Love At First Sight ~ Section I

By Bronwen

Section I, Next Section

Chapter I

Posted on Friday, 28 December 2001

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of talent and physical prowess must be in want of a wife. Therefore, when such a man appears in a neighborhood, the truth of this matter is so firmly fixed in the minds of the families of the surrounding countryside that he is viewed as the property of one or other of their daughters.

"Tom! Tom! Fernham Track is let at last!" Mrs. Bennet stopped, and looked at Mr. Bennet expectantly. When he did not reply, she said, "Well, do you not want to know who has taken it?" Mr. Bennet put down his book and looked at his wife with painful resignation writ clearly on his features.

"You want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it."

"It is taken by a young man of large fortune from the north of England. But you'll never guess who!" She looked at her husband expectantly.

"Ewan McGregor."

Mrs. Bennet clapped her hands together in annoyance. "No, no Thomas. He's from Scotland. No, it's Charles Bingley. Charles Bingley!" Mr. Bennet tilted his head in acknowledgment of her vehemence. "You do know who Charles Bingley is, don't you?" Mrs. Bennet asked, irritated at his lack of excitement.

"Of course, my dear. No one could live in a house with you and Kitty and Lydia and not know about Charles Bingley."

Charles Bingley was a household name in those households that housed serious runners.

"Yes! And he intends to offer it to the team to practice on! He even offered to hold meets there! It has the most wonderful indoor track, and the cross-country trails are spectacular! Why, they are said to be the best in the country! He has over a hundred men cleaning up the trails, and he is re-finishing the track for the coming season. What a fine thing for our girls!"

"Yes indeed. They will be glad to have a good track to run on. Liz especially will appreciate the trails."

Mrs. Bennet sighed in exasperation. "My dear, you must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them."

Mr. Bennet sighed and settled back in his chair as they trod this well-worn path.

Mrs. Bennet's raptures could be heard all over the house. Upstairs, getting ready for their daily run, Jane and Elizabeth Bennet looked at each other and rolled their eyes. They hurried downstairs hoping that they would miss their mother. They were lucky. They could hear her shrieking at Kitty, Lydia, and Mary to hurry and change because 'They were never going to catch runners if they didn't run themselves.'

Chapter 2

Once safely out of the house, they decided to run to Fernham to see what was going on. Elizabeth suggested they race, and Jane agreed. It would be a good run; it was four miles to Fernham and four back. They started off. They both had the right body for running, the right legs, but Elizabeth had spirit on top of all that. She loved running with a passion, which made her the better runner. It gave her an adrenaline rush that equaled those that people get from skydiving. Her eyes grew bright; she loved the feeling of the wind rushing past her. She always ran with her long hair down because she loved the feeling of it tossing behind her- it felt as though she was flying.

Today, she was angry, which added to her energy. The whole combination left Jane far behind. Elizabeth was angry because her boyfriend, George Wickham, had stood her up again that morning. He had become more and more careless, and Elizabeth was not a woman to be careless with- she resented it. Before she could believe it, she could see the top of the Fernham Track roof above the trees. She must have beaten her own record! She put on an extra burst of speed and reached the gates panting slightly. She ran her fingers through her hair and faced the wind with her eyes shut. She leaned her back against the wall, waiting. Finally, Jane came running up. She smiled at Elizabeth and laughed when Elizabeth called out,

"I won!"

"Wow, Liz. You must have broken your record. That was really fast. You left me much too far behind." Elizabeth laughed with her, and said,

"Yeah. I was angry. It's better now, but I still am angry with George. He stood me up again this morning." Her eyes began to flash dangerously again. "I'm sick and tired of George William's crap. He's done it too many times. I don't have the time or the energy to waste on a loser whose idea of the perfect girlfriend is one who agrees with him on everything and gives him whatever he wants." Jane put her hands on Elizabeth's shoulders.

"Is he still pressuring you to sleep with him?" She asked, concerned. Elizabeth sighed.

"Yes. He doesn't seem to get it when I tell him I'm saving it for marriage. He's not even a Christian, so I couldn't marry him anyway. It goes against what God says. I shouldn't have gone out with him in the first place. It's not as though I ever thought of marrying him anyway. So I'm going to break up with him. He can find some other 'chick' to play his games on. Now," Elizabeth giggled again, "I'll race you back." Jane sighed.

"Elizabeth, you may have the energy to run eight miles with a five minute break in between, but I can't. Besides, we came to see what's going on." Elizabeth smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry. But I want to run."

"Why don't you run around here while I rest. Then we can walk around and see what's happening." Elizabeth thought about it for a second, and then nodded.

"OK, that sounds good."

When Jane was ready, she called Elizabeth. They walked around, admiring the grounds.

"I wonder if Charles Bingley is as handsome as he is said to be," Jane said. Elizabeth laughed

"If he is half as rich as he is said to be, mother will be trying to set one of us up with him. It had better be you, Jane, because I don't think he's my type." Jane looked at Elizabeth, surprised. Then she laughed too.

"You've never even seen him before, much less met him. How do you know he's not your type?" Elizabeth shrugged.

"Just a hunch." They were silent for a while. Then Elizabeth began. "You know, Jane, I would rather marry someone poor than someone rich. I mean, that way, there would be no doubt that I married him for love. You know that we would never marry anyone for anything but love. That's partly why it's so embarrassing when mother tries to find us a rich man. Don't get me wrong," she continued, "Money is fine. But it would be uncomfortable to have too much. I mean, I would always be thinking that I wasn't spending it properly." Jane chipped in-

"At least you wouldn't blow it on houses and cars and clothes and stuff like that."

"No," Elizabeth laughed, "I would most likely give half of it to charity, and the other half I would buy an airplane, get flying lessons, and with the rest of it, live my dream." She sighed, then giggled. "That sounds really corny, but you know what I mean."

"About living a year in every country?"

"Yeah. I would love that. It would be so much fun to learn the language and the customs. I took French partly because I like the language and partly because wherever you go, you can almost always find someone who speaks either French or English. It's very useful. Anyway, I'm off track. I would rather earn my own money and travel on that. Or I could always become a writer. Of course, if I can't be an independent writer, I could work for a travel magazine. Or a food magazine. It would be really cool. I mean, I could write recipes from a new country every year. Although I don't think I could live in Russia very long; what food I had while I was there I would rather not have again." Jane laughed.

"Yeah, I remember you complained about it for weeks. You kept saying that peanut butter and jelly was so good. We couldn't believe you, but you insisted." They laughed. By now, they had circled the entire building and were back at the gates.

"I wonder what it looks like inside." Jane remarked. "Any idea when it opens?"

"No, but mama probably knows. I would like to see the track, but I'm more interested in the cross-country trails."

"You're good at middle distance too though Lizzy."

"I don't like running indoors. Middle distance is your strength, Janey. One of the main reasons I run is because it feels like flying."

"I know- that's why you wear your hair down."

"Well, it looks so bad when I finish that there had better be a really good reason for it to get like that!" Elizabeth smiled. "It looks like I haven't brushed it for years."

The man who had observed all of this didn't agree. He thought it was beautiful. That was, in fact, why he had been following them around ever since Elizabeth had arrived. He had been immediately struck dumb. Lizzy would have laughed in disbelief if anyone had tried to tell her that she had struck a man dumb, but she had. He was a fairly intelligent man, also. He had been favorably impressed by Elizabeth's remarks on the subject of money. As a matter of fact, he also wanted to live in every country for a year. He had already lived in the United States for three years, because of Charles. His name was Frederic Darcy and he was English. He was also 'Old' money, which had given him several generations' worth of experience in avoiding fortune hunters. Quite frankly, they made him sick. Generally, when people didn't recognize him, he wouldn't give his real name. He would go by one of his middle names. It also happened to be his mother's maiden name of Featherstonehaugh. (AN-- pronounced Fanshaw-- it's a real English name, I promise!) So generally when not in business circles or where people knew him, he went by Frederic Featherstonehaugh. It was as Frederic Featherstonehaugh that he introduced himself to these two ladies who had so effectively captured his attention.

They whirled around, the one with the incredible eyes and hair scowling, and the blond angelic one with wide eyes. He smiled to put them at their ease, and Jane smiled back, warming to him. Lizzy, however, looked him over disdainfully. He was wearing his favorite Armani suit, a fact she immediately took in. He also heard her whisper to her sister,

"Uh oh- he's rich." The sister shushed her, and held out her hand.

"I'm Jane Bennet. This is my sister, Elizabeth Bennet."

"Frederic Fan- uh, Featherstonehaugh. Pleased to meet you."

"The pleasure is all ours," Elizabeth said sarcastically. Jane elbowed her. "Sorry, Mr. Featherstonehaugh. I'm not usually like this. Must be PMS," she said with a look at Jane, which dared her to disagree. Jane blushed, positive that Mr. Featherstonehaugh would get offended. Frederic however, had heard the part about George and was not offended. In fact, he smiled.

"You can hardly expect me to believe that; you've been so nice to your sister. And please," he held up his hand to stop the tirade he so clearly saw on the tip of her tongue, "Call me Frederic. Or Fred or Rick. But don't call me Mr. Featherstonehaugh. It makes me feel as though I'm at a business conference with someone I don't like." Elizabeth by now had bitten her tongue, and Jane with another look at her sister, stepped in.

"Of course, Fred. You must call me Jane. Elizabeth goes by Elizabeth generally, but if you can convince her to like you enough, you can call her Lizzy." Elizabeth shot Jane another look.

"Would you like to see the inside of the building?" Frederic asked Jane. She was the more polite of the two, but he still liked Elizabeth best. She was obviously put off by the fact that he was rich- which was better, he thought, than being attracted by it. She also intrigued him. Her rudeness he brushed off- she was still angry with her boyfriend and it was inevitable that it brush off on any other man whom she had no reason to trust. Jane's eyes grew wide.

"Can we?" He laughed, thinking how much her eyes looked like a young child's promised a visit to the sweet shop.

"Of course. Come and I'll introduce you to Charlie."

"Charlie? As in Charles Bingley?" Now he had Elizabeth's attention.

"Yes, why?" he asked

"Because if he is rich and half way good looking, maybe we'd better not. Our mother will automatically assume that he's more or less engaged to one or the other of us. As it is, we probably won't be able to tell her we met you. Once she finds out that you're a bachelor, and that you're good looking, she'll be over here faster than a shot asking you what your ideas are of being married." She looked at him head on, her eyes daring him to blow her off. "And although you don't seem unwilling to meet us, I doubt you're ready to propose yet." This last was said wryly, and he caught a look of embarrassment in her eyes. He smiled reassuringly at her.

"So don't tell her you've met Charlie either. Besides, we can both hold our own against hopeful mothers. If these are your views, I don't think we'll have a problem. He will be delighted to meet you." This time, it was Frederic's turn to stare at her with a challenge in his eyes. A little unwillingly, she laughed.

"OK, it's your funeral. We'll hold her off as long as we can, but if she's with us the next time we meet, you'd better pretend you don't know us and don't have a cent. She may talk to you, but she won't harass you about your marriage views and your annual income." Frederic smiled at her, and offered his arm. Elizabeth took it, a surprised look on her face. "Thank you..." He offered the other to Jane. She took it with a sweet smile. They walked the distance to the gates of Fernham, which he opened with a key. The girls looked with interest at the views revealed from inside. The building was large, and it was quite obviously under construction.

Chapter 3

Frederic went straight to the door and opened it. Inside there was a relative hive of activity. In the middle of it all there was a tall man with curly blond hair and a slightly round face. He was directing everything all the while grinning so hard it looked like his face was in danger of splitting down the middle like a walnut.

"Hey! Charlie!" Frederic yelled. The man looked over at them, craning his neck to find the source of the noise. Seeing his friend, Elizabeth saw him grin even wider. She hadn't thought that was possible, but now she knew different. Charlie came loping up to them. He had an easy, graceful stride and covered a lot of ground quickly. He saw the women, and, as Elizabeth had expected, did a double take when he saw Jane. Frederic looked over at Elizabeth to see if she had noticed, and she, feeling his gaze, looked back quirking one eyebrow as she smirked slightly at him.

"They all do that," she whispered.

"I didn't." he whispered back.

"You're the first. Why didn't you, anyway? I meant to ask."

"I prefer brunettes," he murmured glancing at her hair. Elizabeth blushed, and turned to look at Charlie and Jane.

"They are sweet together, aren't they." Charlie, not surprising Frederic, went right for Jane. At this point, however, Frederic steered Elizabeth over to where Charlie was chatting lightly with her sister.

"Charlie, this is Jane and Elizabeth Bennet. If you can get Elizabeth to like you enough, you can call her Lizzy." Charlie smiled at Elizabeth, shaking her hand. When he turned back to Jane, he took her hand and kissed it. Elizabeth suppressed a snort as she rolled her eyes.

"What do you say we leave them to it?" She asked Frederic. He looked inquiringly at her, and nodded towards Jane. "Does it look like she'll miss us? Nah, come on."

She led the way, weaving in and out of groups of workers. She smiled at everyone, acknowledged them if they tried to talk to her, but when the whistles started, Frederic could see her back stiffen. He clenched his fists; anger sweeping over him that these men would dare insult her. For it was clear that she didn't view the whistles as a compliment. However, she kept walking, and he followed her lead. Instead of examining the track, she went right through the back and outside.

"Whew! I'm glad to be out of there!" She said, smiling slightly.

"I'm sorry they upset you. They shouldn't have done that." He could tell by her face that she was considering telling him she had no idea what he was talking about, but finally she just nodded, her smile gone.

"Do you run?" She asked.

"Cross-Country. Charlie does, too, but his passion is middle-distance."

"Jane is exactly the same. They should get along well." Elizabeth smiled.

"How about you? Do you run?"

"Cross-Country. I love it- I can't stand running inside. It makes me feel as though I'm flying. That's why my hair is such a mess- I leave it down because it helps the illusion." She smiled at him, and his mouth suddenly went dry at the thought of her running with her hair down.

"Do you live around here?" He asked, changing the topic.

"We live almost exactly four miles away- at Longbourn. We came here on our run, actually. That's what we were doing here." He thought a moment.

"Would you be up for another run?"

"Sure." she looked at him surprised. "I still have a lot of energy and anger to get rid of. The four miles wasn't nearly enough. I wanted to race Jane back as well, but she wanted a breather and to look around."

"Great. I wanted someone to show me some good places to run, and I haven't met anyone else. Would you meet me in about ten minutes by that tree so I have time to change?" He asked hopefully.

"Sure." She said again. "I take it you don't run in Armani." He looked down at his suit.

"Nope. It ruins the crease." For a moment she thought he was serious; then she saw the playful twinkle in his eye and laughed.

"Ten minutes. You can prove me wrong in my belief that it takes a man just as long as it takes a woman. I'll time you." He laughed too, and hurried away to the locker room.

Twelve minutes later, he emerged. She was, to his surprise, sitting on a branch about fifteen feet off the ground with a stopwatch in her hand. Without looking up, she remarked,

"I thought so. You're two minutes and twenty-five seconds late." He smiled, partly at her exaggeratedly annoyed tone and at the sight of her sitting with her legs dangling like an eight year old. Finally, she looked up. Her eyes grew wide and she gasped. Hoping he hadn't noticed, she gained control again. Oh man, was he fine. He was wearing a tight white tee shirt and loose shorts that almost reached his knees. She focused on his face. He was smiling at her- a smile that seemed to go right to her stomach and make butterflies. She grinned back impudently.

"How are you going to get down?" he asked curiously. She looked around, and realized that the hand and footholds she had used to get up were not practical for getting down. She grinned at him again, sheepishly this time, and shrugged her shoulders.

"Jump?" She suggested. He shook his head, laughing.

"Come on, I'll catch you."

"You sure? I'm no feather-weight."

"I think I can handle it."

"Yeah?"

"How much do you weigh?"

"150"

"Really? I would have guessed less. But I can still handle it."

"Ooh, big macho man rescues damsel in distress."

"More or less. Now are you coming or not?"

"Coming, sir" she replied cheekily with a salute. "Tell them I died bravely under orders." With that, she fell sideways out of the tree and right into his arms. He caught her easily, bending his knees under her weight. She placed her arms around his neck automatically. They smiled, each a little embarrassed. He was enjoying the feel of her in his arms, and she was enjoying being there. He didn't want to put her down, and she didn't want him to. However, after a little while, he did. He had just met the girl after all, and nice as it felt to hold her, he didn't want to push his luck.

Once her feet were firmly on the ground again, Elizabeth took the lead again.

"This way goes into town; Beechvale, that is. This one goes to the ruined castle. This one goes to the playground. What's your pleasure?" He thought a moment.

"Which is the quietest?" Without a second thought, she led the way towards the ruined castle. Frederic followed. It was roughly a three-mile trail, and they took it easy, running at a moderate pace. Frederic was pleased but unsurprised that she was able to keep up with him. He was generally pretty fast. He realized that Elizabeth wasn't going her fastest; she was holding back. He didn't pick up the pace. This was a relaxing run, after all. She seemed to be enjoying it. He was enchanted by the way her hair caressed her shoulders one moment and flew behind her like a banner the next. He wanted to run his fingers through it. Her face glowed with happiness and her eyes gleamed with an exultation that was almost foreign to him. But not completely. He felt it himself sometimes while flying. Flying was his passion. It was another thing that drew him to her. The knowledge that they shared so many dreams and desires amazed him, and left him a bit overwhelmed. He kept casting surreptitious glances at her- so many that he completely missed the scenery. Finally, she stopped, and gestured.

"There it is. Breathtaking, isn't it."

Chapter 4

In front of Frederic was one of the most staggering things he had ever seen. What once must have been a huge castle, it's towers and walls in ruins; it's windows jagged, the cobblestones lining the inside worn nearly through. He was speechless. It was just as a ruined castle should look; the romantic, deserted brooding look that a castle that once bustled and sang with life would be when it had been abandoned for hundreds of years. Frederic took a deep breath.

"It belongs in Tennyson or Byron. One of those romantic, tragic poems about lost life. It's incredible." He walked around it, Elizabeth following. "Do you know who built it?"

"Yes. It was built by King Arthur."

He stopped and looked at her unbelievingly. "He didn't exist."

Elizabeth's eyes began to flash, and she put her hands on her hips. "This castle is proof that he did. Come and look at this." She beckoned him closer to one stone. It said, 'Arthur 376 AD' (Many people argue that Arthur did or did not exist. Personally, I want him to, so he does in this story. No one seems to have a clear idea of when he might have ruled, so I estimated.)

Frederic put his own hands on his hips. "That isn't proof. It could be any Arthur, and besides. Why is that inscription still there? It should have been washed away by now."

Elizabeth began shooting daggers out of her eyes. "Listen, Freddie, you can believe whatever the hell you want to believe. However, there is no proof to the contrary, and I want it to be Arthur. I'm not writing a guidebook, and you can think what you bloody well want to think. But don't treat me like an eleven year old who has no clue. I'm majoring in English and minoring in European History. So don't give me crap." Even though she had now gotten him mad, he admired her eyes and her spirit for giving him what-for. However, she had taken his top off, and he was going to blow.

"For your information, Beth, I majored in History and minored in business. I am also out of university, while you are, what? Fourth year? I thought so. Arthur may not be proven to be a myth, but it is bloody well impossible for him to have built this castle. For one, it is a twelfth century design. He wasn't around in the 1100's. Also, it is in the wrong part of the country. And another, that stone is a fake. It was carved fairly recently- the marks are still sharp. So don't you give me crap. I meant no disrespect and you damn well know it. So stop getting pissed off over something that you don't actually know anything about." She had been looking at him with slowly diminishing anger as he went on, and as he finished, she burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry Freddie, you looked so funny getting mad at me. You're right; but I still want it to be Arthur. Ever since I was little it really bothered me that Guenivere and Lancelot had to go and screw it all up. Though it was partly his fault about Mordred. But still; I always wanted to live then. I wanted to be Maid Marian, too," she added as an afterthought. By this time, Frederic was no longer mad.

"Why are you still calling me Freddie?" he asked, curious. His mother had called him Freddie.

"Because I like it better than Frederic, Fred, or Rick. It's a cute name, and I think it suits you. So that's what I'm going to call you. Unless you mind?" She asked, a little anxiously.

"No, not at all. My mother was the only one who ever called me Freddie. But I get to call you Beth. Deal?" She thought a moment.

"I could get used to Beth. Deal." They shook on it. Suddenly, a rumble of thunder and the sudden absence of light called their attention to the rapidly arriving storm. Beth and Frederic stared at it and then at each other, bursting out laughing. Beth looked down at her white shirt with a grimace. "This could get ugly. Come on!" To Freddie's surprise, they didn't go back the way they'd come. They wove their way in and out of trees, Frederic following Beth's lead. She seemed to know where she was going. He felt as though he was dodging raindrops. They were totally soaked by the time they stopped in front of a bunch of bushes.

"It's not safe to go to the tree house or hide under a tree because of lightning. So we're going to spend the time in here." She pushed through the bushes, which, again to Freddie's surprise, hid a small cabin. A very small cabin. "We built this when I was a tJaneyger," Elizabeth explained. "We keep some necessaries in here." She unlocked the door with a key hung around her neck. "I come here to be alone sometimes. There's some food, a camp stove, blankets, and a mattress. It's big enough for both of us." While she was talking, she strung up a rope from two beams and hung the blankets on it, airing them out. She glanced back at him, and said, "The stove's over there. Could you start it up? To Freddie's surprise, there were cabinets along one side that held a number of pots, as well as cans of soup, bowls, glasses, some milk in the containers that allow you to keep it on a shelf for some time, cereal, boxed stuff. There was also a stove in one corner with a can of gasoline. He was surprised, and when he had gotten the stove started and was heating some soup in one of the pans, he asked Elizabeth about it.

"Sometimes I come here to be alone. I stay the night sometimes. Hence the blankets and food, etc. I was here a few days ago." She had left one of the blankets up, and went behind it to take her wet clothes off. She wrapped a blanket around herself and pinned her clothes to the rope to dry them. "There's a blanket, you can take your things off and hang them to dry." He nodded, and did so. They ate their soup shivering slightly. The storm showed no signs of letting up. Elizabeth suddenly clapped a hand to her head, rose, and rummaged around in the cupboard for something. She came back with one of those long-range walkie-talkies. She pressed the talk button and spoke into it.

"Dad? It's Lizzy. I got stuck at the cabin. Can you call Fernham and tell Charles Bingley that his friend Frederic is here too? Thanks. We'll be back in the morning. Oh, and Daddy? Don't tell Mom he's here. I love you too. Bye!" Frederic listened to this conversation. He understood the bit about her Mother. They finished the soup, and Elizabeth made them hot chocolate with the milk. When they had finished and she had washed up, she suggested they go to sleep.

"Our clothes are still wet, but the blankets are fine. I don't mind if you don't." Frederic replied that no, of course he didn't mind. She nodded, as though this was only to be expected, and made up the bed. She was only wearing a bra and underwear, and he had boxer shorts only. They averted their eyes and climbed in between the sheets. Elizabeth blew out the candles.

"Good night."

"Good night."

Chapter 5

It was about ten minutes later that Frederic heard her teeth chattering. Without thinking, he rolled over and took her in his arms. She jumped, and he apologized.

"Sorry, I didn't think. I heard your teeth..." But after that first initial reaction, she put her arms around him and fell asleep. It was much warmer this way. Frederic, however, took a little longer. There was too much of her skin touching too much of his skin for him to be comfortable.

"Get a grip, Freddie. You just met the girl today. You're both cold, and this is the reasonable thing to do. You don't like her, and she doesn't like you. Not that way." But it was no use. He did like her 'that way.' And it made things extremely difficult. Eventually, Frederic fell asleep.

The next morning, Elizabeth awoke with the sun, and was quite surprised to find herself in a man's arms. She had never found herself in a similar situation before, and was unsure of how to deal with it. However, she wasn't awake enough to care, so she snuggled her face into his shoulder and went back to sleep.

Frederic woke up next, and was surprised to find a woman in his arms. He also had never found himself in a similar situation, and was also unsure of how to deal with it. However, as he looked at the woman's face, he found himself wishing that he could wake up every morning with Elizabeth Bennet in his arms. It was a very pleasant feeling. She felt like she belonged there. Obviously, she felt so too, because when he moved, she held him tighter and murmured in her sleep. So, Frederic, quite content, went back to sleep also.

Chapter II

Posted on Friday, 28 December 2001

Elizabeth awoke again. There was something odd going on. Someone was holding her. She looked up and saw it was her Frederic. HER FREDDIE? WHEN DID HE BECOME HER FREDDIE? She needed to think about this. She knew they hadn't done anything, and she knew that he had held her because her teeth were chattering. And despite the fact that it felt very nice and she wanted to wake up every morning like this, she had just met the man the day before. She hardly knew him at all. What was she supposed to do? She rose slightly in his arms, and studied his face. It was a very nice face. The dark curls that fell over his brow made him look almost boyish. He wasn't very much older than she was, probably 25 or 26. His skin was nicely tanned, and he had long eyelashes. She loved men with long eyelashes. Good nose, two eyebrows instead of the common one, beautiful lips that now were curved into a slight smile that brought out the dimples. The dimples were her downfall. They were the last straw. She was gone- she no longer belonged at all to herself. How disappointing, she thought, that the man I should fall in love with isn't in love with me. "God, you said that if we keep our eyes on you, you will bring us our life partner. Is this he? I hope so, Lord, but if he isn't, it was bad management skills to have us wake up like this through no fault of our own." At the sound of her murmurs, Frederic opened his eyes. The sight that met them was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Elizabeth was leaning over him, still clasped in his arms, looking upward, praying, as her hair fell all around her and on his face and neck. The sight of her talking to their God transfixed him. He decided to join her. He had heard vaguely, her ask about him. She wanted to know if he was The One. It hit him suddenly. Was he? Was she The One for him? He thought so, but better chill.

"Lord, is she the one? Tell me, God. Please. I'm in love with her, you know. You don't do anything without a purpose, and that storm was not forecasted. I checked. Lord, you say you'll bring our spouse to us if we keep our eyes on you. Please, tell me." They got their answer at the same time, and turned to look in each other's eyes. What they saw there reflected their own answer, their hopes and desires, their love for one another. And there, in a little cabin in the middle of the woods near a castle that was not built by King Arthur, they laughed and laughed and laughed.

They ran back to Fernham once their clothes were dry, and found Jane and Charlie there. Jane had a dreamy look in her eyes, and Charlie smiled more than ever. His eyes were bright with joy. They saw Elizabeth and Frederic, and raised their eyebrows at each other as if to say, 'Told you so.' Beth and Freddie, as they called one another, were holding hands as the jogged towards the other couple. To their surprise, Jane and Charlie were holding hands, too. They all laughed some more, and told as much of their respective stories as they cared to share. Charlie and Frederic would drive the girls home and meet the family and announce their engagements. They decided that they would wait for six months, which would give them time to plan the wedding (the girls insisted that it be a double) and get to know each other's other interests as well.

Mrs. Bennet was ecstatic, as they knew she would be. The men got away to talk to Mr. Bennet before she got started on their annual income, which was lucky. The girls were less so, but they were used to their mother being silly, and bore it with as much good grace as they could muster. As it turned out, that was quite a lot, because they had been praying for patience and mercy and grace with their mother ever since they were small. They got most of the wedding planned during the hour and a half that the men were closeted together, which was lucky again, because they didn't have much time afterwards. The men drove the girls into town so Charlie and Jane could pick out a suitable engagement ring. Frederic and Elizabeth came along for the ride only, because Frederic was giving Elizabeth the engagement ring that had been in his family for centuries. It was engraved on the inside, simply with 'Vous et Nul Autre' which is old French for 'You and No Other', and was set with tiny rubies along the outside. Elizabeth thought it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Frederic thought so, too, but only after it was on her finger.

Later that night, Elizabeth was lying in bed thinking about the day's events. She loved Freddie. He was The One, but she didn't know him that well. She resolved to ask Freddie to tell her everything the next day. Her mind made up, she turned over and went to sleep.

At Fernham House, Frederic was also lying in bed. He was amazed at the rapidity of it all. It almost overwhelmed him. He didn't know much about Beth; he knew a little about how her mind worked but not enough to base anything on. He didn't know who her favorite author was, or what her favorite movie was, or if she was allergic to hazelnuts. Resolving to ask her these important questions the next day, he rolled over and went to sleep.

Chapter 6

The next day, they faced each other, took a deep breath, and began simultaneously,

"I..." They laughed and beckoned.

"Ladies first."

"Age before beauty."

"All right." Frederic began. "I was thinking last night that I don't really know too much about you." He broke off, unnerved by her incredulous stare.

"You were." She said in disbelief.

"Ummmm yeah."

"I was, too. Well, shoot." She smiled and he breathed again.

"So anyway, I was wondering if you would tell me about yourself. "He stopped and looked at her expectantly. She thought, folded her hands, and cleared her throat.

"My name is Elizabeth Ariel Bennet. My birthday is November 11th, and I will be 22. I attend Oxford University, at Shrewsbury College. I am majoring in English, and minoring in European History. I want to be a writer, but I also want to be a high school English teacher, because I want to teach other people to love reading like I do. I want to learn to fly, and to buy an airplane, because I love flying. I seriously considered joining the Air Force as a means of reaching that end. I am interested in architecture, too, but I don't know much about it. My favorite author is Jane Austen tied with Dorothy Sayers, but the book I've read the most in the shortest amount of time is Gone With The Wind. I read it 11 times in 7th grade. I can quote pages. I am a hopeless romantic, and as a result, romance novels are my downfall. I try to stay away from the trashy ones, but it's hard at times. I also like Georgette Heyer. Off the romance topic, I love fairy tales. I have probably read most of the fairy tales you can possibly mention, and then quite a few. I only read Hans Christian Anderson, Grimm's, etc. for a whole year. I love mythology, also, and I have read extensively Greek, Roman, North American Indian, Norse, etc. I like learning about wars, and I know some about many, and much about some. I find that wars are one of the best times to study people. It brings out both the best and the worst in human nature. I write stories, but sometimes they have a tendency to get racy, so I have to be careful. I wrote one in high school that my friends will never let me live down. My favorite color is crimson, followed by deep green and light gold. When I have my own house, I want a library with sliding library ladders and a big fireplace and high-backed red leather chairs. My favorite actress is Audrey Hepburn, though I love Lauren Bacall in some of her movies. My favorite actor is Clark Gable. He never fails to have charm. My favorite movies are the 1995 A&E Pride and Prejudice, Four Weddings and a Funeral, the old and the new Guys and Dolls, and I love Monty Python. I like the TV shows better than the movies, and my father and I quote them back and forth. We also quote Douglas Adams, from The Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy. I love old, sappy movies on occasion, but I also like adventure movies. I like animals, in particular cats, but I like big dogs too, as long as they are well behaved and like me, too. One thing I have always planned on doing is living in every country for a year. Well, almost every country. Well, every European country. Almost. I mean like France, Italy, Germany, Austria, Switzerland, places like that." She paused for breath.

"Russia?" He interjected with an innocent smile. She glanced at him suspiciously, but replied,

"Yes, but not for a whole year. Maybe a month or two. I couldn't survive on borscht!" Her eyes were glowing as she described her dreams and plans; she was talking with her hands, waving them about to emphasize her words. Frederic was completely enchanted. She continued,

"I want to be a real writer. Like a published writer. If I was desperate, I could probably turn out romance novels, but I have a sneaking suspicion that doing so would destroy my possibilities for writing anything worthwhile. I want to write literature that just happens to have romance in them. Everyone will love my books because they will turn out happily-ever-after!" She beamed at him. "My favorite flowers are roses (crimson ones in particular!) Forget-me-nots, lilies-of-the-valley, and- oh, I don't remember them all. I'll let you know when I remember. I love trees, especially really big, grand oaks and beeches. I always wanted an avenue, but we don't have the right house for them. You need a beautiful house to go with a beautiful avenue. Anyway, they just grab me. One day, I was walking to school, and there's one near here that was on my way. I just stood there and looked at that avenue for about 15 minutes. I was late to school," She laughed, "But on my way home I did exactly the same thing. It was one of those beautiful end-of-September-beginning-of-October days when the sun is shining through the leaves just right and they are starting to change color...." She broke off. "Sorry, I'm off track. I love the rain, in particular thunderstorms. I like to walk and run in it. Once," Here she blushed and looked down. "Really late at night when the street lights weren't working, my best friend and I went out in our back yard in our bra's and underwear and danced in it. We couldn't see a thing, and we couldn't stop giggling. I love the ocean, especially during storms or just before them. I adore rough weather- watching it, anyway. It's more exciting and gives me a feeling of being wild. It's so much fun. Anyway, that's all I can think of off the top of my head," Here she smiled mischievously, "But when I remember more I'll be sure to tell you." She finished, and refolded her hands in her lap. Her face was straight and serious, but when he looked into her eyes, which were brimming with laughter. He grinned. It was something he'd been doing a lot lately. He was enjoying it very much. He thought for a moment, trying to come up with something important that she might have wished.

"How do you feel about children?" he looked at her anxiously. She looked at him and laughed.

"You look worried. Well, I'm not set on this, mind, but no more than eight and no less than four. Is that OK?" It was her turn to look anxious. Freddie's relief was enormous.

"Yes, yes, that's fine." He contrasted his calm statement with the look of glee that was spreading quickly from forehead to chin. "When do you want to start?"

"I thought that I'd wait a year or two, mainly so that my husband and I could have time to get used to being married before we had another person to look after. What do you think?"

"I agree. I always thought that it didn't matter much, because supporting a wife and child has never been a worry, but I think it's wise to wait a little. Now I think it's my turn to tell you about myself." He paused to draw a deep breath. "Please don't be angry right away, but listen to all of it. I didn't tell you the whole truth." She looked surprised, and then worried, but she didn't say anything. Frederic began, "My name is Frederic Fitzwilliam Featherstonehaugh Darcy. It is spelt F-e-a-t-h-e-r-s-t-o-n-e-h-a-u-g-h." He paused and looked at Lizzy nervously. She made the connection, as he knew she would. Her eyes grew wide as she looked at him. He was expecting surprise, perhaps pleasure, but he was unprepared for the raw pain and disappointment in her eyes. He waited for her to speak, but she didn't. "Yes. That Darcy. I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier. I had heard your opinion of rich people, and I knew that you wouldn't suck up to me because I was rich. Or for that matter," he said, thinking about it, "I don't think you'd suck up to anyone for anything." She nodded in acknowledgment of the compliment. "I prefer to use my mother's maiden name of Featherstonehaugh when meeting people who don't know me personally. It keeps me from being chased. It probably sounds like I'm a conceited ass, and while I'm not denying it; personally I think I have good enough reason to be so. Ever since Junior High, I have been chased for my money. My looks didn't hurt, but my whole experience of women is that they are gold-diggers. I was open to you and Jane, because I overheard your conversation on the subject and realized that I could talk to you without being fawned over. It was a wonderful feeling- very freeing. But your mother- she is a gold digger. Oh, not for herself, for you, which does improve somewhat, but you have to admit- people will always be taking me for a fool because I married into a family where it is so obvious in at least one member that money is the most important thing." He stopped to gather his thoughts. He was intending to continue, but Lizzy stopped him.

"How dare you. You know why I'm marrying you; it is the same reason that you are marrying me. How dare you. Where the hell do you get off? Who do you think you are? I may be in love with you Frederic Featherstonehaugh Darcy, but that sure as hell doesn't give you a right to insult my family and me. Get out. I don't want to see you again." Frederic stared at her. This was an Beth he had never seen before. She wasn't livid or yelling. She was calm and her voice had the clenched, silky sound of ultimate rage. He sat for a minute, and then rose to walk out. At the door, he remembered something.

"Keep the ring." He left, the door closing just before the ring hit it with a crash. A small crash, admittedly, but a crash. Beth threw herself back in her chair and began to sob. She stopped after a moment though, because she had determined that that was not how she was going to handle this. She lay back in the chair and thought. She must have mistaken God's answer to her question. It was obvious that either the answer was 'No' or 'Yes, but not now'.

Calmly, very calmly, she walked through the house to her father's library.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Liz?"

"I was thinking. I think I'd like to do a semester in the U.S. Would that be OK?" Her father looked at her, somewhat surprised.

"That would be fine. But what about Frederic?"

"We aren't getting married, Daddy. He insulted us all and I'm convinced that I misheard God when we asked. I'm pretty sure He said 'Yes" but I think I missed another important part. I think He said 'Yes but not now.' So we're not getting married." Her father opened his mouth to say something, but one look from Elizabeth silenced him. "I'd like to leave soon; the second semester starts in three months." Her father nodded. "Oh, and Daddy?" He looked up. "Pray for me, 'kay?" She hurried out the door, and her father could hear her quick footsteps hurrying up the stairs and over his head to her room. He got on his knees.

"Lord..."

Chapter 7

Elizabeth made all the necessary arrangements between Oxford and Columbia, her choice for the next ten weeks. Her father just couldn't understand why she didn't pick another university- Columbia was one of the best universities for English, but not the first that came to mind when one thought about European History. Lizzy was adamant, however. She had not heard from Frederic, although Charlie and Jane seemed to talk about him an awful lot when she was in the next room. Liz was never sure if this was chance or design; she suspected the latter, but with Charlie and Jane, who knew for sure?

The night before Lizzy left, Jane sat on her bed and they talked. One of Jane's first questions was,

"Does Fred know?" Liz shrugged, not meeting her eyes.

"I don't know. I didn't tell him, if that's what you're asking. He won't care."

"Won't care?! Elizabeth Ariel Bennet, he's in love with you." Liz sat up, her eyes blazing.

"Yeah? So why the hell did he think it his duty to insult our family, me, and think nothing of it? You think that's the kind of love I'm interested in? I obviously made a big mistake not praying about it more. If the answer is still 'Yes', it is 'Yes but not now.' Janey, I've told you all this already. Freddie has to grow up before he'll be ready for anything." Elizabeth drew her knees up to her chest and rested her head on them. Jane looked at her sister, assessing her mental state. Deciding that Elizabeth wasn't feeling homicidal, she asked,

"Do you love him?" Elizabeth threw a pillow across the room, and flopped on her back onto her bed.

"I don't know, Janey. I don't know."

After a minute spent in silence, Jane kissed her 'baby' sister on the forehead and left the room quietly. Elizabeth put her hand over her eyes.

"Lord, what is going on? Am I supposed to be in love with him? I mean, that is hardly the kind of behavior he should be exhibiting, right? I don't think I flew off the handle." She groaned and rolled over. "Yeah right. Who am I kidding? You're an idiot, Elizabeth Ariel Bennet. A real piece of work. He shouldn't have said that, but he was right. Was that it? Did I want flattery? It's not as though I haven't thought the same things myself. But coming from him- Oh, Lord! I really have made a mess of it, haven't I. Help me, please... I really need it."

The next day, Elizabeth had her bags packed in the family car by 9:00. Jane and her father were taking her to the airport. She was flying to LaGuardia, and then taking the train from Grand Central to the Columbia Station. Her new roommate, who Elizabeth knew by email, would pick her up and drive her the rest of the way to their apartment. Elizabeth's present from her father was a first class ticket- they were usually much more expensive, but it had been canceled just before the flight, so he got it for very cheap. What Jane and Mr. Bennet were keeping from Elizabeth was the fact that not only were there no seats left on the plane, but that Frederic Featherstonehaugh Darcy was going to be sitting be sitting next to her. That she would be angry, they had no doubt, but she would have no way of getting out of it. If this strategy didn't work, there was always Charlie and Jane's wedding, at which Lizzy was Maid of Honor and Frederic was Best Man. They wouldn't be able to avoid each other even after that; Jane and Charlie agreed that God intended those two together, and they were going to help that along. They had discussed things like family dinners at which they both happened to be invited, them both being coerced into baby-sitting, things like that. Elizabeth and Frederic should have no worries; their friends were looking out for them. This, however, was what the said parties were afraid of.

What of Frederic during this trying time? He eventually returned to London to clear up any business that might need his attention, and then retired to Darkwater, one of his country estates.

Upon leaving Longbourn, he had been in shock, but returning to Fernham house, he thought over what had occurred.

"IDIOT!! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?? WHY WOULD YOU SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT TO HER?! YOU LOVE HER! THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT YOU HATE ABOUT CAROLINE BINGLEY! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?! YOU WERE DOING SO WELL!! YOUR PRIDE WAS AT A LOW POINT, AND YOU HAVE TO GO SCREW IT ALL UP!!" There was more, but it was all along those lines. You can imagine his chagrin. He completely understood her anger. That anger had in fact, terrified him. He had never seen anyone that angry. He changed at Fernham and went for a run to let off steam. He ran what was roughly a ten-mile loop, able to run faster and longer as a result of his frustration. When he got back to the house, Charlie was waiting for him. By the look on his face, Frederic knew that Charlie had heard everything. By the same look, he knew that Charlie had heard the unexpurgated version of the story. He passed by and went to shower. He was exhausted, and fell asleep without eating dinner. Frederic woke the next morning to the realization that she had meant what she had said about never seeing him again.

"What about our answers?" he thought. "Is she going to go against God? Or maybe we misunderstood. Maybe the answer was "No" and we just didn't want to hear it. But it was 'Yes'!" He sank his head in his hands and. "I really screwed up, didn't I. What on earth possessed me to say something like that to her? I'm surprised she didn't slap me. I would have slapped me. Wow, Frederic. You're a really smart guy. Sensitive, sympathetic, the whole bit."

Elizabeth might have felt better if she had known how badly he felt, but she didn't know. Charlie knew, and it is likely that Jane heard from that source. Frederic knew Elizabeth was planning on going to Columbia. He didn't know when, or what flight, but at the end of January, Frederic received a call from the head of his company's New York branch. The man had a problem. He needed to go in for surgery to get two arteries cleaned so as to avoid heart failure. Mr. Sparrow couldn't find someone couldn't find someone to take over his branch until he was able to return. Frederic groaned internally, and said he'd be over soon. He packed his bags, kissed his sister, and was off to the airport. His sister Georgiana smiled quietly to herself. She had booked his flight herself, not forgetting to inform Charlie of this important development. It was that on January 25, both Frederic Featherstonehaugh Darcy and Elizabeth Ariel Bennet made their respective ways to the airport. Luckily, Frederic boarded early, while her father and Jane, who were full of wishes of good luck and orders to call when she got to LaGuardia and to call when she reached the university, held Elizabeth back. There was some confusion in first class; a man had the wrong seat. Frederic had the window seat, and was staring out of it determinedly.

Elizabeth saw this man's back, and thought it looked familiar. It wasn't...no, it couldn't be. Not sitting next to her. That was too bizarre a coincidence. Things like that just didn't happen. She busied herself stowing her purse under the seat and putting her carry-on in the overhead compartment before sitting down. Frederic saw the woman's reflection in the window. He froze. This wasn't happening. Was he getting a second chance? He wouldn't push it. He stared out the window until the plane took off. As it lifted off the runway, he heard her quick intake of breath and saw her knuckles whiten as she clutched the armrest.

"I shouldn't leave," she muttered. He turned and looked at her.

"Beth?" She stared at him.

"Omigosh. What...How...That's..." She stopped babbling. He was looking at her with such pain in his eyes that her own filled with tears. That was the end of it. The tears spilled out and ran down her cheeks.

"Oh, darling, don't cry. I can switch with someone..." She was sobbing softly now, her shoulders shaking. A little hesitantly, he put his arms around her. "Lizzy, don't cry. Don't." He was rather surprised that she didn't push him away, but he didn't dwell on it. Finally, she sat up and wiped her eyes. Unfortunately, Elizabeth was one of those people whose face gets red when they cry. She groped for her purse, and extracted a packet of tissues. She fumbled opening it, and Frederic took it from her gently extracted two. He handed them to her one at a time, and she mopped up her face, blew her nose, turned to him, and laughed. Freddie's expression was that of a man who has no clue what to do.

"What?" He asked, fascinated. He loved her laugh and hadn't heard it for months.

"You look so funny. Clueless, almost." He laughed too, ruefully.

"Well, it wouldn't be far off. I don't like it when people I love cry. Georgiana doesn't do it much, so when she does, it upsets me all the more. I've never seen you cry before, so I'm even more clueless. Some people don't like to be touched..." He stopped, and smiled. "Off subject." She was staring at him.

"Did you mean that?"

"What?"

"About people you love?"

"With all my heart." She laughed softly at his use of the cliché. "Beth? I'm so sorry for what I said. I couldn't believe that I actually did. I hate people who say things like that. Caroline Bingley, Charlie's sister, is always saying things like that."

"Oh, yeah, Jane told me something about her. Hasn't she been chasing you for years?"

"Yeah. Or rather, my money and position."

"I can see how you got conceited."

"What?"

"You're used to women chasing you because of your looks and money, aren't you?"

"Well, yes."

"Well then. I rest my case."

"Oh, do you? I seriously doubt that."

"You're probably right. OK, I rest it for now."

"I'll buy that," he teased. She punched him lightly. "Abuse!" he said. She shot him a 'look' that clearly read, 'Don't joke like that.' He grinned. She saw it, and he could tell she was having trouble pretending she was still angry. He grinned again, and this time she cracked. She grinned too.

"Men," she muttered at him with a sly look.

"Women." he countered.

"MCP"

"What?"

"MCP."

"Yeah, I got that. What does it mean?"

"You really want to know?"

"I do."

"Male Chauvinist Pig. That's one word."

"Uh huh. Did you know that Female Chatterbox is one word?"

"Oh yeah? Well you..." She was getting a little annoyed, and recognizing the signs that she was going to blow, he silenced her by the most effective means at hand. No, he didn't kiss her. Not yet. He stuffed her scarf in her mouth and while she spluttered and glared, he laughed.

"I'm sorry. You were going to say something you were going to regret." He explained sheepishly. She was still looking at him, but her face had a thoughtful expression, and her eyes were glinting with mischief. 'Oh dear,' Frederic thought, 'What have I got myself into this time?' The last time he had seen that look in her eyes was after he had put a 'Kiss Me' sign on her back. She had short-sheeted his bed, and had put water balloons under his mattress pad.

Needless to say, he had lost that battle.

When they were still together, they had continued the war. Frederic was very pleased that she was contemplating seeing him soon enough to play a trick on him. And he was in for it.

Elizabeth was watching Frederic, and she saw a spark of recollection in his eyes. He knew what was going to happen. She thought carefully, tapping her chin with her forefinger. Frederic was watching her now. He could tell she had hit on something good when her eyes lit up. She smiled at him, and he grinned. He was going to enjoy this.

Chapter 8

Posted on Saturday, 29 December 2001

They got off the airplane friends again, though secretly they both hoped for more than that. Frederic turned to Beth.

"Do you have any extra time before you have to be on campus?" He asked.

"I have four weeks before my classes start." Frederic thought for a moment.

"Is anyone expecting you?"

"My new roommate is picking me up from the train station."

"Do you have a ticket already?"

"No."

"Then how does she know when to pick you up?"

"I was going to call her when I found out the time the train was expected."

"Beth, would you like to stay here with me for a while? I have an apartment, so you wouldn't have to stay in a hotel or anything. You could have my sister's room." He looked at her hopefully. Elizabeth thought for a moment.

"Do you know your way around New York?" she asked, calculating.

"Yes, I lived here for two years with Charlie. Any particular reason that you ask?"

"Yes, of course there is. If I stay, I want to see New York. OK, thanks, I will. How long do you want me for?"

"Forever," he said to himself. Or so he thought. She heard, and blushed slightly. He continued, "How long do you want to stay?"

"Forever." This was said under her breath, but he heard it. She finished, "No longer than two weeks. I need some time to get my room ready, and be able to find my way around the campus." Frederic nodded, trying to be nonchalant. His efforts were in vain, and his grin broke forth, showing how delighted he was with her acceptance. They walked very companionably to the luggage claim.

When they got to Freddie's apartment, Elizabeth looked around in awe. It was the most beautiful room she had ever seen. The walls were a dark wood with a dull gold, red, and green carpet in muted tones. The glass of the skylights was a yellow-gold which softened the light as it came in.

"It's beautiful," she whispered. Frederic was very pleased with her approval. It was very important to him that she approve. He put a hand on her back.

"Let's put out bags in the rooms. Then I'll give you a tour." She nodded dumbly. With his hand still on her back, he guided her up the short flight of stairs and into Georgiana's room. It was very pretty. The walls were a pale yellow, and the curtains were a butter color, and pink flowers with light green stems were scattered here and there. It was a cheery room, one that made her smile involuntarily as she looked around. She turned back to Frederic.

"I think I like your sister." Frederic smiled at her phrasing.

"Good. I'm sure she'll like you, too. Come on, I'll show you around." She nodded, and went to follow him out of the room. Suddenly, she clapped a hand to her forehead, a gesture he recognized as one she used when she remembered something important she had forgotten.

"I need to call my roommate and tell her I'm not coming for a while. Do you have a phone?"

"Of course," he replied, not making a move. He watched her carefully, wondering if she would pick up on his teasing. She looked at him impatiently, then noticed the teasing glint in his eyes. In her eyes, the impatience dissolved into laughter.

"OK, Mr. Wise-Guy, lead into it." The nearest one was in his bedroom. He led her there, and left as he made the call.

When she was done, she bounded down the stairs looking for him. Frederic was in what looked like a small office. She could see him from outside the door. He was talking on the phone. He hung up, and then saw her. He beckoned her inside.

"Come on in. The tour can start here." She looked around curiously as she entered the room. What she couldn't see from the doorway was that there were wall-to-wall bookshelves packed full of books- and there were sliding library ladders. Elizabeth looked around, enchanted. Books were a great love of hers. She noticed, as she walked, that not only was there a great selection, but that they were arranged by size and type, and then by author in chronological order. She smiled as she ran her fingers over Grimm's Fairy Tales.

"You like fairy tales," she laughed. He nodded, smiling almost sheepishly, and answered,

"My mother always used to read them to me when I was little. When I got older, I read them myself. I always thought that life should be like that. I mean, the poor, lovely, kind, deserving, beautiful poor girl gets the prince who is looking for a lovely, kind girl. Otherwise, the princess gets the prince, the wicked stepmother dies a horrible death, and everyone else lives happily ever after."

"I know what you mean. Grimm's is one of my favorites."

"I know. You told me." Elizabeth turned to look at Frederic. He was sitting in the desk chair, leaning back with his feet on the desk. He was watching her with a strange expression that she couldn't describe; but it made her blush slightly. "Oh, I forgot to ask." He slid his feet off the desk and stood up. "Will you be hungry at about seven o'clock?" Elizabeth thought.

"Yes."

"Good. Do you want a shower?"

"Yeah, that'd be great."

"The bathroom is off my bedroom. I'll wait 'til you're done for mine; that way you'll have more time to get ready. We're going out." She nodded, and grinned impertinently at him. "Minx!" he exclaimed delightedly.

"Have you been reading Georgette Heyer?" she asked suspiciously. "The men are always making comments like that." He stared at her as though he wasn't quite sure she was really asking. She smiled and left the room. Frederic was left staring at the empty doorway. He shook his head and went to find a suit.

Chapter 9

When Elizabeth stepped out of the now steamy bathroom wearing his robe, she noticed the suit lying on the bed.

"Oh no," she groaned. "What do I have that looks like that?" Frederic walked in at this point and did a double take at the sight of her in his robe. She blushed slightly, and shrugged. "I should have asked, but I was stuck." He waved away her apology.

"I don't mind, just give it back." She exited the room, only to return a moment later to ask,

"How fancy is this place?" Frederic thought.

"Semi-formal. So, a dress or skirt that is reasonably fancy." She nodded her thanks and left again.

When Frederic knocked on her door an hour later, she called

"Come in." Elizabeth was sitting at the dressing table putting up her hair, which didn't seem to be cooperating. As he watched, fascinated, she gave up and brushed her hair vigorously for two minutes, and pulled what was in her face back on each side with combs. She put on some light gold, slightly shimmer-ey eye-shadow and mascara, swept a stick of Chapstick over her lips, grabbed her purse, and was ready to go. He stared at her as she stood. She had a knee-length deep red velvet dress with and empire-waist that made her skin glow. In the light, her hair had red highlights. Her eyes were shining with excitement. He thought he was dreaming. Elizabeth watched him for a minute, an amused glint in her eyes as she saw him gaping.

"What, did you think I look like I was just running all the time?" He shook his head slightly and looked at her face. He smiled a little, and said,

"I love the way you look when you've been running. Like you have your own private piece of heaven. No, I was just thinking that you look absolutely gorgeous, and that I'm going to have to fight people for your attention all night." At this bit of flattery, she threw back her head and laughed. He was transfixed. This was going to be a long night.

Frederic had decided to take her to the Excelsior Hotel, because it was both nearby and delicious. The restaurant was almost a really high-class nightclub. Elizabeth was excited and a bit nervous. One of her best friends from high school, Charlotte Lucas, had gone to New York to further her singing career. She didn't want to make CD's; she wanted to sing in Jazz clubs and bars- yes, she did watch too many 40's movies, but still. That's what she wanted to do. She had mentioned that the Excelsior had offered her a position as head singer. She hadn't said whether or not she had accepted, and that was several months ago. So far Elizabeth had heard nothing. Actually, Elizabeth had always had the better voice, but she knew where God wanted her. She lacked the ambition and pushiness that was necessary to get auditions and to rise high. So there was an extra butterfly in her stomach as she contemplated meeting Charlotte after almost four years. She didn't mention it to Frederic, because she was afraid that if she voiced her hope, he would be disappointed too, if Charlotte didn't show up. She wasn't sure why she thought that, but she did.

They walked into the restaurant, and Elizabeth could immediately tell that they recognized Frederic. The headwaiter himself bowed and welcomed them, showing them to a table in a prime location somewhat close to the stage. Frederic smiled and thanked him by name. The waiter went to pull out Elizabeth's chair for her, but Frederic smiled and waved his hand. The waiter bowed again and Frederic seated her himself. She felt something brush the top of her head and wondered if it was his lips. Frederic knew it was, but he didn't say anything. The waiter watched this interplay with a small smile. Elizabeth reached up and patted Freddie's cheek. He sat down opposite her, and smiled again.

"Let me see. Champagne? Yes, Pierre, the usual champagne." The waiter nodded and floated off. Really good waiters, like butlers, do not walk. They hover.

They ordered, and when their food came, Frederic beckoned for Pierre to come closer.

"What's the show tonight?"

"Our head singer is singing with the orchestra. She's a big hit. A Miss Charlotte Lucas."

Frederic heard Elizabeth gasp and he looked at her sharply. She seemed all right.

Frederic watched her closely. She was staring at the stage as though she was trying to make a rabbit appear or something. He noticed that she was breathing shallowly as though trying to make no noise, and that she was holding her hands clasped on the table so tightly the knuckles were white. Frederic wondered what it was about the utterance of the head singer's name had upset her so. Elizabeth felt his gaze

"Est-ce-qu'il y a une probleme?" he asked, teasing in spite of his concern. She smiled brilliantly to reassure him.

(Is there a problem?)

"Non, non. Je vais bien. Et tu?" She asked, a twinkle in her eye. Frederic laughed ruefully.

(No, no. I'm fine. And you?)

"Ca va bien, merci."

(Fine, thank you.)

She got a hold of herself, and beckoned the waiter over.

"Excuse me. Will you tell Miss Lucas that Elizabeth Bennet is here?" The man nodded and hurried off. Elizabeth noticed that Frederic was still looking at her strangely. She smiled brilliantly again, and he, reassured, smiled back. The waiter came back with a note for Elizabeth. She opened it quickly and read it as Frederic saw her face light up. It was as though someone was shining a searchlight through her eyes, and her skin seemed to glow happily. She was smiling slightly. She looked up at the waiter again. "Can you show me to her dressing room? She wants me to come see her. Would you like to see the note?" The waiter declined the last, and beckoned her to follow him. Elizabeth looked over her shoulder at Frederic with a look that clearly said, 'Sorry. I'll explain later.' He nodded his understanding, and took his sister's letter out of his pocket and began to read it. Before he got past the first paragraph, the people around him began to clap.

He looked up to see a pretty young woman pushing an obviously reluctant Elizabeth onto the stage. Frederic, wondering, sat back and put the letter away. The other woman stepped up to the microphone, still grasping Elizabeth's wrist with one hand. The woman smiled sweetly, and said,

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I would like you to meet an old friend of mine, Elizabeth Bennet. We were best friends in high school. She always had a better voice- wait, maybe I shouldn't tell you that. Oh well. At the moment, she is getting an English degree, but I want her to sing for you first. As you might have noticed, she's a little nervous, so could you give her a hand, please?" As the audience enthusiastically replied, she grinned, winked, and said, "Thanks. Elizabeth?" She stepped back and Elizabeth walked to the microphone. She smiled weakly, and then her gaze fell on Frederic. He applauded silently so she could see, and winked at her. She grinned. Facing the audience with more confidence, her gamin grin still on her face, she said,

"I really don't know what to sing, as this plan was sprung on me rather suddenly. Are there any requests?" She looked around anxiously, hoping her plea would be answered. A few suggestions were made, but none were very well received until someone stood up and requested her favorite Cole Porter song. She grinned again, and nodded. "I would like to dedicate this to Freddie." He looked startled, and she winked mischievously. The orchestra began, and she sang.

"My story is much too sad to be told

But practically everything leaves me totally cold

The only exception I know is the case

When I'm out on a quiet spree

Fighting vainly the old ennui

And I suddenly turn and see

Your fabulous face.

I get no kick from champagne

Mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all

So tell me why should it be true

That I get a kick out of you.

I get a kick every time I see you standing there before me

I get a kick though it's clear to me you obviously don't adore me

Some get a kick from cocaine

I'm sure that if I took even one sniff it would bore me

Terrifically too

Yet I get a kick out of you...

When she finished, there was a moment of silence. Then the restaurant erupted into a storm of clapping. People stood up and whistled and cheered. Elizabeth smiled shyly, and made her way down to her table. Frederic stood, and took her in his arms. She winked, and kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He was more than happy to go along with it. What neither of them noticed was that the spotlight had followed Elizabeth, and the whole restaurant could see them kissing. When they finally became aware of the whistles and catcalls around them, they broke away. Frederic was grinning, and a heavy blush covered Elizabeth's cheeks. Charlotte ran down and grabbed Elizabeth again.

"Come on! You need to give an encore." Elizabeth dragged her heels, and objected, but Charlotte was strong and would brook no objections. So Elizabeth was hauled off to the microphone again, where she stood uncertainly for a moment until the applause died down.

"Thank you very much. I've been informed by Charlotte here that I need to sing again, so here's one that has always been a special favorite of mine. The entire room held it's breath as she began 'Amazing Grace'. When they noticed her selection, smiles broke out on almost every face, and some started applauding again. The majority hushed them, and she sang on. Frederic thought for the second time that evening that her voice was that of an angel. Apparently everyone else thought so, too, because they refused to sit down until Elizabeth had rendered another. She chose a more modern one, singing 'On My Own' from Les Miserables. No one believed it, having seen her encounter earlier, but she sang well. This time, despite of the pleas of the audience and those of Charlotte, Elizabeth stepped down and went to eat her now cold ravioli.

Chapter 10

When they got home that night, they were both a little uncomfortable as a result of not knowing where they stood. It was obvious to both that the other was still interested, but it wasn't clear how much. They were both uneasy of making the first move. Frederic unlocked the door, and waited for her to step in. She switched on the light, and went into the kitchen. She rummaged through the cupboards, finally asking,

"Do you have any tea?" He stared at her.

"We had coffee at the restaurant."

"I know. I always have tea before I go to bed. It relaxes me." Frederic shrugged, and replied,

"No. I haven't had an opportunity to go grocery shopping yet. I doubt I'll be able to go tomorrow, either, because I have a meeting with Mr. Sparrow about how to arrange this." She nodded.

"Oh! I forgot. Jane gave me a care package before I left. There must be tea in that." She hurried out of the room, returning with a can of English Breakfast. "This is very normal tea. I have some not-so normal, but we'll stick with this for now." She bustled about the kitchen, filling the kettle and putting it on the stove. "I'm going to get changed and wash my face." She left. He looked after her, still a little stunned by the speed at which she could do things. He shrugged again and followed.

They met back in the kitchen in six minutes, just before the kettle whistled. Elizabeth swished out the pot with some of the water, and then put the tea leaves in to steep. She got mugs out, putting milk into hers and lemon and one teaspoon of sugar into Freddie's, at his request. She giggled as she placed the things in the cups. Frederic looked at her enquiringly. She noticed his look, and replied,

"I was just thinking of all those old movies where the woman presides over the teapot whether it's her house or the man's house." He chuckled, having watched a few of those old movies with her, and a few others with Georgiana.

"You do it well, and with such an air!" he remarked, teasing. She laughed.

"Quite. Now, sir, drink your tea like a good boy." She raised her cup for a toast. He, a little confused, followed suit. "Bonne sante!" Elizabeth wished him. Frederic smiled sweetly, and replied.

"Good health." They drank companionably. Half way through her cup, she looked at him over the rim, an assessing look in her eyes.

"What?" He asked.

"You look so cute in those pajamas." She said. He blushed. She laughed.

"Is that really what you were thinking, or was that just to make me embarrassed enough to discontinue the conversation?" He asked curiously. She smiled again and shook her head.

"Not at all. I was thinking you looked cute in those pajamas. You're even cuter when you blush. You should do it more often. The girls would be all over you." He looked at her wryly.

"I thought we had agreed that they were anyway."

"Well, yeah, but even more so than they are now."

"In that case, for my own sanity, I hope they never see me blush." She laughed again. It occurred to him that a few months ago, he might have found that irritating. She could, and almost always did, find humor in a situation. It probably would have made him uncomfortable, because he would have been worried that she was laughing at him. Now, however, he thought it was delightful. He was starting to do it, too, and he found that he liked it a lot. It was a much pleasanter way to look at the world. "I must say you are very beautiful in those pajamas." He said. She raised one eyebrow at him.

"Really. Are you returning the compliment or do you really think so?" He pretended to think for a moment, just to make her punch him playfully. "You're still an MCP, you know. But I love you anyway." They both froze and thought about what she had just said.

"And you are more of a Female Chatterbox than ever, but I love you even more. Funny. I never would have thought that my taste ran to Female Chatterboxes." He continued, "I won't be able to show you around for a few days, because I need to figure out what to do with Mr. Sparrow's affairs. I'm sorry. We'll do stuff on the weekend. Does that sound OK?"

"Yeah, of course. I know this is a business trip. I figured I would get together with Charlotte and she could come shopping with me."

"Clothes shopping or souvenir shopping?"

"Neither." She smiled sweetly, one eyebrow raised. "Food shopping." Frederic laughed.

"Great. How much money will you need?"

"Oh, no you don't. I don't know how much dinner was last night, and from what Charlotte told me, I don't want to know. I will buy it, and I will cook, too. You do your work. I'm here for fun. There's lots of time for that." Frederic started to object, but Elizabeth cut him off by raising her hand. "Come on, Freddie. Say yes. I won't poison you." After suitable protestations that anything like that was farthest from his mind, he said,

"You're my guest. Besides, when will you do everything else?"

"Oh, we're also going to the Metropolitan Museum, the MOMA, and then I'm taking you to the Metropolitan Opera for 'The Ring'. I want to see Les Miserables, too. This cast is supposed to be wonderful." Frederic looked at her uncertainly.

"Ummm sure. But you're still not paying."

"Look, Freddie darling. You're not going to win this one. How about this: I'll pay today, you pay next time." Frederic looked at her hesitantly. "That's the best I can offer. If you say no, I'll go do it anyway." She grabbed his arm and looked up at him. "Come on, Freddie. Please? I really want to do this. Please?" He stared at her, his face impassive. After what seemed to her an eternity, he nodded and said,

"All right. But just this once. Promise?" She hesitated. Then she looked up again.

"Deal. But we may not have to go shopping again."

"Beth..." He said warningly. She grinned cheekily.

"Oh, Freddie, don't worry about it." She tapped his nose with her forefinger, then strolling over to the sink with their empty cups and the teapot and rinsed them all. She put the pot away, and left the cups by the dishwasher. She twirled over to him "I'm going to bed. Goodnight!" She hugged him. They stood like that for a moment. Elizabeth whispered, "Thanks, Freddie. I have a feeling that this trip is going to be unforgettable." He could hear the grin in her voice. He smiled in response and released her.

"Goodnight, Beth."

"Goodnight, Freddie."

Chapter 11

Posted on Monday, 31 December 2001

The next day, Frederic woke to find Elizabeth in her pajamas in the kitchen. To his surprise, there was a box of Cheerios and a small carton of milk on the counter along with two bowls and spoons. He looked at her in awe. She was making tea, and turned to look at him. The sun was shining through the window behind her and made a halo around her. He was struck dumb for a minute. Elizabeth noticed this, and smiled. She couldn't see anything spectacular about herself that would anyone, much less this gorgeous man, breathless. Yet this was not the first time. It made her feel loved--wait a minute! Where did that come from? He didn't love her. Not the way he had behaved. No.

Frederic shook his head slightly and focused on the table.

"Where did you get the food? I didn't think we had any." Elizabeth smiled again and poured Cheerios into the bowls.

"Your neighbor is very nice. I was getting the newspaper, and he was getting his. I asked him if there was a store nearby, and he said yes. I asked if he would tell me where, because we didn't have anything for breakfast. He said he would lend me a box of Cheerios and milk if he can take me to the store. He's very nice." Frederic was eating his cereal at that point, and was enjoying it, too. But when he heard that, he looked up.

"Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Going with him."

"Yeah. Why not?"

"Well, it's New York. And you don't know him."

"Oh, don't worry. I can take care of myself." Elizabeth took a closer look at Frederic.

"You're not jealous, are you?" Frederic looked surprised.

"Am I? Hmmm, maybe that's what it is. Sorry. Does it bother you?"

"Not really, you're a more rational man than many I've met. I don't think you'd get possessive or over-protective or spy on me or anything."

"No, I wouldn't. I'm sorry. I'll try not to be jealous." He laughed, a little note of bitterness in his tone. "I don't have the right, either. No, I blew any chance of that." Elizabeth patted his shoulders comfortingly.

"We're all under construction. I'm glad and, to tell the truth, a little relieved that you don't say things like that often or purposefully and that you realize when you've done wrong and try to fix it. I respect that." She sat down across from him and began on her own cereal. "There is one character trait that God and I are working on. My problem is my temper. It flames up fairly quickly, but once I've yelled for a minute or so, I'm no longer angry. Often, I start laughing. I can't change my temper, but I can lengthen my patience, and learn to...." She searched for the right word. "Not repress, but..." She put her forefinger on her chin, a gesture Frederic remembered with affection. He thought it was adorable. "Confine and isolate my anger so I can solve it in a less...less... violent manner." Frederic smiled at her choice of words.

They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes. When Elizabeth stood up to put her bowl and spoon in the dishwasher, Frederic, who was behind her, noticed a thin spot in her hair. He touched it, and felt her stiffen.

"Beth, what happened to your hair?" He asked, a little concerned. She looked him in the eye, gauging his potential reaction. She took his hand and led him back to their seats.

"Freddie, ever since I was in 5th grade, I have had an Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, more commonly known as an OCD. Well," She amended, "Generally it is classified as OCD, but it is more like a cousin. It is stronger than a habit but not as bad as a really real full-fledged OCD like counting or washing. It is called Trichotillomania, and it means that I pull my hair out."* She paused and looked up from her nervously clasped hands to his face to see his reaction. Frederic was stunned. He had heard of OCD's before, but not this particular kind. Elizabeth continued. "Several times before I have been able to stop by using will power. I had to wear my hair up for seven months in 9th grade because I had a bald spot on the back of my head. Tenth grade was the year I started running." Her face took on a glow as she said that. "And besides from taking up all my time and making me exhausted, it relieved stress, so I didn't have to take it out on my poor hair. Ever since then, it has been improving leaps and bounds. Every now and then, I have a lot of stress and it comes back. Recently," she added, with a wry smile, "My stress level increased a whole lot. So I've started again. Oh, that reminds me. If you see me pulling, would you tell me to stop? I might get a little annoyed, but won't mean anything I say." She stopped for breath, and then asked sweetly, "Any questions?" Frederic was staring at her. After a moment, his brain had finally processed all the information he had received.

"Doesn't it hurt to pull out your hair?"

"No. To those with Trich, it feels good. Some people pull their eyelashes and eyebrows out, but generally they are the perfectionist type"

"And it doesn't go away?"

"No. It's like... like Hepatitis, almost. Once you have it, it's always in your blood, whether it's active or not. Or like alcoholism. It's something that's always with you that always needs to be dealt with. You need to be careful with it, because one hair can set you off again, just like with alcoholics all they need is one drink."

"Is it rare?"

"No, actually. It's quite common. Few men are known to have it, which might be explained by the perpetual short hair or by their determination not to tell anyone." This was said with a speaking glance towards Freddie's cropped curls. Frederic ignored this last.

"Hmmm. That's interesting. Thank you for telling me. I know that it was difficult. Thank you." He took her hands in his and watched her eyes fill with- what? Relief? And what was that? Was that- love?

Elizabeth was having a similar experience. In Freddie's eyes, she saw understanding and compassion. There was something else there. It looked familiar. Love?

Both pairs of eyes registered a new emotion- shock. They smiled tremulously at each other. Then Elizabeth rose.

"I need to shower and change. Rick will be here soon."

"Rick? They guy next door?"

"Uh huh. Rick Fitzwilliam."

"Rick Fitzwilliam?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Because he's my cousin. My mom's sister married the Earl of Seacombe. Rick is their second son and a Colonel in the British regulars."

"Ooohhh, a red coat. I'll bet my sisters Kitty and Lydia wish they were here. They're addicted to soldiers."

"You're not?"

"Nah. Most of 'em are cute, but I'm not interested." She patted his cheek. "So don't get jealous!" With that last parting shot, she sashayed off to her room.

Chapter 12

Rick arrived about half an hour later, knocking on the door. Frederic answered it.

"Hey. Is Elizabeth ready to go? Oh! Fred! What's up?" Frederic shook Rick's hand, and then, nearly pulling Rick's arm out of the socket, he yanked Rick into the other room.

"OK, Rick, why are you here?"

"To get Elizabeth. We're going shopping." Rick informed him innocently. Frederic exhaled heavily.

"Rick, you know what I mean. Why are you in New York?"

"I'm on a job, Fred. Isn't it obvious? I mean, Army Intelligence and all that. What else would I be doing?" Frederic rolled his eyes at his favorite cousin's flippancy.

"Well, don't use Elizabeth for cover. Keep her out of this." Frederic's fierceness surprised the Colonel.

"Uh oh, is there any uh... prior attachment?" He sounded disappointed. Frederic really didn't want Rick within a mile of Elizabeth, but he had to be truthful.

"We were engaged, but I was a jerk and she broke it off. At the moment, we're just friends."

"At the moment?" Rick lifted one eyebrow. "What exactly did you do to the poor girl?"

"I insulted her family. She admits that they're kind of dysfunctional, but for me to comment was unacceptable, and I shouldn't have done it." Rick whistled.

"Whew!"

"Well, admitting your sin is a good step towards solving a problem." Elizabeth strolled further into the room from where she had been observing from the doorway. Both men drew in a breath at the sight of her. She was just wearing boot cut jeans with low black boots, a light green tee shirt, and her hair was braided loosely down her back. There were loose tendrils that curved around her face, and both men were, for the moment, struck dumb. Elizabeth was very amused. Speechlessness was obviously a trait that ran in the family. "Hey Ricky, what's up?"

"Ummm nothing, Liza."

"Liza?" Frederic said, looking from one to the other. "Ricky?"

"Yeah. She said Beth was already taken. I don't suppose it's taken by you, is it?"

"Yes. I hold the copyright, so don't even bother asking." Rick laughed.

"OK. You ready, Liza?" Elizabeth's eyes twinkled at Frederic as she patted her purse.

"Yup, all set. Let's go." She kissed Frederic on the cheek. "Have a nice day, Freddie. Don't fill up, I'm making a gorgeous dinner tonight." Frederic nodded his acquiescence and smiled at the envious expression on Rick's face. He grinned. There were some advantages to being an ex-fiancé.

* If you have Trichotillomania and/or want more information, call the Trichotillomania Learning Center at 1-831-457-1004

Elizabeth and Rick went to B.J.'s * Elizabeth was enchanted. They looked at books. (She bought the entire Left Behind series and the movie to watch with Frederic) clothes, (She bought some new socks, three new sweatshirts, some new leggings and wind pants and tank tops for running, and pajamas.)

Then they went to food. They walked up and down the aisles, putting stuff into the cart. They bought two carts full. Elizabeth was relieved that she had worked over the summer, because the total was almost $300. Rick drove them home and helped her carry in all the groceries. They overflowed the small kitchen.

"Whew! Thanks, Rick. That was fun." Rick looked at her in amusement. "Do you want to stay for lunch? I'll make spaghetti." Rick looked thoughtful.

"How 'bout we put these away and then I take you to my favorite cafe?"

"Sounds great. Thanks." They put the groceries away quickly and Elizabeth put her new things in her room. "Let's go."

They walked three blocks to a small French cafe. Rick ordered a Croque Monsieur, (a grilled cheese and ham sandwich) and Elizabeth ordered a Cobb salad (bacon, blue cheese, hardboiled eggs and chives all chopped up over top.) They had chocolate éclairs for dessert. By the end of lunch, they had become good friends. Elizabeth suspected that Rick might be interested in being something more, but she carefully steered them to neutral topics and tried to make it clear that this was all she wanted. Elizabeth was pretty sure that Rick got the idea, and she was very relieved. They walked home together, and Elizabeth invited him over for dinner the next night. He accepted with alacrity, and asked what she was planning on making. She winked but all she would say was

"Wait for it. I won't poison you, and you don't have to eat it if you don't want. I am really not sensitive about my cooking. It's not what I'm best at, but I'm not bad at it." Rick smiled reassuringly and promised faithfully to eat whatever she made. Elizabeth smiled and showed him out so she could start cooking.

Chapter 13

She was making something simple that her mother made: chicken with whipped cheese that had chives in it and then dipped in breadcrumbs and baked. She made a salad, and then began dessert. She made crepes and filled them with peaches. She put them in the refrigerator and cleaned up the kitchen. She had set the table and showered and changed when Frederic came home. He looked exhausted, poor man. Elizabeth greeted him with a hug, and let out what might have been a squeal in anyone else when he brought from behind his back a gorgeous mix of red and white roses, lilies-of-the-valley, and ferns.

"Thank you! I've wanted flowers for just ever!" She put them in a crystal vase that she had found in her travels and placed them as the centerpiece of the table. She insisted that he sit down at the table while she brought the chicken. She took it, steaming out of the oven and carried it in and put it on the hot platter. Frederic closed his eye at the scent and breathed a sigh of satisfaction. It smelled delicious. He couldn't wait. Elizabeth served them, and Frederic said grace.

Frederic was amazed. The house actually felt like a home with her there. This was what he wanted-- to come home and find her there. It was wonderful to know that she was glad to see him, that she had missed him. And her cooking wasn't bad either. They finished the chicken and salad as Elizabeth told him about her day. He laughed when she told him how addicting BJ's was, and how she wished they had something like it in England. He asked her what she had bought, and she told him. She couldn't remember all the food she had bought, but when they were cleaning up together she showed him the stocked cupboards and refrigerator and freezer. He laughed again and said he could tell she had enjoyed herself. Elizabeth put the kettle on for tea, and as she took out dessert, she suggested he change before they ate it because she wanted him to see a movie. He agreed.

When Frederic came out of his bedroom in drawstring pants and a tee shirt, he noticed that Elizabeth was also in her pajamas. She smiled and handed him a plate with two crepes on it and a huge mug of tea. She led the way into the living room and turned the TV on and put in the movie. As they waited for it to begin, she explained a little about it.

"It's about after the rapture, what it's like for everyone who's left."

(Authors Note: The Rapture is what Christians call the time when Christ will return to take all His followers to heaven so they won't have to endure what comes after. The Book of Revelation says that there will be a seven-year period in which those who are left have time to accept God.)

"Of course, no one knows what that will be like, but it's supposed to be really good." Frederic nodded, and they watched it with great interest.

When it was over, Frederic said,

"That was really good. Really good."

Elizabeth nodded, blown away. "Yeah. Well, now I'm going to have to read the books. I bought the whole series. You can read them, too, if you want." He accepted with alacrity. As they finished cleaning up, Frederic noticed that she was practically dancing around the kitchen, humming to herself. He supposed that this was a result of her day with Rick, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know. However, he asked anyway.

"You seem happy."

She looked at him in surprise. "I am."

He swallowed. "Any particular reason for that?"

"Well, I'm having fun here already."

"With Rick?"

"Yes, among others."

"Oh."

She looked at him suspiciously. "Why?"

"No reason. I was just wondering if it was because of Rick."

"In part, I guess. It's nice to have friends."

"Friends?"

She looked at him, more surprised. "Yeah. What else?"

"I thought you were interested in him for something else. Or at least, that he was."

"Well, I'm pretty sure he was, but I think I made it very clear that friends is all I'm looking for." Frederic breathed a sigh of relief, and she heard him. "What?"

"Nothing. I'm just glad, that's all."

"Uh huh."

"No, really. Rick is my cousin, my favorite cousin, actually. However, he is also something else. I'm telling you this in strictest confidence, mind you. I know that I can trust you to keep your mouth shut; if I didn't, I wouldn't be saying anything. But I still need you to promise that this won't go any farther."

"Of course, I won't say anything. Wait- I should tell you, though, my policy with secrets. I will never tell a secret unless my keeping it will endanger someone in any way shape or form. If it won't, then go ahead."

"It won't. Rick works for Army Intelligence. He is one of their top agents, and he is not on leave right now." Frederic looked at her, waiting for her to catch on. He didn't wait long. Her eyes widened and she spoke,

"So he's on a job where living here is necessary."

"Right. So anyone he is seen with is liable to be watched by whomever he is tailing. And chances are, they know they are being tailed." Elizabeth nodded her understanding, and said,

"I'll remember that. Thanks." She rose. "I'll be back in a sec." She went up the stairs to the bedrooms, returning a little while later with a smallish box. She sat down again, and opened it. Inside, there were two small pistols that Frederic recognized as Lady Colt's. He looked at her, one eyebrow raised. She caught his disbelieving stare, and smiled.

"My father taught me how to shoot when I was young- I wanted to learn because I thought it was glamorous, and he decided to teach me because he thought it was a good thing to know. My father," she explained, "was really paranoid about someone coming back to get him. He's much better now that he's been retired for a while, but he's still a little jumpy. He preferred that I know how to defend myself if someone came after me." Frederic was puzzled.

"Why would someone come after him?"

"Have you ever heard of Edward Gardiner?"

"The famous British agent? Of course. Who hasn't? Didn't he disappear about 25 years ago?"

"27. That was when he married my mother." Comprehension rose in Freddie's face.

"You mean your father..."

"Is Edward Gardiner? Yes. His real name is Thomas Bennet, but he changed it in anticipation of going back to it when he married and had children, for their protection. That is why he is so cautious around new people. He's still nervous." Frederic nodded, understanding.

"So why two?"

"Why do I have two or why did I bring both down?"

"Ummmm both I guess."

"I have two because one was Jane's, but she can't shoot to save her life, and my father decided that it was better that she not have an opportunity to hurt herself. So she gave it to me. It's probably just as well, because unless someone else's life was in danger, I doubt Janey would be able to hurt another person. She is very sensitive about that. I brought two down, because I'm lending you one." Frederic looked up in surprise.

"Me?! Why?"

"Because," Elizabeth explained patiently as though to a small child who thought very slowly, "You have already said that anyone who is seen with Ricky will be under observation. I'm not about to let you run around without some form of protection. So take it."

Frederic shrugged and chose one of the pistols. "OK. Thanks."

Elizabeth looked at him anxiously. "Oh- I forgot. You know how to shoot, right?"

Frederic almost succeeded in looking affronted. "Of course I do. Every boy in an English aristocratic family knows how to shoot. It's one of those things like riding, bowing, dressing, and seducing courtesans that is expected of a man of leisure." She looked at him, uncertain if he was joking or not. He looked at her perfectly seriously. When she looked closer, though, she saw the light of mischief in his eyes. She swallowed a smile, and nodded in serious understanding.

"Of course. I might have thought of that. A few of those, such as riding and dressing, are not taught to highborn young women. Perhaps you could teach me those arts?" Now it was his turn to look startled. His answer, however, was not what she expected.

"Really? I should be delighted. But maybe you could give me a few tips on the seducing bit. I have been given some good advice, but I've never tried it out."

"Naturally, I should be glad to be of assistance. Perhaps you need a little help in learning how to hold your liquor also?"

"Well, I could use a little practice. I've been blessed with a good head, but not as good as I should prefer."

"Ok, bring out the brandy. We can begin now." Nodding his acquiescence, Frederic rose and went to a cupboard. He brought out a bottle and two brandy glasses. He poured a little into each, and passed one to Elizabeth. He sat down opposite her, and they stared at each other over the brandy. Her eyes were twinkling, and her mouth was twitching. His answered hers, and they burst out laughing so hard that the brandy in the glasses swayed.

Chapter 14

"You know," Frederic said, "I'm going to have quite a chat with your father the next time I see him." They were sitting at breakfast the next morning.

Elizabeth laughed. "Yes, he is very interesting when he gets onto the subject of his cases. They're quite fascinating. I'm not sure he should tell me all he does- I'm sure at least some of it's classified- but I'm the only one who's interested. But it really is.... well, fascinating."

"Does Rick know?"

"No. I'll have to tell him now, I guess. I mean, if anything does go wrong he's likely to be thrown off his stride by his companion pulling a gun. What do you think?"

"Well, I think that Rick would be thrilled to hear some stories about your father. He is Army Intelligence, so I doubt they could lock you up if you spill."

"Don't you want to hear it, too?"

"Of course. But I'm not a government employee or anything, so I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"What, think you'll blab?"

"Course not, silly. But your father is not naturally paranoid- there must be a reason why he is so scared for all your lives. Going on that supposition, the fewer people who know, the better."

"Oh. Well, he never said I couldn't tell anyone, and I trust you. For Heaven's sake, I was going to marry you. I'd have to trust you a whole lot to even think of marrying you." Frederic nodded vaguely, looking at her with an intensity that made her uncomfortable.

"Elizabeth..." He had just started when the phone rang. "Hello? Frederic Darcy." Elizabeth watched as the color slowly leached out of his face leaving it a greenish white. "What?" His voice was anguished. Suddenly the color rushed back and his face turned red. His eyes flashed fiercely, and he barked out instructions. "Call the four best Detective Agencies you can find. Call the police, call the Feds. Let the government agents know. I want every rock overturned until that bastard is found!" He slammed down the phone and dropped on the couch with his head in his hands. Elizabeth rushed over, burning with curiosity and concern.

She sat down close to him and put her arm around his shoulders, stroking his hair. She didn't speak, just held him. He turned to her and buried his head in her shoulder. She made vague murmuring noises that seemed to help. She could feel him sobbing. It disconcerted her somewhat; she had never seen a man cry. This man was stronger even than she was, and if he was crying.... She didn't want to think about what might affect him this much. All sorts of horrible 'supposes' were running through her head. Who was that close to him? Charlie? Rick? His sister? An icy qualm came over her- what if it was Charlie and Jane? What if something had happened to her sister? Elizabeth waited in horrible suspense as he raised his head. There was hell in his face.

"Freddie, what is it?"

He heard the terrified note of desperation in her voice and responded to it. "Nothing has happened to anyone you know."

Elizabeth sighed in relief, and then said, "What is it?"

Frederic groaned and put his face back in her shoulder. "Georgiana has been kidnapped."

Elizabeth gasped. "Oh! Do they know who did it?"

"He left a note."

"Freddie.... who was it?" He mumbled something into her shoulder. "What?" He raised his head slightly.

"George Wickham."

Elizabeth gasped again, one hand going to her throat like the heroines in cheesy romance novels. She realized this, and removed her hand with a wry smile. "Freddie, why would he do something like that? I didn't even know you knew each other." He shook his head.

"I don't know, I don't.... wait." He sat up. "That bastard. If that's why- grrrrrr" He didn't say this last, but it emerged from his throat.

"What?" He was pacing now. His hands were clenched, and growls were emerging periodically from his clenched teeth. Elizabeth stood and slipped away to put the kettle on. She was back in two minutes. He was staring out the window with unseeing eyes. She moved over to him softly and slid her hand into his. He turned his head slightly and smiled a little. She was shocked at how much older he looked. She smiled back, and turned him to face her.

"Do you want to talk now? If you don't that's fine."

Frederic shook his head. "Not now, Beth. Thank you. I'm still working it all out. When I know, I'll let you know." She nodded her understanding.

"I'll call Rick and tell him not to come get me. I'll call your office, too, and tell them you're not coming in today." Frederic didn't reply, but he gave her such a look of gratitude that she understood completely. As she left the room, he called her back with a request she was expecting.

"Elizabeth, will you pray with me?" She nodded, and walked back to him. They knelt together, and prayed.

When they were done, after about half an hour, she made the calls, made the tea, brought him in a cup, made some bread, and made Chicken Marsala for dinner. She tidied up, and did some laundry. Finally, there was nothing left to do. Reluctantly, she went back to the kitchen, made some fresh tea, and brought the pot into the living room. Frederic was lying on the couch, fast asleep. She smiled softly, and sat down next to him. She stroked his cheek and his hair. He stirred and murmured slightly. She bent and brushed his lips lightly with her own. To her intense embarrassment, his eyes opened when her head was only a few inches from his. He smiled a sleepy smile of delight. She blushed and pulled away.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't decide whether to wake you or not, but dinner's ready." Neither of them were sure exactly which offense she was apologizing about. Elizabeth thought both.

"Oh, great. But you've made dinner two days in a row- that's not fair. I'll cook tomorrow." Elizabeth smiled mischievously. "You mean it's not fair to you? Or it's not fair to me?"

"To you, of course."

"Well, thanks for the offer, but it'll take forever. I mean, you come home at about 6:30, and we want to eat soon after that. We wouldn't be able to eat until about 8 or so if you cook. It's good practice for me, so I'll do it." Frederic protested again, but she said, "You have my permission to bring me breakfast in bed any time you feel called." Frederic chuckled.

"I'll remember that." As they were laughing, a knock came on the door. Elizabeth went to answer it. It was Rick. She had forgotten the dinner invitation.

She invited him in, and waited for him to notice Frederic. She didn't wait long.

"Fred, old man, what is the matter with you?" Frederic and Elizabeth exchanged an expressive look. She explained,

"Ricky, Georgiana was kidnapped by George Wickham." Rick drew in a swift breath and looked at Frederic again.

"He did it to get back at you, didn't he." Frederic nodded dumbly. Elizabeth looked from one to the other, puzzled. Rick continued,

"The bastard. I knew he was a snake when we were in university, but this! I can hardly believe he would stoop this low. What are we going to do?" Frederic shrugged, a casual gesture that was totally belied by the stiffness of his shoulders and the firmness of his expression. No, not firm. Implacable.

"I've called the Feds and the four best Detective agencies; do you know anyone else who might take on the job?" Rick thought.

"I might take it myself."

Frederic sat up. "You would?"

Rick nodded. "Yes. My job here is almost done; the part that needs wrapping up, I think George Wickham can help us with." Elizabeth and Frederic stared at him in bewilderment. There were faint glimmerings of understanding on their faces, but they were faint. Rick declined to explain, and looked around for something to change the conversation to. The box of Lady Colt's caught his eye. "What... Who's...?" He looked at Elizabeth. "These aren't yours, are they?" She nodded, and laughed at his dumbfounded expression.

"Yes. One has always been mine, and one was my sister Jane's. She gave it to me because she won't ever be capable of shooting it." Rick still looked confused.

"So...why do you have them?" Elizabeth looked at Frederic, who nodded imperceptibly.

"Well, my father had reason to think that one of his criminals might come after him if they ever got out of jail. He changed his name back to the original one, but he still insisted that I learn to shoot, and then gave me my Lady Colt when I was eighteen."

"Aha. Who's your father? And why would he have criminals that came after him?"

"My father is Thomas Bennet, but you would know him as Edward Gardiner." Understanding flooded over Rick's face like the sun coming into a room when the curtains are swept away.

"Oh. I see." The fiddling of his fingers belied his calm reply. "Umm, I don't suppose you could..."

"You want to hear some of his stories?" Rick nodded.

"Please. Would you?" Elizabeth nodded. Frederic got up to leave, but Elizabeth said,

"No, don't go. I want you to hear them, too. We can talk over dinner." That was agreeable to everyone, and they walked slowly to the dining room.

Chapter 15

Posted on Wednesday, 2 January 2002

They sat down. Elizabeth served them all, put water on for tea with dessert, and they sat down to eat. The men exclaimed over the deliciousness of the recipe and the tenderness of the chicken. Elizabeth laughed, and teased Rick about his just liking it because it was his choice. He just as quickly denied it, and attributed it all to her astuteness in choosing good meat. Frederic agreed,

"You should have tasted the chicken she made last night: absolutely delicious! She never has a bad day." Rick agreed,

"My dear, you will be a blessing to your husband in more ways than one." This might have made for a rather awkward moment, but Elizabeth smoothed over it easily.

"Well. Is there anything in particular you would like to hear about?" Frederic looked at Rick, who looked back at Frederic. They both shook their heads slightly, and Rick said,

"How much do you know?"

Elizabeth laughed. "Everything!"

"Then start at the beginning and go on until you come to the end. Please." She agreed.

"All right. Well, once upon a time, there was a young man named Thomas Bennet. He had, all his life, wanted to be an undercover agent. He was a little young to be an operative in the Second World War, but his father was the head of Army Intelligence during that time." She looked inquiringly at Rick, who thought for a minute, and nodded.

"J. Bennet."

"That's right."

"I always wondered- what did the 'J' stand for?"

Elizabeth chuckled. "Jehosephat. Can you blame the poor man?" The men laughed, and admitted that they could not. "Well, my father grew up with all that around him. When he was a young man, his father gave him an opportunity of going to France with our ambassador and an older operative to protect the ambassador from an assassination attempt by those who still had faint hopes of the old animosity coming to life. As it turned out, the older operative was killed in action, but my father was able to apprehend the assassin single-handed. That was the first step. Then, in the early 60's, when The Cold War was at one of its peaks, he was sent as an operative to Poland. Or anyway, what used to be Poland, as an attempt to rescue one of our agents there. During that time, he was beaten, imprisoned, almost executed at least twice as a spy, and finally had to swim six miles across a lake to escape. Really," she broke off, "You'll have to ask Daddy to tell you them fully; I'm not really sure exactly how to wring the last drop of suspense out of them."

The stories went on for hours. The men, in spite of the low suspense level, were absolutely fascinated; and not only by the stories. When the party finally broke up, it was after midnight. They realized that four six hours, they had enjoyed themselves and completely forgotten the worries that beset them.

Chapter 16

The next day, Elizabeth and the Colonel went for a stroll in Central Park. They had an interesting conversation as they took in the zoo, the fountains, the leafless trees, and the people, all bundled up as though they were going for an expedition in the North Pole. Elizabeth and Rick, dressed similarly, laughed at both the other people and the realization that they must look the same. It was Rick who began the conversation,

"Liza, how much do you know about George Wickham?" Elizabeth was a little taken back by the question, but she answered.

"Pretty well. We went out for a few months, I'm sorry to say." Rick was surprised to say the least.

"Really. Well, why did you stop?" She sighed.

"Various reasons. For starters, I never really had any kind of romantic feelings for him. He seemed nice, he treated me right, and he wanted to pay whenever we went out. It's every girl's dream. He wasn't tall, dark, and handsome, nor was he fantastically funny or romantic. But he was OK. The thing that made me give him up entirely was that he kept pressuring me for sex. I'm a Christian, you know, and therefore I have several strong reasons other than common sense for keeping it for marriage. I explained all of that to him at the beginning of the relationship, like I do with every one, and he seemed OK with it. He agreed, didn't want to take back his offer of a date, and was a perfect gentleman for two months.

"The third month, he started being not so nice. He almost hit me a couple times; he did, eventually, but I walloped him so hard he had bruises for several weeks when he tried that. Basically, I kicked his ass. Guys who not only don't respect my decisions and pressure me to do something I don't want to, but also think they can hit me I'm not about to keep around. It really felt pretty good.

"Anyway, when I told him I was breaking up with him, he was pretty upset. That's when he hit me. After I whipped his butt, I didn't see him again."

"Is there any reason for you to think he might hold a grudge?"

"Apart from my messing up his pretty face and ruining his reputation as a Casanova? Nah. Well, actually, my friend Anne Elliot says that she heard him complaining to someone he called 'Tony' over the phone about my being engaged to Frederic. She says he wanted 'Tony' to do something to Frederic." As she finished this sentence, she gasped and put her hand to her mouth. Whirling to face him, she said, "You don't think...that's why? Oh, Gosh! Then it's my fault Georgiana... Oh, Lord!" She was clearly overcome, so Rick quickly disabused her of several mistaken notions.

"No, no. George has had it in for Frederic ever since Frederic had him kicked out of Oxford for cheating. You see, Frederic and George used to be best friends. Well, in a manner of speaking. George's father worked for Mr. Darcy, who was my uncle James, and was his close friend. George was Mr. Darcy's godson. Mr. Darcy thought him an angel, basically, and treated him like his own son. When Mr. Wickham died, Mr. Darcy sent George to Oxford with Fred and myself. Naturally, George roomed with us.

Rather early in our Oxford career, it became clear that George was bad news. He did drugs, didn't write his papers, brought girls back to our rooms, and basically did everything that is deadly at university. Fred and I put up with him for Mr. Darcy's sake, and even helped him write the papers he did trouble himself with. However, at the end of our first year, at our exam, Fred saw him take several papers out of his jacket pocket. He pointed it out to me. Naturally, we assumed that they were cheat sheets, and our suspicions were confirmed later on when we found them discarded in a wastepaper basket.

Naturally, we brought them right away to our professor, and both vouched for them being the same as the ones he had used at the test. The professor examined the sheets, and they were, in fact, photocopies of her answer keys. There was nothing to do but call him in, rip up his test, and send him down. He repeated the offense, and the professor herself caught this time. After that, he was expelled. He tried to get into other universities, but was, I understand, rejected. For some twisted reason, he must have decided to make good his threat to get even with Fred. I don't know why he has decided to do so through Georgiana; possibly because he knows it will hurt Fred more than if it happened to him personally. All I can say is that George Wickham is a seriously sick man, and I'm very glad you got rid of him." Elizabeth drew in a deep breath at the conclusion of this monologue, and said,

"Whew! So am I! I can't believe I kissed him! Ewww! I've tried to forget it- hell, I even tried to forget it while it was happening, but still!" She wiped her mouth as though to wipe away the memory. Rick looked on in sympathetic understanding.

"I have some idea of your sentiments. One day, I kissed this pretty girl that I'd never met before on a dare. She was a pretty good kisser, and normally I would have liked to get to know her. However, just as we finished, Fred showed up, and she went berserk. That was when I learned she was Caroline Bingley. Ughhh!" he shook his head in disgust at the memory. "I don't know if you've met her..."

"I haven't," Elizabeth inserted,

"But I would seriously advise you not to. She is a gold-digging, cold-hearted, manipulative little b****, and has made poor Fred's life a misery for years. I understand she broke poor Charlie's eardrum when he told her over the phone that Fred was marrying you. She has cherished the hope for years that someday he will ask her. He has never given her any encouragement, indeed- he is scarcely polite, but she just won't take the hint." Elizabeth laughed.

"Yes, that sounds like the description that my sister Jane gave me. She is marrying Charlie, you know."

"Oh, is Jane your sister? Of course. Bennet and Bennet. I never drew the connection. Man, and I thought I was passably intelligent!"

"My father would say that that was the army's influence!" Rick laughed.

"Yes, well, I have always believed that the phrase 'Military Intelligence' is as blatant an oxymoron as you can have." They laughed merrily at his joke, and walked home companionably.

Chapter 16

The next day, Elizabeth called her family.

"Hi, Dad? It's Lizzy. No, I'm at Freddie's. You'll never believe it, but he was sitting next to me on the plane." She paused as she thought this over.

"You don't sound very surprised. Dad, did you plan that?" Her father gave up all pretenses of denying this.

"Did he know?"

"Of course not." Elizabeth was satisfied.

"OK. I just called to let you know. I might be here for a while yet. Dad, if I tell you something it is in strict confidence, OK?" Her father agreed.

"All right. Freddie's sister, Georgiana, has been kidnapped by George Wickham." Her father was suitably shocked.

"What is being done to find them?" he asked, very concerned.

"Freddie has called four Detective Agencies, the police, the government agents, and his cousin Rick Fitzwilliam is also keeping his eyes and ears open.

"Rick Fitzwilliam? Is he the son of Jasper Fitzwilliam, the Earl of Seacombe?"

"Yes, I think so. Why?"

"Oh, we were in the service together years ago. Does he know about me?"

"Yes. We've become quite good friends. He's Army Intelligence. I told both he and Freddie last night. They were wondering about the Lady Colts."

"Ah, yes. Perfect little guns, those."

"Yes, Daddy. I quite agree."

"Well, I will see if I can pull influence and get a really good man on the job. Incidentally, you might want to call Mackenzie Connor's Detective Agency. Mackenzie and I were on a few jobs together. He is the best in the business, and the government uses his bureau constantly. He doesn't get much publicity, but everyone with connections knows whom to call in when the going's tough. Tell him you're Edward Gardiner's daughter."

"Thank you, Daddy. I will call him. Tell Mother and Jane and the others that I love them and I'm buying souvenirs for them."

"Oh, that reminds me. Charlie asked Jane to tell me to tell you to tell Frederic that Caroline Bingley is going to New York, and will almost certainly go after Frederic again. He just wanted Frederic to be on his guard."

"Thank you again, Daddy. I will warn him. Love you!"

"Love you too, darling. I miss you."

"I miss you too, Daddy. I'll call you again tomorrow. Bye!"

"Good bye, Lizzy."

"Freddie!"

"Hello, Beth"

"Did you have a nice day?"

"Yes. It was rather hectic, but everything is starting to fall into place. I'm forming relationships with all of Mr. Sparrow's people, and I think that we will all be able to work together very well."

"I'm so glad. I know you were worried."

"You did? How?"

"You get this funny little crease in your forehead, and the corner of your mouth twitches slightly." Frederic put his hand up to his mouth involuntarily.

"Does it? Dear me. That's not good." Elizabeth chuckled and led him into the living room.

"Dinner is almost ready. We're having spaghetti. It's simple, filling, and quick. I've been doing so much today that I need to tell you about." Elizabeth sat down on the couch, and Frederic went to the minibar in the corner and fixed them martinis.

"Shaken, not stirred." Elizabeth said, in her best Bond accent. "I always thought it was funny that good martinis are stirred, not shaken." She accepted the drink with alacrity and sipped it. "Thanks, I needed that." She sipped a little more, and then sank back into the soft pillows. "Anyway, I called my father. I told him about Georgiana, and he suggested that I call Mackenzie Connor's detective agency and tell Mackenzie that I am Edward Gardiner's daughter. Apparently they were good friends in the service, and though he doesn't get much recognition for the jobs he does, he is the best in the business. So I called. Mackenzie suggested that either we come to his office tomorrow and talk to him, or he can come here. I thanked him, and said I'd call back when I asked you." She looked at him, waiting for his answer.

"OK. We can make the appointment for 10:00, if that's all right. I don't need to be in tomorrow; everything is under control. I can postpone the renovations I was planning, and we can talk to him."

"Sounds good. I wanted to talk to you before, but when I called they said that you were in conference and could not be disturbed."

"Yes, I was. But they should have told me you called when I came out. I'm sorry."

"That's all right. The other thing I wanted to talk to you about was that.... hang on, let me get it right. OK. Charlie asked Jane to ask my father to ask me to tell you that Caroline Bingley is coming to New York, and she will almost certainly want to come visit." Frederic grimaced.

"Oh, great. Just what I need."

"Can't we avoid her?"

"We can try." Frederic got up and paced a little as he finished his drink. He stopped as an idea hit him, and looked at her. "Beth, I can think of two things- well, three, I guess, that we can do. One, we can just stay here and let her poke her nose into everything and slow me up and drive you nuts, which is something that I don't want to do, and I very much doubt that you will, especially once she finds out that you're staying with me. Two, we can go away. Most of the work that I need to be here for is done, and what is unfinished I can finish before Friday. There are lots of nice places. We could go to Virginia, or to Florida, or to...well, anywhere. Three, we can pretend we're engaged again. She would basically leave us alone. Apart from a few snide remarks to you and slight insults to myself, I doubt she would bother us. So," He clasped his hands together. Or, he tried to. The Martini glass made that difficult. "Those are the choices that I can think of. Any other ideas?" Elizabeth thought.

"Ummm I don't think so."

"So what's your pleasure?"

"I think we should pretend to be engaged. If she is really as awful as everyone says,"

"She is," Frederic interjected with a shudder,

"I would rather not do number one. And number two is impractical, because we need- or at least, you need to be here so you can know immediately if Georgiana is found. So let's do number three." Frederic nodded, a little pleased at her choice.

"OK. I think we should let Rick in on our secret, because he can help the charade."

"I'll call him now. He's been fishing for more dinner invitations, so I doubt he will, uh, quibble."

Rick had no objections.

"Mackenzie Connor? I think I've heard of him. My father, probably. I didn't know he knew yours. We'll have to have a reunion." They told him about Caroline, and their decision. "Oh no," he groaned. "Not Caroline. I can take anyone but Caroline."

"Will you help us?"

He started. "Wha...oh, that. Of course. The fewer people she can bother, the better." They sat down together and worked out all the details.

Chapter 17

"Freddie?"

"Hi, Beth. What's up?"

"Mackenzie says that 10:00 today is no good. He has another client coming in. How about tomorrow at 10:00?"

"Umm yeah, I can make that. Oh, Beth?"

"Yes?"

"Don't cook tonight, OK? I'll bring something home."

"OK. Thanks."

"That's all?"

"Yes. I'll see you tonight."

"OK. Bye."

"Bye."

At 11:00, the phone rang. Elizabeth answered it.

"Hello? Frederic?" a voice screeched.

"No, he's at work right now. Can I take a message?" Elizabeth asked, holding in her laughter. She could guess who this was.

"Who is this?" the shrieking voice asked suspiciously.

"Elizabeth Bennet, his fiancée. Who is this?"

"Humph. Caroline Bingley."

"Oh, so you're Caroline! My sister is marrying your brother. Are you in New York? We should get together. Freddie will probably be glad to see someone else he knows other than Rick and me."

"Rick? Rick Fitzwilliam?"

"Yes, he lives next door."

"Oh. Well, actually, I was calling to see if Frederic had any room for me to stay with him."

"Well, I think that would be fine. We don't have any extra rooms, but you can sleep in the living room if you want, there's a big couch there."

"Ummm what about Georgiana's room?"

"That's where I am."

"Oh. Well, in that case, I think I'll probably stay at the hotel."

"OK, give us a call when you get in. You'll have to come over for dinner."

"Humph.... all right, thanks."

"Bye!"

Good bye."

Elizabeth hung up the phone and laughed her head off. She immediately called Rick and told him about it, and then she called Frederic.

"Oh no," he said. "Just what I need. Did you really invite her over for dinner?"

"Yes, I figured that we're going to be related, and it will be a good thing to show her that I am here permanently. Or at least, until she leaves."

"Well, you know you are welcome to do whatever you like in the house. I doubt you would do anything you didn't think was best, and I know you are sensible. But I hope you know what you're doing!" Elizabeth laughed, and reassured him.

"Good. Is Rick coming to dinner again?"

"I don't know. He might decide to grace us with his presence. Why?"

"I was hoping he wouldn't. I don't know if you've noticed, but the melting, heart-broken looks he keeps throwing your way often come close to making me sick. I wish he'd stop."

"Yes, but there's nothing I can do. Tell you what. I'll go out with Charlotte, and be careful not to 'bump' into him when I come home. I won't call and ask him, and therefore, unless he just shows up, we should be safe. OK?"

"Sounds good. Did you want to get another movie for tonight?"

"Yeah. Do you like old movies?"

"It depends on the movie. Is it a sappy love movie?"

"No, I'm not in the mood for that. It's a good one."

"OK, I'll trust your judgment."

"Are you sure? That might not be a good idea"

"Beth, what are you planning to do?"

"Oh, nothing. Goodbye, Freddie. I'll see you tonight."

"Goodbye, Beth."

That night, Freddie came home early.

"Beth? I brought pizza." She came out of her bedroom.

"Freddie? Great. Thanks."

"Did you get a movie?"

"Yeah." She held it up.

"You Can't Take It With You?"

"Yeah. You've never heard of it?"

"No."

"What's wrong with you? Jeez, it's one of the best movies ever. Come on," She took his arm, his hands being full of the pizza, and led him into the living room.

Freddie loved the movie.

"It's so funny!" he said. Elizabeth looked at him a little uncertainly.

"Did you really like it?"

"Yeah! Why, do you think I'd lie about that?"

"Yes, so my feelings wouldn't be hurt."

"Well, I'm being honest. Pick out another for tomorrow; I like your choices."

"Sure. Thanks. Have you heard anything about Georgiana?" Frederic sighed in discouragement.

"No. The detectives are still trying to pick up their trail."

"Well, we still have Mackenzie Connor. 10:00 is when our appointment is."

"Yeah. I think I'll stay home tomorrow morning; maybe even take tomorrow off."

"That would be nice. You can relax."

"Right. Don't get up tomorrow morning; I'm making you breakfast in bed."

"Sir, yes Sir!"

Chapter 18

The next morning, Elizabeth was woken by a crash and the sound of a man attempting not to howl. She chuckled as she listened to the sounds emanating from the kitchen, waiting patiently.

After an hour or so, there was a soft knock on her door.

"Come in." Frederic nudged open the door and walked in carrying a tray that looked like it weighed a ton. Not only were there every breakfast food on it from eggs to pancakes to French toast to bagels to cereal, not to mention kippers, bacon, sausage, and orange juice. She looked dubiously at the tray as he set it down on the desk and then whisked out quickly to return with the teapot and two cups. She smiled, and gestured to the bed.

"Won't you sit down?"

"Thank you." He bowed. They had a very enjoyable breakfast.

Promptly at 10:00, Elizabeth and Frederic presented themselves at Mackenzie Connor's Detective Agency. They were ushered in and shown seats, which they sat in, much to the surprise and indignation of the receptionist. They had not been waiting for five minutes when the door burst open and a man bounded in.

Elizabeth and Frederic stared at him. He was almost a caricature of a Scotsman. He was of middle height, with flaming red curly hair and a red beard and mustache. He had blazing blue eyes that seemed to make holes all the way through you.

Elizabeth and Frederic shifted a little uncomfortably; they were sure he could see all the way through them and was laughing a what he saw.

He was younger than her father, Elizabeth noticed, but he was obviously on the wrong side of forty, if not fifty.

Elizabeth and Frederic shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

"So, you're Edward Gardiner's daughter, eh?" Elizabeth nodded.

"Yes, sir, one of five girls." Mackenzie gave a shout of laughter.

"Not a son among ye, eh? Aye, I thought that was how it would be. Ed was always saying how he wanted two sons. Never considered that he might have daughters. But when he called for the first time in almost thirty years to help you and your fiancé, I could tell that he was no longer wishing for sons."

"Thank you, sir. This is Frederic Darcy." Mackenzie looked at Frederic carefully.

"One of the Darcys, eh? Knew your uncle well, and your mother. And your sister's been kidnapped?"

"Yes, sir. Georgiana."

"And you know who did it to, eh?

"Yes, sir." Elizabeth broke in. "Unfortunately, the kidnapper, besides practically being Freddie's adopted brother, was at one time a boyfriend of mine- George Wickham." Mackenzie shook his head.

"Lassie, you need to be more careful. This one," he jerked his head at Frederic, "Is a good 'un. I'll take that as a sign that your judgment is improving." Elizabeth grinned.

"Yes sir!" Mackenzie laughed

"You and the laddie may call me Mac. Now, tell me what you know."

Chapter 19

They left Mac much comforted that Georgiana was his problem too- one got the idea that Mac wasn't one to let his problems stay problems for long. Elizabeth remembered that they needed some chicken and more vegetables and fruit, and she wanted to make a chicken in a cream and mushroom sauce, so they needed cream and mushrooms. They stopped off at a market and bought apples and pears and lettuce and celery and cucumbers and some flour and yeast, as Elizabeth wanted to try to make her own bread. This time, Frederic paid.

When they got home, Elizabeth asked

"Do you need to do anything in particular today?" Frederic shook his head.

"No, why?"

"Do you want to learn how to make bread with me?"

"Sure!" while they got out all the ingredients, Frederic continued. "I made bread with my mom when I was little. Well, I got a little loaf of my own to knead when she was done stirring, and then she baked it for me. It was so exciting." Elizabeth smiled.

"Yeah, my aunt makes bread, but I never took the time to learn properly. Chances are, it won't turn out the first time, but it's worth a try."

They spent the rest of the afternoon making their bread, which, to their delight, did come out. They went over with a loaf for Rick, and boasted about it until he was forced to escort them back to their own apartment. Giggling, they went back into the kitchen.

"Do you want to make cookies now?" Elizabeth asked, getting excited.

"Great! I'm in a cooking mood today."

"Yeah, me too. This is fun." They made oatmeal raisin cookies, sugar cookies, chocolate chip cookies, and shortbread cookies. By the time they looked at the clock, it was 8:30.

"Oh, dear! It's really late and I don't have anything made for dinner!" Frederic looked at the mess around them.

"I have an idea. I know a really good Chinese food place; we can order and clean up while we wait."

"Sounds good. Let's get Orange Chicken and Walnut Prawns, OK?"

"OK, but we also have to get Lemon Chicken and dumplings."

"Oh yeah, I forgot the dumplings. Let's get Amazing Chicken, too- there's vegetables in that."

"Agreed. I'll call now." Frederic put the call through, and they were promised delivery within half-an-hour. They did a whirlwind cleanup of the kitchen, put the dishwasher on, did the pots, and set the table.

Chapter 20

Posted on Friday, 4 January 2002

The next day, Elizabeth received a call from Mac. Eagerly she listened to what he had to say.

"Lass, Wickham has gone underground. My men are looking for him, but it could mean precious weeks. So you're engaged to the lad?"

"Yes."

"How far would you be willing to go to get the lassie back?"

"How far is necessary?" Mac told her. "I'm willing, but I need to talk to Frederic first." Mac concurred.

"Call me when ye've spoken t'him."

"I will. Goodbye, Mac."

When Frederic arrived home, Elizabeth had made dinner. He came into the kitchen and kissed her on the cheek."

"Hello. Did you have a nice day?" She asked absently. He took off his suit jacket and tie.

"Yes, thanks. Everything's coming together, and I can take a few days off soon." He looked exhausted. Elizabeth turned back to the stove and lifted the steak, fried onions and fried mushrooms onto the serving plate. She frowned, unwilling to put something else on his shoulders. When she turned around the frown was gone.

"Would you set the table while I finish up here, please Freddie?" He nodded and picked up the place mats and utensils. He came back for the water jug, and Elizabeth preceded him into the dining room, carrying plates and the steak.

As they were eating, Elizabeth put down her knife and fork and watched Frederic. After a few seconds, he put down his knife and fork and looked at her, one eyebrow raised.

"What is it?" He asked curiously. She looked down at her plate. "Beth, what?" She took a deep breath, not looking up, and said,

"Mac wants me to be bait for Wickham. When George grabs me, his men will follow us and take all three of us back." Frederic stared at her, his face growing hard.

"No." Startled, she looked up quickly.

"What?"

"No. I won't let you." She stared at him.

"Why not?"

"Because. Don't you think it's hard enough with Georgiana kidnapped? I won't lose both of the women I love, especially to the same man. I won't have you put yourself in danger." She stood.

"I already told Mac I would. Come on, Freddie. There's very little risk. Mac's guys won't let me out of their sight. All we have to do is place a notice of our engagement in the society columns and he'll bite. It can't fail!"

"Yeah," Frederic muttered. "That's what I'm afraid of." Elizabeth sat, and leaned across the table, placing one hand over his. He turned his palm up and held hers.

"Freddie," she said gently, "Please let me do this. I'm the reason George went off the deep end like this. I know it's not really my fault, but I am involved. I feel guilty anyway. And I love you, and I hate seeing you like this. How much sleep have you been getting? Not nearly enough. If I don't do this, it will take weeks before Mac can find her, unless there's a lucky fluke. George has gone to earth, and this is the only way. Please let me." Freddie tightened his clasp on her hand.

"Beth. . . I. . . . all right. Someone is going to regret this, and I hope it's not us." Elizabeth squeezed his hand.

"It won't be."

Mac would have at least four armed men tailing her at all times. Rick was alerted, and promised to call in a few favors on her behalf. Frederic called the New York Times and arranged to have a notice sent in the next day. When he hung up, he clapped a hand to his forehead and asked,

"You don't have the ring still, do you?"

"Of course I do. Hang on a sec." She ran upstairs to get the ring out of her jewelry pouch. "Here it is," she called gaily as she entered the room.

She handed it to him, and he slipped it on her finger. They grinned at each other, and Elizabeth said,

"We'd better come up with a good proposal, because everyone is going to want to know." Frederic laughed, and concurred.

"All right. Let's see- did I get down on one knee? Take you out to a very expensive dinner? Take you to a Yankee game and have the scoreboard light up with "Beth will you marry me?" ? Or what?"

Elizabeth tapped one finger on her chin. "Leave that to me. I'll come up with a meltingly romantic story for me, and a dignified one for you. Let's see." She tapped her chin again. "I have it! I came home today from shopping to find the floor of my room completely covered by Hershey's Kisses. There was a note that said, "Now I have Kissed the ground you walk on." I went downstairs again, looking for you, and found two candles on a side table. There was another note that said, "Hide and Go Seek"- dining room table." On the dining room table is another note that says, "Kitchen stool". On the kitchen stool is a note that says, "Linen Closet". In the Linen Closet, there is another note and a box that says, "Front Hall Closet" In the box is a gold mechanical pencil. I open the door to the Front Hall Closet and find a paper taped to the inside with two boxes. Next to the two boxes are the words "Yes" and "No". In the note stuck up next to the paper, it says, "Living Room Sofa". On the living room sofa, you are sitting, and you get down on one knee, and say, 'Beth, I love you. Will you marry me? I want you with me all the time, when I come home, to have our children, to grow old with, to talk to, to argue with, to kiss, to have forever. Will you?' And then I take out the pencil and the piece of paper, and check 'Yes', and you grin and kiss me. Then we wrote up an announcement and sent it into the New York Times. There," she finished. "What do you think?" Frederic stroked his chin, pretending to be the stereotype of a Chinese philosopher stroking his beard.

"Hmmmm. I don't know if Charlie or Rick would agree that your proposal is particularly dignified. Rick would probably just say, 'How about it, baby?' and Charlie probably took Jane's hand and said, 'Will you marry me?' " Elizabeth laughed.

"Yes, but my proposal was invented by me. It's the kind of thing every woman wants- chocolate, and the man she loves asking her to marry him without a prenup." Frederic laughed.

"If I were marrying anyone but you, that might not be so. Especially Caroline Bingley." (Shudder)

"Freddie, be nice. I know you can't stand her and that she's been stalking you for years, but you're safe now." He laughed.

"Thanks for protecting me, Beth. I appreciate it." She laughed too, and kissed him on the cheek.

"You're welcome. I'm going to bed. Good night!"

Chapter 21

"Hello?" Elizabeth dived for the phone as it rang for the fourth time.

"Who is this?" An unfamiliar voice demanded.

"Elizabeth Bennet. Who is this, please?"

"I am Lady Catherine DeBourgh. Is this not Frederic Darcy's residence?"

"Yes it is, but he's at work. Can I take a message?"

"Who are you?" Elizabeth almost giggled.

"I'm his fiancée. Who are you?"

"Young woman, I am his aunt! Kindly inform him of my call."

"I will, Lady Catherine. Does he have your number?"

"He should. Good day!"

"Good bye." As she hung up, Elizabeth wiped her forehead. "Whew! Staying at Freddie's puts me in an awful lot of weird telephone situations."

She dug out her personal phonebook and looked up Charlotte.

"Charlotte? It's Elizabeth. Do you want to go to the Met with me today?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll swing by and pick you up and we can do lunch first."

"Sounds good. I'll see you here in an hour?"

"Great. Bye."

Elizabeth raced around, called Mac and Freddie and told them where she was going. Mac promised to have the men at the apartment in 20 minutes for her to meet. She had a shower, dressed, and put on eye makeup.

When she went to answer the knock on the door, she saw Mac and four ordinary, inconspicuous men. She opened the door to find herself hugged enthusiastically by Mac.

"Good morning, Lassie. How are ye?"

"I'm fine, Mac. Come in." The five men entered and looked around. Elizabeth led the way to the kitchen. "Can I offer you some coffee or tea? Or maybe something cold?" They thanked her and accepted. Mac made the introductions.

"Elizabeth Bennet, John Donovan , Marc Burdock, Dane Medina, and Sam Chastain." They all shook hands.

"I'm very pleased to meet you." Elizabeth handed around the coffee and a plate of the cookies she and Freddie had made. They chatted for a few minutes, then Mac rose.

"Well Lass, I just thought you would like to know who will be looking out for you." Elizabeth smiled sweetly at him.

"Thanks. I'm sure they'll do a wonderful job." They shook hands once more and left. Elizabeth stopped smiling and picked up the phone.

"Daddy? I need you to investigate some men for me."

When she got off the phone with her father, a thoughtful look on her face, she went over and knocked on the door of Rick's apartment. He opened the door and ushered her in. She looked around and said,

"Do you check for bugs?" Surprised, Rick said,

"I do an electronic sweep twice a day, yes."

"And is it always clean?"

"So far, yes." More surprised by the minute, he added, "Why?"

Elizabeth leaned closer and whispered something in his ear. After a few minutes, she pulled back. Rick was staring at her incredulously.

"You're kidding."

"Nope. I'm going to have to ask you to come to the Met with Charlotte and me. Do you mind?" Rick shook his head.

" 'Course not, Liza." She hugged him.

"Thanks, Ricky. You're a pal." She used his phone to call Charlotte. "Sari? Elizabeth. Rick's coming with us-I'll explain later. We'll meet you at the Lexington Café in fifteen minutes."

Charlotte was waiting for them outside the café, a worried look on her face.

"Elizabeth, what on earth is this about?" Elizabeth looked around nervously, then dragged her friend into a corner and explained.

"You remember I told you that Freddie's sister, Georgiana, had been kidnapped? Well, the man that we hired to find her used to be an old friend of my father's. Or, at least the man we thought he was. I remember thinking that he looked like a caricature of a Scotsman-and I was right. I talked to my father this morning after they left, and Daddy says that Mac would never exaggerate his accent like this guy does. He was always unobtrusive- he had to be. He is a private detective, and he used to be a secret agent. They are trained to be unobtrusive-that's how they stay alive. This guy is the most flamboyant of flamboyant Scotsmen. He wouldn't last a minute. Besides that, the real Mac is black Scots--none of this orange hair and blue eyes stuff. I'm almost positive that he placed a bug somewhere." As Elizabeth finished, Charlotte was seen to be staring, openmouthed at her friend.

"Man! It sounds like a James Bond movie. Spies left and right. So what do you think this Mac character is going to do?" Elizabeth shrugged.

"I have a sneaking suspicion that he is in cahoots with Wickham. So here's what I'm going to do-I'm going to go through with my plan, except Rick here is going to have his men following us. He'll put one on you, too-and to keep up the fiction that he really is on my side, Mac will have to allow me to keep my cellphone. Daddy told me the best place to buy an automatic transmitter, and I'll put that behind my ear. That way, no matter what, you'll always be able to find me." Rick nodded slowly.

"Sounds good. I have twenty men at my disposal-I'll put one on you, Charlotte, and two on Elizabeth and two on Freddie." Elizabeth thought for a moment.

"Rick, would you go with Charlotte? I think it would be better if you stayed with her. It was really stupid of me to put you in this position, Sari. I'm really sorry-I can't believe I didn't think of that." Charlotte and Rick were staring at her. Elizabeth watched them, a smile slowly growing. Naturally, she had more than just her friend's safety in mind. "Charlotte? Rick?" They started and turned to look at her.

"Yeah?"

"Well? What do you say?" Charlotte turned to Rick again, and said,

"If you're the best, I want you on Elizabeth. She's going to need a hell of a lot more help than I am." Rick smiled, and said,

"I am certainly one of the best, but bodyguards are what Elizabeth needs. You need someone who can anticipate. If we do this, it's going to have to look real. If I move in with you, it will be because we're dating seriously, OK?" Charlotte nodded.

"OK. My neighbors don't know me well enough to know that I wouldn't do that. I have an extra bedroom, and I'll clear it out for you." Rick nodded.

"Great. Liza? We're all set." Elizabeth nodded, pleased, and said,

"Terrific. Let's eat."

Chapter 22

Elizabeth called Frederick on his cellphone from a payphone to tell him the newest developments. Needless to say, he was shocked.

"Mac? A bad guy? You're kidding. I thought your father recommended him?"

"He did-but he recommended the real Mac. The real Mac has black hair and eyes. That's a slight deviation from our Mac. So this is what we're going to do." She told him about the bodyguard situation. "Rick is going to get one of his men to go to the place Daddy told me about. That way, if anyone's tailing us, they won't know that I'll have a transmitter." Freddie wasn't pleased with her plan.

"Beth, I really didn't want you to do this before, when I knew that Mac was on our side, and I really, really, really don't want you to do it now. Please. I don't know what I'd do if both of the two women I love more than anything were lost. Please. We'll get Rick on it, find another investigator, anything. Money isn't an issue-but I won't play Russian Roulette with your life." Elizabeth, needless to say, was very touched by this.

"Freddie, darling, don't you understand that I would rather do this than see you so upset? I love you dearly, and that is a major reason I want to do this. I think it's the right thing to do. From what you've told me, Georgiana is likely to be so scared of George that she won't be able to do anything. I never panic, I'm extremely capable, and I'm very rarely at a loss. Please let me do this.

"I want you to get in touch with my father and ask him about other agents he knows. We can contact them through Rick, and much as I hate to say it, you have money and are influential-the feds will help. Use your resources.

"I have to go--Rick needs to take me home before he goes to Charlotte's." Frederick had more to say, but he replied,

"All right, Beth. Can we talk about this when I get home?" Elizabeth smiled, and said

"Of course, Freddie, if you want. I'll see you then. Bye."

Rick brought Elizabeth home and called one of his men over.

"I want you here until Frederick comes home. Understood?" The man, whose name was Denny, nodded.

"Sure, boss."

"You, Jimmy, and Saunderson will be living in my apartment next door. It had better be in good condition when I get it back. I want one of you in this apartment at all times when it's just Elizabeth. You and Saunderson will be on Elizabeth, and Jimmy is on Frederick. You should all get along just fine." Elizabeth smiled and thanked him.

"Denny, please call me Elizabeth. You can help yourself to anything; I really appreciate this." Denny, who had fallen half-in-love with her the second he laid eyes on her, blushed and thanked her. Rick left with Charlotte, bringing a suitcase from his apartment, and Elizabeth took Denny around both Frederick's and Rick's apartments. When Frederick came home, it was with two other young men. Denny introduced Elizabeth to Jimmy and Saunderson. It was with amused envy that Frederick noticed that all three were smitten.

The three men said good-night and retreated to Rick's apartment when it became obvious that the couple wished to be alone. Frederick put on water to boil for tea (he had fallen into Elizabeth's routine) and found some chocolate cookies in the cupboard, all of which he brought into the livingroom on a tray. Elizabeth gave him a tired smile, and he poured the tea and then went to sit next to her. She leaned her head against his shoulder, and he put his arm around her. They sat back holding their mugs and basked in each other's company. Elizabeth broke the silence.

"I know you don't want me to do this, Freddie, but please, consider it from my point of view. I'm positive that George kidnapped Georgiana to hurt you because of me. And I'll be damned if I'm going to let him get away with it." Freddie sighed and put his cup down to pull her close. He touched his nose on hers and said, looking straight into her eyes,

"I do see it from your perspective, Beth. And I understand that you blame yourself, even if I don't. George would have gotten around to this anyway. He's tried it before." Elizabeth sat up and stared at him.

"He has? Why didn't you tell me? When? Why?" He sighed again and pulled her back to him, resting his chin on her head.

"You know why he hates me. Well, there was another incident. Georgiana is seven years younger than I, and I've looked after her since I was twenty-one and my parents died. I was her guardian until earlier this year when she reached her majority. She's always looked up to me as more than a brother. And I would do anything for her." Elizabeth felt the pain in his voice and snuggled closer in an attempt to banish it. "Three years ago, Georgiana wanted to go to Europe. It's a tradition in my family that when one graduates from high school, one gets a trip to Europe. Of course, who am I to argue with tradition? And I thought it would be good for her. She is fluent in French, Italian, German, and Spanish, but she really wanted to visit St. Petersburg. So, as Rick and I were both unable to accompany her, I hired a woman who spoke fluent Russian from a well-known, reputable agency. She had exemplary references, and she and Georgiana got along well. So I sent them, by way of France, Italy, and Germany to St. Petersburg. They were to go to Spain on their way back east.

"Well, the story goes down-hill from there. Mrs. Younge, the companion, was in. . . in . . . cahoots, I guess, with Wickham. George wanted revenge on me for what he considered 'ruining his life' and knew that as Georgiana was the most precious thing in the world to me, the best way to hurt me would be to hurt her. So he met up with them in St. Petersburg. (She still adores the city, by the way; you two can talk when we find her.) I hadn't told her the whole story concerning Wickham; she only knew him as my childhood friend who had always been kind to her. She was persuaded that she was in love and to elope. She was seventeen.

"Luckily, before they had left, she had made me promise that I would to St. Petersburg for a week in mid-July. I met her at her hotel when she and Wickham were just about to leave to find a church. She was overjoyed to see me and informed me of their plans. Needless to say, it took a great deal of restraint to keep me from killing him right there. At least," he said with some slight satisfaction, "He was practically unrecognizable when I finished." Elizabeth laughed softly and he continued.

"He was, it turned out, intimately connected with Mrs. Younge-- they were lovers and had planned this. They were to split my sister's inheritance, which is 30,000,000 pounds." Elizabeth gasped at the sum. "Yes," Frederick said with a twisted smile. "They thought so, too-- they thought thirty million pounds was well worth the trouble they would have to get rid of her-- and they were going to." Elizabeth gasped again, this time in horror.

"Get rid of her?" Freddie nodded.

"Yeah. Get rid of her-- probably permanently; otherwise they'd have to give the money back." Elizabeth was staring at him, her eyes open wide in horror and her face white.

"This is getting blacker and blacker all the time!" she cried softly. "Oh, Freddie, I'm so sorry!" He smiled grimly.

"Yeah. Me too." He held her closer to him, and she rested her head on his chest and held him tightly to banish to fear she saw in his face. "Oh, God, Beth. I don't know what I'll do if she isn't OK," he said thickly, and she could feel him holding in the sobs. She sat up and pulled him so his head was on her chest and she was holding him close as he cried for his sister. She felt tears streaming down her own face as a grim determination built up in her.

She was going to get George Wickham. He was going to wish he'd never seen her; he was going to rue the day he ever tried anything on the Darcys. He would regret everything-- because Elizabeth Ariel Bennet would do anything to make sure Frederic never cried again. She smiled coldly as she thought of all the things she would do to George. Castration sounded good. Frederic looked up into her face to see that smile and it sent shivers down his spine.

"Beth, what are you thinking?" She looked down at him and the smile turned to one of heart-breaking tenderness. She smoothed back his hair and wiped the tears from his face. He chuckled ruefully. "I seem to cry a lot around you." She smiled again, this time in amusement.

"I'm honored that you feel comfortable enough with me and trust me." He wouldn't be sidetracked.

"What was that scary smile about?" She looked puzzled for a minute and then started to look guilty.

"Well, I was thinking of all the lovely things I'm going to do to George when I find him. I'm thinking a machete and a pair of pliers." Frederic winced.

"Ouch. I have to admit, though, I agree. When I find him he is going to wish he'd never heard of either the Darcys or Elizabeth Bennet."

Chapter 23

Posted on Tuesday, 26 February 2002

The next few days went well. Frederick had a little difficulty explaining Jimmy's presence, but they liked one another and each enjoyed the other's company, so it was believed when people were told that Jimmy was an old friend who was writing an article on Frederick.

Elizabeth and Denny and Saunderson were similarly well matched. When all three were together, they got along very well. When Elizabeth went out, Denny always accompanied her and Saunderson, as he was good at being inconspicuous, followed them, keeping an eye on things. Elizabeth almost forgot the reality of the threat after a few days, but it was brought home to her in a very unfortunate way.

It happened thus: a man bumped hard into Denny, tearing him from Elizabeth's arm. The crowd emerging from the subway cut her off from Saunderson and the man had his arm around her and a gun unobtrusively to her back within seconds. Denny was left groaning on the sidewalk and Saunderson tried desperately to force his way through the crowd of Japanese tourists. By the time he reached Denny, Elizabeth and her captor were long gone.

The two tore up and down the streets, searching for Elizabeth's distinctive red coat as Saunderson used his cell to call Rick. Rick, needless to say, was very upset, but he didn't say anything but,

"I'll be there," and hung up. The two men clung to this as they searched and searched, getting more desperate. They were well trained, and they tried to be as professionally detached as they could, but they were both very attached to Elizabeth. Rick was there in record time. He called Jimmy and told him to keep Frederic at the office all day until Rick, Denny, and Saunderson came for them. He had dropped Charlotte off at Frederic's office building, only telling her the basics.

When Charlotte arrived at Frederic's door, white-faced and scared, Frederic almost had a heart-attack. As it was, his heart hit the soles of his feet as he asked in a near whisper,

"Beth?" Charlotte shook her head.

"They got her." Under different circumstances, Frederic would have laughed at that melodramatic phrase. As it was, he slumped into his chair and with jerky movements covered his face with his hands. Jimmy came up,

"Rick and ten of the men are looking for them. If they can be found, they will be. Fred, you and Charlotte and I are not to leave the office until Rick and Denny and Saunderson come for us. Understood?" The two nodded dumbly. "I'm going to ask your secretary if she will get us all some lunch and hot, sugary coffee." The other two shuddered. "I know you feel like you can't eat, but you're both in shock, and you must have food and sugar to stabilize," he explained patiently. He went to the door and gave the instructions, then went to a cupboard and retrieved two fleece blankets. He put one around Frederic, sitting in his chair, and motioned Charlotte over to the window seat where she sat with her feet up and put the second blanket over her. The food arrived and they sat and waited.

Elizabeth was having a very interesting time of it. She wasn't scared, she knew she had her Lady Colt in her ankle holster and the transmitter was still (most uncomfortably) transmitting behind her ear. She sighed. She was sitting on a bed in a bare room without windows and a very thick, formidable door on the other side of which sat a very large guard with a very large gun. She considered her options.

The only one she could think of that didn't involve her dying a rather nasty death was to just sit and wait to be rescued. She sighed again. She hoped it wouldn't be too long of a wait.

Elizabeth looked up quickly as the door to her room was opened loudly. She could hear a woman sobbing and stood as someone was tossed into the room and the door closed again. Now the sobbing woman was in her room with her. Elizabeth knelt by her and said softly,

"Georgiana?" The other woman looked around wildly, saw Elizabeth and sat up quickly.

"Who are you?" She asked warily.

"I'm Elizabeth Bennet."

"Oh-- the one my brother--" she stopped, embarrassed.

"Yes," Elizabeth laughed, "The one your brother was engaged to. Did you have something to do with the two of us sitting next to each other on the plane?" Georgiana giggled, her tears gone.

"I did. But it was your father and Jane's idea." They laughed together. Georgiana sobered, and asked, "How is my brother?" Elizabeth sighed.

"He's fine physically, but he's been worried sick over you. We both have." Georgiana was confused.

"Wait. Why are you here?" Elizabeth sighed yet again, and began the whole story. "So," she finished, "You see why I'm here?" Georgiana shook her head. Elizabeth nodded and went on. "It's partly my fault, you see. George felt that Freddie stole me from him, and it just blew his top off. So I offered to be the bait. Unfortunately, the hook wasn't ready when he bit. But they'll find us. I'm sure they will." She didn't say anything that wasn't common knowledge; Mac would have told George everything she had communicated to Georgiana; if he had the room bugged, he wouldn't learn anything new. She sighed again. "I think we should get some sleep. Do you want the wall?"

The next morning, they awoke; cramped but refreshed to a certain extent. Georgiana was no longer despairing, and she clung to Elizabeth's reassurances that they would be rescued. Elizabeth, meanwhile, was busy determining how well they were guarded. She pounded on the door until she heard a lazy, irritated,

"What?"

"I have to go to the bathroom!" The guard laughed.

"Tough. I'll bring you a jar later." Elizabeth and Georgiana stared at one another, not expecting the crudeness. Then they began to giggle.

Chapter 24

"Well," Elizabeth said, stretching, "I don't think there's much more for us to do." She marched to the door again and thumped upon it.

"What!" She and Georgiana kept their hands over their mouths to keep the giggles in. The guard sounded very upset.

"We're hungry and thirsty. Do you intend to starve us?" There was a pause, and then the guard said gruffly,

"All right. I'll call." They could hear a telephone being picked up and cursed silently. If they were to escape, they would have to take out the guard before he could use the phone. It was getting harder and harder; but they didn't give up hope.

"Here's what we'll do," Elizabeth explained in a whisper. "If the guard takes the tray and brings it to us, we just have to jump him before he can get out or yell. We can use the tray to hit him on the head." Her face lit up suddenly. "Oh! Georgiana, lie down there and pretend you're dead. When he comes in, I'll . . . no, wait. We'll do that if this plan doesn't work for some reason. OK, I'll stay here where the door will hide me. Come with me. When he doesn't see anyone, he'll come in and investigate."

The guard did take the tray to them, but, to their delight, did not enter the room. He dropped the tray and ran up the staircase opposite the room shouting,

"The women are gone! They're gone!" Elizabeth grabbed Georgiana and they made a mad dash for the stairs that went down. Elizabeth stopped for a second and got out her Lady Colt. Georgiana was confused, but Elizabeth grabbed her arm and they hurtled out of the door. They were in an alley, and there didn't seem anywhere to go. Elizabeth took the way that was lighter and they soon ended up on a street labeled 125th Street.

"Great," Elizabeth thought, "Right in the middle of Harlem." She grabbed Georgiana and they began walking briskly down the streets.

"I know a really cute cafe that isn't too far once we're out of Harlem, and I have some money. We can call Rick from there." Georgiana's head snapped up.

"You know his number?" Elizabeth stared at her.

"His cellphone number? Yeah. But it won't do us much good until we find a phone." Georgiana's face lit up and she dug in her pocket, coming up with a very small red phone. Elizabeth stared at it.

"Does it work?"

"Yup; I turned it off so when I needed it, the battery wouldn't be dead." Elizabeth threw her arms around her friend.

"You're a genius!" She grabbed the phone, turned it on, and dialed Rick's number, picking up the pace with her feet. They were almost out-- 119th was behind them. Rick picked up, saying,

"Yes?" In a hurried voice.

"Ricky? Elizabeth. Georgiana and I escaped. We're on 117th and heading for your cafe. Can you meet us there?" Rick was dumbfounded, but his speechlessness passed quickly.

"Liza? Are you and Georgiana all right? Hurt at all?" Elizabeth laughed.

"No, we weren't raped or beaten. We're hungry and thirsty and I have to pee, but physically we're fine. I left my transmitter in our room. It was in an alley off 125th." Rick breathed a sigh of relief.

"Great. I've sent ten men over. Denny, Saunderson and I will meet you at the cafe in five minutes." Elizabeth thanked him and hung up. She kept the Colt in her coat pocket, close at hand as they hurried their steps to the cafe.

Chapter 25

Posted on Wednesday, 27 February 2002

They didn't make the appointment. They were just even with a sign reading '122 Street' when they were grabbed. They began to scream, but hands were clapped over their mouths and they were very capably and smoothly shoved into a white van. Elizabeth and Georgiana stared at each other in consternation and fear. They knew George Wickham had to be a little crazy; who knew what he would do to them? The van drove for a few minutes and then stopped, and one of the guards got out. Elizabeth, using her stomach muscles, jackknifed into a sitting position and managed to peer out of the window. She snorted with annoyance when she realized that they had stopped at a deli. However, her disgust soon turned to appreciation when the guard returned and untied their hands. He handed them each a large sandwich and a bottle of water.

"Here." Unfortunately, they were not afforded any chance of escape, as the same guard sat in the back with them and ate keeping one eye on them. The sandwich was really good. It was ham, but a little spicy, and so was the cheese-it tasted like cheddar, but it was a little spicier than cheddar. The roll it was on was thick and chewy, and the lettuce was crispy. Curious, she asked,

"What kind of sandwich is this?" The guard looked up.

"Capacola ham and Provolone cheese with lettuce, tomato, mayonnaise, and a little mustard. Why?" Elizabeth shrugged.

"It's really good, and I didn't recognize it." The guard, surprisingly, chuckled.

"Lady, you may be English, but you're in New York City-the deli capital of the world. Anywhere in New York is the best place for deli food. It's because of all the Jews-they have the best taste and making things kosher makes them taste better." Elizabeth was a little puzzled, but ignored it.

"I see. Well, thank you."

"You're welcome."

When they finally started on their way (whatever way that was) again, Elizabeth bent her mind to the task of considering the situation. As far as she could see, it was hopeless. At that point in her thoughts, she was jostled against the side of the van and felt her Lady Colt in her pocket. She almost laughed with relief. Now if only she could get her hands free!

Their guards backs were turned to them. Elizabeth began to strain at her bonds. Her hands, tied in front of her (amateurs, she thought happily) were quite secure-- but the knot they had tied was simple. She raised her wrists to her mouth and began to pull at the ropes with her teeth. She blessed all the time she had spent making jewelry, a task which had often required her to use her teeth to untie a knot. As a result, her mouth knew what to feel for, and in a matter of moments, her hands were free. She picked up a log of firewood, which the back was littered with, and hit the guard in the passenger seat hard on the temple. If it killed him, oh well.

He fell against the window without a sound. The driver, at first confused, soon caught on, and yelled at her, trying to get at his gun while keeping the van on the road. Child's play. She held her gun to his temple, and said,

"Stop the car and put your hands on your head. Don't try anything funny-- I have no conscience when it comes to killing cockroaches." The guard, realizing that she meant business, pulled the van to the side of the road. Elizabeth untied Georgiana and instructed her to get the guard's gun. She did so, and trained it on the guard also, as Elizabeth pulled out the cell phone.

"Rick? It's Elizabeth again. They grabbed us. Can you send a squad out to the Bronx River Parkway please? We're just outside the Bronx, at the side of the road. We've got everything under control." Rick, surprised, agreed, and promised a nearby squad within ten minutes. "Thanks. We can handle it until then."

Elizabeth took the gun from Georgiana and told her to tie the two guards up. "Put their hands behind their backs, and use sailors' knots to secure them. Don't get in my line of fire." To the conscious guard, she said, "I warn you, don't try anything-- my father was an agent, and he has major connections. Besides the fact that you kidnapped us, and it would clearly be self-defense, I almost certainly wouldn't go to court. If it makes it any clearer, Georgiana's cousin has carte-blanche in this affair-- and that covers me. Any questions?" The guard, clearly scared out of his wits, had no questions. "Good."

When Georgiana was done, the girls made themselves comfortable. They didn't have to wait long. A truck pulled up and SWAT team members jumped out.

"Are you ladies all right?" The leader called. Elizabeth waved, and Georgiana jumped out to explain the situation. Four men carried the guards out and untied them, only to clap them into handcuffs.

"He isn't dead," Elizabeth said, motioning to the unconscious guard. "I had to hit him with the wood so he couldn't pull a gun." The SWAT men were all looking very impressed, and demanded a full recount of the story. Georgiana, knowing Elizabeth would downplay it as much as possible, did the honors, making Elizabeth out to be a real hero. Elizabeth blushed at her praise, and repeatedly said that without Georgiana, nothing would have happened, and that it wasn't nearly as dramatic as it sounded.

"Oh, but it was," Georgiana insisted. "I never would have had the nerve to tell him that "I have no conscience when it comes to killing cockroaches" and made it sound so convincing. I wouldn't have had the nerve to escape the first time, either." Elizabeth laughed, and hugged her.

"I guess we make a good team, huh." Georgiana hugged her back.

"Yup-- I'm glad you're marrying my brother."

Some of the SWAT men looked disappointed at this.

Chapter 26

When they finally got to the cafe, Rick, Denny, and Saunderson were there waiting. Their faces lit up when the saw the girls. Rick pulled each of the two women into bear hugs, and Denny and Saunderson clustered around Elizabeth saying how glad they were she was all right and how sorry they were that they hadn't done their job. She laughed and hugged them.

"You weren't to blame. Those circumstances were extraordinary."

Elizabeth could see their exhaustion and called the waiter over, insisting on treating them all to lunch. Or rather, she tried. Rick, Denny, and Saunderson wouldn't hear of it. They hadn't done their job; it was their fault the two girls weren't safe at home, and besides, it was their turn to treat them. The men were pleased to sit down, it was plain, and they all ordered coffee to keep them awake. The lunch was delicious, and most of the food was gone when Rick clapped a hand to his forehead.

"Oh, no! I forgot to call Fred!" Elizabeth started.

"You what? Georgiana, can I have your phone again?" Georgiana handed it over, and Elizabeth dialed Frederic's work number. "Freddie? It's Beth. We're OK; Georgiana and I escaped this morning and Rick, Denny and Saunderson are with us." Frederic was speechless, but that didn't last.

"Beth! Darling, are you hurt? How's Georgiana? How did you escape? Where's Wickham?" Elizabeth laughed.

"One question at a time. I'm fine, Georgiana's fine. We'll explain the escape when we've got you all together. You'd probably like to talk to her, so here she is. You can ask Rick about Wickham after." She passed the phone to Georgiana, and there was a joyful reunion between brother and sister. They talked for ten minutes, and then Georgiana gave the phone to Rick. He said,

"Fred? How's it going? No, the girls did it all. Yes, I'm very proud of them. No, you can't leave yet. We'll swing by on our way home. I have men searching the address the guard gave me. I don't know if he'll still be there, but we'll find him if he is." That was the end of the conversation. Rick promised that they'd be there soon, and Frederic said he'd send a car for them.

When they reached Frederic's office, the five of them burst in, Elizabeth at the head followed closely by Georgiana. Frederic stood and Elizabeth flew to his arms. He bent his head and kissed her the way he'd been meaning to for quite some time. To his delight, and that of all those present, she kissed him back. She nestled in his arms for a minute, then pulled away so Georgiana could hug her brother. Charlotte, who had been hugging Rick, grabbed Elizabeth and hugged her so hard Elizabeth thought her ribs were cracked. They laughed and cried a little, and were generally overjoyed to see everyone. When the greetings were over, they all sat. As everyone was so relieved to see them, uninjured, Georgiana and Elizabeth were wrapped in the blankets and waited-on hand and foot. They quite enjoyed this for a while, but when it was suggested they be carried down to the car, they drew the line. They were perfectly capable of walking, they informed the group. Hadn't they just escaped from kidnappers twice in one day? They could walk. However, the men wouldn't take no for an answer. Frederic carried Elizabeth and Jimmy carried Georgiana; the other three too tired to risk it.

Elizabeth, as she was being whisked away, was pleased to note that Charlotte and Rick were following, arm in arm. She put her arms around Frederic's neck and rested her head on his chest, and fell asleep. Frederic, looking down at her, knew he'd never seen anything more beautiful.

When they arrived at the apartment, Rick ran a test for electronic bugs and found four. Surprised at the number, he ran another test, and found another. He tested three more times before he was satisfied that there were no more. Frederic, meanwhile, had carried Elizabeth into his bedroom and placed her on his bed. Georgiana was asleep in her bed, and he couldn't put her on the couch. He called Rick and Charlotte and told them that they were going to make dinner for the eight of them. Spaghetti. Frederic made three batches of noodles, Charlotte formed meatballs, and Rick, the cooking whiz, made spaghetti sauce-- that he'd bought from the corner market. He endured a lot of teasing over that one, but it was really surprisingly good spaghetti sauce. New York is the place for good Italian and Chinese food. (Those are my favorites, anyway-- I wouldn't recommend trying English food at a New York restaurant-- they've been known to boil roast beef--shudder)

When Elizabeth and Georgiana awoke, they took turns having showers and came out in their pajamas. They were very good friends now; being kidnapped together can do that to people. After dinner, they all sat in the living room. Denny and Saunderson were really amazingly funny, and they inspired the others to new lengths. Elizabeth told one of her favorite jokes.

"OK, OK," she said, to calm people down. "So there was this office that needed a new secretary. And a dog came in to answer the ad. The guy who was interviewing candidates said,

'Umm, we need someone who can type.' The dog jumped up to the computer and typed a perfect letter. 'And one who can write shorthand.' The dog got a pad and pen and wrote out a limerick in shorthand (Don't ask). 'Well, we need someone who is bilingual.' The dog looked at him calmly and said,

'Meow.' " There was a moment of silence, and then everyone erupted into laughter. Georgiana, who was playing with Elizabeth's hair, tugged it and said,

"I don't understand how you do it. That was a really stupid joke, but it was hysterical." Elizabeth laughed and took a mock bow.

"Thank you kindly, sir she said. No, it's easy. You try." Georgiana thought for a moment, and then began to grin.

"A blonde was driving down a highway and listening to the radio. The announcer was making a lot of blonde jokes, and the blonde was getting madder and madder. Then she passed a blonde in a rowboat in the middle of a cornfield. She got out of her car and went to the edge of the field and yelled,

'It's blondes like you that give the rest of us a bad name! And if I knew how to swim, I'd come out there and give you what's coming to you!" She paused and there was silence for a minute. Then the room erupted again.

Elizabeth, wiping tears from her eyes, said,

"There. That was marvelous, and it wasn't hard, was it?" Georgiana shook her head, and the night ended with laughter.

Chapter 27

Much to everyone's relief, George Wickham was apprehended and was made to explain in a court of law, why he had abducted Georgiana Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet. Needless to say, his explanation did not fall on sympathetic ears. The jury pronounced him guilty and he was given life; review for parole in forty years. Owch. This being his second misdemeanor, it didn't seem likely; and Frederic was there to make sure Wickham never had an opportunity to hurt his family again.

The fake Mac was not seen again.

Elizabeth, despite her desire to go back to England with Frederic and Georgiana, had to go to Columbia. She sighed, and cried as she saw them off at the airport. Rick had requested permanent operations in the New York area, because he and Charlotte were getting married. Charlotte, Rick, and Elizabeth were going to fly back to England at Christmas for their wedding. Elizabeth was to be Charlotte's maid of honor. Frederic had asked Elizabeth to stay at the apartment for the week she had left before her classes started, and she had agreed, thanking him. She and her roommate, a girl named Anne Elliot, became good friends, as Elizabeth was stopping by the campus often to learn her way about. Elizabeth didn't want to matchmake (yeah, right) but she could tell that Anne and their neighbor, Frederick Wentworth, really liked each other. But they seemed to have a history. They were both seniors, like Elizabeth, but they avoided each other even while they stared at each other hungrily when the other wasn't looking. Elizabeth was determined to do something about it.

On her day in the apartment, she came in tired at three o'clock and sprawled on her bed to sleep. (She slept in Frederic's room-- it made her want to cry, but she couldn't help it.) When she woke, it was seven, and she got to her feet wondering at the candle that flickered on the dresser. She pinched herself, wondering what kind of a dream this was. But it wasn't a dream. A budding hope rose in her, forcing her heart into her throat. She could feel it beating faster. Was it . . .

She padded down the stairs after blowing the candle out, following the light into the kitchen where there was another candle and . . . yes, a note! Her heart pounding so hard it felt like it was jumping out of her chest, she picked it up and read-- linen closet. She laughed joyfully and ran to the linen closet. There was another note and a gold pen. Without reading the note, she ran to the hall closet, where she found a piece of paper with YES and YES boxes. Laughing harder at his cockiness, she grabbed the note next to it and raced for the living room. Skidding to a halt, she stared at the man who sat on the couch, a look on his face that was both hopeful and tender. She stood still watching him as he came to her and seated her in a chair and then knelt before her. She could see his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed convulsively, and smiled softly at him, her eyes shining. He smiled back shyly, and then said,

"Elizabeth Ariel Bennet, I love you more than anything on this earth. I want you to be the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing at night. I want to spend the rest of my life hearing what you'll say next. I want your children to be my children. I want to grow old with you and see our grandchildren. Will you marry me?" She had started to cry as she looked down at him, and he stood quickly and gathered her in his arms, sitting down with her on his lap. He held her close and hushed her tears. "Darling, if you don't want to, say so. First and foremost, always, I want your happiness. I just would like that happiness to depend in a small part on me." Elizabeth was grinning through her tears and said, as she faced him,

"Oh, it depends on you a great deal more than that!" as she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him. He was surprised at first, but he certainly had no objections, and kissed her back. They stayed holding each other for a while yet. Finally, Elizabeth pulled away a little and laughed at him. "What will you tell your friends now? Rick, especially! The one who would have said, 'How about it?'

Frederic laughed.

"That reminds me. How did he propose?" Elizabeth laughed.

"Oh, it's a very funny story. Apparently, he proposed on Dutch Courage." Frederic stared at her.

"He was drunk?"

"Oh, just a little. But Charlotte says that it was a good thing, because otherwise he never would have gotten around to asking her!" They laughed. "Oh, and when he did, it was very romantic. He kissed her, told her he loved her, asked her to marry him, and then had to bolt for the bathroom." Frederic was roaring.

"Rick?! He's never had any trouble holding his liquor. He can drink almost everyone under the table."

"You, too?"

"No, I had too much practice in college. I'm the only one who can beat him."

"Really," Elizabeth said with a sly grin. "Well, I'm pretty good at it myself. We'll see. Anyway, Charlotte says that it was nerves that made him vomit, because he's never even thrown up with a hangover." But Frederic was bored with his cousin's affairs, and got back to kissing his fiancee, a project in which she was an enthusiastic participant.

Chapter 28

Luckily, they were in time to stick with the original wedding arrangements. Jane and Mrs. Bennet had always known that Frederic and Elizabeth would get together sooner or later, and everyone's money was on sooner. Everyone lucked out.

Elizabeth enjoyed her time at Columbia; she was there until the spring (April, to be precise) and left just after she was informed by a very, very happy couple (Anne Elliot and Frederick Wentworth) that they too were getting married. Elizabeth, again, was asked to be maid of honor; she agreed, feeling that as she had been the one to vacate their rooms (to visit Freddie, but still . . .) and to insist that Frederick W. sit with them at times, she had to be maid of honor. But unless they hurried, she would have to be matron . . .

Frederic (Darcy) very much enjoyed being engaged. He was sure marriage would be even better, but engagement, besides the delights of being able to kiss Elizabeth whenever he felt like it, made it necessary for Caroline Bingley to keep her distance. Or rather, Elizabeth made it necessary for Caroline to keep her distance. Elizabeth, not wanting to cause family brawls, always made it very clear that she knew what Caroline was up to, and that Caroline had better stand aside or Caroline would regret it, without being rude or undiplomatic. There was nothing in her manner that Caroline could complain about (without being laughed at). Good job, Elizabeth!

Frederic stayed in New York, in his apartment until Elizabeth finished her quarter at Columbia; something she was pleased about. When it was over, there was Easter break and Elizabeth packed up with Frederic and flew back home.

She got a joyous welcome from everyone except Caroline (what a surprise) and was pulled headlong into wedding plans. All in all, it was a good thing that she had to go back to school after two weeks; Frederic would never have gotten his affairs into order quickly enough. Charlotte and Rick's wedding was in June. Frederic was best man and Elizabeth was maid of honor (but not for long!) and everyone kissed and cried and said what a beautiful wedding it had been. The bride and groom didn't stay long at the party; just long enough to have lunch and thank Elizabeth for insisting that Rick move in with Charlotte.

The Frederic-Elizabeth/Charles-Jane wedding was to be in early July. Elizabeth just had time to get herself together after graduation and to pack her things for removal to her husband's house and for their honeymoon in France. New York was suggested, but for some reason the bridal couple didn't seem too keen on that idea. (I wonder why?)

The ceremony was beautiful; the brides looked ethereal, the grooms suitably smitten. It was said later that there had never been a wedding so full of laughter, tears, and smoldering looks. It was pronounced, and was probably true, that these two couples had clearly been made for each other. And when the brides and grooms left almost indecently soon after the service, it was remarked indulgently that they were very much in love; a fact that the couples certainly did not dispute.

THE END

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