Never Deserved You

By Katherine

Chapter 1

Posted on Sunday, 20 January 2002

Darcy watched the fire as it danced before him. A roaring, warm fire had always seemed so open, so welcoming to him before. To him, it seemed to be the icon of every family, where children played as parents laughed at the day's events. But not tonight. Tonight it seemed as if the flames that seemed so innocent were now full of malice, taunting him for his faults and snickering at rejection. These flames seemed to know what had perspired, each little event that had occurred in Darcy's life. Inside of these flames, Darcy could see everything. Every mistake of the past kept bombarding him as he sat there, drinking his glass of port, being engulfed by his own sense of self pity and hatred.

"They're just flames," Darcy muttered to himself. But Darcy's words were in vain, and in pushing out his current thoughts, new ones came into his head. Horrible words came flooding back, words that Darcy never wished to hear again.

You could not have made me the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it... Elizabeth's voice replied coldly, in an eerie, haunting manner that made Darcy shiver with pain.

"I was a fool to think that she'd ever marry me," Darcy thought angrily to himself. "She deserves no less than a charming prince, or a chivalrous knight. Someone who knows how to treat her like the princess she is."

But you love her, a voice answered.

"What good is love," Darcy argued back. "My love was in vain; I should have seen that from the start. Elizabeth could never be induced to marry someone like myself."

Why not? the voice added.

"Why would she?" Darcy murmured back. "I never even treated her kindly. I acted like I was doing her a favor, assuming that she would love me because I was so much higher in the social scale, and richer. Now I know that she was the rich one, and I am the beggar who can only gaze at her wealth from afar."

... it spared me the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner ...

You explained yourself in the letter ... the voice reminded him.

"That letter? All I did was yell at her, and try to take out all of my anger at my past at her. What she must have thought of me when she read those harsh words and unkind phrases!"

...Gentlemanlike manner...

"If only my father could see me now," Darcy thought, allowing a chuckle to escape his lips. "He'd probably be ashamed with his son has become."

Why?

"Look at me!" Darcy exclaimed in his head. "I'm proud and arrogant! Just look at the way I acted to those in Meryton! I never once said I kind word to anyone, as I acted as if I was too good to be among those people. They saw me as nothing but a rude rich man who they would rather see jump off a cliff than spend one more night in their company.

You are rich ...

"As to wealth, who cares if I'm rich? It did little to induce Elizabeth into matrimony."

There are other women who appreciate your wealth ...

"Like who? None of them can compare with Elizabeth; her beauty, charms, intelligence, wit, and humor are outmatched by none!"

There will be other women ...

"She's the only woman who matters to me! What is my life is she is not by my side? She is the only woman I want to be with, to raise children with, to share good times, bad times, and to love with the deepest of loves. To wake up next to her and know, deep down, that everything will be fine as long as we are together," Darcy said, on the verge of tears. "Like the love my parents had."

True love conquers all. That is what you would tell Georgiana when she was young... the voice added, almost taunting him.

"I was wrong!" Darcy yelled. "There! Are you happy now? I was wrong! I was wrong to think Elizabeth would ever love me the way I love her! I never deserved her! I never had a chance, a small hope of acceptance. It would have been better if I had never asked for her hand in the first place. She deserves a happiness that she would never have with me."

Darcy threw his glass of port into the fire, but nothing could calm his anger. The flames lapped up the drink with vivacity, and the port only seemed to fuel their hunger for pain. His eyes were blurred with tears, and he took several ragged breaths to try and calm himself.

"Fitzwilliam?" Georgiana's shy voice called from outside of the door. This startled Darcy. "Are you well?"

"Yes, Georgie, I am well," Darcy replied as calmly as possible.

"I heard a noise ..."

"I just knocked over a table accidentally. It's rather dark in here, and I missed seeing it," Darcy lied through his teeth. "I was on my way to bed."

"Oh. Goodnight, then," Georgiana replied quietly, yet a note of sadness was evident in her voice. "Pleasant dreams."

"Goodnight," Darcy called back. Pleasant dreams, indeed. My dreams will never be pleasant as long as Elizabeth haunts them.

Your sister seems worried ... the voice replied.

"What did I ever do to deserve her as my sister? She is too good for me," Darcy said with a sigh. "She will be happy in life. She will have no troubles finding love with her good heart and kindness ..."

Like Elizabeth's sister ...

"Jane," Darcy finished. "Look what I did to Jane Bennet! I ruined all of her hopes for a happy future, as well as Bingley's. What kind of monster am I?"

But if she did not love him ...

"She did. More than any woman has ever loved a man. Now, in her heart, she is grieving for her lost love, and it is my fault entirely."

Perhaps it is better this way ...

"No, it is not. Bingley should be allowed that kind of love, from a woman who will complete him, even if I cannot be so lucky. Tomorrow, I will make him the most content of men again, so that he can be happy enough for the both of us."

Chapter 2

Posted on Sunday, 20 January 2002

" You're saying that she loves me? Bingley asked, shocked at what Darcy had told him.

"Yes," Darcy replied quietly, trying not to look into Bingley eyes.

When he did, he noticed the sheer pain in those two blue eyes, which was fighting with laughter as Bingley realized that Jane still loved him. Which emotion will win out? Laughter for love, or pain at his friend's betrayal? Darcy asked himself.

"You mean to tell me that you knew she loved me, yet you separated us?" Bingley said after a while. The question of truth.

"Yes."

Bingley was surprised at this admittance of wrong, for Darcy was never wrong.

"Why?" Bingley choked out. "Why did you do it."

"Two reasons. First, I believed that she did not love you, which, if true, would have helped ease my dishonesty. Secondly, for my own selfish nature, I was against her family's place in society, and I thought I was doing you a favor by keeping you from such a imprudent match," Darcy stated quite frankly.

"How could you?"

"I don't know, Bingley. It was an arrogant presumption, as well as selfishness on my own part," Darcy admitted. "I only hope that you can forgive me someday."

"Yes ..." Bingley said blankly. "And my sisters? Did they know?"

"Yes."

"What was their motive in this match? To hurt their brother? To make him miserable for the rest of his life?" Bingley questioned, slightly irritated.

"They were, like myself, against Miss Bennet's connections in life. But, as another motive, I think a match between you and my sister was hoped."

"Georgiana?"

"Yes."

"But, Darcy, no offense, your sister is a bit young," Bingley added.

"I know. But people's minds work in mysterious ways," Darcy replied. "To some, Jane was the enemy."

"But ... you did mean to say that she loves me?" Bingley asked.

"Yes. She even came to London in hopes of finding you," Darcy confessed. "Another one of my many wrongs was keeping that information from you."

"Darcy, I ... I don't believe it. She loves me," Bingley said, running his fingers through his hair. "You know, I should be furious at you."

"I would not blame you if you were. You are handling your anger quite well," Darcy replied.

"You admit that you were in the wrong?"

"Utterly and completely."

"What made you change your mind, then?" Bingley asked. "If you were so adamant to split us up?"

"I realized that I had no right to interfere," Darcy said quite plainly. "Besides, I could not see you and Miss Bennet unhappy. You two deserve each other's love and happiness, and I wish you both the best in life. Besides, I have it on good authority from Miss Elizabeth that Miss Bennet has been in the worst of moods since you've left."

"Thank you," Bingley replied. "Deep down, you are a true friend."

"Perhaps you should go to Netherfield directly," Darcy offered. "See Miss Bennet again. Renew your attentions."

"Yes, Darcy, you are right. I only hope that she will still have me," Bingley replied, pacing back and forth in front of Darcy's desk.

"She will. True love conquers all," Darcy said with a small smile.

"You really believe this is true love?" Bingley asked hopefully, and Darcy smiled.

"I know it is." Bingley smiled.

"Well, I must be off. Would you care to join me on my trip?" Bingley asked optimistically, thinking it would b just what Darcy needed to lift his gloomy spirits. Darcy shook his head.

"No, I am not necessary in your party. No one would be happy if I joined you. You go, alone, and make yourself happy," Darcy replied. "Just make sure to notify me as soon as you pick a date for the wedding."

Bingley just smiled as he made his way quickly towards the door. Darcy knew that Bingley had a good life in store for him with Jane Bennet, and Darcy wished him all of the luck in the world. He deserves to be happy. Unlike myself.

"Darcy?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. You are a true friend indeed," Bingley repeated before walking out the door.

If I only could believe that .

Darcy sat there for a few moments as his head filled with visions of Hertfortshire. Darcy thought of the balls, the countryside, and the small, quaint little village. But all of these things kept bringing him back to Elizabeth's memory, and Darcy shook his head angrily, as if that would solve all of his problems.

He must go to Pemberley. Now. That was the only place he would get some comfort, some relief from his pain, his memories. Perhaps there he could forget what he had lost, and what was never his to gain in the first place. As much as it would hurt to be in Pemberley, where he would be constantly reminded of the void in his life that only a wife and children could fill, he knew that he must go there, tomorrow. Now all that was left was to find Georgiana.

"Now where is Georgiana?" Darcy muttered to himself as he began to wander through the halls of his home. "Georgiana!"

"William?" Georgiana asked timidly, emerging from the music room with a cautious look on her face. My coldness has made her this way, Darcy thought. What kind of monster have I been? Am I still? . "Were you looking for me?"

"How would you like to go to Pemberley tomorrow?"

"Oh, I should very much like that!" Georgiana exclaimed, then bit her lip at her bluntness. "If you wish to, I mean."

"Then we shall go," Darcy replied quite blandly, and Georgiana smiled curiously.

"Are you sure you are in the spirits to go?"

"Quite."

"I see," Georgiana replied. "Then I shall go pack, and we can leave first thing. Hmm?"

"That is fine with me."

Georgiana began to walk up the stairs, but stopped briefly, and turned around to face her lovesick brother.

"And William? Will you promise me that you'll get some sleep tonight?" Georgiana asked, worry on her face and sadness in her eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"Last night you didn't sleep. In fact, I know that you haven't been since you got back from Kent," Georgiana confessed. "I've seen the light through the bottom of your door."

"I sleep." Darcy replied, very agitated with his sister.

"Please, William? I know that you're lying. If you don't, you'll become unwell, and I don't know what I'd do without you." Tears came to her eyes.

"Fine. I will sleep."

"Thank you, William," Georgiana said, giving her brother a quick peck on the cheek before moving away from him hurriedly.

I bet she would have loved to have Elizabeth for a sister, was all that Darcy could think to himself. They would have been good for each other.

Chapter 3

Posted on Sunday, 20 January 2002

Four days later

Elizabeth had left Hertfortshire with her aunt, uncle, and confused thoughts swimming around in her head. Mr. Bingley had arrived at Netherfield only two days prior, much to everyone's surprise and shock. But, after his sudden departure last fall, his unknown visit was not to be thought of as unusual.

Mr. Bingley had come alone, or so it was rumored, as he claimed his sisters were busy with matters in town, and his friend was off in London. Mrs. Bennet, as well as many of the other women in town, was upset at the absence of Caroline and Louisa and their fine, stylish gowns as well as their town gossip. But Mr. Darcy's absence was not thought of, and most were glad that he had decided to stay in London.

"He is not wanted in Meryton, and I am thankful that he has hopefully realized that," Mrs. Bennet had replied, and Lady Lucas and Mrs. Long had agreed.

Still, Mr. Bingley's arrival had caused Elizabeth a bit of turmoil. There was only one possiblity that made sense with his sudden arrival, and that could be traced back to Mr. Darcy. Could it be possible that he told his friend to come back to Hertfortshire? To continue his attentions to Jane, with the family that Mr. Darcy had found so decidedly below his own? It seemed so unlike Mr. Darcy, yet deep down, Elizabeth did not find the answer so unbelievable.

That would mean that we are now equal. He has now committed no wrong that I can think of. Everything that I accused him of in Kent is no longer true, and I have no reason why I cannot look at him in a good light. Although, he is more than just a good man. He has become so much more ...

Elizabeth stopped thinking at that moment, as she came to a stark realization.

I'm in love with him. Elizabeth thought with an inward laugh. It came on so strongly that I didn't know that love existed until it hit me at full force. Oh, I love him. I cannot hide the emotion now that it has been firmly imprinted on my brain. But what will I do now? Now that I have already rejected his proposal?

Elizabeth just decided to stare out of the window, until she was fast asleep. During that restless sleep in the carriage, she dreamed of Darcy. She dreamed about her horrible refusal at Kent. Only this time, after receiving the letter, she had run after Darcy and told him over and over that she loved him. But he had looked at her with revulsion and stated that he no longer loved her, a poor country girl, and had found a new woman to love: Caroline Bingley.

"Elizabeth? Lizzy, are you well?" Mrs. Gardiner asked, shaking Elizabeth until she awoke.

"Wha?" Elizabeth asked, looking around the carriage, dazed and confused.

"You were crying in your sleep, and crying out in anguish. We were worried about you," Mrs. Gardiner replied.

"You must have been having a nightmare," Mr. Gardiner added.

"Are you well, though, Lizzy?" Mrs. Gardiner asked, and Elizabeth nodded slowly.

"Yes, a nightmare," Elizabeth replied, which seemed to satisfy her aunt and uncle to some degree. A nightmare that I wish would never come true. Oh, if only things were different!

Seven days later, Lambton

"Elizabeth, what do you think of going to Pemberley tomorrow?" Mrs. Gardiner asked as she spooned some potatoes onto her plate, and Elizabeth nearly choked.

"Do you especially wish to see the house, Aunt?" Elizabeth asked, coughing a few times.

"I have heard that the grounds there are very fine, and that the estate is very well situated and furnished," Mrs. Gardiner replied.

"And it is no more than five miles out of our way," Mr. Gardiner added with a smile.

"But, I would feel ... awkward, going there without a proper invitation," Elizabeth replied slowly.

"Oh, I am sure the family would not mind," Mrs. Gardiner said.

"Miss, how far are we from Pemberley?" Mr. Gardiner asked Hannah, their servant, as she brought in a bowl of vegetables. Hannah gave a small smile towards the family before replying.

"Not more than five miles, sir."

"The grounds are very lovely, are they not?" Mrs. Gardiner asked, already knowing the answer.

"As fine as you'll see anywhere, Ma'am. My brother is an undergardener there," Hannah replied politely.

"Is the family there for the summer?" Elizabeth asked curiously, praying that they were not.

"No, Ma'am. I believe they are to be in London until late July," Hannah replied before giving a quick bow and exiting the room quickly.

"What do you say, Lizzy?" Mrs. Gardiner asked her niece, and Elizabeth just smiled, unable to hide her curiosity anymore.

"Perhaps we might visit Pemberley after all," Elizabeth agreed. Besides, it will be wonderful to see where Mr. Darcy grew up, and currently lives.

Chapter 4

Posted on Sunday, 20 January 2002

The next day, Pemberley

Darcy sat under the lush tree and looked out at the sun as it began to set. He had come to this spot ever since he was a young man of fourteen. Too old to be a child yet too young to be an adult. He remembered his first visit here, with Georgiana, when she was but two years old, after their mother's premature and untimely death. Darcy had held Georgiana in his lap as she slept peacefully, and had thought about his mother, his family, and his own future.

I had imagined myself with my family. My content, lovely wife by my side, her smile brighter than a thousand shooting stars. She would love me as much as I loved her, and we would be the perfect pair, like turtledoves. Our children would be playing about us, and we would be the perfect family. If only my life had turned out like that.

But no, it never will. There will never be a Mrs. Darcy at Pemberley or any Darcy children. Georgiana will have to marry and provide and heir, because I will never be able to do so. I have failed my family, my ancestors, and my duty. There would always be Anne, but what good is a wife if it is not Elizabeth?

With those thoughts, Darcy began to walk sadly back to Pemberley, and the emptiness it held in his heart.

It was growing dark upon the group inside the house, and Elizabeth could see that the sun was beginning to set behind the beautiful hills of the countryside. The day had been spent looking at the home of the person who deep down she knew she loved, and she did not want to leave the place that he called home. The place that he spent his happy moments, his childhood, and where he would spend the rest of his life without her. As much as she did not want to leave Pemberley, Elizabeth knew she must. The sooner we leave, the sooner I can forget him, and try to move on with my life. As if that would ever happen.

"Aunt, don't you suppose we should be leaving soon?" Elizabeth asked. "It is growing dark."

"You are quite right, Elizabeth, and your uncle and I will be but a moment as we look at the music room," Mrs. Gardiner replied.

"I will wait for you near the entrance, then," Elizabeth replied heavily.

As Elizabeth walked into the hallway, her eyes immediately caught sight of Mr. Darcy walking hurriedly towards the large staircase. It shocked her to see him, for she had thought she had understood, from the servant, that Mr. and Miss Darcy were visiting friends nearby for the day. Elizabeth was speechless at his entity, for he was so much more beautiful than she had remembered. Or perhaps I was too blind to ever notice his values as I rejected him for his nonexistent faults.

His curled brown hair seemed refined, yet stuck about the place in a messy yet admirable look. Elizabeth had to keep herself from running up and touching those fine curls, and her heart pinged with guilt and love. His skin seemed tanned from the summer sun, and tiny beats of sweat moistened his forehead. Elizabeth noticed his dark, deep eyes were looking intently at the ground, and noted the sad mask they wore. Elizabeth wished to know his pain, and decided that it was now or never.

"Mr. Darcy!" Elizabeth cried out, and Mr. Darcy halted abruptly in his tracks.

Goodness, I am hallucinating. Her voice seems so real that it must be her, but why would she come to Pemberley? Darcy asked himself as he slowly turned around to face the reality of his dreams.

"Miss Bennet," Darcy replied politely.

"It is good to see you again," Elizabeth replied with a small smile.

"As is you."

"We have not met since ..." Elizabeth stopped there, too embarrassed to continue on. What must he think of me for almost bringing that incident back up?

"Kent. Yes, you are correct, it has been a while," Darcy said, his eyes darting towards the stairs as he wished he could make a quick getaway. Why does she torture me so? It is as a beggar is teased by the sight of wealth and grandeur that he knows he cannot have. Or as an orphan is showed a portrait of his parents, knowing that nothing will bring them back. Why can she not let me be?

"Speaking of Kent," Elizabeth began, "I would like to apologize."

"For what?" Darcy asked. Why does she feel the need to apologize to me? Did she omit some valuable piece of information about my proud character? My selfish being?

"For what I said to you. It was ... unkind and rude of me to say, and I hope that you can forgive me," Elizabeth said quickly, causing a few of the words to run together. Now I must wait for the response

"What did you say of me that was wrong? Every word that came out of your mouth was the truth, and I will not forgive you for speaking it," Darcy replied.

"What I said of Wickham! I blamed you for his position when I should have been chastising him for lying!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "I should not have behaved so abominably to you during that ... proposal."

"The proposal was a mistake. It was wrong of me to ever offer marriage to you," Darcy said bluntly. He tried to whisper the next words to himself, but Elizabeth could hear him as he replied, "I never deserved you."

With those words, Darcy took the opportunity to run up the stairs and out of view, away from Elizabeth, who stood with her mouth open. Elizabeth could only be described as shocked by what Darcy had just told her, and was on the verge of tears as she stood looking up where Darcy had run.

Why? Elizabeth asked herself. Why does he think that? Does he not love me anymore? Does he not know that I was the one who never deserved his love in the first place?

"Elizabeth!" Mrs. Gardiner's voice called from behind, and Elizabeth took a few deep breaths to calm herself.

"Aunt," Elizabeth said cheerfully, turning to face her aunt and uncle. "How was the music room?"

"Just delightful! You should have seen the pianoforte that Mr. Darcy bought for his sister!" Mrs. Gardiner gushed. "It was very fine. I wish I had a brother like that."

"Indeed," Mr. Gardiner agreed. "Lovely instrument."

"Too bad Mary wasn't here," Elizabeth stated emotionlessly, her eyes fixed on the staircase. And as her aunt and uncle walked towards the door, chattering about the sights, Elizabeth fought in vain to determine what Mr. Darcy had meant.

Chapter 5

Posted on Friday, 25 January 2002

That evening

The proposal was a mistake. It was wrong of me to ever offer marriage to you ... I never deserved you.

This phrase kept repeating in Elizabeth's brain over and over, never once offering any comfort. Elizabeth lay awake for quite some time that night, trying to determine exactly what the meaning of Mr. Darcy's words was. There were so many possibilities that it boggled her mind, as she searched in vain for the true answer, the easy answer to this problem. It didn't help that the flames in the fireplace kept mocking her, as they danced contentedly before her eyes. Stupid fireplace, Elizabeth cursed with animosity, cringing as she heard yet another dog howl.

"It seems as if he regrets proposing to me in Kent," Elizabeth concluded to herself after conducting an in-depth look at the circumstances before her. "But why? Why would a man so in love regret his attentions?"

Your impertinent manners ... A voice stated directly.

"They never bothered him before. Truly, I believe that he enjoyed my boldness and wit, as I was not like other girls," Elizabeth retorted. "Besides, would he not want a wife that was different from all others before?"

Your parents and relations ...

"Yes, but if he absolutely loved me, they would not matter. Besides, we would rarely ever see my parents out here in Derbyshire," Elizabeth thought selfishly, denying the fact that she would miss her father's company, and her sisters. "And his family is not all that perfect; look at his Aunt Catherine."

He ran away from you.

"That does not mean anything. He ... probably had some urgent business to attend to, or had to speak with one of the servants directly on an important matter," Elizabeth added, hoping that it was true. "It does not mean that he despises my being."

The fact that you have no fortune. This statement, however, rang loud and clear in Elizabeth's head, and she let out a melancholy sigh that ripped through her heart and soul.

"Why would he ever make an alliance with someone like myself? I have nothing in life; it is no good to deny my faults and pretend that I have virtues. My family has no propriety, and I have no fortune to make our marriage worth something or to entice him to see me above all other women. Why would he want to marry a little nothing like myself?" Elizabeth asked herself angrily, tears coming to her eyes as she buried her face in her pillow. "Why did he even propose to me last Kent? He must have known how superior he was to myself, and how ungrateful I was to his consideration."

I never deserved you ... Darcy's whisper echoed, and Elizabeth scrunched her hands into angry fists.

"What does he mean? Why does he believe that?" Elizabeth cried. "He can think anything else about me, but not that!"

Why not?

"If he hated me, truly, I could bear it. I would not understand it, or welcome the hatred and the fact that he would never love me, but I could bear it," Elizabeth sobbed. "But that Mr. Darcy is out there, believing that he is inferior to myself when I am the one who is ... I cannot bear it. If I only had but one hope that he still loved me ..."

Would it make the situation any better?

Elizabeth did not know the answer to that last question, and instead focused all of her meager energy on sleeping. At last, the sandman did visit her, but her sleep was not peaceful. Elizabeth tossed and turned, waking up time after time as nightmares continued to invade her dreams. Each dream ended differently, some with Caroline Bingley or Anne de Borough becoming the new Mrs. Darcy, and some with Elizabeth finding herself far away from Mr. Darcy, or England (for that matter). But all had one common theme, in which Darcy vowed that he did not love her. And that was a torment in itself.

The next morning

"The post just come, Ma'am," Hannah said politely with a curtsey and a shy smile that was plainly asking for approval. Scarcely looking into Elizabeth's eyes, she timidly handed Elizabeth a thick letter of cream colored paper. Peering curiously down, Elizabeth recognized the hand to be Jane's, and smiled. It smells of lilacs, Elizabeth thought. This must be a good sign.

"A letter from Jane!" Elizabeth announced to her aunt and uncle, who had been curiously peering at Elizabeth. "At last. She had promised to write immediately, and it has been at present a week since we've left. (Pause) Would you be terribly upset if I begged you to postpone our outing?"

"Not at all," Mr. Gardiner replied promptly.

"We understand that you wish to read your letter. Your uncle and I shall walk to the church, and be back for you in an hour, dear," Mrs. Gardiner added with a smile.

Elizabeth watched as her uncle held the door open for her aunt, and as the two of them gave each other a smile of happiness. If only I could be so happy, Elizabeth thought to herself as she began opening the letter. These thoughts were pushed out of her mind, for she was anxious to hear what Jane had to say to her. Besides, she had promised herself she would not get caught up today thinking about her nonexistent, happy future ... and Mr. Darcy.

Dearest Lizzy,

I am sorry for my lateness in writing this letter, but so much has been happening around Meryton that I haven't had one moment's rest to own as my own. My dear nephews and nieces have commandeered most of my time, and what is not theirs has been pleasantly occupied by others.

Mary King and her uncle have recently returned to Meryton, where they have been welcomed by most. Her uncle seems to be a very pleasant man, and has come to speak with our father on a few occasions. Our father thinks somewhat highly of the man, but finds him incapable of raising his young niece on his own. George Wickham has been renewing his addresses to Mary King, and everyone believes that they will soon be engaged. I know that you will worry, Lizzy, but I am sure that Wickham's attentions must not be the worst. Besides, Mary's uncle seems to be a very educated and intelligent man, and I am sure that he would detect any foul play by Wickham. Besides, Mr. King and Mr. Wickham seem to be good friends, for what I can see.

It has been rumored that the militia will be heading to Brighton for the summer, and that rumor was confirmed yesterday by Colonel Forester. Kitty and Lydia are anxiously trying to urge Father into taking our family there for a holiday, but find no avail. Father has very determinedly said 'no', and to me, no amount of whining will make him relent. Besides, there is a very good reason why we cannot leave Meryton this summer.

Yes, you have probably guessed it. Mr. Bingley renewed his addresses to me. He came calling just an hour after you left, and has been at our home every day since. On Wednesday, he and I went on a walk to Oakham Mountain, where he proposed to me. I must confess that I am so happy that I do not know what to write! It makes me so happy when I realize that he loves me, Lizzy! He told me that himself, and confessed that, if not for his sister's indifference, he would have proposed last fall!

Oh, but I must be taking up too much of your time! I write to ask you and our aunt and uncle to immediately return home, as Mr. Bingley is planning on having the wedding next Sunday, which does not give us much time for planning. Mama has been very impatient, saying that she needs our Aunt Gardiner to tell her where the best warehouses are. God speed and God bless to you, our aunt and uncle.

Your loving sister,
Jane Bennet

"He proposed!" Elizabeth exclaimed out loud to the empty room. "Oh, how wonderful. I know they will be very happy together!"

That one thought seemed to give Elizabeth the energy she needed, the energy that she had lost in her many worried thoughts the night before. With that happy thought in her mind, Elizabeth went in search of Hannah, to be sent to find her aunt and uncle at the church. Hannah went quickly on her way, leaving Elizabeth to her own thoughts as she went back up to her room.

Now, if only you could be so happy ... a little voice stated in a singsong voice. Elizabeth shook her head and peered down at her hands. Her ring finger seemed to be the most noticeable, and, for a moment, Elizabeth wondered what it would be like to wear an engagement ring. To feel the joy that an engaged woman feels ....

"I will never be happy, or feel that joy," Elizabeth murmured to herself. "Not without Mr. Darcy. He is the only man I will ever love."

But does he love you in return?

"He did, once," Elizabeth cried to herself. "But now I do not know what he feels for me."

The proposal was a mistake. I don't deserve you ...

"Oh, what does it mean? He says that he does not deserve me, but that is the ultimate phrase of humility. Mr. Darcy would never stoop so low as to humiliate himself, but what else could it be?" Elizabeth asked herself angrily. "Oh, if only I was certain that he loved me. But I am no closer to knowing that today than I was last night." With that, Elizabeth burst out crying.

"Elizabeth!" Mrs. Gardiner cried. "What is the matter?"

Elizabeth was shocked when she looked up and saw her aunt and uncle standing before her with worried looks on their faces. They must think something is wrong at Longbourn. Oh, how selfish of me to sit here like this! No wonder Mr. Darcy despises me! I am the most selfish, uncaring creature on the face of the earth!

"Forgive me, but I am not crying because I am sad, but because I am happy!" Elizabeth lied, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Jane and Mr. Bingley are engaged!"

"How wonderful!" Mrs. Gardiner exclaimed, and Mr. Gardiner nodded.

"Jane wrote for us to return quickly to Longbourn, as the wedding will be on Sunday, and there are many things to be done by then, such as buying her gown," Elizabeth added, and her aunt nodded.

"She is quite right, and I believe we can leave within the half hour," Mrs. Gardiner replied. "Oh, how wonderful! She will make a very lovely bride."

"Now when is your turn, Lizzy? Jane has never outdone you on any matter, and I am sure that this one is no different. When will your toss in love be?" Mr. Gardiner joked, and Elizabeth just forced out a laugh.

When will be my turn? Will the day ever come when I am a bride? Will I ever know the joy of being engaged, planning my wedding, and walking down the aisle, amongst my closest friends and family, to my awaiting fiancée? But who would I marry? There is no man I would wish to call my husband than Mr. Darcy, but if he is indifferent to me, then who is left? Will I remain an old maid for the rest of my days?

Marriage is more complicated than everyone makes it out to be, Elizabeth concluded with a sigh.

"Sir, a letter just arrived for you," Mrs. Reynolds said formally, handing Mr. Darcy a thin letter stained with ink.

"Thank you," Darcy replied calmly, as he turned the letter over and over in his hands. It is from Bingley. At last. Darcy smiled when he thought about what the letter most likely contained, and carefully slit open the letter. As Darcy began to skim over the letter, which was written in Mr. Bingley's sloppy hand with blots and blotches of ink all about, a smile grew on Darcy's face that was later replaced by a scowl.

Dear Darcy,

I hardly know where to begin, but I am certain that you already know what I am to tell you. Jane Bennet has accepted my proposal, and we are to wed on Sunday. I ask you to hurry to Hertfortshire, as the wedding will take place on Sunday and the engagement assembly on Thursday.

As another note, I write to inform you that Wickham and Mary King are also to be engaged shortly. I know that you and Mr. Wickham were friends at some time, and would probably wish to know this information (if you have not already heard of it from George himself).

God speed to you and God bless.

Charles Bingley

"Charles and Jane are engaged," Darcy said out loud with a smile on his face. "I knew it would happen. Only a matter of time."

They deserve each other, a voice stated.

"Yes, they do. I am only glad that I was able to correct my error in judgment, allowing them to come together, before it was too late," Mr. Darcy replied. I must be going mad...I'm talking to myself.

Miss Elizabeth will be very happy ...

What of Wickham? the voice asked, and Darcy scowled.

"What of him? Poor Mary King, to be persuaded into love by that ... pig," Darcy muttered angrily. "All for her ten thousand a year."

Like Georgiana ...

"Exactly like Georgiana. But this time, like the last, I will not let him win," Darcy spat angrily as he took out a piece of paper and began to write a letter to Hertfortshire.

Chapter 6

Posted on Friday, 25 January 2002

Thursday, the engagement assembly at Netherfield

Elizabeth stood near the wall, looking out at all of the happy couples that were dancing. Elizabeth envied their joy, and wished desperately for her own prince to come and be by her side. But that thought was in vain, for Elizabeth knew from Caroline Bingley that Darcy would not be arriving until tomorrow, around noon. If only he was here now ... Elizabeth thought, remembering their dance together at the Netherfield Ball last fall. Things were so different then, when all Elizabeth wanted to do was spite Mr. Darcy, and prove that he was wrong. For what, if had not mattered. But Elizabeth had to laugh when she realized how foolish she had been.

All I wanted was to show him that money does not make a person right, or superior. Now, all I want is to show him that I love him. But my past error could be the downfall of any hopes we had of marrying, for he would not want to marry a girl who was so impertinent. Not someone who was so decidedly below him in every possible way. Not now.

Everyone that evening seemed to have found love. Couples, whispering and laughing at individual jokes and comments, filled the rooms. Mr. and Mrs. Bennet were not fighting, but were, at the moment, speaking of something that had brought a smile to both of their faces. Jane and Bingley were off in the dining room, laughing one minute and whispering quietly the next. Even her youngest sisters, Kitty and Lydia, were enjoying the company of only one officer each, which was a strange surprise for those two teases. Elizabeth was even jealous of Mr. Wickham and Mary King, who stood by the door murmuring to each other with looks of felicity on their faces, their eyes locked together in sheer passion.

Suddenly, the doors burst open with the violence of a hurricane, and through the shaking duo came Mr. King, Mary's uncle. Everyone seemed stunned with this entrance, but were more shocked at Mr. King's appearance. His face was bright red, his eyes blazing with fire and anger, his hair tattered and disheveled, his clothes nowhere worthy of a ball (nor the streets, for that matter), and his right fist was clenched around a white piece of paper.

" Get your hands off my niece!" Mr. King roared in Wickham's direction.

Everyone gasped in horror, and Mr. Wickham, clearly startled, took a few steps away from Mary King as if she had smallpox, or was about to cut off his head in the next few seconds. Mr. Bingley and Jane exchanged a look, as well as Elizabeth and her father, who were shocked by this unexpected entrance, and comment. Many couples and groups around the floor murmured in anticipation of what would come next (for any type of amusement, even some that could turn deadly, was always sought in such a quiet town like Meryton). Whatever could be the matter? Elizabeth asked herself.

"Mr. King, whatever is wrong?" Bingley asked cautiously, in case the distraught man was carrying a weapon. Bingley walked over from the dining area to the dance floor, a sick look masked onto his face. He, nor Jane, wanted to see anything happen at this party, and were both worried with what might commence if Mr. King was not calmed down immediately.

"That ... that pig! That swine! That scoundrel! I don't want that man anywhere near my niece!" Mr. King replied angrily.

"Mr. King, whatever is the problem?" Wickham asked nonchalantly, finally finding his voice. He looks pale, Elizabeth noted.

"The matter is that I trusted you! I thought you truly loved my Mary, when all you really loved was her ten thousand a year! " Mr. King angrily spat.

"Sir, are you accusing me of being a fortune hunter?" Wickham asked, laughing, which caused a few others to force out a chuckle. "The audacity."

Wickham looked towards Mary, expecting her to see the humor in it as well, but her face showed nothing but pure shock and angst. Wickham took a step towards her, but Mary quickly took two towards Kitty, trying desperately to get away from Wickham. She believes her uncle's good opinion over Mr. Wickham's. She must be smarter than I thought her to be, Elizabeth observed with a laugh.

"How about I read you a letter, Mr. Wickham, from an 'old friend'?" Mr. King asked smugly, and Wickham's faced became concerned yet cool.

Dear Mr. King,

Be not alarmed sir, upon receiving this letter, as I have never written or spoken to you before. However, I write to you about your niece, Mary King, and her relationship with Mr. Wickham. I would like to warn you of Mr. Wickham's malicious character, for which I must first lay before you my ties with him.

Mr. Wickham's father was my father's steward, and we grew up together, becoming friends. After Mr. Wickham's early death, my father supported him in both life and in school. Five years ago, my own excellent father died, and he wished that he would have a position in the church. Mr. Wickham, however, did not want that position, and was instead given three thousand pounds for a steady living, with the intention of studying the law. This request was granted, and I did not see him until last summer, when our paths met again under the most tragic circumstances.

To be blunt, Mr. King, as you are wondering what point I am raising with all of this, Mr. Wickham attempted to elope with my sister last summer, in Ramsgate. She was then but fifteen, but possessed a large dowry of thirty thousand pounds, which was Mr. Wickham's primary motive. I, luckily, was able to stop the elopement before it could take place, and I write to you now in the hopes of stopping any elopement that could take place between Miss King and Mr. Wickham, for I know this type of shame is not below him. I understand that your niece has ten thousand a year, and I ask you to warn her to be careful of Mr. Wickham until she is assured of his love.

I also ask you to speak with the tradesmen in the town, and have them watch out for Mr. Wickham, as he is not one to pay off his debts before he leaves a town. Also, I give you permission to divulge this information to anyone that you feel will need to hear this information, as Mr. Wickham's malicious character should be known to the world. If you need further proof of his actions, you may write to my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, at ________, for he knows all of the particulars that I have written to you.

God Bless,
Fitzwilliam Darcy

"Good Lord!" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed loudly, breaking the silence. "Poor Mr. Darcy!"

"My word!" Lady Lucas added, as everyone's heads turned towards Mr. Wickham for his defense.

"I cannot believe that you believe the words of Mr. Darcy, whose motive has been to belittle me to the world!" Mr. Wickham replied with a laugh. "You remember how he acted when he was here last fall!"

Murmurs began around the hall, and Elizabeth glanced around furiously. How can they believe the words of Mr. Wickham? Do they think so lowly of Mr. Darcy that they cannot comprehend his telling the truth? Can they honesty take Mr. Wickham's side, after he has been so deceptive to those around him? How can he even deny the truth written on that paper? What if no one believes what Mr. Darcy has written? I suppose it would be up to me to verify the truth, to protect Mary King from Mr. Wickham. But still...

"But would Mr. Darcy make up a slander about his own sister?" Mrs. Long asked, and more murmurs were heard around the room.

"That is what I thought myself, Mrs. Long, and I immediately wrote to this Colonel Fitzwilliam," Mr. King replied. "The things he wrote in his letter almost matched what Mr. Darcy told me, and there is no doubt in my mind that he or his cousin was lying."

"Ha! Mr. Darcy could have written to the Colonel with the same information that he wrote to you!" Wickham exclaimed. "He is trying to ruin any chances of happiness I have with your niece, and will stop at no lengths to accomplish this!" Wickham looked at Mary King, who was slowly inching more towards her uncle and away from him.

"Sir, do you question these two men's honor?" Mr. King spat, and Mr. Wickham nodded.

"Why are we taking the word of a man that the whole town hates, and a man that no one knows?" Wickham questioned to the group.

"He has a point," someone in the group murmured, and some nods were seen among the party.

Elizabeth knew that she had to do something, fast, or else Mr. Wickham would once again be found victorious. The town had to know of Mr. Wickham's true character, which would involve exposing the lies that seemed so much like the truth to these people. Elizabeth thought long and hard of what to do, and in the end there was only one answer to her question. For Georgiana's and Fitzwil...Mr. Darcy's sake, Elizabeth would have to confess what she knew. Here goes nothing, she thought.

"I know of these particulars as well," Elizabeth said loudly from her spot in the room as she finally found her tongue, and Mr. Wickham went pale.

"You?" Mr. Wickham asked, his face sickly, and Elizabeth nodded.

"I have it in a letter from last April, if you don't believe my word on the matter, but everything that Mr. King has read is the truth," Elizabeth confessed.

"What do you have to say to that, Wickham?" Mr. King asked smugly.

"Why would Mr. Darcy write to you about such things, Miss Bennet?" Wickham asked with a devilish smile, not wanting to give up yet.

" You spoke some accusations of his character, and I decided to find out if they were indeed true," Elizabeth added. "I found that every thing you accused him was false, and that you were the true villain. If you need further proof, I believe I still hold possession to the letter."

"I ... I ..." Mr. Wickham began. Proof? he exclaimed angrily in head. How am I to go against proof, especially from Miss Bennet, who I thought surely was my biggest supporter? I must get out of here ... But before he could leave, he would have to end on a good note, so that no one would worry about his character. Wickham looked around the room in vain for someone to help him, to put in one good word.

But there was none. Small whispers began going around the room, and Elizabeth knew that they had believed her. It was my word against Wickham's, and I have more credibility in this town that he, Elizabeth realized. However, Elizabeth was only glad that she had saved Mr. Darcy's and Colonel Fitzwilliam's reputation from those who would have otherwise doubted their truth.

"What have you to say now, Mr. Wickham?" Mr. King repeated, and Mr. Wickham just looked at him with fire in his eyes.

"I would not have married your daughter if she was the last woman on the planet," Wickham spat. "She may have a fortune, but that is the only thing she has ."

With that, Wickham walked quickly towards the door, knocking aside a few shocked people. Muttering and mumbling as he walked, he pushed open the two doors with the same animosity that Mr. King had, and Elizabeth could hear him cursing the entire way down the stairs. What an interesting way to end such a promising evening, Elizabeth thought to herself as she shook her head and went off to find her sister amongst the crowd.

Chapter 7

Posted on Friday, 25 January 2002

"What a strange turn of events," Jane said as she sat down upon her bed. "Who would have thought Wickham's malicious character would finally come out, if he was so very bad."

"It is a shame that it had to come out at your engagement assembly," Elizabeth added, sitting down next to Jane. "You are much too good to put up with it."

"I do feel terribly for poor Mr. Wickham, to have his past brought back with such wrath," Jane confessed. "Perhaps he was ready to change his ways before Mr. King exposed him so?"

"No, Jane, you will never make Mr. Wickham good. I have told you that before, and I will tell you again until you believe me!" Elizabeth exclaimed with a laugh.

"But to be so dreadful that he would elope with a girl only for her money ... no, Lizzy. No one can be so bad," Jane disagreed.

"If only I could believe you," Elizabeth replied. "I suppose Mr. Bingley felt the same way as you on this matter?"

"Yes ..." Jane admitted sheepishly.

"Why am I not surprised?" Elizabeth teased. "Really, you two are too perfect for each other. I am certain you will be very happy in your life together."

"But what of you, dear Lizzy?" Jane asked sincerely, taking Elizabeth's hands into her own. "I know there is such a man out there who fulfills every requirement of yours. When will I see you happily married off to the man of your dreams? When will I see you with your children, my dear nephews and nieces? When will I see you so happy?"

Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth thought quietly. Oh, Jane! If you only knew that you might never see me married to the man of my dreams, or to any man! If you only knew that I may never feel the joy that you feel, knowing that there is someone out there who loves you as vastly as the heavens. If you only knew that there would never be any children of mine for you to visit with, for you to give treats to and become their favorite 'Auntie Jane'. If you only knew what I was going through, knowing that my true love despises me and thinks nothing more of me than a common peasant. If I only had the answer to your question, I would gladly tell you, but I cannot! I have no hope in the world of ever being so happy.

With this thought in her head, Elizabeth began to cry. The tears that had been building up inside of her all evening came out at this first opportunity of freedom, daredevil tears that streamed down her face with bravery and courage. At first, only a few tears trickled down, but soon they were slow, steady tears that ran quickly down her blushed cheeks. Elizabeth turned her head towards the window and tried uselessly to wipe these few stragglers away, fearful of what Jane would say when she discovered her sister crying. But soon, they began to increase in intensity, not stopping for anything, and (as a last resort) Elizabeth hastily put her face into her hands. Here the tears had free reign, and Elizabeth absolutely dissolved into a wave of sadness.

"Elizabeth! Whatever is the matter!" Jane exclaimed, clearly surprised at her sister's sudden action. Jane immediately began to criticize herself mentally for her words, but wondering what could have possibly made her resistant sister act so ... altered. "Elizabeth!"

"He hates me, Jane! I'm sure that he despises me!" Elizabeth sobbed into her hands, causing a muffle to come out that Jane had a hard time translating.

"Who hates you, dearest?" Jane asked softly, allowing Elizabeth to cry into her shoulder as she stroked her hair gently. "Who despises you?"

"The only man I'll ever love. The only man I could ever marry," Elizabeth cried bitterly. "The only man who I want to be the father of my children. The man that I could never hope would love me back."

"Yes, but who?" Jane asked calmly. "There is no one I could think of that would make you cry so...unless...it is...Mr. Darcy?" Jane gave her sister a confused look, and Elizabeth just moaned out a reply.

"Oh, Jane! I love him,

"But he loved you once! What would make a man so violently in love with you alter his affections? No, Lizzy, I believe that you are wrong about this. I believe that you have misjudged Mr. Darcy's feelings," Jane argued. "Why would he hate you?"

"Why wouldn't he?" Elizabeth disputed. "I have nothing to offer that would induce him into matrimony. Our family seems to lack propriety and protocol, and I know that Mr. Darcy would never make an alliance with such people. I have no charms to recommend to him, nor a large fortune that would catch his eye ..."

"But Elizabeth, you have many good qualities, and I doubt that Mr. Darcy would be affected by our family's situation or by your lack of a dowry ..." Jane interrupted, and Elizabeth just scowled.

"Say what you may, but I know that I am right. I suppose now that any hopes of Mr. Darcy ever loving me are ... nonexistent," Elizabeth said, wringing her hands and breathing heavily. "He, like any other man of the world, would never marry without something to gain. He has nothing to gain from such a marriage to me."

"Elizabeth, you can offer him what any man would want ... your undying, true love," Jane replied, tears coming to her own eyes. "Love is what makes men rich, not money or property. Your love is something that no one else can give him, and something that, if he does not accept, he will regret losing for the rest of his life!"

"Do you really think so?" Elizabeth asked doubtfully.

"I know so," Jane replied with a smile.

"True love conquers all," Elizabeth said quietly. "Do you believe that Mr. Darcy and I could be true love?"

"I don't believe it. I know it to be true," Jane said forcefully.

"Oh, but it is useless! When would I ever see Mr. Darcy again to prove to him that I love him?" Elizabeth sobbed. "I have no hopes of ever seeing him again, after what happened at Pemberley..." Elizabeth shut her mouth quickly as the painful memories cascaded back.

"What happened, Lizzy?" Jane asked, giving Elizabeth a quizzical look.

"I saw him," Elizabeth stated simply. "He looked so ... sad and melancholy, like his heart was piercing in two, yet he looked so handsome. All I wanted to do was be with him, to hold him and tell him that everything that was bothering him would be fine in the end."

"Then what happened?"

"We spoke, and I apologized for what I said to him in Kent after the ... proposal," Elizabeth uttered, her mind taking her back to that day. "Then ... then he ... he said ... that the proposal was a mistake, that he never should have made it, and that ... (pause) ... that he never deserved me!"

Elizabeth dissolved back into tears, resting her head on her sister's shoulder. Jane was aghast at this, yet confused by Mr. Darcy's words. On the outside, they seemed to mean one thing, while the inside showed another meaning. Jane searched her brain for something, some words that would make her sister feel as if there was hope for finding returned love from Mr. Darcy.

"Elizabeth, I don't believe that you should give up hope from these few words," Jane murmured quietly into her sister's ear. "I don't believe that they mean what you expect them to."

"What else can they mean but the fact that he hates me? He regrets the proposal, Jane!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"I believe he thinks that you are indifferent to him, Elizabeth, not the other way around," Jane replied, and Elizabeth gasped with wide eyes.

"What?"

"Elizabeth, I believe that he regrets proposing to you because it is causing him heartache. He feels that he never deserved you enough to make that proposal in the first place, and is just as tormented by his feelings for you as yours for him," Jane gently said, dabbing Elizabeth's wet face with a nearby rag.

"Do you really?" Elizabeth asked hopefully. "Do you believe that he may love me still?"

"I do," Jane answered honestly, then paused for a moment. "He is to come to Netherfield tomorrow afternoon, and is to stay until the wedding, or so is as Charles has told me."

"I see."

"If you were to accompany me on my visit tomorrow, you may perhaps see him, and be able to talk to him," Jane concluded, and Elizabeth just sighed.

"What if you are wrong, though, and he really does despise me?" Elizabeth asked with a heavy heart and a trembling lip. "I don't know what I would do ..."

"You'll never know unless you talk to him, and you won't talk to him unless you come with me tomorrow," Jane insisted, and Elizabeth nodded.

"You are right, Jane, as always," Elizabeth said, giving her sister a quick peck on the cheek. "I wish I was as good as you."

"You are, Elizabeth. You are." Jane replied as Elizabeth walked towards the door.

"Sweet dreams, Jane," Elizabeth said quietly before shutting the door and retreating to her own room.

Inside her own room, snuggled up in her covers, Elizabeth prayed that Jane was right, for she knew not what to think if she was wrong. Elizabeth tried to focus all of her energy towards a positive thought for the next day, when she would finally be able to know once and for all what Mr. Darcy had meant that day at Pemberley, and to thank him for his kindness towards Mary King.

And to tell him that she loved him.

Chapter 8

Posted on Saturday, 9 February 2002

The next morning found the entire Bennet family, except one, in the sitting room, using every opportunity of good sunlight that day held. It had been raining lately, and the sun was a pleasant surprise yet a rare commodity, and had to be used while it was available. There would most likely be plenty more rainy days to spend moping about, where the girls would be unable to work on any of their fine crafts, but today was not one of them. Mr. Bennet was busy reading, never uttering one word and only making the necessary sounds of turned pages. Mary did not know what to do with her time, and spent it going between the piano and one of her thick, boring books. Kitty and Lydia spent most of the morning whispering and giggling before hastily announcing that they were to visit their Aunt Phillips. And, most importantly, Jane and Elizabeth sat working on their needlepoint, gazing at each other ever few minutes with looks that only they knew the meaning to.

Mrs. Bennet was away that morning, busy meeting with Lady Lucas, Mrs. Long, and many of the other ladies of substance for tea in town. After last night's big event, Mrs. Bennet was eager to freshen up on the recent gossip, including any word on Wickham, Mary King, or Mr. Darcy. It could not be said that Mrs. Bennet's intentions were not selfish, as they were. After the shocking confession last night, Mr. Darcy had become the most sought after gentleman in Meryton, and every young lady who was not engaged (and some who were) were busily talking about him and praising him every time they were near Mr. Bingley or Jane. Every young girl in the town wished to be Mrs. Darcy, and every mother wanted to be able to call Mr. Darcy, Mr. Ten-thousand a year, Master of Pemberley, their son. Yet none was more eager than Mrs. Bennet, who wished for one of her own four unattached daughters to make the sought after union.

At around noon, the front door was heard, opening and closing loudly, and Mrs. Bennet could be heard clomping about in the front entryway, making a loud grunt or sigh every now and then. Mr. Bennet momentarily looked up from his book, only to roll his eyes at Elizabeth before returning to it. Jane and Elizabeth exchanged a nervous glance, while Mary tried to sit up straight and look presentable (It had to be said that she wished, above all, that Mr. Darcy would bestow some of his attentions on her...)

"Oh, Lordy me! My dearest girls! Mr. Bennet!" Mrs. Bennet cried, walking into the room and shaking her hands towards the ceiling. "You will never believe the news I have heard!" Four pairs of eyes immediately looked towards her, begging her to continue. A captive audience, Mrs. Bennet thought, a smile coming to her lips.

"What, my dear?" Mr. Bennet asked, and Mrs. Bennet just clucked.

"As you know, I went to have tea with some of the ladies in town. Mrs. Long, Lady Lucas, Mrs. De Whit, Mrs. Allen, and the usual group."

"Yes, Mrs. Bennet, we were quite aware of that," Mr. Bennet teased, acting uninterested.

"The entire topic was of last night!" Mrs. Bennet cooed. "Mr. Darcy has become quite the hero of the town, after what he did for Mary King. Everyone was so impressed by how kind and benevolent he was, writing that letter to protect Mary, and the town, from the injustice of Mr. Wickham. Not to mention the risk he took by speaking of such a slander about his own sister, which was a very gamble if it was not believed. But I believe he must be a very compassionate and intelligent brother."

"Indeed, he was very noble," Mr. Bennet agreed.

"Of course he was noble! What else would a gentleman such as himself be?" Mrs. Bennet spat, somewhat vexed. "Oh, but I must tell you of the conversations!"

"I am all ears, Mrs. Bennet," Mr. Bennet replied in mock interest. "You must tell me how much the lace on Lady Lucas' gown cost, or I believe I shall go mad."

"Oh Mr. Bennet! How can you take such pleasure in vexing me so? I have half a mind not to tell you what occurred, but I shall, for our girls' sakes. First of all, Mr. King was there, sipping his tea and looking as proud and arrogant as ever as he gloated about how wonderful Mr. Darcy was to his poor daughter!" Mrs. Bennet replied with an angry look. "Then, he had the nerve to say that Mr. Darcy will most likely propose to his Mary! Can you believe the audacity of that man? To make an assumption with such temerity?"

"No, Mrs. Bennet, I cannot," Mr. Bennet replied casually, looking back at his book.

"Every word that came out of his mouth was about Mr. Darcy and his ugly Mary! 'Mr. Darcy and Mary this ... Mr. Darcy has a fine estate, which Mary will be a fine mistress of ... Mary, Mistress of Pemberley has such a good ring to it...at least ten thousand a year to my Mary ... ugh!" Mrs. Bennet groaned. "That man has no class or taste whatsoever to be suggesting that a well respected man like Mr. Darcy would stoop so low. Especially with a girl who was easily captivated by the deceitful charms of malicious Mr. Wickham. "

"Mama, you must remember that Miss King does possess a large fortune, which I have heard can induce any man into the holy act of matrimony," Mary spoke up, and her mother's eyes flashed at her in anger as her lips pursed into a prune. I hope that isn't true, Elizabeth thought, or I have no hope of ever securing his attentions again.

"She may have money, but that is all that she has!" Mrs. Bennet spat. "She could not hold a candle to any of my five girls!"

"So true," Mr. Bennet added as he turned the page.

"But that is not all! You should have been at tea to hear Mrs. Long and Lady Lucas, as well as the other women, praising Mr. Darcy to the skies!" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed as she threw down her bonnet in disgust. "They were obviously trying to better themselves in Mr. Darcy's eyes, when he arrives, but were doing a very poor job at accomplishing that. Goodness knows that I was at least civil to the man while he was here, for I always thought well of him and encouraged the girls to be friendly to the man. I never saw him as proud or disagreeable."

"Yes, Mrs. Bennet," Mr. Bennet mindlessly agreed.

"Oh, to think that Mrs. Long is busy trying to plan a wedding between Mr. Darcy and one of her two nieces right this moment, after she has despised the man up until last night! Mrs. Allen also has ideas for a match between Mr. Darcy and her Nora, that plain, unaccomplished imp. Not to mention that Lady Lucas is planning the best way to throw Maria in Mr. Darcy's path!"

"It would seem to me that Mr. Darcy will have many women to choose from, if he intends to pick a wife while back in Hertfortshire," Mr. Bennet replied.

"And who better than one of our four girls? Our girls are much more talented and genteel than Maria Lucas, Nora Allen, and Mary King, even if they do have large dowries to their name," Mrs. Bennet chirped. "You must visit him as soon as possible, Mr. Bennet, when he comes back to town. I will not let a golden opportunity pass my daughters by because of their father's ignorance."

"Mama, I am sure that Mr. Darcy does not wish to be hoarded by so many girls, and their fathers, when he returns to town," Jane said softly, daring to disapprove. "He wrote to Mr. Bingley, telling him that he wishes to have a very quiet visit..."

"My goodness, Jane! All men say one the thing when they really mean another," Mrs. Bennet replied with an impatient sigh. "Besides, he must have know that what he did for Mary King would make him the hero of the town!"

"Mama..." Elizabeth and Jane both said at the same time, shooting their mother a warning glance.

"Really, girls, I will not have any of my angels lose out on such an eligible match just because they felt the need to be caring and compassionate," Mrs. Bennet replied in a huff. "Mr. Bennet, you must go to Netherfield immediately! Hurry, before any of the other husbands call on Mr. Darcy!"

"Why, when Jane and Elizabeth are to go this afternoon?" Mr. Bennet asked blandly, and Mrs. Bennet's face lit up.

"Why, yes!" Mrs. Bennet squealed. "Oh, you must go directly, so you will be there when Mr. Darcy arrives, if he has not already done so. Is the carriage not ready?"

"Yes, Mrs. Bennet, it is."

"Then off you two go!" Mrs. Bennet said hurriedly, pulling Jane up from her chair and pushing her towards the door as Elizabeth quickly followed. "I do not want either of you home before dinner, or I shall be very angry." With that, Mrs. Bennet slammed the door behind the two girls, who stood in the entryway, somewhat shocked. Elizabeth blinked her eyes a few times, and Jane just gave a small cough.

"That was somewhat unexpected," Elizabeth whispered, looking at the door. "I never knew Mama would be so eager for us to speak with Mr. Darcy."

"I am sure that it will be fine, Elizabeth," Jane comforted, seeing Elizabeth's deeper meaning in her words.

"I hope so," Elizabeth replied emotionlessly, looking at the door one last time with a heavy heart.

Chapter 9

Posted on Saturday, 9 February 2002

Pling, plink, plunk. Elizabeth's index finger bounced from note to note on the piano while Elizabeth just let out an exasperated sigh and rested her head on her hand. She had been sitting at the piano in Netherfield for quite some time, lonely and bored. Jane and Mr. Bingley were busy taking a quiet walk outside, and Elizabeth hadn't wished to be in their way, as much as she was dying to go for a walk herself in the beautiful gardens of summer's flora and fauna. Not that she had anyone to walk with, though, for Netherfield was relatively empty. No one else was at Netherfield, as Mr. Darcy had not yet arrived, so Elizabeth had nothing to do but hit notes on the piano. And wait.

Papa's book! Elizabeth exclaimed in her head after some time, causing her to come crashing down into the piano, slightly bruising her elbow. Papa wished to borrow a book from Mr. Bingley's library! I shall go down there immediately, find the book, and perhaps find one for myself that I can read while I wait. Oh, that is the perfect plan, for I shall be in no one's way, and no one will know that I am here! Elizabeth was quite happy with her scheme, and set out with a smile on her lips towards the grand library.

Elizabeth opened the door anything but quietly, as she had not expected anyone to be inside of the library. She, however, was quite shocked when she discovered Mr. Darcy sitting in a large armchair by the empty fireplace, reading a book quite intently. He looks so peaceful, Elizabeth thought as she looked at his furrowed brow, intensely curled hair, and sad, deep eyes that firmly looked at the words on each page. Elizabeth didn't wish to disturb him, as he looked so peaceful and happy, but it could not be helped in the end.

Mr. Darcy quickly looked up, and was startled to see Elizabeth walk into the room. Blast. I had thought from Bingley that we would not be seeing much of anyone while I was here, Darcy cursed. But how would he have known of Miss Bennet and my awful past? I should have told him that we were not on the best of terms since Kent, and that she probably wouldn't have wished to see me. How it causes me pain to be near her, knowing that she wishes to be far away from my presence. But it is my fault, as I should have known I'd see her, being Jane's sister and all ... Darcy stood up curtly, and gave her a small bow, not wanting to seem impolite.

"Miss Bennet," Darcy replied formally and rather stiffly. Why won't she leave me alone? Am I to be constantly reminded of what I will never be able to call my wife?

"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said somewhat cheerfully with a smile. Why does he look so angry? Was Jane wrong? "I hope I am not disturbing you."

"Not at all," Darcy replied quietly as he sat back down in his chair. "I had just arrived, and was reading as I waited for Charles to return."

"I see," Elizabeth stated, not knowing what else to say. Oh, the conversation in my head was so much easier ... I had everything mapped out to perfection. If only he'd give me an opening ... just one small opening...

Why isn't she leaving? Darcy asked himself. What more does she want from me? Darcy was on the verge of tears, and was trying to keep himself composed. He didn't want Elizabeth to see him cry, to see how weak he was without her. It would be another weakness of his that Elizabeth would dislike him for, and he couldn't bear to think that she could hate him any more than she already did.

"Mr. Darcy, we need to talk," Elizabeth said forcefully, her voice never once wavering. Mr. Darcy just looked up from his book, and thoughts, peering at her in surprise.

"About what, Miss Bennet?" he asked, never once looking into her sad eyes.

"About what you said to me at Pemberley," Elizabeth replied, somewhat impatient at his impertinence and icy tone.

"I meant what I said at Pemberley," Darcy replied coldly, putting his book down next to him.

"Yes, but what did you mean! After the way you acted that day, the least you can do is explain yourself!" Elizabeth yelled.

"I meant what I said!" Darcy shouted.

"And what was that, exactly?" Elizabeth asked, her lips pursed and her eyebrows furrowed.

"That my proposal to you in Kent was a mistake! It was fruitless of me to propose to you because I never had a chance!" Darcy exclaimed, his voice instantly becoming sad and quiet. "I never had a chance because I never deserved you!"

"But..."

"I never said one kind thing to you, or behaved the way a gentleman should have acted. I was proud and arrogant, and I acted as if you were just begging me to marry you!" Darcy added downheartedly. "My proposal was in vain, and you know it. It didn't matter how much I loved you, because I never had a chance to deserve your love in return."

"Mr. Darcy..." Elizabeth began, her heart nearly breaking in two while she braced herself from jumping for joy.

"There. You now have your precious meaning. You have something to laugh about with your friends and sisters, about how you made Mr. Darcy fall off of his high horse. How proud, rich Mr. Darcy fell in love with you and you turned him away. Now leave me be," Darcy said coldly, walking towards the door.

Elizabeth looked at him with tears in her eyes, unable to utter a sound if it was necessary to save her life. He is leaving you, almost the same way he left you after Kent. He loves you, but he will never know that you love him in return ... the voice reminded her. He will be gone forever unless you tell him ... this last word echoed in her head, and Elizabeth knew what she had to do. She would not let him get away without a fight.

"No, I will not!" Elizabeth exclaimed angrily at him, inwardly surprised at her outburst, and Darcy turned sharply around to face her. "You will sit and listen to what I have to say!"

Darcy was shocked and astonished at her outburst, and turned slowly to face her as he stood inches from the doorway. He was confused from her words, and wondered what she could possibly be so important. What more does she have to say? I know that she does not love me, as there is no possible way that she would ever. Elizabeth must wish to knock me further off my high horse by laughing at me for my confession...

"How can you say that? How can you honestly stand there and say that you don't deserve me," Elizabeth asked as she started to shake with tears. "How?"

"Miss Bennet..." Darcy began, but Elizabeth shushed him immediately.

"You said that you never had a chance with me, but how did you really know?" Elizabeth spat.

"How could you!" Darcy exploded. "How could you after the way I treated you? I acted as if you were the most inferior being, and never once showed you anything but arrogance and pride! And then I expected you to be in love with me because I was so much higher on the social scale! How could I expect your love after all that?"

"Mr. Darcy!" Elizabeth shouted, but he wasn't going to listen any further.

"Miss Bennet, good day," Darcy replied with a bow. He tried to shake his memory of her, standing there so distraught, out of his head as he walked out of the library, but was stopped when she shouted at him again.

"I love you..."

Darcy turned around sharply, taking slow breaths as he tried to calm himself to those words. She ... loves me? Were those the words that she just uttered out of her beautiful lips? Was I ... wrong? Did she always love me, even when I thought that I had no chance with her...

"What did you say?" Darcy asked slowly, his voice hoarse and wavering, as he braced the door for support. Please tell me I wasn't hallucinating...

"I love you, Fitzwilliam Darcy; so deeply, so truly, so purely. I love you more than any woman has ever loved a man before," Elizabeth said as tears ran down her cheeks. "I was the one who never deserved you, not you. I was! You were always too ... good for me, too right, too perfect. I never had a chance that you would love me in return..."

With these words, Elizabeth sunk down into the nearby couch and began to cry. What does he think of me? Elizabeth asked, over and over in her head. Only this time, there was no small voice of reassurance, but silence. What will he think of me?

Elizabeth just lay there, sobbing into her arms when she felt something next to her sit slowly down. She put this thought in the back of her mind, however, and was quite startled when she felt a hand touch her shoulder softly. Startled, Elizabeth sat up sharply, turning to look directly into Mr. Darcy's sheepish eyes that looked at her cautiously. However, Elizabeth could see a deeper emotion hidden in the two dark orbs: love.

Neither of them spoke for a few moment, as neither one had the courage to say anything. Both took opportunity at the moment and just gazed into each other's eyes. Why won't he say anything? Has he taken back his feelings for me? Perhaps he never thought I would return them, and now they are a thing of the past Elizabeth asked herself. This conversation continued on while Darcy cursed, why can't I think of anything meaningful to say? I've just ripped her heart out by acting so abominable to her, and yet I can't utter one word to make her feel better and to prove that I do love her in return.... Finally,

"Miss Bennet..." Darcy began softly, clearing his throat. "Did you really mean that?"

"I did." Darcy just sighed.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" Elizabeth asked, somewhat shocked and scared. What could he be sorry for? Has he truly been leading me on with his attentions? Or does he not love me anymore?

"For what I said at Pemberley," Darcy replied quietly. "I shouldn't have behaved so terribly."

"Why did you?" Elizabeth questioned, a tear streaming down her cheek. "I don't understand why, if you cared for me at all, you would say something so..."

"Unfeeling?" Darcy finished, brushing the tear away, and Elizabeth nodded slowly. "I thought ... no, I assumed ... that you no longer cared for me. That you wanted nothing more to do with me after ... Kent."

"But I did," Elizabeth corrected.

"If only I had thought that I had a chance, I wouldn't have behaved so...strangely," Darcy added. "I suppose I was a fool to think that I never deserved you."

"You were," Elizabeth said, sniffling, with a playful twinkle in her eyes. "You did deserve me. I was the one who didn't deserve you..."

"But you did," Darcy replied hastily, not quite noticing her playful manner.

"Mr. Darcy, I hope that you are not going to spend the afternoon arguing with me about the level of deserving in our relationship," Elizabeth teased. "You will have to say something more substantial than that."

"How about this: I loved you, Elizabeth. I loved you when I saw you standing at Pemberley. It was almost like every wish I had ever hoped for had come true. I loved you then, I loved you before, and I love you now," Darcy said gently, in slow, steady breaths, his dark eyes pleading with her. "You are the only woman I will ever love."

"Fitzwilliam..." Elizabeth exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him passionately. The two remained lip locked for some time, as if it was their last chance to be together. Finally, they reluctantly pulled apart, and Elizabeth rested her face into his shoulder with a content smile on her face.

"If I'd known you'd react like that, I would have said those words to you at Pemberley," Darcy whispered.

"Shocking my aunt and uncle in the process," Elizabeth added, raising her eyebrows playfully.

"Your aunt and uncle?" Mr. Darcy asked. "I had no idea. I wish you had introduced me, for now I believe there will be some awkwardness on my part."

"There will be plenty of opportunities to do so," Elizabeth replied. "We have our whole life."

"I love you," Darcy whispered in her ear.

"I love you too," Elizabeth murmured into his shoulder as she started to cry.

Darcy was confused by her tears, and turned her head so her face met his.

"Whatever is the matter?" Darcy asked, worried.

"I am so happy," Elizabeth replied, a smile coming to her lips. "You love me."

"Do not cry, dearest," Mr. Darcy said, almost begging her to stop, as her tears made him want to cry.

"When shall I ever see you cry, proud Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth asked, coy. "When will I ever be able to kiss away your tears?"

"You are assuming that the proud Mr. Darcy cries, Miss Bennet."

"You do not, sir?" Elizabeth asked with pretend innocence. "I shall never see you cry?"

"Well, there is one situation that perhaps I may..."

"And what would that be, Mr. Darcy?"

"My wedding," Mr. Darcy replied bluntly, and Elizabeth laughed.

"You will have to find a wife first, although I doubt you will have very much trouble in Meryton," Elizabeth replied, trying to choke back her bursts of giggles.

"I can think of one woman I desperately hope would become my wife..."

"Who is that? I cannot think of anyone, except for dear Caroline Bingley," Elizabeth replied in a high, snooty voice. Darcy began to laugh, but then looked down at his hands and became very calm and composed.

"Marry me," Darcy said after some time, looking into her eyes with love and ardent passion. "Make me the happiest of men."

"And what if I refused?" Elizabeth teased, not willing to give in so easily.

"My plan is to kidnap you, take you to Gretna Green, and force you to marry me," Darcy replied playfully, kissing Elizabeth lightly on the lips.

"I don't believe my father would like it if you did that, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth mischievously said, rising to the occasion, but Darcy became somewhat quiet again.

"Elizabeth," He replied huskily, his breaths slowing as he looked his love in her eyes. "Marry me."

To see him ask her like that, with such passion and feeling, Elizabeth could not refuse his proposal (not that she would have). Elizabeth looked back up into Darcy's face, her eyes full of the same love that he was radiating, and nodded her head slowly, whispering:

"I will." Darcy was a bit stunned and shocked, and looked at Elizabeth with wide eyes. Did she really say the words that I have prayed she would? Darcy asked himself, in denial.

"I will marry you," Elizabeth murmured into his shoulder. "Are you beginning to doubt my sincerity, Mr. Darcy?"

"Fitzwilliam," Darcy corrected hastily, and Elizabeth smiled.

"Fitzwilliam. I do like the sound of that," Elizabeth said slowly with a smile.

"Shall we inform your sister and my friend of our engagement?" Darcy asked.

"They can wait," Elizabeth replied, embracing her fiancée. To them, they had all the time in the world.

Epilogue

Posted on Saturday, 9 February 2002

Elizabeth and Darcy were married, as can be expected when two people are so much in love. For the two were, despite their earlier differences of opinion and thought that had kept them apart and draw them together. The life that the two shared afterwards was one of happiness and bliss, for nothing could conquer or demolish the strong love that the two had for each other. That is all that really needs to be said on that matter, except for one, smaller time less than a year later...

"Fitzwilliam Darcy!" Elizabeth scolded as her husband sheepishly pulled away from a kiss. "Why you are not watching the sunset is a mystery to me. Look at how beautiful all of the colors are, blended together."

"I can watch the sun set any day I want to," Darcy replied directly. "However, I don't want to take my eyes off of your beauty for one second."

"Flattery will get you no where in life," Elizabeth teased, with a sigh. "Did you ever imagine everything would end like this? So...happy?"

"What if I said that I didn't?" Darcy asked. "What if I told you that barely a year ago I sat under this very tree, contemplating about how I had lost you? About how I was the last man on earth who deserved you as a wife?"

"Oh, William..."

"It is the truth. I thought there was no way in the world that I could ever induce you into matrimony, and that you despised my being. That you hated me for my proposal and my behavior to you in Kent, and Hertfortshire. I had resolved myself to that thought, however unhappy it might sound now."

"But here we are," Elizabeth said with a smile. "I have proved you wrong, Mr. Darcy, and that cannot be good for your character."

"I admit defeat," Darcy said with a laugh. "I know better than to go against you."

"You admit you were in the wrong?" Elizabeth asked, half serious and half playful.

"I do," Darcy replied, giving her a lingering kiss. "I always deserved you."

The End

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