of emotions came crushing down on him, the foremost being sadness and loneliness; but they were followed quickly by deep mortification and disgust with himself as he became aware of the sticky wetness that stained his blanket. With a jerky movement he threw it back and rolled over to sit on the side of his bed, still getting caught occasionally by involuntary tremors as his nerve endings slowly calmed in the aftermath of his orgasm.

Dear God, where was his self-control? He wondered as he sat there, with his elbows resting on his thighs and his head hanging in desperation. He hadn't had a wet dream since...he couldn't even remember- in any case, it hadn't occurred since he'd been old enough to learn to restrain himself. To a man who was used to exerting control over his actions and emotions, not matter the situation he found himself in, this was the worst experience imaginable. Passing a hand through his hair, he smiled wryly. Shouldn't he know by now that he had no control over himself whatsoever where Elizabeth was concerned?

Details of his dream suddenly came back to him in vivid sight and sound: her flushed body writhing beneath him in fervid arousal, her voice calling out his name as she reached her peak, the feeling of her body tightening around his shaft.

His loins clenched in a new surge of passion so strong, it was well beyond him- again- to hold it in check. He felt a deep blush of humiliation crawl into his face and shook his head vigorously to get rid of those disconcerting images.

With a disgruntled snort, he stood up and walked away from the bed in an effort to put distance between himself and the site of his unsettling experience. From the opposite corner of the room he eyed it with a frown, wondering how he would ever be able to find another minute's rest in it. Presently he couldn't even image getting near to it again. But he'd have to sooner or later, to change the dirty bedclothes. Not yet, though- first of all he'd take a long, cold shower.

He huffed angrily as he went into the bathroom. After switching on the light, he stood above the sink and stared at his reflection in the mirror. The man who stared back at him looked satisfied- physically satisfied. Eyes glazed and heavy-lidded, cheeks still flushed, topped with dishevelled curls. "Damn," he muttered in frustration, scowling at the raspy tone of his voice- he even sounded satisfied! The contrast between his looks and the way he felt couldn't be stronger.

Heaving a discontented sigh, he turned away from his mirror image and stepped into the shower stall. He reached for the tab with the shiny blue mark, when his hand stopped in indecision- it was one thing to think about the proverbial 'cold shower', but to actually take it was something completely different. A shiver ran through him, sending goose bumps up and down his body as he imagined the icy water pouring down on him. He shook his head in refusal, just to hear his cousin's voice ringing in his ears: 'Being gutless again, dear cousin?'

"Yep- so what? Stop me if you can," he growled defiantly and turned on the tab with the bright red mark as far as it would go.

While he savoured the comfortably warm jet of water flowing down his body, he once again wondered what to do next. Yesterday evening he'd seriously considered going back home. But how could he now? This profound lack of self-control went far beyond his own expectations. There was no predicting his reaction to her, should he meet her face to face.

Not that he'd planned on meeting her- he'd pondered returning to England but avoiding London and its vicinity and going to Pemberley instead. In light of his dream, however, even Pemberley seemed too near to the temptation that was Elizabeth. He wouldn't be able to trust himself when she was that close to him. In a moment of weakness he might give in to his desires and rush to her without second thought- and then what?

'And then nothing,' he admonished himself silently. Because he wouldn't do it- couldn't go back home just yet. She had asked him for time and he'd granted it- if not verbally, in his mind he had anyway. The next step was hers to take; all he could do was wait for her decision. As much as he hated being inactive, in this case he had no other choice- if he wanted another chance with her, he had to be patient...

Casting a wary glance downward to see his rampant manhood sticking out in a semi-erect state, he couldn't help but think that his patience would be put to a hard test. Even though it was only two days since he'd last seen Elizabeth, his raging hormones and reeling mind made him feel as if they'd been already separated for weeks. He wondered fleetingly if he would ever be able to find any peace again without her by his side.

Maybe he should set aside all his qualms and return home nonetheless? What was the worst thing he would have to expect? Her anger, her contempt, her rejection...Just the very idea hurt so much that he let out an agonised groan.

He dipped his head back and let the water pound down on his face, hoping that it would help to chase away the hurtful thoughts. Wasn't it as likely that she'd welcome him with open arms? His letter may have somehow convinced her of his honesty, made her understand how he'd felt and told her how much he loved her.

No, surely she'd never doubted his love for her, he thought as he shook his head and sent drops of water flying. Recalling their argument, he couldn't remember anything she'd said that called his feelings into question. And he just knew that she loved him back...for if she didn't, she could never have given herself to him so freely, could she?

With a heavy sigh of utter confusion he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. He grabbed a towel and slowly began to dry himself while walking back into the bedroom. What he really needed most of all was certainty, one way or the other. Yet, he was too afraid to go ahead and demand a decision from her. She might very well reject him despite the love she felt just because she thought she couldn't trust him anymore; and furthermore, he wasn't in the position to demand anything from her.

Well aware of her gracious heart though, he hoped that she would forgive him...eventually- but not after only 48 hours. This was too important a decision for both of them to be made in haste. She would have to be absolutely sure- beyond a doubt- that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. And to have a future together, he needed her to trust him as much as he needed her to love him.

As he slipped into a pair of boxers and an old tee-shirt, he promised himself once again not to rush her. It wouldn't do to go back home right now- he'd stay at least a week, or maybe two and then reconsider the possibility of returning.

But until then he needed something to do, something to distract him effectively, so he wouldn't go crazy thinking about her. Work- why shouldn't he be able to work for his company from here? He had a telephone, if not his mobile, and he could get a laptop- he'd had the house reequipped a few years ago with all the necessary lines- and that was pretty much all he needed. Glad to have finally found something reasonable to do, he rubbed his hands in anticipation and swiftly turned around to head for his study.

When his gaze fell on the bed with its crumpled sheets, however, he stopped in his tracks and frowned in annoyance. First things first- he'd quickly change the stained bedclothes and throw them into the washing machine, and then call his secretary.

Twenty minutes later he was in his study, talking to Emily on the phone. "I just don't want anyone to know where I am- not even Georgiana. You're the only one who can reach me and I intend to keep it this way."

He listened for a while, then rolled his eyes heavenward and interrupted her rant: "What's the problem? If an emergency should arise, I'll be home in no time. Other than that, all I want to talk about is business- no private stuff. I don't want to hear from Rick or Charles or Aunt Cat-"

Emily obviously disagreed, but this time he nodded: "Alright, except for Georgie- but don't tell her where I am. I'm going to call her later and explain everything. But now I'm going to buy a laptop and get online as fast as possible. I'll send you an email when I'm ready. Tomorrow-"

He was stopped as Emily cut him off. His face went blank at her words.

"What are you talking about- not tomorrow?" he finally asked.

"Oh, of course, I see- today's New Year's Eve..."

"No, no, it's alright...on the second then...yes, thank you- the same for you...good-bye, Emily."

Slowly he put down the receiver and sat there pensively. He hadn't been aware that it was the 31st of December- he definitely didn't want to be alone on the forthcoming evening. He would in all likelihood spend it being sorry for himself and getting drunk slowly but surely over his misery to be separated from his love.

Immediately Elizabeth appeared before his mind's eye, the thought of her squeezing his heart. He wanted so much to be with her that her absence hurt almost physically. For a few moments he closed his eyes and breathed deeply to get his emotions back under control. He just couldn't let himself go like this- he had to get into motion and carry out his plan of rearranging his study to have an efficient working place.

Filled with new determination, he stood up and left for his bedroom to get dressed. On the way he began to mentally skim the list of friends he could call and spend the upcoming evening with.

Chapter 16 - Part 1

During the nights- and days- following New Year's Eve, Elizabeth's memory continued to return bit by bit. When she slept, she dreamt about Tom and their life together; when she was awake she experienced short flashbacks that abruptly emerged out of nowhere. She mainly recalled small incidents, impressions and emotions; and thus, with agonising slowness, a painful picture formed of the last months of her marriage. Soon it became clear that she'd been indeed very unhappy, just as her father- and maybe Jane too, though she'd never really said as much- had suspected. But the events that she most of all craved to remember- those William had told her about in his letter- still remained in the black void the accident had caused in her mind.

Every night when she went to bed, she both feared and anticipated falling asleep and plunging again into the seemingly endless depth of her memory. Fear because of the bitter feelings that inevitably came along with each small remembrance; anticipation because she could hardly wait to relive her former interactions with William.

Not that she mistrusted him any longer; in fact, by now she believed his every word and found great solace and security in the knowledge of his love. It helped her to overcome the sadness that encompassed her every time she woke from another dream about her failed marriage like nothing else could. Yet, the promise of a future with the man she loved with all her heart, couldn't appease her desire to remember the past events herself.

All the different hints and accounts she got from other people were tainted with their personal thoughts and feelings and could not at all be considered unbiased. Being the only one who'd actually lived through all of it, she was more than ever unwilling to put up with anything less than her own recollection; because the urge to know went far beyond mere curiosity. It was borne out of a deep-rooted fear that a past she couldn't leave behind her for good, might one day return to haunt her future.

But when time passed and her mind refused to comply with her wishes, she grew impatient and annoyed. Again and again she thought about the dream she'd had at Netherfield- and the subsequent flashback. Since she knew by now that they'd both been fragments of her memory, she wondered what might have caused them.

In the end she could draw only one logical conclusion: it must have been William's presence, and all the feelings their repeated lovemaking and heated argument called forth. If her assumption was correct- and somehow she didn't doubt that it was- she'd definitely made the wrong decision. Instead of needing time without him, she obviously needed more time with him- she needed him by her side. But he'd gone away, and for all she knew he could be pretty much anywhere. So how was she supposed to get in touch with him?

The longer she thought, the more her annoyance grew. From simmering well beneath the surface, it turned to a full conflagration of pure anger- against him. If he couldn't stand being near her, why on earth hadn't he gone to Pemberley? Surely that would have been far enough! Oh, but no, he had to do the melodramatic thing and climb into some damn airplane to go to only god knew where! What an utterly selfish thing to do! Hadn't it occurred to him that he'd make it impossible for her to reach him?

Though she knew she was being highly irrational, she just couldn't help herself- she needed an outlet for her frustration with the whole situation. At last she thought it best to sleep on it, and sure enough, the next day her anger had vanished into thin air; she was even capable of laughing at the irony of it all.

A week after William's unexpected departure, she finally decided to take action. Someone had to know where he was! Not Jane and Charles, though; her sister called at least once a day to ask if she'd had word from him, making it obvious that her initial fret about what she still regarded as inconsiderate had long since changed into genuine worry. During one of those daily calls, Jane had also informed her that William's whereabouts were also unknown to his relatives. So who did that leave? Evidently he didn't want to maintain any private contacts, but what about his business? What if an emergency arose there? Surely his employees would know how to get in touch with him.

Her heart skipped a beat at the thought that, most likely, she'd be talking to William within the next half hour. With slightly trembling fingers, she punched in the number she already knew by heart. It rang a few times, then a warm and friendly female voice answered: "William Darcy's office- Emily Tyson speaking."

Elizabeth opened her mouth to reply, but not a sound emerged from her tight throat. While she fought for her equilibrium, the voice rang in her ear again: "Hello? Who's there? I can't hear you."

"I- " Elizabeth rasped almost inaudibly. She stopped and swollowed hard, fiercly suppressing her nervousness. "Hi, I'm Elizabeth Baxter-Harding. I need to talk to Mr Darcy."

There was a moment's pause before Emily asked carefully: "On business or private?"

"Uh...private- definitely...private. If you could just tell him-"

"I'm sorry, Mrs Harding, but Mr Darcy is on a business trip for an indefinite time." Though Emily was still friendly, the warmth in her voice had clearly dropped a few degrees.

Elizabeth frowned impatiently. "I know he's gone, but I have to get in touch with him anyway."

"Well, Mrs Harding," came the frosty reply, "then you should also be aware of the fact that he's not available- for anyone."

Silently counting to ten, Elizabeth took a deep breath and attempted to keep her voice calm. "Mrs Tyson, your efforts to protect your boss are really admirable. But it truly is of the utmost importance that I reach him. So if you just tell him-"

"Mrs Harding, you don't seem to understand," Emily cut in again, letting go of friendliness as well. "I have very strict orders, and they do not allow for any exceptions. He's not available- period."

"Except for you, of course," Elizabeth grated through clenched teeth, her anger finally getting the better of her.

"Of course," Emily retorted primly, "but- after all- I'm his personal assistant."

Unable to hold back a second longer, Elizabeth exploded: "And I'm his lover!" she shouted and slammed down the receiver energetically, lest she adorn that personal assistant with a rather explicit personal abuse.

Emily jerked her head back at the loud crack that echoed through the telephone. She stared at it in utter astonishment for a few seconds before putting it down slowly. Elizabeth Baxter-Harding, silently she mulled over the name, recalling the woman's late husband Thomas, and William's extreme dislike of him.

Though not acquainted with any details, she knew for a fact that there'd been some very serious differences of opinion between the two men that had somehow led to the breakup of William's engagement to Patricia- not that Emily could care less. She'd never really liked Miss McKinley, and to her knowledge she was by no means alone in that.

However, she couldn't imagine that her boss would ever want to hear the name Baxter-Harding again, let alone to get too close to a member of that family. And now that man's widow actually claimed to be involved with William Darcy! Not believing her for a second, Emily shook her head at her audacity. Whatever she hoped to achieve with such an outrageous lie- not that Emily could think of anything reasonable right away- she was determined to nip Mrs Baxter-Harding's expectations in the bud. No way would she get anywhere near William Darcy!

As it was, William had obviously slithered into yet another personal crisis, or else he wouldn't have deserted- again- his family and friends, and- this time even- his company. By no means was Emily going to contribute to his apparent distress and push him ever deeper into misery. Therefore she decided not to tell him about that strange call. For the time being she'd keep it to herself and inform him later on, when he was back home and in better condition.

Content with her conclusion, she took a deep breath and resumed her work, and sure enough Elizabeth's call was forgotten not long after.

As soon as his study was adequately equipped, William plunged into work head-on, thankful for the distraction he hoped it would provide. But no matter how deeply he immersed himself in reports and statistics to occupy his errant thoughts, Elizabeth was never far from his mind. And whenever his concentration died down, she would come to the fore and fill his head with images of her face, her body and sometimes also the sound of her voice.

After two days of trying in vain to hold those images at bay, he was mentally spent. Since he'd no strength left to put up any more resistance, accepting his fate was his only option. He would have even done so gladly, if thinking about Elizabeth hadn't hurt so much. But the uncertainty of the situation, his own insecurity and painful longing joined together to form a tight knot of dread that settled in the pit of his stomach.

Never in his whole life had he needed anyone so much, his body and soul crying out for her whenever she wasn't near. Sometimes the intensity of his feelings left him breathless with fear, as did the speed with which everything had happened, though up to now he'd refused to admit it. But he had been- and still was, for that matter- helpless to do anything about it. He'd been pulled into a whirlpool of emotions so swiftly that he'd been right in the middle of it before he'd had time to react properly. Yet, thinking back to their encounter at his father's gravesite, recalling the feelings that had coursed through him at her touch, her tender kiss, he wondered what he could have done- and drew a blank.

Musing some more about it, he realised for the first time that behind his fragile defences he'd been a man starving for warmth and affection, a woman's warmth and affection. And once he'd felt it, he couldn't have drawn back again, not for the life of him; he'd been lost to her, his weak resistance broken in the space of time it took his heart to skip a beat. It had been an elating experience, the pleasure of it wonderfully exhilarating. He'd have shouted out his joy for all the world to hear- if not for the delicate circumstances that could still destroy what little hope he had left. Filled with a strange sense of foreboding, he asked himself if he would be held responsible for his misdeed, for the concealment that had set everything into motion. And if so, what would his punishment be? Having to forego a life with the woman he loved, for sure. Falling back into misery with a heart smashed to pieces, suffering for the rest of his years...

Why couldn't, just for once, something beautiful happen to him without any repercussions? How could his professional life be such a success while his private life lay in tatters? Why couldn't it be the other way round? And thus he began to quarrel with fate. His waking hours were spent brooding until his thoughts spun around in circles in his mind with no beginning and no end. His nights were just as uneasy, filled with dreams about Elizabeth, what had been and what could be. They left him unrested, jittery and- more than once- painfully aroused.

The day that concluded his first week of hiding found William standing in his study, staring at the wall behind his desk, seriously pondering to slam his head against it, just to get rid of the images and thoughts that plagued him constantly. When a distinctive knock sounded through the house, he blinked in confusion, briefly wondering if he'd actually done the deed without even realising it. The knock sounded again, tearing a harsh laugh from his dry throat- obviously he was well on his way to going absolutely mad. With this disconcerting notion, he turned around and slowly went to answer the door.

Chapter 16 - Part 2

William's astonishment couldn't have been more profound if a band of angels had been standing at his doorstep. As it was, his cousin Anne stood before him, smiling up at him, her startingly blue eyes sparkling happily. "Well, hello there, Billy Boy."

When he didn't answer, but kept staring, she leaned forward and reached up to push his jaw shut with a gentle nudge of her index finger: "Better close your mouth, dear- it's friggin cold outside. We wouldn't want you to get a sore throat now, would we?" With that she swept past him, the cold air following in her wake finally bringing him back to his senses.

He closed the door with a thud and turned around, ready to demand an explanation for her intrusion. As he took in her stance, however, he bit back his question and watched her warily. She'd already disposed of her coat and half sat, half leaned on the small table that carried his car key, wallet and several letters he hadn't yet bothered to open. Spine very straight, hands jammed to her slender waist, she looked him over from head to toe and back up again, squarely meeting his dark gaze. "You look like shit, Billy Boy."

Taking her remark for the admonition it clearly was, he immediately became defensive. "None of your business," he growled, crossing his arms over his chest, readying himself for another one the discussions he'd come to hate of late. When seconds passed by in tense silence, he finally spoke up. "What are you doing here, anyway? How did you find me?"

Anne couldn't suppress a sly smile at his harsh question, as she rose and went into the living room, leaving him to follow her, should he require an answer. She was about to sit down and make herself comfortable when he appeared in the doorway. "Well?" he prompted.

"Don't you remember when we used to play hide and seek as children? I always found you, no matter how well you thought you were hidden. I seem to have some kind of tracking radar when it comes to you."

He snorted in response, strolling past the couch and over to the French window, facing away from her. "Very well, but this doesn't answer my first question. I'll have you know that I wish to be left alone."

"Bullshit!" Anne exclaimed fervidly, jumping up and joining him at his favourite place. "I'll have you know that you're in terrible need of company," she stated with determination, her narrowed eyes daring him to disagree. "Why, look at yourself! You look like a...a...goddam zombie- again! You can't seriously expect me to step back and watch you ruin yourself! Not this time- I won't!"

A corner of William's mouth lifted in a wry smile. "I appreciate your concern, Annie, really I do."

Raking a hand through his hair, he sighed deeply and returned his gaze to the window. "But I'm afraid there's nothing you can do to help me."

"Oh, but there is," Anne answered back, quickly bobbing her head to emphasise her statement, while she tugged at the front of his sweater to get his attention back. "Actually, we can help each other- that's why I'm here."

Though his brows arched sceptically, he couldn't suppress a shimmer of hope rising inside him as he looked down into her eager face. Then it occurred to him that her suggestion implied she knew why he'd gone into hiding. "Who told you?"

Anne didn't pretend not to understand him. "Let's sit down first. It may take me quite a while to explain. -And a drink would be good, too."

When they were seated comfortably side by side, each one with a glass in hand, Anne took a sip and cleared her throat. "Rick told me what happened- but not just to gossip, Billy," she added, quick to reassure when she saw him scowl, "please believe me, he really was worried about you. He almost begged me to help find you."

"Aw, come on Annie, no need to exaggerate," he chided gently. "I believe you anyway...and that was it? That made you fly all the way from London?"

"Well...no," she admitted. Her gaze fell away from his as she bowed her head and bit her lower lip. Finally she took a deep breath and looked up again. "Rather...Mum tipped the scales."

William's eyes widened in surprise. "Aunt Catherine? What's she got to do with it? She doesn't even know-" he stopped, frowned and went on, "unless, of course, Rick told her too...Dammit!"

He suddenly exploded and started to rise from his place. "Is there anyone he has not told yet?"

Anne, however, was quick to react and caught his arm, pulling him back down insistently. "Shh," she soothed him, "calm down, Billy. Let me explain."

He dropped back onto his seat heavily, his frown deepening as he glared at his cousin. "Could you do me a favour, Annie? Stop calling me Billy- I'm not ten anymore."

For just a second her face went blank, then a traitorous sparkle lit her eyes, as she managed to suppress her smile. "Oh...alright...William."

Normally he would have laughed about her anxious attempt at seriousness. However, with his nerves on edge, and in no mood for joking, he just grumbled: "Thank you," and once again crossed his arms over his chest. "Now tell me what the hell's been going on."

Anne nodded in agreement, took another sip from her glass and began her explanation. William listened in silence, staring into his lap the whole time. Except for an occasional clenching of his jaw or the tightening of the grip on his upper arms, he didn't move.

When Anne came to the end of her story, he was tense as a drawn bow. He stood up stiffly and walked back to the French doors to stare outside. His voice was low and strained when he finally asked: "She knew I was being watched?"

"Yes."

"And she did nothing about it?"

"No."

"She knew what Patricia was up to and again she did nothing? She could have prevented my worst nightmare from happening, yet..."

Sensing that he was about to explode any second, Anne kept her tone deliberately gentle. "But Mum did not know what Elizabeth means to you...she does now. She-"

William whirled around, eyes ablaze with fury, hectic colour staining his cheekbones. His right forefinger pointed at her accusingly. "It doesn't matter anymore! Don't you see that she might have ruined everything!" he shouted hoarsely while his throat tightened with rising tears.

Anne understood his ire all too well, her mother had made it an art form to enrage other people. She wanted to go to him and comfort him, but he stopped her with his raised hand, turning his palm toward her while the other wiped angrily over his wet cheek. "No!" he choked out and turned to the French window again. Holding on to the doorframe for support, he took a few steadying breaths.

When Anne thought he was back in control again, she broke the silence, trying to make amends. "Mum did wrong- and she knows. She's terribly sorry. I swear, I've never seen her more contrite. She regrets what she's done and she wants to make up for it- no matter how."

"Bit late, don't you think?" William replied with a snort, facing his cousin again. "Every other member of the family would have warned me, you know. But not your mother- oh no." His voice rose again, his temper impossible to contain. "How dare she presume to know what is best for me? I've never ever met anyone that self-righteous. Self-doubt surely isn't part of her vocabulary!"

"I know exactly how you feel, Will, believe me," Anne confessed sadly, her eyes full of sympathy. She reached out for him, silently inviting him to return to her side. After hesitating briefly, he sat down with a deep-drawn sigh. "That's just how she is, Will. But she means well. You know she's not malicious-" she paused for a second, "well, at least not deliberately...or so I think."

William's failure to react to her dashed any hope of lightening up his mood. She even thought he might not have heard her. His quiet answer proved her wrong. "Chances are she's ruined my life with that damned attitude..."

Impulsively Anne put her arms around him and hugged him tightly. "No, William, you mustn't let yourself think so. I admit that she has made it more difficult, but not everything's lost yet."

"I wish I could be more optimistic, but as it is..." he shrugged while his voice trailed off.

"Hey Billy Boy, if your Elizabeth loves you only half as much as you love her, everything will turn out just fine."

William exhaled on a shuddering breath. "I hope she does- I really hope she does." He cast her a sideways glance. "You called me Billy Boy again."

Anne pressed her lips together, struggling to look sheepish rather than good-humoured. "I'm sorry, William- I'll try not to do it again, I promise."

Her meek attempt to apologise finally elicited a small smile from William. "You Annie dear, are incorrigible."

She leaned forward and pressed a smacking kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, what a nice thing to say."

His smile turned into a grin. "You're welcome- now tell me why you really came here. Surely not just to cheer me up."

"Now there's a good reason," Anne retorted, lightly touching his cheek. "You should smile more often, you know. Makes you all the more...delectable."

William chuckled and removed her hand from his face to hold it between his. "Stop it, Annie. I'm trying to be serious here."

"Alright, alright," she muttered. "But please hear me out before you explode again." She took a deep breath and drew her hand from his grasp. Her eyes narrowed in anticipation of his fierce reaction as she brought forward her request. "I want you to come back home with me."

He, however, remained perfectly calm. All he did was shake his head, looking at her with the unhappiest she'd ever seen. "Oh Annie, I wish I could...I'd really like to, believe me, but I just can't...not yet."

Anne's heart went out to him when she realised how profoundly miserable he was. That very moment she decided that she would take him back home with her; and if it meant knocking him out and dragging him all the way, so be it. She wouldn't allow him to stay by himself- not even for another minute.

"You've been away for a week now, haven't you?" she asked quietly, waiting for his confirming nod. "Don't you think that's long enough for a girl to make up her mind?"

William shrugged and rubbed his face with both hands. "I wish I knew..." he sighed. "But I don't want to rush her, and I would if I got anywhere near her. So you see, I just can't go back yet..."

"Bullshit!" came Anne's swift reply, causing his eyes to widen in surprise. "I'll bet my sassy arse- which I'm actually very fond of- that the girl's already desperately waiting for you to show up." He opened his mouth to cut in, but she stopped him with a decisive shake of her wrist. "And if that's not enough to tempt you, here's another good reason: I need you to accompany me to a fund-raiser- tonight, with Mum," she finished briskly.

William sat in stunned silence, still staring, struggling to process this new piece of information. What he finally came up with was not exactly what he'd intended to say. "You know, that filthy mouth of yours is eventually going to get you deep into trouble."

Anne smiled, but otherwise ignored his remark. "So what d'you think, William?" At that she gave him a very smug look. "Care to join us?"

He paid her back by eluding her questions and posed his own. "This is why you really came? To invite me to a fund-raiser?" he asked incredulously.

She rolled her eyes heavenward as if praying for patience. "That- and the fact that you obviously need me to clear out your befuddled brain. You've been alone here far too long, and being alone never did you any good."

"Point taken," he conceded grudgingly. "Though right now I'm not really fond of seeing your dear mother."

Anne tried hard not to show too much excitement. "Does this mean you're coming?"

Instead of answering immediately, William braced his elbows on his thighs and stared down on the floor in contemplation. He'd planned on staying a few days longer- another week maybe... but now the thought of being alone again filled him with dread. He didn't think he could stand it without going crazy. Truth be told, he knew very well that he'd reached the limit of endurance. -And maybe Anne was right, Elizabeth could have decided already...and even if not, he might as well wait at home. If he only tried hard enough, he'd surely manage to stay away from her...

Watching him closely, Anne took in the various emotions that skimmed across his face in close succession. After endless moments, his expression finally brightened as if a dark veil had been lifted from his features. She knew then that she'd achieved her aim and it took all her willpower not to break out in cheers and jump with joy, but to wait for him to announce his decision. Yet, she couldn't contain a content smile- this had been much easier than she'd expected.

William lifted his head, feeling more at ease than he had in a long time. When he saw Anne's obvious self-satisfaction, however, he felt the sudden urge to tease her for her smugness.

Keeping his face very straight, turning his expression as sheepish as possible, he asked: "But are you sure you want me to come? Why not take your girl-friend to the fund-raiser, as your date?"

Anne's jaw dropped in surprise while her eyes went wide. She stared at him as if she thought he'd lost his marbles. "Are you crazy?" she finally choked out. Seemingly hurt, William looked back to the floor. "Take Cecily with me when Mum's also in attendance? I might as well wave a red flag before a bull's eyes. You know exactly that she's gone into complete denial when it comes to my sexual inclination. She'd have a major fit of-"

She stopped abruptly, her surprise ending in smoke as her narrowing gaze rested on William's shaking shoulders. He was laughing! With a snort she punched her fist into his biceps, toppling him over to his side. "You...you bloody bastard," she scoffed.

William was lying halfway across the couch, holding his stomach, his deep laughter resounding throughout the room. "I'm...I'm sorry," he wheezed. "Just...just couldn't resist." He sat up slowly, gulping in air, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "You should've seen your face..." he pointed a finger at her and began laughing again.

Anne crossed her arms over her chest. "You took me by surprise, is all," she stated, her voice not as firm as she'd intended it to be. But then, she'd never been able to be really angry with him; and his merriment was quite infectious too. It took her only a few seconds to let go of her grudge and watch him in genuine amusement as he fought to compose himself.

When he'd calmed down, he looked back at her. "You knew I wouldn't say no, didn't you?"

"I didn't know, but I hoped," she replied and scooted closer to embrace him once again. "And now I'm happy it all worked out and paid off- every single woman at that fund-raiser will be green with envy of my gorgeous date. I'm going to show you off, you know."

He chuckled and hugged her back. "I'm looking forward to it. -Thanks for coming anyway- and for saving me." He kissed her forehead in gratitude and released her, getting to his feet with unusual verve. "Guess I'd better hurry up now, or we won't make it back to London in time." He waved and winked and all but raced from the room to collect his belongings.

Anne leaned back with a sigh and closed her eyes to better savour the rare feeling of pure contentment with herself and the world in general. She remained like that for a few seconds, then she sighed again and took her mobile out of her pocket to call the pilot awaiting them at the airport.

Chapter 16 - Part 3

Elizabeth looked around the huge, elegant room that was crowded with people and buzzing with music, voices and laughter. She'd never before felt uneasy amongst others and wondered why she did now. It was inexplicable, as was the strange sense of trepidation that rolled through her stomach in small waves. Yet, out of nowhere it had attacked her immediately upon entering the hotel.

Considering the bad temper she'd been in all afternoon, she hadn't been overly happy about the prospect of coming here tonight. She was still angry about William's secretary- irrationally so, since the woman had only done her job- and she was highly frustrated about the impossibility to get in touch with him; moreover, her recalcitrant memory annoyed her to no end. But weeks ago she'd promised her old friend Francis Lucas to accompany him to this fund-raiser and, despite her low spirits, hadn't had the heart to disappoint him. In the end, she'd told herself that she might as well use the evening as a distraction from her worries and enjoy it as best she could.

It had almost worked. The ride to London in Francis' limousine had done a lot to help her relax. As if he'd known what she needed, he'd kept the conversation light, choosing topics not more demanding than the antics of the numerous dogs and horses he owned. She'd had a very good time, her mood improving considerably, until she'd actually been looking forward to the pending event.

Yet now, only minutes after their arrival, she felt even worse than she had before leaving home. Francis must have sensed it too, because he'd immediately offered to fetch her a glass of wine, presumably hoping it would help loosen her up again. While she was waiting for his return, she fervently wished she'd declined his invitation after all. She was jumpy and nervous, as taut as a drawstring, and irked that she couldn't think of a good reason why she should feel so. Minutes passed by until she finally saw him approaching her, carefully balancing two cut glasses filled with red wine. The crowd moved and parted to make room for him, providing her with new vistas. As a gape opened to her right side, she caught a glimpse of a pair of broad shoulders in a navy blue suit, and above it a head full of dark brown, curly hair. 'William', his name whispered through her whole body, making her insides lurch and her vision blur. She blinked, refocused- and he was gone, replaced by a man with grey hair in a black suit.

"Oh, god- I'm losing my mind..." Elizabeth groaned quietly and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to conceive what had just happened.

"Are you alright, Liz?" She almost jumped out of her skin with shock when Francis addressed her quietly. Her eyes flew open again to find him watching her closely.

"Seems you're in terrible need of a drink," he stated as he handed her a glass. "Sorry it took me so long- lots of thirsty people around."

Elizabeth grabbed her drink and almost finished it off with two long draughts.

"Whoa, careful girl," Francis admonished gently, pushing her hand down to keep her from draining the glass completely. "Slow down, you know you tend to behave indecently when you're drunk. You'd embarrass yourself."

She acknowledged his argument with a negligent shrug. "Who cares? I'm about to go crazy anyway."

Francis eyed her curiously, but didn't press the point. "Alright then, let's go and get something to eat...Causing a scene will cost a lot of strength."

Elizabeth was still too rattled to manage more than a wry smile. Without resistance, she let him take her elbow and lead her to the opulent buffet.

~ * ~

During the flight home William was bothered by second thoughts. Though it felt wonderful to go back, he wondered if it really was the right thing to do.

He knew beyond a doubt that he'd deceived himself by thinking he would be able to stay away from Elizabeth once he was so near to her again. But had he given her enough time? Did one week suffice to come to a decision about one's future- their future, for that matter?

On the other hand, if Anne was right, if Elizabeth loved him only half as much as he loved her, she would already have made up her mind...to give him another chance. After all, it was either yes or no- nothing in-between. And yet, what a difference it would make; brightness or gloom, warmth or deadness, happiness or grief.

As much as he dreaded her answer, he knew he needed it. He'd realised before that he couldn't go on like this; the uncertainty was killing him. No matter where he was or what he did, nothing but certainty could make him feel better- or worse. Either way, he couldn't wait any longer... Drawing a deep sigh, he resolved to approach her as soon as possible- preferably right after his arrival. A look at his wristwatch, however, told him that they were already running out of time. He pondered calling her, but quickly discarded the idea. This was just too important to be discussed over the phone. And once he heard her voice again, nothing would keep him away from her. As he realised that he'd have to wait yet another day, he cursed viciously under his breath.

Across from him, Anne stirred at the sound of his voice. She'd gone to sleep almost immediately after take-off, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He hadn't meant to disturb her, yet he felt strangely relieved when she stretched and yawned and finally gave him a drowsy smile. "I'm sorry I fell asleep, William. I don't know what's come over me..."

He smiled back at her, glad for the distraction she provided. "You always doze off on the plane." "True," she admitted while she sat up straight and ran her hands over her clothes in an effort to smooth them. Furrowing her brow in annoyance, she looked down at herself. "That's why I always look an awful mess after a flight. I haven't yet managed to find something really comfortable to wear that does not wrinkle."

They chatted and joked for the rest of the journey and with Annie's help, William began to relax until he actually looked forward to the forthcoming evening.

A few hours later, as he stood amidst the other guests in the hotel's huge ballroom, a glass of wine in hand and Anne by his side, he found that he was really enjoying himself. To his own surprise, not even the surrounding crowd of people bothered him. Shrugging mentally, he put it down to the fact that he'd been all alone for a whole week and turned his attention back to Anne. Conversing politely with two elderly couples, the Ellises and the Harrisons, whom they'd both known since childhood, she appeared to be on her best behaviour. Actually she was on her best behaviour, except that she clung tightly to his arm, practically snuggled up against his side, casting him an occasional sideways glance adorned with a tiny secretive smile. Her unrestrained show of affection bordered on immodesty, but William knew better than to take her seriously. It was meant to provoke her mother who stood to her other side, and considering Lady Catherine's strained expression, it worked.

Those who were acquainted with his aunt knew about her hopes for her daughter and nephew. And although it was common knowledge that Anne de Bourgh shared her house with another female, only closest friends and family were aware of how far that sharing actually went. Lady Catherine, however, was the only one who refused to accept that her hopes were for naught. Since she was deaf to sensible arguments, Anne used every opportunity to pay back none to sublty for her mother's stubborn ignorance.

Normally William resented being part of Anne's ploys but in his current mood he thought his aunt deserved to be tortured and he loved to join in. It hadn't been easy to face her after he'd learned what she'd done. On first impulse, he'd wanted to confront her. Only with regard to the upcoming evening had he refrained from starting a quarrel- but postponed was not abandoned. He had no intention of letting her get away so easily, and judging from the way Lady Catherine treated him, she also knew that the truce was strictly limited.

His thoughts occupied with what he was going to say to his aunt in a confrontation that would surely come, he felt a strange sensation running up his spine. It tingled and prickled its way up to settle in his neck and make the fine hairs there stand on end. Automatically his hand went to his nape to curb the tingling while his brows furrowed in irritation. Not a split second later he was flooded with memories of his father's funeral as he realised that he knew this feeling- Elizabeth! Without second thought, he turned around eagerly to skim the crowd with narrowed eyes, oblivious to the fact that he'd dragged Anne with him.

Struggling not to trip over her own feet, she looked up at him in surprise. His features were set in concentration while his gaze darted back and forth across the room, as if he were searching for someone. "William," she whispered, unlike him, conscious of the curious stares that rested upon them. When he didn't react, she repeated his name insistently and tugged at his arm.

Abruptly he lowered his head, his eyes piercing hers, his brows lowered in irritation about being disturbed. "What?" he snapped.

She didn't flinch from his anger but met his heated gaze evenly and pointed out in a quiet voice: "We're attracting undue attention, William."

Slowly the frown lifted from his face as her remark sank in. A fine blush crept into his cheeks and he shook his head in utter astonishment about himself. "I'm sorry," he murmured helplessly. "I thought..." he faltered, his gaze falling away from Anne's. Not willing to explain his strange behaviour, he just gave a small shrug.

"Never mind," Anne stated, patting his arm reassuringly. She leaned closer to him and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "But I've a feeling they," she slightly inclined her head in the direction of her mother and the two couples still standing close behind them, "are waiting for us to turn around again...if we do it really slow, do you think you can come up with a believeable excuse?"

William looked back at her, saw the sparkle of mischief in her eyes and couldn't help but smile despite his uneasiness. She grinned and mouthed: "Ready?"

He squared his shoulders, put on his haughtiest face and nodded in determination. She nodded back and they began to swivel around gracefully. As soon as they were facing the others again, William met their curiousity head-on, looking down his nose at them. "I thought I heard someone call my name," he declared coolly. And then, seemingly as an afterthought, he added. "I'm sorry about the interruption."

They all rushed into accepting his halfhearted apology, assuring him that they quite understood and didn't mind in the least. After an awkward little pause, Anne addressed Mrs. Ellis, asking about her grandchildren and soon the conversation was back on track again as if nothing had ever happened.

William, however, couldn't forget the incident as easily as that. Outwardly he appeared to follow the polite small talk, when in truth his rioting thoughts rendered him incapable of concentrating on what was said. He could have sworn that he'd felt Elizabeth's gaze upon him. Yet, he hadn't been able to locate her. Could it be that his imagination had played a dirty trick on him? -But it had seemed far too real to be an illusion. On the other hand, all things considered, it was not at all impossible that he imagined things. For weeks now she'd ruled his thoughts, no matter where he was or what he did- why should it be any different tonight?

With a deep sigh, he called on his common sense and hoped it would help him to stay sane until the next day when he planned to see Elizabeth again. 'Less than 24 hours,' he reminded himself silently and everything would be better because, one way or the other, his situation couldn't get much worse than it already was.

To Elizabeth's great relief, the evening progressed without further incident. She was still not sure what had happened, though. Every now and then her eyes surveyed the crowd, but there was of course no sign of William. Evidently his sudden appearance had been nothing but a figment of her imagination, which in truth was not really remarkable since she'd spent the better part of the past few days thinking about him. Still somewhat unsettled though, she was glad that Francis had chosen a table a bit to the side rather then in the middle of the room, and thus had once again shown his distinctive intuition- one of the things she really liked about him. Moreover, he'd kept her from getting drunk, too. Gently, yet determinedly, he'd taken the glass of wine away from her and exchanged it for a glass of orange juice which she now sipped slowly.

The object of her musings interrupted her thoughts by leaning forward and putting a hand on her arm. "And here comes the evening's partoness, our grand hostess Lady Catherine de Bourgh," he murmured and drew Elizabeth's attention to the impressive stage that took up the front side of the room.

The major part of its expanse was prepared for a band with drums already set up, chairs and music-stands laden with sheets of music, while in the foreground they'd set up a small lectern with a microphone. Behind it stood Lady de Bourgh, spine very straight, hands clasped loosely at her waist, cutting an imposing figure despite her smallness. When people became aware of her, they hurried to take their places, creating a great commotion with shifting chairs, rustling clothes and murmuring voices.

Elizabeth watched the whole scene in slight bemusement. It was quite interesting to see people literally jump at the silent orders of so short a person. To own the truth, though, what Lady de Bourgh lacked in height, she made up for with poise and charisma; she seemed to breathe power- and in all likelihood, she did too. While Elizabeth studied her closely, she came to the conclusion that there was much of Lady de Bourgh to be found in William, especially at those times when he wore his social mask.

Although she'd seen Lady Catherine at Andrew Darcy's funeral- and at a few other occasions in the past too- the striking resemblance between aunt and nephew had never occurred to her before. Yet, it was all there, from the rigidly set shoulders to the posture of the head and the reserved attitude with the faintest hint at condescension. It made her wonder if, in fact, they were anything alike in character too.

Elizabeth was so engrossed in her observations, she hardly realise that the crowd had gone quiet to listen to Lady de Bourgh's speech. All she perceived was the singsong of a voice ringing throughout the room, but her preoccupied mind didn't catch the meaning of what was actually said- until one particular word penetrated her thoughts and immediately attracted her attention. Lady de Bourgh was obviously talking about her nephews. "...which unfortunately prevented him from coming. My youngest nephew, however, second chairman of our foundation, is here with us tonight. Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. William Darcy."

Elizabeth's heart seemed to drop to her stomach while her head jerked into the direction Lady de Bourgh's hand indicated. So she hadn't imagined things after all, he was really here! But where? She craned her neck to get a glimpse of him, ready to jump up from her seat for a better view when William rose from his chair. Her breath caught at the sight of him, towering above the crowd, a hand raised in greeting, accepting the generous applause.

The uneasiness faded as relief washed through her and brought a smile to her face. Very soon now everything would be alright. She didn't even care where he'd been or what had made him come back, she just wanted to rush to him and lose herself in his embrace. And if not for all the potential gapers surrounding them, she would have done so immediately. But since she didn't want any spectators for their reunion- and neither would William- she began to think of a way to catch him alone.

Brows furrowed in contemplation, she kept her gaze on him, watching his every move. When he lifted his fingers to his cheek to rub the spot her eyes had rested on not a second ago, she had to smile anew- he still felt it. Seeing him turn his head into her direction, she leaned back in her chair to hide in the shadows as best she could, not wanting to betray her presence and ruin the surprise she was about to give him.

Fortunately, though, he was distracted by someone tugging on his sleeve, and he turned away again, finally sitting back down. Elizabeth leaned forward, peeking around people, so as not to lose sight of him, when she saw who he'd reacted to so quickly. A beautiful red-haired woman sat close by his side, his hand enveloping hers, which he now lifted to brush his lips over her knuckles. The smile still lingering on Elizabeth's face froze in place- he was with someone else! What happened next made her smile fade for good while the colour drained from her face. The strange woman leaned closer to William and placed a lingering kiss on his cheek, then she drew back and gave him a die-away look. Elizabeth felt like choking, until she realised that she'd been holding her breath. Gasping she fought to get air into her constricted lungs.

Francis must have heard her, because he turned toward her and reached for her hand. "Lizzy, good heavens! What's the matter with you? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

She could only shake her head, too preoccupied to form a coherent answer. Questions, fears and speculations rushed through her mind in close succession, one leading to another, growing in persistence as they went until she felt the urge to scream. Closing her eyes to the disturbing sight of William and his female escort, she desperately searched for something to concentrate on instead. When she became aware of Francis stroking her hand, she focused her attention on his consistent caress- back and forth, back and forth...

Elizabeth adjusted her breathing to the steady rhythm, thus regaining control bit by bit and finally finding the strength to push her thoughts to the edge of her consciousness to deal with them later, when she was back at Longbourn, alone in her room- which made getting there her prime object.

About to ask Francis to take her home, she turned to him and opened her eyes. And found him looking back at her with furrowed brows.

"You really look awful, Lizzy," he stated bluntly before she had a chance to say anything.

Despite herself she had to smile. "Well, thank you for the compliment, you really know how to charm a girl."

"I'm sorry for being so forthright," gazing at her sheepishly, he squeezed her hand. "I'm just worried about you."

"I know, Francis- it's alright. And I do feel awful."

"Do you want to go home?"

She nodded. "Would you mind terribly? I don't want to ruin your evening-"

Francis interrupted her with a wave of his hand. "Stop right there! Nothing to regret; we ate, we drank," he stood up and pulled her from her seat in the same motion, "we didn't dance, though- now that's something to regret- and I did what I was invited for, I donated." Smiling down at her, he took her hand more firmly into his. "Actually, I was starting to get bored."

Elizabeth smiled back at him, once again thankful for his loyal friendship. When he started into the direction of the main entrance, however, she immediately offered resistance. On their way they would have to pass by William's table, and she was afraid that he might see her, or that she might cast another glance at him- both possibilities threatening to destroy her fragile control.

Francis stopped and turned to look at her enquiringly. "What is it? You don't want to leave?" "I do, very much. But please, could we use the side entrance? I don't want to..." she trailed off, unwilling- and unable- to explain her peculiar request.

To her relief, Francis just shrugged and pulled out his mobile. "Alright, let's go then. I'll call Henry and tell him to meet us there."

Assuaged, Elizabeth led the way and he followed while dialling the number of the car phone.

Chapter 17 - Part 1

Well past midnight, Lady Catherine sat in front of her toilet-table in her elegant bedroom and brushed out her hair. She'd left the fund-raiser about an hour ago under the pretext of tiredness- a rather lame excuse considering that she was famous for her stamina; known to be the first to come and the last to go whenever she hosted a social function.

Nevertheless no one had questioned her unusual conduct, which she ascribed to the fact that people simply weren't used to challenging Lady Catherine de Bourgh's decisions. She'd been slightly surprised, though, that Anne and William had not protested either. To own the truth, however, in this case their indifference suited her just fine. Even if they would have asked for an explanation, she couldn't have told them the truth anyway- at least not yet.

First she'd have to decide whether or not to do something about what she'd observed earlier that evening. The brush stopped in midair before slowly sinking onto the table as she closed her eyes and recalled the events that kept her mind busy for hours now.

Due to her heightened position on the stage she'd had an excellent view over the entire room. By pure chance, she'd spotted Elizabeth Baxter-Harding the moment William had risen from his chair. The young woman's expression had been one of utter surprise as she twisted around in her seat, almost jumping up in the process, to get a better view.

From that point on, looking back and forth between the two of them, Lady Catherine had watched the whole drama unfold. While William had been blissfully oblivious to what was going on, Elizabeth had been put through a series of emotions showing clearly on her face.

Upon observing the intimate t괥-୴괥 between Anne and William, she'd turned pale and had finally closed her eyes. Lady Catherine had been tempted almost beyond endurance to shout at her daughter to stop the idiocy and let go of William. Only her strong belief in proper behaviour had kept her from giving in to her urge- this was a private affair, after all, and she meant to keep it as such.

Opening her eyes again, Lady Catherine stared at her own reflection while her heart twisted painfully in sympathy with the hurt Elizabeth must have felt. She was a little surprised about herself, since- in all honesty- she couldn't remember when she'd last cared so much for anyone else's feelings.

But then, no one had ever dared to be so blunt in his opinion as Richard had just a few days ago. He made her see the errors of her ways, her overbearing demeanour where other people were concerned. Obviously his words had taken root inside her, softening her to a degree she hadn't thought possible anymore. She smiled at herself as she shook her head in slight disbelief. Actually, she'd even experienced an unmistakeable twinge of conscience for not telling William about his beloved's presence, neither before nor after she'd left the scene quite hastily with her companion in tow.

"Not that it really matters," Lady Catherine muttered and rose from her chair. She'd come to realise that she was as much a slave to her habits as the next best person, seeing that she'd once again taken heed of ulterior motives rather than of her newly found sensitivity. With a sigh she walked over to her bed and sat down on the edge, hands folded in her lap.

Deep down inside she knew that informing William would have been the honest thing to do, but for her own reasons she'd thought it unwise to do so. Firstly she couldn't but think that Elizabeth hadn't been of a mind to listen to William's explanations, given her intense reaction to what she'd been forced to witness; secondly, she'd immediately seen a chance- not a good one, mind you, but a chance nonetheless- to redeem herself and make up for her former interference which had been imperative in separating her nephew from the woman he loved. The only way, however, to put her idea into action, she'd discovered with dismay, was to interfere once again. At the irony of the situation a sound escaped her that was half snort, half sigh. William hadn't been all too happy about her meddling- if she put it mildly. Actually, when they met at the fund-raiser his behaviour toward her had been barely civil, showing her in round terms that she was in for a fierce scolding at the first appropriate opportunity. But with any luck, she would be able to forestall him and quench his anger before he could pour it out over her head- though he would be in the right of it.

Blinded by Elizabeth Baxter-Harding's past behaviour towards her nephew, she'd been totally wrong in her assessment of the young woman's character, and as a logical consequence, she hadn't bothered to look closer into their relationship. Although she'd known about their mutual attraction since the day of Andrew's funeral, she'd dismissed it carelessly as nothing but an insignificant fling which she'd meant to scotch anyway, before it could develop into something serious. Not once had it occurred to her that they could really be in love...

'Stupid mistake,' Lady Catherine admonished herself silently. Too restless to remain seated, she stood up again and began to pace up and down. Normally it wasn't like her to overlook details of such prime importance, and it annoyed her to no end that it had happened for the first time in this rather delicate case where members of her family were concerned. Squaring her shoulders, she took a calming breath and ruthlessly suppressed her anger, aware that she needed a clear head to carefully plan her next steps.

If she wanted to make efficient use of the situation, she'd have to move quickly- the sooner she managed to bring them back together, the better for everyone involved; Elizabeth would be freed of her uncertainty before it could lead to the wrong conclusions, while William wouldn't be given enough time to stoke his anger into a full conflagration. Once reunited with his beloved, he would be too preoccupied to care much about his aunt's doings- although she knew exactly that William could be quite resentful at times. Anyhow, she also knew that she deserved at least a mild reproof for the way she'd acted, or rather- for the way she'd not acted. Therefore, all things considered, approaching William was out of the question. She'd have to talk to Elizabeth, explain the situation, and own up to her share in creating the current mess. At the thought of having to face her failure head-on, Lady Catherine stopped midstride and bit down hard on her lower lip. It was indeed a disconcerting notion, even more so since she'd have to confess to a virtual stranger- with no possibility at all to predict her opponent's reaction.

With impatient fingers she undid the belt of her dressing gown, slipped out of the garment and threw it negligently onto the chair she'd been sitting on before. There really wasn't anything she knew about Elizabeth, other than that she was obviously very much in love with William, which she'd witnessed firsthand. As to the woman's character, however, she was literally without a clue.

God, she hated having to put herself at someone else's mercy- and being quite helpless to do anything about it. To her utter amazement, Lady Catherine felt her lips curl into a pout while suddenly the urge to stomp her foot became almost overwhelming, making her feel much like a petulant child. In order to keep herself from carrying out the disgraceful exercise- even though she was all alone such behaviour simply wouldn't do- she quickly clambered onto her bed with an agility that completely belied her age. As she sat in the middle of the wide mattress, the ridiculousness of her conduct finally caught up with her and she broke out in heartfelt laughter. It took her a while to recover enough so she could return to the very important task at hand. No matter what it would cost her, she'd have to face Elizabeth- but not before making sure that her nephew would be nowhere around when she did so. Now that he was back, she suspected that he would rush to his beloved's side first thing in the morning. Of course she'd have to await the outcome of this conversation before she could make her first move. And that, in fact, was the hole in her plan, because it was still possible that the two of them could work everthing out on their own.

She moved around on the bed until she was propped against the headboard with a pillow stuffed behind her back and a blanket draped across her legs. Her brows were drawn together in deep contemplation, until she finally shook her head. No, she told herself firmly- if she would really believe that they didn't need her help, she could give up her plan on the spot and instead start to think up a very good explanation for the inevitable confrontation with her furious nephew. But she was not yet ready to do that. For now it would be better to act on a worst case assumption- at least the worst case for Elizabeth and William- and deal with any kind of different scenarios if they should indeed come to pass; flexibility would be called for.

Lady Catherine sighed in contentment and allowed herself a slight smile as she relaxed against the pillow. Now that the path ahead was more or less clear, she could really start to plan each careful step...

Elizabeth was totally confused- nothing made sense anymore. She sat on her bed, knees drawn up to her body, arms locked around them and stared into the darkness of her room as she tried to come to terms with the events of the past evening.

William was back in England. When had he returned? And why hadn't he come to see her? Had somehow notified her that he was back? But then, what if...he'd never been gone? At that notion, she shook her head vigorously- she wouldn't let herself dwell on such a thought- surely he had been out of the country. Then again, if he loved her as much as he'd claimed- both verbally and in writing- he did, his first way after coming back should have brought him to her, shouldn't it. Yet, she'd had to find out by mere chance that he'd actually returned. She seriously wondered how long it would have taken him to approach her...or would he ever have? He'd been with another woman- a beautiful woman, whose company he'd openly enjoyed. From the looks of it, they were very familiar with each other, relaxed and comfortable in each other's company. So who was this stranger? A friend- or even more than that? Her successor maybe? As much as the idea hurt- and it did, heartwrenchingly so- Elizabeth couldn't rule it out entirely, for she'd indeed given William a hard time in dealing with her. Caught up in the roller coaster of her emotions, she'd sent him on a ride of his own, either dragging him up or pulling him down with her. Would it really be that surprising if he'd finally decided to back out?

She heaved a trembling sigh and squeezed her eyes shut. No, indeed, it wouldn't be. In fact, she could even relate to such a reaction. There were easier ways to form a relationship, without a laden past lurking in the darkness, waiting to attack at the most unsuitable moment like some erratic jack-in-the-box. The image should have been funny, but actually it was annoying- and painful.

Despite the hurt, however, she realised that she understood why he would have found himself someone else- simply because he needed someone to cheer him up instead of making him feel miserable. And he deserved to be happy more than anyone else she knew. 'Except for yourself,' a quiet voice from somewhere deep inside her soul interjected. Though part of her knew it to be true, the major part considered such a thought to be purely selfish, so she pushed it aside determinedly. She'd had her share of happiness so far, actually throughout her whole childhood and youth, and even in her marriage- before it had gone totally awry. Whereas William...she doubted that he'd ever been happy more than just a few hours at a time.

She was well aware now that not even at Netherfield had he been totally carefree, given that he'd known of their strained past while she'd been still blissfully oblivious. Yet, there had been moments...A flood of heat suffused her body and sent a distinctive blush to her face as she remembered some of these moments. Pressing her hands to her burning cheeks, she let the images wash over her with all the force they held. William's face above hers, as if suspended in the darkness of their room; then beneath hers, his dark hair in stark contrast to the white pillow-case, their bodies joined most intimately in either position, rocking, straining to completion, and all the while his eyes holding hers, shiny with desire, joy and tenderness. Yes, they'd both been happy then, and she missed that so much- missed him so much- it hurt physically.

With a groan, she streched out her legs and tightly hugged her middle, bending forward as her stomach clenched in pain. It had been so much more than just sex- they'd made love. Or at least she had. As for him...but surely she couldn't have imagined that he'd felt the same- he'd even said it. In fact, he'd said it first and she'd merely answered in kind. But then again- stranger things have been said in the throes of passion.

Hurt and desperation suddenly turned to cold fury at the thought of his fickleness and before she could hold back, she heard herself utter a vicious curse. It echoed in the silence, boucing off the walls and jumping back into her face, its ferocity stunning her into absolute stillness. Endless seconds ticked by before her body and mind managed to shake off the paralysis until she was finally able to clamp a hand across her mouth while her thoughts ran rampant, letting loose with a string of harsh admonitions: 'A bit too late, don't you think? What a nasty thing to say! Where's your composure gone, Miss Prudence? And since when do you expect the worst from anyone? What has become of : 'I love him, I believe him- and I trust in his love for me.'? Where's that trust of yours now?'

Elizabeth lowered herself to her back, slowly rolled to her side and curled up into a ball. Indeed, where was her trust in the man she loved with all her heart? Vanished into thin air because of- what? Unfair presumptions? Wrongful suspicions? But it had been there for all the world to see, hadn't it? So what was she to think? With their relationship being as it was- fragile at best- how could she not doubt his sincerity? She guessed that she'd given up on starry-eyed naivete the day she'd found out about Tom's cheating- something she didn't yet remember. But it sure made sense.

She sighed deeply, shifting her body until she could crawl under her blanket and draw it up to her ears. How was she to come up with a logical explanation when for every argument there was a counter-argument? And for all her questions nothing but confusing answers. How could she know which was the right one? Finally she admitted that she wouldn't find out on her own, that she'd have to ask William. He was the only one who had the correct answers. If she wanted certainty-either way- he was the only one who could give it.

As she considered how- and when- to approach him, dread filled her at the thought of another dispute. God, she hated to argue with him when all she really wanted was to love him and be loved in return. Suddenly a wave of fatigue swept through her, making her limbs go heavy and her brain fuzzy. 'Tomorrow', she told herself silently, 'I'll think about it tomorrow...' And then sleep overpowered her.

Chapter 17 - Part 2

Only a few hours later, Elizabeth was awake again. Clad in her dressing-gown, she sat on the window sill in her room and stared outside- like she'd done so often during the past few weeks. After parting with William at Netherfield, she'd discovered on more than one occasion that this was a perfect place to gather her thoughts and come to terms with her emotions. And yet again she was in desperate need of the calm and security it provided.

She'd had another dream, and like the ones before, it had brought back another part of her memory. This part she'd considered to be so vital that she'd really longed to remember- but now she wished she didn't. Word for word the vigorous fight she'd had with William about Tom's then asserted infidelity replayed in her mind, leaving her feeling more stupid and mortified with every repetition. On a deep sigh she closed her eyes and let the memory wash over her.

William Darcy was indeed the very last person she would have expected to show up on her doorstep. Yet, there he was, looking down at her, his expression as hooded as usual, without the slightest sign of distress or remorse.

On first impulse, she wanted to throw the door closed again, right into his carefully blank face. After a brief struggle, though, curiosity got the better of her. What did he want? All she could think of was...

"Patricia is not here right now. If you want to-"

He cut in on her words rather rudely. "Actually, I've come to talk to you..."

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "About?"

"About what happened yesterday. I believe that you've been deliberately misinformed."

She crossed her arms in defiance. "How so?"

"I don't think we should discuss this here," he gestured towards the staircase. "May I come in?"

Elizabeth hesitated briefly, but finally she gave a curt nod. "Alright." She turned abruptly and left it to him to close the door and follow her into the living room.

When he stepped in, she stood facing him, all but tapping a foot in impatience. "So?"

"Would you please tell me what you know so far?" he asked.

Of all the things she'd imagined him to come up with, this was the most unexpected. She did a bad job of hiding her surprise. "You really want me to repeat what I've been told?"

"Yes- I know it must be quite...unpleasant for you, but..."

"Not at all, not for me. I can't imagine, though, why you would want to hear it. I mean, you've been there..."

But he just looked at her, giving her a faint shrug. She mimicked his gesture, more pronounced though, and with an impatient sigh did as he bade. "They caught you...in bed- with another woman, in the middle of the day in your apartment."

With a huff, he went past her to stand in front of the window and stare outside. She couldn't quite gauge the sound he'd made. What did it stem from? Anger or distress? Not that it really mattered. "You wanted me to tell you..."

Without turning around, he said something. At first she thought she'd misheard, but then his meaning slowly dawned. Hot anger flared inside her at his audacity. "What?" she demanded, just to make sure, and then she couldn't stop herself from adding: "Would you kindly look at me when you're talking to me!"

At her admonition he slowly turned and looked her straight in the eye, and she realised that he was struggling to control his anger. "It's a lie," he finally stated.

Elizabeth snorted in disbelief. "Oh really, and would you care telling me the truth?"

"Actually, it was the other way round. I caught them."

"Ah yes! Your fiancée and her cousin, in bed together- how sick is that?" She didn't even try to hide the irony in her voice.

"Sick or not- it's the truth," he gritted through clenched teeth.

"Patricia assumed that you would attempt to turn the facts- and obviously she was right!"

Finally his anger flared, and his voice rose a notch. "She turned the facts! They did! I am not a liar!"

"That's not what I've heard! It seems that you're quite the proficient liar! Only this time you were caught- and not only by Patricia. So there's really no use in keeping up the pretence-"

"This time?" he asked incredulously, taking a threatening step toward her. "Are you by any chance suggesting...?"

She didn't back down. "Indeed, I am! I've been told that you're a notorious cheater, and I have no reason whatsoever not to believe in my family's words!"

He retreated and shook his head in disgust. "How can you be so blind?" His brows furrowed in suspicion. "Or do you just pretend not to see it?"

For the life of her, Elizabeth didn't know what he was talking about. "See what?"

"What they really are! Who they really are!"

"They are my husband and his cousin, they are decent, honest people. And my husband even more so than anyone else I know!"

Again he moved toward her, his tone harsh as he asked: "Then why is it that nobody likes him? Why is it that your father warned you against marrying him?"

Her eyes widened and her voice came out as almost a whisper. "How do you know?"

"I'm your brother-in-law's best friend- we talk."

Once she'd recovered from his matter-of-fact remark, her gaze narrowed dangerously and she took a step toward him. "This is none of your business." Unable to help herself, she raised her hand and poked her forefinger into his chest. "Don't you dare tarnish my husband's reputation! You don't know him at all- no one does!"

"And you least of all!" He caught her fingers in his to prevent her from doing real harm even as his eyes bore into hers. "He's been manipulating you from the day you've met him!" His voice grew quietly intent, beseeching her to believe him. "Elizabeth, don't you see it? He's a fraud, a dazzler. Cheating and lying is second nature to him..."

She stared up at him, captured by his burning gaze, her lips moving in a futile effort to form words her brain refused to provide her with.

William tightened his hold on her hand, drawing her closer until their bodies almost touched as he continued his mesmerising monologue: "He's deceiving you, Elizabeth. He has an affair with his own cousin! Don't let him do this to you! Open your eyes and see him for what he really is! Wake up, Elizabeth, wake up!"

And suddenly she did. She blinked once, twice and her eyes widened. With a gasp she jerked free of his hold and took a few steps back. Hot colour rose into her cheeks. "You..." she fought her discomposure to find the right words, "...you...impostor! You are even worse than I thought! But you will not convince me, no matter what you say! I know my husband, and I love him, and I believe in him! You are naught but a stranger to me!"

Hands clasped behind his back, his gaze never leaving her face, William listened to her tirade in absolute immobility. When she was finished, they stared at each other silently, her eyes blazing with outrage while his didn't give away the slightest hint at his feelings. It nettled her to no end that he'd managed to slip back behind his fa硤e without visible effort whereas she could do nothing to hide her emotional upheaval. How did he do it? How could he be so untouched by what had happened to him- culprit or not?

Again her curiosity peaked and for the first time since his unexpected arrival she scrutinised him carefully. Wasn't there a noticeable pallor beneath his slightly tanned complexion? And there were dark shadows under his eyes and fine lines of strain running from his nose to the corners of his mouth. As she watched, a muscle jumped in his jaw and she suddelnly realised that he was as tense as a drawn bow. Indeed, he was far from being unaffected, though he made a good job of concealing it. Her detection filled her with overwhelming gratification- since there was no other way for him to be punished, at least he should suffer...

Unable to repress a satisfied smirk, she sought his gaze just in time to see his eyes flicker with- unease? She blinked in puzzlement, and when she looked again his expression was as blank as she'd ever seen it, leaving her to wonder if her imagination had played a trick on her. Deeply engrossed in her thoughts, she almost jumped when William cleared his throat.

"We may be little more but strangers, Elizabeth, but right now I'm here as a friend." When she was about to interrupt, he stopped her by raising a hand. "No- please hear me out. We're in this together, just you and me. We've both been lied to and cheated on by those we trusted most, and since I was the one to find out, I considered it only... fair that you be informed about it. It's entirely up to you to decide what to do now. -Though I'd suggest you clear matters immediately, before they can hurt you even more."

While she listened, Elizabeth's anger rose until she feared she might choke on it. Hadn't he heard what she'd said? Had he ignored her every word? His persistence was indeed amazing. In an attempt to calm down, she swallowed and clenched her fists, lest she shout right into his arrogant face.

"Once and for all, William my friend, no matter what you tell me- I will not believe you! I've no reason whatsoever to mistrust my husband- and this nasty story is just too absurd to be given any credit-"

"But it is not as long as I'm the culprit," he interrupted loudly, no longer caring to hide his fury.

"Exactly!" Elizabeth's voice also rose in volume. "Because contrary to your claim, you're not my friend! You're nothing to me! I don't even know you- so whyever should I listen to you? If I'm told that you're a liar, why not believe it?"

He'd begun to pace the room, raking his fingers through his hair, shaking his head in frustration. "This can't be happening!"

Elizabeth's eyes followed him. "It does- and it's your own fault! What did you expect me to do? I can't even begin to understand what brought you here! You cheated on your fianc饬 you were caught, she broke up with you- end of story! Why not give it a rest?"

William stopped right in front of her, glaring down at her, his eyes ablaze with anger. "Because it is not true!"

Her annoyance finally irrepressible, she met his glare head-on. "That's enough- get out of here!"

But he stood his ground and took a deep breath, whether to get back in control or to let loose with another of his tedious rants, she didn't care to ever find out. Giving him no chance to show her, she thrust out her arm, indicating the door. "Out!"

Still he didn't budge, but watched her closely with disturbing intensity. And before she could stop him again, he spoke up. "You know, Jane is really proud of your rationality, your common-sense for one so young. She will be very disappointed if she ever hears about this..."

Elizabeth felt ready to explode. "How dare you," she ground out. And then she did, shouting at what felt like the top of her lungs straight into his face. "Get out of here! At once!"

He nodded curtly, turned on his heels and quickly left the room. Only when she heard the front door being closed with a thud, did she realise that she'd been holding her breath...

With a hand pressed to her chest to calm her thundering heart, Elizabeth did exactly what she'd done then- she greedily gulped air into her straining lungs. Though this time the breathlessness was caused by profound agitation instead of burning anger. How could she ever have thought that remembering would make anything easier? In truth it was quite the opposite- the more she came to know, the harder it got. Many of the things she'd said and done while married to Tom were totally unlike her- so much so that she couldn't help but feel completely detached from the woman that had been Elizabeth Baxter-Harding. Indeed, it was as if she'd died together with her husband in this car accident 18 months ago.

William had been right- his every word nothing but the absolute truth, about Tom and Patricia and about her too. Hot tears sprang to her eyes and with a groan of anguish she leaned her head back against the window frame. Feeling definitely rather cursed than blessed with her restored knowledge, she wondered how she was ever going to face him again without dying of shame...

Chapter 17 - Part 3

Though it was still very early, William was already on the road to Longbourn. Once he'd made up his mind- with a little help from Anne- to return home, his impatience to see Elizabeth had grown almost beyond bearing. If he'd had his way he would have gone to her straight from the airport, but with his cousin in tow and the fund-raiser to attend, it had been impossible to accomplish.

At first he'd been thoroughly annoyed, wishing everyone away, longing for the freedom to go where he most wanted to be. In the end, though, the evening had been quite entertaining, with Anne in full cry as she teased her mother mercilessly, and his aunt tiptoeing around him as though she expected him to explode any second; seeing her contrition could have been truly funny, if not for the grave impact of her doings. Actually, he considered it a major advantage that she'd left the fund-raiser at rather an early hour. With the way he felt about her at present, he didn't really trust himself to remain calm and rational around her for any length of time.

Feeling his anger rise anew, William quickly pushed aside all thoughts of his aunt to deal with them- and her- later. It would not do to arrive at Longbourn in a bad mood and ruin the reunion with his beloved. He knew very well that he was neglecting his promise to give her time, but he sincerely hoped for her understanding. Please, please let her understand, let her feel the way I do, he prayed silently to any god inclined to listen. Yet, the nagging doubts lingered, no matter what he told himself- or asked of the heavenly powers.

The ringing of his mobile, connected to a hands-free system interrupted his musings. After a quick glance at the display, he pushed a button and Emily's voice immediately filled the interior of his car: "Good morning, William- seems like you finally made it back home!"

Though she sounded quite pleased, he couldn't miss the reprimanding tone underlying her words. A slight smile curved his lips as he answered: "Yes, I'm back. In fact, I returned late yesterday afternoon, but I had a busy evening, so- I'm sorry I didn't call you. How do you know, anyway?"

Emily made a noise that closely resembled a snort. It was so unlike her that his smile broadened and threatened to turn into laughter. He bit down on his lips hard, knowing better than to let her hear it.

"Well, what do you think?" she continued, unabashed. "You attended a public event- not a very smart decision if you wanted your whereabouts to be kept secret. -Sir John called me about 5 minutes ago to ask for an appointment today. So what was I to tell him? I don't know if you plan to stay and come back to work, or leave again! I didn't even know you'd returned!"

He sobered instantly at the mention of Sir John Asherton who was the central figure in a huge deal William and his associates had been working on for the past 3 months. If they managed to conclude it, it would gain them all another small fortune. Mentally assessing the situation, he murmered. "So he's finally getting impatient."

"Positively," Emily agreed with audible satisfaction, and before William could ask, she continued: "I promised to call him back as soon as I talked to you."

"Good- you do that and tell him that I'll meet him for lunch on Monday."

There was a tiny pause before Emily asked: "You think it wise to wait until Monday?" William chuckled. "The old hoodlum has us on tenterhooks for weeks now! I'm all for a little pay back here." And to reassure her, he went on: "Believe me, Emily, we have him netted- all I have to do is haul him aboard. 3 more days will make no difference."

"Oh well, you're the boss," she admitted with a sigh that rustled through the speakers. Then she abruptly changed the topic. "Where are you, anyway?"

"I'm on my way to Longbourn."

"Longbourn? Where's that?" Emily asked clearly bemazed.

"It's just outside of Meryton and it's the home of Elizabeth Baxter-Harding."

A short "oh" echoed inside the car, followed by silence. It went on for so long that William finally thought they'd been disconnected. "Emily, are you still there?"

"Yes," she replied promptly. "I was just thinking."

"About?"

Emily drew a deep breath before asking bluntly: "Is she really your lover?"

Caught completely off guard by her question, William's mind went momentarily blank and he gaped in surprise. Of its own volition his gaze flew to the display of his mobile where it was attached to the dashboard. Just a scant second later some deeply ingrained instict told him that something was terribly wrong with the direction his car was taking- and from then on everything seemed to happen at the same time.

He pulled up his head to see one of the trees on the roadside nearing rapidly even as a wave of adrenaline surged through his body and his thinking process kicked back in. Quietly cursing his idiotic reaction to a rather harmless question, he tightened his hands on the steering wheel and he gave it a jerk to get away from the massive obstacle while he jumped on the brakes. After what seemed like an eternity of hard work, the car finally came to a skidding halt in the middle of the road.

Drenched in sweat, his heart pounding in his ears like an erratic drumbeat, William closed his eyes and silently thanked the powers above for the lack of early morning traffic. Only then did he become aware of Emily's worried voice coming over the speakers.

"William? What's going on? Are you alright? -Talk to me!"

He inhaled deeply before answering, unsure of how his own voice would sound, reluctant to give her cause for alarm. "Everything's fine, Emily," he assured her. "I was just...surprised, is all. How do you know, anyway? Somehow I can't imagine Aunt Catherine spreading the happy news."

"Come again?" Emily asked, her perplexity obvious.

"Never mind...Who told you?" While he listened to her explanation, he loosened the tight grip he still had on the steering wheel and rolled his shoulders for relaxation. Then he slowly brought his car back on course.

By the time Emily was finished, a happy smile had spread across William's face. Elizabeth had tried to get in touch with him! Though he knew exactly that it could be either a good or a bad sign, he preferred to opt for the good one.

"That's wonderful news, Emily. -And before you ask again, yes- we are having an affair and I plan to make much more of it. I promise to explain how everything has come to pass when I'm back in the office. It would take too long now, since I'm almost there; so I'm pretty much running out of time. Just be so kind to call Sir John, and you will hear from me later today. Alright?"

"Alright, boss!" Emily replied instantly with a smile in her voice. "Oh- and William, have a nice time...Bye!"

Before he could answer, she hung up and left him to concentrate on his thoughts and the road ahead of him.

Robert Bennet had just recently wakened, when the doorbell rang. Brows furrowed in wonderment about the early morning disturbance, he put on his robe and went downstairs. A flash of pleasant surprise crossed his face when he opened the door and saw William Darcy standing there.

"Well, well, good morning, young man. It's good to see you again- finally," smiling cordially, he extended a hand in greeting.

His smile broadened when William eyed him warily- much as if he expected an unholy row to come down upon his head at any second. But while Robert watched, he seemed to gather his courage and finally took the offered hand to shake it carefully.

"Good morning, Robert. I didn't wake you up, I hope?"

"No, no, not at all- but please come on in before I freeze on the spot."

"Oh, I'm sorry, of course," William replied hastily. He hurried inside and quickly closed the door behind him, his movements of a clumsiness that clearly betrayed his unease. Unable to hide his amusement, Robert chuckled and put a reassuring hand on his visitor's shoulder.

"No need to be nervous, son, I'm quite harmless."

William's head whipped around, cheeks red with embarrassment about having been caught and a sharp tit-for-tat response on his lips. It died down quickly when he looked into Robert's smiling face, and instead he even managed to muster a small smile in return.

"There, that's much better. -So, I assume you are here to see Elizabeth?" He waited for William to nod before he continued, "yes, I thought so- though you realise that it's quite early...?"

"I know...and I apologise...but I wanted to make sure that she was at home," William explained, his nervousness back in full force.

"Oh, she's here alright. But chances are, she's still sound asleep- and I'm afraid she will not be thrilled about being disturbed at such an ungodly hour," Robert said in mock gravity, as he shook his head slightly, taking silent delight in torturing the younger man.

In truth, Elizabeth was an early riser- something William obviously didn't know, judging by the helpless expression that had settled on his face. With a sigh of regret, Robert decided to take pity on the man, before his confidence crumbled completely.

"Listen, William, I will go and check on her. See if she's up already. In the meantime- why don't you take off your coat, and make yourself comfortable," he told William while he strode to the stairs. "Living room's over there," he indicated a closed door to the right before disappearing around the corner.

William hardly had had time to sit down and gather his wits before the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs caused him to stand up again. Elizabeth, his heart and soul whispered in unison, as he stared at the open door in rapt anticipation, his breath suddenly too short, his cold hands clammy with sweat.

Endless seconds ticked by, and then...Mr. Bennet's angular shape filled the door frame. His lips were compressed into a thin line, his eyes filled with regret and sympathy. He caught William's expectant gaze and shook his head slightly.

"I'm...terribly sorry, son. She...doesn't want to see you."

William felt as if he'd just received a punch straight to the stomach. The urge to bend forward at the waist and hug his aching middle was so strong that it was all he could do to remain upright. The familiar pain from suppressed grief and sorrow came back tenfold, making his knees buckle until he finally lost the fight and sank back into his chair, burrying his face in his hands.

Mr. Bennet was by his side instantly, sitting down across from him and- after a brief hesitation- tapping his arm in compassion. His voice was quiet but insistant when he spoke.

"Nothing's lost yet, William...She loves you- I know she does."

William took a steadying breath before he lifted his head to look at Robert in desperate inquiry. "Then why won't she talk to me? Yesterday she called my office and asked for me. What has changed? Why has she changed her mind overnight?"

Shrugging slightly, Robert heaved a sigh. "I wish I had an answer...but all I know is that she had another dream. And whenever that happens, she's weary and tired to the bone in the morning. Maybe she just doesn't want you to see her like this..."

With a snort, William stood up again and began to pace the room. "Or maybe she doesn't want to see me ever again! Maybe for her, I'm nothing more than a fling and-"

"No!" Robert intercepted decidedly, getting up as well to stand in front of William. "I know my daughter, and I know she loves you. Whatever her reasons for not wanting to see you, I'm sure she will explain them in due time. She's downright honest, William- and she would never play with anyone's feelings."

"I know all that, Robert," William conceded, passing a hand through his hair. "But I was so...so impatient to see her again- so full of hope..."

Robert squeezed the younger man's shoulder affectionately. "Don't lose that hope, William, hold on to it...I'm positive everything will turn out just...fine."

"You think?" William asked, his voice indeed hopeful, his gaze beseeching.

The older man chuckled, his face once again lit by a good natured smile. "I do, son, definitely. -By the way," he cocked his head in question, "you don't mind that I call you son?"

Despite himself, William had to smile back- again, and while he looked at Robert it occurred to him for the first time that there was an astounding likeness between this man and his younger daughter- if not in looks, but certainly in temper. His heart felt somewhat lighter and the words came easy as he answered. "No, I don't, Sir. In fact, it is an honour."

"Good, good," Robert nodded. "I figure, we should both get used to it- don't you think?" He winked at William and with a gentle hand on his back guided him out of the room. "You better be on your way now, son, and I'm going upstairs to have a talk with my recalcitrant daughter. She will call you today- I promise."

"Thank you, Robert. I appreciate your help- very much," William said while he shrugged into his coat.

"You're welcome, son. Good-bye for now."

They shook hands and William left, reassured and confident once more while Robert climbed the stairs to his daughter's bedroom.

Elizabeth was still sitting on her bed when Robert came back into her room.

"Is he gone?" she asked as soon as he closed the door behind him.

"Yes," Robert answered shortly. He walked over to her and sat down. "Why ever did you refuse to see him? I thought you could hardly wait for his return."

"I- " she hesitated, rubbing her hand across her forehead. "I- have to come to terms with what has happened first."

Robert turned to her and took her hand in his. "Then what has happened? Tell me."

Scooting closer to him, Elizabeth nodded and began her story, sometimes stumbling over her own words, sometimes shedding a stray tear.

When she was finished, they sat in silence. While her stillness resulted entirely from exhaustion, Robert's originated from thoughtfulness as he pondered over what he'd just learned.

Finally he inhaled deeply and let his breath escape on a slow sigh. "It doesn't make any sense, Lizzy...When he has indeed found someone else, why would he have come here today?"

"To tell me it's over?" she suggested in a near whisper.

But Robert just shook his head in denial. "No way, believe me! Whoever this woman is- a close friend, or maybe a relative- there's definitly nothing more than friendship to it. He's in love with you- it couldn't be more obvious if he had it tatooed to his forehead."

Elizabeth bit her lower lip, hoping against hope that her father was right. Yet, she couldn't completely quench the lingering doubts. "But you should have seen them together, Papa. He couldn't keep his hands off of her and she was constantly snuggling up to his side..."

"Even so," Robert insisted, "you don't know the story behind it- and I'm sure there is more to it than the obvious." He squeezed her hand tightly. "Trust me in this, Lizzy. I recognise a love-sick man when I see one...You have to talk to him- as soon as possible. Ask him and I'm sure he can explain everything and resolve all your doubts."

Lizzy hung her head, drawing small circles on the bedcloth with her free hand. "I know I have to talk to him- eventually. I'm just so...tired and confused. Last night, before going to sleep, I made up my mind o talk to him because he's the only one who can set things straight..."

Robert nodded in agreement. "The only sound decision, Lizzy."

"I know- but then I dreamed...and now I'm so ashamed of myself..." her voice trailed off and she ducked her head even deeper.

Very gently Robert hooked his fingers under her chin and raised her face to his. "Lizzy, you have to realise that this is in the past...William knows all about it; he was there, after all. You've been through this together- and he understands...How else could he have fallen in love with you despite the past?"

Her eyes were brimming with tears when she tried to interject. "But-"

"There is no 'but', Lizzy. I'm well aware that you didn't remember up until now. William did, and to him it's just a memory- nothing more. And that's indeed all it is. Whatever you did that needed his forgiveness, he has granted it long since. All you have to do is follow his example and forgive yourself. Keep in mind that your circumstances were different, that you were different, and what happened then has nothing to do with the present- or the future..."

With a sob, Elizabeth threw herself into her father's arms and buried her face in his shoulder. He held on to her and stroked her back tenderly. "Now, now- it's alright...Calm down, Sweetie. It will turn out just fine, you'll see."

"Thank you, Papa," she murmured into the folds of his robe. After sniffing a few times, she finally leaned away from him to look into his eyes. "What would I do without you?"

He smiled and brushed her hair away from her damp face. "I think we should save this question for another time- what do you say?"

Elizabeth nodded, managing to give him a wobbly smile in return.

"Good," he nudged her shoulder gently, making her lie down on the bed. "I suggest that you take a nap now, and when you wake up again, I want you to call William and have a talk with him. Promise?"

Elizabeth nooded tiredly while he stood up and tucked her in, securing the blanket around her. When he turned to leave the room, she was already sound asleep.

In her penthouse office at the Rosings, Lady Catherine de Bourgh put down the receiver of her private telephone line with a relieved smile on her face. After calling for her driver, she stood up slowly and gathered her personal belongings to put them into her purse. So far, everything went according to plan- and she hoped dearly that her good luck would last for a few hours more. If so, her self-imposed mission would come to a satisfying end for everyone involved...

To be continued

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