At Your Service, Chapter 1

Posted By: Genette <genette-JA-triad.rr.com>
Date: Wednesday, 15 March 2006, at 9:04 a.m.

At Your Service

Tentative Blurb: Bad things happen to Elizabeth and Darcy. Told from Darcy's point of view, there is: typhoid, death, a carriage accident, leering & threatening gypsies, lots of making out, abduction & attempted rape, Wickham getting pistol-whipped & shot, a murder, a fire and amnesia. But it all ends happily.

Typical Blurb: When typhoid forces Elizabeth and Darcy to leave Rosings together just after he's given her his letter, they both learn what it really is to love. That love is fiercely challenged again and again.

DNA- Pick one, dear archiver! ;) RA

At Your Service, Chapter 1

After handing Elizabeth the letter I'd written I walked across Rosings Park for a seemingly endless interval. The weather was painfully beautiful, though I did see clouds in the distant north, where I would later travel. I could not help but think on her expression as she'd reluctantly accepted the missive. Such a communication was highly irregular and perhaps further proof to her of my bad character, yet I'd felt driven to defend of myself, at least as concerns George Wickham. Again the perversity of fate in putting him in my way, and in a position to poison the woman I loved against me, struck me. Another uneasy thought occurred that perhaps I was to blame that society yet took pleasure in his company. But the only possible remedy to that situation involved exposing the other person in the world dearest to me and I set it from my mind. I was so distracted that I walked too close to a low tree limb and bumped my head rather hard. The dull pain did nothing to improve my mood.

I slowed my pace as I neared the parsonage. I would take my leave of the Collins and Mrs. Collins' sister quickly, in an attempt to leave the abode before Elizabeth returned from her walk. The last thing I wished was to see her looking at me with awkwardness and dislike again. Though I yet desired her good opinion I knew it was not to be mine. I knocked upon the door. A serving maid answered and told me that Mr. Collins was in his gardens but that the ladies had not yet returned from an early call to Rosings, though they'd long been expected. I was puzzled that they were not in, but made my way to the gardens that I might quickly discharge my duty to my aunt's clergyman.

Mr. Collins wore a work apron and hummed, in a wandering and unappealing fashion, to himself as he trimmed hedges. As ever, his brow was beaded with sweat. I wondered if he was in good health. I had never seen him not perspiring and I did not think the perspiration was caused primarily by exertion. I rather thought him a nervous and silly creature, not unlike his cousin's wife, Mrs. Bennet. I puzzled for a moment as I considered which one of the two I thought more intelligent and capable. I finally dismissed this notion as inconsequential and beneath me; and besides which it was a bit annoying.

I bore the little man's obsequious nonsense as best I could for a full ten minutes. Finally, growing concerned that Elizabeth might return, I took my leave and began again toward the great house. Raised voices could be heard in the distance. The noise grew as I came closer to Rosings. Leaving the cover of the trees I saw my cousin's physician, Dr. Grey, standing on the steps to the front door. He looked somber as he took instruction from my aunt, who to my astonishment was leaning out a window to speak with him. She caught sight of me then and called, “Darcy! There you are! Where have you been? We are all in a desperate way, Nephew!”

Accustomed to odd behavior from my aunt as I was, the fact that she was yelling from the window of her house held me speechless for a moment. Finally the doctor approached me and said firmly, “Sir. There is typhoid. I have placed a quarantine on the house. No one may leave or enter, if you please.”

I stared at him, shocked. Finally I asked, “Is it my cousin, Anne?”

He nodded and said, “It is. She has exerted herself more than her mother knew, trying to do what she could for some of the tenants, as she told me she'd mentioned to you. We've lost two families to it already. Have you ever been exposed?”

I shook my head and asked, “Will she recover?”

Dr. Grey frowned and said, “I will do everything in my power, Mr. Darcy. I cannot offer any promises.” His doubtful expression spoke volumes to me.

I nodded my comprehension and asked, “What may I do?”

He replied, “You must go, Sir.”

I nodded again and said, “I was preparing to depart today.”

He suggested, “Please leave now, Mr. Darcy.”

Lady Catherine yelled, “Are you coming inside or not, Nephew?!”

Dr. Grey replied, “Lady Catherine, I am sorry to say that your nephew may not enter the house, for his safety. I urge him to leave immediately.” He turned to me again and said, “Your driver and two footmen are able to go with you. Your other servants were in the house when I declared the quarantine.” He added as an afterthought, “And I fear that your cousin who has traveled here with you may not leave either.”

I felt dismay as I guessed how he would answer to my next question, “May I retrieve my belongings?”

He shook his head and said, “I fear not. You may not safely enter the house. I advise you to leave at once.”

Lady Catherine yelled, “Nephew! You must inform Mr. Collins that his wife and her sister were here when the quarantine was imposed. They must remain.” I nodded. She continued, “But Miss Elizabeth Bennet is not with them. She must be found and returned to Hertfordshire at once.”

I turned to look at the doctor. He shrugged to indicate that he did not understand her meaning. She glared at the doctor as I turned a puzzled gaze her way. She hissed, “It is not seemly for her to remain at the parsonage with only Mr. Collins. His interest in her once was of a romantic nature. Most odd that she refused him, but it is the truth and I will not have a scandal. If she cannot come here, she must go home at once!” The doctor gave a short laugh and shook his head.

I stared at my aunt, uncertain that I'd heard her correctly, yet coloring with embarrassment from head to toe as I understood her meaning. I was not the first man Elizabeth had refused. I was in company with none other than Mr. Collins! A fresh dose of humiliation kept me silent as my aunt continued her diatribe on the subject. Finally the reality of the situation came over me. The doctor was not the only person to hear my aunt's words. Others, both inside and out of the house could hear her. The damage was done. Elizabeth must be removed and I must be the one to remove her. I nodded to the doctor, spoke to the servants that would accompany me and prepared to return to the parsonage.

Moments later my carriage arrived at the Hunsford Parsonage. I looked at the dwelling, thinking how little I liked to return. Grimly, I exited the carriage. Mr. Collins had run from his gardens again. He looked back to the house with evident surprise that no one else came to greet me. I informed him, “Mr. Collins, I am sorry to be the bearer of ill tidings, but Rosings has been closed in quarantine. My cousin, Miss de Bourgh, has contracted the typhoid and all who were in the premises when the doctor made the diagnosis must remain therein. Mrs. Collins and Miss Lucas were among those in the house when the quarantine was set in place.” I looked at him with pity as he looked sincerely horror stricken.

His next words dulled the sensation of pity. “Miss de Bourgh with typhoid! There must be some error! It cannot be. Oh, please tell me that Lady Catherine was not there to hear of it and be so inconvenienced as to suffer a quarantine!”

I endeavored not to roll my eyes as I pointedly said, “Your wife and sister were there.”

He nodded and said, “Oh, I hope that they can be of comfort and help!” He expressed no concern for them! I struggled not to roll my eyes as I considered the imbalance of the man's priorities.

I added dryly, “And, yes, Lady Catherine was present when her daughter's physician was called in to visit. So, she is to remain in the house until further notice.”

He trembled all over as he bewailed the inconvenience all this must be to my aunt. I allowed him to go on for as long as I could stand it before offering in a withering tone, “More than any inconvenience to her ladyship one ought to be concerned with the threat to my cousin's well being, sir.” I meant to admonish him and express anger, but suddenly I felt a great sadness well up within me at the thought that my poor cousin was likely to perish. I remembered times when we'd evaded her mother's tyranny enough to play together. I remembered her laugh, so rarely heard.

At that moment I saw Elizabeth. She was standing in the front hallway of the parsonage and had opened the door. I bowed to her. Mr. Collins noted this and turned, “Oh! Cousin Elizabeth! Have you heard the dreadful news? Typhoid has quarantined those in the great house of Rosings!”

Elizabeth nodded and asked quietly, “How did the doctor say Miss de Bourgh fares, Mr. Darcy?” I saw an oddly unfamiliar expression on her face.

Recalling the doctor's air when I'd asked, I hesitated, and then said, “We can only pray for her, I fear.” I then recognized the pity she felt. I looked away from her.

Mr. Collins said, “Perhaps you might be of some help to them, Cousin. You should go to the great house and offer your services to her Ladyship at once!”

I interjected angrily, “Mr. Collins! Do you even consider the health of your cousin?”

Elizabeth smiled slightly and said to her cousin, “Mr. Collins, I wish that I could offer assistance, but I have never had the typhoid nor been exposed to it. Please forgive me for not being able therefore to aide her ladyship.”

Mr. Collins began to pace back and forth, muttering to himself. Unable to resist the provocation I asked, “Have you been exposed to the typhoid, Mr. Collins? Perhaps you could offer assistance.”

He shook his head vehemently, looking pale and perspiring even more than before. Again he turned to his cousin, “Could you not go to the house? You are so capable. I am sure that you could be of help.”

Elizabeth allowed a bit of her annoyance to show in her face and voice as she responded, “Do not suppose I would not like to be of assistance, Mr. Collins, but also do not suppose that I should like to be exposed to the typhoid. We can only hope that Lady Catherine will find it in her generous heart to forgive me.”

Mr. Collins looked saddened at this but allowed, “Then I suppose you may remain here.”

Heart thumping, I took the opening. “Actually Lady Catherine has specified that Miss Bennet ought to remove to the safety of her home in Hertfordshire at once.” Elizabeth turned quickly towards me as she stared and then shook her head.

Mr. Collins began to fairly rant and rave over the generosity of my aunt in giving thought to his cousin during such a time of suffering.

I saw that Elizabeth looked now at the carriage behind me, waiting. A fleeting look of anxiety crossed her face. She said with assumed calm, “While I very much appreciate her Ladyship's concern there can be no cause for such haste. I am planning to travel north to Hertfordshire, hopefully with Miss Lucas, in two weeks' time. My uncle is to send a man servant to assist us and we are to break our journey in London.”

I swallowed hard and carefully offered, “Lady Catherine has expressed concern that it might appear unseemly for you to remain here alone with Mr. Collins. She cares for your reputation and as I am traveling to London today she has asked that I offer you passage to Hertfordshire. But if you have family in London that you planned to visit, I could take you to them instead.” I looked down at the ground, not eager to see the expression of disgust that must surely be on Miss Elizabeth's face as she considered the notion of being close to me for any amount of time.

In a slight voice, she asked, “How could it be unseemly for me to remain here with my cousin? There are servants. We are not alone.”

I said, “You would of course need to see that one of your maids attend Miss Bennet on her journey to London, Mr. Collins. If we are traveling to protect reputation, we must certainly see to such details, as I am sure my aunt would insist.” Mr. Collins bowed and agreed, continuing to extol my aunt's virtues. I could Elizabeth growing angry that I'd ignored her plea. I very quietly said, “Miss Elizabeth I am sorry, but my aunt has rather loudly and publicly expressed her concerns. The doctor and servants overheard. If you remained here now there would undoubtedly be talk. Please allow me the honor of returning you to your family, either in London or in Hertfordshire.” I caught her eye then and saw vexation, but also continued confusion and resistance. Finally I surrendered to the inevitable. I choked out, “My aunt has unfortunately shared private details of your cousin's previous inclination for you. With that spoken of publicly you must see that it would be in your best interest to leave the parsonage.”

Elizabeth turned her astonished gaze to Mr. Collins. She finally asked, “Why in the world would you share such private information with Lady Catherine, Mr. Collins?”

Mr. Collins puffed up as he replied, “I had told my patroness of my planned generosity to my cousins. While the best wife a man could want, my dear Charlotte is not one of my fair cousins. Her ladyship asked what had become of my original plans. I shared with her that the eldest Miss Bennet had expected to enter into an engagement already and that the next Miss Bennet was so ungrateful… well chose not to accept my generous offer.”

At this moment I wished nothing more than to be invisible. Elizabeth's eyes flashed with anger and embarrassment. I was mortified. Finally, I choked out, “May I await you in the carriage while you pack your belongings and find a maid to accompany you?”

Mr. Collins whirled to me, saying, “No, sir! You must wait inside where I can offer you refreshment and hospitality befitting a man of your station.”

I bowed more deeply than the man merited and said, “I thank you for your kind offer, but on second thought I would prefer to walk the grounds while I wait. Though it grows chill as the sun goes behind the clouds I would find such activity refreshing. We will be closed up in the carriage for far too long.” I glanced at Elizabeth again and saw her looking at me resignedly. She curtsied and said, “I thank you, Mr. Darcy. I will prepare quickly.”

to be continued...

Chapter 2

I walked the next half hour in the park. I was already weary from a sleepless night and my morning walk, but further exertion was preferable to being shut in a small space with Mr. Collins, newly known to me as my compatriot in the ridiculous. And my feelings were unsettled and not entirely in my control. I shuddered to think of Elizabeth shackled in matrimony to such a man, paying obeisance on my aunt for all her days. Then I bitterly wondered which of her failed proposals (and which of her suitors!) Elizabeth looked on with more contempt. The prospect was mortifying. I mastered a flash of anger and carefully calming my feelings so that this enforced togetherness could be born. Finally I spied Elizabeth leaving the parsonage. I walked quickly back to the carriage and watched as my men secured her trunk to the top of the carriage. I offered her my hand, noted her hesitant acceptance without allowing any visible reaction of my own, and helped her inside. A middle aged maid sat by her. I took my place across from them.

I asked, “Are we for London or Hertfordshire, Miss Bennet?”

Elizabeth said, “Unfortunately my aunt and uncle are not in London yet this week, Mr. Darcy. As I said, they were expecting me in two weeks' time, not so soon.” She did not look at me as she spoke. Her discomfort was fairly palpable. I saw the maid look at each of us with interest.

I affected nonchalance as I replied, “We will gladly escort you to Hertfordshire then. It is no trouble. I am glad to be able to serve you.” For some reason I colored as I said this last.

She looked at me oddly as she replied, “I thank you, sir.”

From then we traveled in silence. We broke our journey at an inn and took some refreshment. While inside I heard the innkeeper cautioning my men about gypsies encamped along the road we were about to pass in the next fifteen miles or so. Elizabeth and the maid were resting inside. I returned to the carriage and primed the pistol I keep under the seat and placed it in the pocket of my great coat. My driver asked if we might prefer to secure rooms at the inn rather than continuing our journey, but in my impatience to be done with this enforced togetherness I demurred. I saw Elizabeth nod her agreement and look thankful. I looked away then, not wanting to dwell on her desire to be away from me or my own conflicted feelings in the matter.

After we'd been underway again for some time I broke the silence and apologized to Elizabeth that I'd not heeded the driver's advice. Heavy drops of rain had started to fall. Elizabeth smiled slightly and said, “Perhaps you would do better to apologize to your footmen and driver who must travel outside the carriage.” I nodded agreement as I gazed steadily at her and then I looked away. It struck me once again that she was a kind person, ever thinking of others and their well being- and she thought me the opposite, unfeeling and selfish.

Outside the window I caught sight of a man looking at us in such a way that I reached to my pocket and sought the comfort of the pistol therein. As the rain fell more heavily our progress slowed. One of the footmen leaned in and spoke, letting us know that the next town was but ten miles ahead and that we were more than ten miles past the previous inn, so we would continue going forward. I saw another raggedly-dressed man alongside the road.

We came to a fallen log. The footmen left their posts to remove it from our path. I heard the maid gasp as a small group of gypsies moved towards us from the wood. Elizabeth only pulled her cloak about herself more tightly. I urged the ladies to remain calm. My own breathing came a bit faster, though, I confess. There were at least a dozen gypsies outside the carriage now. One man stared at Elizabeth in an overly familiar way, fairly leering. I pulled the pistol from my pocket. I saw her eyes drop to it, but from then my attention was fully on the people who menaced us from without. A woman yelled for pity, for money. The leering man laughed and said, “Or something better!” He continued to look at Elizabeth as he licked his lips and began to move a hand towards the window of the carriage. I leveled the pistol so that the gypsies could see it. I took aim at the man who eyed Elizabeth so lasciviously. Fortunately, my footmen had the tree out of the path and returned, pushing past the threatening crowd. We were able to go on.

As we did so, the maid began to cry. I returned the pistol to my pocket and breathed a sigh of relief that worse had not occurred. Elizabeth spoke in a tremulous tone, “Thank you for your protection, sir.”

I looked at her intently and said, “No thanks are necessary, Miss Elizabeth. I am at your service. You will be kept safe.” A new sensation was building within me as I considered the depth of the meaning of my words and my resolve to keep them true.

I saw her nod slowly as a blush crept into her cheeks. She looked out as the rain began to fall even more heavily and said, “Perhaps I am the one who ought to apologize to your men. Had I urged it we might have remained at the last inn.”

I shrugged. I saw her glance at me and then blush as she looked away. We both knew in that instant that I would of course do anything she asked. It was a strange feeling to me. I had always had others in service to me. Only with Georgiana was I the protector, but that was more of a paternal feeling than that which I bore for Elizabeth. The way the gypsy man leered at her not only made my blood run cold but also reminded me of the way she tempted me. I saw then that when I'd made my addresses to her the previous evening I'd spoken to her with as much disrespect as that man had shown her today, perhaps more. I'd spoken from selfish passion, not from a desire to serve her. Now that she was lost to me I finally knew what it was to truly love her. I closed my eyes against the miserable realization and pretended to rest. In my mind's eye I saw all I'd dreamt of with her, passion and lively companionship, warmth and peace.

Because I no longer watched Elizabeth I gradually became more aware of our surroundings. I heard the rain falling ever harder and felt the struggle of the carriage wheels. I could hear the roaring of the river we rode by. I felt us slip several times. I began to wonder at the wisdom of continuing forward. Yet I had no desire to go back past the gypsy encampment where such tangible danger existed for Elizabeth. When the footman peered in again to ask my preference I reluctantly advised that we continue on. He nodded his understanding and grimly returned to his post. I watched our progress more carefully, growing more concerned with each passing moment. I saw that the maid cried silently and that Elizabeth was pale with fright. I wished it were my right to offer her comfort, to hold her in my embrace. Her fingers tightly gripped her cloak.

There was no question of rights or propriety in the next instant however. I felt the loss of control almost as it happened. The carriage began to careen down an embankment towards the river. The maid screamed piteously. I threw myself across the carriage and pulled Elizabeth tightly against me, wrapping my arms about her. I was thrown painfully against the window, bruising my back and thighs, and realized with horror that the maid was gone, had fallen out the window. Had I been any smaller I also would have been thrown out by the jostling we endured. I clung more tightly to Elizabeth, cradling her against me. The sensation of falling was sickening. The entire carriage was on its side now and sliding downwards quickly.

Chapter 3

I yelled as we hit the water. With my back against the window I felt it immediately, cold and grasping. I struggled to stand and pulled Elizabeth to her feet next to me. I was forced to stoop as I struggled with the door mechanism above me. Finally I managed it and threw the door open. I pulled myself out on to the side of the overturned carriage. We were near the edge of the river, but being quickly pulled out further. I reached down and called to Elizabeth, “Take my hand! Help me to pull you up!” She complied without question. Once were both outside the carriage I looked around. The wind cut through us and the rain drove down harder than ever. I saw my driver laying dead on the riverbank, his neck obviously broken. I could see one of the footmen, unconscious, being washed away from us in the rapids of the river, far from my reach. Of the other footman and the maid there was no sign. The carriage shifted, being pulled into the current. I said, “We must get to shore.” She nodded in mute terror. Carefully, I crouched down. The carriage rocked beneath us. I leapt down next to it, between the carriage and the river bank and carefully planted my legs in the rushing, freezing water. I reached up and took Elizabeth's hand in mine. I said, “I'll catch you. Come to me.” She held my hand tightly and shifted to move to me. Suddenly the carriage jerked away, into the current. I heard her scream and I pulled hard on her hand so that she fell onto me. I grasped her tightly and lifted her into my arms and struggled out of the water. Once we were on the riverbank I set her down carefully. She had lost her cloak during the struggle.

I started to remove my great coat to offer her, but she shook her head in dissent. “There is no sense in us both being soaked through, Mr. Darcy!” I was deeply distressed to think that circumstances had left me more comfortable than she was. I was only soaked from just above the knees down. She was uncomfortably wet from head to toe now.

I urged, “Let us make for the relative shelter of the wood. Hopefully this downpour will not last much longer.” We saw lightning and heard thunder crash. I again took her hand and led her to the woods. I saw a pained expression on her face as I led her and supposed that my touch was distasteful to her. I released her hand as we reached the wood. Under the cover of the trees we only suffered light misting. I saw her impatiently push at her hair. It had come loose. She quickly worked the wet strands into a braid. In the dappled and dim light I could see that her wet clothes were all but transparent over her as they melded to her form. I closed my eyes and turned from the beautiful sight.

At that moment I saw a sight that made my blood run cold. An old mare arrived with two of the gypsy men on her back. They dismounted and looked out at the wreck of the carriage as it washed away. I could not hear what they said, but I moved further back into the shelter of the woods. I made certain that Elizabeth was behind me, safely sheltered from sight and I checked my pocket for the pistol. It was still there. I felt the fabric around it to see if it was wet and determine whether the pistol might still do us some good. To my relief, the fabric inside was dry. My breathing became more controlled as I concentrated on the matter at hand. As I took another step back I felt her trembling behind me. She held to my left arm as though she sought comfort. I tried not to become distracted. The rain began to slow. The two gypsy men remounted the horse and rode away. I doubted not that they would return, eager to salvage what they might from the wreckage. I turned to Elizabeth and asked, “Are you well? We should leave this area.”

She nodded and said, “I am well, only a bit cold. I agree that we would be wise to leave before they return to scavenge from our loss.” Her voice shook and I did not think this was due entirely to the cold.

Furtively we reached the edge of the road where we could walk more easily. We set a quick pace and continued towards the next town. I estimated we had about eight miles to walk before we would reach safety. I saw Elizabeth trip over a tree root and reached out a steadying hand. I apologized, “Please forgive my familiarity, Miss Elizabeth. I only wish to keep you from harm.”

She said, “Oh! You are forgiven, Mr. Darcy. And I thank you for helping me escape the carriage. If it had not been for your assistance during the wreck itself I would likely have been killed. I do not think this an exaggeration. I thank you for preserving my life.”

She looked so sincerely friendly that it brought a lump to my throat. I blinked quickly as I said, “I am only glad to be of service.” I saw her smile slightly at this and nod. She looked very pensive. We walked on in silence for the next hour. The storm passed. Our silence was broken by the sound of an approaching horse. Fearing that it might be the gypsies, we took to the woods. We each hid behind a tree and I made certain to have a good view of the road in case the rider might turn out to be someone friendly.

Our fears were proved reasonable when the old mare and her two riders again appeared. The younger man said, “How much further should we look? You can't be certain she wasn't washed away down the river, you know.” I realized that I'd left the door from which we'd escaped open. It would be apparent that at least one occupant had exited. I cursed my lack of prescience.

The man who'd earlier looked so lasciviously at Elizabeth replied, “Oh, that pretty pretty had some spark to her. She's not the kind to go easily. And she had a rosy look, like a gal who knows something of taking the air, not one who keeps to the hoity-toity drawin' room. With a chit like that in your bed you'd be a happy man!”

I avoided Elizabeth's gaze. The ruffian had, in his own harsh way, expressed a sentiment I'd considered far more than I ought. I prayed we would stay hidden from view, for I did not relish the idea of taking a human life. Yet I knew I would do so before I would let Elizabeth come to harm.

The younger man speculated, “I wonder if she's wife to that rich fellow?”

The elder laughed, “Oh! She's his all right. Did you see the look o' death he had at any that even dared look at her?” I felt myself go crimson and continued to avoid Elizabeth's gaze.

And they rode on in the direction we needed to go. I looked around for a comfortable place for Elizabeth to sit. Finally spying a tree that had fallen sideways I motioned to it and we both sat. I suggested, “Perhaps now is a good time to rest for a bit.”

After several moments of silence, Elizabeth asked, “How long do you think it will be before they go past us again?”

I shrugged as if it were immaterial rather than the quandary that kept us from continuing on the road to safety. I only said, “Do not fear, Miss Elizabeth.” I watched the road and listened carefully for their return. I only turned back to her several moments later, puzzled, when I heard the rustle of paper. I saw that she held the letter I had given her earlier. She shyly regarded me as she saw that I recognized it.

She said, “I'm glad that it was not ruined.” I did not reply, only watched as she returned it to her pocket and said, “Thank you for trusting me enough to help me better understand Mr. Wickham's evil tendencies... and your good character.” She swallowed hard, “My perceptions have proven sorely lacking. I am sorry that I was so blind to the truth. I thought myself so intelligent and such a good judge of character! Yet I never knew myself until I read your explanations.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, fatigued. Finally I opened them again and said, “I am glad that you see the truth of Wickham. I felt called upon to defend my actions there, especially as I knew he'd imposed on you. You are so kind and good that it is not to be wondered that you should trust him, yet I am glad to have been of service in opening your eyes to his true nature.” I felt very vulnerable about this topic of conversation. My earlier anger with her was gone. It now turned toward Wickham and most of all to me.

She chuckled and shook her head. I looked at her, puzzled again. She said, “The good folk of Meryton would hardly recognize you today, Mr. Darcy.” I looked down at my clothing, wondering if she referred to my appearance. She chuckled again and said, “No, sir. While you are reasonably disheveled from our current situation I do not refer to your appearance.” She blushed and I sought to understand what seemed to be a compliment of sorts. I noticed then that she still shivered. Her clothing was beginning to dry now that the rain had stopped. She brushed leaves and dirt from her skin. I stood and took off my great coat and then my jacket and handed it to her. She hesitated, wide eyed and staring at me with an expression I'd not seen on her face before.

I explained, “Your earlier objection was that it would not do for us to both get soaked. The rain has stopped now. I will not become any wetter. But you need to warm yourself. Please take it.” Finally she did. I eased my great coat on over my shirt. The ends were still wet, but the upper section was warm. She stood and put her arms through the sleeves of my jacket. They dangled and she wrapped them around her self. I noticed as she did this that she favored one arm, the one by which I'd pulled her down from the carriage as it was carried away by the current. I could see that she was already gaining warmth from the garment and I nodded, happy for her increased comfort. She impatiently pulled at her wet braid of hair so that it fell outside the jacket.

At that moment I heard a horse approaching again, rather slowly. I reached into the pocket of my coat to remove the gun. She stared up at me as I stood there. I eased away from her. She sat and then I did as well, hoping we would both be hidden from sight of those on the road.

Instead of the two men we'd seen earlier, we saw another group of gypsies. Their horse pulled a small wagon and several rode while three of them walked alongside. They had retrieved Elizabeth's trunk and one of the men wore the coat that had belonged to my driver. I heard Elizabeth gasp slightly at the sight. It sickened me that they would take the clothing from a man who'd tragically perished only moments before. My thoughts turned to his family. I tried to remember how many children he had.

I also worried at the dangers all of these people presented. Before I'd thought simply to wait until the two men on the horse gave up and rode back past us. Now, we would have to worry about being discovered by these people. I still determined that we would wait in the relative safety of the woods until after the two men passed us by. The one man's interest in Elizabeth particularly worried me. So we waited. I saw that Elizabeth was tired, at least as fatigued as I felt. After she jerked awake as she nearly fell from her seat for a second time I urged her to lean against me and rest. She was too tired to protest, I could see. I moved to a spot on the log where I could also lean against a small tree. Then I held out my hand and whispered, “Please allow me to give you enough comfort that you may rest while we wait. We will be better able to travel if you are not so tired.” Hesitantly she took my hand and sat next to me. She turned so that her back was against my arm and shoulder and leaned against me. In a few moments her chin again fell to her chest. I eased her gently down so that she lay across my chest and against my other arm, cradling her to me and giving her my warmth. In sleep, she turned toward me rather than away. Were it not for fear of discovery it would have been an idyllic time. Even so, I savored the sensation of her nearness. My eyes caressed her cheeks, her lips, her body. She embodied sweetness, purity and desire to me.

to be continued...

Chapter 4

Judging from the light I guessed nearly two hours passed before I again heard a horse approaching. I prepared to cover Elizabeth's mouth lest she awaken and make any noise that might give us away. Happily the noise I heard was that of the two gypsies who most worried me and they passed on their way, I presumed, back to their encampment. I craned my neck to see that they were gone. When I looked back to Elizabeth her eyes were open. She looked up at me, warily I supposed, as otherwise I might delude myself into thinking she looked at me as if she were happy in my arms. Without saying anything, I helped her sit up and then to her feet. She studied me for a long moment and then finally asked, “Was that those gypsy men? Are they gone?” I nodded and stretched my cramped muscles. She looked concerned, “Were you very uncomfortable? I did not think. I was so tired! I thank you.”

I shook my head and said, “Not at all. I am glad I could help you rest; glad I could be of service. As I said earlier, it will help our progress.” I did not feel so assured of my own fitness as I pretended in that moment, but I did not wish to worry her. There was tender concern in her look to me.

She confessed quietly, “I did not sleep very well last night.”

I nodded my understanding, not trusting myself to voice a response.

She queried, “Did you sleep well?” Not wishing to lie, but not wanting to give her concern, I looked down and avoided her gaze.

Finally I smiled slightly to her and owned, “I shall sleep very well once we have reached safety.” She looked at me with a rueful smile and nodded understandingly.

We carefully made our way back to the road and began to walk again. I noticed that she kept my jacket firmly closed about her. I hoped it kept her warm. I wondered if the transparency of her clothing had caused her to feel self conscious or embarrassed. I hoped that she'd not noticed my attention to it and that she did not censure me for my fascination with her. I kept the pistol tucked in my hand inside the pocket of my great coat. I noticed that my trousers were almost dry again. They had been soaked when I'd jumped into the river. I idly brushed dirt off of my clothing with my free hand.

I heard Elizabeth chuckle. I glanced at her and she offered, “I fear that is a lost cause, Mr. Darcy. We neither of us are at all presentable at this point.”

I smiled grimly and said, “Yes. For a journey that began with the intention of bowing to my aunt's whims and protecting appearances, I fear things have only gone from bad to worse.”

Her smile faded and she looked straight ahead as she nodded and said slowly, “Yes. I believe that you are correct. The sun is low in the sky. I do not think we will reach the next village soon enough. I fear we will be forced to remain together alone this night.”

My heart pounded forcefully as I considered the implications of her words. Far from protecting her reputation, I would be her ruin. Regardless of good intentions we were alone. In fact the barriers of polite society had already begun to break down between us. She had allowed me to hold her in my arms as she slept. I had held her close to my body in the carriage and afterwards. I had held her hand and touched her arm in a familiar way. Even before these transgressions my looks had confused onlookers to believe we were man and wife. Would I want for a woman I intended to take to wife to experience such familiarity from another man? Were my actions selfish? Was I trying to force her to accept me?

Reviewing the past hours I could not deny I had enjoyed being close to Elizabeth, touching Elizabeth. Indeed I had been tempted to kiss her as I'd held her sleeping form. But I had not set out to force her hand. I felt anger rise in me as I wondered if she accused me of such. My voice full of feeling, I said, “I hope you can believe that I would not wish for you to feel obliged to accept me.”

She stopped and looked at me intently, “Mr. Darcy, you have been a perfect gentleman today. You have put my needs first and taken me into your protection. You have been endlessly generous.”

Anger yet flared within me. I nodded and asked brusquely, “Is this why the good people of Meryton would hardly recognize me? Because I have behaved well?”

She nodded slowly and said, “I admit that such was my meaning earlier. But while you sound disparaging of yourself I was thinking of your goodness and how happy I am that if I must be in such a situation I am with you.”

I could not help myself. I asked sardonically, “Then while I am the last man in the world you would marry, I am not the last man in the world you would wish to see in a carriage accident?”

She looked a bit embarrassed, but more exasperated. “I would not wish such ill upon you. Can you not accept a compliment? You are capable and generous. I appreciate all you have done for me today. I do not know any other man I could count on so much.”

These words calmed the irrational flare of feeling I'd experienced. A small smile crossed my face as I said, “I am at your service, Miss Elizabeth.” I saw her blush as though she understood my true meaning.

Suddenly I heard the sounds of a horse approaching again, faster than before. I realized that I'd become so caught up in our conversation that I'd not paid as much attention as before. Also, I realized we would not have time to escape discovery this time. I turned to Elizabeth and hissed, “Behind me!” and I held the pistol out before me, cocked and ready to fire. I prayed that it would not fail me. I noted that my arm trembled with fatigue. But I would not let such weakness or any force at all prevent me from protecting Elizabeth.

The same old mare was in sight now, but she bore only one rider. It was the gypsy whose interest in Elizabeth had so unsettled me. My finger tightened on the trigger. As he came close enough to see the pistol in my hand he pulled back on the reins and halted. He asked, “Yer gonna kill me now?”

I shook my head and replied, “Not if you dismount and walk away.” He looked puzzled. I said, “Consider it a fair trade. Your friends took clothing and personal belongings from the wreckage of our carriage. You have profited from our bad fortune today. Now you will give us that horse in return.”

He stared at me appraisingly for a moment, and then laughed mirthlessly as he dismounted. As he started to back away he asked, “Would ya' really do it, rich man?”

I felt Elizabeth grasping the arm I held her behind me with. Evenly I asked him, “Wouldn't you if you were me?”

He stepped back from us carefully and nodded. He said, “I imagine you have lots o' carriages and such. Only one woman, though.”

Without thought, I nodded. When he was far enough away I walked forward and grabbed the rope halter, pulling the poor old mare to us. I waited until he was nearly out of sight and then finally climbed up on the horse and pulled Elizabeth up behind me. She held tightly to me and I could feel her trembling. I looked at her questioningly. She murmured in my ear, “I do not like to be on horseback.” I coaxed the horse to a fast trot, but could not manage to get a gallop from her.

I replied, “This is not much of a horse. I wish you could see the horses I have at Pemberley. I have some that are highly spirited, but also some very docile creatures who are so sweet I would defy you to fear them.”

She chuckled, “Perhaps you underestimate my fears.”

I answered, “You have nothing to fear.” I thought I heard her whisper that she had nothing to fear when she was with me, but was unsure. I asked hopefully, “Did you say something?”

She asked, “Do you worry about overtaking the other party of thieves?”

I shook my head and said, “They are in a cart and cannot move as quickly as we can and I did not see any evidence that they bore arms. Even if we come upon them we should be able to get past safely. It is now my goal to get you to the safety of a respectable inn where we can see to it that you are properly attended and we can eat and rest. I wonder if you could check the inside pocket of my jacket and see if there is money yet there?”

I saw the other gypsies camped alongside the road ahead of us and again took aim with the pistol. We rode past them silently. They simply stood and stared.

Once past that threat I breathed more easily. Soon I saw the sight we'd so longed for, the next town. I stopped to leap down from the horse and shifted the rope halter so I might lead the animal. I saw to it that Elizabeth was safely seated and instructed her on how to remain secure without me to hold to. She was very quiet as I instructed her. Finally she observed, “Now that I am safe your first priority is once again my reputation.”

I nodded and said, “I believe that we may yet survive this ordeal with reputation intact.” I fought down feelings of disappointment with the satisfaction that I was proving to her that I'd never force her hand. The sun was near to setting, so we had not much time. I waited for her reply and watched her expression carefully. It seemed to me that I saw something like disappointment in her face, but I could not allow my imagination to so deceive me. I asked hoarsely, “Is there money in my jacket?” She nodded and handed me my money clip. I pocketed the clip gratefully and thanked her. Then I led the horse and we entered the village. I looked for the sign of an inn and stopped a man to ask where the best accommodations might be found. People stopped and stared. I glanced up and saw that Elizabeth sat proudly, head held high but eyes lowered demurely. Even after all we had faced, she was beautiful. I was very proud of her ability to withstand unseemly curiosity in addition to everything else.

When we arrived at the inn specified I led the mare to the door and gave the lead to a stable boy. I assisted Elizabeth in her dismount. Despite my better resolve I did savor the moment when she fell against me. Her look to me then was not one I understood, though I noted the pretty blush in her cheeks. I stepped back to a proper distance and asked, “Shall we go in, Miss Bennet?” She nodded and preceded me. Inside I explained our predicament to the innkeeper and his wife, a Mr. and Mrs. Newlin. They apologized that they only had one suite of rooms available but I assured them that would be adequate so long as a maid could be found to attend Miss Bennet, a proper necessity as her chaperone had not survived the accident. I was pleased and relieved at the compassion exhibited by the owners on hearing of our experiences. It was a relief to be again among honest people.

Soon we were led above stairs to a suite of three connected bedrooms. I insisted that I take the smaller back room and Miss Bennet take the larger accommodation, with the maid in the other small room that adjoined it. There was a moment's awkwardness between us as I entered my room and we stood in sight of each other and our respective beds. It was broken as the innkeeper's daughter, a girl of three and twenty who was married but willing to stay with Elizabeth for the night to ensure the propriety of our arrangement, arrived. A doctor was sent for to verify our good health. I suspected this had more to do with the revelation that my aunt's house had typhoid than concern for the effects the hard day might have had. And, much to our delight, the innkeeper's wife announced that she would arrange for us to bathe. When the doctor arrived I went with him to my room while Mrs. Chandler, the innkeeper's daughter prepared Elizabeth's bath.

Dr. Lane was kind and thorough. He was soon satisfied that I showed no signs of typhoid. He insisted I remove my shirt after hearing my description of the accident and the way I'd fallen against the carriage window. He had me stand before the fire, facing the door, while he tended the abrasions on my back.

Suddenly the door from my chamber to Elizabeth's room fell open. The lock was faulty. Before me I beheld a vision my dreams had not done justice. Elizabeth sat in the bath, her eyes closed with pleasure as she soaked in the heat of the soapy water. She was exposed from the waist up. I gasped and her eyes opened. She stared at me fixedly. I started to stammer an apology, but sense finally claimed me. I realized that no one else yet noticed the open doorway, so I forced myself to step forward and gently close it. I then secured the bolt myself.

The doctor asked if there was a problem. He noted that I appeared flushed. I was infinitely glad that his view had been blocked by my body. I dissembled, “It seemed as though the door lock might give.” He apologized and assured me he'd not intended to disregard my privacy. I only nodded and then closed my eyes again as he resumed his efforts. I was lost in the vision now kindled in my mind's eye.

As he moved to go he said, “I imagine you will sleep easily after such a day, Mr. Darcy, but I will leave a sleeping draught in case your aches and pains cause you difficulty.” I thanked him, knowing that I had more reason to desire such a draught than he could imagine. I put my shirt back on carefully. He asked that I remain within for a few minutes while he checked on Miss Bennet. I suggested that he knock before exiting my room to ascertain that her bath was finished. He looked at me oddly but complied. Mrs. Chandler asked him to remain within for another few minutes.

So he sat in the chair and I sat on the edge of the bed. He asked, “Is there anything else you need, sir? I could pass on any requests to Mr. Newlin.”

I said, “I thank you. I need some writing materials and an express rider. I want to send for a carriage and servants from my house in London and I must inform Miss Bennet's family of all that has happened and assure them of her safety.”

He commented, “I assumed that the lady was your wife or a member of your family.”

I only shook my head in response at first. Finally, desiring that any gossip contain truth rather than speculation, I explained, “She was visiting the wife of my aunt's parson, but not inside either house when the quarantine was imposed. It was deemed best that she be returned to her family in Hertfordshire. We are merely friendly acquaintances.” My tone was serious, brooking neither opposition nor foolishness I hoped. I kept my expression neutral and endeavored to keep color from my face.

He nodded and seemed satisfied by my words. Then he said, “She is fortunate to have your protection.” I did not reply.

Chapter 5

There was a light knock on the door and Mrs. Chandler peered within to assure us that it was a good time for the doctor to attend to Miss Bennet. She then asked if I would like a bath drawn for me. I happily asked that it be done. Mrs. Chandler said that her father would come to draw my bath and that after the doctor was done she and Miss Bennet would go to the parlor and await me before dining, per Miss Bennet's instructions. She also said, “And would you believe that one of the merchants on hearing of your arrival realized that he had purchased some of the young lady's dresses from a gypsy today. He sent them to her as his gift!” I asked the name of the merchant and asked that she see that he received a payment of thanks from me. She claimed the gesture unnecessary but smiled broadly. I imagined the man had been set back some money in trying to give assistance to the poor, though I hoped he would carefully consider whether dealing with such people was prudent in the future.

Dr. Lane went to see Elizabeth and I was left alone with my thoughts. I reflected on my conduct of the previous twenty four hours with varying levels of dissatisfaction. I was amazed by Elizabeth's bravery and good spirits in the face of such hardship as that we had faced today. I was thankful that we were both unharmed. I was glad that I'd been able to contribute to Elizabeth's continued well being and that I had found a way to protect her reputation. I could not remember my behavior to her at the parsonage without a good deal of self loathing now. And I even began to wonder if I'd not written to her while still too angry to pay her the respect and honor that I ought. I hoped that my efforts of the day had gone some way toward improving her opinion of me.

A short time later I relaxed in the warm embrace of the water. As he'd preferred to set up the tub in Elizabeth's room, Mr. Newlin stayed to attend me. He added more hot water and asked, “Is the suite adequate, Mr. Darcy?”

I nodded and said, “Yes. It will do fine.” As I finally relaxed I felt my exhaustion with force.

He said, “I hope your lady has no objections.”

I replied, “I am certain that Miss Bennet will be fine. She is a very amiable person.”

He said, “She tells my girl much good of you! Says you saved her life and helped her get safely past those ruffian gypsies.”

I asked, “Have they plagued the area long?”

He nodded and said, “Long enough, for sure. They have been encamped along that road for weeks now.”

I said, “I will see what I can do to ensure that they leave the area, Mr. Newlin.”

He replied, “If you could do something about them I'd be beholden to you all my days. Not safe for decent folk with people like that about.”

I nodded my agreement and then thanked him for his attendance and for bringing writing supplies and finding an express rider. After I bathed I was loath to put my soiled clothes back on. Mr. Newlin provided me a plain but clean shirt of his, but did not have any pants that would fit me, owing to my height. So I reluctantly put my trousers on. Though dry they somehow still felt almost wet. I quickly wrote detailed instructions to my steward at my London home, including a request for clean clothing, and also a note of explanation to Mr. Bennet at Longbourn estate. I asked Mr. Newlin if he could summon the rider so that the messages would go to their respective addresses via express delivery.

I then found the parlor. I did not need guidance as I could hear Elizabeth's laughter and the genial noise of the good people therein. I smiled as I noted on entering the room that Elizabeth had charmed the innkeepers and their guests thoroughly. I felt a pang of regret as I thought how happy my tenants and servants, not to mention Georgiana, would have been made by my alliance with her. I'd not dwelled on that aspect of the relationship before, only the censure I'd expected from those whose opinion truly matters less to me. Something of my regret must have shown in my expression, for Elizabeth bestowed a beautifully sweet smile on me as she saw me standing there. I bowed. She curtsied prettily and asked if I was well. I replied, “Not so well as you, I think. You look very refreshed and much at home with the company.” Mrs. Newlin looked at me sharply, evaluating the relationship between me and Elizabeth, I thought. I explained awkwardly, “I admire Miss Bennet's ability to put people at ease and earn their friendship. Like most, I highly value that which I do not possess.”

A strange expression crossed Elizabeth's face, but she only said, “I thank you for the pretty compliment, Mr. Darcy.” I met her gaze, awkwardly recalling the last time I'd looked at her. I saw the blush rise in her cheeks and then saw her note the plain shirt I wore and thought something about my appearance amused her, but I did not wish to question her on the matter.

I shook my head and dissented, “'Tis no idle compliment, Miss Bennet. You have an uncommon ability to please.” Now I blushed as I realized the words I'd uttered. Again my thoughts turned to the beauty of her which I had accidentally seen. I saw that Mrs. Newlin's suspicions were awakened by my obviously partial conduct.

I turned to Mrs. Newlin and said, “Forgive me Madam, I fear the fatigue of the day has caught up to me. I did not mean to be remiss in thanking you for your kind service.”

Mrs. Newlin thanked me and took my hint, suggesting that we adjourn to the dining room. She apologized that she had no better fare to offer, but promised plenty. I found that I was ravenous and very thirsty. While we ate, Mr. Newlin thanked me for my generosity to Mr. Frost, the merchant who had returned Elizabeth's clothing. I assured him it was nothing. I felt Elizabeth's eyes on me, but did not turn to her then, not wanting her to think I begged thanks. I was amazed at the ease of the company. It was not that I was easy, but more that they were not offput by me. I wondered what made the difference. Was it something about me? Was it that Elizabeth only caused people to feel at ease? Again I had a glimpse of what my arrogance and presumption had cost me in terms of bliss.

The rider arrived. While I gave him instructions, I offered Elizabeth the chance to add a postscript to my note to her father. When she was done, I walked outside with the man, gave him the messages and paid him well to see that they reached their destinations as quickly as possible. As I returned I overheard Mrs. Chandler ask Elizabeth, “Have you known Mr. Darcy long?”

I stopped just before the doorway as I heard Elizabeth's reply, “Though we have been acquainted for some months I cannot say that I knew him at all until today. He is a modest man, one who does not idly boast of his goodness. I confess that until he proved his worth to me I underestimated him, much to my regret. I believe now that he is one of the best men I've ever known.” I could only stare at her as I moved slowly into her line of sight, not daring to hope as to the depth of her regret.

Mrs. Newlin said, “And so handsome! Have you ever met one handsomer, dearie?”

Elizabeth stared at me. Blushing, she only shook her head in reply. Then as I entered the room she stood and curtsied to her companions, saying, “I thank you for the satisfying repast. You have nothing to apologize for. I found your stew delicious. I hope you will understand that I desire to rest now.”

Awkwardly I thanked Mrs. Newlin and took my leave as well. I did not wish for anyone to misunderstand why I left at the same time as Elizabeth, but as my room could only be entered through hers I felt I ought to reach it before my passage would be an imposition on her privacy. As I went to secure the door between us she wished me a good night's sleep. I wished her the same. She thanked me for all I had done for her throughout our ordeal. I replied, “I am only glad that I could be at your service.” The becoming blush that I'd seen so much from her in recent hours returned to her cheeks and made me smile.

...to be continued...

Chapter 6

I removed the innkeeper's shirt and my clothing and lay down on the bed. I ached, both from the exertions of the day and with desire for the beautiful woman in the next room, but sleep soon claimed me. Dreams, as I had expected, also came to me vividly. I awoke from a particularly pleasurable fancy to the sound of Elizabeth's voice, moaning with fear in the next room. My eyes were open at once and I listened for a long moment, hoping that either she would awaken on her own or Mrs. Chandler would go to her. It seemed to be the deepest part of the night. As the fearful noises continued, I struggled against the desire to go to her. I lost this struggle as I heard her begin to quietly sob and beg, “Please don't leave me to them. Oh, stop! No! No!” I jumped up from my bed and pulled my blankets around me. I quietly eased the door open. Her room was dark, but for the low embers of the fire. Mrs. Chandler's room remained firmly shut. Elizabeth continued to cry, moving as though to escape someone's grasp. I could not bear it.

I stepped into her room and stood by the edge of the bed. Very gently I touched her shoulder and whispered, “You are safe, Miss Bennet. It is only a nightmare. You are safe.”

She was still for a moment. Then she asked, “Mr. Darcy?”

I answered in a whisper, “I apologize for coming into your room, but you sounded distressed.”

She sat up and used the sheet to wipe the tears from her cheeks. I heard her breath shudder as it does when one is recovering from great terror. She said, “Thank you.”

I started to bow, but nearly lost hold of the blankets, so I only nodded. I began to back away from her, saying, “I will let you return to sleep now. Please think on happy thoughts, like returning to your dear family or sleeping in your own bed. You are safe.”

I saw her look me up and down and I was embarrassed at my state of dishabille. I stuttered, which I don't think I've ever done before, “I… I… I am…s..sorry.”

In a very small voice she asked, “Won't you please stay with me a moment longer?”

My heart pounded more quickly. Though I could no more refuse her than I could sprout wings and fly, I looked towards Mrs. Chandler's door and said reluctantly, “I should not be here.”

She said, “Please stay with me, just a moment longer.”

Unthinkingly, I moved to her. She shifted over so that I could sit at the edge of her bed. My heart began to beat even more quickly. Hesitantly, I sat there, hardly believing that I did so. She said, “I dreamed you left me in the carriage and then those men found me.”

I replied quietly, “I thought as much from your words.”

She nodded slowly, obviously self conscious that I'd overheard her speak as she slept, and said, “Of course that is ridiculous and could only happen in a nightmare.” She looked at me in an intense way.

I nodded and said, “That is true. I could never do such to anyone, least of all you.”

She looked down and I wondered why it was suddenly difficult for her to meet my gaze. Was she becoming uncomfortable with my continued presence as wakefulness claimed her? I went hot and cold as I heard her next words.

“Mr. Darcy, you are not the last man in the world I could ever marry.” She finally looked up at me, a very slight smile on her face.

I did not know how to reply. To my horror, a flippant response tumbled forth, “Oh. So, perhaps I have managed to squeak by some roguish gypsies and maybe even Mr. Collins?” Again she looked down. I began to feel the bed shake with what I finally realized was repressed laughter from her. I stared at her in amazement.

Finally she said, “Indeed. I would much rather marry you than any of the men you mentioned.”

This subject was still too tender for me to be easy discussing it. I frowned and said dryly, “I thank you. That is a great comfort.”

Her eyes sparkled brightly as she said, “I am only glad to be of service.” And then she was silent. I looked away from the light of her into the heat of the fire's embers. The coals glowed dimly with blue and red heat.

Finally I broke the silence, hopelessly saying, “I did not know what it was to love you until today.” Sadness threatened to overwhelm me as I avoided her gaze.

She was silent for a long moment before she replied, “Nor did I.”

My chin jerked up and I stared at her. Her words seemed to spill forth, “I found today that you could be generous and reliable and comforting and very strong. You put my needs before your own, looked at me with admiration instead of censure, and I fancied that every time you said you were at my service… you were really telling me that you loved me.”

I admitted plainly, “I was. I believe that I will always love you, regardless of what that means for me.” My emotions swirled, a mixture of hope and despair.

She sounded a bit breathless as she said, “Much happened to us today. Beyond the obvious events, I found that I see you as a very handsome and attractive man. I long to be close to you. I long to know ever more of your thoughts and feelings. But only yesterday I disliked you heartily. And there is still the matter of your role in giving dear Jane pain and heartache. I am confused.” She sighed. “I immediately saw the truth of your explanation of Mr. Wickham and the fool he made of me.” She reached up and began to twirl a finger in a strand of her hair. “I have no doubt that your words about him were completely true.”

I interrupted, “But please accept my apologies for my presumptuous and mean-spirited observations of your family! I fear that anger…”

She interrupted, “I thank you, but many of your observations were accurate, though it pains me to admit it. I can even see that Jane's feelings might be difficult to guess for one who does not know her well.”

I said in a rush, “I do not say this to beg your approval, but after hearing your assertions that your sister does care for Bingley I resolved to speak to him when we are next together. Unfortunately that will not be for several months. He visits family in Scarborough. I do not see him again until late summer when he and his family are to come to Pemberley as my guests.” I breathed in and out heavily. “Regardless of anything else, I will be honest with him about my error in judgment and my officious interference. I cannot say how he will act then, but I will tell him the truth.” I thought of how quickly Bingley had always fallen in and out of love in the past, how impetuous he could be about the most significant decisions of his life and I wondered what he would do when I told him the truth about Miss Bennet.

Elizabeth was silent again for some time. She started to speak more than once and did not, obviously hesitant to voice her thoughts. I waited with all the patience I could muster. Finally she looked up at me and said slowly, “I felt a stab of disappointment when I realized that I would not be forced to marry you, Mr. Darcy.”

I smiled broadly and admitted after a moment, “I felt the same.”

She asked, “Would it be unfair for me to ask that we begin anew? That we get to know each other better and build on what was discovered in trying circumstances?”

I shook my head emphatically and said, “No, quite the contrary.” I was nearly breathless with excitement. “I understand that one day's friendship is not enough of a foundation for a lifetime of happiness, regardless of what I already feel. If you would allow me to call at Longbourn- and get to know you and your family better, I would be honored.” I looked at her eagerly, wondering what she was thinking.

She nodded and then smiled slightly. Finally, she noted tentatively, “Circumstance has encouraged us to disregard all propriety today.” The look in her eye left me breathless, though I knew not why.

I nodded agreement and reluctantly said, “I should leave you.”

She nodded, but took my hand in hers and kissed it gently. I gasped. Then she said, “After this conversation it will be a long time before we are able to so disregard it again. And it may be that on knowing me better you change your mind, or certainly on knowing my family better that you decide your fears of associating with them were not without merit.” She chuckled as I shook my head, but she continued, “So, I beg your forgiveness…”

I looked at her, puzzled at first and then with delight as she moved closer and kissed my lips. I could not but respond. Her kiss was light and sweet, but I soon turned it into something more passionate, hungry. When I hesitated and began to pull back she kissed me again, with more passion. Her responsiveness only fueled the fire that had burned in me for so long. I stroked her hair and the delicate skin of her neck. She trembled under my touch. I felt her hands caressing my bare shoulders beneath the blankets I wore. I kissed her with more and more apparent longing. I pulled her close into my arms and felt her shake with desire as I did. I rained kisses down her neck and heard her moan with delight. Heaven had opened up for me. I was inflamed with desire. It was her innocent exclamation that stopped me, “Oh! This is what it is to be kissed, to be desired!”

With a ragged breath I pulled from the exquisite temptation and kissed her hand as she had kissed mine. I repeated my earlier sentiment, but with something more of finality to my tone, “I should leave you.” I looked into her eyes, fearing what I might see but then relieved to find that we were in complete accord, full of desire yet knowing that some lines of propriety must not be disregarded… as of yet. I pulled the blankets tightly around me and stood and slowly backed away from the bed.

She whispered, “I shall await your calls at Longbourn with anticipation.”

I smiled and whispered as I left her, “I am at your service, Elizabeth.”

It was some time before sleep could claim me again.

Chapter 7

Late the next morning I was awakened by knocking at the door to my bedroom. Mrs. Newlin informed me that my carriage and servants had arrived. She said that Miss Bennet was already awake and dressed and that my man brought clothing and personal supplies. I thanked her and bid her send in my man. In no time I was clean, shaven and dressed in clothing of the cut to which I was accustomed. I felt more myself, but hoped I retained enough of the differences seen the day previous to still be acceptable to my lady.

When I entered the inn's small parlor I immediately felt a difference from the easy way I'd been treated the previous evening. I realized at that moment what had amused Elizabeth about my being attired in Mr. Newlin's shirt. She'd seen that it was as a masque, hiding the imposing figure that I usually present to the world. While not intentional, it had given me a taste of the way I would prefer to interact with people. But I saw now that the combined effect of two drivers, four footmen, my largest carriage and finest team, a maid for Elizabeth, a valet for me and my usual fine clothing awed those who'd not found me so awe inspiring before. While my cash had impressed them enough, the display they saw now took away their ease with me entirely.

I wished the Newlins good day in as open a tone as I could manage given the way they now gawked at me. I forced down the resentment I felt. I then turned to greet Elizabeth. I was awash in memories of the previous night's kisses and thought from her expression that she was as well. We took breakfast in the dining room. Mrs. Newlin said in a hushed tone, “Mr. Darcy, I apologize for the simple fare.” She looked quite distressed.

I assured her, “It is delicious and happily welcomed, Madam. I thank you for all of your kind attention to us.”

She wrung her hands in her apron. “Please pardon me. I had no idea just how far beneath your usual company we are.”

I paused and then smiled and said, “Thank you. I appreciate your meaning, except as I disagree that the company was beneath that to which I am accustomed. Honest, kind people are the best company, I think.” I saw Elizabeth bestow an approving smile on me. Mrs. Newlin seemed a very little bit more at ease.

I noted that my servants kept to themselves and seemed eager to be away. I would have to see that those in my retinue behaved with more general politeness. I asked my valet to bring my wallet and gave Mr. Newlin a very generous sum. He protested that it was too much. I said, “Your inn was one of the most wonderful sights I had ever beheld when we came here yesterday. You went out of your way to see to our every need and treated us with kindness and respect. I thank you.”

As we drove away I sighed deeply. From her seat across from me and next to one of the maids from my house in town, Elizabeth asked, “Are you well, sir?”

I nodded and said, “Thank you for asking. I am. And you? Did you rest well? I hope that the events of yesterday did not prevent you from doing so.” I smiled slightly to her and anticipated her reply to my provocative statement.

She raised an eyebrow and said sweetly, “I confess that events both unpleasant and pleasant interrupted my rest more than I'd anticipated. But after the distance we journeyed together and the longing I'd felt, I was very happy for the warmth and comfort I found in my bed there.”

What a sly minx! I struggled to keep my expression from awakening the suspicions of those who rode with us. I looked at Elizabeth for a long and silent moment and enjoyed the blush that crept into her cheeks. Finally I replied, “I hope you will find even more of such warmth and comfort soon.” Her look to me then rendered me speechless for several minutes. She seemed likewise affected. I hoped, rather than believed, that our true feelings were not obvious.

I could not dwell on the possibility that I'd never taste her kisses or feel her response to me again. That way lay madness. Despite her previous sentiments, I knew I could only go forward if I won her love. I was utterly determined to do so.

When we arrived at my home in London, Wenshurst House, I was informed that Mr. Bennet awaited our arrival in the salon and the families of my driver and footmen waited in the study. I stiffened as I heard this last, as dread of the pain I would give washed over me. I bowed to Elizabeth and said quietly, “Perhaps you might greet your father and reassure him in private for a few moments. I must speak with those who await my arrival.” I saw that there was sympathy in her lovely eyes.

She nodded and said, “Thank you, sir. Please convey my sympathies and thanks to them as well. I am so sorry for their loss.” She looked as though she wished to touch my arm, to offer me comfort. This gave me additional strength. I nodded thanks to her and asked for her to please explain my absence to her father and assure him I would join them as soon as I was able.

I heard her father's happy cry of “Elizabeth!” and walked on to the study. It was not the first time I'd faced this kind of burden, but I could never be accustomed to such a duty.

I took a deep breath before opening the door. The three ladies who awaited me there looked at my face carefully, searching for the truth in my expression. One immediately covered her eyes and began to cry softly. A second only stared at me, her face white with shock and her eyes glazed in pain. The third grasped my arm and said, “What has happened, Mr. Darcy? What has happened?” I talked with them about the trip to Rosings and the events there, as related to their families.

When I gave my account of the accident the third woman shrieked. She held her hands beside her head and continued to scream. “No! No! Not my Tom!” Her screaming turned again wordless, almost animal. I felt helpless against her agony.

My housekeeper, Mrs. Windham, held the girl and uttered soothing phrases. My physician entered the room and began to tend to the women, first the one whose grief manifested itself with such hysteria. He suggested I leave. I agreed and said that I would like to go and find my steward that I might sign the papers giving each family a living that would see their needs met from now on, at least those needs that could be met through my financial assistance. The first lady fainted. The second began to cry. The third stopped her frenzied screams and sighed in relief. I heard much of thanks from them. I offered my condolences as I could and left.

In the hallway I stood still for a moment, though my body shook from sorrow. I found my steward and sign the papers I'd mentioned. Then I made my way to the salon. As I entered the room, Mr. Bennet bowed to me and offered, “Mr. Darcy, I thank you. My daughter tells me that you saved her life, protected her from men of ill intent and saw to her reputation, too. Quite impressive, sir! I'm glad for your sake it was Lizzy with you and not one of my other girls. They are so silly that you'd be hard pressed to keep them from compromising you after such heroics!” He laughed. Some of my surprise at this must have shown in my expression.

Elizabeth looked at me with apprehension as she cried, “Oh, Papa! You do like to tease!” I could not tell whether she blushed more from his odd declaration or from the fact that she'd found herself drawn to me over the past hours. For once it seemed that she was the one at a disadvantage. I could not help but enjoy that just a little. I stared at her, smiling slightly as I enjoyed her beautiful confusion.

Finally, I looked to her father and choked out, “No thanks are necessary, Mr. Bennet.” I felt guilt that I had been so inappropriately familiar with her, unbeknownst to him. He looked at me oddly. I was fearful that he read the guilt in my face. I hurriedly continued, “I would be honored, though, if you would agree to allow me to call at Longbourn soon to see that Miss Elizabeth continues well and does not suffer any after effect of the ordeal. Indeed I wish very much to call on her.” I held his gaze unwaveringly and stood still, somewhat fearful of his reply.

He raised his eyebrows and asked in a tone of disbelief, “You wish to call at Longbourn?” I nodded emphatically, unable to find words to express the urgency I attached to my petition. He shrugged, glanced at Elizabeth in an amused fashion, and said, “Very well.” I saw that from that moment he observed his daughter carefully.

Elizabeth urged that we all sit. She said, “We could not help but overhear some of your meeting with your men's wives.” Her look was one of pity, both for them and for me.

I sighed and said, “Grief does express itself in a variety of ways. I am very sorry for their loss.” I looked at her and said, “I apologize that I forgot to convey your good wishes, Miss Elizabeth.”

She shook her head and said, “They do not know me. It is of no matter. Do they have families to care for them?”

I nodded. Mrs. Windham appeared in the doorway. She said, “Mr. Brookings asked me to tell you that he is filing the papers today. He thought you were too distracted before, but wanted you to be able to assure the women that your kind offer is in process. I have already told them, sir. I hope that is to your satisfaction.” I thanked her. I looked at Elizabeth and admired the smile she bestowed on me. I realized that she would leave very shortly and I desperately wished I could kiss her goodbye. I was very tired then. I realized that over the past day I'd lived for her. I could hardly bear the thought of being separated from her now. I would feel as a man without purpose. She looked at me with kindness and longing and grief. We were both silent.

Mr. Bennet cleared his throat and looked at each of us for a moment. He stepped towards the hallway and looked into the library across the hall. He spoke quietly, “Is that your library, Mr. Darcy? It is exquisite. I shall be a few moments examining it if you do not mind.” And he stepped between us out the door of the room and pulled it shut behind him.

I was stunned and delighted. I stepped forward and Elizabeth did the same. We met in the middle of the room and I took her hand and placed a soft kiss there. Then I pulled her to me and kissed her as I'd longed to since I had left her room the previous evening, really as I'd longed to since the beginning of our acquaintance. She held me tightly and murmured, “I hate to leave you.”

She pulled back and looked at me. She smiled a very little smile and said, “Will you not say that you are at my service?”

I stroked her cheek tenderly and kissed her lips again and said, “No. But I will say that I love you.” She started to reply. I put my finger against her lips and said, “Do not say it until I court you properly. You deserve every bit of respect I can show you. You deserve to be admired and sought after, to hear praises of your beauty and your wit. Let me come to you with new-found humility and beg your love.” She kissed the finger I held against her lips and I gasped. I ran my finger along her cheek and jawline.

She kissed me again and there were tears in her eyes as she said, “Then I will not say it… until I see you again.”

I held her tightly. I kissed her again and tenderly stroked her back. I whispered, “Dearest, loveliest Elizabeth.”

We stepped back from each other as the door handle rattled, as though the person without could not work it. Then Mr. Bennet entered the room. He said, “What a magnificent library! I could be lost in there for ages.” He glanced from Elizabeth's face to mine and continued kindly, “But now is not the time for that. We must take our leave of you, Mr. Darcy. Come to Longbourn. We will anticipate your call.”

I nodded, and said, “Thank you, sir. I will call and I thank you for your permission. You are most generous.”

He looked at me wryly and said, “Yes. Yes. Well, enough of that. I am afraid that we must get you back to Longbourn, Elizabeth. Your mother's nerves cannot do without the consolation of your presence a moment longer.”

Elizabeth curtsied and said, “Thank you, again, Mr. Darcy.” Her eyes were properly lowered.

I bowed to her and felt a lump in my throat as I said, “I am at your service.”

Elizabeth looked up. There were tears in her eyes. Again I bowed. And then she left me.

...to be continued...

Chapter 8

I felt as though I had been torn in half. I was at a loss for what to do with myself for several moments after Elizabeth left my home. I thought of her sweet kisses and wished I still held her close. I tortured myself with longing that I'd somehow been able to keep her here with me, as my wife, forever. Finally I pulled myself together and began to think of how I might proceed in order to secure that dream as a reality.

I returned to my study. The women who had been there before had been taken from the room, I knew not where. I sat behind my desk and glanced over the piles of correspondence my steward had put out for me. I stared at the clock as it struck the hour. I felt how long the moment seemed as I was apart from my love. Guilt smote me. I realized how many such moments I'd given in the guise of friendship. Bingley had listened to my advice, to my insistence that he not enter into an unequal alliance, and he had suffered months of the torment I now tasted. I had prided myself because I'd gone above the call of a loyal and caring friend, telling my friend what I had deemed right for his protection despite his obvious inclination. In truth I had acted the machinations of an enemy. And now I awaited informing him of the truth of the matter until I had the convenience of telling him face to face? How much greater would his anger be were he to find that I could have relieved his suffering months sooner and failed to?

And how could Elizabeth's tender regard for me weather the disappointment she was bound to see in her sister's heart on her return home? She would be forcibly reminded of the just cause of her dislike of me. I might find a cool reception indeed at Longbourn when I called!

I had good reason then, selfish and unselfish, for my next action. I found paper, sharpened my pen and began a letter to Charles Bingley. In it I related the essence of the recent journey and my intent to call at Longbourn to assure myself of Miss Elizabeth's continued well being. Then I plainly laid out my part in separating him from Jane Bennet and told him that I had it on the best authority that she did care for him, in the autumn and at present. I wrote that, while I understand if he could not forgive me, I hoped that he would. Then, unfairly, I'm sure, I pressed my advantage and suggested that he might enjoy calling again at Longbourn with me as I was there expected soon. I rang for a servant to post that letter by express. It was the least I could do after so long and so egregious an error! The weight of guilt in my chest lifted a bit.

As I read over my correspondence a message arrived for me. My cousin, Anne de Bourgh, had lost her life to typhoid. The quarantine on Rosings was now lifted. I let the servants know that in three days' time I would return to Kent for a funeral.

Anne's funeral was a sad affair. The sky opened up as though to cry over her. Mr. Collins was more inept than ever as he was fairly overcome with grief, and a poorer choice to officiate could not be imagined. His overflowing expressions of grief did have one good effect, however, in that they somewhat compensated for the paltry number of people in attendance. My aunt, for the first time I could recall, looked small. She was so bereft that she did not look angry or imperious, only alone. I had never before realized how anger with the world energized her. She was a gray shadow of herself without it. She assumed that my burden equaled her own and spoke longingly of the union that would have been so advantageous to our family and the loss of joy I must therefore feel. She even presumed that I would mourn as a widower though I had never been bride-groom to my cousin. I felt cowardly, but truly could see no benefit to relieving her of illusions that could harm no one. I only dissembled as I told her I could not claim the honors of widower, but did mourn my cousin's passing and would ever be available as a loving nephew.

While I was in Kent I called on the family of the maid who had traveled in my carriage and perished during my previous journey home. I found that she had been a widow and was survived by a daughter who was married to one of my aunt's house men. They had several children. I apologized that I was unable to prevent her death and bestowed liberal funds for the education of the children in honor of their grandmother. I was unsurprised to find that they had also received a letter and several small but thoughtful gifts from Elizabeth, whose kindness they greatly appreciated. The daughter wore a warm shawl I had once seen Elizabeth wearing, a gift from an aunt and uncle, if I remember correctly.

When I returned to London I found Bingley's card among those indicating who had called in my absence. I smiled with grim satisfaction.

Chapter 9

The next morning Bingley called. I had cleared my calendar in anticipation of his visit, hoping that he might give me adequate time to explain myself, rather than knocking me flat as I deserved and walking away forever. When he entered my salon I bowed more deeply to him than I ever had before. I saw him note this with a slight start of surprise. His coloring was florid and it was obvious to me that he struggled to hold his temper. For several moments after my man had closed the doors to the room, per my earlier instruction, Bingley paced back and forth before me. I could feel his anger building. I almost welcomed it. Yet I felt anxious as I wondered if our friendship would weather this storm.

Finally he spoke, “How could you be so low as to keep her presence in London from me, Darcy? The rest does not come as so much a shock, but that does. You participated in a scheme that caused me to hurt her! Miss Bennet is a lovely and sweet creature and by your deception she felt rejected by me.” He faced me with a stance suggestive of preparation to physically attack.

I invited him to be seated. He bit out, “I think not! I shall do as I please.” And he resumed his pacing as he glared at me.

I nodded and said, “I am very sorry.”

He shook his head as though denying me forgiveness and said, “Did you truly believe her indifferent?”

I nodded vehemently. I said, “It was not until Miss Elizabeth informed me that I was wrong that I even thought to question that opinion. I could see no partiality on her part. I thought her heart untouched.”

He spoke in a low voice. “That is the principal reason I came here instead of chancing meeting you at Longbourn and cutting you there.” I nodded acknowledgment and thanked him. He impatiently brushed off my thanks and said, “I believed that you spoke to disappoint me because you felt that she did not love me and you wished to protect me.”

I sighed and said, “I believed the same.”

He looked at me sharply and said, “Do you believe differently now? And how did Miss Elizabeth come to tell you such a personal detail of her beloved sister? And how can you justify causing me to hurt her?”

I bowed my head and admitted with shame, “I thought that she was in London at the behest of her mother and that she could be persuaded to pursue you for the advantage of her family.”

Bingley went pale with rage and suddenly came at me, punching me hard in the jaw. I staggered back from the blow. We both cried out in pain. I held my jaw and he cradled his hand. My house man threw open the door and asked in a tone of agitation, “Is there anything I can get for you, Mr. Darcy?”

I tasted blood where the inside of my mouth was cut against my teeth. I replied tightly, “Some rags, wet with cool water please.” I gestured for him to go. He looked at me questioningly and I said, “Please close the door.”

When he was gone I sat. Bingley stood, facing the fireplace and cradling his hurt hand. His shoulders heaved as he breathed heavily, like a man who'd run a race. I quietly asked, “Can you forgive me?”

He spoke bitterly, “I do not know. I suppose that if she can forgive me for being so little of a man, I might. But if your actions were part of costing me the best of happiness I do not expect to ever forgive you.”

I nodded and said, “That is fair enough.” I did not comment on his part in the affair though I privately thought that he had not behaved as I would have in his place. It would certainly have taken more than the opinions of an arrogant friend and selfish family to sway me from Elizabeth, especially if I had reason to hope she cared for me. Bingley, for all his quick decisions, did need to mature in self confidence.

He asked abruptly, “Are you in love with Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”

I replied, “I am.”

He asked, “Are you going to court her?”

Again, I replied, “I am.”

My man returned with two bowls of water and several rags. I indicated for him to serve Bingley first. Bingley sat and we both dipped the rags in the water and applied them to our wounds. My man, lips pursed disapprovingly, again quietly left us.

Bingley asked in a tone of agitation, “What of your objections to the Bennets?”

I replied, “My objections are nothing to the affection I feel for Elizabeth. She is precious to me. I think you would agree that the eldest two Bennet sisters are unlike the rest of the family, in manner and behavior and essentials.”

He nodded and noted, “The low connections of the family are not so great an evil to me as to you. Despite my sisters' efforts to pretend differently, our family was in trade.”

I winced as I remembered my embarrassing behavior when I'd proposed to Elizabeth, and said, “I have considered those points far more than I ought.”

Bingley looked at me, anger still apparent in his face. “You are a lamentable snob sometimes, Darcy. I think that your feelings of superiority to the Bennets contributed to your inability to see Jane's feelings for me.” I only raised an eyebrow as I listened to him. He continued, “I still do not understand how Miss Elizabeth came to entrust you with the knowledge that Jane cares for me.”

I sighed and offered, “It was when she was replying to my proposal of marriage. She offered her views on my actions as part of her justification for refusing me.” I felt a stab of pain at the recollection, but attempted to keep my expression even.

Bingley looked stunned. He stared at the fire for some time and applied a new rag to his bruised hand. “That devastated you.” I nodded. Finally he admitted, “At this moment I do not mind thinking of you suffering such pain, Darcy. I confess it.”

I looked at him darkly and said, “I can understand, and will allow you some measure of tolerance as I know of my guilt in causing you pain, but do not think my tolerance will continue indefinitely.”

He nodded with grudging respect and said, “Understood.” He remained silent for a few moments. Then he said, “It is not my pain that so enrages me. It is Jane's pain. Could you easily forgive someone who hurt Elizabeth?”

I shook my head vehemently and said, “Not at all. In that light I'm surprised you did not bring pistols or call me out with swords.”

Bingley laughed, “The thought of a pistol occurred, but I'm not so foolish as to call you out with the sword. Unless dying on your blade was the only way to elicit a declaration of Jane's love I would never do that.”

After a few more moments' silence he asked, “If Miss Elizabeth has refused you then how do you claim the right to court her?”

I replied, “She has accepted my apologies and explanations for behavior which offended her. And our recent shared difficulties created a new understanding between us, an appreciation for one another's better qualities.” It was with difficulty that I refrained from smiling as I said this last.

He raised an eyebrow and nodded. “If only Jane and I could survive a carriage accident together and evade bands of marauding gypsies from whom I could defend her!”

I corrected him tersely, “There were only a handful of gypsies, not bands of them.”

He shrugged and said, “Gossip has it differently. You come off very well and Miss Elizabeth, though unknown among the ton, is celebrated for her bravery throughout the ordeal. I heard about it from my servants nearly the moment I arrived. And at the club yesterday I heard you killed six gypsies single handedly.”

I laughed grimly. “There were moments when murder was thought of, but fortunately it did not come to that.”

He looked rueful. “I fear I was not of a mind to listen to you being celebrated.” I nodded my understanding. After a few moments he asked, “How did she hear of your part in my actions with Jane?”

Answering only required that I utter one thing, “Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

Bingley laughed, “Ah! What a gossip he is!” He looked at me with obvious curiosity, “So have you called him out for causing her to refuse you?”

I shook my head. “I long ago gave up the hope of curbing Fitzwilliam's wagging tongue.” I frowned, “And it was not her only reason for refusing me.”

He looked at me expectantly. I sighed and said, “I am beginning to expect your forgiveness soon. My pound of flesh is very nearly given.”

He laughed and this time the sound was more friendly. I began to relax. “She also had believed rumors a former acquaintance, Mr. Wickham, circulated that I had treated him cruelly and deprived him of a rightful inheritance from my father's estate.”

Bingley asked, “So what did happen there?” He obviously had wondered about this for some time but not dared previously to question me.

I grimaced and said, “He is a dissolute gambler and seducer. Rather than see him as curate in the parish at Kymptom I paid him three thousand pounds. He squandered that and asked for more. I refused to support his dissolute ways further and he grew angry with me. He plotted various forms of revenge, the latest of which was to defame me in Meryton society.”

Bingley nodded slowly and then asked, “Seducer?” I only nodded and looked at him forbiddingly. Seeing that I would not offer further explanation he said, “Then I think he has no business being on such friendly terms with the Bennet sisters. The younger girls are enamored of the officers, Lieutenant Wickham in particular. He has a manner that I have never fully trusted, but they do.” I again grimaced. Bingley said, “I can see you do not like to speak of him and that you yet hide some particular bad deed of his from me, but I think you are remiss if you do not warn Mr. Bennet to guard his daughters.”

I sighed in resignation and said, “You are right, Bingley. In that matter I have not acted as I ought.” I nodded and he understood that I meant to warn Mr. Bennet when we reached Hertfordshire.

Bingley again wrapped his hand with a fresh cloth. He said in a laughing way, “It comes as no surprise that your jaw is as hard as a rock.” He stood and walked back and forth in front of the fire. “You admit you were in the wrong?”

I replied, “Completely and utterly. I was wrong and my interference was officious. I wish rather than expect your forgiveness.” I looked away from him as I quietly said, “I would miss your friendship.”

He looked at me oddly and said, “Your manner seems less arrogant, Darcy. You have never spoken to me like that.” He looked away and then faced me again, “Please accord me the respect I deserve and treat me as a friend rather than as a charge or lesser being you would improve in an act of charity. And I will do my best to earn that respect and act as the man I ought to be.” I nodded. He cleared his throat and said, “I forgive you.”

I stood and offered to shake his hand. He laughed and offered his uninjured hand instead. Awkwardly we shook hands and I said, “Thank you. I value your friendship and am sorry for the pain I caused you. It was unknowingly given. If I can be of assistance to you, as an equal, I will do so.”

Chapter 10

Together, Bingley and I entered Longbourn three days later. His reception by Mrs. Bennet was all that one could hope for, polite and eager and welcoming. My own was far less warm, though the good lady did thank me for seeing that Elizabeth reached home safely. I could not comprehend how I had so offended her that my more recent actions mattered so little to her. I searched my mind about the interactions I'd had with her, realizing that they were few, and endeavored to understand how I might have secured her bad opinion. I supposed that she must have been prejudiced against me by Wickham's account. I doubted she knew of my interference between Miss Bennet and my friend. I finally decided that the lack of attention I'd paid her previously must be at fault. So, instead of walking over to stand by the window as I was tempted, I took a seat near Mrs. Bennet and attended her words with the utmost show of politeness and respect. I saw that she was surprised by this, but did seem pleased by my effort.

I also saw that Elizabeth could not completely hide her mirthful reaction. I was unable to look at her without wishing to be somewhere more private, able to greet her with kisses and caresses and ascertain that all was well between us yet. But that was not to be. We were `en famille' and it was in this setting that I would now need to prove my worth.

Conversation touched on the usual variety of topics, including changes in the neighborhood since we had last been there. At one point in discussing Mr. Collins, I noted that Mrs. Bennet looked at Elizabeth with reproof. I therefore limited my compliments about Mrs. Collins. Bingley did not, saying that Mrs. Collins was a pleasant lady and Mr. Collins must be very happy in his choice of wife. For the first time I saw Mrs. Bennet's manner to Bingley cool slightly. I realized that as Longbourn was entailed on Mr. Collins, he and his wife had a power over Mrs. Bennet that she could not like. Had Elizabeth married the man she would have secured her family's future in that they would have been allowed to remain in their home even if something were to happen to Mr. Bennet. As I watched the family's interactions I saw that Mr. Bennet absented himself from much of the discussion, only occasionally provoking Mrs. Bennet to greater outbursts with acerbic comments. Mrs. Bennet was not well educated. She worried about her future and that of her essentially dowerless girls. Without discouragement from her husband, her fears took flight and formed the majority of her speech and action.

I felt more sympathy for her than I had before. She sniffed and said, “Well, I am sure that Charlotte Collins realizes her good fortune in being well settled.” Again she looked at Elizabeth pointedly. Elizabeth kept her eyes demurely turned on her needlework.

I haltingly offered, “She does seem content with her life in Kent. I think she should like to remain there all of her days. I have the impression that she values the independence of being situated at a convenient distance from her family.”

Mrs. Bennet looked pleased and said, “Let us hope she gets her wish!” She smiled at me then. She observed, “However, as you well know, the distance from Kent to Hertfordshire is not always conveniently traveled.”

Elizabeth spoke up. “Mr. Darcy once assured me it is an easy distance to traverse in a day.” She smiled at me archly and I returned the look.

I dryly responded, “Some days it is more easily traveled than others.” Mrs. Bennet laughed and I was pleased with her friendly response to me. She asked me to tell what had happened to us, as Elizabeth did not share much of our ordeal. I assured Mrs. Bennet, “You may be very proud of your daughter, ma'am. She bore great discomfort and inconvenience, and even some moments of alarm, with great composure. Her conduct was all that is to be admired. She is remarkable.” It was with great effort that I resisted looking at Elizabeth in that moment.

Mrs. Bennet looked taken aback by my words. She stared at me and then moved her eyes to see Elizabeth's reaction. Then I saw her look at Mr. Bennet to see that he smiled, but showed no surprise, as he read his book. She looked vexed with him. Apparently he'd not let her know that I intended to court Elizabeth. Mrs. Bennet said carefully, “We are delighted to hear that she behaved so well, sir, though not surprised. Elizabeth is a spirited and intelligent young woman. She carries herself well, even in difficult circumstances.”

I nodded and said, “I could not agree with you more, Mrs. Bennet.” She giggled. I saw Elizabeth sigh, looking embarrassed.

Miss Bennet was blushing prettily and I looked at Bingley and saw that his attention was fixed on her. Mrs. Bennet saw this as well. She called for refreshments and urged Miss Bennet to serve. She asked, “Mr. Bingley, do you intend to stay at Netherfield long? We had heard you intended to give the place up altogether.”

Bingley responded eagerly, “I intend to stay for some time. Netherfield needs my attention and I have missed the society of the neighborhood. I cannot recall a time I enjoyed more than when I was last here.” His words were ostensibly for Mrs. Bennet's benefit, but he continued to stare at Jane Bennet.

I overheard Elizabeth quietly telling her younger sister, Miss Catherine, about first seeing me and Bingley one day when she was at Oakham Mount, her favorite place to walk. I struggled to keep my attention on Mrs. Bennet, as was proper.

Mrs. Bennet looked well pleased, saying, “We are glad to hear it. You have been missed, too. You are quite a debt in my honor. Before you left you'd promised to dine with us!” She paused and then added in a friendly tone, “We hope you will dine with us, too, Mr. Darcy. Would the day after tomorrow suit the two of you?” We accepted her invitation and the rest of this first visit passed uneventfully. As we rode away Bingley congratulated me on my efforts to win Mrs. Bennet's approval. He owned that when he could spare me attention he enjoyed it heartily, especially when he recalled the opinions I'd expressed of her previously.

The next day we returned to call again. All the family was within. Mrs. Bennet's greeting was equally pleasant to both Bingley and me. My friend was happy yet nervous, thinking that his Jane had smiled encouragingly at him, though of course their relationship was not as easy as he hoped for it to be.

We were both determined to make good use of the time we had as it had come to our attention that the two eldest Miss Bennets were expected at their Uncle's house in London in two weeks' time for a short visit. Truthfully I intended to also hie to London at that time and attempt to continue seeing Elizabeth there. I imagined Bingley would be like minded.

Conversation was again generally pleasant until I followed through with a resolve I'd made previously. I asked, “Mrs. Bennet, may I beg your help?” Her eyes went wide and she nodded. I continued, “I have reason to think that you, along with others in the neighborhood, have been told falsehoods of me and I would beg your kindness in allowing me to refute them.”

Mrs. Bennet asked, “Whatever could you mean, Mr. Darcy?” I saw that I had the unwavering attention of all in the room. Even Mr. Bennet set his book aside and looked at me expectantly. Elizabeth looked at me with encouragement.

I swallowed hard. This attention was so against my usual inclination that I could hardly keep my voice from trembling. I looked into Mrs. Bennet's eyes and saw avid curiosity. I said, “You may have heard that Mr. Wickham and I were friends when we were boys.” She nodded, her expression solemn. I continued, “And when my father passed away that he specified a living be made available to Mr. Wickham should his inclination turn towards the church?” Again she nodded, leaning forward eagerly to hear my words. I said, “However, I do not believe that you have heard that Mr. Wickham professed not to have an inclination for the church.” She gasped and one of the younger girls cried out and was silence by Mr. Bennet. I pulled papers from my pocket and gave them to Mrs. Bennet to review. “Herein I agreed that as Mr. Wickham was not to take orders and thus could not benefit from the living my father had provided, I would instead provide him the sum of three thousand pounds. You see our signatures on it?” She looked over the paper, uncomprehending at first, but then with growing alarm.

She had tears in her eyes suddenly as she said, “You poor man! You have been unjustly vilified.”

I nodded and swallowed, unable to meet the eyes of my audience. I said, “I previously thought it beneath me to lay out my actions before the world, and hoped that people would question any fabrications about me and find the truth for themselves. But the result was that people believed what they had been told and took my silence as an admission of guilt.” I finally looked into Mrs. Bennet's eyes again. “I am not easy among those who I do not know well. It has been pointed out to me that I ought to make more effort to overcome my inclination, and that I ought to try harder to engage people's good opinion.” As I glanced to Elizabeth, I heard Mr. Bennet chuckle. “But I do not like to speak ill. I once loved my childhood friend and continually hope that he will grow to goodness. I try to give him the benefit of the doubt. But he has blackened my name unfairly and I must defend myself.”

Miss Lydia interrupted, “If you gave Wickham so much money then why has he not got any now? If you tell the truth then why is he poor?”

Miss Bennet gasped, “Lydia!”

I looked at Miss Lydia and explained, “Mr. Wickham spent it all, Miss Lydia. I know not how.”

Mr. Bennet asked mildly, “Please excuse me, Mr. Darcy, but I am curious. Were you at all surprised that Mr. Wickham chose not to take orders?”

I shook my head and replied shortly. “I was not.”

He asked, “May we speak privately about this matter, then?”

Miss Lydia interrupted again, “Why, Papa? If Mr. Darcy has something of which to accuse Mr. Wickham, why can't we hear about it?”

Mr. Bennet dryly replied, “He has already proven his accusation that Mr. Wickham is a liar, my child. Were you not listening? Is your mother not holding legal documents that prove which man tells the truth?”

I said, “I would be honored to talk with you privately, sir.”

I followed Mr. Bennet into his library. He offered me a drink. Wishing to keep my wits about me I refused it. He poured himself a small glass and sat behind his desk, motioning for me to sit across from him. He looked at me appraisingly and said, “Your campaign to win Elizabeth's hand is progressing well, I think.”

I asked only, “Sir?”

He said, “That's fine. From what I saw between the two of you in London you will do well. She did not like you so much at first and apparently let you know it. And now you are giving me much entertainment as you woo her family.” He chuckled. Then he sipped his drink and said, “But tell me, please, is this Wickham fellow one to keep out of the society of my girls? To have nothing to show from a fairly recent bequest… It was in the last five years, was it not?” I nodded. He continued, “Then to have nothing to show from it now infers a life of dissolute ways.” He looked me in the eye and said, “Insults to the memory of boyhood friendship aside, is the man a libertine?” I again nodded.

Mr. Bennet asked, “And would you want for him to be in company with your sister, for whom I believe you have responsibility?”

I repressed a shudder and answered firmly, “Not at all. The man is blessed with happy manners that enable him to make friends easily, but whether he deserves to keep them is another matter indeed.”

Mr. Bennet said, “I have recently been petitioned to allow my youngest to go to Brighton as companion to Colonel Forster's wife.” I looked at him, horrorstruck. He said, “I was inclined to allow it, but I take it from your expression that you think it a poor idea.” I looked at Mr. Bennet carefully, not eager to give offense. He laughed at my expression and said, “Oh, for goodness' sake. Out with it, man! What do you think?”

I said, “I think that would be disastrous. Miss Lydia is, please forgive me, a rather exuberant young girl who has had her head turned by the officers of the regiment much already. The dangers of a camp of such men are too numerous to detail.” I noted that he looked at me and smiled oddly, almost as though he'd already heard these arguments. “I will speak to a more specific danger, however, sir. Mr. Wickham is a favorite of his Colonel's wife and would therefore be much in company with your daughter. The man is a gambler, a wastrel and a seducer. He left more than broken hearts among daughters of staff and tenants when he left Pemberley. And I even know him to have no scruple with daughters of gentlemen. Keep your girls from him. Especially now that the eldest are being courted by gentlemen of means…”

Mr. Bennet looked mildly surprised by my vehemence, but finally said, “Very well. I thank you for your advice.” He stood and opened the door, not at all surprised to find Mrs. Bennet immediately outside. “Mrs. Bennet! Would you please instruct the servants not to receive Mr. Wickham and aide me in keeping the girls out of his way? He is not worthy of our friendship. Would you not agree?”

Mrs. Bennet looked alarmed, “But he is a favorite of our girls! He has been for these past several months!” She began to wring her hands and act as though her emotions were near to a boiling point. She looked to us both for further instruction, I saw.

I said, “Mrs. Bennet, I apologize for not sharing the truth about him with you earlier. I know that the well being of your daughters is your foremost concern and I am ashamed of myself for not speaking to help you protect them sooner. Can you forgive me?” I shook my head and said, “I ought to have warned you against him at the beginning of our acquaintance. I am sorry.”

Mr. Bennet chuckled. I looked to Mrs. Bennet. She said, “Of course I forgive you, dear Mr. Darcy! You have been wronged by him. I thank you for coming to me to help clear your name and for helping us see that we ought not to keep his friendship.” Her mouth trembled a bit with the effort all of this cost her. I kissed her hand in salute.

Mr. Bennet called out, “Lydia, please come to my library, child!” He looked pensive, as though trying to come to a decision.

I looked at Mr. Bennet hopefully and said, “All my best, sir. Thank you for listening to me.” He nodded, apparently decided, and urged Miss Lydia into the library before closing the door.

I offered Mrs. Bennet my arm and we returned to the sitting room together. Once there I said, “I think it best that we take our leave now, Bingley.” He nodded reluctantly and stood from where he had been in close conference with Miss Bennet, taking advantage of the absence of her parents from the room. We took our leave of each lady, leaving our compliments for Miss Lydia and for Mr. Bennet. I looked longingly again at Elizabeth. All eyes were on us, so our farewell was all that was proper.

She said, “We look forward to seeing you at dinner tomorrow evening.”

Mrs. Bennet repeated this sentiment and sent us off with effusive adieus. As we mounted our horses we heard yelling within. Bingley asked, “What is that about?”

I replied, “I imagine that Mr. Bennet has refused Miss Lydia permission to act as companion to Colonel Forster's wife in Brighton.”

Bingley answered, “Why in the world would he have considered such a thing? Does he not know what she is?” He looked embarrassed as he asked this last.

I puzzled over how best to reply. Finally, as it was Bingley, I honestly answered, “I do not think he takes any trouble with his daughters that he deems unnecessary.”

Bingley shook his head and said, “I do wonder that Jane and Miss Elizabeth are of that family.”

I thought of all we had seen of them over the past two days and said, “I do not wonder at it so much as I did previously.”

Bingley snorted, “Well, you are halfway to being Mrs. Bennet's favorite man in the world at the moment. I had no idea you had it in you, Darcy. It is almost frightening.”

I laughed and took off at a gallop.

Chapter 11

The next morning, I hopefully explored the countryside on foot. I recalled hearing Elizabeth mention a place called Oakham Mount as a favorite haunt. I asked a servant for directions and walked that way. My efforts were rewarded. As I crested the top of the Mount I saw my beloved sitting on a large rock and admiring the view. I greeted her, “Good morning, Miss Elizabeth.”

She looked at me and smiled beautifully. “Good morning, Mr. Darcy. I am glad to see that you can spare attention to the conversation of others in my family beyond my mother.” She was teasing me, but looked sincerely pleased.

I am sure that I blushed at her teasing. I nodded and said, “I always spare attention to your words.”

She said, “I am glad to hear it.” Then she looked away, ostensibly admiring the view. After a moment she said, “I must thank you, I think. I believe you convinced my father not to allow Lydia's intended journey to Brighton?”

I nodded and looked sober. “I am pleased that he heeded my advice. I did not wish to overstep my bounds or give offense…”

Elizabeth shook her head and said, “Oh! You did not. Papa loathes the usual niceties. He seems to approve of you very much.” She sighed and said, “I had attempted to reason with him, but he would not heed my words. I was afraid of saying too much, so I fear he did not give much credence to my arguments.”

I looked at her with appreciation and said, “I thank you for taking care where my sister is concerned.” We exchanged a warm look and I continued, “I anticipate introducing the two of you. I hope you will allow it soon. She will adore you.”

She looked at me seriously and asked in an odd way, “What is Miss Darcy like?”

I was puzzled by her tone. I replied, “She is just sixteen. She is very fair and tall for her age, about your height.” I considered how to describe Georgiana's personality. “She is tender hearted. I would have to admit that she is not easy in company. Perhaps she has been with me too much.” I smiled with self deprecation.

Elizabeth looked at me tenderly and said, “There is a pleasing softness to your tone when you speak of her. I think she must have a very loving brother in you.” She spoke more quietly, “I know you are an unparalleled protector.”

I bristled a bit as I replied, “I have not proven so able in that way as I ought.” I tried not to think of that day at Ramsgate.

She stood and approached me slowly. I looked at her questioningly. She laughed lightly and said, “You look as though you need to be held and comforted. I cannot but come to you.” She put her arms around my neck and pulled me close.

I said, “I shall have to find a way to appear so at all times!” I wrapped my arms around her and we stood there quietly for some time, enjoying comfort of one another. After a long moment I pulled back slightly and leaned down to kiss her. It was like coming home. Though I delighted in the touch of her lips, I forced myself to be content with only a few kisses before pulling back. I said, “Tell me of your first sight of me and Bingley. I heard you mention that you saw us from here?”

She told me she'd seen us galloping across the fields, a few days before it was known that Netherfield had been let. She admitted that despite her distaste for horses she'd been struck by the sight, by the speed and power of the horses and the mastery of the riders.

I laughed slightly, “I'd not call Bingley a master horseman. He's an excellent shot, perhaps the best I know, but does not handle his horses so very well.”

Elizabeth looked amused. “You do not deny that you deserve such a title, however. What of your shooting abilities? I am surprised you would yield to him as your superior.”

I shook my head, smiling as I told her, “I have little choice in the matter. He is the better shot.” I chuckled and wryly defended myself, “Do not misunderstand me to suppose I am the best at everything. I am not that proud!”

She crooked an eyebrow and smiled at me teasingly. “I merely want to verify that your pleasing ways can be trusted.” I looked at her quizzically. She admitted, “I have recently undergone a significant transformation in the way I think of you. I would not like to think that I am so silly as my father inferred, only charmed by your heroism. I must continue to make out your character so that I might sketch it in a way that reflects credit on both of us. I wish to be able to account to my intellect for the strength of my emotions where you are concerned.”

I replied with some alarm, “Please do not go too far in such an exercise. I may not bear up under your scrutiny and I do not think I could survive another rejection by you. Your opinion matters to me in a singular way.”

She turned to me and pulled my head down so she could kiss me. She said, “At that moment you looked as though you needed even more than to be held.”

I returned her kiss and then said, “I suppose perhaps we should walk together. I do not want you to think that I only desire your kisses.” I paused and then added, “Much as I do desire them, it might not reflect credit on me if you do not know that I also desire your sweetness and your intellect, your opinions and your character.”

She blushed and said, “You must think me a wanton.”

I closed my eyes briefly against wild imaginings and stopped walking. I said, “I rather deeply wish you wanton, Elizabeth. You cannot imagine how that idea works on me.” Incapable of any other action at the moment, I pulled her to me and kissed her soundly. I continued kissing her for some time, feeling her gasp and respond to the fire within me. I felt her arms slide up around my neck and her body seemingly melt against my own. Finally, somehow, I was able to stop. I gasped, breathless with desire for her. I held her so that her head fit just beneath my chin and cradled her against me as I struggled to regain full control. I could feel her trembling. I whispered, “Are you well?”

She nodded and said, “I never knew it could be like this. The descriptions of passion in poetry and books, even those I ought not to have read, don't do it justice.” She clung to me. “Even when I disliked you I was drawn to you. It was part of why your perceived disdain of me worked on me so. It made me angry to think that I found you attractive and that I wasn't `handsome enough to tempt' you.”

I groaned and said, “Oh! I was a fool! Even as I uttered the words I knew them false. It was only that I was uncomfortable with the attention and the situation. I could hear whispers of '10,000 a year!' and the like. Not that it matters. There is no excuse for how rude I was.”

She laughed slightly and said, “You are forgiven, Mr. Darcy.” She saw the odd expression on my face and asked, “What is it?”

I kissed her cheek and said, “I was wondering if you might call me by my Christian name?”

Her eyes went wide and she asked, “Fitzwilliam?” I nodded and she said, “But it makes me think of your cousin, the Colonel!”

I blanched and said, “Then please don't call me that!” I nearly closed my eyes again against what I imagined in that moment!

She reached up and brushed back a curl from my forehead. Thoughtful, she asked, “Would it be acceptable to call you Will?”

I nodded and kissed her again. Then I moved my lips to the skin at her neck, kissing her very lightly there. I heard her gasp, “Will… Oh! You are forgiven.” I kissed her lips again and then pulled away. I loved the look on her face.

I said, “Thank you for your forgiveness. As I said, even as I uttered those foolish words I knew them false. I did not yet know how far from the truth they would prove for me; that I would come to think you the handsomest and most exquisite lady of my acquaintance, but I knew them false.”

She said, “I like being courted by you.”

I stepped back from her and kissed her hands again. “The temptation of you prevents me from being more proper in my efforts.”

She smiled saucily, “We must be proper when others are present, but I could not forgive you if you did not let me know that you find me tempting when we are alone.”

She took my arm and we walked the paths of Hertfordshire together, talking on all manner of topics for the rest of the morning. When we were in the most private spots I would see her looking at me as though she sought reassurance that I yet desired her. I was most happy to prove my feelings again and again. It was intoxicating.

The conversation turned to the day of the carriage accident. I asked, “Why have you not talked of the accident and events following with your family?”

She was silent for some time. Finally she owned, “I have only been completely honest with Jane. That has been my way for most of my life, I confess. I do not trust the others with my secrets and my heart. Perhaps if I did not care for you as I do, I would be easier talking of my time alone with you.”

Curious, I asked, “Have you told her everything?”

She asked, “What would you be surprised to hear that I had told her?”

I thought of several things. I thought of the way I'd held her as she slept. I thought of the lascivious leering of the one gypsy man. I thought of our time together at the inn, most especially in the middle of the night. Finally I said, “I might be surprised if you had told her about the way the door between our rooms fell open as you bathed.”

She flushed crimson. She looked away from me as she said, “I only told her that as the doctor attended you the door fell open and I saw you unclothed from the waist up and found the sight most appealing.” I was silent as I watched her. She said, “I was so caught up in the sight of you that I did not even realize at first how exposed I was!” She still would not look at me. Yet there was something in her expression that kept me silent. She finally admitted, “No. I did not tell Jane that when I realized that you saw me… naked… and you looked on me with obvious desire, well, just how very much I liked it. I did not tell her that I realized how much I'd always wished for you to desire me.”

We were getting nearer to Longbourn. I realized that the privacy we'd enjoyed so much was nearly at an end. Again I pulled her to me and kissed her passionately. I queried quietly, “You found the sight of me appealing?” She ran her hands up my chest and looked at me with fire in her eyes. I stayed still as she leaned up and kissed me, running her hands again over my chest and up to my shoulders. I savored the approval I felt from her.

She whispered, “You are very strong!”

I chuckled and replied, “I feel very weak at the moment.” She begged another kiss and I began to run my hands over her back and arms. I allowed one hand to trail slowly up and down her side. She trembled against me.

She whispered, “Will, I find you very appealing. I desire you.” She kissed me again for a long time. Finally she said, “And I love you.”

That evening it was sheer torment to sit in the same room with Elizabeth and pay mind to other people. I wanted her close to me. I desired her kisses and caresses. I wanted to hear her call me `Will' again. When she was serving the coffee I managed to touch her fingers as she handed me my cup. I saw fire in her eyes and then we once again looked away to others and pretended to mind their concerns. I resolved that at the next possible moment I would request a private interview with Elizabeth and beg her to marry me.

I was frustrated to hear that she and Miss Bennet were to spend the next morning in Meryton with their aunt, Mrs. Phillips. I planned that I would call in the afternoon and seek my audience then. Finally as Bingley and I took our leave I managed to steal a moment alone in the hallway with her to whisper, “If you will allow it I would like to speak with you tomorrow; a private interview, please?”

Her eyes shone with promise and happiness as she nodded her reply. Then Mrs. Bennet entered the hall and we finished taking our leave. It was just starting to rain as we entered the carriage, a long slow rain that promised to continue through the night and into the next day. I was quiet in the carriage on the way back to Netherfield. After some time, I noticed Bingley's smile. He said, “You were probably too busy trying not to stare at Miss Elizabeth to notice, but I managed to speak with Mr. Bennet tonight. He gave his approval when I told him that Jane had accepted my proposal earlier today.” He looked away from me as though lost in blissfully happy memories. That he was utterly content was readily apparent. His satisfied demeanor was in marked contrast to my own reined-in energies.

I said, “Congratulations! I did not know you intended to call at Longbourn today.”

He chuckled, “I thought my mission more likely to meet with success if I came without you. Besides, I noticed that Miss Elizabeth was away from the house walking all day. I thought that perhaps you'd been fortunate enough to find a way to escape your new sweetheart, Madame Bennet, in order to spend some time with her daughter.” He looked at me quizzically.

I admitted, “I did happen upon her as she walked.”

He laughed, “An amazing coincidence given that this is not a miniscule county!”

I nodded and said, “Amazing, indeed.”

He asked, “So, will you propose again?”

I only nodded. Then as he continued to look at me, I said, “Tomorrow, Bingley. She has agreed that I might speak with her tomorrow. I believe it will be a wonderful day.”

...to be continued...

Chapter 12

The rain continued through the night and the new dawn was pale and gray. It did not at all match my feelings of excitement, especially as I reminisced over the favorable reception I'd had from my beloved the previous day. My mood dimmed somewhat when, late in the morning, Miss Bingley's carriage arrived. She found me at table. After greeting her I said, “I am surprised that you braved the elements to come from London this morning, Miss Bingley.”

She said, “It is a savage day, is it not? Of course that is appropriate to this desolate country.” I did not respond, only looked at her noncommittally and took a sip of my tea as she had her plate served. In my mind I allowed myself the luxury of a fitting epithet or two. She brushed at a spot on her gown and continued, “I thought it important that I come here to take care of my brother and see if I could prevent him from an impetuous mistake. It is all well and good for him to feel badly if Miss Bennet's feelings were hurt, but not necessary for him to make a spectacle of himself by his attendance of her. Why, the servants tell me that he has dragged you to Longbourn every day this week!” She laughed meanly and looked at me with feigned pity. I was disgusted.

I laughed lightly and assured her, “That is a poor description of the situation, Miss Bingley. I went most willingly.” I looked at her directly, with a slight smile meant to hint at the pleasure I took from visiting Elizabeth.

She colored slightly and gazed at me with an odd expression, saying, “You are a generous friend, Mr. Darcy.” Pointedly, she asserted, “You have been a better friend to him in the past, however.”

I replied quietly, “We must agree to disagree on that, Miss Bingley. I have come to realize that I did him an injustice and I am grateful for his forgiveness. He has even asked me to stand up for him when he marries Miss Bennet! He is most generous.” I looked at her evenly, meanly enjoying her discomfort. It was beneath me, but she is truly detestable at times.

She gasped and sat back, “Then I am too late.”

I responded, “You are in good time to congratulate him and offer him your sincere best wishes.”

She looked at me witheringly. “Please do not trifle with me, Mr. Darcy.”

I shot back bitingly, “I have never done such a thing, Miss Bingley! I only offer what I consider to be prudent advice. Your brother is delighted that Miss Bennet has always loved him; and well enough to forgive him for listening to us rather than his own heart. He has received her father's consent. I imagine that Mrs. Bennet has already been informed. I know that Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth are to spend the morning in town with their Aunt Phillips. I feel safe in assuming that the engagement will be common knowledge by noon.”

Miss Bingley protested, “Surely you do not approve of such a match for Charles!”

I said, “Whether or not I do is immaterial. As it happens, I quite heartily approve. But I have enough sense to know that my approval is not as important as the happiness of two people in love.”

Miss Bingley said sarcastically, “Oh! Certainly it is true that if Charles and Jane love each other nothing else matters!”

Entering the room, Bingley chose to ignore his sister's tone and accept her words at face value. “I am delighted to hear that you feel that way, Caroline. What a lovely surprise it is to have you here to celebrate my good news!” He kissed her cheek and teased darkly, “Unless of course you only come to further discuss your allowance or living situation?” He moved to sit by her and was served food and drink. His look to his sister was sardonically teasing.

I nearly choked on my breakfast tea. I looked at my friend with new respect and liking. I could see that despite his pointed remarks to his sister he still glowed with joy and satisfaction as he had since being accepted by Miss Bennet.

Miss Bingley had gone rather pale. She swallowed hard and said, “Of course not! I am only sorry that I haven't had the opportunity to congratulate dear Jane yet. I hope the two of you will be very happy together.” He continued to look at her steadily and it seemed to unnerve her. I imagined that if his anger had led him to violence with me, it had assuredly led him to strong words with his unrepentant sister. She said, “I hope to hear every detail of your felicity, Charles. And I must be allowed to help plan the celebrations.”

Bingley said, “We can call on the Bennets tomorrow and discuss your suggestions with them, Caroline.”

She first looked relieved and then cautiously said, “I am surprised that you do not plan to call today.”

Bingley glanced my way and grinned, “I think we would be in the way. Darcy has requested some privacy at Longbourn this afternoon.” I looked at Bingley witheringly as his sister gasped. Bingley's good mood led him to tease, “Unless you would not mind our tagging along, Darcy?”

I smiled at him humorlessly.

After breakfast I returned to my chamber and worked on some correspondence to my steward. Then I began to write the words I should say as I proposed to Elizabeth. I winced as I recalled my last proposal to her. I tried to recall if I'd said anything that was to my credit. I supposed that the sentiment of my opening, as it referred to admiration and love, was not entirely without merit… though even then I'd been imperious. Today I would avoid using the word `must.' I thought of other words to avoid and it was a humiliating list: degradation, inferiority, beneath. I groaned aloud in shame. As a lover, I had much to atone for.

With much effort and editing, I composed what I hoped would be a more acceptable proposal. It was slow work. I wanted to treat her with respect, but did not want her to be unable to respect me. Finally I wrote, “Dearest, most beloved Elizabeth: Thank you for the opportunity to speak privately with you today. I am also grateful that you are kind enough to forgive my past actions and words, and to give me the chance to become your friend and suitor. I passionately admire your beauty, your wit, your purity and sweetness. I hope to be at your service for all my life and to give you joy. I know that my sister and my tenants and servants would delight in my choice of you as the woman charged with their well being. Will you do me the honor of agreeing to become my wife?”

I laughed at myself as I looked over my written proposal. Unless I handed it to her and waited for her to read it I would never remember the words. I was far more likely to simply fall to my knees and beg her to accept me. I read over what I'd written, hoping that I might acquit myself well as a man today.

Suddenly I heard voices yelling. I could hear Bingley's voice and recognized that he was more distressed than I'd ever heard before. I felt cold with apprehension as I exited my chamber. On reaching the top of the stairs I saw Mr. Bennet standing in the hallway below. Rain streamed from his clothing and he looked gray with anxiety. He peered up at me and I saw from his expression that he was shattered. Bingley turned to look up at me as well and there were tears of rage in his eyes. I ran down the stairs. As I reached them, Charles held out a note which I accepted with trembling fingers.

I choked as I read it aloud, “To Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley and Mr. Bennet: Misses Jane and Elizabeth Bennet will be returned to you if you follow instructions, without question and without fail. Do not contact the law, even private service. Do not contact any friends in the military for help. Between you, arrange to make the demanded payment of fifty thousand pounds. You will be contacted again at Wenshurst House in five days' time with more details about the exchange.”

I stared at the familiar handwriting. I asked, “How did you receive this note?”

Mr. Bennet gasped as he replied, “It was affixed to the seat of the abandoned carriage on the tip of a knife.” He looked truly ill.

I could not hide my reaction to this detail. I felt Bingley's hand on my shoulder as I shuddered in horror.

I asked in a clipped tone, “Who found it and brought it to you?”

He said, “Sir William Lucas was on his way home when he saw my carriage by the side of the road. The driver was missing and a wheel broken; my manservant was unconscious in the carriage. Dr. Wren attends him, but when I left them to come here he was yet unconscious.” He asked, “Where is Wenshurst? Do you know it?”

I nodded and said, “It is my home in London.”

He said, “Oh, yes. Of course I remember now. Do you have any idea who could have done this?” Pain filled my expression as I looked again at the familiar handwriting in the note, and I slowly nodded. He rasped, “So much for the forgiveness of boyhood friends, eh?”

I agreed, and then asked, “How long had the driver been in your employ?”

He winced and replied, “He came to us only last month. He was recommended by Colonel Forster.” I sighed heavily as I considered how to ask what I next desired to know. Fortunately, Mr. Bennet anticipated me. He said, “I wish I had locked Lydia in her room from the moment I told her she was not to go to Brighton until the moment the last dust of the regimental wagons had settled, but I did not. She met with Mrs. Forster the very next day and again yesterday. I am certain that she shared details of your visits to Longbourn and your interest there with her friend. I will ask her about it when I go home to pack.”

I remarked bitterly, “I fear that Colonel Forster is not much of a judge of character.”

Mr. Bennet replied, “I will lock up my remaining daughters now, I assure you.” To my horror he began to weep. “Not that it will do any good. Always too little, too late!” He shook his head, obviously overcome.

Bingley asked, “Has Mrs. Bennet been informed of the situation?”

Mr. Bennet was trembling as he moaned, “Oh, Fanny! I could not even speak after I read the note. I left her without explanation and only with that dotard Lucas to tell her the horrible truth! Her nerves may get the better of her after all, with such neglect.”

I suggested firmly, “It would be best if you go home and reassure her that all will turn out well.” I could see that like his wife, Mr. Bennet required firm counsel.

He asked in a broken tone, “Would you have me lie to her? Fifty thousand pounds? How is half such a sum to be raised?” His voice trailed off as he looked at me.

I replied succinctly, “I will send an express to my steward to begin work on that assignment at once. I suspect the express rider's trustworthiness and know that my house will be watched. But my steward will be able to make arrangements to our advantage regardless of any impediment. The money means little to me in comparison to your daughters' safety. Yet knowing who we are dealing with I have reason to hope we may recover them unharmed without satisfying his greed.” My hands were fists and there was murder in my heart.

Bingley asked, “You believe Mr. Wickham is behind this?” I nodded. He asked, “And why does that make it any more likely that they will not be harmed or that we will not have to pay him?” He jutted out his chin in a way that let me know he'd contribute his share regardless of any objection I might offer.

I replied, “George Wickham is greedy and fairly stupid. He leaves a trail a mile long, like a snail. He is counting on distress to render me ineffective and he is counting on your reputation as a harmless and naďve fellow. He underestimates gentlemen, us in particular. Unless he has made contact with some criminal mastermind in the countryside in the past few days, he is the one we must overcome. If we are willing to leave behind some of our own scruples…”

Bingley glowered, “I could kill him with my bare hands for this.”

I replied quietly, “And I would let you unless I had the chance to do it first.” I assured Mr. Bennet and Bingley, “But know that he places his comfort above all. With so much money at stake he will guard them carefully.” Mr. Bennet seemed comforted though Bingley hardly seemed to hear me, so enraged had he become. I did not voice my surest fear, that while the ladies would be returned to us they would not return untouched, particularly Elizabeth.

When we arrived at Wenshurt that afternoon I was not surprised to see my steward's distress and concern. Nor was I surprised to find my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, in my chambers. My steward had known from the wording of my message, and many years experience with me, that I wanted Fitzwilliam's help. My cousin used secret ways to gain entry to the house, a very old one full of passages that make such behavior simple. Happily, Wickham's experiences with my family had only allowed him entrance to this house once or twice. He did not know its secrets.

Fitzwilliam had been busy. He'd found that Mrs. Forster had gone missing and her husband was surreptitiously searching for her, not wishing to be known for the cuckold he was. While I bore Colonel Forster no ill will, his wife's infidelity comforted me. If Mrs. Forster were involved in the kidnapping scheme, she might occupy time Wickham would otherwise spend with Elizabeth and Jane.

As I'd known he would, Fitzwilliam had acted on my behalf to employ men to investigate Wickham's activities in London. There was obviously no better place for him to be hidden, but he was a lazy creature of habit and we both knew it likely that he would turn to old friends for assistance. His co-conspirator against Georgiana, a Mrs. Younge, was running a boarding house in one of London's lesser neighborhoods. One of the men had called there already and would report to Fitzwilliam the next morning. The home of Wickham's aunt, Livillia Sharp, was under surveillance. There were conflicting reports as to whether he had visited there. If he had, it had been but briefly. And a favorite former paramour, a Mrs. Hedrick, was being watched at the tavern where she served. I noted to myself that George had no male friends of long standing. Any men that were in on his scheme would be there for remuneration only, not from loyalty to him. And one thing I could certainly do was to offer them more money than he could. Fitzwilliam told me he would continued to gather information and would see me again in the morning.

Not eager to face the quiet of night, I went to check on Bingley. I found him cleaning his pistols. I recalled my conversation with Elizabeth about Bingley and remembered her questioning whether I was the better shot. Bingley is perhaps the best marksman I have ever known. Fitzwilliam has been asking for ages for the privilege of shooting against him, but the opportunity has not presented itself. I rarely bet, but I would put my money on Bingley. He is careless in many things, but utterly focused when he has a pistol in his hand. I first saw him one day at school, shooting. I was impressed by his mettle. When I later found him to be perhaps the most amiable friend one could have as well, I knew I'd been very fortunate to make his acquaintance. And of course in this situation he was utterly focused on his goal.

I asked how he was bearing up. He tried to offer a flippant reply, but could not. He said, “I will feel better when we can do something. I have asked my steward to gather funds as my part in the ransom, as I will not allow you bear the whole of it. My pistols are cleaned and balanced. I know I should rest. But my mind won't let me. The worst possibilities come to mind when all is silent. Thoughts of Jane frightened, or being harmed…” He paced restlessly.

I nodded and said harshly, “It is enough to make a man run mad, I know. I dread the silence of my room too. But I know that he's counting on that madness to leave us and them at his mercy.”

Bingley looked at me, more serious than I'd ever seen before. He said, “Nothing will distract me from assuring her safety if the opportunity presents itself.” I only nodded and bid him a good night.

Despite my efforts to urge Bingley to stave off the madness, I was its slave. As I lay down upon my bed, dread images and questions flowed through my mind. Was Elizabeth unharmed? Was she frightened? Had she fought her attackers and thus been hurt? Had Wickham or his cronies taken her innocence? Was her spirit wounded? In my mind's eye, Wickham's thugs included the gypsy men we'd seen on our journey to London. The man who'd so coveted her had her at his mercy.

When there was a knock at my door I gratefully leapt up to answer. My house man stood there, an expression of dismay on his face. He held a small package in his hand and offered it to me, saying, “Mr. Darcy, an urchin brought this just now. I would not have disturbed your rest, but the instructions were that you should be given it immediately, without fail.”

I opened the packet and gasped when two necklaces fell out. They both had garnet crosses, one larger than the other. The chain with the smaller cross, Elizabeth's, was broken as though it had been ripped from her neck. I stared at it and held it carefully in my hand. I thanked the servant and dismissed him. As there was no writing on the packet I saw no reason to disturb the others with this `message.' I laid Miss Bennet's necklace on the dresser. Elizabeth's remained clutched in my hand. Its broken condition made me consider what my reaction would be were Elizabeth defiled by her captors. I stared at it by the flicker of candlelight for the longest time, feeling rage and despair burn through me. After resolving to see it mended at first light, I fell to sleep with it clutched carefully against my heart.

...to be continued...

Chapter 13

It was very early when I awoke. I started as I realized I was not alone. Fitzwilliam and another man had just entered my bedroom by way of the passage entrance in my closet. I felt the necklace still clutched tightly in my hand and gently laid it on the table by my bed. Then I forced remnants of nightmares from my thoughts and I sat up and rubbed my eyes, waiting to hear whatever the men might report.

Fitzwilliam began without preamble, “The boy who delivered a packet late in the night returned to the tavern where Mrs. Hedrick is currently employed. When bribed, he said it was given him by a gentleman who promised to pay him extra on his return, but that the gentleman had not kept his word.”

I rumbled, “Gentleman!” Were I not in my own room I might have spat my contempt.

Fitzwilliam's companion said in a low tone, “Wickham is not staying at Mrs. Younge's. She stays full up. Runs a nice place. She knows how to put on airs. It makes people want to stay there.”

I nodded as I remembered how I'd been deceived by her appearance of goodness; and then I asked, “Where is he staying?”

Fitzwilliam said in a clipped way, “Mrs. Younge has not responded to our inquiries as of yet.” His expression was one of disgust. I knew that his feelings about her part in the affair at Ramsgate were such that Mrs. Younge was the one woman in existence he'd ever considered violence against.

I asked incredulously, “You trust her not to let him know she has heard from you?”

Fitzwilliam growled, “I could not speak to that harridan without doing violence. Mitchell here is dealing with her, paying her silent. Her first concern is her own gain, as ever. She likely suspects he works for you, but has no confirmation. And as you know, we're not the only ones searching for him. Colonel Forster has been unceasing in his efforts, clumsy and wildly done as they are.”

I looked at Mr. Mitchell and stood. I offered him my hand. He briefly looked surprised, but took it and allowed me to shake his hand, his face again expressionless. I said, “I will pay whatever I must for the information on where Wickham is residing.” He nodded. I asked, “Is Mrs. Forster still with him?” I looked away from the two men, ostensibly set on washing my face. Fitzwilliam knew me well enough to hear the tension in my voice, however. I splashed water over my face and grabbed a towel to wipe it dry.

Mitchell's voice was rough, I thought, like gravel. He said, “There was a lady with him when he called at Mrs. Younge's. Don't know after that.”

I briefly, in my despair, considered the possibility that he'd rid himself of the woman so that he might better concentrate on his captives. But her presence lent him respectability, as no one knew they were unmarried. Keeping her with him made disguise easier. He was, after all, a deserter, and deserters are not so often seen to travel with others. Wickham was ever fond of the easy route. How I hoped he had not changed!

I pointed to the necklace on the dresser and the one on the table beside my bed. “The packet he sent had no written message, only those two necklaces.”

Fitzwilliam picked up the necklace on the dresser. “Is this Miss Bennet's?” I nodded. He asked, “Is that one broken?” Again I nodded.

Inconsequentially I mentioned, “I will send Miss Elizabeth's necklace to a jeweler for repair.” Fitzwilliam looked at me oddly then, with pity and something akin to understanding. I looked away, not wishing to reveal the depths of my despair. I changed the subject. “What of Mr. Hedrick? Is he still with his wife?” Fitzwilliam nodded. I pondered this. I remarked, “I am surprised that Wickham is playing his games so dangerously. He travels with his commanding officer's wife, knowing that man seeks him for that and as a deserter. He flirts with the danger of a husband who knows he previously wronged him as he visits the wife. He has gone from mere bad behavior over to the crime of abduction.”

Mitchell cleared his throat and said, “Of course along with his Colonel's wife, he got his fine, large carriage and a very fast team, too. That made transporting the ladies easier. And I even hear that the lady cleaned out her husband's safe for travel funds. Forster's out for blood.” He looked thoughtful and said, “This Wickham's drunk with the possibility of so much coin, I think.”

I nodded. Accustomed as I was to my fortune I had never known what it was to want for money. The only thing I'd ever wanted as much as Wickham apparently desired money was Elizabeth's love. I asked, “Anything else?”

Fitzwilliam said, “He's not been seen at his aunt's home since we began watching there. She may be out of town.”

I nodded slowly and said, “I thank you for your efforts. As to Mrs. Younge, I'd suggest you take the offensive by offering her a reasonably large sum, say five hundred pounds, for quick cooperation.” I saw Mitchell nod slowly as Fitzwilliam's face registered surprise.

Mitchell said, “I will go now. I'll see her later this morning and do as you ask.” He walked back to the closet and let himself out.

After he was gone, Fitzwilliam said, “Darcy, do not worry so. We are watching for him closely. All your men know that if he is seen with the Bennets he is to be detained and they are to be brought to safety. We are closing in on him.”

I only nodded, unable to make a reply. I wondered how Fitzwilliam would fare were the woman in danger the lady he loved. Finally I asked, “And if it were Miss Wright at his mercy?”

He looked at me thunderously, as he ever did when she was mentioned, and apologized yet still urged me to remain as calm as I could.

Breakfast with Bingley and Mr. Bennet was very dull. I shared Fitzwilliam's information with them and soon we all returned to our silent ruminations. When we were alone I gave Bingley Miss Bennet's necklace. I had the other sent to a jeweler for repair, with a request that the work be completed quickly. I hoped to put the necklace where it belonged very soon.

The day dragged slowly by as we waited. I saw the sun's low position in the sky and began again to dread the night and nightmares. Dark thoughts were with me more and more with each passing moment. My steward reported that the ransom money was ready. He brought a large satchel with him, and several footmen as guards, when he came to the house. Soon after that, a report came that Wickham and Mrs. Forster were visiting his aunt's house. They would be followed from there. I prayed that we would soon know where their captives were hidden.

About an hour later an urchin arrived at the door with a message. It read, “You are ready so soon with the ransom? Perhaps we've not asked enough. As I expect you wish proof that they are yet alive I have asked them to pen postscripts and date them. My next message will contain instructions for the exchange.” Below this was the date, written in two different hands, each with a short note.

One said, “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil.” and was signed by Jane Bennet.

Mr. Bennet gasped, “Jane's favorite verse. It's from the book of Jeremiah.” Bingley stared at him.

The other read, “We love you.” and was signed by Elizabeth Bennet.

We all stared at the signatures as Mr. Bennet verified them authentic. I heard a soft knock on the passage door to the room. Mr. Bennet looked confused, but Bingley only watched me calmly. I closed the doors to the hallway and went to the passage door. Mr. Mitchell stood there, breathless. I asked, “What is it, Mitchell?”

He spoke quickly, “The note came from Mrs. Sharpe's house in Hempshire Street. And just before I left to come here, that lady Mrs. Forster left the house.”

My blood ran cold. They were in that house and alone with Wickham. I turned to Bingley. “He is with them. Bring your pistols. Excuse me while I arm myself.” I nodded to Mr. Bennet. “We will have them with us shortly, sir.” I opened the doors and called for a servant to bring our horses immediately. We moved at a run as we gathered arms and left Wenshurt. Mitchell rode with us to guide us to our destination. I resolved that when this was over I would set him up very well indeed. My breath came quickly, fueled by the excitement of finally being released to activity and the terror of what might be happening in Hempshire Street.

Bingley was muttering something. I asked what he said and he replied, “'For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.' A future and a hope! That is how I have always read the 'expected end' mentioned in Jane's verse." I only nodded in reply. For there were no thoughts of peace in me then; I would need to reconcile with my maker at a later time and hope that He forgave me at present.

I did not hesitate once Mitchell pointed out the place. We all dismounted and I ran to the door. Finding it locked, I stood back and kicked it with all my strength. Mitchell joined me. It gave way after the second blow. We ran, pistols drawn, to check every room. As I entered the kitchen I gasped at the shock of the cold from the open cellar. I saw Jane Bennet down in the cellar, bound and gagged, a lantern on the floor of the cellar lighting her features. In panic she motioned with her head and eyes upwards. I heard Bingley moan, “Angel!” as he saw his beloved. I turned and ran for the stairs in search of mine.

At the top of the stairs I saw that one door was closed. I ran to it and found it locked. This door gave way after one solid blow. Within, I stopped and stared. Elizabeth lay on the bed, bound and gagged as her sister had been, though the ropes around her legs had been loosened. Her gown was ripped in the front and Wickham kneeled over her, staring at me stupidly, his pants front opened. I pistol-whipped him with a harsh blow to the head. He reeled, nearly falling. I slammed his face with the pistol again, harder. Bones cracked and blood flew as he slammed against the wall and moaned, “Darcy?” He sounded nothing but surprised. I wasn't sure whether it was more for my presence or the violence of which I was capable.

As he fell unconscious, I did not care. I carefully set my pistol aside and pulled the gag from Elizabeth's mouth. She gasped and coughed. With my hands I wiped the tears from her face. I smoothed her skirt and removed my jacket and laid it over her while I worked on the ropes that bound her hands. The skin of her arms was raw where she'd struggled against the ropes. I finally used a knife to cut Elizabeth free and pulled her to me. She cried, “I had been so sure that you would come. Yet for a moment I thought I'd been wrong. And then you were here!”

I heard shouts from below. I replied, “I have her. She is well!” And then I returned my gaze to Elizabeth, hoping I spoke true. She nodded and clung to me. I held her close, feeling the increased pace of both our hearts. I kissed her forehead and whispered, “I love you.”

I heard Mitchell's raspy voice. He said, “I'll have your carriage brought here, Mr. Darcy.” He turned and pushed past Mr. Bennet then.

I stared at Mr. Bennet, knowing full well that I ought to move away from his daughter, but unable to release her as yet. After a long moment I again kissed her forehead. I said, “Sweetheart, your father is here.” She stiffened against me, but did not release her hold. I accepted the handkerchief Mr. Bennet silently offered and gave it to Elizabeth so that she might dry her tears. Gently, I pulled back from her and stood. I saw Mr. Bennet taking in the details of the scene, Wickham unconscious by the wall and Elizabeth's disheveled condition. There was fear in his eyes and he seemed unable to speak.

After a long moment and more than one attempt at beginning to speak, she finally said in a choked whisper, “Thank God you arrived when you did.”

Mr. Bennet then broke down into great, loud sobbing. Elizabeth reached for my hand. I clasped hers in mine. Tears began anew for her and I gently stroked her cheek with my free hand. I could see that we had indeed arrived just in time to prevent Wickham from fully violating Elizabeth. Yet I did not know what he had already done to her, other than that the bodice of her dress and chemise had been torn. I could not yet know what he'd said to her, how he'd touched her, how he'd damaged her innocence and passion, her spirit. Tears blurred my own eyes as I wished we had arrived even sooner. I finally voiced that thought, “I only wish I'd been here sooner, Elizabeth.”

She gently urged me aside, swung her legs off the bed and said in a tight fashion, “I wish to leave this room.” She turned away from us, stopping for a moment to stare at Wickham's prone form, and she pulled my jacket on over her gown, buttoning it and arranging the fabric so that it better covered her. She wrapped her arms around herself, both for modesty's sake and, I thought, to keep her composure. She said, “Please, Papa. Please don't cry so. All will be well.” I was struck both by her strength and by the self sufficiency her father's innate weakness forced from her. She avoided my gaze and walked slowly from the room. Her father grasped her shoulder and kissed her cheek. I heard her gasp and realized she'd been hurt. Blinding rage flared within me.

I asked in a shaken tone, “May I assist you down the steps, Miss Elizabeth?” She paused, but only shook her head without looking at me. Mr. Bennet walked ahead of her and began talking of the reports we'd received and the men I'd had canvassing the town for her. I saw her nodding as he talked, but wondered whether she heard his words. She moved gingerly, obviously in pain.

As we reached the kitchen she moved through the doorway and crossed quickly to Miss Bennet, who stood and pulled her close with a strangled cry. The two sisters clung to each other and cried together.

Elizabeth said, “Oh, Jane! You are so hot with fever. Sit. Do not waste your strength on me. You are unwell!” She fairly pushed Miss Bennet back to sitting. In the dim light of the room I saw that Miss Bennet did not look well. Her face was bruised and a bit bloodied, and she seemed wan and weakened.

Jane said, “Elizabeth, I was so frightened for you. Did he hurt you?”

Elizabeth's tone was brittle as she replied, “He did me no lasting harm, dear sister. I will be well.” Her expression then was an enigma to me.

Jane cried, “But the awful things he said! The way he tore at you! The things he said he would do to you- and then to me!” I saw Bingley start.

Elizabeth put a finger to her sister's lips and said soothingly, “Shh! Speak not of such things. Think not on what was said. We are safe now.” She kissed Jane's cheek and knelt, holding to her tightly.

I found that I was shaking again with rage and a renewed sense of helplessness. It seemed that we'd waited an age for the opportunity to act and then that moment had passed, leaving me yet ready to do something useful. Suddenly there was a noise behind me and I turned to see that I faced the barrel of Wickham's pistol.

...to be continued...

Chapter 14

While Wickham possessed the element of surprise, he was injured and not a very good shot to begin with. Bingley proved that he was not only the better shot, but of much faster reflex. The shot he'd thought of making over the past days was spent and Wickham fell, his own bullet sent wildly into the ceiling. As he hit the ground I saw that Bingley had hit him cleanly in the right shoulder. His arm would be rendered useless most likely, but the wound was not mortal unless we chose to leave him unattended, an idea which presented no little temptation to me. Bingley shoved me aside and took Wickham's pistol and pocketed it. He searched Wickham and found another pistol inside his jacket and took that one, too. I apologized that I'd not thought to do the same before. Bingley only looked at me witheringly. Wickham was yet conscious, whimpering and crying. Suddenly Bingley jerked him up and slapped him full across the face as hard as he could. I heard the ladies gasp and Miss Bennet begin to cry again. Bingley hit Wickham again and we could all feel his rage building, not abating.

Both ladies stood. Miss Bennet cried, “Please, Charles! He only struck me once. Let God be his judge! Here on earth let him be accused and tried and punished for his crimes. Be not his executioner, my love.” He stared at her, breathing hard as he balanced her words against his rage. She added, “For my sake, do not fall to the temptation.”

Bingley slowly nodded and released his hold on Wickham. He asked Mr. Bennet to look around to see if there was any rope or something else that could be used to restrain Wickham until he could be handed over to the authorities. Mr. Bennet only stared, seemingly uncomprehending. Elizabeth pointed to where Wickham had left rope after he'd tied them up and Bingley, none too gently, tied Wickham in the same way he'd done the ladies. I saw that Elizabeth was right. Miss Bennet was not well. Apparently they'd been held in the root cellar, where it was very cold and damp. I closed the door to the cellar.

I saw Elizabeth sink onto the chair next to Jane, still holding to her. They whispered together, tears flowing. Mr. Bennet sat in the chair furthest from them and held his head in his hands. Bingley dragged Wickham to another room so that the ladies would not have to bear the sight of him. Blood stained the floor behind him. I stood and stared at Elizabeth, almost unable to believe that we were in the same room and that she was no longer in danger.

Finally, Mitchell returned. He notified me that my carriage awaited us. Bingley returned and walked past me. He gently urged Elizabeth back from her sister and picked Jane up in his arms. She protested weakly, but he did not heed her words. He merely kissed her cheek and whispered comfort to her. She was wracked by a harsh cough. Mr. Bennet pulled himself to his feet and followed them, mute and withdrawn. Elizabeth looked after Jane, almost as though unseeing. I said gently, “Elizabeth?”

Finally she turned her gaze to me. I could see from her expression that she was so accustomed to independence that she was unsure of how to behave in this circumstance. I realized that it was only in her sleep and on the edge of that vulnerable state that I'd seen her strongly react to the fear of what we'd faced before. I also saw that she would resent it were I to attempt what Bingley had just done. She and her sister were very different women. I bowed to her with formal respect and asked, “Miss Elizabeth, may I escort you to the carriage?” as I offered my arm. I was rewarded with a ghost of a smile as she silently accepted. I even felt her lean against me a bit and I helped her as she allowed. I resolved that my physician would see Elizabeth as soon as possible. Beyond that I knew not how to help.

The ladies were seated and the driver instructed to proceed with the utmost care. Mitchell sat on the outside of the carriage, gun out and primed, with Wickham lashed to the box beside him. Mr. Bennet sat between Bingley and the corner of the carriage, hunched and haggard. I fought against my impatient resentment of him as I thought of how I would act were Georgiana in the same state as this man's daughters.

And I wondered if I were any better than Mr. Bennet. I had been careless of Wickham, so distracted had I allowed myself to become by Elizabeth's distress. I had nearly paid for it with my life. I turned to Bingley and said, “Charles, I thank you for saving my life.”

Bingley looked self conscious, but nodded his acceptance and said, “Think nothing of it. I know you would have done the same for me.” I smiled grimly as I nodded acknowledgment of that truth.

Mr. Bennet managed to murmur, “Yes. Fine, strong men, unlike the girls' father.”

I was deeply embarrassed and knew not how to reply. I realized that typically in such a moment one of Mr. Bennet's daughters would have exerted herself to fill the silence and smooth over the awkwardness. Neither was able now, understandably. Finally, I offered, “You are too hard on yourself, sir. Rough confrontation is a younger man's province.”

He looked at me oddly and shrugged, saying, “Yes, well…”

The sun was nearly gone now. I was desperately relieved that the ladies were out of harm's way and I would not face another night of fearful imaginings. Yet as I looked over at Elizabeth, her drawn face now in shadow, I wondered when I would learn what had befallen her and how I could be of help.

When we reached Wenshurst House I said, “There are rooms prepared for you, ladies.”

Mr. Bennet roused himself enough to say, “We ought to stay with my brother Gardiner and not trouble you, Mr. Darcy.”

I dissented, “It is no trouble, Mr. Bennet. You are already settled here, and it would not be good to move the ladies further. I have access to the best of physicians and will have him here shortly to attend them. There is plenty of room for all of you to rest very comfortably. Please, I beg you to accept my hospitality.”

Elizabeth spoke quietly, “I have no need of a physician.”

I was stunned silent for a second, but responded fervently, “You have been through an ordeal, Miss Elizabeth, kept in unwholesome conditions and treated roughly. Even if he only is able to assist you by offering something that might aid your rest, I would feel remiss if I did not make my physician available to you.” While I did not wish to provoke, I was immovable on this subject.

Jane rasped, “I thank you, Mr. Darcy. I should be grateful for such attention and I'm certain that Elizabeth will humor me when I request that she see your physician as well.” In the darkness I could only see Elizabeth's profile as she turned to look at her sister, but I could well imagine her defiant expression. Also through the dim light I could see that the sisters clutched each other's hands.

I assured them, “I will see that you are given rooms that are close together.”

Elizabeth replied softly, “Thank you.”

I could not resist the temptation. I replied, “I am at your service.” She did not respond. I thought a moment later that I saw her wipe a tear from her cheek.

I had Bingley and Mr. Bennet take the ladies inside, guided by Mrs. Windham. I conferred with Mitchell as to what was to be done with Wickham. Wickham moaned and whimpered in pain from his wounds. I longed to pull him down from the carriage and beat him until he wailed, and hardly dared looked at him lest I give in to provocation. As we talked I saw a man approaching on horseback. It was Colonel Forster. I greeted him. He called out, “Good evening, Mr. Darcy. I heard about the abduction and wished to see where your house was so that I might call here tomorrow and offer my services.”

I stepped forward and said, “I thank you, Colonel Forster. That is most kind. However, we have found Lieutenant Wickham and the Bennet ladies. They are safely within my house now.”

He stared at me for a moment. Then he asked, “And what of Wickham?”

I gestured to the back of the coach, where Wickham sat, and said, “We have sent for the constable. He will be charged. I imagine they will want your testimony about his desertion from your regiment.” My voice trailed off as I looked at the Colonel. His expression was inscrutable. He moved his horse so that he could see Wickham and drew and cocked his pistol as he stated tersely, “As you say, the lieutenant is a deserter, therefore subject to military authority. I will take charge of him now and hand him over to the Provost Marshal.” Turning to face Wickham, he asked, “And what of my wife, Lieutenant?”

Wickham looked at his Colonel with evident contempt, and was not smart enough to keep his silence. Surly and foolish as ever, he snarled, “I thank you for the pleasure, Colonel!”

Colonel Forster shot. Unlike Bingley, he did not aim to wound. I could see instantly that Wickham was dead. I was stunned. Mitchell held out his hand and said, “Please lower your weapon and hand it over, Colonel. We will wait with you for the constable. Hopefully he will hear your extenuating circumstances with some measure of understanding. Your wife stays in a boarding house in Weatherton Place, according to information we bought. We can have her brought to you.” Colonel Forster shook his head, turned his horse away and rode off at a gallop.

I looked at Wickham. Wishing someone ill and seeing them murdered are two different things, yet I could not regret anything but the potential he'd squandered. When younger, he'd seemed so credible and so good that my father had believed him destined for the church, had loved him. I was glad my father had not lived to see how his favorite had turned out. His disappointment in the turn of events would have been far more considerable than my own. Without another word, I went into the house.

Inside, Bingley asked, “Was that gunfire? What happened?”

I knew I must look shocked. I replied, “Colonel Forster found us. He killed Wickham.”

Bingley nodded slowly. I paused to ask that my physician be summoned for the ladies. We walked together to the salon. Mr. Bennet stood near the doorway. His voice shaken, he asked, “What was that noise?”

I looked at Elizabeth as I replied, “Colonel Forster called. I'm afraid that the sight of Wickham… well…”

Elizabeth asked, “Is he dead?” I nodded. She nodded too and said nothing else. She left her sister's side and moved to the window to look out at the gardens.

Jane coughed and said, “Oh, poor man! Colonel Forster must have been driven mad by his wife's betrayal.”

Bingley and I exchanged a look of rueful understanding. I returned my gaze to Elizabeth, standing apart from us with her arms wrapped tightly about her body. Mrs. Windham entered the room with a tray of food and drinks. Both Jane and Elizabeth were obviously needful of refreshment. I saw Elizabeth take a cup of warm milk and hold it between her hands to warm them. She slowly ate the good biscuits. Jane murmured, “How I longed for good food!”

I asked, “When did you last eat?” The sisters glanced at each other and did not answer. My dismay showed as I conjectured, “You have not eaten since you were abducted?”

It was as though the fury came over me in waves. I was almost disappointed that Wickham now lay dead. I wished I'd taken the chance to harm him more. And then I felt exhaustion at the thought. I wished to weep from relief that Elizabeth and her sister were at last here with us, safe. I also wished to take her in my arms and hold her. I felt sympathy with Mr. Bennet as he sat and stared at his daughters, tears in his eyes.

I spoke nervously, “I will see to it that refreshment is brought to your rooms that you might partake if you awake hungry or thirsty during the night. Your every need, and whim, will be met. If you wish anything at any time you may call on the staff. They will be more than happy to assist, regardless of the hour.” Miss Bennet thanked me. Elizabeth only looked at me. I could not fathom her expression and it unbalanced me.

Dr. Crain arrived. He'd been the Darcy family physician nigh thirty years, always an imposing figure to me. He was a man of few words, but very learned. I respected his dedication to his craft, his interest in new methods, and his lack of pretense. He spent time with each of the ladies, first Miss Bennet and then Elizabeth. Mrs. Windham accompanied him and took note of his recommendations.

After he left Miss Bennet and while he was taking refreshment before seeing Miss Elizabeth, Mrs. Windham notified me that he'd recommended that Miss Bennet not be moved. He'd indicated that she was of delicate constitution, prone to infections such as the one which gripped her at the moment. With peace and quiet, rest, good nourishment, his medicines and his continued attention she would be well again soon, he thought.

I paced my study as he met with Elizabeth, anxious to hear his report. Though I was not her family, I was his employer, and he would report first to me. I noted that he came to me himself and did not allow Mrs. Windham to make his report. He tersely said, “Though abused, Miss Elizabeth was not violated, sir. Yet had you arrived even a moment later that would be different. She would not tell me much, but her wounds speak the story.” I sat and indicated for him to do the same. I did not trust my legs to support me through what he would say next. In clinical and cold language he detailed bruises, cuts and bite wounds. His words traced the path of Wickham's infamy across Elizabeth's body. He talked quietly and sought to avoid inflammatory description, but as he spoke of the finger-shaped bruise marks on Elizabeth's knees I closed my eyes. I recalled the scene when I'd entered the room. He'd knelt over her and his hands had been at her knees. She'd admitted that in the moment just before I arrived she'd given up hope that I would be there for her. The doctor anticipated my reaction and held a waste receptacle before me as I began to vomit.

I sat there, head reeling, knowing how near Wickham had been to ruining her, how he'd degraded her. All I could think of was her feelings, her terror. As through a fog I could hear Dr. Crain saying, “The rogue's intentions to cause you harm were thwarted.” His assumption, logical by the standard of most, was infuriating to me.

I rasped, “I am not concerned with harm meant me, sir.”

He handed me a drink and said no more. He nodded approvingly, I thought, and said, “I will remain here for the night, sir. I have given the young ladies each a sleeping draught. I will attend them again in the morning, if it pleases you.” I nodded and swallowed some of the drink.

I asked, “Would you be so kind as to give a general report on the health of both ladies to their father. Mr. Bennet awaits you in the library. A very general report will do. It is not necessary to detail injuries, Miss Elizabeth's in particular.”

He nodded and bowed to me and left. I finished the drink. I then completed the message I'd held and gave it to a servant for express post to Longbourn. I would see that Mrs. Bennet's anxieties were relieved, as best I could and as quickly as possible. A separate message was sent to Gracechurch St. Unfit to see anyone at present, I went to my chamber. As I passed Elizabeth's room, I heard her door being locked from the inside. I frowned as I considered her state of mind.

Once in my rooms, I gratefully sank into the bath my valet had prepared. I saw blood on my arm as I began to wash, Wickham's blood I supposed. I scrubbed my arms thoroughly, rinsed and scrubbed again. As enjoyable as it was to get clean, the day's events ran through my minds, along with the doctor's report. I dressed for bed, but sat by the fire instead of climbing beneath the covers. I could not concentrate to read, yet I could not stop thinking of all that had happened. While the earlier part of the day had passed uneventfully, the late afternoon and evening contained much that agitated. I kept thinking of Elizabeth, how withdrawn and alone she'd seemed.

Finally, I admitted the truth to myself. I would not sleep until I had seen that she slept, that she was peaceful. I hoped that she had taken the sleeping draught Crain had prepared, but I knew not. Until I knew that she felt safe I could not rest. I changed into trousers and a shirt. Then I went through the passage door in my closet, candle in hand for illumination. I knew the passages well, having spent many hours in them as a child playing my games of pretend. I also knew which room Elizabeth had been given. The passage entrance came into the room alongside the fireplace. I quietly eased the door open. I peered into the room and found that Elizabeth was sitting close by the fire on the loveseat, staring at me with look of fright. She wore a sleeping gown and a shawl. Her hair was loose about her shoulders. One foot was tucked beneath her.

I whispered, “Please, do not be afraid. I am sorry to intrude on your privacy. I hoped to assure myself that you slept and were well. I am very sorry.” I bowed and started to close the door and leave.

She looked at me strangely, but said, “Please, come in.” She looked nonplussed and said, “I am uncertain of the proper etiquette where secret passages are concerned.”

I grinned ruefully and admitted, “Secret passage etiquette lessons were attempted with me as a child, the main lesson being to avoid their use, but I regret to say that I failed them rather spectacularly. I have always found the passages too tempting.” Her faint smile was at odds with the sadness in her eyes. I stepped into the room and closed the passage door. I asked, “Are you well? Is there anything I can do for you?”

She looked at me oddly, but only replied, “I would like it if you would sit with me, if it is not an imposition.”

I moved to the seat next to her and sat down gingerly. I did not want to carelessly harm or frighten her. I could not keep the list of her wounds from repetition in my thoughts. I shifted away that I would not inadvertently touch the bruises on her left thigh, next to me. I shifted my eyes that she would not see me noticing the bruises visible at the neckline of her gown. I was silent as my thoughts raced.

After a moment I saw her wipe a tear from her cheek. Concerned, I asked, “Elizabeth?”

She glanced at me and then turned away, saying, “You confirm my expectation that you can bear the sight of me no longer. I do not hold you to blame, sir. Recent events were too awful not to have a profound effect. You cherished an… innocence… I no longer possess. Please go.” And she burst into tears.

I shook my head vigorously and then realized she did not see me. I spoke in a low tone. “Elizabeth, when he sent your broken necklace it caused me to consider what you speak of now. And I realized that while I would be deeply anguished and furious were Wickham to harm you and… take your innocence, my hatred of him pales in comparison with my love for you.” I paused and swallowed hard. Heartbroken, I rasped, “I thought I had gotten there in time to prevent him…” Now my tears came. “I am sorry that I failed you.”

She was quiet, though her breathing came quickly. She said, “No. You did not fail me. You did prevent… his attempt. But he did other things to me… kissed me… touched me… spoke to me… in ways that were… abhorrent.” Her voice grew softer with each word.

I admitted slowly, “I know much of what was done.”

She asked with puzzled dismay, “How could you?”

I explained, “At my request, Dr. Crain told me of your wounds.”

She looked offended and embarrassed. “That was an invasion of my privacy, Mr. Darcy!” Her face was red with resentment.

I started to speak and then stopped. I could offer no excuse. I hesitated and said, “I apologize.”

She closed her eyes and sat back. Finally she asked, “Why did you come to me?”

I replied, “I love you and I want you to be well. I want to be near you.”

I saw that there were tears in her eyes again. She sat unmoving for a very long time. Finally, she asked, “Will you hold me?” I nodded, not trusting myself to speak, utterly thankful that she wanted what I so desperately needed. She lay much as she had that day in the woods, first leaning sideways against me, then allowing me to cradle her in my arms. I heard her hiss in pain as a bruise on her upper arm pressed against me. She turned towards me and folded one arm so that her hand pressed against my chest. I leaned down and kissed her forehead gently. After a time, I felt her relax and heard her breathing change. I dozed some too. A long time later, I carefully stood with her cradled against me and went to lay her down on her bed. As I pulled my arms out from under her so I could stand and back away, she woke with a start, pushing at me and fighting as for her life.

I choked out, “Elizabeth! It is Will. You are safe!” I stood back from her.

She stilled and rolled to face away from me, shaken with silent sobs. I stayed utterly still, not knowing what I could do for her. She began to speak, “I could not fall to sleep here earlier, thinking of this afternoon. Somehow as I was at the edge of sleep, my mind could not escape it.”

I suggested, “Perhaps you should take the sleeping draught the doctor left.”

She shook her head and shuddered, “And be unable to awaken from my nightmares?”

I asked, “Do you often have nightmares?”

She nodded and said, “I dream almost every night. Whether nightmare or pleasant dream, I have exceedingly vivid images in my mind at night. Do you dream?” She rolled back to look at me.

I smiled slightly and dared, “Most of my vivid and pleasant dreams are of you.”

She managed a pert reply, “Only most?” Then her smile faded and she again turned from me.

I was confused by this, so I offered the plain truth. “Sometimes I dream that I am flying or that I am a child again. You are not in those dreams. But, more often, I dream that we are alone together.” She let out a choked sob that seemed mixed with a laugh. I spoke more quietly, “I realize that I have been very selfish today. I feared you'd not tell me what had happened, so I had the doctor do so. I hoped you might need me tonight, so I invaded the privacy of your room. I apologize.”

She rolled on to her back and looked at me, her expression inscrutable. “Are you sorry you came to me?”

I frowned slightly as I confessed, “Only if it pains you. I am glad of any time I spend with you. As I said, I'm rather selfish where you are concerned. Because I already feel wedded to you in my heart I act as though I have a right to be alone with you like this. My behavior merits severe reproach and yet I cannot truly regret it.”

She wiped tears from her cheeks and said, “I am glad you are here.” She looked at me for a long moment. Then she said, “I sometimes dream of flying, or rather of being able to make astonishing leaps and bounds that are like flight.”

I asked, “Do you ever dream of being a child again? Of being held by your mother?”

She said slowly, “No; but perhaps I take my mother for granted since I still have her.”

I nodded and said, “I suppose that is possible.”

She paused and then asked, “Will you hold me again or do I ask too much?”

I was puzzled by her attitude as I replied, “I would be delighted. I only brought you to the bed because I thought it would do you well to rest there. I thought you might benefit from a long period of sleep.” I started to return to the love seat, expecting her to go with me.

She said, “I would like to lay here.” I stopped and stared at her. She laughed slightly and said, “Oh, dear. I have shocked you.” I shook my head as I slowly walked back to the bed, as though in a dream. She moved over and I gingerly lay next to her. She moved so that she lay against my side, her head resting on my chest. I felt her breath against my neck and I closed my eyes against the sweet sensations. I could feel the softness of her body as she nestled against me. I was suddenly very aware of her femininity and of the desire I had long felt for her. She leaned up to whisper, “Your heart is pounding very quickly.” Her breath tickled my neck and ear most pleasantly.

I groaned aloud. In a slightly strangled tone I replied, “I should think so.” I remained completely still with my eyes closed. I felt her move one leg up over mine and I barely stifled a whimper of desire. I was determined not to behave in a manner which would betray my lurid feelings for her, not on the heels of what she'd experienced earlier in the day. I could not believe that she would wish to know what I was thinking. I managed to ask, “Are you comfortable?” She snuggled a bit closer and I bit the inside of my cheek to distract myself from the pleasure of being so close to her. Finally I opened my eyes.

I saw that her eyes twinkled with delight. I was completely perplexed. She blushed as she saw my expression and laughed, “You may well wonder at my delight, I think. I am only happy to find that you are behaving as a gentleman, and a loving one at that. I feared… well it is enough to say that I feared otherwise.” And with that she sweetly kissed my cheek and pulled back slightly, still close to me, but not so intimately entwined. Again I felt her begin to relax. I realized that she was exhausted and truly that I was, too. I allowed myself the luxury of lightly stroking her back. After a few moments she wearily leaned up and kissed my lips. I gently returned her kiss and caressed her cheek tenderly. She whispered, “Good night, my love.”

I smiled and replied, “Good night, my love.”

Chapter 15

Though I was exhausted in both mind and body, I could not entirely escape the horrors of the day. In my dreams I was in Hempshire Street but I could not open the door to the upstairs room. I heard screams and cries within, but could not reach her. Then the door opened and I cried out in horror at the sight of him hurting Elizabeth. Wickham was dead, yet not dead, a true creature of nightmare.

Suddenly I was aware that Elizabeth was trying to wake me, leaning over me and calling to me softly as she shook me by the shoulder. I heard my cry of “No!” as I became conscious of my surroundings. My breath came fast and without thought I pulled her to me tightly and cried, “Oh, thank God you are safe!” I heard her gasp and quickly released her, saying urgently, “I'm sorry! Did I hurt you?”

She lay beside me and after a moment replied, “No, I am well enough.”

I threw off the covers and walked back and forth before the fire as my heartbeat began to slow to its normal pace. I breathed deeply as I sought to quell my sense of agitation. I turned to see her watching me intently and swallowed hard before saying, “I am sorry.”

She smiled slightly as she sat up and urged, “Come back to bed.” I sat on the edge of the bed and willed the dark thoughts from my mind. She urged me to lie beside her and smoothed the covers over me and kissed my cheek. Then she lay against me and lightly stroked my hair.

Guiltily impatient with myself, I said, “I only imagined an ordeal. You lived one. I should be the one to offer you comfort!”

She shook her head and kissed me. “We should comfort one another, Will.” I relaxed and sighed with pleasure at her touch. Every so often she kissed my cheek or my head. Desire for more from her simmered within me, but I stayed still. After a while I started to pull her to me more tightly, but hesitated for fear of aggravating her wounds. She kissed my lips and said, “I would like for you to hold me, too. Trust me to let you know if I am uncomfortable.” I nodded sleepily and carefully did as she asked. I heard her murmuring, “All is well. All is well.” Awash in the comfort of her soothing gestures and the great pleasure of her nearness I finally slept again.

As light began to fill the room I awoke aware that I was not in my bed and that Elizabeth lay curled against me, an intoxicating state of affairs. I hoped not to awaken her, but as I pulled away her eyes opened. For a brief moment she looked confused, but then she smiled at me and said, “Good morning.”

I kissed her lightly and said, “I hope you will rest longer. I must leave your chamber before I am missed in my own or someone comes to check on you.” I stood and moved away from the bed.

She commented, “My door is locked.”

I said, “I know. I passed as you locked it last night. I realized then that you were yet fearful.” She only nodded, looking at me thoughtfully. I bowed to her and said, “I will see you shortly. Good morning.” I made my way to the passage.

When I entered my room I was displeased to find Fitzwilliam asleep on the chaise before the fire. I considered pretending that I'd entered long before and slept in my own bed, but I abhor disguise of any sort. I walked past him and sat on a chair. He roused and asked, “Dare I ask where you have been?”

I looked at him with a wry expression and said, “I would prefer you not do so. I hope you realize it is no longer necessary for you to skulk about the house through secret byways. You may enter through regular doors and traverse common hallways.” My words were spoken sarcastically.

He smiled and said teasingly, “I would miss out on so much of interest that way!”

I smiled slightly and said, “I am disposed to be indulgent with you for your good services of the past few days and in hopes of maintaining your discretion.” As I sipped some water I offered with a grimace, “You are not noted for your discretion, however.”

He chuckled, “No, but the knowledge I now possess is not of the kind to slip into polite conversation, the method by which my most serious transgressions most often occur. Even I am not so indiscreet as to ask Mr. Bennet if he cares to know where you spent the night…” He looked at me with a raised eyebrow. Then he asked, “I hope Miss Elizabeth is well?”

I sighed and shook my head, “She is not truly well, Cousin. She was greatly wronged. Not so badly as if I'd arrived any later, but greatly wronged all the same. I have the feeling that Wickham used his most practiced talent of all, mixing truth and lies in words he spoke to her. There are questions she is not asking of me, yet bits and pieces of suspicion and fear are coming to light. He has again given me much to overcome, I think.”

He nodded and said, “He was a snake, the vile wretch.”

I rubbed my eyes and said, “Then you know of his death.”

He nodded slowly and then said laughingly, “I did not spend the night in sleep's sweet embrace.” I glared at him. He smiled and informed me, “The driver who conspired with him was brought to justice. Those who knew of his past actions were not surprised by his current complicity.”

I said, “Oh! That is why you are here.”

He explained, “I did not think you would want some things spoken of in front of your guests.”

I agreed and asked, “What of Mrs. Forster?”

“Her husband found her before we arrived,” he replied. “She is gone. I know not what will become of them, but suspect he will flee abroad. She is perhaps better off with him than alone, but perhaps not.”

I was silent for a time. Finally I said, “I owe you more than I can ever repay, Fitzwilliam. You, in your thoroughness, saw to it that the Sharpe house was watched and that action averted tragedy. Thank you for your help.”

He was serious as he said, “You are welcome. I am glad that things turned out well.” He looked a bit dismayed as he continued, “I must insist that you be more of a gentleman where the lady is concerned, however. You are not even engaged!”

I chuckled, “Not for want of effort, I assure you.”

He asked, “Have you proposed?”

I sidestepped his question and replied, “I had asked for, and been promised, a private interview the day she disappeared.”

He was quiet for a moment. He admitted, “I am envious. She is delightful. If I were not a second son…”

I said sharply, “If you were not a second son you would already be married.”

He smiled sadly and said, “I will allow the likelihood of that.” We both thought of the lady who possessed his heart. Miss Victoria Wright, a lady not yet twenty years of age, had entered Fitzwilliam's life two seasons past. She possessed a modest dowry, not enough for her father to allow her to wed a man with little more to offer than a military income. And her father's ill health prevented her from being out much these days, much less of a mind to defy him.

I continued, “And were you not, I would fight any inclination you showed towards Elizabeth with all my being. She is meant for me, I swear it. I thought before that I cared for her, but it has only been since our time together on the road from Kent that I even knew what it was to love. I was but a selfish being before that. She has awakened my heart more fully than I'd ever known possible.”

He groaned, “Oh! Darcy you are in a deplorable state. You'll be no fun to be around from now on, ever mooning after your lady or happily besotted with the pleasure of her presence. You must ask again for that private interview, and soon.”

I admitted, “I wish it had already taken place. But I will not place my needs ahead of hers. She has been through a frightening ordeal. She must heal. Trust me, though, that when I know she will hear me I will declare myself and beg for her hand.”

He looked a bit skeptical as he asked, “Beg?”

I replied wryly, “Grovel, if need be.”

He shook his head and said, “I never thought I'd see the day you'd be so far fallen. I may be ill!”

I laughed at him and said, “Was there anything else or may I prepare for the day?”

He said, “I will remain here at Wenshurst despite your sad state. My mother has been matchmaking again and I'll have none of it. I will not return to the house until the very wealthy young lady in question has returned home with her family.”

I said, “You are welcome for as long as need be. And I will endeavor not to sicken you with my delight in my lady.” I took another sip of water. “What do you find so objectionable about the young lady your mother likes for you?” I left unsaid the fact that she was obviously not his Miss Wright.

He said, “Horrible breath, unintelligent and lacking in charm. I'm better off here. Fear not. I shall take amusement in laughing at you. You have always been so proud that you were never hit by Cupid's bolt that I must now delight in your downfall.”

I then prepared for the day, directing my valet to take care with my appearance. I wished to appear at my best.

When I entered the breakfast room I found Elizabeth at table with her father. I bid them both good morning and then said, “I had hoped you would rest most of the day, Miss Elizabeth.”

She only shook her head. Then she said, “Please do not think my restlessness reflects ill on your hospitality, Mr. Darcy. I fear that my mind still races with the alarm of recent events.” She blushed as she admitted this last.

Mr. Bennet said carelessly, “I hope you will not be silly in the example of your mother, child.” Elizabeth stiffened slightly

I struggled not to look at the man with disbelief at his unfeeling reaction. I said, “I am sorry that is true, Miss Elizabeth. It is easy to understand.” She would not meet my eyes.

Fitzwilliam joined us then. He was welcomed heartily by Mr. Bennet. Elizabeth seemed happy to see him again and thanked him for his help. Bingley joined us next. He immediately asked for an update on Miss Bennet's condition. As the gentlemen talked together I saw that Elizabeth was again withdrawing from conversation, almost brooding. I could not have imagined such a sight but for its appearance before my eyes.

When the house man announced Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner I was pleased by the delight on Elizabeth's face. I regarded the pair with curiosity and was happy to find them as sensible and pleasant as any people I'd ever met. Mr. Gardiner was solicitous of Elizabeth without showing her any disrespect. Mrs. Gardiner was warm and amiable to us all. I had great hope that they, especially Mrs. Gardiner, might be able to give comfort to their niece.

Elizabeth took Mrs. Gardiner up to visit Miss Bennet. After a while we were informed that Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth would take refreshment together in the upstairs parlor and would not join us for some time. Mr. Bennet made yet another dismissive comment on female nerves that incensed me. I walked over to the window and looked out at the gardens, breathing in and out slowly to regain my sense of calm. Mr. Gardiner came and joined me, commenting, “What a wonderful aspect! I offer my admiration of your gardens, sir. Indeed, Wenshurst House as a whole is a gem. I've long wished to see it inside. I am glad for the chance to do so.”

I nodded my appreciation and said, “Thank you, sir. If you please, I could offer you a tour.”

He smiled and said, “I would be honored. You need not go to such trouble yourself. A servant will do well enough for me.”

I assured him, “It would be no trouble. I am proud of Wenshurst and glad for the opportunity to share it with one who has such interest.”

As we walked together and talked I was amazed that he could be related by blood to Mrs. Bennet. I was not at all surprised to find him related to Miss Bennet or Elizabeth, however. I realized that he and his wife must have had a hand in forming the wonderful ladies those two had become. He was a man of sense and education, kind and genial too. As we reached the privacy of my billiard room he said, “I apologize for my brother Bennet. He tends toward more sarcastic and wry comments than ever when disturbed. You must allow that the events of the past several days have left him much so.”

I paused and replied, “I understand that he feels deeply for his daughters and was sick with worry for them. I saw evidence of such again and again. Still, it is hard to see how his comments embarrass and give pain. I have the utmost admiration and respect for Miss Elizabeth.”

Mr. Gardiner smiled congenially, “I understand your feelings, sir. Elizabeth has long been a favorite of my heart. As you honor her, please remember that she is very fond of her father. It is safe to say that she is his favorite child and aware of the fact. I think that when he demonstrates his sarcastic wit or natural insouciance she is most hurt as she thinks it a failing on her part, as though she ought to be able to rouse him to better. Elizabeth takes a great deal upon herself.”

I was silent for some time, but for minimal descriptions of several rooms and features of the house. Finally I said, “Thank you, sir. I had not thought of Miss Elizabeth's relationship with her father in such a way. I allow my own concern to blind me. A fresh perspective is helpful.”

He looked at me seriously. “Mr. Darcy, you obviously care a great deal about my niece. You have assisted her in difficult circumstance, both now and during your journey from Kent. Moreover, I can see it in your interactions with her. I understand that you began courting her recently. After meeting you I am pleased by that fact. Elizabeth is not a simple girl. She is witty and she is independent. Her circumstances have formed her so. I do not presume to know more than I do, about her or anyone else. But I know that I have always hoped she would find someone who would value not only her safety, but her spirit as well.”

I paused to consider my response. Finally I said, “Her spirit is the quality that first drew me to her. If she will allow me to, I will do all in my power to nurture it. I promise you.”

Mr. Gardiner looked embarrassed and said, “I am sorry. I should not presume to her father's place.”

As I thought it well that someone do so, I only looked down and then murmured, “My promise stands, sir.” He nodded his acceptance and we continued our exploration of Wenshurst House. As we neared the upstairs parlor I pointed to the entrance, but moved away, noting, “We do well to give the ladies their privacy.”

As we went down the hallway, he stopped suddenly and moved back. I saw him excitedly examining a crack in the wall. He asked, “Is it true then? Is there a network of hidden passageways? I thought I heard Colonel Fitzwilliam mention that earlier.” I smiled and pressed the mechanism that opened that door.

My reply echoed off the wall of the passage before us, “The house was built in the days of Mary Tudor. As my ancestors had adopted the then `new faith' of the Church of England some measures of extra security were deemed necessary.”

He asked, “Are these burn marks?” I replied that they were and spoke of the fires that had laid claim to parts of the house over the centuries. He peered into the dark passageway. I called for a servant to bring us candles. Then I handed one to Mr. Gardiner and kept one for myself. I continued detailing the history of the house as we made our way.

I could hear the faint sound of feminine voices and wondered greatly what Elizabeth was confiding to her aunt, but again I led Mr. Gardiner away from the upstairs parlor. Instead I took him out the passage entrance by a guest room just beyond those occupied currently. As I entered the hallway I saw Bingley furtively leaving Miss Bennet's room. I prevented Mr. Gardiner from seeing this by turning his attention back to the torch holders along the passage walls, telling him of how one might mark their progress through the house by counting the torches. I backed out of the passage into the hallway as Mr. Gardiner commented on the passages. Bingley now came towards me. I looked at him with apparent anger. He whispered, “If I had known a more clandestine way…”

I finished his phrase, “Then you would have been caught by us for certain.” He looked annoyed.

Mr. Gardiner exited the passage. He said, “Mr. Bingley! Mr. Darcy was just showing me the inner workings of this fine house. Have you toured the hidden passages? He tells me that they date back to the time of Mary Tudor.”

Bingley looked at me with thinly veiled annoyance. “Darcy has not shown me the passages. I knew that Colonel Fitzwilliam and Darcy's servant Mitchell had a way to conceal their entrance to the house and gain access to Darcy without anyone being the wiser, but no details.” He looked petulant and I nearly laughed. I could certainly understand that he desired a way to spend time with Miss Bennet away from the scrutiny of others. I did not look at Mr. Gardiner in that moment, suspecting that he understood as well.

I promised, “I will show you now, if you wish it, Bingley.” He followed us back into the passage and under the interested eye of Mr. Gardiner, I awkwardly tutored Bingley on the mechanisms and navigation of the passages, explaining how one might use the torches to verify their position.

On returning to the salon, we found that Elizabeth and her aunt had rejoined the party. Elizabeth still seemed a bit withdrawn, but more weary than brooding now. I thought that she had been crying. I studied her carefully, wishing I could speak with her privately immediately and more than anything wishing that I could cause her to smile and laugh. I felt her aunt's gaze on me and turned to that lady questioningly. She smiled kindly.

Mr. Gardiner told the others of the tour I'd given. I saw Elizabeth looking at him with interest as he spoke of the passages. Mr. Bennet joined in the discussion by relating stories he'd read of the terror of Mary Tudor's bloody reign. He was not an admirer of any of that `monstrous regiment of women' as Knox had described the times when England was ruled by Tudor queens and Scotland by the Stuart queen. I queried him as to his opinions of the accomplishments of the reign of Queen Elizabeth I, the developments in theater and literature and economics and our stature as a world power. Yet he maintained a fierce opposition to the authority of women over men, citing scripture as found in the New Testament book of First Timothy.

I did not share his literal interpretation or his dogmatic opinions of female authority, but declined to enter into violent disagreement. I was conscious of Elizabeth's attention to the discussion. When I caught her eye I was rewarded with a slight smile.

That night when I came to her chamber I found her sitting before the fire again. This night she wore a robe, securely belted at the waist, and her hair was neatly braided and tied. As I entered the room, she stood and walked over to the door to the hallway and locked it. I bowed to her as she turned to face me. Her expression was welcoming. She approached and spoke in a low tone, “I became more conscious of the impropriety of this practice as I spoke with my aunt today, Mr. Darcy.”

I nodded and asked, “Do you wish for me to leave?”

She shook her head and sat. I gingerly moved beside her and sat as well. She pulled a blanket over her legs and ate and drank from the tray of food I'd had left for her. She offered me a pastry and I accepted. Finally, she said, “There are things I ask you to hear tonight, things that are difficult for me to relate.”

My voice was thick with emotion as I said, “I thank you for your confidence in me.” I set the pastry aside, any desire for food gone.

When she glanced at me then I saw tears brightening her eyes. Quickly she turned her gaze back to the fire. I looked at her intently. She said, “We had no idea how long we had been in the cellar. I felt Jane shaking with chills, yet could tell she burned with fever as well. For most of the time we sat in darkness, my fear was for her.” She shifted slightly so that her shoulder touched my arm. I could feel her shaking as she spoke. She continued, “But when Wickham came to us and asked us to write a message, likely our last words, to you and Mr. Bingley and our father, I was frightened by the way he looked at me.”

I swallowed hard and forced myself to remain still and quiet. Expression of my anger would not help her, I realized. The only movement I made was to reach for her hand and cover it with my own. Her fingers were very cold. I knew she could feel a tremor pass through me, but I endeavored to control my reactions.

Her voice dropped until it was but a whisper, “He left us for some time, but did not secure the door to the cellar, so I suspected he might soon return. My skin crawled from the way his eyes had moved over me.” I stared at our hands, hers within my own. She said, “We heard movement in the room above. And then the door opened again. He came in alone, carrying the lantern. He told us that when he came to Hertfordshire he was soon told of the beautiful Bennet sisters. He laughed at how jealous his friends would be when they learned he'd taken two of them to his bed. He first put his hands on Jane in a familiar way. When she pulled back he said that she would cooperate or for every bit of trouble she gave he would give me harm. So she stayed very still when he touched her again.”

I closed my eyes against the pain I heard in her voice. I clasped her hand tightly and felt her grasp mine in return. I almost wished she would say no more, yet I knew I must hear it if I were to ever have her trust and love as completely as I wanted. I could hear that she was crying when she began again to speak, “After kissing her and touching her for some time, he turned to me. He told me that likewise if I did not do as he wanted it would mean harm would come to Jane. He removed my gag and ordered me to kiss him. As he leaned in, disgust overcame me and I bit him. He yelled in pain and shoved me so that I fell to the floor. Then he turned back to Jane and slapped her so that she bled. He turned back and grabbed the front of my dress and ripped it, threatening all he would do to Jane if I again fought him. He said that first he would take me, then Jane. Then he secured my gag again and took me out of the cellar and up the stairs to the bedroom.”

Elizabeth stopped speaking. She walked over to where another tray sat and poured a glass of wine. Her hands shook and she spilled a bit. She sipped it and then poured more in the glass. She came back to the couch and offered it to me. I gratefully gulped some down and then handed it back to her. She again sipped it and then set it down on the nearby table. I could hear her breath shudder. I asked, “May I hold you, Elizabeth?” She nodded and for several moments I merely clasped her to me, so grateful to have her safe in my embrace. We both shook from a variety of emotions and both shed tears. I kissed her salty cheeks lightly and said, “I cherish you, beloved.” At this, she broke down sobbing in earnest.

Finally her sobs ceased and she pulled back so that she sat next to me, still within the circle of my arms. Again she looked away from me. She started to speak several times, but obviously struggled. Tears continued down her cheeks. She clung to me convulsively. She said, “He told me you'd likely not want me anymore once he was done, though if I cooperated I might be such a whore as to interest you in an entirely different manner. He said that I was obviously ripe for sexual conquest, yet an innocent. Perhaps if you could no longer have that innocence to yourself you could enjoy tricks he could teach me. He assured me you frequent brothels often and encouraged me to pay close attention to his instruction. Then he ripped away my chemise and commented on my body with words I cannot repeat.”

She was silent then for a very long time. My entire body was clenched with impotent rage. Finally, I whispered, “May I comment or do you wish for me to wait until you have said more?”

She sat back from me and turned to look into my eyes. She asked, “Please comment only on what he said of you.” I saw that her complexion was almost gray now and her face was set as though prepared to weather a blow.

I lifted her cold hands to my lips and kissed them. I said, “As I have told you, my love for you exceeds my hatred of Wickham. That is even true at this moment, when I hate him more than I knew it possible to despise someone.” I blinked back tears. “I am so sorry. I am so sorry that his hatred of me and envy of my fortune led to your being hurt in so base a manner.” She shook her head in protest and I nodded, “As to what he said of me, I want you. I would still want you had he succeeded in his intent.”

I pulled my hand from hers and wiped impatiently at my cheek. “I cannot pretend that as I reached manhood I was not given instruction in intimate matters. My uncle followed that fashion and thought I should as well. He took me to an exclusive brothel. That action caused a lasting break between my uncle and my father, and the worst altercation I ever had with my father. He was vastly disappointed in me. I still thought Wickham my friend then and he went with us, so that is the truth that he embellished. What he did not tell you was that I did not continue in that practice. My father's disapprobation meant a great deal. While I cannot claim the purity my father brought to his marriage bed, I hope you can believe my assertion that I've not haunted such establishments as Wickham would have you believe.” This all seemed inconsequential to me in comparison with the wrongs Wickham had done her. I struggled not to express my rage.

But it meant a great deal to her. She fell against me, sobbing. I could barely hear her. She said, “I was so afraid. Your desire for me is something I treasure. I feared it was done away with forever; that you would find me distasteful; that you would be sickened, thinking of him every time I came near.”

I pulled back so that I could lightly brush her lips with my own. I confess that I delighted that she'd fought so that he'd not had the chance to enjoy her kisses, but I did my best to show her that I only thought of her and delighted in her. I kissed her cheeks, her forehead, and her lips again. Then I moved to very lightly kiss her ear and her neck. I whispered, “I love you and I want to show that love. That has nothing to do with the desire someone else had to use and dominate you.” I was surprised when I felt a tear slide down my cheek then, but she seemed more pleased and less uncomfortable than I would have surmised.

She smiled slightly at me and caressed my cheek lovingly. She said, “I love you, too, Will.”

I released a breath and said, “It is wonderful to hear that.”

Her expression darkened again. “But there is more to tell.” She then quieted for a time and turned her gaze again to the fire. She swallowed hard and said, “As I said, he touched me and spoke in a very offensive way. He compared me with other women… and… girls, he'd known.” She paused and looked at me in a way I did not understand at first.

Then I closed my eyes and gasped, “Georgiana…” She had intimated things, saying that she was not fit to marry another. Yet she said she had not allowed him the ultimate liberty with her person and I believed her. Still, hearing that he'd abused the memory of what she had given him by talking of it hurt. My rage burned even brighter.

She only nodded. She said, “He also told me things about my youngest sister, liberties she'd allowed, made base insinuations about our temperaments and ugly comparisons of our bodies.” She cried, looking ashamed.

I whispered, “You are perfection, Elizabeth.”

She shook her head and said, “I could not give in to him and he continued to threaten what he would do to harm Jane as a result. I cannot forgive myself for what might have happened to her.” She breathed in and out deeply. “He grew more and more wrathful, hitting me and biting… Well, you know of my wounds. I find now that I am not so angry that you had the doctor tell you of them as it spares me the task.” Her tears began to flow again. She choked out, “He talked of some of the things he said were done for you commonly at brothels. He said that if I would do such things he would spare Jane.” She shook her head from side to side. “Yet I could not! I can not discuss this with her. I never knew I could be so selfish. I always thought that I would die for her. Yet, when I was tested…” She looked at me wildly.

I spoke quietly, “Do not give too much credence to the word of a liar, Elizabeth. Had you done as he asked, he would likely have still taken Miss Bennet if we'd not arrived. She is lovely. For a man such as Wickham…” I stroked her hair and kissed her again. I said, “You take too much on yourself, my love. Please desist.”

She stopped crying and pulled closer to me yet. I could feel that she took my words to heart and I was pleased. She murmured, “Aunt Gardiner urged me not to confuse violence with love.”

I whispered, “I pray you take her advice. She speaks wisely.” We were quiet together for a time. I offered, “I like your aunt and uncle.”

She said, “My uncle was honored that you showed him your house personally instead of having a servant do so.”

I smiled as I replied, “I was glad of the chance to get to know him better. He is someone I would like to call friend.” She nestled closer.

She said, “He was fascinated with the house's hidden passages.”

I replied easily, “I have always shared that fascination.”

She asked, “Will you show them to me?” She sat up and looked at me expectantly.

I asked, “Now?”

She nodded eagerly, a gleam in her eye that I liked very much. I stood and took the hand she offered and led her to the passage entrance. She murmured, “It is rather exciting, like something of a novel I ought not read.”

I asked with teasing interest, “What limitations have there been on your choice of books?”

She laughingly replied, “None, really. I suppose I only felt I ought not read some things that I have.” As we quietly made our way down the passage I heard her whisper a quote, “Magnificence… though impaired by time, excited so much admiration…”

I chuckled, “Miss Radcliffe?” Even in the faint light given by my candle I could see her blush. She nodded. I admonished, “You'll find no dungeons here.”

She looked amusingly disappointed and then curious as she asked, “How do you know which chamber is which?”

I explained to her the landmarks one could use to navigate the labyrinth. We both quieted as we heard a noise. I grimaced as Bingley carefully closed a door behind him, entered the passage and began to count his way to Miss Bennet's chamber. When he saw us there he flushed red and stammered a greeting. I whispered, “Bingley! I believe you forgot to count the torch by the door where you entered. You are about to enter Mr. Bennet's rooms.” He looked horrified, staring past me at Elizabeth. I glanced back to see that she covered her mouth to stifle laughter. I shrugged at her and turned back to Bingley, “One more beyond that to the one you wish, I think.” He bowed slightly to me and murmured thanks as he gingerly opened the door I'd indicated.

When we were again alone I dared look at Elizabeth. She still struggled with her amusement, but finally coughed lightly and asked, “Who else might we meet here tonight, sir?”

I raised my eyebrows and said, “Well, Fitzwilliam knows his way about by these passages. They enabled him to come to my aid unknown to others.” She looked serious again and nodded.

She seemed to gather her courage and then asked quietly, “And how would we find your chamber?” She looked nervous, but determined.

I indicated the way and led her there. I went in first to be certain that no one was within. I crossed the room and locked the door to the hallway. Elizabeth looked around inside my dressing room for some time, interested by the variety of different articles of clothing. She exited to my room and asked about another door. “Where does that go?” I opened it to show her the master parlor. She looked around appreciatively, running her fingers along the book shelves. Then she asked, “And beyond this?”

I cleared my throat and said, “Beyond this is the mistress' chamber. Would you like to see it?” She held my gaze as she nodded. I took her into the darkened chamber. The furniture was covered. She walked around for a moment and then went back through the master parlor to my room. I watched silently as she warmed herself by the fire. Then she turned and looked at my bed. My mouth went dry as she removed her robe and laid it on the chair. She walked over to the bed and climbed beneath the covers.

I drew near and laid the candle down on the table by the bed. She looked up at me solemnly and asked, “Will you lay here with me?” I nodded, unsure what she was about. I took off my shoes and climbed in beside her as she shifted slightly aside that I might join her. I lay on my side and looked down at her. She reached up and stroked my cheek and then my neck. She whispered, “He suggested at one point that I might pretend I was in the master chamber bed with you. I wish to replace the thought of what was happening then with more pleasant remembrances.” I saw from her look then that she wished for me to kiss her. I leaned in to do so very gently. It was more difficult to set aside thoughts of more intimacy with her as we lay in my bed, where I'd had so many dreams and fantasies. She clung to me tightly, murmuring of her love for me and asking that I never stop.

I kissed her again and asked, “May I have a private interview with you tomorrow?”

Amusement plain in her face, she pointed out, “We are quite alone right now.”

I nodded and said, “Indeed, we are. But I want to be able to relate the story of a successful marriage proposal to our children. I would not tell them that I stole into your room by night and led you to my bed to propose.” I kissed her again, with more apparent hunger. She laughed slightly.

I added lightly, “Nor would I wish to tell them that you so doubted my desire of you that you went to great lengths to prove it to yourself, taking my sanity in the process.” I lightly nipped at her ear lobe and then kissed down her neck and savored her delightfully warm response. I kissed her lips again. I whispered, “I want you desperately and can hardly bear the temptation of you. When you lay against me last night it was nearly painful. I wanted to love you as God enabled us when he created the comfort of the marriage bed. Yet I would not harm or frighten you for anything. Your softness and sweetness, your delightful innocent beauty, kindle a desire in me that will take a lifetime to quench.” I kissed her again and then looked deep into her eyes. “I will not begin that lifetime of loving with shame and guilt. We have long tarried beyond lines of propriety, as we both realize. I think, much as I do not wish it, that I must escort you back to your chamber now.”

She smiled and nodded, tears in her eyes. She murmured, “Perhaps with such sweet memories as this to bring to mind I may sleep when I lie in bed, rather than remembering horror.” I kissed her again and then helped her from my bed and handed her robe to her. My hands shook, a fact that surprised me not at all.

I saw her to her chamber and kissed her hand as I bid her good night. Walking away from her as she looked at me so warmly was difficult beyond measure.

The next day I asked Mr. Bennet if I might beg a private interview with Elizabeth. He looked at me fixedly and said, “I suppose so.” Then he returned to reading the news.

I turned to Elizabeth and asked if she would join me in the music room. She demurely walked past me, avoiding the interested gazes of Bingley, Fitzwilliam and the Gardiners. My nervousness was obvious and I could see that our audience was amused.

I closed the door to the music room behind me. She sat on the sofa and I stood and stared at her for a moment. I'd thought much of this moment after returning to my room the previous evening. I had studied her carefully throughout the morning to ascertain if my timing was right. It seemed so and I approached her carefully. I could not help but compare this occasion with the dismal failure I'd met at Hunsford. On this day I walked over to her and fell to one knee. I realized that towering over her and pacing in agitation had done little to recommend me before. I looked up into her eyes and saw not embarrassment, but love. Reassured, I gently took her hand.

I said, “My feelings will not be repressed. Miss Elizabeth, I humbly ask that you allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.” Her smile was radiant as she heard my previous sentiments echoed in my humble plea to her now. I kissed her hand.

She murmured, “Oh, Will!”

I continued, “I love you. I would be deeply honored if you would accept me and allow me forever to be at your service. My life would be bereft of joy without you; without your wit and vivacity, your beauty and your sweetness. Please, will you marry me?”

She smiled at me teasingly and replied, “I thank you. Your sentiments are returned equally, Mr. Darcy. I desire nothing more than your good opinion and am delighted that you bestow it on me so willingly. I love you and would be honored to marry you.” She laughed at the expression on my face then. Her words conversely mirrored her previous rejection of me as completely as my own had echoed that proposal.

I leaned in and kissed her. “You have made me very happy, Elizabeth.” I pulled back and then moved to sit next to her.

She reached out to stroke my cheek and I saw desire in her eyes. I could not but oblige it. I leaned in to kiss her again. She murmured, “Have we now satisfied the requirements of the children enough that I may shamelessly enjoy and encourage your kisses?”

I chuckled and nodded before I kissed her again.

That night as I lay in my bed restlessly thinking of Elizabeth, I heard the passage door open. I could see that she stood there by the light of her candle. I held my breath as I wished she would come to me, but it was not to be. She turned and left me to my dreams of what might have been.

Chapter 16

The next day Dr. Crain informed us that Miss Bennet would be well enough to leave her room that afternoon. This was especially welcome news as we anticipated the arrival of Mrs. Bennet in London along with her youngest daughters and Mr. and Mrs. Phillips. I recalled Miss Bingley once asking, “Are we to be visited by every Bennet in the county?” I smiled ruefully. Only Mrs. Bennet would join her family in staying at Wenshurt. The younger girls and the Phillips would stay at the Gardiners' home in Gracechurch Street.

I arranged with Mrs. Windham that a maid would assist Miss Bennet, seeing to her needs as she joined the party. I knew Elizabeth would be by her side as well, but wanted someone to serve them both. When Miss Bennet entered the room I was shocked by the bruising on her lovely face. It again brought home to me the violence the ladies had borne. I could understand how it must contribute to Elizabeth's guilt.

Once she was seated and all the fuss one might expect had been made to ensure her comfort, she turned to me. She smiled warmly as she said, “I am delighted to hear that we will be sister and brother, Mr. Darcy.”

I acknowledged her congratulations with a bow and thanked her. We talked pleasantly for several minutes. Bingley hovered near her restlessly.

All too soon, our other visitors arrived. Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Phillips entered the room together and a painful wailing and fretting began. Mrs. Bennet was horrified at the damage done to Miss Bennet's features and exclaimed over it again and again. She gasped with horror that they'd ever had Mr. Wickham in their home and listened to his lies and believed him their friend. She openly expressed her thanks that the girls had not been violated and spoke of the horror it had all been for her. Her delight over the news that Elizabeth and I had become engaged was utterly vulgar.

I watched with dismay as Mr. Bennet did nothing to check her and both Elizabeth and Miss Bennet grew pale and then flushed with embarrassment again and again. When an hour had passed and the Phillips left, Mr. Bennet suggested that Mrs. Bennet see her chamber and settle herself there to recover from her trip and exertions for a time. I had a maid escort her.

As she left the room I heard Miss Bennet exhale with relief. She looked embarrassed that we'd noticed but then surprised us all by saying, “Well, I may be forgiven such a reaction, mayn't I? I vow that Mama truly outdid herself in bringing us all mortification this time!”

Elizabeth began to laugh, tears brightening her eyes. I, too, felt undue mirth. I supposed that after so much tension we were all due a bit of laughter. I endeavored to check mine, though, uncertain that Elizabeth and Miss Bennet would welcome it. Mr. Bennet ignored everything.

Bingley dropped into a chair and exhaled loudly. He chuckled, “Can you believe that we are undone by that after all we have overcome?” His perplexed tone amused us all and we all laughed together. He kissed Miss Bennet's hand and apologized to her and was forgiven.

That night when Elizabeth entered my chamber she came to me. I obligingly moved over and let her lay down beside me. She laughed softly and said, “For all my worries I should have remembered that you'd already determined to marry me despite knowing my mother!”

I smiled and offered no reply but a passionate kiss. I was happy to see her in such good spirits. I sat up against my pillows and held her contentedly. I whispered, “Welcome, fiancée.” She smiled at this and kissed me. I noted, “You seem in fine spirits tonight, my love.”

She leaned against me and laughed lightly, “I spoke with Jane earlier and was amused, though very surprised, to find that she blamed herself for my suffering as heartily as I blamed myself for what could have happened to her.” She looked at me sideways and said, “It seems that Jane is not as innocent as I thought. She felt that since she was already acquainted with the way men and women come together she ought to have held Wickham's interest and somehow spared me his attentions. And when I confessed my betrayal of her she cheered me for not believing him. She says that you are quite correct that he was lying and in her usual way she credits me on some level with realizing this and asserts that is why I would not cooperate. She'll hear nothing more of any perceived guilt on my part and actually became angry with me for taking so much on myself.”

I commented, “I cannot imagine Miss Bennet angry.”

Elizabeth laughed and hugged me, “Honestly, I'd never seen such from her before. I could not have imagined it until tonight.”

I saw Elizabeth noting my furrowed brow. She said, “I puzzled over it, too, their opportunity I mean.” I did not reply, but continued to wonder when Jane's innocence had been lost. Reviewing events I decided that as I'd furtively spent time with Elizabeth at Oakham Mount, Bingley and Jane must have had some privacy as well. I was flabbergasted. To think that all this time as I was endeavoring to maintain Elizabeth's honor while yet expressing my desire for her, Bingley had not considered such notions. I felt great envy for his impulsiveness, a bit of disapprobation for him and curiosity as to Elizabeth's opinion on the matter.

Elizabeth snuggled against me and said, “I would never have guessed that dear, sweet Jane would be one to give in to passion before matrimony.” She looked pleased with herself.

I noted teasingly, “You are a bit smug, my love. Please do not forget that you are having this conversation with me while in my bed.”

She sat back and looked amused. “But I am only enjoying your comforting embrace and your kisses. While much thought has been given to more, we have agreed that it is best to wait. I am pleased that I can have such faith in you as to come here. While I find great passion in you, I also find inestimable honor.” She noted, “Do not think you are alone in resisting temptation. I am as determined as you are on this matter.” She looked thoughtful then, “Do you think ill of me that I have such inappropriately behaving relatives? I must say that I am surprised that Jane, of all people…”

I laughed and replied, “I do not think ill of you, Elizabeth. Quite the contrary, I find it tantalizing that your blood carries such passion.” My passion and sense were yet at odds.

She laughed and said, “Of course I do see their point in one thing; we know not what tomorrow will bring. I should hate to die without having the chance to show you just how much I do love you, and how much I desire you.” I kissed her again. She noted lightly, “In recent days we have known typhoid, suffered a nearly fatal carriage accident, been hunted by gypsies and I have been abducted and ill treated. You at one point were facing the barrel of a pistol held by a man who envied and hated you. That man was murdered just outside your house.” She hugged me and then noted as an aside, “Oh, my mother fears that he will haunt Wenshurt as a result. I beg you not to allow her free rein on the subject.” She kissed me again and said wryly, “I begin to wonder what will befall us next! Perhaps Jane and Charles are not so very wrong…” Amused, I kissed her silent.

This was just before the first cry of “Fire!” rang out. On hearing it we looked at one another in disbelief. We leapt up from the bed and donned our robes. Elizabeth ran to the passage entrance and carefully opened the door and ran for her chamber. My stomach tightened as she left. I could not like to be parted from her when there was danger. I strode into the hallway. There I met Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, the latter wailing pitiably. I walked past them to Elizabeth's door and knocked loudly. She came out after a moment and moved to her parents' side. I then knocked on Miss Bennet's chamber door. To my dismay, Bingley came out supporting Miss Bennet. Mrs. Bennet fainted at the sight, falling against her husband who barely caught her.

I took Mrs. Bennet in my arms and carried her down the stairs, urging the others to follow me. My first thought was to lead my guests out of the house. Then I would see to the efforts to fight the fire. As we reached the smoke-filled front hall, I began to cough. I saw Bingley carry Miss Bennet down the lower flight of stairs and rush past me to the outside door. My carriage had been brought up. I saw Bingley and the others into it and gave the driver Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner's address. I charged Bingley with their care. As I handed her into the carriage, Elizabeth grasped my hand and pleaded, “Please keep safe, my love!” I kissed her hand and gave my word. She looked back at me as they drove away.

I returned to the house. Fitzwilliam was directing efforts to douse flames at the southwest corner of the first level. The fire looked to have started in the kitchens and spread from there. I asked if all the staff were accounted for. They were, but for one of the cook's assistants. I joined the party attempting to reach the area where she should have been at work. I saw a hand beneath a fallen timber and stepped forward to reach out to the woman. I heard a strange noise, like wood cracking. I looked up and saw more timbers of the ceiling falling towards me.

Chapter 17

When I awoke I was in my bed and morning had come. The scent of smoke hung in the air. I wondered what had happened to the chimney that it should give off such a distinct odor and decided that at first opportunity I would speak with someone about the problem. I sat up and then nearly fell back from the pain in my head. I groaned aloud. I heard Fitzwilliam saying, “Well, thank God, Darcy! I feared we'd lost you.” I gingerly lay down. He continued, “I will send a messenger to Miss Elizabeth now. I wanted to wait for you to regain consciousness before I did so.”

I grimaced from both the pain in my head and the pain in my heart and asked, “What manner of joke do you play on me, Cousin?” I sat up slowly and looked around me, confused as I realized that I was in my chamber at Wenshurst. I glared at Fitzwilliam accusingly.

He paled and said, “I do not jest. I would send word to your fiancée, Darcy, to let her know you are well.” He looked agitated of a sudden.

The anger fairly raced through me. I growled, “Fiancée? That is a poor jest! How can you mock me so? How do you know of my failed proposal? I do not recall speaking of it. What is happening?” I wondered how I'd gotten to London without knowing it. Yet there was no doubt that I was at Wenshurst and not Rosings.

Fitzwilliam's mouth hung open. He stammered, “J-jest?”

I held my hands over my eyes. My head ached terribly. I said, “I ache. What has happened to cause this pain?”

Dr. Crain entered the room then. He said, “Mr. Darcy! I am glad to see you awake, sir. How do you feel?”

Fitzwilliam said with evident horror, “He seems not to remember…”

Dr. Crain examined me in his usual efficient manner. I asked, “How are you, Dr. Crain? It has been an age, has it not?” He stopped and stared at me oddly. As I know Dr. Crain to be a very reserved man, this gave me pause.

He asked, “When do you remember last seeing me, Mr. Darcy?”

I considered the question and replied, “I believe it was in the dead of winter when Mrs. Windham was ill, was it not?”

He nodded slowly and said, “Yes, sir. Mrs. Windham was ill then. You do not recall seeing me since?”

I shook my head, a sense of unease filling me as I noted his look to Fitzwilliam. I asked, “What have I forgotten? How was I injured?”

Fitzwilliam replied slowly, “There was a fire.”

I said, “Oh! I smell the smoke. I hope no one was hurt.”

He sat down suddenly and said, “A cook's assistant was killed. You were injured trying to reach her.”

I nodded and said, “Ah! Did something fall on me?” He nodded and looked at me wide eyed, as though shocked. I asked with concern, “Were you also injured, Fitzwilliam? You do not look at all well.” He shook his head and continued to stare at me.

Dr. Crain had continued his examination of me as we spoke. He said, “What is the last thing you remember, Mr. Darcy?”

I closed my eyes as I struggled to recall. Finally I said, “I was walking in the grove at Rosings Park.” I rubbed my head and said, “I must be more careful of low-hanging branches…” Dr. Crain closely examined the spot I indicated. I did not like the expression of confusion and concern I saw on his face then.

Fitzwilliam asked, “Did you meet anyone there?”

I frowned as I admitted, “I did… happen upon Miss Elizabeth Bennet as she was out walking.” I sighed and shook my head to dismiss that sad recollection, noting that both men seemed to be staring at me. “And then I was walking toward the parsonage to take my leave of the party there.” I thought of the look on Elizabeth's face as I'd handed her the letter I'd written. I wondered if she'd read it and if she at least gave my assertions concerning Wickham credit. I asked Fitzwilliam, “Did Miss Bennet ask you any questions about events at Ramsgate, Cousin?” I glanced at Dr. Crain carefully to remind Fitzwilliam that what I spoke of was secret. My cousin can be a bit indiscreet sometimes.

Fitzwilliam only shook his head. Then he turned to the doctor. “What is to be done?”

Dr. Crain said, “Please remain calm, Colonel. Mr. Darcy seems fine but for the loss of recent memory. Perhaps with time, that may return.”

Fitzwilliam paced, his great distress obvious.

I noted, “Dr. Crain, I do have significant pain in my head.” He nodded as though unsurprised and reluctantly offered laudanum, but I refused it and asked for a glass of port and endeavored to relax. Then I quizzed Fitzwilliam, “What have I forgotten, Fitzwilliam? Perhaps if you remind me it might bring back the memories. Surely it cannot be so bad as you look, old man!” I sipped the port and chuckled at the sad sight he was.

He stared at me and then turned to the doctor and asked, “What would you advise? Is it best that I tell him what he has forgotten or should he be allowed to recall it on his own?”

Dr. Crain looked at me for a moment as he considered his reply. He finally said, “Give him a day or two to find his own way, Colonel. If it seems that the damage is permanent then you may help him.”

I asked, “May I get up? Or should I restrict my activity?”

He urged, “Rest for today, please. Tomorrow you may resume light activity, if you feel no worse. I would not take any vigorous exercise for some time.” I agreed. He told me he would return in the afternoon.

Fitzwilliam could not seem to sit still. He paced back and forth in an agitated fashion, his face filled with dread. Finally he said, “I do not wish to bother you right now, Darcy. Rest. Please tell me if you recall… anything!” He excused himself, saying he would return shortly. His behavior was very odd.

After he left I took a good biscuit from the tray next to my bed. The smell of smoke still hung in the air. I wondered about the damage the fire had done and hoped Fitzwilliam would see to that until I could be of more use. As I did not feel ready to sleep again, I rang for my valet and asked that my correspondence be brought to me. I would not attempt to respond to anything, lest my decisions be affected as Fitzwilliam's reactions caused me to fear, but I could read.

The stack of correspondence arrived. Atop it was a small package from a reputable jeweler I employ from time to time to maintain my mother's jewels and provide appropriate pieces for Georgiana. I did not recall that I should expect something from them, so I was puzzled. I opened the box and found within a delicate silver chain with a small garnet cross. I stared at it with immediate recognition, for I'd noted it about Miss Elizabeth Bennet's sweet neck nearly every time we'd met. But I could not at all account for its being now in my possession. I set it aside and resolved that I would ask Fitzwilliam about it if the answer did not come to me. Yet as I read letters I would glance at it from time to time. It struck an emotional chord in me that I did not understand.

Reading my letters left me drowsy. I set them aside and lay down against my pillow. Even with the odor of smoke yet drifting through the house I thought it smelled lightly of lavender, feminine and intoxicating. I found the scent very soothing as I drifted to sleep.

Chapter 18

My dreams were extremely vivid. Not for the first time, I dreamt that Elizabeth lay in my bed, wanting my kisses. I dreamed that she loved me and desired me. When I awoke it was some time before I wished to leave the bed where I dreamed of such unattainable joy. It seemed to me that my dreams had been even more vivid than in the past, more realistic. I reluctantly considered mentioning that to Dr. Crain when I saw him next.

I finally sat up and rang for a tray of more substantial food. I was terribly hungry. More alert now, I looked at myself in the mirror in my room. I checked myself over for injuries and made a list of questions for the doctor.

That night my dreams were more and more intense. I awoke with a groan from a dream in which I saw Elizabeth sitting in the bath. I wondered where I had seen that tub. It seemed familiar to me, yet looked nothing like any tub I owned or in truth recalled. Again I looked at the jewel box I'd kept on the table beside my bed. I knew not why it was in my possession, yet I somehow wanted it near. I puzzled over a sense of relief that the necklace was whole and well. Knowing that I lacked memories augmented my frustration.

The next day dawned and I felt much better. My head no longer ached. I decided that I must bathe and dress for the day and leave my chamber. When I entered the breakfast room I found to my surprise that Bingley sat there with Fitzwilliam. They both stared at me somberly as I entered the room. I asked wryly, “Do I look so ill, gentlemen?”

Bingley shook his head and said, “No. You look well enough, Darcy. How do you feel?”

I smiled slightly. He seemed so anxious! I reassured him, “I feel well, Bingley. It would take more than falling timbers to damage this proud skull.” This last was an insult to myself. After a nightmare in the early hours I'd recalled Miss Elizabeth's words to me at the Hunsford Parsonage. Interestingly, most of my nightmares about her were less vivid than my dreams, yet I felt the wounds she'd dealt me then keenly.

Bingley asked eagerly, “Then do you remember recent events?” I saw Fitzwilliam somberly shake his head with doubt as he looked at me.

I reached for the newspaper and responded, “I am not so concerned with the particulars of how I traveled from Kent to London as you and Fitzwilliam seem to be. It has ever been an unremarkable journey. So, if that memory is lost to me I shall have to learn to live without it.” I was trying to be pleasant and civil, but the principle concern I had for such a memory was in Bingley and Fitzwilliam's behavior. I tasted the coffee and took a bite of my breakfast food.

Suddenly I stopped and looked at my companions. I asked, “Say, Bingley? When did you arrive? I thought you were yet in Scarborough with family.” Bingley groaned and put his face in his hands. Concerned, I asked, “Whatever is the matter?”

He looked again at Fitzwilliam and said in a choked tone, “I must be off, Darcy. I am expected in Gracechurch Street.”

I paused to think where I'd heard mention of that address. Finally I recalled that the Bennet family had relations there. I asked wonderingly, “What takes you there, Bingley?”

He turned red and then paled. Finally he blurted out, “My fiancée and her family take me there, Darcy, that's what!” He turned and rushed out of the room, obviously greatly bothered.

I called after him, “Bingley! What is wrong?” But he was gone. I turned to Fitzwilliam and asked, “Fiancée?”

He nodded and said, “Miss Jane Bennet agreed to marry your friend.”

I was stupefied. “How did he happen to see her again? Surely his sisters would not countenance their meeting! I am astonished.” I wondered how Bingley had overcome my assertion that she loved him not, yet I was relieved that he'd settled his affairs without further interference from me. So, I was brought up short by my cousin's next words.

Fitzwilliam looked at me evenly. “You told him of your deceit and errors and encouraged him to follow his heart, I believe.” He stared at me as he sipped his tea.

I sat very still. I had a brief recollection of Bingley punching me. I rubbed my jaw thoughtfully. And then it was gone. I could follow the memory no further. Slowly I said, “And it would seem he harbors resentment for me. More importantly though, I was under the impression that I only lost one day of travel. This gap in my memory… how significant is it?”

He sat and considered his reply for a long moment. He said, “In time, the gap seems to measure a little over three weeks.” I could see that he was deeply distressed.

Taken aback, I frowned and asked, “And has anything else of import occurred in that time, Cousin?” He nodded slowly. I asked, “Will you tell me what I have forgotten?”

At that moment Dr. Crain was announced. He entered and bowed to us. He said, “Good day, sir. How are you feeling?” I indicated that I felt fine. He asked, “And have any memories returned?”

I started to say that none had, but then thought of the flash I'd seen in my mind's eye of Bingley. I said, “It is possible that I remember my friend punching me in the jaw, but I am unsure. Perhaps I only imagined that.”

Dr. Crain asked, “And do you remember any dreams or nightmares from your sleep periods?”

I felt my face turn scarlet as I admitted with reluctance, “Yes. I am unsure if it is significant, but such dreams seem somehow more vivid and realistic to me.” I could sense amusement and a slight relaxation from Fitzwilliam. I endeavored to ignore him.

Dr. Crain asked politely, “How so?” I could have sworn that Fitzwilliam stifled laughter at that moment. I uncomfortably wondered how he could guess the content of my dreams.

I only shook my head and said, “I do not know how to explain it. It is utterly impossible that such dreams reflect lost memories, however, I assure you. Impossible!” I knew I would never know Elizabeth's kisses or love or desire. I suddenly felt a deep sense of loss as I recalled the hopes I'd had of marrying. The sting of rejection was one thing I wished I could no longer recall!

Fitzwilliam grinned slightly as he murmured, “Perhaps not so impossible!” I glared at him as I wondered how he now misunderstood me.

I asked the doctor, “Can my cousin tell me what I've forgotten? Wouldn't that help me remember?”

The doctor looked at me seriously. He said, “I am unsure what is best in a case of this nature, Mr. Darcy. We know little about remedies for such injuries as of yet. I feel certain from what I know of you, though, that you would want to recall for yourself rather than hearing of things second hand. My fear is that if someone tells you rather than allowing your memory to heal in its own way, you may never fully remember and know what has left your thoughts now.”

Fitzwilliam no longer smiled. He said, “How long would you advise we wait?”

Dr. Crain said, “Find out if he was punched by a friend. I find myself in the odd position of hoping that is so. If it is, then it is an encouraging sign.”

Fitzwilliam turned to me and asked, “Bingley?” I nodded, feeling at an unpleasant disadvantage.

Dr. Crain turned to me, “Mr. Darcy I advise you to write down any recollections that come to you. We can discuss them each day when I attend you. Also, if you can remember your dreams it would be helpful if you could share them with me, too. There may be subconscious recollection occurring in your sleep.” Again the blush was rising in my face.

I felt and looked rueful as I replied, “If only that were the case!” Fitzwilliam fairly choked with laughter. I glared at him, embarrassed and annoyed with his unseemly mirth. He smiled kindly and wished me a good day and sweet dreams. I fought the urge to punch him!

Later that afternoon I felt restless and bored. I went to my club for a bit and joined in a few hands of cards and played billiards with an old school fellow. The stress-free structure of these activities was soothing to my mind. I found it interesting that my old memories were intact, while new ones were gone. I was very puzzled when a passing friend referred to me as “Gypsy King,” for instance. My emotional reaction was extremely negative, though I endeavored to keep my feelings to myself. I'd never given the gypsy problem much thought before but I apparently held them in contempt I'd not realized. I then began to fear I had lost memories from further back than the past three weeks. My mood was growing darker and I returned home.

In the night I awoke and wrote down the dreams I recalled, including the one where I proposed to her and was accepted. I did not use Elizabeth's name in my description, only calling her a lady of my acquaintance. Yet I found myself longing for her and saying her name out loud in the deafening silence of my lonely room. It was as though she ought to be there, or at least nearby. Why did I feel that she ought to be with me when I knew myself to be the `last man in the world' she could love?

I awoke the next morning deeply puzzled by a nightmare I'd had in which Elizabeth had been proposed to by my aunt's clergyman. I did not write that one down. It was utterly ridiculous and surely unrelated to my current ills. I simply did not wish to explain the uncomfortable and embarrassing feelings it generated. There is only so much a man should have to bear! With Dr. Crain's dispassionate reactions to all and Fitzwilliam's tittering I was at my limit.

I decided the next night that I would take in a play. Fitzwilliam arranged a box for us for a performance of `A Midsummer Night's Dream.' I saw that Miss Wright sat just below us and to the left, guest there of a wealthy friend. Fitzwilliam would be melancholy from seeing her, I thought. I also noted at least once that her eyes turned to him with longing.

I found quickly that I was not in the mood for a comedy, especially about the difficulties of love. I felt like an ass already when Fitzwilliam said to me, “Say! Isn't that Bingley?” I looked over to a lower box and indeed saw Bingley there. I trained my glasses on him and saw that he sat by his Miss Bennet, leaning close to whisper to her. She was as lovely as ever, though the dim light did not flatter her complexion. It almost looked as though she was bruised on one side of her face. Seemingly all her family was present. Miss Lydia leaned over the edge of the box giggling inappropriately and openly admiring one of the actors, her sister Kitty following her every motion. Miss Mary sat behind those two, lips pursed in disapproval. Mr. and Mrs. Bennet sat with the Gardiners and Phillips behind Bingley and their daughters. Next to Miss Bennet was Elizabeth. I could not help but stare at her. I wondered what she thought of the performance. I was sure she would have interesting observations to make about the actors and the story and the comedy inherent in the lovelorn. I longed so to hear them! I then thought of the necklace in my rooms. Her neck was unadorned. I felt warm as I thought of how much I longed to trail kisses over that tender skin. I could imagine the taste of her. I swallowed hard as my thoughts raced. I could almost hear her gasping with pleasure at my nearness, feel her tremble against me. I shook my head. These hopeless fantasies must stop! I really was an ass!

And yet I was lost in admiration of her. I admired her sweet lips. In my mind I heard her call me `Will.' Where in the world did that come from? No one has ever called me that. Yet I could hear her voice murmuring that name tenderly. Her voice urged me to keep safe and claimed me as her love. I began to fear for my sanity. I turned my glass to the stage once more, but my hands shook so that I could not see through the glass anymore. From the corner of my eye I saw that Fitzwilliam watched me carefully. I finally looked at him questioningly.

He asked, “All right there?” I nodded. He said, “You look a bit flushed.” I rolled my eyes a bit, annoyed with him for no good reason. I turned my eyes to the stage again.

But very soon I turned again to look at Elizabeth. She did not smile, even when much of the audience laughed uproariously. She seemed a bit pale and very sad. Her hands worked the handkerchief in her lap into a tight twist. I puzzled over her apparent anguish and the feelings the sight of her provoked. My mind only knew that she'd refused me, but my heart pounded with joy at the sight of her. It made no sense.

I also considered the others. Once they'd been naught to me but a source of derision. Now I regarded Mrs. Bennet with exasperated tenderness. She loved her children and feared for their futures. And her husband was one of the weakest men I'd ever known. Yet I was moved to pity for him, not disgust. I passed my eyes quickly over the Phillips, whom I did not know well. When I looked at the Gardiners I felt strange. How did I know their name? I felt that I knew and liked these people well. I remembered Mr. Gardiner walking the passages of Wenshurst. Yet I could not remember having ever met them. A sense of panic rose within me.

I looked again at Elizabeth. I could almost feel her hand caressing my cheek and the warmth of her body pressed against my own. I was ill. My head ached. And then the most incredible thing happened. It was as though she felt my eyes on her. Elizabeth looked directly at me. I could see tears in her eyes and I longed to kiss them away and serve as her shield. There were words for what I felt, but I could not find them. She wiped the tears away. For a moment she looked down and then she looked back at me. I saw her lips form one word, “Remember!” And then she stood and fled the box crying.

I left my seat and headed to the lobby of the theater. I heard Elizabeth sobbing and heard a woman's voice murmuring kindly. I saw them in the hallway below. The woman was Elizabeth's Aunt Gardiner. I felt an inexplicable sense of relief that she was so well attended. And then I heard Elizabeth's voice saying, “I cannot bear it, Aunt! I cannot!” And they left my sight and hearing. I slowly returned to my box. Fitzwilliam looked at me, a faint air of disappointment apparent at the sight of me returning alone.

He and I were both melancholy as we returned home after the play, not at all the usual affect of a comedy.

Chapter 19

Through the night I awoke several times. My dreams continued to be vivid and for the most part intensely pleasant, though some recollections of childhood clashes with Wickham had a particularly nightmarish quality. As I lay awake savoring the imaginings of my mind and dreams I began to consider the possibility that I was not insane, but remembering time spent with Elizabeth. When I first woke up after the fire, Fitzwilliam called her my fiancée. When she'd seen me looking at her during the play she'd urged me to `remember.' Yet I clearly remembered her words to me inside the Hunsford Parsonage and they were at odds with the thought of being accepted by her.

I clutched the pillow tightly, thinking of the slight scent of lavender it had carried but a few days before. That thought was the one that gave me the most hope, for if she had ever lain with me then that would have been her scent on my pillow. I thrashed about as my opinions veered from hour to hour, unsure whether to hope she loved me or accept my fevered thoughts and dreams as madness.

The next morning I decided I would demand that Dr. Crain and Fitzwilliam enlighten me as to what I could not remember. My dreams stayed with me so vividly I could hardly believe they did not reflect reality. Again I saw Elizabeth bathing. Again I held her close and kissed her. Again I proposed and was accepted. Again I heard her refer to me as `Will' and say that she loved me.

As I waited for them, hope left me and my mood again turned dark. I decided that I was going insane. I had lost my memory and in its place was madness, brought on by the loss of the one woman I could ever truly love. I felt dizzy and my head ached painfully. I feared for what would become of me and I feared for Georgiana and for Pemberley. I was very ill.

Therefore, I was startled and not at all pleased when Lady Catherine was announced. She, oddly enough, wore black from head to toe, as though in mourning. It lent her an air even more severe than usual. I looked past her expecting to see Anne. Regardless of how ill my cousin was ever rumored to be, Lady Catherine was known for keeping her with her. My wait was in vain.

Lady Catherine stood before me fairly radiating rage. She was silent for a moment and then exploded. “How dare you show such disrespect for my daughter? How could you so soon propose to a country nobody to take her place? Wretched, wretched heartless boy! I am ashamed of you!”

I bowed to her, the ache in my head an agony. I blinked quickly and said, “I have not the pleasure of understanding you, Madam.”

She turned an alarming shade of red and then went pale with anger. As a boy I'd been terribly frightened of her, afraid that she might ever look as she did in this moment. I winced as she shrieked, “Do not dissemble! Do not lie to me! I know what you have done. You have proposed marriage to Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

I was shocked to think that she'd heard of my failed proposal. I could not imagine Elizabeth being indiscreet. Perhaps she spoke of her distress to Mrs. Collins? A small voice in my mind said she could not have as Mrs. Collins was quarantined at Rosings. I closed my eyes as I clung to that thread of memory and tried to follow where it led. And the tantalizing ideas I'd considered in the night came to mind forcefully.

Lady Catherine continued, “Look at me! Do you expect me to stand by while you disgrace yourself and your family with such a union? Do you expect me to bear such disrespect to me and to your cousin?!” Her voice had reached an alarming pitch now. I could not account for her rage. I would have expected indignation and disapproval from her, but not this ferocity.

I replied softly, “I mean no disrespect to you or my cousin. I ought to have told you before that I have no intention of marrying Anne. It is not meant to be.”

Lady Catherine began to gasp. She choked out, “You… have… no… intention…” And then she shrieked beyond all previous noise, “May the devil take you, Fitzwilliam Darcy!” She whirled upon me, beating at me about the chest and face with her cane while crying pitifully. I dodged most of the blows, but one connected hard with my temple. There was sudden pain and the world swayed around me. I collapsed. I heard the sound of her keening as the world went black.

When I came to, Lady Catherine sat across the room facing away from me and silent but for occasional gasps and sobs. I sat up and moaned with pain. She whirled to look at me with relief and said hoarsely, “I thought I'd killed you, Nephew.” She looked at me with a tear-streaked face and said, “While I cannot excuse your teasing about Anne, I do not want for the devil to take you.” She covered her eyes with her hands and wept.

There was a lump in my throat as I saw her pain. I said, “Lady Catherine, I have no memory of anything that occurred in the past three weeks or so. It is all a blank to me.”

She nodded and sadly said, “That is how I feel, as though the time has disappeared into nothingness.” She sniffed and wiped at her tears.

I was puzzled and frustrated now. I said, “I speak literally. I was in an accident and have no memory of recent events.”

She asked starkly, “Then you do not remember Anne's death?”

I gasped with shock, “What?! Anne is dead? How?”

She said slowly, “Then you did not mean to mock her memory when you said you will not marry her?”

I shook my head. The pain was blinding. I crawled to the edge of a sofa and sat upon it. I said, “I am sorry, Aunt Catherine. I did not know. I did not know.” I sighed, “Poor Anne! What happened?”

Lady Catherine stared at me for a moment. In a miserable tone she said, “She was tending the tenants without my knowledge. She was very good to them. And she contracted the typhoid.” She looked away and said, “I have prayed to God for the strength to bear it, to forgive Him for taking her.” She cleared her throat and said, “And I had hoped you mourned her as I do. Yet when I heard of your engagement, I realized that I am even more alone than I'd known.”

I offered, “I am so sorry for your pain. But I know of no engagement. Perhaps you heard an idle report of some kind?”

She shook her head and said in a tone of defeat, “Mrs. Collins had a letter from Miss Bennet. Her husband had a letter from the girl's father. It was no idle report.”

As I looked at Lady Catherine the world seemed to spin and tilt all about me. I remembered walking in the grove at Rosings and being so distracted that I had bumped my head on a low-hanging tree branch. I closed my eyes and held my head with my hands. Images raced through my mind as in a flood of remembrance.

I murmured, “Typhoid. I must get her home since she cannot stay with Mr. Collins.”

Lady Catherine said primly, “There could have been talk since she'd refused him.”

Again I murmured, “Rain. Mud. Slipping. Cold water. Screams.”

Lady Catherine whispered, “The carriage accident.” She stood and came closer to me. “Are you well?”

I shook my head and began to weep, both from the pain in my head and the pain in my heart. I bowed my head and held it between my hands. She stood some distance away for a long moment. Then she moved to sit by me and put her hand on my arm comfortingly. I felt myself shaking. I said, “Gypsies. Not safe. Must protect her! At your service... Oh, Elizabeth!”

Lady Catherine confirmed, “There were gypsies in the wood in your path. By all accounts you acquitted yourself admirably, Nephew. You evaded them and reached a village.”

I said, “Newlin Inn.” In my mind's eye I saw the inn and the smiles of the people as we laughed together at dinner. I saw Elizabeth bathing. I felt Elizabeth's kisses and remembered our intimacy. My tears fell harder. I said, “I had never known what it was to love until that day, until I knew that her safety and happiness came first, before my own concerns. I had only been infatuated before that. And she loved me, too! It was a miracle. She saw past my wealth and my pride and my poor demeanor and loved my heart.”

Lady Catherine looked taken aback as she said carefully, “I know you went to Hertfordshire for a bit after that. I was concerned.” She now clasped my hand. I heard her swallow hard and could see that she was trying to reconcile herself to my preference for Elizabeth. I appreciated her effort more than I could say.

I thought of the expression on Elizabeth's face the previous evening as she'd seen me looking at her and not knowing her. I groaned aloud. Lady Catherine stiffened, but then moved her arm up about my shoulders and embraced me. She was very awkward about it at first, but then seemed to relax as though she needed someone to comfort.

I whispered, “I love her. How she must hate me for forgetting!”

Lady Catherine was silent, but began to rock me, humming an old lullaby. I had not felt such a purely maternal comfort in many years. I relaxed against her. She finally said, “But now you do remember and all will be well.” She patted my back soothingly. It was strange yet right. I was in need and my aunt was yet lost in her own grief.

I sat back and kissed her hand with friendly respect. “I am sorry you are not happy with my choice.”

I looked at her tear-streaked face. She chided me and spoke in a matter of fact tone, “Well, I am not happy about much of anything these days. But I do not have so many worthy people in my life that I can spare you. So, I shall have to become reconciled to the match, I see.” She looked down and whispered, “I truly thought I had killed you.” Her expression was one of agony.

I grinned and said lightly, “No. But you did knock some sense into me.”

She pursed her lips and said, “Impertinence! Remember that you owe me a great deal. Who else do you know who would have beaten your ailing head in such a way?”

I chuckled and said, “Only you, Madam. You have been of infinite use.” I kissed her cheek.

She sniffed imperiously and said, “That is correct. I will expect to see you both at my house here in town this very week. I must be allowed my share in your nuptial planning. If you must marry her it should be done well enough to reflect the dignity of the houses of Darcy and Fitzwilliam.” I laughed at this. She tried to continued looking stern, but mirth overtook her finally. We laughed together quietly and I wiped tears from her cheek with my handkerchief. It was the closest I'd ever felt to my aunt.

Chapter 20

The doors to the room opened and Fitzwilliam stood in the hallway, gaping at the scene before him. His expression caused me to laugh. Lady Catherine choked out, “Fitzwilliam, do not stand there gaping so rudely! You'll want to do a better job of attending me, Nephew. I have no heir and you are in need of an estate to inherit.” He stared at her, shocked. She continued, “Darcy has no need of my money, and is about to take on new responsibilities anyway. You, however, can help me to manage Rosings now and as you prove your worth, be named my heir.”

He managed to bow and reply, “Thank you for your confidence in me, Lady Catherine. I am honored.” I could see that he was much affected at this turn in his fortunes. I wondered how quickly he would renew his suit to Miss Wright. I thought it would be very soon.

The laughter left Lady Catherine's face and I was sorry for it. Dr. Crain entered the room behind my cousin. He gasped and said, “Mr. Darcy! Your head is bleeding!” He stepped towards me to look more closely at it.

Lady Catherine stood, nodded to me, and said, “Fitzwilliam, I will allow you to escort me to my carriage now.” He did so and returned moments later, yet stunned.

As he entered the room again he asked, “What did happen to your head?”

I replied wryly, “Lady Catherine and I had a disagreement.”

His expression registered shock as he asked, “And she became violent with you? Is she mad?”

I shook my head and said, “No. She is only grieved. Well, perhaps she is a bit mad, but no more so than she's ever been.” He looked at me questioningly. I added, “However, I am pleased to report that her unorthodox method did help heal me.”

He was very still. “What do you remember?”

I replied, “I remember Elizabeth's sweet laugh and that she calls me `Will' because the name Fitzwilliam causes her to think of you, and we can not have you between us. I remember everything. I remember why I have Elizabeth's necklace and what its repair signifies to me, that even my hatred of Wickham pales by comparison to the affection I bear her. I remember the way Mr. Collins mangled the Twenty-third Psalm at Anne's graveside.” He looked at me expectantly and I supplied, “I know not how being made `to lie down in the still waters' is supposed to be of help, but that is what he spoke.” He nodded and chuckled ruefully. I continued, “I remember Wickham's deserved death and being glad my father did not live to know of it. I remember your assistance in that awful matter. I recall your just concern that I ought to propose to Elizabeth again quickly.” I glared at him and said, “I realize why my confusion over my recent dreams has so amused you…” I glanced up at Dr. Crain and noted that his expression was carefully inscrutable, as ever.

Fitzwilliam's smile grew. He clapped me on the shoulder and said, “This is wonderful, Cousin! I am very happy for you.”

My own smile faded as the doctor cleansed the wound Lady Catherine had given. With great feeling I said, “You said that I'd lost three weeks of my life, but not that they were the most important.”

He replied, “I was careful then to say that I spoke only of time, if you recall.”

I grimaced. “I recall!” I asked, “How can she forgive me?”

He chuckled, “Try some of the usual tricks for a change, Darcy. Flowers? Perfumes? Candies? Jewels? Pretty gifts? Oh, and groveling. She's taught you that, I dare say.” He now paced the room with joyful energy, both for me and for himself I realized.

I looked at him askance and said, “Happily it did not come to that when I proposed this time.”

He only smiled at me. He said, “Really all you lack is time. Elizabeth will be here in an hour, escorted by her aunt. Dr. Crain and I planned last night's `chance meeting' at the theater. We hoped that the stimulus of the sight of her, along with all those you've seen so much of recently, would help you to recall things for yourself.” He paused, “As it did not seem so successful as we'd hoped, he asked that Miss Elizabeth come here today to help explain recent occurrences to you.” He looked very sober. “She comes here convinced that you've lost the essence of recent days, perhaps irretrievably.”

I said, “It did help me when I saw Elizabeth and her family. I measured my emotions and responses to them against what I knew and saw the gaps. It was just that I could not believe the good fortune of what I remembered. I had believed her lost to me forever on that day in Kent.”

He noted dryly, “Forever is of short duration in this case.”

I nodded and assured Fitzwilliam that I would find a way to explain all to Elizabeth. I urged him to go and see Lady Catherine to discuss her offer. While I'd never want him to bow and scrape to her, it could not hurt for him to let her know what it meant to him and pay her due respect. I could feel his anticipation as he agreed with me. He would now be free to live as he'd always wished.

Dr. Crain offered his good wishes, assurances of his discretion, congratulations and then departed. I went to my chamber. I took the jewel case with Elizabeth's necklace and put it in my pocket. I also went to my safe and looked at the jewelry therein. I found my mother's ring; a delicate piece with an exquisite diamond surrounded by diamonds and garnets, and put it in my pocket as well. I arranged that refreshments would be set up in the Conservatory and went in search of some peace there while I waited and considered my words.

I discovered that the house staff already knew of my recovery when one of the maids arranged several pots of pansies and irises around the area where I awaited Elizabeth. She explained, “Iris brings messages of love and pansies are for remembrance, Mr. Darcy. This kind has seven veins, which stands for constancy in love.” She smiled in a friendly way and said, “I'm so happy you're feeling better, sir!”

I smiled appreciatively and thanked her. I recalled that ironically enough it was the juice of the pansy that caused so much trouble in the play I'd attended only the previous evening. “…the juice of it on sleeping eyelids laid will make a man or woman madly dote upon the next live creature that it sees.” I needed no such inducement!

I turned as I heard people moving towards the door. I stood very still as Elizabeth was admitted. She was so lovely and grief-stricken that I could hardly breathe. The realization that she loved me and was to be my wife nearly overwhelmed. She stopped just inside the door. I stepped forward and said earnestly, “Elizabeth, I am so glad to see you, my love.”

Pain flashed across her face and she said, “I know you are the best of men and endeavoring to make this easier for me, Mr. Darcy, but I beg you to only speak the truth.”

I had puzzled over how I might convince her best. I walked to her and took her hands in my own. I knelt and looked up into her lovely eyes and said, “I do not endeavor to spare your feelings, only to convince you that my memories have returned. I know what it is to love you. I am at your service, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth. I am at your service.”

I felt her begin to shake as I repeated the words that had come to mean so much to both of us. Tears ran down her face and she whispered, “How? I thought…”

I smiled ruefully and stood and led her to the table. I said, “Lady Catherine was angered when she thought I spoke mockingly of Anne's passing. She flew at me in a rage and hit me on the head with her cane. The memories had been trying to return a bit at a time over the past days, but with her help I understood the truth. And I remembered that while walking in the grove at Rosings I also hit my head against a tree branch. Perhaps at that moment I injured it slightly, though it was not aggravated to a costly point until the more severe blow I took during the fire? Before talking with my aunt I thought my memories of your love to be a sign of mad longing, not fragments of the most significant time of my life.” I sat down by her and asked, “Can you forgive me?”

She nodded weakly and murmured that I was already forgiven. I served her a glass of wine which she sipped quickly. I had some as well. I offered her some food and she accepted, admitting that she'd not been eating well as consequence of anxiety.

I asked, “Has anything happened that I do not know of… since the fire?”

She reached out and took my hand as though to convince her self we were truly together again. She laughed nervously and said, “Well, Jane and Mr. Bingley have set a wedding date.”

I asked, “When will they marry?”

She blushed as she said, “They will marry two weeks from today.”

I observed approvingly, “Ah. Then your parents expressed their dismay about his presence in her chamber at Wenshurst on the night of the fire…”

She nodded and jested, “I told you that their way had its advantages!”

I smiled warmly at her and kissed her. Then I pulled the ring from my pocket and slipped it on her finger. She looked at it silently. I asked, “How soon may we marry, Elizabeth?”

She said, “I believe that we can hasten the schedule a bit in the interest of impressing people with procurement of a special license, but Mama insists that she will have at least one daughter properly wed and celebrated. I have never seen her so put out with Jane! I believe that two months is the earliest we could expect.”

I nodded grimly and said, “Then I will procure the license and set events in motion.”

She looked wary as she fretted, “But what else will happen to us before that time?”

I stood and led her to a chaise that was situated more privately. I sat and drew her into my arms. I tenderly returned her necklace to its proper place and rained kisses reverently over that soft skin. We hugged each other close for a very long time. I held her and kissed her again and again. She lay against me and cried. I reassured her as best I could, saying, “I love you. I will protect you. I will be safe. And I believe that though many things have befallen us God has brought us through it all to have a happy life together.”

Epilogue

We'd indeed had enough of dark adventure to last us a lifetime. Happily all my increases in security measures and staff were either unnecessary or perfectly effective from then on. I imagine that I drove those closest to me to distraction many times with my obsession for keeping those I love safe from harm. Yet I had learned the hard way that the worst can happen.

Two months passed with agonizing slowness, but the day finally dawned that Elizabeth and I met before the altar of Longbourn Church and became man and wife. We spent our first night together as man and wife in our chambers at Wenshurst House in London. Much as the day had done, the night went perfectly. I feared that our passion might somehow wane, but it did not. The explosive newness of our union deepened into a more assured part of each of us over time, but we were to have the magic of an abiding and wondrous love for always.

The spring after we married we returned to Newlin Inn. I had seen to it months earlier that the military unit closest removed the gypsy threat. Mr. Newlin was gracious in his thanks. Mrs. Chandler had a new babe for us to admire. We stayed in the suite of rooms we'd had before, but together alone in the large room. I am fairly certain that it was there that our first son, Richard Charles Darcy, was made. We returned to Newlin Inn each spring thereafter on our way to visit Rosings Park.

Lady Catherine relied more and more on Fitzwilliam to help her manage Rosings and named him her heir. She never became a gracious person, but loss and grief changed her. She long held a grudging respect for Elizabeth before she finally fully accepted her as my wife, but she ended counting on Elizabeth nearly as much as me or Fitzwilliam. Fitzwilliam retired honorably from the army and was finally able to marry as he wished. His improved situation recommended him as a proper suitor to Miss Wright's father and they wed soon after Elizabeth and I did.

When Lady Catherine was buried next to her daughter and Sir Lewis a few years later, Mr. Collins again mangled the words of the Twenty-third Psalm during the burial service. Richard and Victoria Fitzwilliam took possession of Rosings. Fitzwilliam appointed an able assistant for Mr. Collins in hopes of offering the members of the parish some coherent sermons and attention. Mr. Collins was as tireless in his devotion to the Fitzwilliams as he had been to Lady Catherine, though he puzzled often over how to behave as they did not encourage such fawning as that of which he was capable. However, that was one light that was well hid beneath a bushel.

The Bingleys only remained in Hertfordshire a short time. Such close proximity to her family was not pleasing even to people of such good temper, especially as Mrs. Bennet remained indignant that so short an engagement had been necessary and admonished Mrs. Bingley often regarding that fact. Indeed, their first daughter arrived almost exactly nine months to the day after Bingley's proposal was accepted.

Such scandal cast further shade on Miss Bingley's prospects and made her more shrewish than ever. Her brother increased her allowance that she might live in comfort in London with the Hursts. Charles and Jane took a house only thirty miles from Pemberley, to the great joy of both sisters and Charles and me. Our many children played together as the best of friends as they grew to adulthood.

I remained for all my days happily at Elizabeth's service.

The End

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