Without Pride Or Prejudice -- Section I

By Dawn R.

Section I, Next Section

Part 1

Posted on Monday, 19-Oct-98

The Austen household was alive with activity. One of their own was returning home after six long weeks. Although it would not be entirely accurate to say Elizabeth Bennet lived there, she did occupy Elizabeth's room eight out of twelve months last year.

Jane Bennet, her elder sister, married Dr. Andrew Austen three years previously. After the wedding ceremony, Jane and Andrew went forth to Austen House, Dr. Austen's family home in London. There they took up residence with Andrew's father, Mr. Edward Austen.

All agreed Dr. Austen would pursue his medical practice in the impoverished districts of that fine town, without charge to his would-be patients. Whereas many people had their doubts of the propriety of such an activity, Mr. Austen gave his full support to his son's endeavor.

Mr. Austen was considered a progressive by many of his fellow men. He held social status and class discrimination in low esteem, valuing merit and personal attributes above individual wealth and birthright. As a man not prone to discount the plight of the poor, Mr. Austen took great care of the men and women who worked in his service, referring to them as "attendants", not what he considered the degrading term of "servants". Of course, he could afford to be charitable in his opinions as well as his finances, for he was a wealthy man who could want for nothing material. The only aspect of his life he would consider lacking was in family members to share his generous nature with.

When Andrew married Jane, she brought a large, diverse group of people into their small circle. For the most part, it could be said Mr. Austen enjoyed his inherited relatives. As in most extended families, there are always an individual or two who attempt to spoil the harmony between others, whether it be motivated by spite, greed, jealousy, or simple ignorance. His daughter-in-law's family was no exception. Over time, Mr. Austen took instruction (by watching Jane) on the fine art of ignoring the "spoilers" and guiding conversations to leave no opening for a display of bad behavior. He constructed a sport out of this new activity, mentally keeping score on how many times he washed over a nasty comment, or changed a subject matter without being obvious.

Mr. Austen's tendency to derive felicity from life was a great source of enjoyment to his family and friends; it was often commented "a visit to Austen House would elevate one's spirit". Rarely did a day go by when there were not callers eager to visit with any of the three fashionable Austens.

When Elizabeth Bennet was in residence, the numbers of callers (particularly single gentlemen who may or may not be searching for a wife) noticeably increased. She had once been described as possessing an air of dignity, uncomplicated by conceit and pettiness, but with just enough independent thought to make her interesting and fresh. When combined with her pretty face and abundance of wit, she stood a good chance of being looked upon with a friendly eye.

Also noted in her representation, although more men considered it as a challenge than not, was that no man had yet won her heart. Her lack of a proper dowry did keep many would-be suitors away, but the independent gentlemen who not need concern themselves with bettering their financial position through marriage came to inspect this woman.

Elizabeth took her celebrity in stride. She did not find it distasteful, for who in her position could? Rather, she received great diversion from the young men and what she called their "quest for a wife".

She understood the matrimony process well enough to apprehend that she would be saving them all a great deal of time if she were put in a display case and sat out in front of the house. Eager gentlemen could then simply pass by and judge her, saving them all the inconvenience of polite conversation in the parlor. Of course, she reasoned that it would get rather hot and tiring standing outside all morning, surrounded by glass. Not to mention that a chair to sit on would simply be improper!

This was Elizabeth's attitude, and it kept her from taking the attention too seriously. She had yet to find a man enter into Austen House who could possibly tempt her. It was not as if her expectations were too lofty and unapproachable, but she would never consider entering into the married state without the deepest love.

Elizabeth had the advantage of observing her sister's marriage, and she used it as a comparison point, right or wrong, on which to base her standards. Jane and Andrew were the happiest of couples. Their intimacy was of the best sort for it was based on mutual respect and admiration. Even in the most content of marriages, there would always be tensions and misunderstandings, but the Austens vowed to resolve such difficulties as soon as they arose. Their union proved to Elizabeth marital bliss could exist, despite what she had observed from her own parents, and she was determined to never settle for less.

Elizabeth was a confident woman who took a great deal of care in forming her opinions, but she was not infallible. There were times when her judgment was proven wrong, most often at great expense to her ego.

A gentleman had affected her once and only once, but she realized his true nature before it was too late. Mr. Ian Dobbs came to call last year in September. An Irish gentleman of noble decent, he appeared all that was genteel and handsome. His personal fortune was estimated at 8,000 a year, although it possibly could have been more. He presented himself well, wooing Elizabeth and the Austen family with unaffectedness and elegance. If it was not for his love of brandy, he may have succeeded in gaining a wife. Fate was not working for Mr. Dobbs's though, and after consuming a wee bit too much one night during cards, his other side was unveiled. Mr. Dobbs was a belligerent drunk, cross and barbarous.

Two days after the brandy episode, he returned to apologize to the family. Being good Christians, they accepted his apology with forgiveness. It was at this point where Mr. Dobbs may have confused forgiveness with forgetfulness, because he went about asking for Elizabeth's hand not five minutes afterward. Needless to say, he was promptly turned down and ushered from the house.

The amount of time Elizabeth spent at Austen House grew with each visit. Jane, in unison with husband and father-in-law, enjoyed her company and had grown to depend on it. To them, Elizabeth was as much a part of the family as they were.

The event of last year made Elizabeth uncomfortable in her mother's presence, for Mrs. Bennet was informed of the refusal of Mr. Dobbs and voiced her displeasure over it often. This being the situation at home, Elizabeth sought the refuge her Austen family afforded. It was not simply for a bed to sleep in, but for the people who resided in the house. She had grown quite relaxed in her London surroundings; it nurtured her need for a loving, stimulating environment. Here she was free to express herself -- within reason. The exposure to clever, philosophical people aided in expanding her understanding of the world. She now realized she could never go back to being the naive country girl she had once been.

The carriage delivering her from Longbourn to London reached the outskirts of town. She felt the tension of the prior six weeks leave her. Gone were the hurt feelings, the frustration, and dread of being away another day.

Elizabeth Bennet was almost home.

Part 2

Posted on Tuesday, 20-Oct-98

The Austen men were gathered in the parlor with their guests. Mr. Austen or "Papa Austen" as he preferred to be called by family, was pacing the room, paying little attention to the other gentlemen. Every few minutes he would peek out the window, believing he heard a carriage pull up, only to find none. The anxiety of having Elizabeth traveling through the streets of London at this busy hour was wearing on his patience. He worried after her as if she were his own child. In fact, in his mind, she was like a daughter. Her disposition matched his more closely than his son's. Andrew was a compliant man, always seeking harmony, while Mr. Austen and Elizabeth would rather spend their time arguing over the definition of harmony.

Mr. Austen was fiercely proud of his son. Andrew was an honorable man, who had found the perfect balance of heart and mind to lead him through life. He had thought Andrew might someday have been lead to missionary work and now he was doing just that, safely in London as opposed to a far away country. Instead of spreading the Gospel, he was healing the bodies of the poor.

After working the slums for the past two years, Andrew saw a need for more than medicine and bandages. Improper nutrition and hygiene, lack of essential clothing and supplies were common denominators in the households he visited. Andrew knew if he could supply these items to the neediest of people, their constitution would improve greatly. He was determined to raise funds for this mission. Many wealthy connections he had, what he lacked was advice on the best way to go about asking for donations. Charity was foreign to many in his circle; most people voiced the opinion that the destitute were simply too stupid to better themselves, so why give them the means to live longer? Defeating inherited prejudice was more difficult than Andrew had expected, hence the reason he called upon a few old friends today to seek their guidance. Andrew had hoped his father, being the eloquently persuasive speaker he was, would help him in stating his plan.

Andrew could not avoid noticing his father's lack of attention this morning. He decided it would be best to explain what had his father's attention, so the others in the room would not think it was based on indifference to his cause.

"My wife's sister is arriving today, and Father is impatient for her return."

Andrew turned to his father and smiled broadly.

"How late is she, Father?" he asked in a playful tone.

Mr. Austen looked at the clock on the mantel and frowned.

"Ten minutes!" He replied as he went back to the window.

Andrew turned back to his guests. "She is ten minutes late gentlemen," he teased.

Whenever someone he cared about was late, Mr. Austen was reminded of another time, another trip that haunted him. Five years ago, on a beautiful March day, very much like this one; his beloved wife Margaret was involved in a carriage accident that claimed her life. Her death affected him greatly, and it was many years until he was himself again.

Jane entered the parlor as her husband was quizzing his father. She did not approve of him making light of the poor man's suffering, but trusted Andrew's discernment on the issue. Andrew had been dealing with his father's unease longer than she had.

"Poor Papa," she sighed as she crossed the room to join her husband.

All eyes turned to the direction of her voice. Andrew held out his arm to her, inviting her to join him. Her face lit up when she recognized one of the gentlemen; the other was unfamiliar.

She was a sight to behold as she almost floated to her husband. Admiration clearly showed on the faces of all present. When Jane was secured at his side, he turned to make the introductions.

"Mr. Bingley," Andrew announced, "may I introduce my wife, Mrs. Austen."

Mr. Bingley bowed. What an angel, I have never seen a more perfect woman.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Bingley."

"And yours, Madam."

Jane greeted the man next to him, granting him a full smile. In the past month she had grown fond of her husband's friend. He received her complete respect and admiration.

"Mr. Darcy, it is always a pleasure to see you." She said with genuine warmth. "I hope you and your sister are well."

"Quite so, thank you. Dr. Austen informs me that you are expecting company. I do not wish to invade your reunion with my presence."

"Oh no, Mr. Darcy. I would be most pleased to introduce my sister to you."

"Yes, Darcy, you and Mr. Bingley should meet her. It seems as if every time she is here, you are gone." Andrew added.

Mr. Darcy gave his hostess a small smile. "It would be my pleasure, Mrs. Austen."

A pleasure it would not be for Mr. Darcy. He had been introduced to enough "sisters" to know he should be on his guard. It seemed to him as if every man in England had a sister, a cousin, or some other dependent female relative hidden away in a closet, waiting for a man of good fortune to come to call. No, he was not in the mood to meet a future bride today. He did owe Mrs. Austen every courtesy, though, and this conviction propelled him to stay.

Mr. Darcy did, though reluctantly, have to admit a small amount of curiosity. He heard about Miss Bennet from several of his London acquaintances. She had been praised to the skies, something he found amusing. He wondered how a poor country gentleman's daughter could attract such attention. If she favored Mrs. Austen, he would accept she could be a beauty, but surely she was nothing more than a weaker version of her sister. He knew that rarely, if ever, did a family produce two exceptional daughters. In most cases, the most promising was given all of the attention, leaving the others to live in her shadow.

Desiring to expose his sister to the proper behavior of a lady, he had been fostering a relationship between Mrs. Austen and his younger sister Georgiana. Mrs. Austen graciously took Georgiana under her wing, spending several mornings a week in her company. This gave Darcy great pleasure, for Georgiana at seventeen was still painfully shy and uneasy in company. It was his aspiration to see her develop the quiet composure and confidence Mrs. Austen displayed with such ease.

He would do as Mrs. Austen wished and wait for her sister to be introduced, but he was not willing to let himself be one of the fawners who came to offer their respects. He cared not how handsome or fine she reportedly was. Mr. Darcy stood firm, there would be no Miss Bennet for him.

Mr. Bingley, on the other hand, was most anxious to meet her. From what he was told, she was a woman worthy of admiration. Mr. Bingley had been feeling lonely lately, as if he had a void that needed filling. He was not quite sure what was missing from his life, other then a proper estate, but he reasoned within himself that it might indeed be a woman. All around him were signs pointing him in that direction and lately he had been witnessing them in spades. Happy couples walking down the street, children in prams, laughter coming from established homes, the indicators were becoming clear. Even his sister Caroline had recently become engaged, and he had questioned whether she would ever find a man who could please her. Soon she would join his eldest sister in the ranks of the wed, leaving him to be the only single family member. He had visions of nights spent in the company of his bachelor friends, playing cards and talking politics. This was not an appealing thought to Mr. Bingley; his happy countenance could only stand so much boredom.

Mr. Austen came away from the window and joined the others, as the conversation continued. Mr. Darcy was alarmed at Andrew for speaking of fund-raising in front of his wife, but the Austens' marriage was a modern one in his mind. He would never behave in this fashion, but it did seem to work for Andrew.

Mr. Darcy was about to pledge his support when someone calling out in the hallway interrupted him.

"…And a lady travels all the way to London. When she arrives, does her family greet her? Nooooo! She is left to fend for herself." Elizabeth entered the room, beaming from ear to ear.

"Elizabeth!" cried Jane. "We did not hear you enter!" Jane rushed to hug her sister.

"Elizabeth! I was just about to send Andrew out on a search for you," Mr. Austen called to her, much relieved. "I did not see you arrive."

"Papa Austen, I have missed you!" Elizabeth laughed as she gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I had Smyth stop down the block so I could surprise you."

"Well, how did you find Longbourn? Was all well with your parents?" he asked.

The smile on Elizabeth's face tightened slightly. A moment of unspoken understanding passed between the two. She had confided in Mr. Austen the situation with her mother. Mrs. Bennet's treatment of her daughter grieved him deeply. He had a strong desire to protect Elizabeth from any unhappiness. He felt her family at Longbourn was a definite source of unhappiness, but he would never dissuade her from visiting them.

"All is the same, they are well and in good health," she replied, "thank you for asking."

She held up a letter she had in her hand. "I bring you a gift from the country, Sir. A message from Father!"

Papa Austen's eyes lit up, for he knew what the letter contained.

"And on what new subject shall our debate be?" he asked innocently.

Mr. Austen's correspondences with Mr. Bennet were of the lively sort. They both had a passion for a good argument, and in each other they had found a source of intelligence and discrimination that added to the pleasure of exchanging ideas and ideals. Each debate comprised of three letters from each side. Elizabeth was judge and jury when it came to choosing a winner. She thoughtfully considered each position offered and rendered a decision. The standings currently were Mr. Bennet three, Mr. Austen two.

Elizabeth leaned in to whisper to him.

"He will not tell me and has requested I do not judge this particular contest."

Mr. Austen was intrigued. He opened the letter right away and read the first few lines. The subject was a dowry. Mr. Bennet would take the con view, since he was a father to five girls. Try as he might, Mr. Austen could not help laughing out loud. This was a far cry from their last topic- the existence of multiple Gods.

"I agree with your father's assessment!" He laughed and wrapped his arms around Elizabeth to hug her. "We have missed you terribly, Elizabeth."

"And I all of you," she whispered back.

Darcy had been watching their exchange with interest. Miss Bennet and Mr. Austen were openly displaying their affection for each other and it was making him uncomfortable. Dear Lord, she is embracing Andrew now! Darcy could feel his cheeks getting hot. This country lass is rather forthright. Did she not notice there are others in the room?

Andrew offered her his arm. "Elizabeth, may I introduce you to our guests?"

"Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley, this is my sister, Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth curtsied and gave them an embarrassed smile. In her excitement, she had not noticed the visitors.

"Gentlemen, please forgive my entrance. Mr. Austen does love a surprise."

"Mr. Darcy lives three houses away from us. I have known him since I was a child." Andrew informed her.

"It is a pleasure to meet a neighbor, Mr. Darcy." She smiled pleasantly at him. "Dr. Austen has mentioned your name before, but I was beginning to believe you a phantom."

Mr. Darcy could not help but return the smile, although it showed the signs of being a confused one. He knew he needed to say something, but what?

"I have been away traveling," was all he could blurt out.

Elizabeth was now the one confused, so she turned her attention to Mr. Bingley. He struck her as a pleasant sort of man, with his curly blond hair and sparkling eyes.

Mr. Bingley gave her a large smile. He found her delightful. Expecting her to appear more like her sister, he was surprised by the opposite. One look at her and he knew that before him stood cheerful maiden, carefree and joyous.

Mr. Bingley was thankful for Dr. Austen's invitation today, even if he really had not wanted to come at first. A discussion on alleviating the suffering of the poor had not excited him, but his chance meeting with Miss Bennet made the dullness of the earlier intercourse fade away. It was not as if Mr. Bingley did not care for the underprivileged, but he would have much preferred to draw up a draft, without being subjected to all of the details.

Mr. Darcy watched as Mr. Bingley and Miss Bennet started up an animated discussion on the merits of London in the springtime. He observed how Miss Bennet spoke with her hands and the way her eyes twinkled when she said something clever.

"Miss Bennet, will you be joining us day after tomorrow?" Mr. Bingley asked with a permanent smile on his face.

Elizabeth looked perplexed. She knew of no plans being made.

Mr. Darcy spoke up, not allowing Mr. Bingley's ill-timed remark cause discomfort to the group.

"I have issued an invitation to the Austens for the theater in two days' time. It would be a pleasure if you could be a part of the party. My sister Georgiana and Mr. Bingley will also be attending."

Darcy was surprised at himself. It was a rare occurrence for him to issue an invitation; especially to someone he had just met.

"Thank you, I accept your kind invitation, Mr. Darcy. May I ask, what play will be performed?"

"Shakespeare's Othello."

The smile on Elizabeth's face dropped and for a moment she said nothing. Darcy was convinced he had inadvertently offended her. Granted, Othello was not a play for the faint of heart, but he did not see the harm in a lady attending this particular drama.

"Mr. Darcy," she said slowly, "I have longed to see Othello. It has been a favorite of mine for some time. I do believe I have read it fully five and twenty times. I am most grateful to have the opportunity to see it performed in a place other than my imagination."

Mr. Bingley, who originally dreaded the idea of spending the night at the theater, had now revised his position. If Miss Bennet were excited at the prospect, he would be, too. He made a mental note to reread the play when he returned home, although he was sure only to get past the first act.

Mr. Darcy bowed to Elizabeth's acceptance. When he looked up, Elizabeth had an inviting look on her face. He wondered if she expected him to discuss the play's dynamics with her. He had never had a deep discussion with a woman on Shakespeare's works before, and was not sure how to proceed. He decided to once again remain silent.

Elizabeth wandered around the room as the callers began to take their leave. Jane and Mr. Austen were standing by the window, pouring over Mr. Bennet's letter. An occasional laugh was heard from their quarter, but they spoke too softly for Elizabeth to understand. The other three gentlemen were stationed by the hearth, finalizing plans for a later meeting.

Elizabeth was becoming restless. She had not seen her nephew yet today, and she had missed him greatly while she was away. She approached Andrew and waited for an opening to speak.

"Andrew, would it be considered terribly impolite for me to excuse myself? I have not yet visited Evan and fear he may forget me if I wait any longer."

"Not in the least, Elizabeth. You will find him in the nursery."

Elizabeth curtsied and left the room.

The gentlemen took their leave a short time later. As they were exiting the room, Darcy heard the Austen's young son let out a squeal. He looked in the direction of the nursery and saw a most interesting sight.

Evan Austen had obviously escaped his confinement, running down the hall as fast as his legs would take him. From behind him came Miss Bennet, scooping him up. She then twirled around in circles, holding the lad at arm length and laughing just as arduously as the boy. It was a scene of pure unadulterated joy and playfulness. Darcy experienced a flood of memories awakened in him, when he had been privy to an exhibition similar to this one. It was one if his fondest memories of his mother.

Mr. Darcy hastened to leave the house.

Outside Mr. Bingley waited for him. Right away he started expressing his assessment of Miss Bennet.

"Darcy, have you ever met a more lively lady in your life? Her spirit positively amazed me. Why did you not inform me of her existence?"

"I have never been introduced to her until today," he bluntly stated, wanting the subject to be dropped.

Mr. Darcy was not on the mood to listen to his friend at the moment. He was much more concerned with his own thoughts. Long ago he learned not to take Bingley's infatuations too seriously because his friend was a man prone to fall in and out of love quickly.

The differences in their temperament never interfered in the loyal friendship they formed, and they had been friends for longer then Darcy could remember.

Mr. Bingley continued to rattle on and Mr. Darcy only half-listened.

"…And the prettiest blue eyes I have seen!" Mr. Bingley gushed.

"They are brown," Mr. Darcy said under his breath.

"What, Darcy? I did not hear you."

"Nothing, Bingley, we have arrived. Shall we go inside?"

Part 3

Posted on Thursday, 22-Oct-98

That afternoon, Elizabeth confided in Jane and Mr. Austen the details of her visit home. Her father and sisters had warmly welcomed her, yet her mother still maintained her resentment. Mrs. Bennet continually made references to Mr. Dobbs and his offer of marriage. Elizabeth counter-attacked by telling her mother in no uncertain terms that she would never marry a man whom she did not love. This escaped Mrs. Bennet's ability to reason. She did not understand how any woman could turn down a man of such great fortune and connections, especially a woman like Elizabeth, who had little to offer the union! The trip ended in a stalemate.

During most of Elizabeth's visit, Mr. Bennet remained secluded in his library. Once he did come to Elizabeth's defense, but for the most part, he stayed out of the way of mother and daughter. Elizabeth was disturbed by her father's lack of assistance. He had agreed with her a year ago when she refused Mr. Dobbs, but he would not silence his wife on the subject.

Elizabeth found her sisters to be in the same condition as she left them the last time she was at home. Each was pursuing their interests, without discipline or management. Mary was becoming more distant from the world, while Kitty and Lydia were becoming more a part of it. She had genuine concern over the fate of her younger sisters, but not enough to stay at Longborn with them. The girls had grown so independent in thought; no longer would they accept her advice or guidance.

After a lengthy discussion on possible options they could offer the younger Bennet girls, it was decided individual invitations to Austen House would be extended to each. Mary would be first since she was the eldest. Elizabeth held high hopes that with the effort of Jane, Andrew, and Papa Austen, progress could be made.

Mr. Austen was the first to mention the subject of the morning's visitors.

"Elizabeth, give me your first impressions of Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley."

"Well, Mr. Bingley appears to be a happy man, quite pleasant. He speaks with an expression that indicates a demeanor of ease and comfort. If I were to make a wager, I would say he was not an avid reader or participant in things unpleasant. Am I close, Papa Austen?"

"I do not know dear, today was my first meeting with him," he chuckled, "Now tell me of Mr. Darcy."

Elizabeth thought for a moment.

"I do not know about Mr. Darcy. At first I thought him haughty, but when he issued me the invitation to the theater, it was if he were nervous and shy. What is his wife like?"

"He has no wife. Why would you think he had a wife?" he asked.

"An assumption on my part. Generally speaking, a man in his position and age must have a wife to complete the picture."

"No, no wife. There is only a sister, he lost his parents many years ago."

"Oh," she replied softly.

Elizabeth was ready to move to another topic, but Mr. Austen could see a change in her facial expression when he mentioned Darcy's lack of a spouse. He was very interested in her initial reaction to the man. Fitzwilliam Darcy had long held a soft spot in the older man's heart. He had watched him grow up from a content lad to a serious young man. Darcy's care for his younger sister had been exemplary since his parent's death. He was forced to grow up quickly, and succeeded in running his inherited estates with the same pride and care as his father had. Mr. Austen had waited for an opportunity for Darcy to meet Elizabeth.

His intuition told him that they may be well suited for one another, but he would go no further than to introduce them. Fate, luck, or whatever other element that existed would have to tend them past the introduction, for Mr. Austen was no Cupid.

"I believe," he began again, choosing his words carefully, "that you will find Mr. Darcy to be a reserved gentleman. Once I heard a woman call him proud and uncivil, but I have never seen him behave in any manner but of the highest standard. We must remember he is a single man of large fortune. There are many women in the world who would enjoy sharing his wealth and connections, but he has the wisdom to protect himself."

"Why was he here today?" she asked.

"Andrew was looking for suggestions on his fund-raiser."

"Mr. Darcy is going to assist Andrew?" Elizabeth had not expected Mr. Darcy to be interested in Andrew's charity work. He did not appear to be a liberal man.

"Yes, he has pledged his support to the cause." Mr. Austen allowed the topic to be dropped; sensing Elizabeth had many preconceived impressions to rearrange.

Elizabeth pondered Mr. Austen's words throughout the day. Mr. Darcy certainly was a handsome man, but she would not allow herself to dwell for long. She reckoned any man possessing the qualities of a Mr. Darcy would have no need to turn to a country girl like herself.

The next morning dawned bright and beautiful. As was her habit, Elizabeth rose before the rest of the family and was dressed by eight. She enjoyed stealing away to the park across the avenue every morning she was able. There was a certain bench, nestled in the trees, which granted her the feeling of being in the country. She would spend an hour in quiet meditation, listening to the birds or reading. Treasured were the days she could wake up knowing the park awaited her.

As Elizabeth neared her bench, she noticed it occupied by a gentleman. Agitated, she turned away. She had never encountered anyone this early in the park before and was vexed at the invasion this man represented. She stormed through the park; muttering insults aimed at the unknown intruder under her breath. A reasonable woman would of taken another seat and made the most of the situation, but Elizabeth would not. She did not desire being out in the open, watching carriages pass by or deliveries being made. To her, only complete seclusion would allow her the illusion of country privacy. She vowed to wake earlier tomorrow to claim her seat, a precaution against losing her morning ritual again. Elizabeth crossed the road and returned home in the foulest of moods.

Mr. Darcy laid his book of sonnets down on the bench. His train of thought had been interrupted when he heard a noise behind him. Seeing nothing, he concluded it must have been an animal. He picked up his book and continued to read.

This day brought a different Darcy visitor to Austen House. Miss Georgiana Darcy came to call along with her companion, Mrs. Annesley.

Elizabeth's first reaction to Miss Darcy was one of surprise. Her resemblance to Jane was uncanny; she could have easily been mistaken for Jane's sister. This caused Elizabeth to be instantly captivated by her. She observed that, although obviously shy, Miss Darcy had an aura of agreeableness about her. Following her intuition, she slowly engaged the young woman in conversation. Jane had informed Elizabeth of Miss Darcy's love of music, so she directed the flow of dialogue in that direction. By the end of the visit, Miss Darcy was at ease enough to issue an invitation to the sisters for the next morning. Jane had to refuse; she had already made plans to visit a new acquaintance with Andrew, but Elizabeth accepted happily.

Upon her arrival home, Georgiana stopped by her brother's study to inform him of her return.

"William, I am home," she said quietly from the doorway.

He looked up from his ledger and motioned her to come in. The smile on Georgiana's face told him of the success of her meeting with Miss Bennet and he could not help but be relieved. Miss Bennet was an interesting creature, but he had been concerned that Georgiana might have found her overpowering.

"Was it a pleasant call?" he asked.

"Yes, very pleasant. I have taken the liberty of inviting Miss Bennet to come to call tomorrow. I hope this meets with your approval."

Suddenly Georgiana was nervous about her bold move. She had not asked permission to bring someone her brother may consider a stranger into the house. She did like Miss Bennet and wanted to further the acquaintance, but she felt she should have asked first. Georgiana lowered her eyes to the floor, fearing the worst. Her brother was not an angry man, but she loathed the idea of him being disappointed in her.

Darcy, sensing his sister's uneasiness, rose and walked over to her. Taking her hands into his own, he smiled at her.

"Georgiana, it is wonderful you extended an invitation. This is your house, too, and I had hoped you would start taking the initiative and invite people of your choice to come. Miss Bennet appears to be a lady of good breeding. I approve very much. Now tell me, is this to be a social call or do you have other plans?"

Georgiana, accepting his reassurances told him of her plans for the morrow.

"We are to adjourn in the music room. Miss Bennet expressed a desire to hear me play, and I would like to hear her again."

"Does Miss Bennet play? I assumed since Mrs. Austen did not, she would not either." Darcy's interest was heightened. Miss Bennet did not appear to be of the temperament to spend endless hours practicing.

"Oh, it is lovely, she may not possess the technical ability of some, but she plays wonderfully. I have rarely heard anyone put such feeling into a piece of music. You may enjoy listening for yourself."

Darcy removed his hands from hers and went back to his seat. He had no plans to sit and admire Miss Bennet, no matter how high his sister's recommendation.

"Georgiana, I would like to, but," he pointed to the papers on his desk, "I am quite swamped right now. I do not believe I will have the time tomorrow."

"I understand, Brother. Do not let me keep you any longer. If you need me, I will be in the music room." She curtsied and turned to leave.

Darcy felt guilty at his abrupt dismissal of her offer. In actuality, he was almost finished with his business dealings for the month and could easily spare the time to listen to an impromptu concert.

"Do not forget about the play tomorrow night, I believe your Miss Bennet will be joining us," he called after her.

Georgiana grinned and assured him she did not.

Part 4

Posted on Sunday, 25-Oct-98

The next morning Elizabeth scowled at the rain outside her window. Her morning rite had been canceled again. Although she would have to stay indoors, the day still held many promises. She prepared herself for her visit with Miss Darcy, taking more care than usual with her appearance, although she was not conscious of her actions.

After a short discussion over breakfast on the merits of bridge tolls with Mr. Austen, she was off.

Elizabeth arrived at the Darcy house in high spirits. Georgiana was truly pleased to see her and led her directly to the music room.

Darcy had chosen to stay out of sight in his study. Bingley was expected in an hour's time, and the two were to go over his accounts together. Darcy had little patience when it came to Bingley's record keeping, but he was convinced with enough encouragement, Bingley would take his advice and maintain better accounts of his expenses.

However, Darcy did keep the door to his study slight ajar, enabling him to hear any melody that might be played.

The ladies scoured Georgiana's selections, looking for some of their favorites. It took quite some time to go through half of the sheet music, but they each found two suitable choices.

At Georgiana's insistence, Elizabeth played first.

Elizabeth positioned herself on the bench and readied her music. She had chosen Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata, a favored piece she had played many times in the past. She began by putting forth a concentrated effort to follow the notes on the sheet, but soon allowed herself the freedom of playing the music by memory. Georgiana watched as Elizabeth closed her eyes and began to move to the rhythm of her playing.

Darcy had been listening. An experienced ear told him that it was not his sister at the pianoforte. At first it sounded as if average musician could be performing; then he heard the change.

As if it was being played differently, the music came alive. The inner struggle produced by the effect was enormous. He was drawn to rise from his chair, although he consciously did not want to. It was as if the notes resonating in his head had a will of their own, beckoning him to move closer to their origin. Slowly he pulled the door open to allow the composition to enter, but this action did not satisfy his need. He left his study and proceeded toward the music room, ignoring everything but the sound of the pianoforte.

Mr. Bingley had just arrived and looked at his friend curiously. Unable to get Darcy's attention, he decided to follow him and see where he was headed.

Darcy hastened his steps, no longer fighting the hold on his being. He could physically feel the emotion in the individual notes, giving them brief existence until they evaporated into the air. His heart was heavy as he stopped in the doorway, taking in view of the room.

The vision before him was almost surreal. The windows had been opened and a breeze allowed the white sheers to dance and flutter in harmony with the song, behaving under the control of the music. A beam of light reflected from the outside fell upon the pianoforte, causing it to glow serenely.

Georgiana had noticed his entrance and greeted him without words. A small smile rested on her face. She knew she was bearing witness to an uncommon delivery, and was happy to see her brother sharing it with her.

His gaze next traveled to the creator of the spell, and his eyes could not be drawn away. Her thoughts he could not read as she performed. She leaned back and forth with the fingering of the song, lightly biting her bottom lip when the music intensified and frowning when the lower notes were hit. He watched her play without ceremony or conceit, but wholesomely, oblivious of her growing audience. His breathing changed to match the rhythm of her playing and when the short piece ended, she mercifully started it again, allowing him six more minutes of bliss.

Darcy knew at that moment he could have been lead to the gates of Hell and would have willingly entered if the serenade was as sweet as this one. He rooted himself in the doorway; fear of breaking the enchantment kept him from entering any farther.

Elizabeth was lost in the music.

As she poured her soul into playing the sonata, the pain and disappointment from her journey home began to rise to the surface. For Elizabeth, Longbourn was forever lost now. Her childhood home and the memories of its gardens, paths, rooms and inhabitants no longer held the same fondness as they once had. As each person remaining within the walls of that tired estate became clear to Elizabeth, she realized the situation of remaining there no longer represented itself as appealing. Her exposure of the outside world had opened her to the faults she and her family possessed.

Perfection was not a trait expected in others by Elizabeth, but compassion was. As a child, her father was the center of her domain, now her eyes were open to his selfishness and inability to concern himself with the matters of his children.

Her parents' relationship was one not to be envied. Perhaps having five daughters born in succession aided in the downfall of an already unstable union.

Even if she could overlook the complete lack of structure and contentment evident every day that she spent there, she could not do without the affection. Her mother had allowed her own bitterness associated with her position in life to be reflected toward her daughter. Mrs. Bennet saw in Elizabeth the person she had always wanted to be and was resentful. Fanny Bennet chose to live her life in denial of her own follies and instead focused on what she considered her second eldest daughter's imperfections. Only the most ignorant could not notice the constant barrages of slights and slander directed at Elizabeth from her mother's corner. Unable to endure the rejection, she fled Longbourn to distance herself from her family.

Above all else, Elizabeth wanted to be a fair person. She would not allow her own defects escape notice and worked hard to correct the characteristics she did not wish to own. She was quite aware of her propensity to judge quickly and knew this often lead to hasty decisions being acted upon.

Through the example set by her brother-in-law and Mr. Austen, she was coming to terms with her ability to accept people as they were, without her ever-present desire to highlight their faults. She had made great strides in this area before her latest venture home, but was resolved to fix this misstep and learn from the experience.

As the sonata came to an end, Elizabeth slowly opened her eyes. Two drops fell on her cheeks, and she brushed them aside quickly.

"Miss Darcy, the tone of this instrument is profound. I have never heard one so well tuned," she whispered to her companion as she ran her hand over the top of the pianoforte. "It is amazing."

"No," interjected Georgiana, "it is your playing that is profound. 'Moonlight Sonata' has never been performed more exquisitely."

Elizabeth smiled at her, knowing she must have noticed the numerous missed notes.

"Bravo, Miss Bennet!" Mr. Bingley stated as he walked to the pianoforte. "That was just lovely."

As he came near her, Elizabeth looked up. She saw Mr. Darcy stationed at the door, looking at her intently. He wore no expression on his face.

"Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy," she replied, more to Mr. Bingley then the other, "I hope my playing did not disturb you." If Elizabeth was surprised by their presence, she did not let it show.

"Not at all, Miss Bennet." Mr. Bingley smiled at her. "Correct, Darcy?"

Elizabeth lowered her gaze to her hands, not wanting to see Darcy's reaction.

Had she been looking at the man, she would have understood the depth of his response.

"Quite moving, Miss Bennet."

Part 5

Posted on Friday, 30-Oct-98

Author's Note: Thank you Kathi!

The knot in Elizabeth's stomach tightened as the carriage stopped in front of the theater. She had been uncharacteristically quiet since the afternoon, spending most of the day alone in her room.

Mr. Austen noticed Elizabeth's absence around the house and attributed it to the letter she had received from her Aunt Gardiner. He was well aware Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were going to issue an invitation to Elizabeth. In three months time, they were to travel to America for an extended stay. Mr. Gardiner was a respectable man of trade, whose import business had grown into a very profitable venture. The proposed trip was to be an opportunity for Mr. Gardiner to make connections, and possibly expand his enterprise.

Mr. Austen knew the potential such a trip could offer but had his doubts it was entirely safe. Over the years, he had read several accounts of the brutality and massacres often faced by the citizens of the United States. Although Mr. Gardiner had assured him that they were only going to tour the larger cities with the aid of Mr. Gardiner's cousin, Mr. James, he still had his doubts. He viewed the country as volatile, not the type of place he would send a family member.

Elizabeth had indeed received an invitation in the letter, but she dismissed it right away. Even if her father would give permission for the trip, she was not interested. As much as she loved her Aunt and Uncle, she could not bear the thought of being away from home for eight months. Her life was in England and here she would stay. The letter had not upset her. She had something else on her mind.

Elizabeth was ashamed of her actions at the Darcy house this morning. No matter the pleasure it had given at the time, she felt her performance at the pianoforte showed an unforgivable lack of decency. Georgiana had been very kind in expressing her enjoyment, but Elizabeth wondered how much of her praise was only politeness. Mr. Darcy seemed offended; he left the room directly after stating her performance was "quite moving".

Elizabeth was certain Mr. Darcy would bar his sister from her company in the future. In fact, she was surprised he had not canceled their outing tonight. She could not have blamed him if he did, for whom would want their younger sister exposed to such a woman? A woman who had no regard for propriety.

Darcy watched as the Austens entered the building. Mr. Austen had Elizabeth on his arm, talking to her in a hushed tone. Her eyes were downcast and she appeared pale. He hoped she wasn't feeling ill, especially after she expressed a desire to see "Othello."

Darcy cordially greeted his guests. He was determined to show Miss Bennet every courtesy, since he viewed his behavior to her that morning as rude. If Bingley had not prompted him, he would have been able to compose a proper compliment to her. As it was, the only words that came to his mind were "quite moving". Embarrassed, he exited the room to avoid himself of the pain of appearing a simpleton.

If he could do the incident over, Darcy would have been able to relay his appreciation in more elegant terms. He would have asked her how long she had been playing Beethoven, or where her musical training had taken place.

As the party gathered together, Darcy announced that two more people were to join them tonight. Mr. Bingley's sister Caroline and Darcy's cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, were waiting with Georgiana in the box. Darcy could have done without the presence of Miss Bingley -- he thought of her as a haughty woman whose cruel humor rarely entertained anyone -- but his cousin was a welcome addition.

Mr. Austen watched Elizabeth as she made her way to the box. He decided to have a word with her before the play began.

"Darcy, if you will give Miss Bennet and me a moment, we will join you shortly."

When the others left, Mr. Austen tuned to Elizabeth.

"Elizabeth, you do not seem yourself tonight. Is there anything you wish to discuss before we take our seats?"

"No, I am fine. I am only preoccupied."

"Your aunt's letter, is this what troubles you?"

"No," she answered surprised. "Do you know of the contents?"

"They stopped by last week and informed me of their intentions."

"Oh, well, I am not considering their offer at the moment." She hesitated, thinking of the incident. "I did something today that I wish I could change."

Mr. Austen looked at her compassionately. He knew Elizabeth well enough to know she often let the littlest details bother her.

"Would you like to tell me, so you can concentrate on the play?"

She thought for a moment. Yes, she would like to tell him. With Papa Austen, she could share anything.

"Today, I made a fool of myself at the Darcys'. I was playing 'Moonlight Sonata'," she paused, not wanting to share everything. "My behavior performing at the pianoforte disturbs me."

"Dear Elizabeth, are you certain it was as bad as you believe?"

"Most certain! Mr. Darcy must think very ill of me. Now is not the time for me to relay all of the details. I assure you, my conduct was less then ladylike."

"Elizabeth, I have known Mr. Darcy for a long time. He does not go about looking for the bad in people. He is a good man. Is it possible you misread him? Did he say he was displeased with you?"

"No, he did not verbally say he was displeased, but his actions did."

"Do not be too quick to judge, Elizabeth. Sometimes it is hard for us to understand the actions of people we do not know well."

Mr. Darcy, who could hear the conversation taking place in the hall, stiffened in his chair. Miss Bennet was feeling remorse over her exceptional performance earlier? He could not believe it. There could be no justification for him to allow her unease to continue much longer. When the appropriate time presented itself, he would clear her conscience by expressing his appreciation for her performance. Until then, he would have to remain mute; otherwise he would appear to the great disadvantage of being an invader of private conversations.

When Mr. Austen and Elizabeth entered the box a short time later, the introductions to Miss Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam were made, and they settled into their seats.

The orchestra began to play and Elizabeth's wish came true; she was watching Othello.

Refreshments were laid out on a long mahogany table, waiting for the guests at the Darcy home. Very little was said in each of the three carriages as they traveled from the theater; the conversation was being saved for later.

After the food was consumed, the discussion turned lively -- although some of the participants were better informed than others. Jane and Mr. Bingley made a few contributions. Miss Bingley said nothing but sat with her arms crossed, obviously bored.

Elizabeth listened contentedly as Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Austen debated over Cassio's theoretical knowledge verses Iago's battlefield experience. Being a military man, the Colonel faithfully stood by the evil Iago, but only because of his veteran status. The Colonel had met with too many officers who had the education but lacked the experience to lead.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam, I do admit that you have a better understanding of how the military works, but do tell me, how did you come about knowledge in tactics and maneuvers?" Mr. Austen asked, showing signs of confidence.

"Sir, I was trained." Colonel Fitzwilliam sensed a trap, and offered no additional information.

"How were you trained, if I may ask?"

The Colonel smiled; he knew if he answered this question, he would have to admit to Mr. Austen's point that first he obtained knowledge from books, then gained field experience.

Both men broke out in laughter and the topic was changed.

Mr. Austen looked to Elizabeth. He had noticed she was not participating, which was a rare occurrence for her.

"Elizabeth, we have not yet heard your views on the play. Do tell us, what impression did you walk away with, after all was said and done?"

"After all was said and done, I believe Othello's downfall was due in large part to his vanity."

All of the attention in the room went to Elizabeth. She had made a rather bold statement that deserved to be explained.

Mr. Darcy was the first to react. He was interested to find out how Miss Bennet would support her statement, since he shared the same belief.

"Pray, continue Miss Bennet. How was Othello's vanity the cause of his demise?" he asked as he sat in a chair near her.

"I do not really see Othello as a great General. He may have been a great warrior, and he may have won battles, but as the Head of the Army of Venice, he should have been keener to the men he surrounded himself with. For instance, by the second scene in the first act, it was obvious Cassio was a flatterer. He soothed Othello's vanity with pretty words and was promoted for it, even though he constantly proved himself to be less then worthy."

Elizabeth continued, "I can understand Othello's inability to see Iago for the vile man he was; he hid it very well. But, when he decided to believe Iago over his wife, he showed how far he was willing to go for his vanity. The thought of Desdomona being unfaithful bruised his ego, and it took precedence over his reasoning. He did not take the time to determine whether Iago's report was true. Oh yes, he did send Iago to investigate, but really, I think he should have sent another. Othello did not consider that Iago would perhaps be bitter over not being promoted."

Mr. Darcy leaned in toward Elizabeth, getting caught up in the conversation with her.

"I agree, Miss Bennet. Othello allowed his wounded pride to blind him. He acted hastily and without reservation, taking the circumstances from one man as his own. This shows poor judgement, but when all of the facts are presented, do you really believe Othello should have paid for his vanity with his life?"

"Mr. Darcy, his vanity had already cost the lives or careers of so many. No, I do not think a man should die for vanity. I do question if a General can permit himself the luxury of exercising his weaknesses; it is on that I base my question of his greatness. Maybe this is a question for the Colonel, do you not agree?"

"I do agree, Miss Bennet. We should have the opinion of someone with experience."

They both turned, and in unison called out, "Colonel Fitzwilliam."

This brought a chuckle from Elizabeth and a smile from Mr. Darcy.

Miss Bingley, a vain woman at heart, had tired of the conversation long ago. She was very vexed with Mr. Darcy for giving so much attention to Miss Bennet, a woman she had never heard of until tonight. There was a time when she had tried to be the object of Mr. Darcy's attention, only to realize that (after two years of determined effort) he did not have any interest in her.

Miss Bingley heard a pause and made her move. "Miss Bennet, my brother tells me you have just arrived from your parent's estate in the country. Tell me, do you get to town often?"

Elizabeth looked at Miss Bingley. She was not happy being interrupted, but gave Miss Bingley the benefit of the doubt, and assumed she was not intentionally being insulting.

"Yes, I am in town quite often."

"It must be nice for you. London offers so many of the refinements the countryside cannot."

Elizabeth was now sure; Miss Bingley was rude.

"Yes, I suppose that is true, but there is something to be said for the peace and tranquility of the country."

"Well, I know I could never live without life's little pleasures. The balls, the shops, the opera, and theater. Not to mention the society. I cannot imagine a more wonderful place than town. I assume it is whatever one is accustomed to."

Mr. Darcy shifted in his seat. He was never able to enjoy being in the same room with Bingley's sister for long. Now, she was insulting Miss Bennet, in a roundabout way as only Caroline could. He glanced at Miss Bennet and could see she was not at all pleased with the situation. He then took matters into his own hands.

"Miss Bennet, would you do us the great honor of hearing you play again?"

Elizabeth expressed her gratitude to Mr. Darcy with the warmest of smiles. She now knew why Mr. Austen thought so highly of him—he was a good man.

Part 5

Posted on Saturday, 14-Nov-98

"Interesting evening, Darcy. I have not had the pleasure of the Austens' company for a long time. Tell me, what do you know about Miss Bennet?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked his cousin after all of the guests had left.

"I do not have any information to share. I met her three days ago."

Mr. Darcy walked over to the table to pour himself a drink. He hoped the topic would be dropped. He was not prepared to discuss Miss Bennet at this time.

Colonel Fitzwilliam was not satisfied with the answer he received. He had observed his cousin's attentiveness to Miss Bennet throughout the night. He was aware, as only a long-time acquaintance could be; that Darcy had possibly met a woman he could care for. If the truth were stated, he had never seen Darcy give much consequence to any woman before tonight. He charged ahead with a barrage of questions, determined to discover his cousin's thoughts on this interesting young woman.

"I say, she and Georgiana seem to be on friendly terms." The Colonel stated.

"I believe so."

"And she does play nicely, would you not agree?"

"Yes, she is very talented."

"Her father is a Gentleman, am I correct?"

"Yes, from Hertfordshire."

"She seems intelligent and clever, I would have to say she obviously reads a great deal."

Darcy did not answer, but gave his cousin a cross look. The Colonel ignored him and continued on with his questioning.

"Very pretty, too"

Mr. Darcy's patience gave way. He was well aware Colonel Fitzwilliam was attempting to extract information from him. He was not in the mood to follow through with his game, so he would have to end it now.

"Enough, enough! If you have a point to make, please do."

"Really, Darcy, I can not believe you." Colonel Fitzwilliam could hardly contain his laughter. Even as an adult, he still enjoyed teasing his cousin from time to time. "Of course I have a point."

"What would it be?" Mr. Darcy asked in a harsh tone.

"Only that Miss Bennet is a pretty, talented, intelligent gentleman's daughter," he waited for Darcy's facial muscles to relax before adding, "and you had better determine your feelings for her before Mr. Bingley snatches her up."

Mr. Darcy, who had the misfortune of taking a sip of port right before Colonel Fitzwilliam finished his statement, choked.

"That is presumptuous." He bellowed as soon as he caught his breath.

"Maybe so. I am sure Lady Catherine would be most put-out if she were to hear what I am going to say next, but if you let Miss Bennet slip through your fingers, you are a damn fool!"

Elizabeth was elated, the morning was beautiful, the birds' were singing, and her bench in the park was empty. She had left the house forty minutes early to insure she would be able to sit there.

She brought with her a copy of "Othello", and the intention of rereading a few passages. As she stared at the cover of the book, her mind wandered, and she found herself thinking of last night's party instead of the book.

She heard Georgiana (they both agreed to call each other by their Christian names) laugh for the first time last night. They were playing a duet together, their hands crossed and the song was ruined. At first, they both sat there blushing, but Elizabeth could hold in her laughter no longer and started to giggle. Soon, she and Georgiana were in stitches and vowed never to perform together again without practicing beforehand.

Miss Bingley had accosted Elizabeth after the song, but Elizabeth quickly changed the subject to Miss Bingley's engagement ring, and for the rest of the night Miss Bingley behaved herself nicely.

Colonel Fitzwilliam was a pleasing man to talk and listen to, and Elizabeth found him to be very agreeable in attitude. He entertained the group with a funny story about a young Lieutenant in his division, and later sang a song while Miss Darcy played. If Elizabeth's mind had not been otherwise engaged, she might have been able to say she found him attractive, but another man in the room had her attention--Mr. Darcy.

Elizabeth was cautious in allowing herself to daydream about Mr. Darcy too much. She could not pinpoint exactly what it was about him that interested her so, but something pulled at her feelings when he was around.

Mr. Darcy was certainly handsome, with his dark wavy hair and deep brown eyes. He was a tall man, who appeared to be fit and healthy, and he carried himself well, but these were only physical attributes. What she found most appealing was his quiet, shy nature. He thought before he spoke, and on a few occasions she watched him as he struggled to find suitable words. Yet, his words carried weight, as they were from an intelligent, well-adjusted mind.

Elizabeth studied Mr. Darcy when Miss Bingley was around him. She watched his personality change and become cold--almost as if it was taking all of his strength to be civil without the appearance of rudeness. She, too, had her way of dealing with people like Miss Bingley, and although it was different from Mr. Darcy's, she recognized the need for protective reactions.

Elizabeth recalled the kind looks he had given her last night. When she caught him staring at her, he would not avert his eyes, but held his gaze. She found his attention both bold and charming, and maybe a little unnerving.

Elizabeth did believe in love at first sight. Jane and Andrew's romance began that way, and it was an experience shared by both. She wondered if it could have happened to her. Elizabeth decided that for the time, she would only admit she liked him—very much.

She thought her chances of gaining his affection were slim. His family must surely have high expectations for him, and from any union he might someday form. She doubted Mr. Darcy would squander his time and attention on a woman who had no wealth and little connections, and she would not allow herself to become a passing fancy for any man. Elizabeth concluded that she would not show her heart to anyone, but treat him like any other man, whose company she did enjoy.

Elizabeth sat up straight when she heard a noise behind her. Believing the sound to be footsteps, she pretended to be reading. A sly smile crossed her lips as she plotted her next move.

Mr. Darcy made his way through the park, with a newspaper tucked under his arm. Being preoccupied with thoughts of his conversation with Colonel Fitzwilliam last night, he did not notice Elizabeth sitting in his spot until he was upon her.

"Miss Bennet!"

"Mr. Darcy!" Elizabeth was shocked. She had not expected the bench intruder to be Mr. Darcy. "Sir, I had not expected you."

"Were you waiting for someone, Miss Bennet?"

"No, I only," she stuttered, not wanting to expose her juvenile plan to him, "do you come here often in the morning?"

Mr. Darcy eyed his bench possessively. "Yes, I do. Do you?"

"Yes, every day when the weather permits. It is so peaceful here, surrounded by the trees."

"Oh, I see." Mr. Darcy was gentleman enough to know it was his place to relinquish any claim he had on the bench, and allow her the pleasure of ownership.

"Well, good day, Miss Bennet." He bowed and turned to leave.

Victory was not as sweet as Elizabeth imagined it to be. Had it been any other man, she would have savored her success, but the look on Mr. Darcy's face tainted her win. She thought quickly, searching for a possible concession she could make to smooth over his loss.

"Mr. Darcy, I may have an idea." Elizabeth called to him in a friendly voice. As she hoped, Mr. Darcy turned around and walked back to her.

"I propose a compromise, Sir." She was very proud of her idea; it was sound and fair in her mind.

"Please share, Miss Bennet." Mr. Darcy was not a man accustomed to compromises, but his interest was genuine. He had no clue as to what she would suggest.

"I believe I would be stating a fact if I said that we both enjoy our morning outing in the park, am I correct?"

"Yes, I will admit to my part," he replied hesitantly. It was not his intention to have Elizabeth feel guilty for her morning pleasure. After all, he was the person who had been absent from London lately. He knew he could not expect everything to remain the same, as it was the last time he was in town.

"Since we cannot both occupy this area at once, what if we were to split the week between us?"

"How do you propose to do this?"

"Each has our own days when we can have the park to ourselves. I could take Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. You could have Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. Would you consider this a suitable arrangement?"

"I would indeed." He was beginning to enjoy her little scheme. Her eyes were wide and bright as she spoke, and he found himself utterly charmed. "What about Sunday?"

Elizabeth pondered Sunday. "I do not come here often on Sunday, since church is so early. Why not make Sunday an open day when whoever arrives first, gets the bench?" She was feeling quite satisfied about her answer.

A small smile crossed his face as he realized she had not completely given him Sunday, but left the day free on the chance she may be able to make the time to sit in the park. She is a clever woman. Mr. Darcy ran over the details of her suggestion in his mind.

"Fair! But, you have not yet covered afternoons. Do the same rules apply to them?"

Elizabeth let out a laugh. "I should say not. Our agreement will only be for the mornings. I enjoy bringing Evan here in the afternoons. Do you visit the park in the afternoon?"

"No, I am often occupied during that time."

"Can you think of anything I have forgotten?" She asked.

"Yes, I will assume that if rain falls on the morning of our day, we forfeit to Mother Nature."

"Excellent point, Mr. Darcy. You have saved us any future dispute due to the weather."

"Then I will consider the matter settled." They both nodded in agreement.

For a moment they just looked at each other, both happy with the way the situation worked out.

"Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth asked with a mischievous look about her.

"Yes?" He asked, wondering what idea she might have that would cause her to smile so delightfully.

"It is Wednesday."

"That it is, Miss Bennet, " he chuckled while shaking his head. "May I again bid you a good day."

Mr. Darcy left the park, without reading his newspaper, or enjoying his morning quietude, and without possession of his bench. Yet, he was a happy man.

The next two weeks passed quickly. An announcement from Jane and Andrew brought the best of news to the Austen home. Another child was on the way. Elizabeth could not be happier for her beloved sister, and expressed her joy at every opportunity.

Callers were frequent during this time. The Austens' were to throw Andrew a 30th-birthday party, and the invite list was quite long.

Mr. Darcy was indeed helping Andrew with his charity. He had devised a plan to call upon many of his acquaintances and present them with a well-documented fact sheet, detailing how and why the contributions would be spent. Mr. Darcy realized that the poor people of London were the current and future workforces. If they were not properly tended, then the economy could suffer, due to sickly, dissatisfied workers.

Every visitation between Georgiana and Elizabeth brought them closer together. Georgiana had longed to have someone near her own age to confide in. Her companion, Mrs. Annsby, was more of an authority figure then a friend, which was logical since she was twenty years her senior. Mrs. Ansby was also going to be gone for the next month; spending time with her sister in Bath.

With every passing day, Elizabeth's blue mood she had brought back from Longbourn was fading, and she was behaving more like her old self. She was very happy with her blooming friendship with Georgiana, and spent many pleasurable hours in her company. They were often found roaming the park in the afternoon, or shopping together.

Georgiana invited Elizabeth over when her painting instructor came to the house. The end result was quite comical, since Elizabeth had never picked up a paintbrush before. When Mr. Darcy came into the room to inspect the ladies creations, Elizabeth sent him a good-natured warning look. She knew her painting lacked…well, even she could not identify what she had painted.

"Miss Bennet, what an interesting use of color." He cautiously chose his words while hiding his confusion.

"Mr. Darcy, what would you say it most looks like?" Elizabeth was determined to see if she could 'catch' him, and have him confess he did not know.

He looked about the room, searching for a clue as to what had been the model. As he leaned over to catch a glance at his sister's painting, Elizabeth stopped him.

"Without peeking!"

Mr. Darcy looked again at her art. He truly had no idea what was on the canvas, but Mr. Darcy was not an excellent business negotiator for nothing.

"Why, Miss Bennet, I shall refrain from limiting your painting by placing a restriction on it, such as a definition. It would not be right."

Elizabeth burst out laughing at this. "You are a gentleman and a diplomat, Sir! An excellent choice of words."

The exchanges between Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth had become comfortable and frequent. Not only did they both enjoy each other's society, but sought it out. With few exceptions, everyone in their close circle noticed their budding attachment. Dinner invitations between the Darcy and Austen homes were common. Elizabeth had not confessed her desire to Jane or Mr. Austen, but they understood and supported her in every way they could.

Elizabeth had found in Mr. Darcy a brilliant, intense, caring man who she could hold in the highest esteem. On the rare days when she did not see him, she felt empty and lonely. She knew she loved him with all of her heart, and believed he returned the sentiment.

He did.

For the first time in his life, Mr. Darcy was in love.

Part 6

Posted on Tuesday, 17-Nov-98

Three days before Andrew's birthday, Georgiana and Elizabeth made plans to take Evan to the park. Georgiana had the habit of always being on time. When she had not arrived at the appointed hour, Elizabeth decided to take Evan and meet her at her house.

The butler led her to the study, as he was told to do by Mr. Darcy. Once there, she found him looking out the window at the street below. He dismissed the man with a wave of his hand, but did not turn around to greet her.

Sensing something amiss, Elizabeth walked over to stand next to him.

"Mr. Darcy?" She asked quietly.

He turned to face her, looking pale and obviously deeply disturbed. The expression of shock on Elizabeth's face prompted him to address her.

"Miss Bennet, I am afraid Georgiana will be unable to join you this afternoon. She is unwell." Mr. Darcy said in a low voice.

If Mr. Darcy had not appeared to be in distress, she would have returned home without questioning him, but this was not to be.

"Is there anything I can do?"

He studied her for a moment. He was hoping she would make such an offer, but he would have to reveal many unpleasant circumstances for her to be able to understand the source of the quandary. The need for Georgiana to have someone to be with her, coupled with his trust in Elizabeth, prompted him to confide in her.

"Please, sit down. I have a story to relate to you." He walked over to his desk and picked up a newspaper. "I received some surprising news today. I can not believe it, but it is true."

He handed Elizabeth today's paper and pointed to the headline "Man found murdered." She sat Evan down next to her, and gave all of her attention to the article before her.

An early morning murder has the residents of -----street on alert. Mr. George Wickham--address unknown--was found slain in an alley behind the Big Bull Tavern. A reputed gaming establishment, authorities have closed the tavern until further notice. A serving girl found Mr. Wickham's body as she was leaving work for the night. He had been stabbed repeatedly in the back and left for dead, lying face down in the mud. No witnesses came forward and the murder weapon has not been recovered. After a complete search of the area and several interviews with patrons, it was determined the attack may have been gambling-related.

Elizabeth looked up to Mr. Darcy. "Am I to assume you knew Mr. Wickham?"

"Yes, he was my father's steward's son."

"And this is the cause of Georgiana's distress?"

He nodded. "Miss Bennet, there is more."

"Just one moment," she told him.

Elizabeth picked up Evan and headed to the door. She stopped a passing servant as asked her to deliver the child home. Once they were out of sight, she softly closed the door and returned to her seat.

"Mr. Darcy, tell me what I can do to help."

Mr. Darcy sat next to her and related the long, horrid history of his family's dealings with Mr. Wickham.

(Dear Readers, Mr. Darcy tells Elizabeth his story about Wickham's fall from grace, and his scheme to get Georgiana to marry him. I believe most of us here know the story by heart, so I will not repeat it.)

"…she was but 15 years old then."

"Poor Georgiana, thank goodness you were able to stop the elopement in time." Elizabeth was amazed at the depth of Mr. Wickham's deceit and cunning.

"No, Miss Bennet. I failed my sister. I should have never let the situation happen in the first place. She is suffering because of my negligence. If only I had kept her with me, then none of it could have happened. I know I am to blame, and there is no excuse for my actions. Please, do not think I am looking for pity or relief from my liability, I only want you to know that Georgiana was not at fault."

Elizabeth placed her hand lightly on Mr. Darcy's arm. She had never seen him in such a state of anguish before. Determined to assist both him and his sister, she addressed him in a calm voice.

"Mr. Darcy, if it is your wish to shoulder the responsibility of the entire incident, then so be it. Although I disagree with the condemnation you have placed on yourself, I will remain silent on the subject. What I will say is that I have never known a sister more loved, or better taken care of, than Georgiana. In my opinion, you have done a wonderful job raising her; it is evident in her sweet nature and kind disposition. She is a remarkable, talented young woman who I am proud to call a friend."

"Thank you," he said solemnly, "I will take you to her. Please use your discretion when speaking with her."

Elizabeth removed her hand and stood up. Silently, he led her to his sister's room.

They stopped at the door and Mr. Darcy took a deep breath.

"I believe I will leave you two alone for a while. I was unable to comfort her this morning, so perhaps if I am not around…" he looked up at Elizabeth.

She gave him a reassuring smile. "I will do everything in my power to help." Elizabeth opened the door and went into the room.

Mr. Darcy closed the door behind her and stood still for a moment. He heard his sister acknowledge Elizabeth and then more sobs. He said a soundless prayer for both women and returned to his study.

Part 7

Posted on Wednesday, 18-Nov-98

Several hours later Elizabeth left Georgiana's room and went to look for Mr. Darcy. A servant informed her of his whereabouts, and she set off for the study. Mr. Darcy had left the door ajar for her and she peered inside the room.

"Mr. Darcy?"

"Please, come in Miss Bennet." He called as he rose from a chair in the corner. The look on her face gave him some relief.

Realizing the servants may be wondering what was going on upstairs, she once again closed the door behind her. Elizabeth did not want anyone to overhear their conversation.

"Would you care to sit?" He asked as he motioned toward a chair.

"No, but thank you. If I may, I would like to stand."

"Is Georgiana calm? Does she need a doctor?"

Elizabeth passed on to him bits and pieces of her discussions with his sister. Some of what Georgiana shared with her was for her only, but there were still many matters Elizabeth could tell him about.

During the hours they had spent together, Georgiana had confessed to Elizabeth everything about her relationship with Mr. Wickham. She blamed herself for his death. If she had married him, perhaps he would have changed his ways and been alive today. She did admit she no longer held any feelings for the man, and whatever she may have felt in the past was not exactly love. Still, Georgiana's tender heart could not help but be sorrowful at his demise. She, like her brother, accepted more responsibility than was her own.

Elizabeth was the only friend Georgiana had shared information about Mr. Wickham with. She had held in her pain and embarrassment for over a year. At first she was afraid that if Elizabeth knew the truth about her, she would no longer desire her friendship. But, faith in her friend, combined with Elizabeth's natural compassion, compelled her to speak.

The death of her parents had left Georgiana with a fear of loosing the people dear to her, be it by natural causes or her own actions. This was the reasoning behind her desire never to anger or upset her brother. She was afraid of loosing him too.

The ladies spent over an hour discussing this topic and the end result was a good one. Elizabeth did not relay this part of the conversation to Mr. Darcy. She knew it was not her place to do so.

"Georgiana is getting cleaned up and has requested that we join her for tea after dinner. She is not hungry, so I asked her maid to send up some broth for her. Perhaps it will help."

Mr. Darcy's gratitude was evident in his eyes, but she did not want to give him any false hope that Georgiana was 'cured'.

"I believe it will take her a while before she more like her old self. She needs to heal, but with a little time, I have confidence she will be better."

Mr. Darcy was having a difficult time speaking. So many emotions were upon him at once. He took a few steps to close the distance between them. Gently he took her hand in his and raised it to his lips, bestowing a soft, warm kiss on it. He continued to hold her hand, marveling at the size and smoothness of it. As he raised his head, he could feel her breath against his skin. If he thought she would have agreed, he would have kissed her, but he was not willing to risk offending her. Little did Mr. Darcy know that at that very moment, she was wishing he would.

"Thank you, Miss Bennet. I am indebted to you."

"You owe me nothing," she said quietly.

Mr. Darcy was unable to stop himself from looking at her, and she met his silent gaze. Today they discovered another side to each other. His respect for her grew beyond measure, and she now knew that he could be as vulnerable as any other man could. The sound of the clock chiming six brought Elizabeth out of her thoughts.

"Oh dear, I should be going home. I will be back after dinner time for tea with Georgiana."

Elizabeth headed for the door.

"Miss Bennet, I took the liberty to inform Mr. Austen about your tending my sister. I do not think they will be expecting you. Would you be willing to join me for dinner?"

"Thank you, it would be a pleasure."

Dinner was lovely. As expected, Georgiana did not join them but stayed in her room. Mr. Darcy took it upon himself to keep a conversation going. Elizabeth had asked about a painting hanging in the room, and he informed her it was of Pemberley. For most of the dinner hour, he related stories to her of his home in Derbyshire.

Elizabeth listened contentedly as he passionately described the area. He made it sound like a magical place, fertile and enchanting. She occasionally interrupted him to ask a question or have him elaborate on a subject.

"We have had the same problem with our grapes at Longbourn. My father made a concoction that stopped the beetles, but I do not recall what the ingredients were right now." Elizabeth explained.

"My gardeners are at a loss, could you perhaps write to your father and inquire?"

"Yes, I will do so tomorrow. I have been dreadful in my correspondence lately. Should we not check on Georgiana now? I hope she has not been waiting for us."

"You are correct." They both stood and he offered her his arm. "May I escort you to the drawing room?"

Deliberately, they walked at a slow pace, enjoying each other's intimacy, and thinking about the words they wished they could say.

If circumstances had been different that night, Mr. Darcy would have proposed--right then. With the condition Georgiana was in, he thought it best to wait, but only for a short time.

Part 8

Posted on Friday, 20-Nov-98

As the time for the party arrived, everything was in place for an agreeable evening. Elizabeth checked herself once again in the mirror before going down to join the others.

Mr. Austen had insisted she and Jane have new gowns for the party. He would listen to no opposition, and they dutifully went and carried out his orders. Elizabeth settled on a beautiful pale yellow gown. Not only did the color compliment her, but also the cut of the dress flattered her figure.

In anticipation of 'the first two dances', she had decided on having her hair done differently. Tonight she wore it elegantly piled on her head, with long sprigs of curls cascading down her back. A few ringlets framed her face, and as she admired the effect, she was pleased with the outcome.

Mr. Bingley was one of the first guests to arrive, along with his sister. Elizabeth was not delighted at having Miss Bingley present, but Jane whispered to her that it was Andrew's idea.

"Her fiancé has gone out of town on business again, leaving her quite alone. Andrew told me she had to postpone her wedding date until he returns." Jane told her when they had a moment together.

What Jane could not have known is that Miss Bingley had reservations about her wedding ever taking place. During the past few weeks, she had become disillusioned with her prospective groom. He was less attentive to her then he once was, and his constant excuses for not being in her company were wearing on her patience. If it were not for his prominent standing in London society, she may have been tempted to end the engagement. The thought of being Mrs. Willoughby, and the stasis attached to such a name, kept Miss Bingley's tongue silent.

Mr. Darcy arrived alone some time later, but Elizabeth was unaware. Being a tall man, he was able to see her over the crowd. She was conversing with an elderly gentleman, and he could not help but smile. The man, Mr. Janes, was the neighborhood grumbler. He was known to be quite vocal in his dislike for everything and everyone, but Elizabeth was managing him well. He observed her guide Mr. Janes to a chair and get him a glass of wine. She patted the old man's hand before moving away, and as her reward for being so kind, Mr. Janes cracked a grin.

Mr. Darcy made his way toward the direction she was heading, and met her halfway. He did not handle his surprise of viewing her up close as well as he would have liked. He stood there, slightly slack-jawed, and said nothing.

"Mr. Darcy," she said, a little unsure if he approved of her or not, "welcome."

"Thank you, Miss Bennet. You look very lovely tonight."

"You are handsome yourself, Sir," Elizabeth looked around the room, trying to hide her satisfaction in his response. "It seems as if we will have a very full house tonight."

"Indeed. I hope you have not forgotten about the first dance?"

"No, I shall hold you to it." She teased him with laugh.

Miss Bingley was nearby when she noticed Mr. Darcy speaking with Elizabeth. She was not pleased with the look she had seen him give her, and was resolved to get his attention away from that "farm girl". She walked rather briskly to where they were standing.

"Mr. Darcy, how very nice to see you. I see you have found Miss Bennet." Miss Bingley was stationed almost in front of Elizabeth, blocking his view of her.

"Miss Bingley," he bowed to her and said no more.

Miss Bingley stopped the frown she felt forming on her face.

"I believe this will be a wonderful night for dancing. It is a shame my dear Mr. Willoughby can not be here, I feel quite alone without him."

Miss Bingley was satisfied with the hint she had given him. She was looking for a partner, preferably for the first two dances. It would be very embarrassing for her to have to dance with her brother while a man like Mr. Darcy was available.

"Yes," Mr. Darcy answered her, "if you will excuse me, Miss Bingley." He turned his attention to Elizabeth. "Miss Bennet, I will return in a moment."

Mr. Darcy went in search of some punch before the music started.

Miss Bingley was furious, but managed not to show it. Mr. Darcy had not so much as offered to dance with her, and she was deeply insulted. She, too, turned her attention to Elizabeth. In her mind, you could not fathom how a man like Mr. Darcy could even consider giving his attention to someone like her. Being of a jealous nature, she aimed her wrath at Elizabeth.

"It is so nice to see Mr. Darcy happy." She hissed. "It must be his approaching nuptials that have made him so cheerful."

Elizabeth turned her head and looked at Miss Bingley with a questioning expression. She was unclear as to what the woman was referring to.

"Well, of course you know Eliza, everyone does." Caroline continued. "Mr. Darcy is engaged to his cousin Anne, heiress of Rosings Park. It has been planned for some time now. I expect the wedding will take place at Pemberley this summer. Surely you have heard him mention Rosings Park before? This is where his Anne lives."

Elizabeth's heart skipped a beat as it fell into the pit of her stomach. He had mentioned the place before, and she remembered him saying he was going to visit it soon. His Anne?

Miss Bingley gave her a sly, heartless smile as she continued. Her objective had been reached, she could tell by the shocked appearance on Elizabeth's face.

"There have been quite a few broken hearts because of their union, but really, how could any of those silly ninnies expect him to give up the alliance?" She let out a haughty laugh. "No man with any sensibility could not want a woman like Anne for his wife. She has a great inheritance…"

Elizabeth could listen to her no more as she tried to collect her thoughts. Mr. Darcy was to be married? Did he only desire friendship from her? Had she only imagined his attention?

She excused herself and made her way out of the room. Unshed tears were pooling in her eyes, threatening to fall at any time, and she could not seem to catch her breath. She silently cursed all of the people blocking her escape as she pushed her way through them.

At last, when she was at the foot of the staircase, she took hold of the railing to pull her up. Elizabeth gathered all of the dignity she could, and began to climb the stairs. When she reached the third step, a familiar voiced called to her.

"Miss Bennet, are you ill?" He asked with concern in his voice.

Elizabeth stopped, but did not look at him. She could hear Miss Bingley's words he is engaged inside her head, and she could not make them go away. All that she had hoped for, all that she desired, was gone. She knew the man she loved did not love her back; his affections were reserved for another.

Elizabeth never felt so empty in her life.

"I have something in my eye," she lied, "I need to go to my room."

"May I get you some assistance?" He reached out and gently took her elbow.

"Please, let me go."

Elizabeth ran up the stairs, leaving Mr. Darcy standing alone.

Part 9-Conclusion

Posted on Saturday, 21-Nov-98

Once inside the safety of her bedroom, Elizabeth closed the door, and leaned against it. Her first priority was to calm herself. There was a party going on downstairs, and she would not draw attention to herself by being absent for the entire night.

If only Miss Bingley would have not come tonight. She would have continued to make a fool of herself by showing her preference for Mr. Darcy, but she would not of had to feel this pain.

He was engaged to his Anne and there was nothing Elizabeth could do to change the fact. She wanted to condemn others for not telling her about the arrangement, but she had not told anyone of her love for Mr. Darcy.

Elizabeth was certain of one thing--she would never allow herself to love again. Finished with the experience, she would not open her heart to another man ever! She would live her life quietly, possibly taking care of the Austen children, but only in the background. Elizabeth thought of her sister Mary, and how she lived in her own shell of a world. With Mary arriving in two weeks, Elizabeth saw her opportunity to observe her sister, and learn from her.

She was not afraid to change; in fact, it gave her some comfort to boldly make plans for her future. It eased her torment a little.

Of course, Elizabeth was going completely against her nature in her determination. She was not the wallflower type. When she loved a person, she did so with so much feeling that it could not be denied. For now, though, she had convinced herself enough to be able to stop the wild beating of her heart.

It was a good half-hour before Elizabeth came back down to the party. She would not allow herself to do anything that would disrupt Andrew's party, or embarrass the Austen family. With a smile plastered on her face, she descended down the stairs. To her relief, Mr. Darcy was nowhere to been seen. She found it was taking all of her willpower to maintain her control. To encounter him now would be too difficult for her to handle.

The music had already begun, and the ballroom was filled with couples dancing. Elizabeth was thankful she missed the start of the dance. If she could, she would avoid Mr. Darcy for the remainder of the evening.

Mr. Bingley spotted her and asked her to dance. Although dancing was not something she wanted to do, she still accepted his offer.

Elizabeth liked Mr. Bingley; he was a kind man with an excellent attitude. During their dance, he was able to get a few words out of her, but without her usual liveliness. There were times when she would forget to smile, and would have to catch herself. She did not want Mr. Bingley to think she was not happy with her dance partner. Elizabeth kept her eyes focused on him during their dance, and did not look anywhere else.

When the music was finished, he offered to get her some punch. Glad to get away from the ballroom floor, she agreed.

"Miss Bennet, if you would like, we could step out on the patio. There is a cool breeze out tonight."

"Thank you, Mr. Bingley. That would be nice." Grateful for the distraction, she took the glass he handed her and walked out to the patio. She relaxed a little in the presence of the outdoors.

"Lovely night, would you not agree?" He asked her.

"I do." Elizabeth looked up at the clear night sky, but saw no real beauty in it.

For the next five minutes, both were silent. Occasionally he would look over at her, but she did not notice.

Mr. Darcy stepped quietly out onto the patio. He was relieved to have finally found Elizabeth. He had been looking for he since he watched her exit the dance floor.

Mr. Darcy was disappointed he had not danced with her first, but seeing her expressions while she was with Bingley, made him certain she was not happy with her situation either.

"Miss Bennet, may I claim my dance now?" he asked warmly as he moved to her side.

"Mr. Darcy," she replied breathlessly, looking down at floor. "I am sorry, but…" Elizabeth searched for an excuse. "I am rather tired."

He looked at Mr. Bingley and frowned.

"Bingley, can I have a moment alone with Miss Bennet." The tone of his voice was firm, indicating he was not asking for permission, but insisting

"Yes, if is all right with Miss Bennet." Both men stared at her, but she did not answer.

"Darcy?" Mr. Bingley did not know what has wrong between the two of them, but he did not want to cause discomfort to Elizabeth.

"We will be right here, Bingley." Mr. Darcy's demeanor softened.

Mr. Bingley went into the house, leaving Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy alone on the patio. He leaned in to whisper to her.

"Miss Bennet, have I offended you? If I have, I apologize for my actions. I would not do so, intentionally."

She shook her no, not trusting her voice enough to speak. Why, of all the men she knew, did this one have to be taken? He was so thoughtful, and caring. Elizabeth knew she would never meet his equal in any other man.

"Elizabeth, please look at me," he pleaded. "Tell me what I have done."

She could not let this conversation go on any longer. He had called her Elizabeth, and it hurt to hear him say her name so familiarly.

"Mr. Darcy, I think it is time for us to return inside. It is not proper for me to be seen speaking in private with an engaged man."

"But you have not told…" He stopped and looked at her intently. "I am not engaged."

"You will be soon, to your cousin Anne." Frustration was evident in her voice. Engaged today or tomorrow was not the issue, but the fact that it was consider a done deal was.

Suddenly, everything became to clear to him.

"I am not going to marry Anne. I never had any designs of marrying Anne." He looked around to see if anyone was nearby. "Please, come with me."

Elizabeth gave him the strangest look. She was not sure if she should cry, laugh, be embarrassed, or go with him. She chose the latter.

Miss Bingley stood surrounded by a group of young women. She had a self-satisfied smirk on her face as she talked about her 'Dear Mr. Willoughby.' Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her most hated Rival--Miss Grey approaching. Miss Bingley raised her voice to insure she would hear her next statement.

"Oh, it is so refreshing to have a man in love with you. Ladies, I do declare, I have never had more attention lavished on me as I do now."

Miss Bingley sent Miss Grey a fake smile.

"Please, join us, Miss Grey"

Miss Grey joined the circle of women. Although she was not as malicious as Miss Bingley was, she was her equal when it came to the art of conniving.

"Miss Bingley, I have not yet seen Mr. Willoughby tonight. Is he here with you?" she asked in an all-too-sweet voice.

"No, Miss Grey, he has been away on business at Combe Magna. Mr. Willoughby will be returning in another week. He can not seem to away from me long."

Miss Bingley always enjoyed a chance to talk about Mr. Willoughby in front of Miss Grey. She knew it made her jealous, since Willoughby was one of her favorites.

Miss Grey frowned. "I do believe you are mistaken, Miss Bingley. He called on me just this morning. We had a lovely chat together. If I recall correctly," Miss Grey rolled her eyes to indicate she was in deep thought, "he said something about leaving tomorrow."

"WHAT?" Miss Bingley was furious. "I do believe it is you, Miss Grey, who is mistaken."

If Miss Bingley could have gotten away with it, she would have scratched Miss Grey's eyes out. How dare that woman challenge her about the whereabouts of her fiancé!

"No, I am certain. I have the card he left. If you would like, I can get it for you." Miss Grey reached out to pat her small purse. She knew the card might come in handy, so she brought it with her tonight.

Miss Bingley realized she needed to salvage her reputation. If word of this exchange got out, it would be devastating for her. With fire in her eyes, she shot back once again.

"Well, it may be possible he was briefly in town today, I do not know. I was out all day long."

Miss Grey shrugged her shoulders and spoke with insincere concern.

"Of course, Miss Bingley. It is possible."

Miss Bingley turned and marched away. She could hear the women giggling at her in the background as she fled the room.

Mr. Darcy led Elizabeth by the hand to the side of the house, out of the sight and hearing range of other people. He was not entirely sure what he was going to say to her, but he was certainly going to make his sentiments known.

"Miss Bennet…Elizabeth, I am presently not engaged to anyone. There is a woman whose hand I would like to ask for. I have just been waiting for the right time and place. Perhaps, there is no such thing as a perfect moment--I do not know, but…"

Mr. Darcy reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring box.

"I had my steward bring this from Pemberley, where it has been stored for many years. It was my Mother's ring." He opened up the box. "I have been carrying it around for over a week now, looking for that non-existent perfect time." He took the ring out of the box. "Maybe I should stop waiting and just ask?"

Mr. Darcy fell to one knee.

"Elizabeth Bennet, will you wear this ring and become my wife?"

If it is possible to breathe in words, Elizabeth did.

Elizabeth joined him by going down on both of her knees. Almost face to face, she answered him.

"Fitzwilliam Darcy, you may not think this is the perfect time, but your proposal was. I would be honored to be your wife."

The look of complete contentment and joy on both of their faces spoke volumes. All was well in the world that night as he slipped the ring on her finger.

From the Author: Later that night, Fitzwilliam Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet returned to the party. They were both suffering from a case of redden cheeks and bruised lips. (Sorry JA purist, but that is the way it was! * big grin*) For the rest of the evening, they only danced with each other.

One month to the day, they were wed in a lovely chapel in London.

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