How Can I Face Your Father

By Erinmarie

Beginning, Section II

Chapter 1

Posted on Sunday, 17 September 2006

Elizabeth Bennet was lost, lost in her thoughts and the beauty of the country she was passing through. She had just been roused from her silent admiration of the majestic county of Derbyshire by her Aunt Gardiner's remark about the village of Lambton. On their tour of the county, they were to stop in the village her aunt called "the dearest place in the world." However, it also happened to be only 5 miles from Pemberley. The mention of his estate, and the thought of its being so near to where they would be staying, caused a few moments agitation to intrude on Elizabeth's otherwise tranquil mind.

It still made her cringe to think how horribly she had treated Mr. Darcy, especially during the disastrous evening of his proposal at Hunsford. The unjust accusations she had leveled at him and the blunt manner in which she had expressed her utter dislike of him would surely make him hate her! Any meeting with him now would most likely be thoroughly unpleasant and should be avoided at all costs.

Thus, the thought of being only 5 miles from his estate was quite enough to cause Elizabeth's thoughts to run more frantically through her brain. However, once her aunt had assured her that their paths would not cross since they did not enjoy the privilege of intimacy with that family, Elizabeth was able to sincerely express her happiness at being on the road to the village her aunt loved so dearly...

Fitzwilliam Darcy rode as if the very demons of hell were on his heels, pursuing him from London as he returned once again to Pemberley. Just the day before, while going through his fencing exercises, sweating and pushing his body to the limits, it was as if he was fencing Satan himself. His demons were of a different kind, however. He was trying to escape, let there be no doubt about that. But he was trying to outrun the most impossible foe of all: his own heart. The battle had been unrelenting for months, ever since that wretched day at Hunsford.

Nay, if he was truly honest with himself, the battle had begun the very first day he ever laid eyes on Elizabeth Bennet. At first, he had battled to hold back the increasing regard he was feeling for her, which grew more acute during her stay at Netherfield and his visit to Rosings Park. Then, he had battled to defend himself against her accusations about his conduct towards Wickham, pouring out his family history to her in a letter.

Since then, and until this very moment, the battle was to conquer and beat back his love for her, to banish and destroy the hope of a life with her that could never be. He tried to let the lush summer countryside of Derbyshire bring him comfort as he rode, but in reality he saw very little of it. His mind was engaged in the battle, the battle he knew he was losing...

The Gardiners and their niece decided they needed a break from the bumpy ride of the carriage over the road. Elizabeth longed to roam over her surroundings for just a little while, and convinced her aunt and uncle to go for a walk with her up into some of the small peaks that jutted up from the landscape. She wanted a better view of the lush scenery, because she imagined the journey up would be just as delightful as the final scenic reward. They set off with one of the servants, and soon Elizabeth was standing on the rocky crest of one of the peaks, with her aunt and uncle and the servant some distance behind and below her. It felt as if the whole of the world was spread out at her feet. She felt light of heart and fully in awe of the creation around her.

From behind her, she heard her aunt call out in concern for her safety, "Elizabeth, be careful! How could I face your father if you took a fall?" Elizabeth couldn't help chuckling slightly to herself at that, since she was certain of being one of the most sure-footed females in England. To prove it to herself, she decided to find a new position on top of the hill...

Darcy found himself pulling up his horse to be still and look at the peaks he knew so well. Even though he had seen them countless times since childhood, there was something so powerfully calming about them that they never ceased to strike him. He now looked to the majestic peaks, hoping they would show him their secrets of stability and serenity. While scanning, searching for answers, his eyes caught on the figure of a woman standing at the highest point in his field of vision. He saw no other signs of human life, and wondered at a woman roaming over the peaks by herself, especially at such a height.

He knew of only one woman who would be comfortable attempting such a thing, but knew he could not reasonably expect her to be anywhere in this part of the country, so near to his home.

While acknowledging the logic of these thoughts, but still looking for a resemblance between the distant woman and the woman of his heart, he was frozen in horror at the sight of the woman suddenly losing her footing and tumbling down the slope of the peak...

Chapter 2

Darcy was frozen, paralyzed by what he had just witnessed. It seemed as if he and his horse were in a state of suspended time. Neither could move; Darcy wasn't sure if he was even breathing. After those first seconds, however, his thoughts began to come back quickly.

Oh, God! That woman is all alone and injured, possibly even dead. What am I going to do? I have to help her, of course, but how? Well, first you have to get to her, man! Move it!

This inner conversation helped Darcy overcome his paralysis and he kicked into the muscular sides of his horse, shooting the both of them forward in the direction of the helpless woman...

On the other side of the hill, hidden from Darcy's view, the Gardiners had just gone through similar moments of shock, horror, and inability to move from their position, made all the worse by not being able to see whether or not their beloved niece was alright. They strained to hear her voice, fought to catch any sound of a laugh to ridicule her own clumsiness, but no such welcome sound was to be had.

The Gardiners turned their heads and looked at each other as Mrs. Gardiner's hands came to cover her mouth with the gasp of one word: "Lizzy!" They knew they had to get to her, now, but as they couldn't risk falling themselves, they had to move up the side of the peak at an agonizingly slow pace. It seemed like lifetimes had passed before they finally managed to gain the rocky summit their niece had occupied only a few minutes before. Just as they reached this point, they saw the tall figure of a gentleman rapidly dismounting his horse and running up the base of the hill to the place where Elizabeth had come to rest...

Darcy knew he was very close to the spot where the woman's descent had ended, but he was interrupted in his single-minded mission by the sight of a man and woman who had just appeared on the crest of the hill.

The only thought this sparked in Darcy's mind was Thank God I am not alone! There is someone else to help me!

He didn't even stop to think of who they were or even if they knew this woman, but he knew he had to enlist their assistance. If they were truly genteel people, which at first glance he thought they were, they would be willing to come to this poor woman's aid. With this in mind, Darcy took full advantage of his take-charge style and started shouting instructions to the two strangers...

The Gardiners would both remark in later days that they would have found Mr. Darcy's manner of address abrupt, and even rude, under any other circumstances. At the present moment, however, their deep emotional distress at seeing their niece lying motionless and being unable to immediately reach her left them willing to follow any direction the stranger would give that could be of help to Elizabeth.

They heard him shout at them, "You there! Please, this woman needs our help! Go to your carriage immediately and ride into the village of Lambton. It is only about a mile or two from here. There, ask to have Dr. Sheldon accompany you at once to my estate at Pemberley. I will take her there on my horse, and we should be there already when you arrive. Now go, quickly!" They could do nothing but comply, as they had no other plan, and so they took one last look at their niece and left her in the care of a man who, if they had had their wits about them, they would have realized was the master of Pemberley himself, Mr. Darcy...

Darcy's instincts had kicked in, and he had regained control of his mind tolerably well. He had sent the man and woman on their way to get the doctor to Pemberley, and now he had to do his part. He still had a short distance to run before he reached the woman, and he did so now without delay. Arriving slightly breathless but relieved to have finally reached her, he saw what he had been unable to see before. Fitzwilliam Darcy's legs could no longer hold him up and he sank to his knees with grief as he saw Elizabeth Bennet's still beautiful but apparently lifeless form lying on the rocky ground before him...

Chapter 3

Life. It was a quality, an idea, a characteristic that Fitzwilliam Darcy had inextricably linked in his mind with Elizabeth Bennet from almost the first day he met her. She had so much zest, so much vitality, so much sparkle and energy and wonder at the world around her… Just so much life. That kind of life was something Darcy had taught himself over the years to live without. He was always too busy, had too many responsibilities, too many worries to spend much time on the business of living. He had been serious as a child, and after the deaths of his parents he had been handed the roles of master of Pemberley and guardian of Georgiana. There was no lightness, no real enjoyment of much of anything in his life from the day his father died and even before that.

Until Elizabeth…. Until the first time she turned those sparkling, amazingly lively eyes in his direction… Until the first time she uttered a witty remark at some comment of his… Until the first time he was able to touch her while they were dancing together at Netherfield.

Like a mirror being held up before his eyes, she had shown him everything he had been missing while he had been so busy being the responsible one. When he was around her, he became a better version of himself. She helped him open parts of himself, pieces of his soul that he had long neglected. Her being so completely alive made him feel alive in ways he had never experienced before. She had captivated him so completely, shined light in so many dark corners of his being, that when she so soundly rejected his offer of marriage he could actually feel himself withdrawing, could see the light going out. For those past few wretched months, he had been even worse off than before he met her. He had been given a taste of what life could be, all the incredible beauty and enjoyment it could offer, and now he was being forced to go on without it. During those months, he had come to believe that nothing could be worse than the pain of such a deprivation.

He believed it until the moment when he first saw her on the ground on that hill in Derbyshire, not moving, not speaking, maybe not even breathing. Life. It was the one thing he had never expected to see her lacking in any way. And to see it now, to see her in that condition, was cutting apart his soul and tearing it out of his body piece by piece. The weight of the emotion had brought him to his knees, and it now drew out of him a cry so overflowing with pain that the very earth beneath him mourned with him:

"Nooooooo!"

Chapter 4

Posted on Sunday, 24 September 2006

He had to know. If he thought he had been paralyzed by watching her fall from a distance, he was as frozen as an ice cube in seeing her lying on the ground just a few feet away from where he was on his knees. But somehow he had to work his way out of his shock and grief to crawl those few feet. He had to get to her. He had to know. He had to find out if she was still alive. From his place at the moment, he couldn't tell. And he had to know. He had to know whether or not he could help her. He had to know if sending the strangers for the doctor had even been worth it. And he had to know whether or not his life was going to end as well. For the one thing he did know, as surely as he knew that he loved her, was that if she were lying dead in front of him, he would just lay down and die right beside her.

He slowly managed to put one hand in front of the other, one knee in front of the other, just like a toddler. And when he finally reached her, when he finally touched her and looked full into her face, he didn't know if the knowing was better or worse than the not knowing?

The Gardiners were just reaching the outskirts of Lambton, and the full weight of what had happened to their niece was still trying to sink into their brains. They said very little in the carriage, both overwhelmed in thoughts and prayers and in remembering what the gentleman had commanded them to do when they reached the village. It was the one thing they had that was keeping them sane, the thing that was keeping them from breaking down. They had a mission, a purpose, and they had to fulfill it. It was the only thing they could do at this point to help Elizabeth.

Elizabeth, whom they had both realized after they were on their way in the carriage that they had left without even knowing if she was alive or dead. But they had to believe she was alive. They had to believe that their mission, their purpose, their pursuit of getting the doctor to Pemberley was not in vain. It was the only thing they could believe.

He had watched her chest rise and fall, had leaned his face down near to hers, and decided that her breathing was the most wonderful thing he had seen or felt in his entire life. While his face was close to hers, he gazed at her beloved features. He hadn't even known a few hours ago if he was ever going to see her again. These were, of course, never the circumstances he would have chosen to bring her back into his circle, but he felt the possibility for redemption. It was in his hands. She had been divinely placed into his hands, and he would not let this opportunity of chance to come to her aid to pass him by.

His heart felt prayer: if only God will allow her to live. If He would only let her live, Darcy could prove to her how much he loved her. He could show her that his life was an empty shell without her. Darcy knew in that moment he would be able to strengthen himself for whatever was ahead. He had to be her strength, and the thought of this is what would see him through. He took the opportunity of having his face so close to hers to gently whisper into her ear. He had no idea whether or not she could hear him, but he had to say it anyway.

He whispered, his voice breaking with all the love and pain mixed together, "You cannot leave me, Elizabeth Bennet. Not now. Not when I have a chance to make amends. Please, stay with me, my love. Don't let yourself slip away. Show that spirit I have come to love so much in you and FIGHT! Hang onto me until I can get you to the doctor. Please do not die, please do not leave me, please."

He continued to plead with her, to try to infuse her with some of his strength as he placed his arms underneath her and cradled her like the treasure she was. He clutched her tightly as he carefully made his way to his patiently waiting horse.

Chapter 5

Dr. Edward Shelton was restless. He got out of his comfortable armchair to pace around the small parlor in his residence, again, and reconsidered for the millionth time his decision to set up his practice in the sleepy village of Lambton right after receiving his license to practice medicine. He was, after all, still very young, and almost everyone knew that the action young physicians craved was to be found in only one place: London. But then he remembered the man whose kindness and generosity had caused him to lean towards and then passionately pursue a career in medicine when he was an even younger man than he was at present.

This gentleman, and the fact that he was raised very near to Lambton, continued to tie him here in opposition to his more wild longings for adventure. He had made a promise, and he intended to keep it. The man who had elicited this promise, God rest his soul, was the deceased father of the current master of Pemberley, Fitzwilliam Darcy. The elder Mr. Darcy had taken notice of Edward Shelton one day when Mr. Darcy's horse had sustained an injury on the main road outside of town, a road that Edward just happened to be walking on at the time. He helped Mr. Darcy tend to the injured animal, and they began a conversation. Mr. Darcy had suggested that Edward had great promise as a doctor for animals, and Edward had confessed his long-standing desire to become a doctor for people instead.

Something about the young man struck Mr. Darcy, and from that day forward he was determined to make sure that Edward Shelton got the chance to follow his dream. It goes without saying that when Edward Shelton eventually became Dr. Edward Shelton, he felt all the gratitude that Mr. Darcy's generosity rightly deserved. Upon Edward's graduation from medical school, Mr. Darcy had taken the opportunity to extract a promise from the young man he had impacted so deeply. Mr. Darcy wanted to make sure there would always be a good physician within an easy distance of his estate at Pemberley, and he knew that the physician in Lambton was nearing retirement. It didn't take too much convincing, all the arrangements were made, and Dr. Edward Shelton took over the practice of Dr. Kingsley of Lambton.

To the great shock and sorrow of the young doctor, Mr. Darcy had passed away not too long after his arrival in Derbyshire. But he would honor the promise he had made to the great gentleman, Mr. Darcy, until the day he himself retired from his profession. He would stay in Lambton so that he could remain close to the Darcy family, to take care of them as Mr. Darcy had wanted. Absorbed in thoughts of all he might be missing in London, and yet eternally grateful for Mr. Darcy's assistance, he ceased his pacing as a frantic man and woman, accompanied by a servant, burst into his parlor and nearly shouted, "Please! You must help us! You must come with us to Pemberley at once!"

It took a bit of maneuvering, but Darcy managed to get both himself and Elizabeth up on his horse. He took every step, made every move, with the swiftest of caution. He could not get her to the doctor fast enough. He would have snapped his fingers and had Dr. Shelton appear magically before him if he only had the power. Time was precious, but he knew he couldn't jostle her too much, not knowing how seriously she was injured. Imagination, hopes, and prayers led him to envision every few seconds that she would just open her eyes, gaze up into his, laugh that beautiful beloved laugh, and they would go for a lovely ride in the countryside with everything being right in the world. But this ride would be much more urgent, with a heart much more heavy, than his imagined scenario.

Right now, he knew, he would just have to content himself with continuing to feel her breath, continuing to hear her heart beating as he held her close. These were the threads of his sanity, the reason that he would press on to get to Pemberley. If he lost these signs of life from her, he would lose everything. He heaved a deep sigh, full of desperation and longing, and kicked gently into the sides of his horse. He whispered to her again, "Hold tight, my love. We will be home soon. Dr. Shelton will come, and everything will be alright. Everything will be alright." As he said it, he tightened his grip around her, trying to convince himself that it was true.

As soon as he heard the couple mention the word Pemberley, Dr. Shelton was already moving across the room to get his bag with his medicines and supplies in it. For whatever reason he was needed, he would go. He didn't need to ask questions. He assumed these strangers would explain the situation as they traveled to Pemberley. It would save time not to press for details as they stood in his parlor.

After making sure he had everything (which was impossible considering he didn't know what he would face on his arrival), he turned to the man and woman and said quickly, "Let us go at once. You can fill me in once we are on the road." Dr. Edward Shelton was sure he would never forget the look of pure relief and gratitude on the faces of those two human beings for as long as he lived. He closed the door of his house behind him, climbed into the waiting carriage, and asked with as much calm in his voice as he could muster, "Now, tell me what is going on." As the couple introduced themselves as Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner and began to tell him their story, the thought crept into the back of his brain that he might just get some adventure in sleepy little Lambton after all.

Chapter 6

Elizabeth Bennet was lost, lost in the prison of her own injured body, and trapped inside her own mind. When she was a little girl, her worst nightmare had not been about monsters or goblins or gypsies. No, the nightmare that had been most frightening to her as a child might have made others look at her in bewilderment if she had told them of it.

The dream started with her in a very small house, but it could only really be called a house because it had four walls and a roof. There were no windows, only the one room, and nothing but dirt for the floor. In the center of that one room was a large, deep pit with very smooth sides. No way out of the pit. Nothing to hold onto to help a person climb out and the walls were far too high even if you managed to hold onto something. In her nightmare, Elizabeth was in the pit. It was dark and cold and there was no way out. She cried out for help, over and over, and expended all the energy she could to try to climb out of the pit, but she could never get out.

The feelings of exhaustion, helplessness, and fear of a long, slow death had terrified her more than any monster ever could. It had been years since she had dreamt this dream, but now it all flooded back, more real than ever. It seemed like she was living her nightmare. She was trying to get out of the pit, trying to fight and claw her way back to the surface, but it was no use. It just took too much energy, energy she knew she didn't have.

Yet something was different from the nightmare of her youth. Something had changed. Somehow, in the midst of all that darkness and exhaustion, Elizabeth got the sense that there was someone at the top of the pit. Someone was talking to her, calling down to her, encouraging her, trying to help her get out. She had never felt any security, any hope, any love in her nightmare before. Now it was there, someone was there with her, and she knew she could keep climbing, keep trying, until she and her helper found a way to get her out of the pit. For now, she decided in her clouded mind to lean against one of the walls, get some of her energy back, and prepare for her next attempt to escape her nightmare.

Darcy kept talking to her, had to keep talking to her, even though it was a one-sided conversation. He was glad that Elizabeth's fall had not taken place at a very great distance from Pemberley, and yet the time seemed to stretch into many long hours in his desperation to get her there, to get her to help. But no matter how slow the trip to Pemberley seemed on this day, it would have seemed as slow as flowing molasses had he not been able to talk to her.

He talked about everything and nothing. He babbled mindlessly about his recent business dealings and social commitments, described the scenery they were riding through without really seeing it, talked about the expected arrival of his sister and Mr. Bingley at Pemberley in the next day or two. Eventually, however, his emotions so overwhelmed him that he had to just start pouring out his heart. Whether she could hear him or not didn't matter. He just had to let her know how much he needed her, how empty and desolate he had been without her these past months, how he longed to show her his reformed and humbled self in the hopes that she would come to accept his attentions towards her. He told her every single thing he loved about her. He told her how he loved her stunning physical beauty, with her eyes so amazingly bright they floored him every time he looked at her. He told her how he loved her caring and loving heart, the one that led her to Netherfield covered in mud without paying heed to what Miss Bingley would think. He told her how he loved her sharp and learned mind, the one that challenged him to look at the world in new ways and always kept him on his toes. He said it all with a voice choking with tenderness and breaking with tears barely held beneath the surface.

When the outer boundary of the Pemberley lands finally came into view, he actually managed a tiny smile. Pulling up his horse for just a minute, he said to her, "We are nearly there, darling Elizabeth. I will get you to Dr. Shelton and he will bring you back to me. You will see, now that I finally have you at Pemberley where you belong, there is no way I am going to let you get away!" With this new resolve, he was ready to kick into his horse again to take them to the house. He stopped dead in his tracks when he looked down at Elizabeth, realizing that she had just stopped breathing.

It was just too hard. She couldn't fight anymore, couldn't find any more strength to get herself out of the pit. She laid down in the dirt at the bottom of the pit and closed her eyes, wishing for the ultimate release. But her helper at the top of the pit was growing louder and more insistent, and the man's voice she heard was somehow familiar. She decided to listen to him for just a little longer.

"ELIZABETH! ELIZABETH NO! COME BACK TO ME! YOU CANNOT LEAVE ME! BREATHE ELIZABETH, BREATHE! OH GOD, PLEASE DO NOT TAKE HER! YOU ARE NOT A QUITTER, ELIZABETH BENNET, YOU ARE A FIGHTER! FIGHT YOUR WAY BACK! BREATHE, PLEASE BREATHE!" He gently shook her, stroking her hair, kissing her face, and shouting as if trying to make sure God heard him.

"You are a fighter, Elizabeth. He says you are, and you know you do not want to stay here. Get yourself up off this floor and try."

"But it is too hard and I am so tired."

"Has that ever stopped you before?"

"I do not know, I cannot think."

"You do know, just as you know that you can do this. Go to him, climb to him. Come on get up -- try again!"

"Oh, leave me alone."

"It is worth it, Elizabeth. Trust me, he is worth it."

That decided it. The battle between the two sides of Elizabeth's mind was decided. She found her inspiration for the strength to pull herself up off the floor and using only her hands started to dig out holes from the smooth sides of the pit. She would make something to hang onto. She would make her own way out. Up above, at the top, her promise was waiting; that he would be worth it.

Thus, on a horse on the outskirts of Pemberley, Fitzwilliam Darcy gave a primitive cry of joy as Elizabeth Bennet's breathing returned, strong and normal.

Chapter 7

Posted on Sunday, 1 October 2006,

Dr. Edward Shelton listened intently as Mr. and Mrs. Edward Gardiner explained the terrible circumstances that had led them to his door, which now led them pounding across the five mile distance from Lambton to Pemberley in the Gardiner's carriage. Dr. Shelton liked certainty and order in his life, even though he didn't often find it in his profession. He knew from hearing the Gardiners tell of the accident involving their niece, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, that he wasn't going to get a lot of certainty and order with this patient. He tried to draw the strands of their story together in his mind, but in reality he had very little idea of what to expect on his arrival at Mr. Darcy's estate. The Gardiners had been in such a rush to fetch him after the accident that they could give him very little information about their niece's condition. And although they couldn't say it in so many words, they didn't even know if it was worth it for Dr. Shelton to be making this trip with them.

He read between the lines of their strained faces and barely-controlled voices the fact that they had left in such a hurry that they were completely unaware of whether or not their niece had survived her fall. Knowing that this was one of the most distressing aspects of their present situation, Dr. Shelton tried to provide as much comfort and assurance as possible to these strangers he had been thrown together with so suddenly. Eventually, however, the three occupants of the carriage fell into a thick, weighty silence. Dr. Shelton's heart was caught up in the knowledge that he would do anything required for anyone even remotely connected with Pemberley. He just hoped the medical knowledge in his mind would be enough to match the resolve in his heart. The Gardiners simply sat with their hands tightly clasped together, forming once again the bond that was still so steady and strong and vibrant after all their years of marriage. In their minds they sent all their positive thoughts and prayers to Elizabeth across the miles that separated them, trying not to let their thoughts dwell on what they might find on their arrival.

No more caution, no more walking his horse along at a snail's pace, unfortunately no more than a passing thought now as to whether or not he was further injuring Elizabeth; Darcy simply kicked into the sides of his bewildered horse with all his might and decided to sprint the rest of the short distance from the outer boundary of Pemberley to the main house. Recent events had cast all other considerations aside, and he focused on the one that was most important. He had to get her to the doctor.

Just a short while ago, he had helplessly clasped his beloved to himself as she had taken a journey to the brink and back again, and it had shaken him beyond measure, beyond description. Darcy was really unsure of how any human being could survive the continual soarings and divings his emotions had undergone in just the past few hours. The contradictions of the situation were boggling his mind. She had reappeared in his life again, but he had almost lost her forever. She was so close to him physically, her body cradled against his as he galloped with her across the countryside, but her mind was in a place he couldn't reach, couldn't pull her back out. This encounter with the ultimate pain of seeing his dearest Elizabeth in such a condition and being completely helpless to heal her had finally managed to bring forth tears from his eyes. They were freely flowing now, nearly blinding him as he pushed his horse to the limits of endurance.

They finally came up over the hill that brought the lake, the gardens, and the great house into view. The frantic nature and bone-crushing pace of the man and woman on the horse seemed out of place with the surroundings of Pemberley, which seemed peaceful and unchanging. The lake still supported its bounty of fish, the flowers were in the full splendor of their summer blooms, and the house rose up from the landscape with all the majesty it had when it had been built many generations ago. These images flowed into Darcy's system as the horse hit the gravel drive up to the main entrance of the house.

When they reached it, Darcy yanked on the reins and didn't even bother to wipe the tears from his eyes and face. He wished with all the strength left in his soul that this place he loved above all others would be able to inject its lifeblood and spirit into the woman he loved above all others. Otherwise, Pemberley would now and forevermore be a place of unbearable sorrow, to which he would never be able to return.

The Gardiner's carriage came around a large grove of trees, revealing the lake glistening in the late-day sun and the magnificent structure formed of stone and glass and iron. A lifetime ago, or a time that seemed that long ago, the Gardiners had pictured themselves coming along this drive with Elizabeth, experiencing her enjoyment of the grounds and happily situated house right along with her. Now, however, as the carriage wheels passed over the road that Mr. Darcy had just traveled with their niece some minutes before, they did not know whether this place would hold enjoyment and happiness or grief and sorrow.

Mrs. Gardiner could not turn her mind off, could not forget the last fateful words she had shouted to Elizabeth before she watched her disappear over the edge of the peak. The words played in her head, over and over again, like a doomsday prophecy:

Elizabeth, be careful! How could I face your father if you took a fall?

Now, that awful meeting with Mr. Bennet would have to take place, but Mrs. Gardiner battled with herself to not think about it until she knew what news she would have to deliver to him; the bad news, or the worst news a parent could ever hear.

Chapter 8

Out of all the gardeners, cooks, maids, stable-hands, and myriad other categories of servants that made Pemberley run on a daily basis, none was more important to the smooth sailing at the estate than the main housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds. Most were unsure about exactly how long Mrs. Reynolds had been at Pemberley; she had been there at least since the current master of Pemberley was a child. There were two undisputed facts that governed life at Pemberley: Mr. Darcy was the master, but Mrs. Reynolds ruled the roost. She oversaw all the tiny details of running the massive estate on a day-to-day basis, and had even more responsibilities during Mr. Darcy's extended absences. Since her master was expected home within the next forty-eight hours, she had been busily preparing everyone and everything to receive him properly. His rooms needed to be aired out, the closets and bedding had to be prepared, the library and sitting rooms needed dusting and polishing, the china and silverware had to be polished, the kitchen had to be stocked, the gardens had to be manicured, and the horses had to be groomed. There were countless things to be organized, conflicts to try to resolve, and laziness to combat in the midst of all this. Mrs. Reynolds did it all with the commitment, leadership, and unquestioned authority of the best admiral or general in the service of His Majesty.

Mrs. Reynolds was spending her late summer afternoon trying to explain to one of the maids for what seemed like the tenth time that one needed to move the papers off the desk in the library before dusting and polishing it. She was gentle, but firm, and she sent the young girl off again to see if she could get it right before the master got home. Heading for the kitchen to check on the menu for the next week's meals, Mrs. Reynolds heard a great commotion at the front entrance. Her first thought, of course, was Oh, no! The master came back early! I hope at least that the bedrooms are ready for him! She walked swiftly out into the main hallway to greet her master. She was eager to see him again because she really had a great deal of affection for the boy she had watched through the years as he had become a fine young man. Yet, no amount of experience, training, or preparation could have prepared Mrs. Reynolds for what she saw.

Mr. Darcy dismounted his horse, taking Elizabeth down off the horse with him. He had one arm behind her back and the other beneath her knees, holding her tightly against his own body as the attendant at the front entrance ran up to tend to the horse. He shouted at the young servant, more brusquely than he would have under normal circumstances, "Get that horse to the stable quickly! Has any carriage arrived yet carrying Dr. Shelton?"

Once he heard the boy's stammering reply that no carriage had come that day, Darcy turned and strode through the entrance to the house. To the very next servant he saw, Darcy yelled, "Go up to my rooms and prepare the bed immediately for Miss Bennet. Light a fire and bring extra pillows and blankets. And when Dr. Shelton arrives, send him up IMMEDIATELY!"

Mrs. Reynolds approached him with a perplexed and concerned look on her face, but she knew her master. She knew that he would explain what was going on and who this woman was that wasn't Miss Georgianna. She could also tell that he had been crying and wisely knew that it was not her place to comment on it. He did not break his stride for an instant as he headed towards the stairs, so she simply fell into step beside him.

Darcy felt as though an anvil was removed from his neck as soon as he saw the reliable and immensely capable Mrs. Reynolds. She would help relieve some of his burdens and would give Elizabeth all the assistance that was in her power to give. Perhaps most importantly, she would not ask any unnecessary questions about the nature of his relationship with Elizabeth. He realized that she was waiting for him to explain the remarkable scene she had walked into, and he began, "This is Miss Elizabeth Bennet, an acquaintance of mine from my time in Hertfordshire. She took a fall at the peaks and she is injured, I think rather seriously. I sent a man and woman whom I saw on the peak ahead to Lambton to fetch Dr. Shelton for her, and hopefully they should be arriving soon. I know you have probably not been preparing very many of the other rooms, so I will take her to my rooms. Come with me and help me get her comfortably situated, and please make sure everything in the room is prepared for her convalescence. She may be with us for some time."

By the time Darcy had given her all the necessary instructions, they reached his bedroom. He moved quickly to the bed, and then paused. Ever since he had picked her up and carried her onto his horse, Darcy had never once let go of Elizabeth, and now he found himself very reluctant to do so. He hadn't realized until that moment standing next to his bed that the physical contact with her had become so vital to him since the accident. He believed that the physical link was not only a part of what was keeping her with him, but that it was also a part of what was keeping him sane. Her warmth, her breath, the beating of her heart; they were all helping to keep him hanging on to hope.

From behind him, he heard Mrs. Reynolds trying to call him back into reality: "Sir?"

It was time. He gathered his courage, took a deep breath, and gently laid Elizabeth down on the bed…his bed,. Backing away to let Mrs. Reynolds and the other servants do some work to get her comfortable, Darcy was struck by the surreal nature of the scene. When all the servants except Mrs. Reynolds had completed their tasks, Darcy took a chair from nearby, pulled it up beside the bed, and resumed his physical contact with Elizabeth by taking her hand in both of his. His eyes were fixed on her still unmoving form as he waited for the salvation he hoped Dr. Shelton was bringing to them.

Chapter 9

Mrs. Reynolds was many things, to many people, but one thing she was not…stupid. Like her master, she too was struck with the sadness of the plight of the young woman who had come under the protection of Pemberley's roof, but she recognized within the first few minutes of her involvement in the situation that it was something more for Mr. Darcy. He was somehow more invested in this situation, in this woman, than he would have been with just any ordinary "acquaintance from Hertfordshire," as he had put it. Had Mrs. Reynolds been at liberty to speak of it (which she was not, of course), she would have described Mr. Darcy as presently existing within a sort of bubble. Even though she was trying to assist him as much as possible as she moved around the room making Miss Elizabeth Bennet comfortable in her new surroundings, Mrs. Reynolds knew that she herself was not within the bubble. No, there were only two in the bubble, or the haze her master was moving through; himself and Miss Bennet.

He had not stopped looking at her, had barely stopped touching her somehow since he came through the front door. His mind was most definitely absorbed in her and her present distress. Mr. Darcy was a man known far and wide for his focus and determination, and no one knew these parts of his personality better than Mrs. Reynolds. In his dealings with all his tenants and servants, he knew his course and steered it with a single-mindedness of purpose that truly reached into every facet of his life and the life of Pemberley. But even in all her interactions with Mr. Darcy over the years, all the things she had heard about his dealings with others, she had never been so aware of this part of him as she was in this moment. His mind, his strength, his entire being seemed tuned in to Miss Bennet and her alone. All these observations served to strengthen Mrs. Reynolds' intuition that at least for Mr. Darcy, there was more than the sentiment of mere acquaintance guiding his feelings and actions. She also got the sense that the only thing that could possibly penetrate the fog was the arrival of Dr. Shelton, and she prayed for all their sakes that he would be carried on the wings of angels to get to them.

How long had it been? How long had they been in the carriage? How long was it since they had left Lizzy? How long since they had found Dr. Shelton?

All sense of time seemed lost for the Gardiners, who were both trying to keep their focus on what they would learn of their niece in the next few minutes, not on all the uncertainty of the past few hours. Like them, Dr. Shelton seemed poised and ready to burst forth from the carriage as soon as it pulled to a stop outside Pemberley, which it was ready to do very shortly. He too was ready to lay to rest all the uncertainty of their situation and finally know what, if anything was to be done for his patient.

For the first time in a very long time, a voice was heard inside the carriage, and Dr. Shelton said to the Gardiners, "I will lead the way once we get into the house. Mr. Darcy and your niece are most likely already here, and the servants will know exactly where we are needed. I will make a quick but thorough examination of your niece, so that you may at once compose an express to be sent to the rest of her family."

As Dr. Shelton expected, the Gardiners responded by doing their best to smile, expressing their gratitude in weak but heartfelt voices, and then falling back into silence. The three hearts and mind in the carriage were all distinctly aware of the possibilities of what awaited them beyond the grand entrance, but none of them knew if they were ready to deal with them. Too late. The driver of the carriage finally gave a tug to pull the horses to a stop, and the doorman at Pemberley knew that he had never seen three people get themselves out of a carriage in quite so great a hurry.

Darcy felt himself slowly going crazy. His mind kept bouncing to random thoughts about Elizabeth. He thought of the irony of sitting here in his room at Pemberley with her in his bed, a place where she would have already been for many months if she had accepted his offer of marriage at Hunsford. He thought of how horrible it was that it had taken her being on the brink of death to finally get her close to him again. Now, if she could but be made well again, he told himself he would not care if she were on the other side of the world. It was a nice thought anyway, even if it wasn't completely true. He marveled that in these circumstances, but in no others, could he do away with social convention and hold hands with a woman to which he wasn't even engaged.

Darcy wasn't sure at this point what he would do if someone tried to question his holding her hand. He felt himself going crazy, but he didn't think he had enough energy to lash out at anyone. He would most likely just stay silent, stare, and keep his grip just the way it was right now. His agony deepened with every tick of the clock on the mantel in his room. Every moment Dr. Shelton wasn't there. Every moment she lay there with no movement, not even a twitch of her eyelids. Every moment that he lived with the horror of remembering her breathing coming to a halt. Knowing that with every tick, his bed could become her death bed.

These thoughts, and that incessant ticking of the clock, were slowly but surely driving him mad. He finally heard another sound besides that damned clock -- it was movement outside the door! In another second, he released his breath (not even realizing that he had been holding it) and saw Mrs. Reynolds, the man and woman from the peak, and the second most beloved face in the world to him at that moment, Dr. Shelton.

Chapter 10

Posted on Wednesday, 4 October 2006

Dr. Shelton did not claim to be an expert on human behavior and personalities. That was not his specialty. He was a medical doctor; he could fix people's bodies (generally speaking) but he would never claim to know what made people tick emotionally. Even so, he was truly gifted in the study of human emotions that best suited his profession. He understood grief and joy, the highs and lows, the hope of good news and the despair of bad. These he could read in an instant, and he knew all their degrees and variations.

As he entered the room, he should have been focused on the task at hand. He should have been focused on his patient, especially after all the uncertainty of the carriage ride that had just ended. He should have been focused on providing some kind of information, possibly some relief to the Gardiners as soon as possible. Even though he knew all this to be true, as soon as he stepped into Mr. Darcy's bedroom his progress was arrested at the sight of his benefactor's son. The force and the weight of the scene he had walked into almost robbed him of breath, made him feel like he had been physically punched in the stomach. Pain, despair, longing, hope; all of them hung so heavily in the tastefully lavish bedroom that Dr. Shelton felt like he could reach out and grasp them in his hands. This was coupled with the crushing weight of responsibility he felt as he looked from Mr. Darcy to the Gardiners and back again.

Dr. Shelton could tell that Darcy tried to compose himself as the party entered, but as he continued to grip Miss Bennet's hand his eyes locked and sent a silent but powerful plea to Dr. Shelton: "You must save her. Use all your skill and more if you must, call upon the experts of your profession and the legions of heaven, spare no expense or effort. You MUST save her."

When he looked back to the Gardiners, their eyes held similar messages: "This girl is as dear to us as one of our own children. On behalf of her parents and ourselves, we are entrusting her to your care. Please do not let our trust be misplaced. We are counting on the help of strangers to see our family through this."

Dr. Shelton squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment to try to shore himself up for what was to come. The emotions of the sickroom had never shown themselves so plainly as they did in this room, at this moment. But Dr. Shelton knew from experience that along with the weight of responsibility came the possibility of an even more crushing blow; the impotence and helplessness of the times when all his medical knowledge could do nothing to help. "Let that not be the case this time! he pleaded silently."

He finally willed himself to step forward and address Mr. Darcy by saying, "Sir, we arrived as soon as we could. This is Mr. and Mrs. Edward Gardiner. They are Miss Bennet's aunt and uncle who were traveling with her from Hertfordshire. They have given me as much information as they had about what happened, but it would be vastly helpful to me and to Miss Bennet if you can give me all the details of her condition since you first found her."

As all attention in the room turned to the motionless woman on the bed, Edward Shelton marveled at all he had seen so far and wondered if Elizabeth Bennet had any concept of how much she was loved?

For all that Dr. Shelton knew about the ebb and flow of emotions in a sickroom, the Gardiners were learning as they went along. They were also struck by the melancholy of seeing their niece lying practically lifeless in the bed that seemed to dwarf her. But they were unprepared for the waves of shock and relief they would experience in such rapid succession as they listened in amazement to Mr. Darcy's account of everything that had occurred with Lizzy since they had left her with him. They admired his attempts to carry her and ride with her carefully as he began the tale.

Mr. Gardiner especially felt connected to the young man as one of sound judgment and good upbringing. Both of the Gardiners gasped in astonishment and horror when they heard that Lizzy had stopped breathing for a short while. They saw the unveiled look of concern this information caused in Dr. Shelton's features, and Mr. Darcy seemed to be almost wincing as he relived those agonizing moments. Since their niece was, they now knew, still alive at this moment, their hearts filled with gratitude to God and to all the successive efforts of Mr. Darcy to preserve and protect their niece. There was no scolding, no concern, only complete understanding and applause for Mr. Darcy's decision to ride quickly the rest of the way to get Elizabeth to Pemberley.

Mr. Gardiner knew he would have reacted the same way; Mrs. Gardiner knew that it was what Mr. Bennet would have wished if he were here. Finally, they knew all that had transpired from the moment they had first seen Mr. Darcy on the peaks through all the anxious moments on their way to Lambton to find Dr. Shelton and beyond to their carriage ride to Pemberley. Of course, they did not yet know, could not possibly know all that had transpired; those whisperings, those words of love and longing and pleading were left between the man who was rapidly earning their trust and the niece they had known her whole life. Both the Gardiners were very astute, quick-minded people, but they were so caught up in Dr. Shelton getting started in his examination of Lizzy that they missed some of the obvious signs of the total loving surrender of Mr. Darcy to their niece.

Their first opportunity to speak one-on-one with him was coming, however; Dr. Shelton asked them all to step out of the room so he could have absolute concentration until his examination was complete. No one wanted him to miss anything, so they readily agreed, and the three all turned and stole a look at Elizabeth on their way out the door.

At no point until he stepped outside that door had Darcy experienced the emotions of the sickroom as an outsider. He had been immersed in them, so wrapped up in them that he had almost failed to notice their existence. His own turmoil was within; he didn't see how it flowed and spread outward to permeate every corner of the room. Somehow he had made it through the telling of his experiences with Elizabeth on that ride across Derbyshire with composure and respectability.

As soon as he knew that the two strangers he had sent after Dr. Shelton on the peaks were Elizabeth's uncle and aunt, he had made a concerted effort to be strong for their sakes. He could not imagine what he would have suffered over all those miles and all that time being separated from Elizabeth and not knowing how she was doing. It was almost worse than the story he told, because at least he could be with her. If those horrible moments that had made the Gardiners gasp when he told of them, had been Elizabeth's last moments on this Earth, at least he would have been the last human contact she had. At least he had been able to hold her and talk to her and tell her all the hows and whys and ins and outs of his love for her. Even in the midst of his turmoil and grief, Darcy could not be selfish, and his heart went out to them for all the uncertainty and anguish they must have experienced since Elizabeth's accident.

He didn't care about their connections, or where they lived, or what Mr. Gardiner did for a living. He knew they loved Elizabeth, just as he did, and he somehow sensed that he would like to earn these people's respect and confidence. So even though he hated to leave her, he managed to pull himself the farthest distance from Elizabeth he had been since the accident to try to provide some accommodation and comfort for her relatives.

Chapter 11

"I wish I had the power to look inside you. I wish I could somehow unlock the secrets that your injured body is hiding from me. I came here to try to relieve the uncertainty of your relatives and Mr. Darcy. Now, I don't know if I will be doing anything but giving them more uncertainty. This is the great failing of my profession, I'm afraid. Sometimes we just have to wait for the patient to show us what the outcome will be, and that's what it seems we'll have to do with you, Miss Bennet."

Heaving a great, frustrated, exhausted sigh, Dr. Shelton pushed from his knee off the bed and stood on the floor in Mr. Darcy's bedroom. He had tried to be thorough, but at the same time rapid in his examination of Elizabeth Bennet. He had a good sense of what the people on the other side of the door were experiencing, and he didn't want to leave them in suspense any longer than was necessary. But while he should have been striding out the door to deliver his report on Miss Bennet's prognosis, he paused next to the bed and looked at his patient again. He somehow felt the need to do his own bit of pleading with her before he went to talk to those outside. Thus he sent her his thoughts again:

"I may be the doctor here, Miss Bennet, but in some way this is in your hands now. I know we have never met before, but I can already tell some things about you by how important you are to those three people standing in the hallway. I will do everything I can, and they will be here encouraging you and helping you as well, but you have to help us. You have to do your part to come back to these people who love you. Don't quit this life just yet, Miss Bennet. You are so young, and you have so much ahead of you. Don't give up on them!"

He sighed again; it came as a natural reaction to the whole situation, even more so now than at any other time he had to give less-than-wonderful news. Trying to prepare himself mentally to deliver both the optimism and the realism of Miss Bennet's condition, he turned away from her and began moving towards the majestic English oak door with the sculpted knob.

"I wish I had the power to look inside you. I wish I had the ability to read your thoughts while you pace back and forth so incessantly that a hole is beginning to appear in your flooring. I know that you are acquainted with Lizzy, but that doesn't explain your behavior. By all accounts you are supposed to be cold, distant, untouched by situations like this one. But it is completely obvious to anyone with eyes that you are almost jumping out of your skin to find out what is going on behind that door. What is in your head, Mr. Darcy? Or maybe the question should be, what is in your heart?"

Mrs. Gardiner's gaze bounced between three spots; Mr. Darcy, her husband, and the doorknob. The three who had been banished spoke very little now as the minutes grew longer while they waited for Dr. Shelton to reappear, though they had conversed a little bit at the beginning.

"Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, though of course I wish it could be under happier circumstances than those we face at present. I wasn't aware of your connection to Eliz…er, Miss Bennet when I saw you on the peaks, and I apologize for separating you from her for so long. You will, of course, be completely welcome at Pemberley for as long as your niece is recovering."

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy. We are equally pleased to meet you, sir. Do not concern yourself about sending us for Dr. Shelton; the plan was the most efficient one possible, which under the circumstances was a great relief. Your hospitality is most appreciated. We could stay in the rooms we reserved at the Inn at Lambton if we are too much trouble to you, however."

"Not at all, madam. My utmost concern is Miss Bennet's comfort, and she will be more at ease if you are nearby at all times. And you would not like to be so distant from her again, I think?"

"You are correct in that, Mr. Darcy. Lizzy is as dear to us as any of our own children, and we will stay for as long as she needs us."

"I understand completely, Mrs. Gardiner. Yes, I fully understand your desire to stay close to her."

The contents of that conversation, and the present waiting and watching, were stirring interesting musings in Mrs. Gardiner's sharp mind. Obviously her mind was primarily concerned with her niece's condition, but with Mr. Darcy before her now, she couldn't help but draw some conclusions.

First, she was sure that Lizzy had not told them everything about her connection with Mr. Darcy. There was something major in their previous history that Lizzy had left out in all her communications about this man. According to what she knew, Mrs. Gardiner had believed Mr. Darcy to be cold and indifferent to her niece after his treatment of her in Hertfordshire and his previous behavior to Wickham. These ideas did not seem to mesh at all with the man who stood, or rather paced, outside his bedroom door at present. He had almost called her Elizabeth, but stopped himself. His voice had been full of strain and meaning when he spoke of her, and his eyes seemed to be trying to bore through the door and walls into the room where Elizabeth lay. He almost behaved...like a husband.

That was it! Mrs. Gardiner had to stop her hand from flying up to her mouth as the events of a few short minutes ago came back in total recall. She had been so caught up in seeing Lizzy that she hadn't noticed right away what Mr. Darcy was doing when they entered the room. But now, in the waiting, in the chasm between the three outside the room and the two inside it, while the thoughts had a chance to wander in an attempt to distract from the enormity of the situation, Mrs. Gardiner locked on a picture in her brain. The picture, which was so clear it was like seeing it live, was of a pair of clasped hands, one limp and lifeless, the other gripping as if trying to pass its life to the one it held. Mr. Darcy had been holding Lizzy's hand, with no one else in the room.

"Could it be? Could it be that this incredibly proud man had lost his heart to their niece? That his coldness had been an attempt to shield himself from the possibility of feeling anything for her?" The sound of footsteps approaching from the other side of the door held these thoughts frozen for now, as all attention again shifted to what was happening to Lizzy.

"I wish I had the power to look inside you. I wish I knew what you were going to say before you said it, so I could prepare my heart for the surge of joy or the crash of despair. What do you know about her? What were you able to discover? Is my treasure, my most beloved coming back to me, or is she lost to me forever? I do not even know if I will be able to hear that from you if indeed that message is coming. I will not be able to hold vigil and have to watch her slip slowly but surely away from me. I would go too, just as slowly perhaps but just as surely. Please, Dr. Shelton, take pity on me, on us, and do not leave us in suspense any longer! You hold two lives in the balance; hers and mine."

Through Darcy's sickening worry was seeping anger and impatience. He wished he could give the Gardiners more comfort and reassurance, but he just couldn't understand what was taking so long! His sense of time was completely warped, of course, but that didn't make it any less real to him. His conversation with Elizabeth's aunt and uncle had pleased him, though (as much as anything but seeing Lizzy awake and well could do for him).

They truly were very well-mannered, genteel people, and he would do his best to make sure they were well taken care of while under Pemberley's roof. If taking care of them was all he could do to help Elizabeth, he would do it with all the love and care he had. He wished it didn't have to be in these circumstances, but even now it seemed right to him that Elizabeth should be under his roof, under the wings of his care and protection. He wanted nothing more than to be able to provide for her every need, to keep her safe and make her feel protected and loved. He would do it for the rest of their lives, if only she would let him. And if only God would let her live.

When the door finally opened, revealing the weary face and drooped shoulders of Dr. Shelton, Darcy slammed to a stop in his pacing and turned to face the verdict. Dr. Shelton looked to all three of them and said, "I have examined her as thoroughly as I can. The major problem is the injury to her head. She has no other injuries other than some scrapes and bruises, but the knocks to her head she took in the fall cannot be overlooked. Fortunately, she is young and in good health otherwise, and there is a very good chance that she will wake up and recover fully. However, there is no telling when that may happen, and there is a chance that she will not wake up at all. There is nothing I or anyone else can do except make her as comfortable as possible and wait to see how her body responds."

Chapter 12

It hadn't helped at all, not one bit. She would be alright…maybe. She would wake up…possibly. She would return to him and he would finally have a chance to win her heart…if all went well? But it might not?"

The waiting, the tearing at his soul, the tug of despair and the glow of hope, would continue until Elizabeth gave her own verdict on her fate. Hers would be the decisive one, much more so than the one Dr. Shelton had just delivered. Darcy knew that Dr. Shelton was the best; his father had trusted him, and that was enough to convince Darcy that his Elizabeth was in the best possible hands. He also knew that he couldn't help the frustration and helplessness that boiled up anew inside him as soon as he heard Dr. Shelton proclaim that all he could do, all anyone could do was wait.

"And what am I waiting for, Darcy thought in agony. Waiting to see when she will finally be taken from me for good? Waiting to be just another mourner at her funeral, but one whose pain runs deeper than anyone else could fathom? Waiting for a part of my very heart and soul to be ripped from my body for the rest of my life? Waiting until I will see her take her last, slow breath, but knowing that unlike the last time she will not be restored to me?"

He let his mind reach into all these deep, dark places, knowing he was pushing himself over the edge with these thoughts, until the movement and words of the others in the hallway slapped him harshly back into the moment. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, doing an admirable job of holding themselves together, were thanking Dr. Shelton for all of his assistance, and he was giving them his assurances that he would be staying at Pemberley until their niece was out of the woods.

Then Mrs. Gardiner turned to face Mr. Darcy, and the anguish in both their eyes touched something deep in the other, and they spoke volumes to each other without saying a word. To Mrs. Gardiner, the look in the young man's eyes told her everything she needed to know about his feelings for her niece. All her previous speculation and suspicions were instantly confirmed. His love for Lizzy was so raw and exposed in that moment that it was like a sign across his forehead, proclaiming his love to all those observant enough to read the sign.

To Darcy, he saw her love for her niece, but also her knowledge of the pitiful situation of his own heart, that it would forever rest with the woman laying in the next room. Her face softened, her eyes sent him a look of understanding, and he knew he had an ally. With her gentle voice, Mrs. Gardiner addressed him with a very important and necessary request: "Mr. Darcy, we obviously want to go in and check on Lizzy, but we also feel the need to get word as soon as possible to all the family at Longbourn about what has happened to her. Mr. Bennet especially will want to come here as quickly as possible. Could you please direct my husband and me to a place where we could draft an express to Longbourn? We would also appreciate your assistance in getting it sent out immediately."

"Of course!" Darcy had not even thought before about Elizabeth's parents and her sisters, that they knew nothing at present about what had occurred on the peaks hours before. Mentally kicking himself for not having taken charge of this detail himself, he responded, "Indeed, her family should be informed at once. Come with me to my library, I have all the necessary materials. When you have finished it, ring the bell for Mrs. Reynolds and she will take your express to my own personal courier and send him on his way to Longbourn this very hour. While you are composing the express, I will make sure that everything is being made ready for your stay. I will also prepare more rooms for the arrival of Mr. Bennet and any of the rest of the family that makes the journey with him.

Mrs. Reynolds will bring you back up to Miss Bennet whenever you are ready to see her." Gesturing for them to follow him down the hallway and back to the first floor library, Darcy turned back and nodded to Dr. Shelton. With unspoken communication, the doctor knew this was a direction to go back in and watch over Miss Bennet until either Darcy or the Gardiners could return. Dr. Shelton stepped back inside the room where Elizabeth still lay. Darcy continued down the hall with the Gardiners, his thoughts were suddenly flooded with memories and thoughts of everything he loved about Elizabeth.

She hadn't backed down from him that first night in Hertfordshire when he had refused to dance with her at the assembly rooms. She had held her head high and laughingly challenged and mocked him with her eyes and her whispered comments to her friend Miss Lucas. She had met him with that same steady gaze when he ran into her unexpectedly outside Netherfield when she had come to nurse her sister Jane. Even with her soiled clothes (the ones Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst could not stop exclaiming over later), the brightness of her eyes and her obvious concern for her sister had struck something new and powerful in him.

When she had breezed past him towards the house, the flip of her glorious hair and her lightly flowering and alluring scent had made him trail along after her for a few seconds like a lovesick puppy. He wouldn't have admitted it to himself at the time, of course, but throughout her days at Netherfield he felt himself being slowly drawn to her with thousands of tiny strings. When he saw her out the window playing keep away with one of the dogs, her light and playful spirit made him feel more alive and vital even from a distance.

When she and Jane had left Netherfield, he felt relieved, but strangely bereft at the same time. He missed seeing her, missed the challenging sparkle in her eyes when they would exchange their lively banter. But he thought hopefully that her absence would purge him of his growing regard for her. It was still a battle for him at that point, a battle between the wonder of her and all his better judgment.

But when he saw her again at Hunsford, nothing had changed. It was then that the wonder of her began to win the battle over his better judgment, sealed in the moment of his fateful proposal at the parsonage house. After her crushing refusal and the attempt to defend himself with the letter, the battle had ended. From that point on, he was a completely lost man. He realized how right she had been in her criticisms of his character, how in need of reform he was. How unique and amazing she was among women. He was wretched without her, and no longer had any hope of being with her.

Again, Darcy thoughts wandered back to Elizabeth with a pained smile as he escorted the Gardiners into his library and got them settled. "What am I waiting for? I am waiting for the only woman in the world worth having, the only woman I want to share my life with, the one my heart belongs to for now and for always. Let her come back to me, Lord, he prayed, for she is so indescribably worth the wait.

Chapter 13

Posted on Sunday, 8 October 2006

He couldn't stay away. He had seen to his responsibilities, made sure everything was in order for the Gardiners and any of the Bennets who would arrive later. They were under his roof, under his care, just as she was, and he wouldn't dream of neglecting them. But having seen to all that, he just couldn't stay away. He was drawn back towards her presence almost without thinking, like a famished man following the aroma of a feast. He let his feet carry him back up the stairs along the familiar route to his rooms where he had left Dr. Shelton waiting with Elizabeth.

Dr. Shelton. Darcy was grateful for his presence in case anything should happen, but now, on the threshold of his door, he was regretting the doctor's interference. He wanted to be alone with her again, just as he had been before they had all arrived. He knew Dr. Shelton might find it improper, he knew the Gardiners might find it improper, he knew his staff might find it improper. And for some reason, at that moment, it made him want to be alone with her all the more. He would find a way, even if it was only for a few minutes. He would find a way to let her know he was there, to remind her again that she was safe and sheltered and loved and right where she belonged. And miraculously, for one of the first times all day, fate smiled on his secret wishes.

As he was turning the doorknob to enter the room where she still lay, he almost ran into Dr. Shelton, who was stepping out into the hallway at the same instant. Both men jumped back slightly, and Dr. Shelton spoke first: "Excuse me, Mr. Darcy. I am glad you have returned. I have a request to make of you, and I know you may think it improper, but under the circumstances, I hope you will understand. I have been caring for old Mrs. Watson in the village almost day and night for the last week, and that combined with the frantic journey today has left me hungry and exhausted. I want to be able to give Miss Bennet the best possible care, but I caught myself dozing off more than once while sitting with her just now. I will be much more useful to everyone if I can have some refreshments and rest, and I was just going to look for someone else to sit with Miss Bennet until the Gardiners are done composing their express to her family. Since you are here, may I ask you to take over for a while? I will not go far, I promise, and you can wake me at once if anything changes in her condition. I know that Miss Bennet is a single young woman, but... "

"It is quite all right, Dr. Shelton. You are totally justified in your desire for rest, and your concern for Miss Bennet's reputation is admirable. However, you are also correct in saying that under the circumstances, my staying with her alone will not be frowned upon. It is my duty as the master of Pemberley to care for all those who fall into my circle, which now includes Miss Bennet, her relatives and of course yourself. Your room while you are here is the last door in this hallway on the left, and you can ring for a tray and anything else you need as soon as you get there. The staff has been given strict instructions to be attentive to you while you are aiding Miss Bennet in her recovery."

"Thank you kindly, Mr. Darcy. Your hospitality is much appreciated, and you have laid my fears to rest. Miss Bennet will remain in the best possible hands at all times until she is fully recovered. That is the only way it should be."

"I could not agree more, Dr. Shelton."

Dr. Shelton turned and walked down the hallway to his room. Even under the circumstances of Elizabeth's present condition, Darcy's heart sang at the golden opportunity laid at his feet. He turned to enter the room, intending to use his time to the fullest.

Elizabeth was still clawing, still fighting, and still trying to find her way out of the darkness of the pit. She was determined; she would make a way for herself. It was going slowly, slowly, and she still got tired so easily. She had stopped again for another rest, conserving whatever strength she had. It wasn't as easy to keep going when she couldn't sense him there at the top, waiting for her. His presence, whoever he was, had helped pull her back when she was ready to quit. He was her promise. She had a promise that he would be worth it when she made it to the top of the pit. Through the mist, through the darkness, through all the distance, she suddenly heard him again. He was back!

She lifted up her head and strained to hear his words, but she could never quite make them out exactly. She got the idea, though. He was back to urge her on, to encourage her, to hold out in front of her all the wonderful things that were waiting for her at the top. There was still something so familiar about that voice, but she couldn't strain herself trying to figure out the mystery. She pulled herself back to her feet in the pit and went back to work on finding that way out. She would find it. She would. After all, she thought to herself, her promise was waiting.

Darcy pulled up the chair, again. He clasped her hand in both of his, again. It was almost a replay of his position not so long ago. He took a deep breath and began, "I do not know if you can hear me, dearest Elizabeth, but somehow I think you can. I am here. I am here, my love, and nothing could drag me away until you are well. I did not think it was possible at the start of this day, but I love you infinitely more now than I did this morning. This day has revealed to me how irreplaceable you are, that there could never be another to hold your place in my heart or my home. It is right that you are here, my beloved."

"I wish you would wake up so I could show you the house and the grounds, so I could see your eyes light up at all the wonders of this place. You will love it, I know you will. I wish I could be so certain that you could come to love me. Did you ever read my letter? Has it done anything to change your opinion of me? If I could but show you how you have changed me, Elizabeth! How I have endeavored to make myself worthy of the you, the very best of women. Come back to us, my love, come back to me, and let me shower my love on you. Let me try to win your heart as you have so completely won mine. Let me take care of you here in this place, not just now but for always. I miss your smile. I miss your eyes and that sparkle that dances and teases and tempts me. I miss your voice that always sounds like music to me. I miss you, I have missed you for months. There is a void that was left in my soul when you refused me that day, and you are the only one who can fill it. But that can never happen if you leave me now. Please Elizabeth…please do not leave me. You are the joy of my heart, and there will never be any joy again if you are gone. Fight your way back, my love. I am waiting for you."

Chapter 14

Dusk was falling. The servants were scurrying around Pemberley lighting it up for the summer's eve, taking special care in the library not to disturb the Gardiners. Their task was an urgent, but heavy one, and they were trying to compose an express that would provide the necessary facts about Elizabeth's accident but not be too harsh or blunt. Trying to communicate all the nuances of Dr. Shelton's diagnosis in just a few lines was made easier by the fact that it was family writing to family; but it was still enough to leave the Gardiners even more emotionally exhausted than they had been even a short while earlier. Ultimately, they looked at each other and decided that the best way would be the most straightforward, and they were hastened on by the desire to return to Lizzie's bedside. Therefore, after night had fallen fully and sweetly across the Derbyshire countryside, the following express was rushed off to the Bennets at Longbourn:

My dear brother and family,

We bear you tidings that we never dreamed we would have to communicate at the beginning of this journey. Today, while walking on the peaks, Elizabeth took a fall. To our knowledge, she has not been awake since. The doctor has seen her and says that the injury is confined to her head, but it is uncertain when or if she will wake up. Mr. Darcy came upon us shortly after the accident, so we are all awaiting Elizabeth's recovery at Pemberley. We know that you will want to be near Elizabeth during this time, and Mr. Darcy assures us that any or all of you will be most welcome as soon as you may arrive here. We will remain, of course, by Elizabeth's side for as long as it takes, and Dr. Shelton has been wonderful so far. It is small comfort, we know, but let it sustain your spirits until you can be with her as well. Make haste, dear family; our Elizabeth needs us now more than ever! We will look for your arrival the day after tomorrow, or sooner still if you can manage it.

Yours, etc., The Gardiners

Wearily, with heavy hearts and tired bodies, the Gardiners climbed the stairs together once again. Evidently, there had been no great change in Lizzie's condition, or they would have been notified immediately. When they opened the door to Mr. Darcy's room, they expected to find Dr. Shelton waiting with Lizzy. What they saw instead should have sent some of their emotions and sensibilities tossing like leaves in a crisp autumn wind. Under normal circumstances, it would have. However, after a day such as this, after having one of their two favorite nieces on the brink of death and having to write a letter bearing news that no family should ever have to hear, very little could surprise or shock them.

The sight of Mr. Darcy ardently clasping Lizzie's hand for the second time that day, knowing that he was barely aware of their entrance into the room, for he was so intensely focused on her, did cause them both to pause in their tracks. But they did not gasp, did not call out, did not demand to know why their unmarried niece and this unmarried man were alone in a room together. With all the wisdom and love of a happily married couple, they simply looked at each other, and the message was as clear as the lake that shimmered in the moonlight outside the windows:

"Look at him, darling. His love for our Lizzy is almost like a physical presence in the room, it is so obvious! Who knows how this has come about, but feelings that strong in the face of such adversity demand respect. Let us give him just another moment, just to let him prepare himself to be apart from her again."

They clasped hands, smiled for the first time in hours, and slipped slowly and quietly back into the hallway, closing the door silently behind them. After a few minutes, they went into the room again. This time, they knocked first, and this time, almost nothing would have appeared amiss to the casual observer. Almost nothing...

Darcy had known it from the beginning. He had known his time alone with her would have to be short. Still, when that knock sounded, the one that signaled the return of the Gardiners and the end of his time alone with Elizabeth, it felt as if only seconds had passed since Dr. Shelton had left them alone. There was so much more to say, so much more to pour out of his heart that was only meant for her ears. Even if her ears were not capable of hearing all his whisperings, it was still worth it to say them. He had longed to do it for months, and knowing now that every opportunity available to him could be the last, he would waste none of them.

So when that knock sounded, before the door opened to reveal the Gardiners, he whispered quickly, "I will have to leave you now, my love. But even if I cannot speak to you, even if I cannot hold your hand, know that I am with you. A piece of my soul is in your keeping, so we can never truly be apart. May you pass a peaceful night, dearest Elizabeth, and may the rising sun bring you back to the world in the morning."

He released her hand, sat back in his chair, and prepared to leave for one of the guest rooms in his own home. He tried to prepare himself, however unsuccessful the attempt might have been to sleep. All the while very much aware that under the same roof - his beloved -- Elizabeth Bennet struggled not to fall into everlasting sleep. He left behind that piece of his soul, praying that it would survive the night with her.

Chapter 15

Darcy sat bolt upright in bed, his face a dripping mixture of sweat and tears. Bewildered for an instant about why he was sleeping in a strange bed in his own house, he lifted unsteady hands to rub his eyes. He must have slept, since he had been dreaming, but he really did not feel like he had. There was certainly no rest in the strange dreamlike state from which he had just roused himself. Not since his childhood had he recalled a dream so vividly; if he closed his eyes just for a moment he could still see it playing out in his mind. It was only three scenes, three scenes that just kept repeating themselves over and over again, filled with sweetness and torment, with ecstasy and agony. All three scenes, of course, were centered around her.

Even if she hadn't been fighting for her life under his very roof, right now, just down the hall, he would have still dreamed about her. He had been dreaming about her, during both his waking and sleeping moments, for months. The same emotions were wrapped up in those dreams as had just appeared in this one, the same thrills and despair all combined. On this night, those emotions were magnified a thousand-fold as everything that had transpired that day rolled itself into his dreams. On this night, the dreams had started with the ecstasy...

It was earlier that day, near the peaks in the radiant countryside of Derbyshire. Darcy recognized the county he called home, even though the edges were a little blurry. His majestic horse stood proudly beneath him, and there was not another creature in sight. The scene was peaceful, serene, and Darcy was as one with his surroundings. Elizabeth did not really walk into the scene, there was nothing so mundane or normal about her entrance. It was almost as if she was floating her way towards him, staying just above the lush green grass. The sunlight was radiating around her glorious hair, and the smile on her face was even more radiant still. Darcy was transfixed, held still and in awe of all the loveliness before him. She truly resembled an angel, sent from above to offer him a slice of heaven in this life. He remained motionless while she kept moving effortlessly forward, neither one of them saying a word. Words were completely unnecessary it seemed; they were both able to communicate everything they wanted to say with only their eyes.

When she finally reached him, she paused next to his horse and lifted her hand to him. Her request was instantly understood, and he placed his hand in hers, ready to pull her up onto the horse with him. Before complying, however, he could not resist brushing her hand with the most delicate of kisses, almost like the soft summer breeze that swirled around them. He had no trouble pulling her onto the back of his horse, and somehow their eyes still never left each other's. She reached up to cup his face with her hands, and both equally felt the irresistible need to taste the sweetness offered by the lips of the other. The moment came, and it was as if a bolt of lightning charged from the joining to course through both of their bodies. The very air around them seemed to explode with the power of it. When they finally pulled away, she sighed in contentment, wrapped her arms trustingly around his waist, leaned her head gently and sweetly against his back, and whispered simply, "Take me home, darling." He knew instinctively that she was not referring to Longbourn, but Pemberley, and the knowledge filled him with unspeakable joy. She was his. After all his waiting, she was his, and they rode off together into the mist, towards Pemberley and the rest of their lives.

As he recalled this part of the dream, Darcy smiled so completely that it took over his entire demeanor, so much so that no one who saw it would have believed this man to be the same cold, stern master of Pemberley they had heard so much about. The jolt from that kiss was almost reality to him, he had felt it so deeply. That enraptured smile slowly but steadily faded, however, he also recalled how the dream continued...

As they rode on, the next scene became darker, much more ominous. Where none had been there before, suddenly they were surrounded by an overgrown and threatening forest. The horse beneath them snorted, clearly spooked by the change in their surroundings. Elizabeth clung to him a bit tighter as Darcy tried to steer the horse through the thick growth. It was easy to become disoriented, and Darcy was having trouble remembering in which direction Pemberley lay. The peace and serenity of the previous scene had been replaced with anxiety and fear, and Darcy felt it acutely.

All his instincts warned him that something terrible was coming, that the worst was going to happen, but as he tried to keep the horse under control he was powerless to stop it. As often happens in dreams, the next moments played out in slow motion, seemingly meant to extend his torment. The trees surrounding them began to grow, to reach, and to stretch towards the horse and its two riders. He saw it coming, but he could still do nothing. He released the horse's reins and placed his hands over Elizabeth's, trying to keep her grasp tight around his waist. Somehow he knew the trees were not reaching for him, but for her, and the thought terrified him. They were getting closer as each slow-motion second passed, the branches so alive they almost seemed like human arms and hands.

Elizabeth did not cry out, did not scream when they finally reached her. Their dark tendrils wrapped around her like a shroud. When he turned to watch her as she was pulled away from him, she simply stared at him, and her look was filled with such profound sadness and sorrow that he was not so able to remain silent. The cry that rent from his lungs was the perfect sound to come from such a forest, for it sounded like nothing human. Indeed, the noise was like some other-worldly animal as her beloved face slowly faded from sight and was gone forever.

Still sitting up in his bed, Darcy reasoned that it was the repetition of this scene that must have caused the tears he discovered when he awakened. It made perfect sense that the utter anguish of this scene would have reached into his conscious self and caused the tears to flow. He would not have been entirely surprised if his crying out for her had translated into real life also and had awakened the entire household. Fortunately for him (and for them) it had not, and he was able to continue to ponder in solitude what the dream meant. And if he wanted to do that, he could not forget to include remembering that last scene...

Pemberley was no longer the proud, regal estate it had once been. There was no way of telling how many years had passed, but it was obviously not just a few. The gardens and grounds were overgrown and unkempt, and the house had been reduced to some small piles of stone. In the midst of all the deterioration sat a man who was deterioration personified. The once broad-shouldered man with the demeanor that had exuded high birth and social status now sat in the ruins hunched over and shabby, with no evidence of his former self. It was as if his entire life had literally crumbled around him, and yet he was still left behind to try to make an existence for himself in the rubble. There was only one thing in the scene that had not fallen into disrepair, only one thing that had survived the collapse of Darcy's life. It was his life's only purpose now to keep it looking beautiful at all costs. She would have wanted it that way. He had somehow succeeded in having her final resting place be there, with him, and he had had the shiny marble headstone designed especially for her. The fragrant plantings of lavender at the base of it were continual reminders of her distinctive scent. The headstone was exquisitely carved, with a simple three lines:

Elizabeth Anne Bennet
Beloved
Always

Until his own last breath was drawn, Darcy would never leave the spot. He would polish the marble until it gleamed in the sun, he would use his own clothing to protect it from the rain, he would tend to the lavender with gentleness and care. It was all he had left of her, and he would pamper it and love it just as he loved her -- still loved her, always.

The question could not help but be asked, though Darcy asked it reluctantly: "was his dream a premonition? Had all the ecstasy he would ever know with Elizabeth already passed, and was he now destined to watch her die and watch his life crumble around him?"

The thought made him want to fly down the hall and go to her side instantly, as though he could prevent it by just being physically present with her. He would hold on tighter this time. He would not let her be pulled out of his reach. He would not be left with only a headstone and some flowers and his memories of her. He fell back with a sigh against his pillows, and to his later amazement, drifted off to sleep once again.

This time, the scene had changed again. There was no agony or despair here, only joy and anticipation, the sweet anticipation of another dream that was coming true. This dream did not even seem blurry around the edges; it was as crystal clear as it could be. Darcy stood staring at the doors of Longbourn church, with his best friend Bingley beside him.

The minister stood off in the background, and friends and family filled the pews. The anticipation was palatable in the small church, decorated tastefully with dried flowers and anything that bloomed in winter. The dream turned to slow motion, this time to stretch out the magical moment when the doors finally flew open. The open doors revealed, in Darcy's thinking, the two most beautiful brides the world had ever seen. But even though Jane Bennet was generally acknowledged to be the prettiest of all the Bennet sisters, Darcy's eyes were on her for only a brief moment before they quickly sought out and found the second sister, his Elizabeth -- His bride.

He marveled at that, marveled at his good fortune that she had finally accepted him. He was amazed that she seemed to grow lovelier every time he saw her, and this day was certainly no exception. When their eyes met, the genuine smile on her face and the dancing sparkle in her eyes removed any doubts that she would change her mind before she reached the altar. This time, it was Darcy who felt like he was floating. It could not be more perfect. He and his best friend were both about to pledge their lives to the brides of their choice, brides who could not be better suited to them. When the clergyman would pronounce Elizabeth to be Mrs. Darcy, Darcy's heart would finally be made whole. He reached out to take her hand as she reached the end of the aisle. The ceremony was ready to begin...

In his sleep, the questioning thoughts came again: was this dream a premonition? Along with all the questions, even though the answers were still uncertain -- those bright and shining eyes along with that dazzling smile returned -- spreading across Darcy's face, too.

Chapter 16

Posted on Wednesday, 11 October 2006

Another beautiful English summer morning dawned bright and lovely. It was a morning full of possibilities, one bearing sweet promises of hours to be passed in contentment with nothing rushed. In that spirit, the household at Longbourn was just beginning to stir to face the new day. The servants were up first, of course, preparing the morning meal and readying the house for the family's activities. With two of the Bennet children currently out of the house, there should have been less work to do, and everything should have been much quieter -- especially with Lydia's removal to Brighton. However, the Gardiner children were in residence while their parents were touring Derbyshire with Elizabeth, and they added a dimension to the household that hadn't been experienced in quite some time. The addition of four younger children had been a delight to some and an aggravation to others at Longbourn, but on a day such as the one dawning, their presence just seemed right. Summer was a wonderful season for the young, with so much to be enjoyed and explored and discovered.

Mr. Bennet was usually the first of the family to awaken in the morning, as he liked to be dressed and thoroughly ensconced in his library before the morning meal. This allowed him to build up his patience and forbearance for the day while avoiding all the feminine dressing and hairstyling and fussing that would happen above stairs as soon as his wife and daughters roused themselves. On this morning, as had been the case with most other mornings in the past weeks, the thought of his daughters caused Mr. Bennet to let out a small sigh. If Lydia had been the only one absent, it would have caused him no particular pangs. Her absence was, in general, a relief, except when he had to listen to Mrs. Bennet exclaim repeatedly about how cruelly she missed her dear Lydia. No, it was the absence of his second daughter that caused a wistful smile to play across Mr. Bennet's lips and caused his eyes to temporarily lose their focus on his book.

Lizzy was his favorite, there was never any doubt of that, but her time in Derbyshire reminded him in a million ways every day of just how valuable and important she was to him. He could not take nearly as much delight in the silliness of others, nor could he continually sharpen his mind with hers in intelligent conversation. Jane was the closest thing he had to a sensible companion in Lizzy's absence, and she was almost completely involved these days in the care of the Gardiner's children. So, until his Lizzy returned home, Mr. Bennet could be found in his library in almost every moment when he was not dining or sleeping.

Mrs. Bennet could go visit Mrs. Phillips or stay above stairs complaining about how the Gardiner children were a trial to her nerves; Jane could continue to be a gentle and caring guardian to her cousins; Mary could read and play her music; and Kitty could continue to mourn about the injustice of not being asked to go to Brighton. These long summer days had fallen into this type of routine, and today looked to be no different. Mr. Bennet knew that breakfast would be starting shortly, so he placed his book aside and gathered up all his fortitude to face his wife.

As he opened the library door, he heard a horse gallop rapidly up the front drive and come to a grinding halt just outside the front door. The knock came just seconds later, and all of Mr. Bennet's natural curiosity was peaked.

Hill had come into the foyer to see to the door, but Mr. Bennet forestalled her, saying, "No, it's alright, Hill. I will see to it. Just make sure everything is in order for breakfast." With a curtsey and a "Yes, sir," she was off again, and Mr. Bennet turned to open the front door to this unexpected morning visitor.

The stranger who stood before him on the other side of the door increased his curiosity tenfold, for he was obviously a messenger of some kind. He had the look of a man who had not slept the previous night, and even though the day was still young he was already sweating profusely. The man caught his breath, held out his hand to reveal a letter, and said, "An express for you from Pemberley, sir."

Pemberley... it took Mr. Bennet a few seconds to remember where he had heard that name before, but then it came to him in a flash. It was the estate of that man who was universally reviled in Hertfordshire, and even more so by some of his own family, Mr. Darcy! For what possible reason could he be receiving an express from Mr. Darcy's estate? The look of surprise and curiosity on Mr. Bennet's face was completely genuine in this instance, and he reached out very slowly to take the offered letter. He couldn't let the messenger get away without asking for some kind of hint, so he said, "Have you any idea what business the master of Pemberley has for me in this letter?"

The messenger shook his head and replied simply, "No, sir. I was simply told to deliver this to your household as quickly as possible, and so I have done. I was also told to wait here so that I might accompany any members of your family who wished to make the journey to Pemberley."

Now Mr. Bennet was truly dumbfounded, a rare occurrence for him. His family? Journey to Pemberley? Whatever for? He wondered if this was some kind of an elaborate joke that Lizzy and the Gardiners were attempting to play from their location in Derbyshire. They were waiting for him to come running to show up on Mr. Darcy's doorstep without an invitation, just to see what kind of reaction they could get. If that were indeed the case, Mr. Bennet would have to let them know when they returned to Longbourn just how much he admired their attempt. This caused him to relax and smile slightly at the messenger, and he said,

"Alright, step inside for just a moment while I attempt to get to the bottom of this little mystery. I fear you may have been sent here for no particularly good reason, but I suppose the letter will tell the tale."

As he took his first good look at the unopened letter in his hand, he immediately recognized the penmanship of his brother-in-law. Either his practical joke theory was gaining more credibility, or for some remarkable reason Mr. Gardiner was actually at Pemberley. Mr. Bennet still felt the first option to be more probable, so he prepared himself to be excessively diverted at the contents of the express. He broke the ornate wax seal and began reading the contents of the letter...

Later, on his return to Derbyshire, the messenger from Pemberley would swear to his fellow servants that he had never seen the blood drain from a man's face so quickly as it did from Mr. Bennet's that morning. The other servants would scarcely be able to believe his account that in the space of mere minutes, Mr. Bennet seemed to age at least ten years.

He would swear that he could hear the man mumble to himself, over and over again, "Not Lizzy. Please God, not my Lizzy."

The messenger would attempt to describe how it seemed that Mr. Bennet had entered his own world, one in which his surroundings completely faded away except for the piece of paper he held in his now trembling hands. The one word the messenger would come back to in every attempt to retell this tale was shock. Never before had he seen a man embody so completely the definition of shock, and he thoroughly believed he would never see one again. The only thing that seemed to pull him back to reality was the sound of his family coming downstairs to breakfast, and somehow the messenger knew there would be no more peace for this family as they gathered together for this meal - it was all about to be shattered.

Mr. Bennet finally managed to tear his agonized gaze away from that horrible piece of paper and lift his face to the messenger. He wanted to rip up the letter into a million pieces and pretend he'd never seen it. He wanted to shake the man standing in front of him and demand to know who had the audacity to lie to him so cruelly. He wanted to be able to go in and eat breakfast with his family without the terrible burden of what he had to tell them. Most of all, he wanted at that moment to sprout wings like some mythological creature and fly across the miles to be with his most beloved child.

When he had cleared his mind enough to form a coherent sentence, he said in a low voice, one that was almost a whisper, "Would you be good enough to wait here for just a few minutes more? I need to speak to my family, and then I will be accompanying you back to Pemberley at once."

When the messenger said, "Of course, sir," he was already speaking to Mr. Bennet's back. He didn't want to delay the inevitable any longer than he had to, and he knew they were already waiting for him to start breakfast. And of course, the longer he waited, the longer it would take him to get to Lizzy. As he entered the dining room, the eyes of Mrs. Bennet, Jane, Mary, Kitty, the Gardiner children, and Hill all turned to look at the master of the house.

As soon as her father entered the room, Jane knew there was something terribly wrong. In truth, she and Hill were probably the only ones in the room who were perceptive enough or knew Mr. Bennet well enough to notice. Everyone else was more occupied by the fact that they had been waiting for their breakfast than by the haggard and dazed appearance of Mr. Bennet clutching a letter in his hand.

In fact, Mrs. Bennet was so oblivious to the pain on her husband's face that she started in at once, raising her voice to say, "What kept you? I am sure your family would have wasted away to nothing had you stayed away much longer. It is most cruel of you to dawdle in that library of yours while I must wait here to eat. You know how fragile my nerves are; I must eat at the appropriate moment or I'm sure I should faint away. I know Kitty feels the same way, and Jane must eat to keep up her energy to deal with all these children."

When her father only managed a weakly condemning look and didn't even shoot back a witty retort to her mother's comments, Jane's suspicions were confirmed. Something was definitely wrong. She was instantly concerned for her father's health; he did not look well at all. Her father looked at her and spoke in a voice that sounded to her ears as old as any she had ever heard,

"Jane, I need to speak with you alone for a moment out in the hall. The rest of you may begin eating," his eyes cutting to Mrs. Bennet harshly on this last remark.

Jane instantly got up to go with her father, saying to her cousins on the way out, "Behave yourselves and eat quietly until I return, all right?"

Once they reached the privacy of the hall, Jane wanted to assail her father immediately, but he beat her to it. He lightly touched her arm and said,

"My child, I need your help. Something has happened, and I need you to take over the household while I am away. Your mother, I suspect, will be far too distraught to be of any help to you, but you may enlist the help of Hill, Mary, Kitty, and anyone else on the estate you may need. They all know their roles, and they should not give you any trouble. Can you do this for me?"

"Yes Papa, of course. But aren't you going to tell me what has happened? Why must you go away? Where are you going? How long will you be gone?"

Mr. Bennet, instead of wasting his time with words, simply handed her the letter he was still clasping in his hand. As Jane read, she gasped, and tears sprang up into her eyes and began to silently stream down her cheeks. It was her turn to grasp her father's arm for support, and she managed to choke out on a small sob,

"No Papa, not Lizzy! I want to go with you! I want to be with her, I want to help her, she needs me! Please Papa, let me go with you! Let me go to Lizzy!"

Mr. Bennet completely understood his eldest daughter's feelings, for he knew that she and Lizzy were as close as sisters ever could be. He had anticipated her reaction, and responded with complete honesty,

"I know you wish to be with her, Jane, and I know she would be happy to have you there. But you will do the most good for her by helping to keep things running here until she is well. She must have a place to come home to as soon as she is recovered, so we need you here. Your mother might very well become asylum material if you are not here to keep her calm, and Lizzy will understand why you needed to stay. In fact, you could not show your love or concern for her any better."

Jane never argued with any logic that appealed to her love for Lizzy, and she certainly wouldn't have started in these circumstances, so she simply nodded her acceptance and resolved to do her very best to keep everything under control at Longbourn in her father's absence. She sent all her prayers to heaven for her beloved sister, linked her arm with her father's, and rallied all her strength for the challenges to come, not the least of which would be dealing with her mother's hysterics.

As Mr. Bennet mounted his horse a short time later, the messenger from Pemberley right beside him on his own mount, he was happy to be getting his journey underway for more reasons than one. He would be with Lizzy as quickly as the horses would carry them, but he was also leaving behind the wild hysterics of Mrs. Bennet, whom he could still hear shrieking inside the house. He had not expected the breaking of the news to go much better than it had, and everyone had responded as they were expected to. If Mrs. Bennet had not already been seated at the breakfast table, she would have sank into a chair or fainted onto the floor.

As it was, her three daughters who were present all came around her as she started sobbing and shrieking all at once, letting out her angst in a variety of forms.

"Oh my poor Lizzy! She might already be dead! Oh how shall I survive this? My poor nerves cannot take this! How could my brother have let this happen? They must have let her have too much freedom. They did not control her, and now Lizzy is probably dead because of it! And at the estate of that odious man Mr. Darcy! I hope he feels very sorry now for the way he slighted Lizzy before! It serves him right, terrible man! I always warned Lizzy that her adventures would get her into trouble, but would she ever listen to me? NO! Oh, I need my smelling salts!"

"HILL!"

On and on it went, and still went, as Mrs. Bennet was helped up to her room. Jane was trying to help her mother and help keep her cousins calm at the same time, and as Mr. Bennet was having his horse readied and preparing himself to get on the road to Derbyshire, he gave his daughter a sympathetic look and a reassuring squeeze of the hand. She saw him to the door, and said,

"Be safe on your journey, Papa, and please send us news of Lizzy as soon as you arrive. You will both have my continual prayers."

The beautiful summer morning had turned into a sparkling summer day, but it no longer held the same promise, no longer stretched itself lazily before them as so many others had. A cloud of uncertainty and despair had settled over Longbourn that morning, and it seemed like winter in the middle of the year. Mr. Bennet kicked his horse into action, and he could feel the chill of that winter in his very bones as he rode to find the fate of his dearest daughter.

Chapter 17

She wouldn't cry, even though she was in pain. Mr. Bennet knew his second daughter well, and so he just stood back and watched her. He didn't go to her, didn't scoop her off the ground, or didn't try to whisper words of parental comfort to soothe her pain. He longed to do all of those things, since he absolutely hated seeing his Lizzy in any kind of pain. But even at the tender age of five, her pride would detest any such assistance from him. She had made the mistake, and she would wish to recover herself from it without a great deal of fuss or fawning. She and Mr. Bennet both knew that he had warned her about running too quickly in her dress over the grounds at Longbourn.

He didn't really mind it, he just didn't want her to get hurt. Lizzy knew her father didn't mind, and that was the only thing she considered when she took off across the lawn for the tree swing. The thought of getting hurt never really entered such a young, seemingly invincible mind, and she paid no heed to her father's warnings to slow down. She was really more stunned than hurt when she'd lost her footing on a patch of grass that was still slick with the summer morning dew, but she could also feel that she had skinned her knee and it was bleeding slightly. The tears started to trickle down slowly, as much from the embarrassment of falling in front of someone as the pain from her knee.

Mr. Bennet knew that Lizzy was trying to hide her tears from him, trying to be so brave, so strong. He smiled a somewhat rueful smile, but one that was full of love, and even admiration. Amazing, he thought. She is only a child, a female child at that, and yet I already see so much to look forward to as her personality continues to develop. I see so much of myself in her already. She is so headstrong, so confident in her own decisions, and is already quite the wit. But now, she gathered herself back together, skinned knee and all, and pushed herself back to her feet. She dusted off her dress, covered in grass and some blood stains, and turned back to face her father across the distance over the lawn. The tug he felt at his heartstrings when he had seen her down on the ground just a minute earlier was nothing compared to the joy and love he experienced when he saw her lift her head and stick out her chin in a gesture full of pride, bordering on defiance.

Her look seemed to say, "You see, Papa, I am fine. I am not beaten. I may fall sometimes, but I will pick myself back up every time. Nothing will keep me down for long." With a toss of her glowing dark curls, she turned back toward the tree swing and started off towards it again... running. He wouldn't try to stop her, he didn't want to interrupt the amusement, entertainment, and joy he got from watching his Lizzy. Mr. Bennet also got the message of Lizzy's last look. He sensed that his second daughter (and the one who was already his favorite) would always be one to steer her own course, even if it caused her to falter occasionally. But as that thought caused him to worry for her, he also took comfort in knowing that she was strong and could pull herself back up when she did falter in her path. She would be alright. And she would make her father proud.

These were the thoughts that occupied his mind as one small tear rolled down Mr. Bennet's cheek when he recalled this incident from so long ago. He quickly wiped it away. Just like his daughter, he never enjoyed the idea of anyone seeing him weak. His Lizzy was the one who was weak now, and she would need him to be strong. He at least had to try, even though he was presently tired, hungry, and feeling every bit of his age.

He and the servant from Pemberley had just entered the grounds of the estate and were approaching the main drive up to the house. Too much time, he kept thinking to himself. Too much time had passed since he had received that letter, since they had set out on their journey, since she had slipped into her own world inside her body. Too many things could have happened, too many things could have gone wrong, or right, in the amount of time it took him to travel to her side. Religion was as much a part of Mr. Bennet's life as it was for any English gentleman of his day with an estate to run. He was a man of principle, he believed in God, but he was certainly not devout like his daughter Mary or the ever-amusing Mr. Collins. But his trip to Derbyshire had been long, very long, and it had given Mr. Bennet time to reflect on many things.

That incident from Lizzy's childhood had sprung to mind almost as soon as the journey began, and he kept coming back to it over and over again as he rode. He knew his daughter was strong; he knew she could pull out of this, however serious it might be. However, he also knew that this wasn't just a simple scrape on the knee that she could dust herself off from and run off again on the same path. No matter what happened from the time he stepped through Pemberley's front door, he couldn't shake the feeling that this event would change so many things for all of them. There were so many possibilities, so many conjectures swimming around in his head like ingredients in some complicated soup that he did the only thing he could think to do -- interestingly, he prayed.

He turned this whole awful mess over to a higher power, hoping God would take control and put everything right again. He couldn't completely stop worrying. He was human, and a parent; and he probably loved Lizzy more than any other person in his life. But this time, his Lizzy really needed someone to come scoop her off the ground and set her back on her feet again, and just like all those years ago, it couldn't be him, even if he wanted it to be. She needed help, more help than her father could give. It made him feel helpless, but if that couldn't drive one to God, what could? What indeed, Mr. Bennet thought, as the front door came into view. They all needed help right now.

"God help us all," he prayed under his breath as he wearily dismounted and prepared to face the arduous tests ahead.

The butler quickly informed Darcy of Mr. Bennet's arrival. He is here. The father of the woman I love has come to her aid quickly, which was as it should be. Still, he couldn't help some of the emotions he was feeling as he went to greet Mr. Bennet and welcome him to Pemberley.

Jealousy... the more people who came to hold vigil until Elizabeth recovered, the more he felt a surely unreasonable amount of jealousy. They would all want to see her, hold her hand, and spend time with her. He didn't even really have the right to see her, and it still made him jealous of the time with her that he had to divide with others, even her father.

Worry... Mr. Bennet, like every other resident of Hertfordshire, had heard many things about the proud and unpleasant Mr. Darcy. Mr. Bennet had no doubt been told about his first snubbing of Elizabeth at the assembly rooms so long ago. Darcy didn't know how much more Mr. Bennet knew about his history with Elizabeth in Hertfordshire and Kent. Undoubtedly, Mr. Bennet believed that his daughter did not think much of the man whose house he was now entering, and he would be right. Because of all this, Mr. Darcy was feeling very anxious.

He wanted desperately to make sure that Mr. Bennet was as much at ease as possible under the circumstances. He wanted to make a good impression, to begin to show Mr. Bennet everything he eventually wanted to show Elizabeth about how much he'd reformed and tried to do away with his former pride and haughty reserve. In his wildest and fondest dreams, he would eventually be asking this man for Elizabeth's hand in marriage. He had to begin now to strip away the negative foundation he'd already laid and rebuild a solid new one. He hoped that he now had a few allies in Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, since he had endeavored to treat them with the utmost respect and kindness.

As he entered the foyer, his thoughts were still in the room upstairs where Elizabeth lay. Mr. Bennet looked old as he tried to shake off the dust and weariness of traveling non-stop. Mr. Darcy held out his hand and said,

"Welcome to Pemberley, Mr. Bennet. I am terribly sorry that you could not be my guest under happier circumstances. Let me begin to assure you that nothing has changed in your daughter's condition since you received the Gardiners' letter, so you may relieve yourself of any anxiety that she has worsened."

At that moment, the Gardiners joined them in the foyer. Hand clasping, hugging, and misty looks were exchanged in the moments that followed. Finally, Mr. Bennet looked at Mr. Darcy, and with as much command of himself as he could muster, said,

"Thank you for all your efforts on my daughter's behalf, Mr. Darcy. Your hospitality at a time such as this is most appreciated. Now, I would like to go to Elizabeth please."

The Gardiners went with him, and Mr. Darcy stayed behind in the foyer, not able to impose himself into the family scene, even though it was his house. He would just have to be content with little glimpses of his beloved and concentrate on his efforts to make her relatives feel welcome.

Those who knew Jane Bennet would have said that her well of patience and forbearance seemed to have no end. The key word, at this moment, was -- seemed. She was bending under the weight of worry for Elizabeth, the frailties of her mother, and the supervision of her cousins. Her father had instructed her before his departure to enlist the assistance of anyone and everyone around her, but her sense of dangling by the end of a rope was very keen. She had even come close to possibly, maybe saying cross words to her sisters over their lack of assistance. But she felt grateful that the day had ended and it was finally time for some much needed rest.

All the other members of her family seemed reasonably settled. Jane had checked with Hill and some of the other servants to make sure everything was finished for one day and prepared for the next. Just as she was preparing for the delightful feeling of her head hitting the pillow, she heard loud banging at the front door. Thinking her father had already managed to send news of Lizzy, she gathered energy she hadn't known she had and raced downstairs. Hill had beaten her to the door and paid the man who had delivered the express. At the same time she removed it from Hill's hands, she asked aloud, "Is it from Pemberley?" Her knees almost buckled beneath her when she read what followed, and all she could do was gasp out one word,

"LYDIA!"

How Can I Face Your Father ~ Section II

By Erinmarie

Beginning, Section II, Next Section

Chapter 18

Posted on Sunday, 15 October 2006

In spite of Jane Bennet's gentle appearance and demeanor, she was not a weak or fainting woman. Indeed, each of the five Bennet daughters seemed to have all such tendencies driven out of them by continually being exposed to the imagined frailties of their mother. Jane was also a woman of quiet but deep devotion and faith in God. Being such, she truly believed that God never gave his children more than they could bear. But standing near the front door of Longbourn late on a summer evening in her nightclothes, staring disbelieving at the letter from Colonel Forster held in her shaking hands, her strength seemed to fly out the windows and her deepest beliefs seemed to collapse on every side.

The Bennet family's good and faithful servant Hill had been employed at Longbourn since before the daughters were born, and she had never seen Miss Jane come closer to fainting than she did in those first moments after the reading of the express. Hill had a special affection for Jane and Elizabeth, and she stepped outside her place temporarily and wrapped her arm around Jane's back in a gesture of support and comfort that was deeply felt and appreciated. Jane had to summon every ounce of her belief in the goodness of humanity to stop from sinking to the floor where she stood and bursting into tears.

It all just seemed to be too much for one person: Lizzy's accident, her father's departure, being the guardian for her cousins, almost having to be a mother to her own mother, and now this shocking news that Lydia had run off to Scotland with Wickham! And yet, dear sweet Jane, could not think so ill of her sister, or of Wickham. There had to be some kind of misunderstanding, and if they truly had gone to Scotland together, it must be because they were deeply in love with each other.

Unfortunately for Jane, the events swirling around her threatening to pull her down just kept on coming. Her mother, Mary, and Kitty had all been roused from their beds by the knock on the door, more out of curiosity than anything else, and it would now be Jane's job to be the messenger of even more bad news to her family.

Mrs. Bennet called out to her eldest daughter, "Jane, Jane, what is it? Is there news from your father about Lizzy? Please, you cannot keep me in suspense -- my poor nerves cannot tolerate it!"

Jane took a deep breath, fortified herself for the intensity of response she knew would come, and said, "No, Mama. It is not a letter from Pemberley. It is from Colonel Forster in Brighton. Apparently, Lydia and Wickham are both gone from Brighton and Colonel Forster writes that they have gone to Scotland."

For Mrs. Bennet, all thoughts of Lizzy were banished from her mind. Her favorite daughter had fallen into the hands of a villain, and now the marriage prospects for all her daughters were ruined. This was an even greater tragedy for Mrs. Bennet at that moment than the possible loss of her second daughter, and just as Jane had anticipated, she reacted violently and with such an outpouring of moaning and wailing that the staff would later remark that none of Mrs. Bennet's previous outbursts could compare to it.

As Hill ran off for the smelling salts, Jane, Mary, and Kitty attempted to support their mother and get her to a chair before she collapsed. Jane could only thank God that Colonel Forster was apparently on his way to Longbourn at that moment. Perhaps he would be able to help her figure out what to do now, because all the people she would normally think to rely on were in another part of the country with quite another problem altogether on their minds.

Mr. Bennet cautiously walked into the room where his daughter still lay in the same state she had been in since her arrival at Pemberley. Accompanied by the Gardiners, Mr. Bennet was so overwhelmed by the sight of his daughter lying motionless on the bed that he actually took a step backwards when he walked into the room. Mrs. Gardiner was very concerned about her brother-in-law. He looked extremely overwrought, and she was worried about leaving him alone.

But upon questioning him about whether he wanted them to stay, he wearily replied, "I would like to be alone with her for a few minutes. Then, you can return and take over the watch while I try to sleep. If I came here to be with my daughter, I won't be doing her very much good if I collapse from exhaustion."

Mrs. Gardiner was heartened. Even in the midst of his grief, it didn't appear that Mr. Bennet had been deprived of his good sense. She and her husband turned to leave and wait in the hall. Mr. Bennet slowly approached the bed, walking around to the far side so that he could clasp his daughter's hand. However, unlike the other man who had clasped Lizzy's hand, Mr. Bennet seemed unable to form any words. He had never been good at expressing his emotions, at least not seriously. Most of the people who came into contact with Mr. Bennet had a pretty good idea of how he felt about them, even if he never said it outright. Even if he had never said "I love you" to Lizzy before, Mr. Bennet was pretty sure of the fact that his second daughter knew how important she was to him and how much he cherished their relationship.

However, in this situation, he knew this was very different, "I should somehow find a way to speak the words, even if Lizzy cannot hear me (and perhaps it is for the best that she cannot hear me?) I had simply never imagined the possibility that one of my children, especially Lizzy, would depart this earth before me. I am the old one; I am the one who has already travelled a long journey through this life. Lizzy still had so much ahead of her: marriage, motherhood, society, being taken care of in her own old age. My children and wife are supposed to be the ones grieving my demise, not the other way around." It was something his mind just couldn't grasp. And so, all he could manage was to lift her hand, kiss the back of it gently, smooth back her hair from her face, and whisper softly,

"Please wake up, Elizabeth."

The waiting, the horrible, interminable waiting -- every minute, every tick of the enormous grandfather clock in the sitting room, Mr. Darcy thought it couldn't get any worse. But every minute, every tick of the clock seemed to hold more torture and more distress than the one before. She hadn't worsened, and that was a source of comfort he kept trying to draw on. Her father had arrived, which hopefully would help her. But she wasn't improving either, and he hadn't seen her since the previous night. He hadn't fully realized before how much the physical sight of her was keeping him steady and reassured. If she was out of his sight, his imagination could play terrible games with him and any number of horrible possibilities could be dwelled on and thought over and over and over again.

His tumultuous sleep the night before had proven that, and the waking hours of this new day had not shown themselves to be any different, or any easier. In fact, being awake was almost more difficult because at least in sleep he could escape into his dreams, and at least some of them were pleasant. He had been sitting in the same chair, with his head resting in his hands, ever since Mr. Bennet arrived, but now he found that if he didn't get up and do something, the waiting would just be too much. He got up to pace around the room, thinking to himself that now he knew what a caged animal felt like. For a man who had long been self-sufficient, one who had always held very firm control over his own destiny, the helplessness he felt was unwelcome and almost impossible to deal with. He had to seek out employment, something to fill the long hours while his future happiness hung in the balance.

Striding towards the door, he started towards the only place he could think to go; to where she was, knowing he would find her family there, hoping that he could do something for them that would keep him busy and keep his mind occupied and off of the helplessness and fear of life forever without her.

Chapter 19

As Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner waited in the hallway outside Lizzy's room, they were converged upon by Mr. Bennet from the inside of the room and Mr. Darcy from downstairs at the same time. At first, it seemed as if Lizzy's four concerned watchers wouldn't manage to find anything to say to each other. Mr. Bennet couldn't formulate any kind of response to the recent first glimpse of his daughter in such a helpless state, unable to talk to him, unable to smile her smile and jokingly reassure him that she was quite alright. The conversations between father and daughter had always been one of the most valued parts of their relationship, for both of them.

Now Mr. Bennet was left with only being able to have a one-sided conversation with Lizzy, and it was something to which he was unable to adjust. Mr. Darcy, who had been so desperate to gain some sort of occupation to escape the horrible games being played inside his own mind, also found himself unable to immediately speak the reason for his presence in the hallway. Whenever he approached his rooms since Lizzy's arrival, he was instantly sidetracked by thoughts of her. Indeed, he knew now that no matter what happened, he would never be able to enter those rooms again without feeling her presence and remembering her beautiful form resting on his bed. Even now, with the heavy oak door closed, he could picture her, and his heart swelled and flowed with feelings of tenderness and love and pain all rolled into one, which seemed to clog his throat and his brain and prevent him from forming a coherent sentence.

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner both seemed to have tuned themselves into the coming interaction between Mr. Bennet and Mr. Darcy. They knew of Mr. Darcy's regard for their niece with more and more certainty every time they saw him, and his temporary lapse in speech at the moment just added another piece to the puzzle. They glanced at each other and silently wondered how long it would take Mr. Bennet to notice what had become so obvious to them. They wondered if Mr. Bennet would remain oblivious because of his grief, not to mention all the previous bad reports of Mr. Darcy in Hertfordshire. On the other hand, Mr. Bennet's good sense and perceptiveness were still part of his nature, even if clouded by the present circumstances.

However, Mrs. Gardiner quickly realized that she was going to have to be the one to break through the silence, since it seemed that all the men were simply going to remain standing cramped and quiet in the small hallway for the rest of the day. She also seemed to have a sense of Mr. Darcy's original intent for his trip above stairs, and she solved his dilemma by addressing him, saying,

"Mr. Darcy, would you be so kind as to escort Mr. Bennet to a place where he can get some rest? His travels have left him quite exhausted, as you might well imagine, and he will be much better equipped to spend time with Lizzy if he refreshes himself. Brother, when you awaken, it is most likely that Dr. Shelton will have examined Lizzy again, and then you can speak to him personally if you would like."

Both Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bennet snapped out of their silence and willingly agreed to Mrs. Gardiner's suggestions. Mr. Darcy stepped forward to lead the way to one of the other bedrooms in the hallway as Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner stepped into the room to check on Lizzy.

Mr. Darcy tried not to be overeager in his desire to make a good impression on the man to which he had the far-off dream of eventually asking for Elizabeth's hand. He broke the ice by saying,

"You must desire to remain close to your daughter, sir, so you can use one of the bedrooms nearby. Will that be acceptable to you?"

Mr. Bennet did not respond instantly. His mind was slowly attempting to assimilate the contradiction of everything he had heard about the proud, unbearably arrogant Mr. Darcy and the kind, accommodating gentleman currently walking with him. He knew it wasn't a contradiction he would be able to solve immediately with all the emotion and exhaustion clouding his brain, but he quickly vowed to himself that after his rest he would take opportunities to observe Mr. Darcy. After all, trying to study Mr. Darcy's character might be a good distraction and occupation to keep him from constantly worrying himself sick over Lizzy.

He looked back at the younger man as they reached the door and said, "Thank you for assistance, Mr. Darcy. It should go without saying that if anything changes in my daughter's condition, I would appreciate being awakened immediately."

Mr. Darcy quickly responded, "Of course, sir, I will see to it personally. Do you need anything else to help you be more comfortable? Would you like any tea or food before you rest? Do you need a valet?"

Mr. Bennet sighed, and as he moved to enter the room he replied, "The only thing I need, Mr. Darcy, is to see my daughter open her eyes and talk to me."

Darcy could only nod his head and silently close the door, blowing out a deep sigh himself and whispering, "I need that, too, Mr. Bennet. More than anything else in this world, I need her."

Jane, Mary and Kitty sat in the downstairs sitting room at Longbourn with Colonel Forster. Their mother, of course, was apparently too ill to even think of leaving her room above stairs. As the Bennet daughters sat and listened to the latest reports of Lydia and Wickham, they all were silently grateful that they did not have to endure their mother's outbursts at the news -- at least, not yet.

They would eventually have to tell her that if what Colonel Forster said was true, the situation with Lydia was much worse than they originally believed, and they hadn't believed it to be that good in the first place. Colonel Forster gave them the letter that Lydia had addressed to Mrs. Forster when she left Brighton, which obviously had supplied the initial information that the couple had gone to Scotland. However, Colonel Foster was able to update them upon his arrival that the couple had actually been traced to Clapham, which was on the road to London, not Scotland.

He feared that no wedding had taken place, and indeed that Wickham had never intended for one to take place at all. As they listened to the story of Wickham's debts being the likely reason for his sudden departure from Brighton, Mary and Jane were growing more shocked by the minute. Kitty didn't take much stock in it, and still couldn't really see what all the fuss was about.

Jane's shock was in a completely different dimension because all her previous knowledge from Lizzy about Wickham's character was brought immediately to the front of her mind. These present actions seemed to fit into a larger pattern of corruption and lack of moral fiber, but she was still desperately trying to find a way that some great mistake could have been made. Maybe Colonel Forster was mistaken. Maybe they had married in Scotland and then gone to London. Maybe they had found a way to marry in London without going to Scotland. Because it was in her nature, and because she needed something to hope for, Jane refused to think the worst. Besides, she had to think practically.

Colonel Forster expressed his intentions to travel to London in an attempt to discover their location, but he had been most surprised upon his arrival to find Mr. Bennet away from home. He naturally expected that Mr. Bennet was already aware of the news and that he would be waiting to make the trip to London to try to find his daughter.

Colonel Foster expressed his remorse over Lizzy's condition, and then turned to Jane and said, "Your father must be told, Miss Bennet. Have you sent off an express yet? Not only will the search go much slower if I do it alone, but if they are found your father will have certain responsibilities that must be addressed."

Jane, of course, knew this to be true, but she responded with heartfelt belief, "Of course, Colonel Forster. I am just so concerned about my father's condition right now. When he left for Derbyshire, he seemed so overwhelmed with worry for Lizzy, I am afraid of what will happen if I burden him with Lydia's situation as well."

Colonel Forster replied, "Did you not also say that your aunt and uncle were at Pemberley with your sister? Perhaps you could address the express to your uncle and leave it to him to find a way to break the news to your father if he feels it will not be too taxing for Mr. Bennet."

Jane, for the first time in the last few days, felt an overwhelming sense of relief. She hadn't thought of how much her uncle could be of help to her in this crisis, although she should have realized it all along. The Gardiners had always been like another set of parents to her and Lizzy, and she knew that Mr. Gardiner would know the best way to handle the situation.

So, the plan was set. Colonel Forster would depart for London immediately and await a member of Lydia's family to meet him there to aid in the search. Jane would draft the express and address it to her uncle, explaining all the current news about Lydia's situation and asking for his assistance with the best way to proceed.

Therefore, Colonel Forster wasted no time and set off for London immediately, and Jane, Mary and Kitty again faced the unenviable task of delivering more bad news to their already distressed mother.

The next day, back at Pemberley...

The servant decided to deliver the express directly into Mr. Gardiner's hands. He knew Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner were currently in the downstairs sitting room trying to relax for a little while, and he also knew there weren't too many good reasons for trying to seek out his master to deliver an express that wasn't even addressed to him.

All the household staff was growing accustomed to the unexpected guests, but they were still working in an atmosphere of great tension that was difficult to get used to. This tension was more recognizable in their master because they knew him better, but they were also coming to realize that the injured young woman in their midst was someone of great importance to him and of course to her family.

The servant headed from the foyer and did indeed find Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner together in the sitting room. Mr. Bennet was sitting with Lizzy upstairs, allowing the Gardiners some precious moments to gather their strength and encourage each other that even though Lizzy's condition hadn't changed, they could still believe that she was going to recover. The appearance of the servant was not surprising. The Gardiners had been continually impressed by the hospitality and kindness shown them by Mr. Darcy and all the servants at Pemberley. They were often given what they needed without even having to ask for it, which took a great load off of all their minds. So while the servant's entry was not surprising, however, the express he delivered to them was most unexpected indeed.

As parents, their first thoughts flew to possible problems with their own children who were currently in residence at Longbourn. They thanked the servant, clasped hands in an almost automatic gesture of togetherness, and opened the letter in Jane's scripted handwriting. The next few minutes allowed no words, only a series of gasps, sighs, and looks of sheer disbelief. God, in his infinite wisdom, had seemed to ordain a huge dose of calamity to fall on the Bennet family all at once, and the Gardiners were inextricably tied into it as well.

The same question seemed ready to form on both their lips at the same time, but Mrs. Gardiner spoke it first:

"Oh my dear, what is to be done?"

Both their heads, with their distress written plainly across their faces, turned at the same moment to the door to face Mr. Darcy, who had just entered and immediately asked,

"Good heavens, what is the matter?"

Chapter 20

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner had to make a split-second decision: to trust or not to trust. Mr. Darcy had asked them a very natural question, since their distress at the news from Jane was so plainly written across their faces. Now, they had to choose how to answer him, and they couldn't spend much time deliberating since he was there, waiting for a response, his concern just as evident as their distress.

They had two choices. They could choose to be honest, or they could choose to deflect the question, pretend nothing had happened, and deal with it on their own. In that split second, arguments on both sides flew through their minds at lightening speed. This man had been so kind and generous with them since Lizzy's accident, doing everything in his power to try to make them comfortable so they could devote their time to their niece. He had shown himself to be quite the opposite of the proud, disagreeable man they had been expecting to find as master of Pemberley. Not only that, but the Gardiners were both convinced that whether Lizzy knew it or not, Mr. Darcy had fallen deeply in love with her somewhere along the way.

He seemed a steady and dependable young man (except when it came to his emotions about Lizzy, but that was more than understandable). He had opened his home and his life to them; how could they not do the same? His actions over the past few days had shown him to be worthy of their trust.

However, this was a family matter, one that required an extreme amount of delicacy and care. People would undoubtedly find out the circumstances eventually anyway, but until Lydia and Wickham were discovered in London it would probably be best to involve as few people as possible outside the family.

There was also concern about how Mr. Darcy would react to the news of the scandalous behavior of one of Lizzy's sisters. Would it affect his opinion of not only Lydia, but Lizzy as well? The Gardiners were wise enough in the workings of society to realize that Lydia's actions would reflect negatively on all the Bennet girls, and they didn't want to damage Lizzy's chances with Mr. Darcy, especially if she had feelings for him as well.

The time for deliberation was over. The decision had to be made: do we trust him, or do we conceal the horrible truth? Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner each made their decisions individually first, and then communicated their thoughts to each other with only a look. After years of committed and happy marriage, they had mastered not only the secret of communication without words, but the rare gift of being strong individuals and a strong couple at the same time. Happily enough, this time they came to the same conclusion.

Honesty won out. Mr. Darcy seemed so genuinely concerned about them and so genuinely in love with Lizzy that their trust seemed to have found a good place to rest. So, with a look full of silent meaning and a slight nod of the head, they turned back to Mr. Darcy.

Mrs. Gardiner began, "We have just received a letter from Jane at Longbourn with some dreadful news..."

It was a feeling he had experienced before. As he listened to Mrs. Gardiner give the details of the letter from Longbourn, this feeling returned again, full and vital and strong. It coursed through his veins and turned his vision a hazy red at the same time that it wrapped a fist around his heart and punched him in the stomach.

He remembered vividly the first time he had felt this feeling, standing by the sea wall at Ramsgate. That time, it seemed that everything slowed down around him in the bustling sea town as he came upon the scene that had been burned in his mind ever since. There was Georgianna and Wickham, together with her supposed-chaperone Mrs. Younge looking on; Wickham reaching out to his 15-year-old sister, reaching out to caress her, to embrace her -- the revelation of the intended elopement.

The feeling was both heady with power and frightening at the same time, and it was back. The circumstances might have been slightly different, but it didn't matter. The feeling was still the same, and possibly even more intense. It wasn't his sister this time -- but hers. That almost made it worse, especially considering how helpless she was at present. It might have been true that no understanding had yet been reached between himself and Elizabeth, but he was so completely in love with her that anything that would hurt her hurt him, too.

Again it was Wickham, always Wickham. How, he asked himself again, could one man be the agent of so much destruction and deviousness? He was the root, the cause, the source from which this feeling flowed. While waiting for the Gardiners to respond to his initial question, he had taken a chair across from them, but the feeling bubbled up so fully inside him that once Mrs. Gardiner began he couldn't physically remain seated. He had to get up, he had to move, he had to release some of this feeling before he hit something.

Miraculously, he was actually able to form words, questions to make the situation more clear: "Is it absolutely certain that they are not gone to Scotland?" "What has been attempted to recover her?"

He knew that the Gardiners probably didn't know what to make of him just then. He looked like an animal on the prowl as he stalked around the room, and the feeling showed because every muscle in his body was tense. The feeling was growing the more information he heard. It was a simple, primal feeling: rage -- cold, determined, resolute, pure rage.

If George Wickham had somehow magically appeared before him at that moment, Darcy had a sense that the man would not have been alive for more than a few seconds. Somehow he had managed to withhold himself back at Ramsgate, but he doubted he would have been able to do so this time.

However, the rage wasn't all for Wickham. It was partially for himself. After Ramsgate, no woman should have had to endure what his sister went through. The whole world should have known exactly what George Wickham was and what he had done. But why didn't they? Because Fitzwilliam Darcy had been too proud to tell them! And now, the family of the woman he loved more than his own life was suffering because of it.

Thus, out of this rage began to form a new feeling, just as steady, just as powerful, but far more constructive. Out of the rage began to flow -- resolve.

He would make amends. He would make up for his previous mistakes and make this situation right or expend every ounce of his strength in the attempt. He would do it for Elizabeth, for the Gardiners, for Mr. Bennet, for Georgianna, and for himself. If he was ever to prove to himself that he was even remotely worthy of Elizabeth's love were she ever to bestow it, this was the time and occasion to do it.

Finally, then, when all the explaining was done, he said, "First, let us all go upstairs and break the news to Mr. Bennet together. It will affect him deeply, but he does not deserve to be kept in the dark about his own daughter. Then, I suggest that Mr. Gardiner and I make preparations to depart for London immediately. I think I may know how to find them. In fact, I know I do!"

Chapter 21

Posted on Thursday, 19 October 2006

Mr. Bennet couldn't help but resent their intrusion, if only a little bit. Time seemed so precious to him these days. Ever since he had heard of Lizzy's accident every minute took on new meaning. Every moment with her was especially treasured and valued. As much as he could, he tried to spend every waking moment sitting beside her, holding her hand, remembering all the joy she had brought him over the course of her life, and pleading with her and with God that her life would not be cut so terribly short. He was trying hard not to give in to despair, but the longer she stayed inside herself the more difficult it became to remain optimistic.

Mr. Bennet was slightly pessimistic by nature as it was, so that made it even more difficult. He had just been reminiscing in his mind about the last time he had seen Lizzy awake, the day she had left for Derbyshire with the Gardiners. As was their custom whenever she was to leave on a trip, he kissed her hand and she kissed the top of his balding head as he sat in his library. He sent her off on holiday again, as he had done many times before, telling her how much he would miss her and reminding her not to add any extra days onto her trip without considering how he would be suffering in her absence. It was customary yet meaningful banter between father and daughter, and Mr. Bennet was trying to hold on to the hope that he would get the opportunity to have such conversations with her again in the future.

Thus, the interruption by the Gardiners and Mr. Darcy could not help but seem a bit intrusive on his solitary moments with Lizzy. He let out a sigh at the nuisance, but they seemed determined to speak to him. He knew that his brother and sister had been concerned about his stamina, and the distress on their faces communicated to him that they had come to try to force him into getting some rest. He also knew that he could barely sleep during the night, so attempting to sleep during the day seemed completely worthless. Trying to head off their request, he began the conversation first by saying,

"Have you come to try to convince the 'old man' to go lie in bed with his eyes wide open as the sun streams through the crack in the curtains? Since it has worked so well after my arrival, perhaps you will be able to convince me, but I doubt it, so you can spare your energy by not attempting to persuade me into something so pointless."

The three who had entered all stopped and looked at each other for a few moments, and Mr. Bennet thought that his attempt had been successful, so he turned back to Lizzy and left them to let themselves back out the same way they had come in.

But Mrs. Gardiner got his attention by saying, "Brother, we have just received an express from Jane with some most disturbing news."

Mr. Bennet had reached his limit on bad news in the last couple of days, so he had to respond with sarcasm (his best defense mechanism). So, he dryly replied, "Let me guess. Jane has finally lost all her patience and strangled her hysterical mother and now she needs our help to run from the law."

But even while he spoke, he somehow got the feeling that whatever was contained in that letter would not be a joking matter. Mrs. Gardiner chose to ignore his attempt at lightening up the situation, and merely responded, "There is no easy way to break this news, so I will just let you read the letter for yourself. It is about Lydia."

Mr. Gardiner crossed to him and handed him the letter, and he got a peculiar sense of de'ja vu.

Another letter, another mystery, another report on one of his daughters…

He never finished the entire letter. Once he read the report from Colonel Forster, the news about the situation his youngest daughter now found herself in, he couldn't go any further.

The news of Lizzy's accident had been a shock of grief; the news of Lydia running off with Wickham was just a shock, pure and simple. He couldn't speak, he couldn't laugh it off, he couldn't ignore it. He just stared. Stared at the three who had come to try to break it to him gently.

Suddenly, his focus came to rest on Mr. Darcy. What was he doing there? Did he know what was in the letter? Had he somehow found out this most unpleasant piece of family business? The silence was strained and uncomfortable, and finally Mr. Gardiner said to Mr. Bennet, "Do not worry, brother, we will find her. Mr. Darcy and I will be preparing to leave for London immediately."

Now Mr. Bennet really focused his attention on Mr. Darcy with the most inquisitive of looks. So, he did know. But why would he be going to London? Why would he be going off to pursue Lydia and Wickham? What stake did he have in the situation? Lydia, unfortunately, was his daughter, his responsibility. He should be going to London, not Mr. Darcy. But then he thought about Lizzy, whose hand he was still clasping in his as he sat by the bed. He didn't want to leave her, in fact he couldn't imagine leaving her in this condition. What if she woke up and he wasn't there for her? Even worse, what if she passed on and he wasn't there to get to say goodbye? Still, he had to know why. Why was Mr. Darcy going to London? Was it out of pity? Mr. Darcy sensed all of Mr. Bennet's questions, saw them in his eyes, and had prepared himself for them.

Darcy responded to the unspoken questions (since Mr. Bennet had still not been able to speak) by saying, "We thought this way would be best, sir, for many reasons. First, you most likely do not want to leave Miss Bennet in her present condition."

He had to pause here for just a few seconds, to let his eyes rest on her, to try to strengthen himself since Darcy did not want to leave her in her present condition either. But he would make the sacrifice, so he continued, "Second, I have experience with Mr. Wickham that may produce some helpful leads on their whereabouts. And finally, it is most important for me to insist on helping. I cannot help but feel some sense of responsibility for the situation in which your youngest daughter finds herself."

He had not shared this information with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner before setting off to find Mr. Bennet, and they both turned to look at him now with the same inquisitive look on Mr. Bennet's face. He took a deep breath and started again,

"My experience with Mr. Wickham includes a situation very similar to this one involving my younger sister, Georgianna. I have tried to keep Mr. Wickham's infamous behavior concealed for her sake, but it was mostly due to my mistaken pride and reserve. Had I not felt it beneath me to lay my private actions open to the world Mr. Wickham would have been exposed and this elopement could never have taken place. Therefore, I must insist on lending my assistance in the recovery of your daughter, sir."

None of them had any idea just how far his assistance would go, and he decided to keep that plan to himself for the time being. While the Gardiners and Mr. Bennet attempted to process his revelation, Darcy let his gaze rest on her once again. The intensity of his feelings for her washed over him afresh and shone through in his eyes. There were so many things he wanted to say to her before he left, so many possibilities for what could happen to her in his absence.

I wanted to reassure you, Elizabeth - my love -- that I will do everything in my power to make sure that Wickham will not destroy your family's reputation. I promise you this!

Darcy wanted to plead with her to continue to hang on and not depart from him while he had to be away from her. At the same time, he wanted to urge her not to make a miraculous recovery and try to leave for Longbourn while he was gone (he knew her stubborn streak and could see her attempting this). He wanted to tell her how much he had already grown in his respect of her relatives, which he knew would please her. Most of all, he wanted to tell her over and over again how much he loved her, that she was the reason, the motivation, the driving force behind all his actions and thoughts and words. He honestly didn't know if he would have sought to restore Lydia merely for her own sake, or for the sake of the rest of the Bennets. It was for her. It was almost entirely for her. His eyes lingered, his gaze long and so intense that it seemed he was trying to pierce through to her very soul. The silence had descended again, but the look was not lost on the Gardiners, who glanced at each other and reconfirmed in an instant what they had already determined.

The look was not lost on Mr. Bennet either, and a new mystery crystallized in his brain: how much does my second daughter -- Lizzy -- have to do with Mr. Darcy's desire to discover my youngest daughter?

Mr. Gardiner finally brought them all back to the urgent business at hand, saying, "Mr. Darcy, we really should be making our preparations to depart at once. Colonel Forster will be waiting for us in London, and time is of the utmost importance. Brother, Mrs. Gardiner will stay here with you, and we will communicate with you at once as soon as we have news of Lydia."

Mr. Bennet still could not speak, so he just nodded his approval of the plan. He rose from his seat so he could go help his brother pack and discuss options for what to do once Lydia was discovered. The Gardiners and Mr. Bennet headed for the door, and Mr. Darcy called out to Mr. Gardiner, "I should be ready to depart in half an hour, sir. Will that be acceptable to you?"

Mr. Gardiner turned back while the others went into the hallway, and said, "Yes, that will be perfect. Mr. Darcy, do not take too much of the responsibility for this affair upon yourself." And with eyes full of meaning, he added, "Lizzy would not want that."

With that, Darcy suddenly found himself alone with her. He knew that time was short, and he had to call for the carriage and send word ahead to the staff at his house in London that he was on his way. But how could he resist this opportunity to speak to her, to touch her, to try to fill himself with as much of her as he could before he had to be away from her for God only knew how long? He crossed to her quickly, clasped her hand in one of his, gently stroked his fingers over her skin, smoothed back her beautiful curls from her forehead, and slowly raised her hand to his lips for one small kiss.

He closed his eyes and listened to her breathing, trying to fill all his senses with her while he could. Finally, he looked down at her and said, his voice faltering slightly,

"Please hang on, my beloved Elizabeth. I have to leave you now, but I will come back as soon as I can. Do not worry about anything, I will make sure that things are made right. You will find nothing to reproach in me this time, my love. You will be in the front of my thoughts at every moment. Keep fighting until I return."

He let her presence strengthen his resolve to prepare him for the battle, then he straightened his posture and strode determinedly for the door. He would face anything for her, anything. He would even face the man he loathed more than any other on this earth.

Chapter 22

He had been there again, she knew it. He had been at the top of the pit again, urging her on, giving her the strength and encouragement she needed to make it to the top. She still couldn't get a clear view of his face, but she sensed deep inside herself that she knew him. It was as if she had always known him, so confident did she feel in his assurances that she would make it. She believed it now, even though she was still so very tired and weak. She could see the top, she was almost there. Lizzy was pulling herself out of the pit. She couldn't wait until she pulled herself up over that final edge and could gaze triumphantly into the eyes of her reward. It was that promise whispered inside her own mind, that he would be worth it, that had kept her digging and prying and clawing and climbing this long. And this last visit from him, she knew, would give her that final burst of energy she would need to go the rest of the way. She couldn't wait to see him, whoever he was. Whether she had to walk or crawl, she would get to him, and she would begin to live out that promise.

Darcy couldn't have conceived when he left Pemberley that he could have been any more miserable than he already was. But life, it seemed, was willing to show Darcy much more misery before things would begin to turn in his favor. First and foremost, his turmoil over leaving Elizabeth seemed to increase exponentially with every mile the carriage put between them. His body positively ached with worry and apprehension and love. He had to fight every moment to keep from banging his cane against the wall of the carriage with all his might, having his man bring the horses screeching to a halt and flying back to her side.

There was, of course, nothing in the task ahead of him that excited his anticipation either. He remembered along his journey with Mr. Gardiner all of his initial impressions of Lydia Bennet from the time he had spent in Hertfordshire. Even his overwhelming love for Elizabeth could not cause him to look at her younger sister with anything but a critical eye. He already had experience in dwelling on all of Wickham's bad qualities, and he now had even more to add to that list.

However, all his musings still kept coming back to just one person: himself. He had inflicted harm on his beloved and her family, left Lydia vulnerable to the wiles of Mr. Wickham, allowed her to fall into the same trap that his own sister had barely escaped from. And it was all because of the faults in his own character. It was his desire to keep his private actions concealed and keep himself elevated above all those around him that had led to these fateful events.

Even if he and Elizabeth could never be together, he had to make amends for the wrong he had helped cause. But first, before he started looking for Lydia and Mr. Wickham's hiding place in London, he had to focus his attentions on another attempt at making amends. Darcy had insisted upon their arrival in London that Mr. Gardiner stay with him as his guest. In fact, having Mr. Gardiner along had so far provided the only kind of pleasure the journey had afforded. To his surprise, Mr. Darcy found himself able to easily converse with the older gentleman, and truly found him to be a gentleman in every respect. He was a man of sense, good judgment, and obviously cared a great deal for his family. Darcy counted himself very fortunate to have such a companion for the task at hand, and was all the more fortunate since Mr. Gardiner was a relative of Elizabeth's.

Upon their arrival, Darcy had left Mr. Gardiner in the hands of his capable London household staff to get some much needed rest before they headed out on the search. Darcy had not set out on that task without Mr. Gardiner; indeed, he now found himself in a completely different part of town from the one in which he expected to find Mr. Wickham. He had to take a chance; it was time for a confession.

As he strode to the door of Mr. Bingley's residence on Grosvenor Street, he took a deep breath and hoped that his friend would still be his friend when this visit had concluded. Bingley's man, Perkins, who opened the door recognized Mr. Darcy immediately, and tried not to show his surprise at this unexpected visit. Darcy inquired after Bingley, and found the situation to be exactly as he had hoped. Bingley was at home alone, as Mr. and Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley had gone out to the theatre that night. Bingley had some business to attend to that had kept him from joining them, and Darcy blessed his first bit of good fortune in quite a few days.

He had wanted to avoid Miss Bingley at all costs. He knew that his express, hastily worded and rushed off to Bingley after Elizabeth's accident, would not have sat well with Caroline Bingley, who was always anxious to spend as much time at Pemberley as possible. As such, his message had purposely been cryptic, stating simply that a matter of great urgency had come up and that he needed time for things to right themselves before they came for their visit. Now, Darcy could explain the real reason for the delay in person, and only to his friend. He only hoped that when all was explained and revealed, Bingley's generous and forgiving nature would come through.

Perkins led Darcy to the library where Bingley had ensconced himself for the evening, knocked on the simple but elegantly paneled wood door, opened it, and announced in his deep voice, "Mr. Darcy, sir."

Bingley's surprise, unlike Perkins', registered clearly on his face, but it was quickly replaced by delight at the unexpected pleasure of seeing his friend. He practically leapt up from his large armchair, crossed the room in long, swift strides, reached out to warmly clasp his friend's hand, and smilingly said,

"My word, Darcy, it's good to see you again. But I expected our next meeting to be at Pemberley, not in London. What brings you here?"

Darcy couldn't help but smile back at his friend's enthusiasm, even though he knew that he did not bring a great amount of good tidings, saying, "I will tell you everything about what has brought me here, Bingley. Let us sit, for this may take a while."

Bingley looked puzzled, but replied, "Of course. Would you like a drink, man, or any other refreshment?"

Darcy simply gestured to the armchair that Bingley had just vacated and went to sit in the matching one directly across from it. He took a deep breath and began,

"I have come here to ask a favor of you, one which I hope you will find pleasure in doing. To do it, I will need to give you some important information, which will hopefully give you sufficient background. I will also have to reveal something which might rightfully make you hate me, but I cannot go any longer without saying it."

Bingley immediately began to protest to the idea that he could hate his old friend for any reason, saying, "What's all this, Darcy? How could I ever hate you? And what is this favor? You know I would do anything to help you if I could. Tell me the situation and I will assist you in any way I can."

Darcy replied, "First, let me explain my express from a few days past. When I was riding back to Pemberley to consult with my steward, I saw a woman take a terrible fall on the peaks." He paused, chilled by the memory of what happened next. "I immediately rode to her to see if I could be of any assistance. It turns out that she was no stranger. It was Elizabeth Bennet."

Bingley seemed as struck by the news as almost everyone else had been. His mind flew to Miss Elizabeth Bennet and how much he had enjoyed getting to know her in Hertfordshire. Then, naturally, his thoughts went to Jane, and his heart clenched with the overwhelming sympathy he felt for what she must be suffering.

He finally managed to speak, and quickly shot out a barrage of questions. "This is terrible! How is she? Did she say anything? Does her family know? What is her condition? Why was she in Derbyshire? And where is she recovering?"

Darcy continued, "I took her to Pemberley, and there she has remained since the accident. She was touring Derbyshire with her aunt and uncle, the Gardiners, who have also been at Pemberley since the accident. Her condition has not changed for the better or for the worse since her arrival at Pemberley. Her only real injury is to her head, and she has remained unconscious. Her father and Mrs. Gardiner are still with her at Pemberley, which brings me to why Mr. Gardiner and I are here. You remember, of course, the history of Mr. Wickham, his connection with my family, and his behavior towards Georgianna."

Mr. Bingley nodded, and Darcy took another fortifying breath to continue, "Apparently, Miss Lydia Bennet, the youngest of the Bennets, was in Brighton on holiday as a guest of the wife of the colonel of the regiment. Mr. Wickham's debts had caught up with him again, and he needed to get away. He managed to persuade Miss Lydia to go with him, and now they are somewhere in London together. We have every reason to believe that they are not married and that Wickham has no intention of ever marrying her."

The look of shock seemed now to have permanently plastered itself across Bingley's features. He wondered aloud, "How much trouble can possibly fall on one family at once?"

Darcy wished he had an answer to that, but since he did not, nor would he ever know, he simply chose to get it all out at once. "Mr. Gardiner and I are here to see if we can discover them and get them married as quickly as possible. Mr. Bennet would have come, of course, but he did not want to leave Miss Elizabeth in her condition."

Bingley couldn't wait any longer. He had to know how he was to help the Bennets. "What part am I to play, Darcy? Do you wish me to assist in the search? Just tell me what is required of me and I will set to it at once!" He seemed ready to spring out of the chair at that very moment and go to the edge of the world if necessary.

This was going to be the hard part, Darcy knew. But, it had to be done. "Before I tell you what I want you to do, I need to make that confession I told you about before. You remember the conversation we had after you journeyed to London in the winter, about Miss Bennet?"

A look of sadness crossed Bingley's features and was gone in a second, but Darcy caught it.

Damn, this was getting more difficult by the second. Keep on, man. This is for the best.

"I believed her to be indifferent to you. Now, I am not so sure that I was right. But at the time, I was convinced that I was protecting you from a grave mistake. But I took my protection too far, I fear. Miss Bennet was in London for three months during the winter, visiting Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. She even came to call on your sisters. I purposely concealed her presence from you. I did not want to you to revive your regard for her, and I did not want her to get the chance to show any regard for you. I am not sure how she feels about you, Bingley, but I do not believe her to be indifferent. I hope that you can forgive me for my interference. I have realized the error of my actions, but I would understand if you hated me for it. You would be completely justified."

Bingley did spring up from his chair at this, and began to pace in front of the large, marble fireplace in the library. But he didn't say anything. Not a word. This worried Darcy immensely. He had prepared himself for shouting, cursing, a violent verbal or even physical outburst. He would have expected it, even welcomed it in comparison to this silence. He was ready to beg his friend to say something, anything, to get a glimpse into his thoughts, but he also did not want to pressure him to speak before he was ready.

Bingley finally stopped pacing, but turned his back to Darcy and was holding onto the mantle above the fireplace with both hands. Without turning around, he said, "Be honest. How do you think she feels about me?"

This was not what Darcy had expected at all. He tried to gather his thoughts as best he could, remembering what Elizabeth had told him in Kent. He could only manage, "I think that is something you will have to go find out for yourself. But I have a feeling that if you renewed your attentions to her, she would be receptive to them."

Bingley finally turned around, faced Darcy, and said, "So you are telling me that she was in London, all those months, and you concealed it from me?"

He had said it with a great deal of control, but Darcy could tell he was angry. So he simply said, "Any justification I can offer is sorely lacking, I know. Overall, it was an arrogant presumption based on a failure to recognize your true feelings, and possibly Miss Bennet's as well. I should never have interfered. It was very wrong of me, Bingley, and I apologize again."

Bingley still seemed as though he was trying to grasp all he had heard. He only said, "So you admit that you were in the wrong?"

Darcy replied, "Utterly and completely."

Bingley had never heard his friend say that he was wrong, about anything. His anger was gradually being replaced by excitement.

Jane Bennet might not be indifferent to me, after all! She might even welcome my addresses! But how can I renew my attentions to her if she is in Hertfordshire and I am in London?

Then, suddenly Bingley remembered everything else that had been revealed in this most extraordinary conversation, and he said, "The favor...," his voice trailing off as he began to form an idea of what Darcy might require of him.

Darcy seized on the opportunity to make his repentance complete, saying, "Yes, the favor. Miss Bennet was the one who wrote to us at Pemberley about Miss Lydia's elopement with Wickham. She is at Longbourn right now essentially by herself. Apparently, she has had to almost completely take over the household in her father's absence and has had to care for her mother, her other sisters, the Gardiner children, and all the household staff. She is most likely extremely worried for her sister's health, not to mention the situation with Miss Lydia.

Darcy hesitated only a moment to glance at Bingley's countenance to see how he was receiving all this information, "Charles, it is my belief that I think your reappearance in Hertfordshire at this time would be a great help to her, if you were to offer your assistance in some of the business matters and such. If you came to the aid of Miss Bennet and her family now, it would reconnect you and give you a chance to ascertain her feelings for you. So, it has been my ultimate intention in coming here tonight to suggest that you travel back to Netherfield with all haste and make yourself available as a helper to Miss Bennet in her time of need.

With a trembling voice, casting his eyes down trying to quickly gain control of his emotions, Darcy continued, "I have discovered in recent days, my friend, that time and love are precious in this life. If you have truly found someone you can love and spend your life with, you should do your utmost to make sure that you do not remain apart from that someone. So go to her, my friend, and see if fortune will smile on you."

Bingley did not hesitate to ask. "So I have your blessing?"

Darcy had to suppress a slight laugh at this question, and asked in return, "Do you need my blessing?"

Realization was continuing to dawn in Bingley, and he was already mentally preparing himself for his coming journey back into Hertfordshire. But he still wanted Darcy's final stamp of approval, so he said, "No. But I should like to know I have it all the same."

Darcy was so relieved. Bingley seemed to have gotten past his anger and was now completely focused on rekindling his relationship with Miss Bennet. Darcy again silently blessed the easy and forgiving nature of his friend, and was finally able to smile and say, "Then go to it. She needs you."

Darcy rose, shook his friend's hand, and left him to make plans for his journey into Hertfordshire. He showed himself out onto the street, feeling as though a large chunk of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. With the feeling, his thoughts immediately flew to Elizabeth, and as he walked the short distance to his own home, he said to himself,

Please, let this be one more reason for her to wake up.

Mrs. Gardiner was on her shift in Lizzy's room while Mr. Bennet again tried (though rather unsuccessfully) to get some sleep. The room was dim as the candlelight flickered in the summer night. She had a light hold of her niece's hand and was trying hard to focus her attention instead of staring off into space and possibly dozing off herself. The fluttering was at first so subtle that Mrs. Gardiner had to shake her head rapidly and look again to ensure that she hadn't imagined it.

Slowly, ever so slowly, it seemed as though the curtain that had enveloped Lizzy since her accident might finally be lifting. She almost seemed to squint, as if even the soft candlelight was too much for her eyes to handle yet. But she was waking up. She really was waking up! Mrs. Gardiner could barely contain her joy, and she grasped Elizabeth's hand more tightly and whispered as gently as she could in her excitement, "Lizzy! Lizzy, can you hear me? It's your Aunt Gardiner. Lizzy, wake up! Come on, dear, wake up, that's right."

Mrs. Gardiner did not want to leave her, but she knew she had to go get Mr. Bennet and the doctor right away. She rose up from her chair and was preparing to run down the hall so she could get right back, but she came up short. Lizzy was weakly tugging on her aunt's arm, and her parched lips seemed like they were trying to form words, her first words in many hours. Mrs. Gardiner stopped and leaned closer, since the sounds were so faint she almost had to put her ear all the way up to Lizzy's mouth. It took her a minute to make out what Lizzy was trying to say, not only because her voice was so faint but because she had still not completely come awake yet.

There were only three words, and they came out haltingly, but Mrs. Gardiner was sure she heard her niece say, "Where… is… he?" Mrs. Gardiner immediately replied, thinking Lizzy was talking about her father, "He is just next door, dear, don't worry, I will go tell your father immediately that you are asking for him."

But Lizzy tugged on her arm again, a bit more forcefully now. She still had not managed to completely open her eyes, but she said it again, "Where… is… he?"

Mrs. Gardiner could only stare at her niece, still not understanding who Lizzy was asking for. Then, the bolt struck, and Mrs. Gardiner spoke aloud without realizing, "It couldn't be… could it?"

Chapter 23

Posted on Sunday, 22 October 2006

Mr. Darcy and Mr. Gardiner got a very early start the next morning for many reasons. Time was of the essence, both because they wanted to find Lydia quickly and because they both wanted to get back to Pemberley as soon as possible. But they were aided by the fact that Mr. Darcy had a pretty good idea of where to begin, and they made fast progress towards their first goal: Mrs. Younge. Darcy knew that Mrs. Younge had opened a boarding house in London after her discharge from his employ, and he also knew that if Wickham was in trouble he would have most likely gone to her for assistance at some point. He and Mr. Gardiner managed to stop her before she slammed the door in their faces, and he paid her handsomely and threw in some threats until she finally divulged Mr. Wickham's whereabouts.

By that time, it was getting on into the evening hours, but neither Mr. Darcy nor Mr. Gardiner was willing to stop when they were so close to their goal. Mr. Wickham had not been in Mrs. Younge's boarding house, unfortunately, but she had given them the address of the lodgings he was presently occupying with Miss Lydia Bennet. On their way to the address, Mr. Darcy and Mr. Gardiner decided that it would be best to separate Wickham and Lydia as soon as possible and converse with each of them alone. Mr. Gardiner would talk to Lydia since he was related to her, and Mr. Darcy would be left to try to talk to Wickham.

Darcy was dreading it but was also looking forward to it in some ways. He wished that he could just take Wickham to debtor's prison right on the spot, but that wouldn't solve the problem of the damage Lydia's reputation had already sustained. No, he had to get him to marry her, and he felt great empathy for the Bennet family for the relative they were going to have to gain through the marriage. The two men reached their destination, looked at each other with a look mingled with both resignation and anticipation as they knocked on the door.

The woman who ran the boarding house answered, Darcy held out a few coins for her, and asked if she would be so kind as to show them the room Mr. Wickham was occupying at present. The woman, who rarely had seen such impressive-looking gentlemen at her establishment and who was never one to turn away an offer of extra money, quickly reached for the coins and said in a heavy accent,

"Right this way, loves. The man and his young lady friend are in one of our upstairs rooms overlooking the street."

They were lead down narrow hallways and up a flight of stairs that looked like it might collapse under them at any moment. Finally, the woman gestured to a door to her left, and said, "Here we are, loves. Can I do anything else for ye this fine evening?"

Darcy smiled just enough to be polite and said, "No, thank you for your assistance. We are not to be disturbed."

With that, the woman left them the way they had come, and Darcy and Mr. Gardiner exchanged the same look they had at the front door, not knowing what they would find when they lifted their hands to knock.

Darcy shrugged as if to say, "Here we go," and pounded on the door.

They heard footsteps and the slightly muffled sound of a female voice in the room, but it was Wickham who first came into view when the door opened. He immediately let go of the door and took several steps backwards when he saw who was on the other side of it, but he quickly recovered himself and tried to speak with as much ease and charm as he could muster.

"Why Darcy, what a surprise. What brings you to London at this time of the year, and with a stranger no less?"

Lydia just stood by the bed looking aghast at the appearance of not only her uncle, but Mr. Darcy of all people! Then, as was her tendency, she began to laugh, a silly bubbly laugh that showed her complete lack of sense about the situation she found herself in. Mr. Gardiner stepped forward towards his niece and said, "Lydia, calm yourself and come with me. Now. We will go downstairs and talk for a while, while Mr. Darcy talks with Mr. Wickham."

Lydia protested at once, "I cannot. I cannot leave my dear Wickham."

But Mr. Gardiner had already taken her by the arm and was leading her out of the room, saying, "Don't worry, dear, you will have your whole life with him now."

Mr. Gardiner exchanged one more look with Mr. Darcy and left him to the task at hand: how to get Wickham to marry Lydia, since now their suspicions about their not being married had been completely confirmed. The door closed, and Darcy began at once, without much tact, simply stating, "You will marry her, Wickham, make no mistake about it."

Wickham laughed now, saying, "Marry her? You must be joking, Darcy. She is amusing enough for a temporary companion, but she has begun to grate on me somewhat. I don't want to marry a girl who cannot help me financially, either."

Darcy could feel his anger bubbling up inside him, but he controlled it enough to reply, "You have no choice. You will not impose yourself on the Bennets any longer than you already have. You will do the honorable thing and you will marry her. I will not allow Miss Lydia's other sisters to suffer because she was so unfortunate as to fall under your power."

Here, Wickham's bravado led him into the gravest of mistakes. He laughed again and said, "Ah yes, the other sisters. I seem to remember that Miss Elizabeth was very fond of me, probably still is. How unfortunate that she was not in Brighton, otherwise I surely could have persuaded her to join me on my journey, and I'm sure it would have been a vast deal more agreeable than my present company. Lydia is always lively enough, but not quite in the same way as Elizabeth. Ah yes, her company would be vastly agreeable."

Those were the last phrases Wickham would utter for quite some time, and he spun backwards and fell to the floor as Darcy's fist connected soundly with his face.

Mr. Gardiner was a patient man. At least, he liked to think he was. Whenever he had to deal with a sticky situation with his own children, he tried to approach it logically but firmly, with plenty of compassion and patience. He also realized, however, how much he relied on his wife to help back him up and balance him out in those situations. Soon after removing his niece from the presence of Mr. Wickham and Mr. Darcy, he was silently longing for his wife's presence. His patience was not likely to last long with Lydia, nor did he have much faith that a logical approach would work with a girl who clearly lived in ignorance of the seriousness of her situation.

After he got Lydia seated downstairs, at first he simply wanted to put together some of the details of the journey she and Wickham had taken since they left Brighton. Through his questioning, Lydia told him the story with all the excitement and verve she would have used to talk about the latest gossip from Meryton or her dance partners at the assembly rooms. There was nothing of remorse, contrition, sadness or grief about the trouble she had caused or the reputation she had ruined; indeed, Mr. Gardiner wondered if his niece had ever felt sorry for anything she had done in her entire life.

Mr. Gardiner did his best to try to communicate to his niece the impropriety of her situation, but it was no use. Not only would she never acknowledge any error in judgment, but he soon discovered that she absolutely refused to leave Wickham for any length of time. Mr. Gardiner tried insisting that she must come to Gracechurch Street with him and Wickham must remain in the boarding house until they could be married, but Lydia saw no reason why she should be separated from her "dear Wickham."

He alternately felt like he wanted to bang his head against a wall and that he wanted to bang Lydia's head against a wall. He wondered if Mr. Darcy was having any better luck with Mr. Wickham, but seriously doubted it. Finally, he had to tell Lydia that both she and Mr. Wickham would be going to Gracechurch Street until the wedding, and Lydia seemed to be satisfied. What she didn't realize was that between Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Darcy and all the plans that had to be made to get the wedding done quickly, they would be kept apart as much as possible until they were actually standing in front of the minister.

Mr. Gardiner sighed as he wondered how much money it would cost to bring the marriage about, since he knew it would primarily be coming out of his pocket. That thought quickly made him realize that he should really be the one upstairs with Mr. Wickham since the negotiations for the financial settlement should begin in earnest as soon as possible. He was also extremely tired after a long day of searching and he didn't know how much longer he could tolerate his niece's company on his own. He told Lydia that she needed to make preparations to leave, so they made their way back upstairs to the room she had been sharing with Wickham.

Whereas Mr. Gardiner would have knocked, Lydia seemed to feel no need to knock on the door to her own room, so she pushed her way forward. Mr. Gardiner's patience may have been wearing thin, but his astuteness was ever-present. He was able to make a quick assessment of the situation in the small room. Lydia seemed oblivious to the tension she had walked into, but Mr. Gardiner felt it wrap around him like a thick London fog. He also took note of the condition of Mr. Wickham's face, which Mr. Gardiner felt certain must have come into contact with Mr. Darcy's fist. Although Mr. Gardiner generally opposed violence, he couldn't bring himself to condemn Mr. Darcy's actions in this case. Not only did Wickham's conduct merit severe punishment, Mr. Gardiner also felt himself increasing in his alliance to the man he believed was in love with his favorite niece.

Mr. Darcy turned and voiced Mr. Gardiner's next thought, "It is time for us all to get out of here. Now."

Mr. Wickham seemed to have no more fight left in his body, and Lydia was already buzzing around getting her things together. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Gardiner met in a corner of the room to have a brief conversation to assess the situation and make their next plans. Mr. Gardiner began by saying, "Lydia refused to leave unless I assured her that she and Mr. Wickham could stay together. I think they should both be taken to my home in Gracechurch Street, since having Mr. Wickham stay under your roof would not be agreeable to any party involved. I also need to begin negotiations with Mr. Wickham immediately to come to terms on the necessary financial settlement."

Mr. Darcy simply responded, "The financial settlement has already been reached."

Mr. Gardiner gave Mr. Darcy a quizzical look and said, "What do you mean? So quickly? How did you make a financial settlement without knowing how much money I was willing to give?"

Mr. Darcy looked deadly serious and left no room for argument when he replied, "Because it will not be your money, sir. It will be my money."

Mr. Bingley couldn't seem to get anything to move quickly enough in his preparations to return to Hertfordshire. It seemed that his servants were moving at a snail's pace, and he knew that things were not going to be ready in time at Netherfield. This, of course, was only Mr. Bingley's perception of things. His servants seemed to sense the urgency in their master, and they were doing everything they could to respond to his suddenly demanding nature. In truth, even if the servants had been moving at the speed of light it wouldn't have seemed that way to Mr. Bingley. He wanted to be gone, immediately if not sooner. Since Mr. Darcy's unexpected and very illuminating visit, he had thrown all his plans out the window and focused all his energies on getting himself back to Hertfordshire, back to his angel. She needed help. She needed him. She might perhaps even be persuaded to... but he didn't want to get his hopes up. Even Mr. Darcy was not completely assured of her feelings for him.

Mr. Bingley planned to make himself useful to the family at Longbourn in any way he could, at the same time patiently watching to try to ascertain her feelings for him. But after so many months of believing she didn't care for him at all, it was doubtful that Mr. Bingley could stay in her presence for even a few minutes without blurting out everything he was feeling. He didn't even know if he had enough patience to stop at Netherfield before going to Longbourn. He might just stop there first. In fact, he might even decide to ride ahead of all his possessions just so he could get there sooner. The more Bingley thought about that particular plan, the more he liked it. He would be there hours sooner if he didn't wait for the packing to be completed, so he grabbed the first servant he saw rushing past him and said,

"Have my horse prepared at once. Quick, man!"

Then he took the stairs to his bedchamber two at a time to change into his riding clothes, penned a quick note to leave for Caroline and Louisa, dashed back down the stairs and out the front door, still giving last-minute instructions to the servants on his way to his waiting horse. Waiting until the next morning wasn't even a possibility. Mr. Bingley was off again to try to win the affections of the woman who had captured his heart all those months ago.

There were so many things Lizzy didn't understand. She had returned to a world that she didn't recognize, and she couldn't remember how she had come to be there. She saw her father and her aunt, but they were all that was familiar. The only other things she knew for certain was that her head hurt like the very devil and that she had called out for a man whose identity she didn't know and who wasn't even there. Her body had been racked with nausea and sometimes the pain was so intense she couldn't even open her eyes all the way.

She had met Dr. Shelton briefly, and she had heard something about being out of danger but having a very slow recovery ahead of her. Her aunt had gone off to send letters to everyone letting them know that she was finally awake, so she was alone with her father. He seemed much older than he had the last time she had seen him... when was that again? Oh yes, when she had left Longbourn to go on holiday with the Gardiners. Lizzy's last memory that she could trace was touring the great estate of Chatsworth with her aunt and uncle.

Now, somehow, she had ended up here with her aunt and her father, with no sign of her uncle and a pain more intense than any she had ever experienced. To make things worse, she didn't even know where "here" was. She was in a strange bed in a strange room with strange servants running in and out almost every minute. She couldn't tell what the view was out the windows but she was sure she wouldn't recognize it, either.

Even though it hurt her head tremendously to even think about all her questions, she had to try to get some answers from her father. He was holding her hand, just as her aunt had done, as if they were all afraid she would slip away from them if they let go of her for a split second. She was surprised her father could hear her at all when she began to speak. Her voice sounded to her ears like the whisper of wind through a reed. She hated all this weakness and wanted it to end, but she was still so very tired. Her curiosity could not wait, however, she had to at least know where she was and how she had gotten there and where the horrible pain had come from.

Her first question to her father, with her eyes only half open to try to fight off the pain, was, "What happened to me, Papa?"

Mr. Bennet seemed surprised by her question, and responded, "Do you not remember anything of the accident, my child?"

Lizzy tried to search her memory for anything resembling an accident, but she couldn't find anything of the sort in her mental inventory.

"No, the last thing I remember before waking up and seeing my aunt was touring Chatsworth with her and my uncle in Derbyshire. Are we still in Derbyshire?"

Mr. Bennet was concerned about his daughter's lack of memory of the accident, but at the same time he was slightly relieved that she couldn't recall something so traumatic. So he tried to make his explanation as brief as possible, saying,

"Apparently, you and the Gardiners had stopped your carriage to take a walk on the peaks. You made it all the way up to the top, but you took a false step and had a very bad fall. That was almost four days ago. Your only major injury was your head."

"Major" seemed like the understatement of all time to Lizzy, but she kept that observation to herself at the moment, not wanting to worry her father. Four days? She had been unconscious for four days? She pushed that thought aside for the moment and asked, "So the Gardiners brought me here, wherever here is?"

Mr. Bennet knew his daughter would be exceedingly surprised to discover that she was recuperating in Mr. Darcy's bed, but he thought it best to get that revelation out of the way as soon as possible, so he continued with the rest of the story.

"No, actually Mr. Darcy just happened to be riding by when you fell, and it was he who brought you here while your aunt and uncle fetched Dr. Shelton from Lambton."

If her father told her she had sprouted a third leg, she couldn't have been more surprised. She cried out with more force than she thought she possessed,

"Mr. Darcy brought me here? So where are we?"

As soon as she had spoken, she had a feeling she already knew the answer, but it seemed too unbelievable to be true, so she just breathed out,

"Oh, no. It can't be. Papa, are we at Pemberley?"

Now that his fear of losing his daughter was receding somewhat, Mr. Bennet could once again take some pleasure in watching her reaction to learning all the details of her present circumstances. So he said with mock solemnity,

"My dear, you not only find yourself at Pemberley, the seat of the honorable gentleman Mr. Darcy, but you find yourself in his very own bedchamber."

Lizzy was not a fainter by nature, it was a weakness she would never allow herself. But if there had ever been occasion to faint, this would have been it.

I am in his bed! The very man I had so ungraciously refused had taken me into his home and given up his own bed for me during my illness! I cannot believe this? Even more so especially because I have not seen nor heard any evidence of his presence since I woke up.

She tried denial first, saying, "No, Papa, you are joking. If we are at Pemberley, then where is our host? If Mr. Darcy brought me here, then why isn't he here? And speaking of those who are not here, where is my uncle? He was with me before this accident you speak of, and I have not seen him either. Your explanation is seriously lacking, Papa."

Mr. Bennet had hoped to avoid the subject of Lydia's elopement for as long as possible, at least until Lizzy was a little stronger, but it seemed that all his daughter's stubborn persistence was as strong as ever. He sighed and said,

"I am in earnest, Elizabeth. Something else has happened in our family in the last four days besides your illness, and it can easily account for the absence of Mr. Darcy and Mr. Gardiner. They are in London at present, trying to ascertain the whereabouts of your youngest sister."

The hits just kept on coming. Lizzy said, "Lydia? What has happened to Lydia? I thought she was still at Brighton. Why are they looking for her in London?"

Mr. Bennet knew he couldn't make this any easier, so he said, "Your sister left Brighton and ran off to London with Mr. Wickham. They have been living together there and apparently are not married. Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Darcy have gone to try to discover them and if they are not married to get them married as soon as possible."

Lizzy felt the tears begin to well up in her eyes and roll unchecked down her cheeks. Lydia had eloped with Mr. Wickham!

Anxiously she thought, "I could have prevented it by informing everyone of his true character."

Elizabeth felt all the guilt and the loss of her sister's reputation most acutely. But at the same time, she still couldn't believe what she was hearing about Mr. Darcy.

Why had he gone to London to try to retrieve her sister? Why had he purposely put himself in the path of Mr. Wickham after all that man had done to him and his family?

It was too much, too soon. She couldn't process it all, and thankfully at that moment Dr. Shelton arrived with some laudanum to ease her pain and allow her to get some rest. As she drifted off into her drug-induced slumber, her mind was filled with thoughts of Mr. Darcy. Through the haze, one thought in particular pierced through, and it was a question that would torture her through the remainder of the night and into her waking hours as well:

"Is he the man I have been calling out for…?"

Chapter 24

The letter from Pemberley arrived two days after Darcy lost his temper with Wickham and laid him flat on the floor. Mr. Darcy had once again traveled to the Gardiner's home on Gracechurch Street, continuing the negotiations with Wickham and with Mr. Gardiner to try to get Lydia's wedding done as soon as possible. Even though Mr. Gardiner had a difficult time understanding the stubbornness of Darcy -- the resolve with which he insisted upon bearing the entirety of the expense for the marriage -- the two men had found strong allies in each other. They had bonded over their desire to return to Pemberley, their worry for Lizzy, their impatience to get Wickham and Lydia married, and their general disgust over the attitudes and actions of the two young people they were attempting to save.

Mr. Darcy had been absolutely unflinching in his demands; he had taken on nearly every detail in the planning of the wedding and had insisted that all the necessary funding come out of his own pocket. Not only that, but he also insisted that Mr. Gardiner not reveal the extent of his financial involvement to anyone. Here Mr. Gardiner had to step in with a demand of his own, insisting that he had to be allowed to tell his wife. He refused to keep secret from her something that, at least by all appearances, would involve their family's finances. He assured Mr. Darcy that Mrs. Gardiner could be trusted to maintain the strictest confidence, and Mr. Darcy agreed that she could be informed as soon as they returned to Pemberley.

Mr. Gardiner continued his work in drawing up the legal paperwork for the marriage, and he also knew that the time had come to inform his brother-in-law about what was happening with his daughter. The desire to not burden Mr. Bennet too greatly when he was so distressed over Lizzy's condition was keen, but Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Darcy had worked out an acceptable plan to shield Mr. Bennet from knowledge of Darcy's involvement yet still let him bear some of the responsibility for the marriage of his youngest child.

The plan was more acceptable to Mr. Darcy than it was to Mr. Gardiner to be sure. Mr. Gardiner did not like the idea that he would be forced to put up with having all the credit of getting Lydia married and not actually having all that much to do with it, but once again the stubbornness of Mr. Darcy won out. He simply would not give way. He felt so much personal responsibility for Lydia's situation that he had to feel that he had done everything within his power and influence to make things right.

On this visit on this evening, Mr. Darcy had called in his own barrister Mr. Wiley to aid Mr. Gardiner in finishing up the exact wording of the financial settlement. As soon as they had received Mr. Bennet's reply to their letter, the wedding could go forward almost immediately. The men were extremely weary from their work of the last few days and with having to endure Lydia's excitement and Wickham's nonchalance about their coming nuptials.

All three men had their heads leaned over the documents that had their attention, and they were so intent on their work that the housekeeper had to knock more than once and eventually let herself in to deliver the letter that had just arrived for her master. She cleared her throat once, twice, and finally had to say,

"Excuse me, sir, my apologies for interrupting, sir, but this just arrived for you, sir."

All three men jumped as though a gun had gone off when the housekeeper spoke, but Mr. Darcy composed himself quickly and stepped forward to take the letter, saying,

"Thank you, Hollings. Do not trouble yourself, as it seems we were ready for an interruption."

The housekeeper flashed a brief smile at her wonderfully kind master, dropped a brief curtsey to the room and hurried back to her duties, closing the doors of the study behind her. Darcy saw to whom the letter was addressed and handed it immediately to Mr. Gardiner. As his gaze dropped to the letter he recognized the handwriting of his wife immediately, knew that she would not be writing unless she had some important news about Lizzy, and turned his suddenly concerned gaze to Mr. Darcy.

In the short time they had together during this trying situation, the two men had gotten extremely talented at reading each other's emotions recently, and Darcy felt his heart lurch and begin to race wildly in his chest at the emotions he saw in Mr. Gardiner's eyes. Darcy managed to get his vocal cords to function enough to say,

"Mr. Wiley, we will no longer require your services today. I think we will be able to take care of the rest. Thank you for your assistance, if you would please excuse us."

Mr. Wiley wasn't a slow man, and he didn't require much more of a hint than the clear dismissal he had just received, so he quietly gathered his things and exited the same way the housekeeper had a scant minute or two before. As soon as the door closed, Mr. Gardiner began without ceremony to open the seal on the letter, even though he had a slight bit of trouble, as his hands were slightly shaking.

Mr. Darcy did not even have to ask where the letter was from or what it was about; he had been waiting for such a letter ever since their arrival in London. The anticipation of it had been like an itch crawling under his skin, never letting him truly rest, never letting him feel any peace. How could he feel peace? He didn't know if his beloved would ever wake up; if he would ever get to see her beautiful smile, hear her darling laugh, watch the enchanting sparkle dance in her eyes. He didn't know if he would ever get to experience the ultimate joy of hearing her proclaim her love for him and that she would be by his side forever.

These thoughts alone were enough to send him into the most amazing daydreams, but the reality would come crashing in when he thought of that letter that might be coming at any moment and that it might carry the news he knew he could not bear. And now, the letter was here, staring him in the face, and he knew with certainty that the rest of his existence in this life would depend on the news that letter contained.

Mr. Gardiner finished with the seal and began to read its contents. It seemed like eons passed before he completed it, and it also seemed that this was to be one of the only times when Darcy would not be able to read Mr. Gardiner's emotions. His expression had remained even and calm; a poker face that would have served him well at White's. He finally looked up and said,

"I should go inform Lydia about her sister. Perhaps you would like to read the news for yourself, as I am sure my wife would not mind."

Mr. Gardiner passed the letter to Darcy and as he turned to leave him alone with it, a slow grin spread over his face. He thought to himself as he went to find Lydia, Indeed, I am sure my wife intended all along that you should read this joyous news for yourself.

If Mr. Gardiner's hands had been shaking when he first felt the letter between his fingers, Mr. Darcy's hands were positively trembling. He could barely hold on to the paper and didn't know if he could actually bring himself to read it. But Mr. Gardiner's expression and words had been so guarded he was absolutely going insane with wondering, so he forced his eyes to meet the words that flowed gracefully and evenly across the sheets of Pemberley stationary. Mrs. Gardiner's words read as follows:

My dear husband,

I hope your journey to London has given you all the results we have hoped for, but it seems cruel to keep you in suspense of the purpose behind this letter. Not very long after you and Mr. Darcy made for London, our dear Lizzy came back to us. I was present when she awakened, and at first I was concerned because she seemed a bit disoriented, asking for a man she was sure had been with her. It was not her father, however. Even Dr. Shelton remains uncertain about the cause of this, but he has assured us that she is recovering well. She remembers nothing of the accident, which the doctor assures us is perfectly normal, but praise be to our God that she remembers who she is and who we are. With time and plenty of rest, she should have no permanent damage and will be able to return to all her normal activities.

She has been forbidden to travel until Dr. Shelton has approved it, so it appears that she will have to remain at Pemberley for some weeks at least. However, I am sure you will agree that we have every cause to rejoice. I pray that this business with Lydia can be concluded soon so that you can return to us, my dear; send us word as soon as you have any news on that front.

Also, you may give Mr. Darcy every assurance that his staff continues to be wonderfully attentive to all our needs, which allows us to be available for Lizzy during her convalescence. Your return is eagerly awaited by all, and I remain forever yours, etc.

M. Gardiner

Darcy let the letter drop to the floor, sank into a chair, held his head in his hands, and allowed himself the release which his tears of joy provided.

The letter from London arrived a little more than two days after Darcy had lost his temper with Wickham and laid him flat on the floor. It seemed that the entire household at Pemberley had focused all their attention and energy on Lizzy's recovery. Mrs. Gardiner and Mr. Bennet helped her through her frequent bouts of nausea, even though Lizzy hated having anyone see her so weak. She still had not managed to get herself out of the bed, even though she would have leapt out of it if she had had the strength.

She tried to be as patient and gracious as possible with the Pemberley staff and with Dr. Shelton, knowing how fortunate she was that Mr. Darcy had opened his home to her and her relatives. Indeed, her ears were fairly ringing with the praise she heard of his kindness and service from her father and her aunt, and she hardly knew what to make of it. She had determined almost immediately that Dr. Shelton was NOT the man she had "seen" while she was struggling to wake up. She was positive within herself that whoever the man was, she would know it as soon as she saw him, and she experienced nothing out of the ordinary when the doctor entered her presence.

It wasn't one of the servants, either, even though Mr. Bennet and Mrs. Gardiner could both tell that every single member of the household who came into contact with Lizzy was impressed by her good nature, strength, and endurance. There were some whispers in the kitchen and stables about the possible connections between the charming young lady and their master, but Mrs. Reynolds would not allow even a hint of a rumor to be circulated amongst the staff.

Indeed, her admiration of the young woman known as "Miss Elizabeth" was greater than anyone else's on the staff. She came into contact with her more often than anyone, as her master had left her with strict instructions regarding the young lady's care should she awaken during his absence. Mrs. Reynolds knew her master had placed his trust in her that she would take on any responsibility necessary to ensure Miss Elizabeth's comfort and recovery. Mrs. Reynolds, as always, took her duties very seriously, and tried to treat Miss Elizabeth much as she would have treated Miss Georgianna in the same circumstances, with much gentleness and compassion.

Lizzy greatly appreciated all the efforts of the Pemberley servants on her behalf, especially those of Mrs. Reynolds, whom Lizzy had come to trust almost instantly. One of the servants had just delivered some of the fragrant summer blooms from the Pemberley gardens in an elaborate arrangement to help brighten up Lizzy's room, and Lizzy and her aunt had both been delighted by the color and vibrancy they added to their now familiar surroundings. As the servant curtsied and exited the room, Mr. Bennet entered while the door was open. His look carried a mixture of chagrin and bewilderment, and Lizzy and her aunt were instantly concerned. Lizzy pulled herself up slightly against the mountain of pillows behind her and said, "Papa, what is it?"

Her father walked around to where Mrs. Gardiner sat next to the bed and gave his daughter a kiss on top of her head before replying, "I have had a letter from your uncle from London."

Both women were instantly aware of the importance of such a letter, and Lizzy blurted out, "What news does it bring, good or bad?"

Mr. Bennet offered a slight smile and said, "What is there of good to be expected? Why don't you read it aloud, sister, as I hardly know what to make of it myself?"

Mrs. Gardiner knew that Mr. Bennet did not want to let Lizzy do anything she was not ready for, so she took the letter Mr. Bennet held out to her and began to read as Mr. Bennet began to pace:

My dear brother and wife,

I pray that all has gone well with Lizzy since our departure. I am pleased to be able to offer you news of my niece and Mr. Wickham. I have seen them both, and they are now both safely under my roof at Gracechurch Street. They are not married, nor can I find there was any intention of being so; but if you are willing to perform the engagements I have ventured to make on your side, I hope it will not be long before they are. All that is required of you is to assure your daughter her equal share of five thousand pounds she will inherit on your death and to allow her during your life one hundred pounds per annum.

You will easily comprehend from these particulars that Mr. Wickham's circumstances are not so hopeless as they are generally believed to be, and I am happy to say that there will be some little money, even when all his debts are discharged, to settle on my niece. There will not be the smallest occasion for your coming to town; therefore stay with Lizzy at Pemberley and depend upon Mr. Darcy and myself to be diligent and careful.

Send back your answer as soon as you can and be sure to write explicitly of the financial settlement. We have judged it best that my niece should be married from this house, of which I hope you will approve. It will all be finished as soon as the particulars are decided upon. I shall write again as soon as the details are cemented.

Yours, etc. Edw. Gardiner.

The letter had been interrupted occasionally during its reading with outbursts of questions, and the ladies were shocked at this new information. It had not seemed possible that Wickham would marry Lydia for so little, but then it became obvious that Mr. Gardiner was laying out a great deal of money to bring the marriage about. Mrs. Gardiner did not question his decision; indeed, she knew she would have approved of it instantly had she been there. She felt sorry for him and for Mr. Darcy that they had to deal with Lydia and Wickham on their own, and she was extremely sorry for the distress the whole situation was causing for Mr. Bennet and Lizzy.

Finally, Lizzy asked the key question, "Have you answered the letter, Papa?"

Mr. Bennet sighed and said, "No, but I must, and soon."

"Yes! You must respond immediately, there is not an instant to lose," Lizzy exclaimed.

Mrs. Gardiner agreed wholeheartedly, and volunteered to go send word to the family at Longbourn as well, since she was relatively sure her husband and Mr. Darcy had not thought of that. Perhaps, she thought, both of the letters she sent would arrive at about the same time. Lord knew that the residents of Longbourn, especially Jane, could do with some good news.

Mr. Bennet and Mrs. Gardiner both left to see to their tasks, and Lizzy was left alone to think again about all the effort Mr. Darcy seemed to be making on her behalf and that of her family.

What could have brought about this transformation? Did he just feel sorry for me because of my accident? Or could it be something more? She didn't know what to think, not until she could observe his manner for herself.

The letters from Pemberley arrived close on each other's heels about three days after Darcy had lost his temper with Wickham and laid him flat on the floor. When Hill had found her with the two deliveries, Jane was about ready to begin tearing her hair out. Mary's dreadful singing was careening through the house with no regard to her mother's (or her eldest sister's) nerves, Aunt Phillips had returned to visit her mother with more bad tidings of Mr. Wickham, her cousins were growing impatient to see their parents and could not understand the seriousness of the situations that were keeping them away, and affairs of the estate were wearing heavier on her shoulders every day.

When the two letters were placed in her hands, Jane didn't know how much more she could handle. She now had some small taste of what her father endured every day, and she realized how much they all leaned on him and how she wished she could lean on him right now. Her thoughts flew to her sister and she instantly felt guilty that she would wish her father away from Lizzy's side when she needed him, too.

As her thoughts rested with her sister, Jane thought she would try one of Lizzy's tactics for when it felt as though the walls of the house were closing in around her; she would take the letters and go for a walk. She told Hill as much before she left the house and set out along the road toward Meryton. She didn't want to run into anyone, but she also wasn't quite as intrepid as Lizzy in roaming over the countryside.

She walked slowly so that she wouldn't trip while she read the letters. Both were from her Aunt Gardiner, and as she read them both, tears of relief began to stream unchecked down her cheeks. It appeared that both of her sisters were out of danger! She mourned for Lydia's situation, but at least they could perhaps make something of their marriage.

"And Lizzy! Oh, her dear Lizzy! She was alive and awake and recovering!"

Jane clasped the letters to her heart in a silent prayer of thanksgiving to God, and she felt as though that heart wanted to jump out of her chest and run wild across the hills with the joy of the news. Instead, her heart jumped up into her throat as she stumbled to a halt and gasped at the sound of a very familiar voice and looked up to see the sight of a very familiar man on a very familiar horse. She could not stop her mouth from gaping open as Mr. Bingley blurted out,

"Good day, Miss Bennet."

How Can I Face Your Father ~ Section III

By Erinmarie

Beginning, Section III

Chapter 25

Posted on Wednesday, 25 October 2006

Jane felt like some sort of strange codfish, standing with her tear-streaked face turned upward and her mouth gaping open. Her shock and surprise could not have registered any more clearly; they were there like beacons in her eyes. She also found herself completely incapable of speech, and she had no earthly idea what she would say if she could speak. Her mind could not seem to carry out any of its normal functions. Her feet turned to two blocks of stone and she didn't know if they would ever be able to carry her from that spot on the road to Meryton where the man she had loved, the man who had disappeared from her life all those months ago, had suddenly reappeared without warning. That was why she couldn't compose herself, she thought to herself as her brain began to function somewhat normally again.

She had no forewarning of his appearance, and her emotions were already in a tumult because of the two letters she had just finished reading from her Aunt Gardiner. That was the explanation for why her heart seemed to dance inside her at the sight of him, the reason that the world now seemed to burst forth with dazzling light when just a short while ago everything was cloaked in a veil of darkness.

She could conjure up nothing reasonable to account for his presence, however. It was too early for the hunting season, and there was really nothing else to draw him back to Hertfordshire from London. Unless he had returned for... no, she would not even consider that possibility. Surely Mr. Bingley no longer had any feelings for her and probably never had in the first place. She would not even delude herself with the thought that his motives for this strange meeting could be anything along those lines.

For his part, Mr. Bingley was having a hard time believing his luck and so after his initial greeting had gone as mute as Jane. He did have the presence of mind to dismount from his horse so she wouldn't have to be staring up at him like a statue of some great war hero. When he felt his feet touch the ground, he grabbed the reins a bit more tightly than usual since he was feeling a bit weak in the knees. His mount objected to the extra pressure, threw back his head, tossed it to the side, and managed to shake Mr. Bingley off balance until he stumbled backwards and landed directly on the seat of his riding pants.

Mr. Bingley's mortification could not be measured. His attempt to be gallant and charming, to try to secure the hand of the angelic Miss Bennet was off to a most inauspicious beginning. Neither one of them could seem to speak, and he had just showed himself to be clumsy and completely ungraceful. Jane was instantly alarmed at his fall, so much so that she couldn't even take the time to be amused at the moment. She was shaken out of her temporary stupor and rushed forward, bending down and saying,

"Oh dear! Mr. Bingley, are you alright? Are you hurt? Here, let me help you."

She took his hand and tried to pull him up, but she had not braced herself properly for the effort. She stumbled backwards, lost hold of his hand and fell ungraciously in much the same way she had just watched Mr. Bingley do. So there they sat, the two of them, on the road to Meryton; the man looking for a second chance, and the woman who had tried so unsuccessfully to rid her mind and heart of him.

They tentatively allowed their eyes to meet, and then something occurred which had never happened in the whole course of their acquaintance. In the positions they both found themselves in, positions which could have been utterly humiliating, their guards went down. And as if they had both realized the unique humor of it all at the same moment, they both began to laugh. Softly at first, then louder, the rich deep chuckle of Mr. Bingley mixed with the lighter sweeter laugh of Miss Bennet. Soon, they were both laughing so hard that tears began to roll down both of their faces, and every time they seemed ready to compose themselves, they would catch each other's eyes and it would start all over again.

Mr. Bingley was holding his sides as they began to ache from laughing, and Miss Bennet was trying to wipe her cheeks as the tears of mirth replaced the tears of relief she had shed as she read her aunt's letters. One can only guess what any passerby might have deduced from such a scene, not to mention what opinions Miss Bingley or Mrs. Bennet might have offered about their apparent lack of decorum. But for the man and woman sitting on the road to Meryton, none of that mattered. They both needed a release, a way to start over again, and as their laughter finally began to die down and their eyes met again, they both realized that they had found it.

Both of them pushed themselves back to their feet and dusted themselves off, with Mr. Bingley giving a mocking scolding to the horse that had sent him to the ground. It felt so wonderful, so right, and so comfortable to be back with her again. Suddenly, Jane looked down at the now considerably wrinkled letters she held in her hand, and she realized that she had yet to share the news contained in them with her mother and sisters and the rest of the household at Longbourn. Surely they would want to hear the wonderful news of Lizzy's recovery and that arrangements were being made for Lydia and Wickham's wedding. She said,

"Mr. Bingley, I am sorry to have to leave you, but I must return to Longbourn at once. There is news in these letters that my family must hear."

Mr. Bingley let some of the reason for his presence slip somewhat when he replied, "Have you received news of either of your sisters? Has your youngest sister been found? What about Miss Elizabeth, is there news of her condition?"

Jane had absolutely no idea how he knew about any of that, but she was touched by his look of concern and the sympathetic tone of his voice. She felt that she couldn't help but step into his confidence, knowing he could be trusted. She replied,

"My Aunt Gardiner has sent me news of both of them. My uncle and Mr. Darcy have found Lydia and Wickham. They are not yet married, but hopefully they will be very soon. All the arrangements are being made right now. It is such a relief! But that is nothing compared to the news about Lizzy! She is awake! She is recovering and my aunt says she should have no permanent injury! My mother and sisters must be told at once! We have all been so worried."

Mr. Bingley nodded his agreement and gave a sigh that indicated how relieved he was to hear both pieces of news. He also recognized an opportunity when he saw one, and being so unwilling to part from her now that he was with her again, he asked,

"Would you allow me to escort you home, Miss Bennet?"

Jane, who had now returned to her normal demure self, simply lowered her eyes and nodded her head. She might not have been willing to acknowledge it yet, but as they headed off toward Longbourn together, Mr. Bingley could feel them picking up right where they had left off all those long months ago. She was even more beautiful, even more sweetly angelic than he remembered, and their moments of laughter together had been like a feast after a long span of hunger. This time, he vowed to himself, the ending would be different. This time, there would be no parting. This time, he would not give up so easily. This time, it would be forever.

Home -- The thought of it was the only thing that would get him through this day. His reserved demeanor was turning out to be very useful as he prepared to witness the wedding ceremony of Lydia Bennet and George Wickham. It was true that his love for Elizabeth had helped him to change a great many things about his personality, had opened him up to people in a new way, but being able to revert back to his old self was advantageous in undesirable situations such as this. It allowed him to tune out the excited babble of Elizabeth's younger sister and to control his continuing desire to repeat his beating of his childhood companion. It also gave him the perfect cover for his private thoughts, which always allowed him to drift back home.

Home -- to Pemberley, where he had never been more eager to go than right now. He was not simply looking forward to the peace of the gardens or the comfort of his library; he was not merely looking to escape from the nearly unbearable presence of the soon-to-be Mr. and Mrs. Wickham. No, this homecoming was more eagerly anticipated and thought of and dreamed of than any other he had ever known for one simple reason. He had fantasized ever since his realization that he was in love with Elizabeth Bennet that someday, if he was called away from Pemberley for some reason, that he would have the joy and certainty of knowing that she would be there, waiting for him when he returned.

During the time after her rejection of his first proposal of marriage, it was a fantasy that had increased in frequency, but decreased in the likelihood that it would ever happen. Now, even though the fantasy was not complete in the sense that Elizabeth was not awaiting him as his wife, it was still sweeter than it had been in months. Indeed, if Mr. Darcy allowed himself a moment of objectivity and rationality, he truly had no idea of how Elizabeth was going to respond to him when he returned to Pemberley.

Would she be looking forward to seeing him, or would she be dreading it? Would she be willing to explore the possibility that he had changed, or would she assume that to be impossible? Could she ever love him, or even be friends with him?

Mr. Darcy tried not to dwell too much on these questions just now. The important thing was that she was alive, she was at Pemberley, and he would be with her soon. Even with the idealized version he was playing out in his head as they pulled up to the church, a small sigh escaped him at the task ahead. He had to stand with Wickham as he married Lydia Bennet; a marriage that he thought was completely ill-advised but also completely unavoidable. He would not allow George Wickham to stain any other woman's reputation, especially that of his Elizabeth.

It was amazing to him, he thought with an inward smile, how quickly his thoughts returned to her. Any train of thought could lead him to think of Elizabeth, so completely did she fill his senses. They were finally standing before the minister, and as "Dearly beloved" began to echo through the mostly empty church, Darcy let his mind drift once again.

He dreamed he was standing in such a church with Elizabeth at his side, taking the solemn vows to love and honor her for the rest of their lives. He dreamed of the sparkle in her eyes as she said her vows back to him, dreamed of the joy that would swell in his heart as she became Mrs. Darcy.

With more force than he had felt it that entire day, he wanted this wedding ceremony to be over. As soon as it was, the couple would be sent on their way to Longbourn for a visit before Wickham headed off to his new regiment in the north. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Gardiner would finally be on their way back to Pemberley to be reunited with Mr. Bennet, Mrs. Gardiner, and Elizabeth -- Home... Home…to Elizabeth. It was finally happening. He would finally get his chance, his second chance to prove himself worthy of her. His only problem was that he didn't know if he could wait any longer.

Chapter 26

Elizabeth Bennet prided herself on the functioning of her mind. She had always had a quick, sharp wit and her reasoning was usually quite sound. She was practical enough to know that her mind would probably last much longer than her looks, so she placed great value on the improvement and maintenance of her mental faculties. After she awoke from the trauma of her accident, she needed to be reassured by the doctor that everything in her head would be alright, that she had not lost any of the capabilities that she so treasured. Dr. Shelton had done an excellent job of laying her fears to rest.

However, Elizabeth Bennet now was seriously considering the possibility that she was losing her mind, and not because of any trauma to her head. Elizabeth had never been an idle woman, and the enforced inactivity of bed rest during her recuperation was slowly driving her mad. She had been staring at the same four walls ever since she woke up. They were very nice walls, and she could not complain about the comfort of her surroundings or the attentiveness of the Pemberley staff and her own relatives. But Lizzy was used to doing things for herself, and the feelings of helplessness and boredom at being confined to bed were growing steadily unbearable. She could catch a glimpse outside the windows of the glorious summer days at Pemberley, and she heard great reports of the grandeur of the grounds and gardens, but she was trapped. It did not sit well. But the confinement of her recuperation would have been easier to bear had it not been for the other cause that felt as though it was pushing her to the brink of insanity.

Her aunt and father did a good job of keeping her company, especially due to their tendency to hover over her as if she could relapse at any second. But even their presence did very little to quiet the never-ending questions running rampant in her mind about Mr. Darcy. And no matter how long she pondered them, no matter how hard she worked to try to come to some understanding of the situation, she always came back to the same questions over and over again.

The man and her relationship to him seemed to be like a puzzle, and none of the pieces fit: what she knew of him from Hertfordshire, the opinion she had held of his disposition and character, the letter he had given her at Hunsford, the belief that her actions that day had turned him away from her forever, and the reports she was hearing about his actions during her illness and now with her sister. The questions plagued her, would not let her rest, were a thorn in her side and in her mind. And she was growing more confused and more frantic by the hour, knowing that he was soon to return, that soon she would have to face him again.

She had attempted to convince Dr. Shelton that she was ready to travel so that she could return to Longbourn before he made the journey back from London, but her efforts had been completely unsuccessful. Dr. Shelton would not take any chances; she had to remain at Pemberley. Correspondence between her uncle and her father had indicated that the new Mr. and Mrs. Wickham were headed for Longbourn after their wedding. This had taken some convincing of Mr. Bennet, but finally he had yielded in an attempt to lessen the force of the scandal. Thus, since it was necessary for Mr. Bennet to return to Longbourn to "welcome" his daughter and new son-in-law, and since Mrs. Gardiner felt it necessary to retrieve her own children from Longbourn, the two of them were set to travel there as soon as Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Darcy returned from London.

Mr. Gardiner would remain with Lizzy at Pemberley until she was fit enough to return to Longbourn herself. This had all been arranged so that there was no possibility for Lizzy to escape at least a few days in Mr. Darcy's company. But in all her confusion, Lizzy was not even sure that she wanted to escape. She was curious, she was intrigued, and she needed answers. Somehow she knew that the only way she would get them is if she was able to spend time observing Mr. Darcy's behavior for herself. She had to see with her own eyes whether or not the reports were really true.

"Had he really changed so drastically from the proud, arrogant man I had known in Hertfordshire and Kent? And if so, had he changed for me? Could he possibly still have feelings for me after my horrible behavior to him when he first proposed? Why would he have behaved so pleasantly with my family? Why would he have placed himself in contact with Wickham to help my sister? Why would he have opened his home and left such extravagant instructions for his servants? How will he act when I see him again? Will he despise me for my new connection to Wickham? Will he resent my presence in his house? Will he try to get rid of me quickly? So many questions running through her mind.

But what baffled her the most: How does he really feel about me? How do I want him to feel about me?

Elizabeth knew she had been terribly unjust in her judgment of his character, so deep down she knew she deserved nothing but his wrath. If he felt only contempt for her, she would regret it, but it would be easy to accept as her due for her actions.

Do I want to be just his friend? Do I want his love? I will not really know until I can see him again, talk to him, and observe him with my family. Has he really changed? If so, how should I respond?

Lizzy's consternation was written all over her face, and she was ready to growl her frustration out loud when her Aunt Gardiner knocked on the door. Lizzy knew what she had to do -- she had to get up, she had to get dressed, and she had to get out of the house. She felt stronger and stronger every day, and she had always gone walking when she needed to clear her head. If there was ever a time that she had needed clarity, this was it. Lizzy had to convince her aunt that she was ready to venture outdoors, so she pounced as soon as the door opened.

"Aunt, will you please call for a bath for me? I would like to get up and take a stroll around the grounds."

Mrs. Gardiner had sensed Lizzy's mounting frustration at being confined to bed. She knew her niece was going stir-crazy. But she was concerned that Lizzy wasn't yet ready to begin to pick up her normal activities.

"Lizzy, I am not sure if this would be a wise thing to do? Perhaps we should ask Dr. Shelton first what he thinks before you go outside."

Lizzy hung onto her patience and pleaded, "Please, I do not want my recovery to be hindered any more than you do. I would not be asking for this if I felt I was not strong enough. Indeed, I feel my recovery would be aided by allowing me fresh air and some exercise. I want to wear real clothes and get outside these walls. Please, Aunt, please let me."

Mrs. Gardiner knew Lizzy was right, but she was still not going to yield without a concession. "All right, Lizzy. But I am going with you. Do not worry, I will give you time to wander, but I just want to make sure I am outside with you in case something happens and you need me."

Lizzy was disappointed, but she knew it would make her aunt feel better if she could supervise her time outside. "Very well. Let us see if I can actually look like a normal woman again for my return to the world," she replied with a smile.

In just a short while, Lizzy was clean, dressed, had her hair in some kind of order, and was slowly making her way down the stairs and out to the soft and peaceful summer day in Derbyshire. Lizzy had never seen the outside environment at Pemberley before, and she let out many gasps of awe and delight at what she saw. The house seemed to be perfectly situated both standing out from the environment and seemed to blend with it all at once. Such beauty and harmony were rarely to be seen, even in all the grand estates she had toured previously. Her aunt took a seat on a bench in one of the more formal gardens, and Lizzy decided to wander down and get a closer look at the pond and stream. As it turned out, Lizzy was going to need her aunt's help on this day, if only to help her find her lost composure.

Darcy was annoyed with himself. He had been dreaming, wishing, planning, and preparing for the moment of his return to Pemberley and to Elizabeth since the moment he left. Now that the moment was finally upon him, now that the carriage which held both he and Mr. Gardiner was finally making its way up the long twisting drive to the main house, he did not know if he was ready to go the rest of the way. His emotions were swirling around in his head, and they had been building and shifting during the entire trip from London. He just needed a little more time. He needed to try to clear his head and really prepare himself for what he was going to encounter when he entered the house. Some of his anticipation had given way to anxiety, and he needed to calm himself.

It seemed as if the entire possibility of happiness in his future was resting in the next few days, and the weight of that thought became heavier with each mile. He needed more time. He was dusty, he was tired, and he was emotionally drained. To the great surprise of Mr. Gardiner, Darcy suddenly pounded on the wall of the carriage with his fist and called out to the driver,

"Stop the coach!"

Mr. Gardiner was very concerned, and asked, "Is there anything wrong? Why are we stopping?"

"If you will forgive me, sir, I believe I would like to walk the rest of the way to the house. Please take the carriage and go on without me, I will be along shortly."

"As you wish, sir, take all the time you need."

Mr. Gardiner thought he had an idea of what Mr. Darcy's reasons were for his sudden desire for exercise, so he merely shook his head as Darcy exited the carriage. He could only hope that his niece would be gentle with Darcy's feelings in the days to come. He did not know if he had ever seen a man so besotted.

Darcy hardly knew where he wanted to go on his walk, but he found himself making his way towards the pond at the head of the stream. The summer sun was performing a sparkling dance on the water, and it seemed to draw him in, mesmerizing him. His mind flew immediately to the sparkle in his beloved's eyes as he gazed at the water, and he knew suddenly that taking a swim was just what he needed. He could wash away the travel dust and sweat, clear his head, and then he could sneak into the house and groom himself thoroughly for his encounter with Elizabeth.

He removed his coat and sank down on it in the deep wild grasses by the pond. The cravat that seemed to have been choking him for hours went next. For a few moments, he just sat there, staring off into the distance, replaying for the millionth time in his mind what their meeting again would be like, trying out all the different scenarios.

Very soon, I will have to make it happen. I will have to show her that I have changed to make myself worthy of her.

With this resolve, he got to his feet and made a firm, smooth dive into the pond. He pushed through the cooling water, letting it flow over him, letting the water's properties sooth and calm him. When he emerged back to the surface, pushing back up towards the sun, he felt almost reborn. He was still nervous. Indeed, he would have doubted his humanity if he had not been so nervous. But now he felt ready to take the initiative. He was ready to try to win back the woman of his heart. He felt he was in control. He would take it slow so as not to scare her away, and hopefully there would not be any surprises.

Darcy gathered his belongings, hanging his discarded garments over his arm as he made his way back towards the house. Since he was no longer fit to be seen before his guests, his plan was to sneak in through the servant's entrance and make his way up to one of the guest rooms. He would call for his valet, who would retrieve some clean clothes for him, and then he would find Elizabeth.

But fate has a different plan, as one of the formal gardens came into view, all of his well-laid plans flew out the window in an instant. The moment had come. Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy were face to face once again. Composure, control, and preparation were all lost. Surprise, embarrassment, and confusion took their places.

Lizzy found her tongue first, but all she could get out was the exclamation,

"Mr. Darcy!"

Not only was she completely astonished that he was suddenly before her, as if all her thoughts of him had managed to cause his appearance, but she could not help but notice that he was missing some of his clothing and he was dripping wet. She knew she should not look; it was not proper, but she could not help it.

He responded with the only words that would form for him:

"Miss Bennet!"

He was mortified; this was not among the scenarios he had thought about for days and days. For her to see him like this, unable to speak a whole sentence and completely disheveled from his swim, was along the lines of a nightmare. However, he could not help but notice that in spite of her recent injuries, her beauty was still enough to take his breath away. She had not regained all her color yet, her eyes had yet to come back to their full depth and sparkle, her hair seemed to have dulled slightly from her time in bed, and she was still so lovely it made him ache with longing. He snapped himself out of his haze long enough to listen to her attempt at conversation.

She was saying, "I had no idea you were back, and I had no idea I would meet you out here."

"I decided to take a walk before I returned to the house. And do I find you and your family in good health?" He could think of nothing else to say.

"Yes, we are all in good health, thank you. I am recovering well." She was still slightly tongue-tied from his appearance.

"I am glad to hear it. I have just arrived."

"Yes."

"And your parents are in good health, and all your sisters at Longbourn?"

Lizzy could not help but chuckle slightly, even though her lack of composure was showing as much as his was. "Yes, they are all in excellent health as far as I know, sir."

Darcy was aware of her looks and knew he had to retreat and make his physical appearance more acceptable for company, so he simply said, "Please excuse me," and hurried off across the lawn to the house.

Lizzy's aunt had arrived from the garden just as Mr. Darcy was disappearing, and Lizzy's mortification was hitting her all at once.

"Oh, what am I doing here? Why could I not have waited to come outside? Why could I not have found a way to leave Pemberley before he arrived?

She must look a fright from the accident, and she didn't know if she was ready to accept his wrath after all. Her aunt was trying to find out what had happened, but Lizzy was already making her way back to the house. With any luck, she could bury herself in the room she was using and not come out again until it was time for her to leave. It took a long time to get back to the main entrance of the house, for they had wandered rather far afield at Lizzy's request.

To her surprise, just as she and her aunt were entering into the courtyard at the front of the house, Mr. Darcy reappeared, fully dressed and ready to receive them properly. He was apologizing for not being in a position to do his duties as host as soon as he arrived, he was expressing his delight in seeing her aunt again, and Lizzy was stunned. He didn't seem angry at her, he was not reserved and haughty, and he seemed to be making a genuine effort to make her not feel like an intruder, but like an honored guest. Her questions were beginning to be answered.

Was it really possible? It seemed to be so, and the transformation is happening before my eyes.

She allowed Mr. Darcy to lead her back into the house, and she tried to reconcile herself to the idea that she had to get to know him all over again. To her continued surprise, it was not such an unpleasant thought.

Chapter 27

Posted on Saturday, 28 October 2006

Thinking about this chapter reminds me of one of my favorite Disney movies of all time, "Beauty and the Beast." Not that our Darcy is a beast of course, but in the words of the inhabitants of the enchanted castle, "We'll wait and see, a few days more, there may be something there that wasn't there before." Enjoy! ~erinmarie

The morning would bring the departure of Mrs. Gardiner and Mr. Bennet from Pemberley, so naturally it was imperative for all the current guests and residents of Pemberley to make the most of the time remaining. Important communications needed to be made, opportunities seized, messages delivered. Mrs. Gardiner was anxious to be reunited with her husband after his absence, especially considering she was to be separated from him again on the morrow.

After recovering from the rather shocking sight of Mr. Darcy wearing far less than the usual amount of clothing and in far less than its usual state of dryness, Mrs. Gardiner returned to the inner courtyard outside the front entrance with Lizzy. Lizzy's distress from her encounter with the master of Pemberley was much more acute than her aunt's, and Mrs. Gardiner was being careful to observe the reactions of the gentleman and lady to the renewal of their acquaintance.

The embarrassment of their first encounter seemed to overwhelm every other emotion, but suddenly Mr. Darcy appeared before them again, having emerged from the house and apologizing eloquently and profusely for his improper state and his inability to receive them according to his duty. He still wasn't quite perfectly put together in his appearance, Mrs. Gardiner noticed, but he had obviously been in a great hurry. Lizzy would have noticed it too, but she seemed unable to lift her eyes to look fully into the dark and handsome pair that were waiting for her to do exactly that.

Mrs. Gardiner didn't know upon watching the scene continue to unfold whether to breathe a sigh of relief, laugh out loud, or just shake her head. Certain facts were crystal clear. Lizzy was clearly trying to reconcile her past dislike of Mr. Darcy with the kind and accommodating man standing before her, a man who had just endured days of mortification to bring about her sister's rescue and who had opened his home to her without reservation after her accident.

Mr. Darcy, on the other hand, was clearly trying to bend himself in half if necessary to be the exact opposite of everything Lizzy had previously described him as being. He was obviously in pursuit of her niece, and Mrs. Gardiner was indeed relieved that he wasn't willing to back down. It was amusing to see each of them fight their internal battles without really seeing the same struggles in the other, but Mrs. Gardiner was also sober enough to know that there were deep emotions and life-changing ramifications involved. In spite of her desire to relieve Jane and the rest of the Longbourn household of the burden of caring for her children and her longing to see them again, she really was sorry that she wasn't going to be around to give Lizzy and her suitor encouragement in the days to come.

Mr. Darcy turned to escort them both inside, where they found Mr. Gardiner emerging from the library with Mr. Bennet. Mrs. Gardiner moved immediately to her husband, and they embraced warmly. Mr. Gardiner also disregarded his audience and leaned down to place a sweet kiss on his wife's cheek. They clasped hands and their eyes glowed just like they had on their wedding day all those years ago.

Although Lizzy and Darcy were not looking at each other, they both smiled at the reunion they were witnessing and would have been surprised to know how similar their thoughts were on seeing it. It ran through each of their heads that before them stood an example of matrimonial happiness that few ever found. They each felt a slight tightness in the chest as the sweet but painful longing for that kind of intimacy and closeness with a marriage partner, a partner for life, flowed through them.

Mr. Gardiner leaned down again to his wife and whispered, "I have much to acquaint you with, my dear. Shall we find a quiet spot together?"

Mrs. Gardiner nodded her head and smiled, and he led her back into the same room he had just emerged from. Mr. Bennet crossed the foyer to have a little confrontation with his daughter on the fact that she was scampering around the grounds instead of being in bed recovering from her injuries, and Mr. Darcy quietly excused himself to go off in pursuit of Mrs. Reynolds. He had just hatched a wonderful plan for the evening ahead, and he would need her assistance.

"He did what?!"

Mrs. Gardiner sat across from her husband in one of the large leather chairs in the comfortable and masculine library. Her husband had been recounting the events in London that had led up to the marriage of Lydia Bennet and George Wickham, and Mrs. Gardiner felt that she already had a relatively firm grasp on what had transpired there from the correspondence that had been exchanged during her husband's time away. But nothing could have prepared her for the shock and disbelief she felt when Mr. Gardiner revealed the full extent of Mr. Darcy's involvement in the affair.

Along with Lizzy, Mr. Bennet, and the rest of the family at Longbourn, Mrs. Gardiner had been led to believe that the marriage had been brought about through the financial assistance of her husband. Lydia's dowry, the settlement of Wickham's many debts, and the purchase of a commission for him with his new regiment in Newcastle would have taken a significant outlay of funds from the Gardiners. Mrs. Gardiner had never objected, and indeed had been most grateful that the money was available to assist her niece, even though she knew her niece had not the sense necessary to be grateful for it herself. But now, now it was all astonishment! Could it really be true?

Her husband answered her question before she even voiced it. "Yes, my dear. The entirety of the expense needed for the resolution of this affair came from Mr. Darcy's own pocket. He insisted upon it, and also insisted that no one else know of it. He absolutely would not yield, even though I tried to tell him that he took too much upon himself. Eventually, I was able to convince him that you had to be included in the secret, since you are my wife and it involved our family's finances. So throughout the whole time we spent in London, I really was not of much use to Lydia, but now I must put up with having the credit of it."

Mrs. Gardiner was floored. "I do not understand! Why did he do it? And why does he want it to be a secret? It speaks so highly of his noble character, why can it not be made known how much he did for Lydia?"

Mr. Gardiner allowed himself a slight smile when he replied, "I think that all the answers to your questions come back to one thing, or rather one person: Lizzy. His reasons for taking on the financial responsibility were the same as those he related to us before we left for London. He felt responsible for the fact that Wickham's character had not been previously exposed, and he wanted the chance to make things right. But if his feelings for Lizzy are anything like what I think they are, he did it for her. He did not want her to experience any further pain or discomfort over Lydia's situation. As for his reasons for keeping his full involvement a secret, I think that is also related to his feelings for Lizzy."

"But he has to know how grateful Lizzy would be to know of his assistance. Would it not be a high recommendation to her of his concern for her family?"

"I do not think he wants her gratitude, dear. I think he wants her love, and he wants to make sure that she does not have a chance to get the two confused. So will you promise to keep his secret?"

"Of course! If he feels it necessary to keep this from Lizzy and the rest of the family, then we should respect his wishes." Mrs. Gardiner paused for a moment, and then said, "So you really think he is in love with her, Edward?"

"Not only do I think he is in love with her, Madeline, I think he has been in love with her for quite some time. When we received your letter informing us of Lizzy's recovery, I think he was as relieved as I was, if not more so. I do not think he wanted to leave her in the first place, and as soon as we were in London he wanted to get the business concluded as quickly as possible so he could return. I only hope that our Lizzy will be gentle with him. She is so decided in her opinions, and she could hurt him a great deal, I think."

"I do not think that Lizzy knows her own heart yet. When she is around him, she seems confused, but not completely disinclined to him. I pray that he will be patient with her! But he seems terribly determined, and he will need to be. Oh my dear, you must be sure to keep me informed of any developments after I return to Longbourn!"

"Well I am sure that if I do not, Lizzy would, so you need not worry. Now, how is she, truly? I noticed that she was out with you when I returned. Is she really that strong already?"

"No, I do not believe that she is, but I think she would have started throwing objects around Mr. Darcy's bedchamber if I had not let her go outside. You know Lizzy, my dear. Confinement is not in her nature, and it has been getting harder for her by the day. But she needs to give her body a chance to catch up with her wishes!"

The Gardiners continued on in this manner, updating each other on life since they had last met, until one of the servants knocked to inform them that dinner was being served.

It had to be perfect. In a radically short amount of time, Mr. Darcy had managed to set the household staff scampering about like mice in his attempt to pull off the perfect evening with Elizabeth and her family before Mr. Bennet and Mrs. Gardiner left for Longbourn in the morning. The menu for dinner had been altered, new wine and port had been retrieved from the cellars, flowers, candles, and decorations had been arranged, and the music room had been cleaned and lit.

Mr. Darcy was hoping that Elizabeth would be drawn to the beautiful new pianoforte he had purchased for Georgianna, and that perhaps she would even grace the party with a performance before the evening was over. Finally, when every detail was to his liking, or as much to his liking as it was going to get, the Bennets and Gardiners were summoned from around the house as Mr. Darcy stood at the entrance of the dining room to welcome in his guests. He greeted the Gardiners and Mr. Bennet with a polite "good evening" for each, and even managed a few smiles in the midst of all his nervousness.

Then, the one he had been waiting for was before him, and he didn't know if he was even going to get "good evening" out. He didn't even know if he was still breathing. He didn't understand how it was possible for her to become lovelier every time he saw her, but it was true. She was even more beautiful than he remembered her being just that afternoon, although he was concerned by the slightly exhausted look she had on her face.

He had to remember to go slow with her. After all, she was still recovering from an accident that had almost killed her. He gave an inward shudder at the reminder of that dreadful thought and immediately gave thanks to heaven at the same time that this evening was at all possible, that he had his beloved with him and had the chance to show her his love.

She broke the silence first with a "Good evening, Mr. Darcy," accompanied by a small smile.

Her eyes had met his briefly, and he took that as an encouraging sign. Then she turned back towards the dining room, and she gasped in delight. The room had been transformed into something out of a fairyland, with all the bounty and softness of a summer's eve that seemed to have spilled in from the outdoors. The lighting from the candles gave the room a peaceful and inviting glow, and the mixture of aromas from the delectable food and the various flowers from the Pemberley gardens was pleasing indeed.

Lizzy turned her gaze back to him, and now her smile was full and her eyes were more alive than they had been in days. Darcy thought his heart would burst on the spot. It was exactly the kind of reaction he had been hoping for, and he was struck by how much joy it gave himself in trying to bring joy to Elizabeth. He would trade everything he owned for the opportunity to bring her joy every day, for the rest of his days. He gave her his arm to escort her into the dining room, feeling that the evening was already exceeding his expectations. Later, he would reflect that the worst, and the best, was yet to come.

The meal had been absolutely delightful, both in the culinary delights served up by the Pemberley kitchen and the conversation to be had around the table. Now that the gentleman had tasted Mr. Darcy's finest port and the ladies had taken ample time to examine the pianoforte, the party joined together once again in the music room. Lizzy was still running her hands over the pianoforte when the gentlemen entered, exclaiming to her aunt over the beauty of the instrument.

When Mr. Darcy entered, he approached the two ladies and said, "You are more than welcome to play it any time you wish during your stay here, Miss Bennet. You may play it right now if you like."

Lizzy started to protest, but her aunt interrupted her. "Oh yes, my dear, if you are feeling up to it I would love to hear some music."

Lizzy was still uncertain. She did not want to impose upon Mr. Darcy any more than she already had, but then he looked at her with an intensity that made her feel strangely weak as he said,

"Please, Miss Bennet. I must add my wishes to those of your aunt. I would take much pleasure in hearing you perform again."

She looked back at the pianoforte, then looked back at him, and said, "It is a beautiful instrument. Very well then let us see if I am up to the challenge."

Lizzy took her seat at the instrument, and the other occupants of the room arranged themselves comfortably in preparation for the performance. Mr. Darcy made sure he had a seat that allowed him the best view of her, and when her fingers touched the keys for the first notes, her darling voice sounded out clear and strong. He was sure that the angels in heaven could not do better. He let the sounds wash over him, closing his eyes and not bothering to hide his delight from anyone.

The musical interlude continued, and Lizzy was trying her best to fudge her way through a difficult passage when she began to realize she was having trouble seeing the notes on the page. She fought valiantly to make sure that no one else knew that anything was amiss, but her vision was getting more blurred and she was feeling dizzy and disoriented. She stilled her hands on the instrument, thinking she would pause to get her head back in order and then move on without anyone being the wiser. But her head would not cooperate. Her head was spinning, and she felt as though she was going to plant her face into the keys at any second. The entire room was rocked out of their peaceful enjoyment of the music as Lizzy's elbow crashed down on the keys and she caught her head in the palm of her hand, closing her eyes while trying desperately not to faint.

It did not matter in the slightest that Mr. Darcy was the farthest from Lizzy in the seating arrangement. He was quicker than all the rest of them put together, especially when he saw Elizabeth in distress. As soon as her hands had ceased, his eyes had opened and he had focused his vision on her. He knew something was wrong, but when she slumped forward into her hand his terror moved him like lightening. She looked to be having some sort of relapse from her injuries, and Darcy did not think he could bear it if she fell unconscious again.

He was at her side in an instant, calling her name and trying to find out what was happening to her and if she was alright. Her father, aunt and uncle all crowded around her as well, and the three of them along with Mr. Darcy formed a sort of protective shell around her where she still sat on the bench at the pianoforte.

Lizzy did not respond to anyone for a while, even though she could hear them. She just did not have the strength. When she finally felt like she was getting her bearings back, that the worst of it, whatever it was, was over, she slowly lifted her head and met the eyes of Mr. Darcy, who was kneeling directly in front of her.

Their eyes locked, and the look seemed to freeze them in time. Lizzy could not tear her gaze away from what she saw in his eyes. They were filled with anguish, worry, concern, and if she was not imagining things…love.

It was as if the moment stripped both of them down to the bare essence of their feelings. He could not hide anything from her in that moment as the rest of the room faded to nothing and they were left there with only each other. Lizzy's response was given without a conscious thought. The smile started small, just turning up the corners of her mouth, then it reached her eyes, and soon it spread to her whole face. In her response, she acknowledged everything she saw in his eyes and showed him that she was not disgusted by it, was not scared of it, and did not reject it as she once did in another time and place. It was a look that showed acceptance of his feelings, and the budding of some of her own feelings as well.

To Darcy, it was a look he would never forget in his entire life. Her face, which had seemed weak and lifeless when she had first raised it to him, now seemed aglow from the inside. There was no miscommunication, no misunderstanding to be had. It was a ray of hope like none he had experienced in all the months since that horrible day in Hunsford. It was his first real assurance that he might still have a chance to win her. How could he help but smile in return?

So there they stayed, for how long neither one of them could tell. Then, her relatives were helping her to her feet, insisting that she return to her room immediately to rest and exclaiming that Dr. Shelton should be fetched at once to re-examine her. Darcy came out of the glorious haze he had occupied and volunteered to put himself to use by seeking out the doctor. But he knew she was going to be well…she had to be. He had a chance. Her fine eyes had told him so.

Chapter 28

She had waited long enough. Lizzy knew that she should have guessed her family would overreact after her fainting spell in the music room, but she had no idea that they would conspire with Dr. Shelton to confine her to bed rest again. It had been four days since that incident at the pianoforte, three days since her father and aunt had departed for Longbourn, and Lizzy had had enough. They had even stubbornly refused to allow her to go downstairs to see them off on the morning of their departure. Lizzy admitted that she was tired, but not so tired that she could not be incensed at being treated like a child. Her recovery had been going along steadily until the minor setback of a few days ago, and she did not like being imprisoned any more the second time than she had the first. In fact, she was even more discontent with her enforced bed rest after her small taste of freedom, a taste that had included her re-acquaintance with Mr. Darcy.

Her mandatory separation from him was testing her fortitude in ways she had not expected and certainly did not enjoy. She was somewhat surprised to find that she really was anxious to see him again, that she was finding it extremely difficult to be under the same roof with him and not be able to be in his company. She found him to be an intriguing mystery at present, but one that she was looking forward to solving. His behavior towards her and her family continued to baffle and humble her.

"Only I fully knew how little I really deserve Mr. Darcy's kindness and attentions -- all the words I had spoken to him at Hunsford in anger and prejudice that should have justly made him hate me. And yet the evening we had spent in his company on his return had shown him to be everything charming, respectful, mindful of my wishes and desires, generous to a fault, and imminently concerned for my health and comfort. When our eyes met…he seemed to speak volumes of unspoken feelings to me. I could not turn away from his ardent look."

Lizzy did not understand all the whys and hows of the radical alteration in Mr. Darcy's manner, but she wanted to see if it would continue. Would something happen to cause him to return to his taciturn disposition of old? Had he simply forgotten that she was now Wickham's sister-in-law, and when he remembered would he begin to despise her? Lizzy did not have a name or even an appropriate description for her feelings towards Mr. Darcy at present, but she knew that she was hoping with all her might that he would not think ill of her. She longed for his good opinion, but whether she longed for his love was a question she did not have an answer for. All she knew at the moment was that she was not willing to wait any longer to continue the unraveling of the mystery that was Mr. Darcy. She rang for a maid, called for a bath, and prepared herself to emerge from her prison, with or without her doctor's approval.

Mr. Darcy had been in full agreement with Elizabeth's family and with Dr. Shelton that every precaution should be taken to ensure that her recovery not suffer any further setbacks. If that meant her being confined to her bed, and thus his being removed from her company, so be it. However, the longer the separation lasted, the more his resolve began to weaken. Obviously, his first concern was that Elizabeth be restored to full health. Nothing was more important. But he was restless, knowing how close she was but not being able to see her, to speak to her, to listen to her, to perhaps take her hand on some pretense or another.

Upon his first evening at home, he had been able to see glimpses of how magical and wonderful his life could be with her by his side. He had taken delight from every look, every gesture, every word, every smile; every one of a million tiny little things that had reaffirmed to him over and over again that she was the only woman in the world for him. He knew her convalescence was for her own good and therefore ultimately for his own good as well. But however much his logical, rational side could attempt to convince him, the part of him that already belonged to her, his heart, could not be so easily swayed. It served to show him how essential she truly was to him, that any separation from her had his heart crying out that something was not right.

He attempted to busy himself with catching up on estate business that had been neglected during his time in London, and he forced himself to concentrate during meetings with Mrs. Reynolds and his steward. But never did his thoughts stray far from her; never did he go for too long without continuing to form his plans for winning her affections. However, none of those plans could truly be carried out until he saw her again. And so, his frustration continued to mount with each passing hour spent out of her company, for it seemed as if every hope for future happiness in this life was on hold.

"I do thank God that she is alive and on her way to being well, again, but I cannot help but selfishly ask and pray for her recovery to move along more rapidly."

Lizzy came down the staircase into the foyer, still feeling slightly weak but feeling refreshed after completing her toilette. At that moment, a servant was at the open front door, accepting the day's post from the delivery man. Lizzy had no reason to expect anything for herself, so she was surprised when the servant turned to her after closing the door, and upon seeing her, called out,

"Oh, Miss Bennet, it is good to see you up and about. There is a letter here for you."

Lizzy walked forward to receive the letter from the servant's outstretched hand, and said, "Thank you. It is good to be up and about. Now, I wonder what this is all about?"

The servant merely bowed and exited the foyer to return to his other duties, and Lizzy moved into the nearby sitting room to sit and give her attention to her letter. Her curiosity was immediately peaked when she saw the name of the sender: Lydia Wickham. Lizzy knew that Lydia had never been much for correspondence, and it would have made sense that she would have even less inclination for writing in her newly married state. Lizzy suspected that her father somehow had a hand in forcing this letter from Lydia. Her suspicion was confirmed as soon as she broke the seal and began reading the missive.

Dear Lizzy,

Papa felt it necessary for me to write to you, even though he should know as I am sure you do that married women have so little time for writing. I was shocked to hear of your injury from our uncle when I was in London, but of course I could not write to you then because I was so caught up in the excitement and bustle for the plans of my wedding to my dear Wickham. I was disappointed that your injury prevented you from being able to be one of my bridesmaids, for in the end the only people present were our uncle and Mr. Darcy.

I must tell you I nearly died laughing when I heard that you were staying at his house in Derbyshire. It does not seem that you deserve such punishment for he is so stern and droll. You should have seen him in London; you would have thought he was attending a funeral instead of a wedding! I do not see why he should have been so out of humor, especially because it was all his doing. If he was so unhappy about the prospect of my wedding to my dear Wickham, he should not have argued so with my Uncle Gardiner and insisted on paying for everything. I do not think I was supposed to know about it, but I really could not help but overhear. And I suppose it does not matter now anyway, since the wedding has already taken place.

Mama is delighted with my husband, and I am sure all my sisters envy me, including you, for was he not a favorite of yours once? We should have all gone to Brighton, and then I could have found husbands for all of you. But soon my husband and I will be off to join his new regiment in the North, and I do not know if we will meet again anytime soon. So, do your best to tolerate Mr. Darcy until you can return home, and be sure to write to me since you will have nothing better to do as I shall.

I remain yours, etc.
Lydia Wickham

Lizzy was reeling, and she knew that it had nothing to do with her injury. The letter was typical Lydia, but the information it contained about Mr. Darcy was astounding. Lizzy knew that Mr. Darcy had a hand in bringing about her sister's marriage, but had he really paid for everything? It was an unbelievable possibility, and she knew she had to find out the whole truth of the situation at once. She already felt as though she and her family owed Mr. Darcy quite a debt for all his assistance in recent weeks, but this would be beyond imagining. Lizzy composed herself as best she could under the circumstances and rushed off to find her uncle. When she confronted him with Lydia's letter, she knew he would tell her the truth. Then, if it was really true, she would have time to try to find a way to express her gratitude to Mr. Darcy.

Mr. Gardiner let out a long sigh. He lamented silently about his younger niece's lack of discretion and tact, and even momentarily considered continuing to conceal the truth from Lizzy. But it was only for a moment. He could not do it. He could not lie to her, no matter what. He really had never wanted for her to find out about Mr. Darcy's complete role in Lydia's marriage, not only for how useless it made him feel but because he had come to care for the young man who was so obviously in love with his niece. If Mr. Darcy had felt it necessary to conceal the whole truth from her and from the rest of the family, then he had devoted himself to doing everything he could to make sure the secret stayed safe. But now, it was out, and there was nothing he could do except to be true to his nature and be honest.

"Elizabeth, sit down, my dear. I do not want you to distress yourself."

Lizzy was struggling to hang on to her patience, so she sat while at the same time pleading, "Please uncle, pray tell me if this is true. I must know."

"I will tell you everything, do not worry. From the moment we received word from your sister Jane at Longbourn that Lydia had run off with Wickham, Mr. Darcy took charge. He knew that your father would not wish to leave you in your condition, so he immediately stepped forward and insisted on accompanying me to London to search for them. He thought he might have a few leads from amongst Wickham's old acquaintances that could be of use to us in the search. He also told us the story of Wickham's infamous conduct towards his sister and that he felt responsible for Lydia's current situation because he had not revealed Wickham's character to the world."

Lizzy felt compelled to step in and defend him, for had she not also had similar thoughts herself? "He is not to blame, no more than I or Jane or anyone else deceived by Wickham. Others are culpable, not him."

Mr. Gardiner smiled slightly at his niece's defense of Mr. Darcy. He believed his wife was right, that she did not know her own feelings yet, but she was obviously able to see Darcy's good qualities.

He replied, "I may know this and you may know this, Lizzy, but Mr. Darcy can be almost as stubborn as you are. He would brook no opposition, and so we set off for London. When we discovered Lydia and Wickham at the boarding house where they were staying, I felt the need to discuss matters with Lydia alone, to try to persuade her to understand the seriousness of her situation, but it was all for naught."

"This left Mr. Darcy alone with Wickham. When Lydia and I returned to the room to get her things packed, Darcy informed me that the financial settlement had already been reached. This was the first I had heard of his intentions to bear the financial responsibility for bringing the marriage about, and I must say I was as astonished as you are. But once again, he assured me that argument was fruitless and would not pay heed to any of my advice that he was taking too much upon himself."

"So you see Lizzy, nothing was to be done that he did not do himself, and I was forced to put up with having the credit of everything instead of actually being able to be of use to Lydia. That is the whole history of how he came to be involved."

"How many other people know of this?" Lizzy asked.

Mr. Gardiner replied, "Only myself, your aunt, and apparently Lydia. He insisted on keeping it a secret, since he did not want any outpourings of gratitude for doing something he felt was his duty."

Lizzy understood somewhat of Mr. Darcy's feelings, but even though he did not want any outpourings of gratitude, he was going to get one from her anyway. It would take some time, though, because at this moment her gratitude was beyond expression. His generosity was beyond anything she had imagined even a few hours ago, and her family owed him a debt that they would never be able to repay.

The trouble, expense, and mortification he had endured to rescue her foolish younger sister was, in a word, amazing. And then the thought suddenly crept unbidden to the front of her mind:

"Did he do all this for me?"

The evidence was mounting that the love he had professed for her previously had endured her harsh treatment and unfair accusations in Hunsford. His ease and friendliness with herself and her family, his efforts to see to their comfort, and now his incredible effort on behalf of Lydia, all seemed to point to one thing…he still wants me!

But what man would ever want to propose marriage again to a woman who had already rejected him once? Lizzy caught herself on that thought and almost gasped out loud.

Do I want him to propose to me, again? Do I want to marry him? Do I love him?

Although her body felt strong, her mind was growing fatigued from all the questions swirling through it; and she excused herself quietly from her uncle's company and returned to her room. She needed to think, to try to sort out her feelings for this man whom she felt more and more bound to the more she learned about him. The answers to her questions about him were no longer just a curious mystery she was trying to solve. Indeed, she now had the feeling that the path her life would take was somehow bound up with the answers,

"I need to find them out…soon?!

Chapter 29

Posted on Monday, 30 October 2006

Lizzy left the Pemberley library with her volume of Shakespeare and entered the foyer. A night spent wrestling with her feelings for Mr. Darcy had not left much room for sleep, and so her step was not as light, her pace not as brisk as it would have been on a normal late summer day. She had seen Mr. Darcy for but a moment that morning, as he was on his way out to take care of some tenant business. He had graciously made his extensive library available to her, which had caused mixed emotions within her. Normally such an offer would have been received with complete joy, but it seemed that any act of kindness that came from Mr. Darcy was accompanied with a considerable amount of confusion as well. She was still having a difficult time interpreting his behavior, and her own reaction to it was just as puzzling.

Any turmoil that had existed before she had received her sister Lydia's letter had increased tenfold since reading it the day before. It seemed possible that he still wanted her, but how was that possible? And did she want him? Could her feelings have undergone such a dramatic turnaround? Lizzy could only sigh and shake her head. The same questions had been plaguing her for days on end, and it seemed that they became more insistent the more time she spent under the same roof with Mr. Darcy.

She couldn't even decide if seeing him would help her sort out her feelings. It was as if she longed to see him and feared it all at once. Lizzy was so lost in her thoughts that she almost collided head-on with Matilda, one of the Pemberley maids. After a slight gasp from each party, Elizabeth said, "Excuse me, Matilda. It seems as if my mind and my feet have separated from each other."

Matilda curtsied and quickly replied, "Oh no, Miss Elizabeth, it was my fault. I was actually coming to find you. If you please, ma'm, the post has just arrived, and there is a letter for you from Longbourn."

Lizzy replied, "Another letter? I will be going home soon as it is! I wonder what could possibly be so important." Realizing she was rambling to a servant, Elizabeth smiled and accepted the offered letter. Matilda curtsied again and hurried off to distribute the rest of the mail.

Elizabeth gave a passing glance down at the envelope, but looked again as wide smile appeared to light up her face. "Jane!" Finally, she had been wondering when she would hear from her dearest sister. Following the same path she had traveled just the day before with Lydia's letter, Elizabeth entered the adjacent sitting room to settle in with her latest report from home. She tore open the seal and read:

My dearest Lizzy,

I do not even know where to begin. It seems ages since we have been together, and what ages they have been! But now, my dear Lizzy, there are such sources of happiness as I had never even dared to hope for.

First, of course, is our utter relief and joy that you are regaining your health. I give thanks to God every day that you are still with us. You know that if I had not been needed here by our mother, I would have flown to your side in a heartbeat. You cannot imagine the despair when we first learned of your condition! We all felt it so deeply, our father most of all I believe. I have never seen anyone so shocked. But then, I could not control my own tears of joy when we learned of your return to consciousness and the doctor's pronouncing your head to be perfectly sound. I do not even care to think about what I would have done without you, my darling Lizzy.

As you know, Lydia and her husband will soon be concluding their visit with us and journeying on to join his new regiment in the North. Our mother seems vastly pleased with her new son-in-law, and I have hopes that it will be a happy marriage in spite of the way it was brought about. He cannot be so unworthy as we first thought, and since he agreed to marry her he must truly be in love with her I think.

But even our sister's present happiness can be nothing compared to my own! On the very day we learned of your recovery, and without any forewarning, Mr. Bingley returned to our part of the country. He sent the whole town into an uproar, coming back to occupy Netherfield well before the hunting season.

It seems he had learned of our family's distress from Mr. Darcy, who informed him of your accident and of the search for Lydia and Wickham. Mr. Bingley kindly traveled to Hertfordshire and offered his assistance in running the estate in our father's absence and granting a much-needed distraction to our mother. Under these circumstances, he visited here quite often.

Oh Lizzy, I can hardly believe my good fortune enough to actually write down on paper what he told me on one of those visits: he loves me, Lizzy! He loves me! He said he always loved me all the time, and he spoke to our father almost as soon as he and our aunt arrived. We are engaged! Can you believe it? How will I bear so much happiness? Could you believe that things would end in this happy way? I have to remind myself that it is real every day when he comes to our door.

But I must conclude, it seems that our mother has arranged a walk toward Meryton for Lydia and Wickham and Mr. Bingley and I. I will give you the whole of the history on that blessed day when we are reunited, dear sister. Until then, I pray that this news will lift your spirits and aid in your continued recovery.

I remain, yours lovingly etc.
Jane

Lizzy's joy bubbled over; she could not help herself. She clasped the letter to her heart and laughed and cried and thanked God that at last her sister's happiness had been secured. She brought the letter back down before her eyes, and scanned it again and again, cherishing the joy in her sister's tone when for so many months there had been only sadness at the loss of Mr. Bingley. And it seemed at the same time that Lizzy daily found another reason to be grateful to Mr. Darcy.

Lizzy had often worried at how overwhelmed Jane must have been with their father away from home and the horrible situation with Lydia. Lizzy could read between the lines of her sister's statements from years of experience, and she knew that Mr. Bingley's appearance in Hertfordshire at such a time and his subsequent proposal to Jane had everything to do with Mr. Darcy. He must have finally realized how much Jane and Bingley loved each other and how well suited they were together, and he gave his friend his blessing to travel to Hertfordshire to pursue Jane.

Lizzy could have formerly found some bitterness in her heart over the delay in her sister's happiness caused by Mr. Darcy's initial interference. But her heart could not find room for it. There was too much happiness. If anyone deserved to be happy and content for the rest of her days, it was Jane. As she had done so many times in the past, Lizzy chose to take her sister's letter and dwell on it for a while as she strolled around the grounds. She used to dwell on her sister's pain, but now she could dwell on her sister's joy. Her sister's pain had helped prejudice her mind against Mr. Darcy those many months ago in Kent. Now, her sister's joy would help bend her mind toward all the ways Mr. Darcy was becoming ever more gracious and charming and kind and pleasant. Everything a woman could want for a husband.

It had been so hard to keep his secret this morning when he had seen Elizabeth on his way out. Mr. Darcy sincerely hoped his friend was accurate and that Elizabeth would soon be able to share in the good news of Bingley and Jane's engagement. Darcy was fairly bursting with the desire to share his good information with Elizabeth, if only to see her eyes sparkle and her face light up with the joy he was sure she would feel.

Bingley's letter had arrived in yesterday's post, the promptness of it was amazing, considering that Bingley had never been much for correspondence. Darcy smiled slightly, for it seemed his friend had been especially eager to communicate his happiness. The handwriting had barely been legible as Bingley enthusiastically wrote of all of his beloved's angelic attributes, and Darcy had managed to decipher that even Mrs. Bennet would improve on closer acquaintance, he was sure.

Darcy would have scoffed at such a pronouncement months ago, but that almost seemed like another lifetime ago. Darcy knew now that if he could only have Elizabeth for his own, he would willingly put up with anything Mrs. Bennet could possibly dish out. Love did do amazing things to a person, Mr. Darcy marveled as he walked along beside his favorite horse back towards the house, his business finally concluded. He found himself scanning the landscape ahead of him, looking for any signs of a dress blowing in the breeze, a glowing head of dark curls, or a bright and rosy complexion.

Finally, he caught sight of her in the distance, and he allowed himself a moment to simply stop and drink in the life-restoring joy the very sight of her could pour into his heart. He did not know how he was ever going to let her leave. He had grown so used to having her in his home, in his life, as a daily presence that the thought of being separated from her again caused a revolt inside him. She looked to be scanning a piece of paper as she walked, and he hoped that it was the letter from her sister that Bingley had told him was on its way. He wanted to share her joy. He wanted to share everything with her. He quickened his step as he approached her, calling out, "Miss Bennet," hoping to halt her progress.

She seemed startled only for a moment, then lifted her head and gave him that smile that could fill his heart with tenderness and cause his mind to race with unspeakable lust all at the same time. She called to him as he approached, "Good day to you, Mr. Darcy! I trust your business concluded to your satisfaction?"

He could not mistake her happiness or her good information, even though she seemed nervous. He replied, "Yes, everything has been taken care of. I see you have received a letter today?"

Lizzy had been thrown into such a tumult upon seeing him again that she had almost forgotten completely about the piece of paper she held in her hand. It took her a moment to respond, but she quickly found her smile again when she thought of the contents of that letter. "Yes, it is from my sister, Jane."

Darcy wanted to bring the topic around to the news of Bingley and Jane's engagement, but he did not want to seem like he was prying. He gestured to her and they turned to walk side by side towards the house. He said, "I received a letter from Bingley yesterday."

Lizzy couldn't help but be a little disappointed. She had been looking forward to being the one to tell him the good news, but it would only make sense that Bingley would have wanted to share the news with his friend. There were so many things she wanted to say to him, but the only words that seemed able to push through her tumbled thoughts were two that seemed to capture so much. They were barely a whisper: "Thank you."

Of all the things he would have expected her to say at such a moment, that would not have been one of them. He stopped in his tracks, turned towards her, and said, "Thank you? For what?"

"Jane told me that you sent Bingley to help her while I was ill and while Lydia was missing. I do not know how you knew that she would need help, and I do not know why you would have willingly sent Bingley into my sister's company, but you did. And she is so happy. No one deserves it more than she does. So thank you." Lizzy cast her eyes down to the ground, somewhat embarrassed for being so blunt about such a sensitive topic. She found herself unable to meet his gaze, unsure of how he would respond.

Darcy felt that he had to respond with as much honesty as she had given him. She had every right to doubt his actions; his previous conduct and his efforts to separate Bingley and her sister would justly make her question his endeavor to bring them together. He responded quietly and thoughtfully, "Bingley expressed his happiness as well. And it has been a long time in coming -- too long."

There was regret in his tone -- regret for past mistakes, and a desire to make things right. She was finding that desire in his nature more and more these days, and he was rising in her estimation the more she saw of it. She sought to ease his self-recrimination by saying, "It is not important anymore how they ended up in their present happy situation. They have found each other at last, and everything is as it should be."

"Not everything," he thought to himself as they continued on towards the house. "Not everything, yet."

The curtains had been pulled back, and Lizzy gazed out upon another beautiful summer day at Pemberley. She had learned from the servants that Mr. Darcy had been called out onto the estate again on business, and she was getting ready to go downstairs to have breakfast with her uncle. Suddenly, she heard a great commotion out in the hallway, and it seemed to be coming in her direction. She stepped away from the window and turned to head toward the door to find out what all the fuss was about. The door opened, and at the same moment the imposing figure came into view, the harried Pemberley servant hurriedly announced,

"Lady Catherine de Bourgh."

Chapter 30

It was done with some difficulty, but Lizzy did manage to keep her mouth from dropping open when Lady Catherine appeared in the doorway. Mr. Darcy had given no indication that he had been expecting a visit from his aunt, and Lady Catherine did not live close enough to Pemberley to make this a "just dropping by" visit. No, she must have had some purpose for making the journey from Kent into Derbyshire, but Lizzy was not naive enough to believe that Lady Catherine had traveled all this way out of concern for her health.

Indeed, the look on Lady Catherine's face indicated that concern was the furthest thing from her mind. She attempted her coldest, most intimidating glare, looked down her long, pointed nose with disdain, and glided past where Elizabeth had frozen to seat herself in one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace. Neither woman had yet spoken, and the silence stretched out long and somewhat tense between them. Lizzy waited patiently for Lady Catherine to begin; she knew her well enough to know she would want to dictate the entire course of the conversation. Lady Catherine's eyes moved around the room, and she said, almost to herself,

"So, you are actually here. I had not believed it possible."

Elizabeth sensed that no response was required, so she simply inclined her head in agreement. Lady Catherine continued on in much the same manner, addressing the room in general,

"And in his rooms… Amazing!"

For a brief moment, Lizzy wondered if Lady Catherine had come to deliver some news of Charlotte, since her ladyship had sought Lizzy out directly. But she quickly dismissed the notion, thinking that Lady Catherine would not have traveled all this way for anyone's purposes other than her own. With more than a bit of sarcasm in her tone, Lady Catherine finally posed a question to Elizabeth directly, saying,

"You are no doubt aware by now, Miss Bennet, that the grounds of Pemberley are very fine. I should be glad to take a turn in them with you, if you would favor me with your company."

"Of course," Elizabeth replied, and she gathered her bonnet and accompanied Lady Catherine out of the room and down the stairs, neither of them speaking again until they had reached the topiary garden to the west of the main entrance.

On the way, Lizzy had noticed that Lady Catherine's carriage was still waiting near the front door, and that Anne, who had accompanied her on the trip, was waiting inside the spacious barouche. She must not be staying long, Lizzy thought to herself. What can she be about? But still Lizzy made no inquiries of her noble companion. She did not feel the need to make an effort for conversation with a woman who seemed more determined than usual to be insolent and disagreeable. She also wondered at herself, remembering that she had once considered Mr. Darcy and his aunt to be very similar. How wrong she had been! Once they reached the garden, Lady Catherine wasted no time, saying,

"You can be at no loss to understand the reason for my journey here, Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth could not have manufactured her astonishment; it was real. She replied, "Indeed, you are mistaken, madam. Unless you are here to pay a visit to your nephew, I am quite unable to account for the honor of seeing you here."

Lady Catherine was not convinced, and she shot back angrily, "Miss Bennet, you ought to know that I am not to be trifled with. But however insincere you choose to be, you will not find me so. A report of a most alarming nature reached me two days ago. I was told not only that your sister was to be most advantageously married but that you, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, would be soon afterwards united to my own nephew Mr. Darcy! Though I know it must be a scandalous falsehood, I instantly resolved on setting off for this place to make my sentiments known to you."

"If you believed it impossible to be true, I wonder you took the trouble of coming so far. What could your ladyship propose by it?" Elizabeth's color and anger were rising, and she was having difficulty keeping both in check.

Lady Catherine answered by saying, "At once to insist on having such a report universally contradicted."

Elizabeth kept her response cool, saying logically, "Your coming all this way to see me will be seen as a confirmation of it if indeed such a report exists."

"If! Do you, then, pretend to be ignorant of it? Has it not been industriously circulated by you? Do you not know that such a report is spread abroad?"

"I never heard that it was."

"And can you likewise declare that there is no foundation for it?"

"I do not pretend to possess equal frankness with your ladyship. You may ask questions, which I shall not choose to answer."

Elizabeth could tell, and knew from experience, that Lady Catherine was not used to having her commands tested in such a way. She was no doubt shocked that Lizzy did not instantly agree to her request, and she said as much.

"This is not to be born! Miss Bennet, I insist on being satisfied. Has my nephew made you an offer of marriage?"

"Your ladyship has declared it to be impossible."

"It ought to be so! But your arts and allurements may have caused him to forget what he owes to himself and all the family. You have even managed to work your way into staying under his roof with some pretense of illness. Through all this, you may have drawn him in."

"If I have, I shall be the last person to confess it." Lady Catherine must think her completely devoid of morals; that she would fake illness to gain an invitation to stay at Pemberley! Unbelievable! But if Lizzy held any hope that Lady Catherine was done insulting her, she was to be gravely disappointed. Lady Catherine continued:

"Miss Bennet, do you know who I am? I have not been accustomed to language such as this. I am almost the nearest relation he has, and I am entitled to know all his nearest concerns."

"But you are not entitled to know mine; nor will such behavior as this induce me to be explicit."

"Let me be rightly understood. This match to which you have the presumption to aspire can never take place. Mr. Darcy is engaged to my daughter. Now what have you to say?"

"Only this: that if he is so, you can have no reason to suppose he will make an offer to me."

This actually seemed to give Lady Catherine pause for a moment, and she seemed to feel it necessary to explain her pronouncement. "The engagement between them is of a peculiar kind. From their infancy they have been intended for each other. It was the favorite wish of his mother as well as hers! While they were in their cradles we planned the union. And now, at the moment when the wishes of both sisters would be accomplished in their marriage, to be prevented by a young woman of inferior birth, of no importance in the world, and wholly unallied to the family! Do you pay no regard to the wishes of his friends- to his tacit engagement with my daughter? Are you lost to every feeling of propriety and delicacy? Have you not heard me say that from his earliest hours he was destined for his cousin?"

Lizzy could not help but admit that she had; however, she still didn't think Lady Catherine was making much sense, just managing to be slightly logical and incredibly insulting. So she replied, "Yes, and I had heard it before. But what is that to me? If there is no other objection to my marrying your nephew, I shall certainly not be kept from it by knowing that his mother and his aunt wished him to marry Miss de Bourgh. You both did as much as you could in planning the marriage; its completion depended on others. If Mr. Darcy is neither by honor nor inclination confined to his cousin, why can he not make another choice? And if I am that choice, why may I not accept him?"

Elizabeth had to steady herself from the jolt of the rather shocking realization she had at that moment that she would do exactly that. If he ever asked her again to be his wife, she would accept with no hesitation. She had been pushed into it a bit, but her mind was finally catching up with what her heart already seemed to know: she loved him! The dawning of that light renewed her strength, for the test of this confrontation was not yet over.

Lady Catherine, indeed, seemed to have plenty of reasons why Lizzy should not accept him: "Because honor, decorum, prudence - nay -- interest, forbid it. You cannot expect to be noticed by his family or friends if you willfully act against the wishes of so many. Your alliance would be a disgrace. Your name would never even be mentioned by any of us."

"These would be heavy misfortunes, indeed. But the wife of Mr. Darcy must have such extraordinary sources of happiness necessarily attached to her situation that she could, on the whole, have no cause to repine."

Now that mind and heart were aligned, Elizabeth felt the truth and conviction of her words. She would be happy with him; she knew it! But Lizzy was still angry, shocked, and uncertain all at the same time; she did not know where Lady Catherine would take her attack next.

She tried again with the guilt card: "Obstinate, headstrong girl! I am ashamed of you! Is this your gratitude for my attentions to you last spring? Is nothing due to me on that score? I have not been in the habit of brooking disappointment."

"That will make your ladyship's situation at present more pitiable, but it will have no effect on me."

"I will not be interrupted! My daughter and my nephew are formed for each other. And what is to divide them? The upstart pretensions of a young woman without family, connections, or fortune? Is this to be endured? It shall not be! During your stay here, you must have seen how incapable and ill-formed you are to be mistress of Pemberley. If you were sensible of your own good you would not wish to quit the sphere in which you were brought up."

Elizabeth was quickly reaching the end of her patience. Her tone indicated as much when she replied, "Lady Catherine, in marrying your nephew I should not consider myself as quitting that sphere. He is a gentleman; I am a gentleman's daughter: so far we are equal."

"But who is your mother? Who are your uncles and aunts? Do not imagine me ignorant of their condition!"

"Whatever my connections may be, if your nephew does not object to them, they can be nothing to you."

Lady Catherine would go no longer without an answer, so she shouted, "Tell me once and for all, are you engaged to him?"

Elizabeth would not have answered merely for the sake of satisfying Lady Catherine, but she also had no wish to lie, so she simply replied, "I am not."

A look of profound relief swept over Lady Catherine's stern features. She needed only one more assurance to make herself feel perfectly satisfied. "And will you promise me never to enter into such an engagement?"

Elizabeth was ready for the conversation to come to an end, so she hoped to cut off any further comments from Lady Catherine when she said, "I will make no promise of the kind. I am not to be intimidated into anything so wholly unreasonable. Your ladyship wants Mr. Darcy to marry your daughter; but how would my giving you the wished-for promise make their marriage at all more probable? Supposing him to be attached to me, would my refusing to accept his hand make him wish to bestow it on his cousin? Allow me to say, Lady Catherine, that the arguments with which you have supported this extraordinary application have been as frivolous as the application was ill-judged. You have widely mistaken my character, if you think I can be worked on by such persuasions as these. How far your nephew might approve of your interference in his affairs I cannot tell; but you have certainly no right to concern yourself in mine. I must beg you not to importune me any further on this subject." And with that, she turned to walk away.

Lady Catherine was not done, though, and she followed behind, shaking her cane and saying, "Not so hasty, if you please! I have another objection; your youngest sister's infamous elopement. I know it all! Oh, is such a girl to be my nephew's sister-in-law? Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted?"

Elizabeth stopped, turned, and said, "You can have nothing further to say. You have insulted me and my family by every possible method. I must beg to return to the house." And she turned again to do just that.

Still, Lady Catherine continued on her diatribe: "You have no regard, then, for the honor and credit of my nephew? Unfeeling, selfish girl! You refuse to oblige me! You refuse to obey the claims of duty, honor, and gratitude. You are determined to ruin him, and make him the contempt of the world."

They had continued to walk, with Lizzy setting the pace and Lady Catherine following behind, until they reached the side of the carriage. Lizzy was ready to keep going straight into the house without stopping, but she wanted to let Lady Catherine know what she was determined to do. "I am only resolved to act in a manner which will constitute my own happiness, without reference to you, or to any other person so wholly unconnected with me."

"So this is your final resolve? Very well then, I shall know how to act." Lady Catherine shouted to the butler, who had come to open the front door when he saw the two ladies approaching. "You there, where is my nephew? I was told when I arrived that he is out on the estate. I want to know exactly where he has gone."

The butler gave her the information she required, then she gestured to one of the carriage masters that he should accompany them so that her driver would have precise directions. It was obvious to Lizzy what Lady Catherine's mission was. She should have known that Lady Catherine would not just sit still and wait for Mr. Darcy to return. In her ladyship's mind, her purpose was far too urgent; with Elizabeth's 'arts and allurements' continuing to be allowed to work on her nephew unchecked, there was not a moment to lose. This could not help but throw Lizzy's spirits into turmoil. How much influence would Lady Catherine wield with her nephew? Would Lady Catherine be successful in convincing Mr. Darcy of all the dangers of a possible alliance with her? Though not usually a doomsday prophet, Elizabeth could not help but run the worst-case scenario through her head.

And it took hold. Mr. Darcy would want her gone. Immediately. He would not want to displease his aunt any further by allowing her to stay another night under his roof. It tore at Elizabeth's soul. She had only just realized that she loved him, and now Lady Catherine's cruel interference would come between them.

Lady Catherine's voice cut through her thoughts to call out the last word (she just had to have the last word): "I take no leave of you, Miss Bennet. I send no compliments to your family, you deserve no such attention. I am most seriously displeased." She shouted up to her driver, "Drive on," and she was off to find Mr. Darcy.

Elizabeth knew what she had to do, and it had to be done quickly. She could not help but feel a little cowardly for wishing to avoid the confrontation with Mr. Darcy that she knew would come, but perhaps he would be grateful that she had spared both of them the trouble. She would not wait for him to throw her out of his house; she would leave voluntarily. She walked back into the house and into the breakfast room where her uncle was still waiting for her. Without any preamble, she announced,

"We must leave this place at once. I am going to go upstairs to begin packing." She raised her hand to hold off any reply he would make; she was not up to answering questions about her meeting with Lady Catherine.

So she pleaded, "Please, uncle. We have trespassed upon Mr. Darcy's hospitality long enough, and you know that I am fit enough to travel. I would like to be off before the day is out."

Though Mr. Gardiner did not know the reason, he could see his niece's distress and wanted to alleviate it any way he could. So he replied soothingly, "Of course, my dear, if you wish."

Mr. Gardiner had every intention of dragging his feet as much as possible. He not only felt uncomfortable with the idea of leaving without letting Mr. Darcy know first, he also knew that things had not yet been resolved between his niece and Mr. Darcy. So convinced was he of their love for each other, if he had to meddle, then so be it.

Lizzy knew none of her uncle's thoughts. She turned silently and left the room to begin packing with all haste. Her heart mourned as she walked; mourned the loss, she was now convinced, of the only man she could ever really be happy with to spend the rest of her life.

Last chapters, I had the magnificent Jane Austen to guide me. Now, I am left to construct this confrontation on my own. Bring it on! Here are the concluding chapters. ~erinmarie

Chapter 31

Posted on Wednesday, 1 November 2006

Mr. Darcy removed his handkerchief from his breast pocket and used it to wipe the sweat from his brow. The summer sun was particularly intense this day, and he was longing to discard his coat to allow the minimal breeze more access to his body. He was with his steward out on one of the more distant tenant plots on the estate, attempting to solve an irritatingly persistent problem with the water system. The tenant, an honest and simple man named Henderson, had attempted to come up with a solution on his own, but to no avail. He then consulted the steward, Mr. Bailey, but their two heads together had also not been able to design a solution. With Mr. Darcy's years of experience in running the Pemberley estate, they were hopeful on this day that their combined wisdom would succeed.

They would succeed, eventually, as soon as Mr. Darcy was able to fully focus on the problem at hand. It seemed to Mr. Henderson and Mr. Bailey that the master of Pemberley was a touch distracted. Both men were inclined to attribute the reason for his distraction to the debilitating heat of the day, but both men would have been surprised to know how wrong they were. As had become his habit in recent days, truly ever since he had lost his heart to Elizabeth Bennet, Darcy could not seem to shake the image of a pair of fine eyes he could drown in, a head of glorious dark curls he longed to run his fingers through, and a sharp wit and sense of humor he could listen to for eternity. Knowing she was just a short distance away made all the images and feelings more acute, and although Darcy could never be accused of neglecting his duty to Pemberley, he was not quite at his best at present. He knew that he could not be fully at his best until everything was finally resolved between himself and Elizabeth, until the curtain of uncertainty was finally lifted and he would know once and for all the secrets of her heart.

Darcy was observing while Bailey and Henderson were trying to put into action a solution they had all come up with a short time ago. Off in the distance, he saw the beginnings of a rising cloud of dust moving in his direction. Gradually, he began to hear the rumbling of carriage wheels from the same source. Darcy had arrived at the tenant farm on horseback with his steward, and he knew that the approach by carriage was not a smooth one for it was not frequently used. His curiosity, naturally, was piqued. He also could not help a twinge of alarm. What if it was Dr. Shelton coming to tell him that Elizabeth had suffered a setback in her recovery, some sort of relapse? He felt his chest constrict painfully at the very thought of it, but he tried to reassure himself that he had seen her up and well just the day before. Surely things could not have turned for the worse so quickly? Still, he could not be comfortable until he knew for sure that she was alright, so he began to make his way down the road with brisk, rapid strides.

As he and the carriage continued to approach each other, he could not help but notice that the carriage was very grand indeed. It also looked a bit familiar. When the driver saw that Mr. Darcy was coming to meet them on the road, he pulled on the reins to slow the horses to a more reasonable pace. Darcy recognized one of his own Pemberley servants on the perch next to the driver. He had obviously been recruited by the party in the carriage to give directions, but why? What the devil could have been so important that the person in the carriage could not have waited for him to return to the house? The obvious urgency of the visit worried him.

His worry jumped to a completely new level when the door of the carriage opened and his aunt alighted onto the road in front of him. Elizabeth's health was no longer his immediate concern; now, he rapidly started to file through the names of his family members, wondering if some sort of accident or illness had come upon them. Had his aunt been sent to tell him of some bad news about Colonel Fitzwilliam, or Georgianna? He braced himself, hoping against hope that he was wrong, that surely he had already endured his share of heartache for the year. This was certainly not a social call, however. As his aunt strode forward, she looked very agitated and terribly determined all at once. Darcy bowed to his aunt and began to greet her, saying, "Lady Catherine, what a pleasant --"

"Yes, yes, I know you are glad to see me, but there is no time for pleasantries now. I must speak with you at once," Lady Catherine cut in emphatically, not even allowing Darcy to finish his sentence.

"Of course, aunt. What is the matter?" Darcy's question was anxious; he did not want to wait to hear any bad news. If his aunt had come bearing bad tidings, he wanted her to come out with them at once.

He should not have been concerned about a delay. Lady Catherine had been saving up her diatribe ever since leaving Elizabeth at the house, and she launched in immediately.

"You must get those people out of your house at once, nephew. There are alarming reports circulating, and you truly must not allow them to stay another night, nay, even another hour might be too long."

"Those people? Whomever are you referring to?" Darcy asked, his confusion at this line of conversation evident on his face and in his voice.

"That obstinate girl Elizabeth Bennet and her common uncle are the people to whom I am referring, Darcy. I had to come to Pemberley at once when I heard the reports, and after speaking with that girl, the situation is worse than I originally thought. You must do something!"

Darcy's patience was being tested, and he was disturbed by the mention that his aunt had spoken to Elizabeth, but he was determined to calmly figure out what had his aunt so upset.

"What are these reports you have been hearing, and what do they have to do with Miss Bennet?"

"First, I heard two days ago that the eldest Miss Bennet was to be most advantageously married to your friend Mr. Bingley. While disturbing in its own right, this news was not the cause for my journey. Shortly after I confirmed the truth of their engagement, I heard further reports that Miss Elizabeth Bennet was also soon to be married."

Darcy felt his stomach turn and his heart lurch. He didn't want to ask, but he had to know. "To whom?"

"That is the most shocking news of all. She was supposedly engaged to you! Is that not the most outrageous thing you have ever heard? I knew it had to be a scandalous falsehood, so I set off for this place at once to confront Miss Bennet. I did not want to believe that she was actually staying at Pemberley; indeed, I truly would not have believed it until I saw it with my own eyes."
Darcy was beginning to understand the purpose behind his aunt's visit, and with his burgeoning understanding came a simmering anger. He tried to clamp down on it when he replied,

"You confronted Miss Bennet? What did you say to her?"

"I demanded that she contradict the report at once, of course. And do you know how she responded? She refused to oblige me! She put me off at every turn and blatantly refused to answer my questions. I had not thought her so ill-bred, but she really is a most obstinate, headstrong girl."

That anger was growing to a rolling boil, especially when his aunt insulted Elizabeth's breeding and character. He longed to snap back and rise to the defense of his beloved, but his curiosity about her response to the officious behavior of Lady Catherine temporarily won out and forced him to keep a lock on his temper. He already felt a sense of pride that Elizabeth had managed to stand against his aunt's interference. Not very many people had ever managed to refuse Lady Catherine anything, for it took a will as strong as her own to accomplish it.

"And when she refused to answer your questions, how did you respond?"

"I told her, naturally, that any match with you to which she had the presumption to aspire could never take place since you are engaged to Anne. I told her that if she interfered with your intended union with Anne, she would be despised and scorned by all the family and all our friends in society. She didn't seem to care a bit! In fact she had the audacity to say that 'the wife of Mr. Darcy must have such extraordinary sources of happiness necessarily attached to her situation that she could, upon the whole, have no cause to repine.' Can you imagine? She defended her connections, claiming to be your equal in station since she is a gentleman's daughter. I reminded her of her other low connections, but she said that as long as you didn't object to them that it shouldn't matter. I have never been so shocked and offended in all my days."

Darcy didn't know if he had ever experienced such a mix of emotions in all his days. His aunt's words sent him on a ride, flowing between anger, indignation, pride in Elizabeth, and the most surprising of all: hope. Hope had planted itself anew in his heart on hearing Elizabeth's words to Lady Catherine.

There were 'extraordinary sources of happiness' waiting for the woman who would be his wife? Did she really feel that way? She seemed to have been willing to step forward and fight against any outside objections to a union between them. Could it truly be that she no longer thinks of m as the last man in the world she could ever marry? It certainly seemed that her opinion has undergone a radical shift?"

But Darcy sensed that his aunt wasn't finished, and he was nearly jumping out of his skin to hear the rest of what his beloved had said.

She indeed was not finished, and she continued, "But the worst was yet to come! Finally, I asked her straight out if she was engaged to you. She gave me the first clear answer I could get and told me she was not. I was so relieved! But then, I asked her to give a simple promise that she would never enter into an engagement with you, and she refused!"

"She did?" Darcy couldn't believe his aunt had asked such a question, and he was equally disbelieving of Elizabeth's answer. She would not make a promise not to marry him. The new seed of hope was being watered and nourished with each new report from Lady Catherine, and it was sprouting rapidly now.

"Yes, she said she would make no promise of the kind. I then had to bring up the recent elopement of her youngest sister, trying to convince her how disgraceful it would be for such a girl to be related to you. I should have known that my arguments would have fallen on deaf ears. I asked if she was resolved to ruin you, and she said that she was only resolved to act in a manner that would constitute her own happiness. I am most seriously displeased, and I am concerned about her staying in the same house with you. She is, I am certain, trying to trap you into an engagement. You should be worried about having her so close to you. She would no doubt use any method, any arts or allurements to draw you into her web. It is imperative that she return to her own family at once; that is why I could not wait at the house for your return. I had to find you immediately to warn you to resolve this situation at once. There is no room for delay."

Does she now really think marrying me will constitute her happiness?

For Darcy, hope was sprouting now, growing strong and vibrant inside him. Elizabeth's emphatic defense of the possibility of a connection with him broke through his uncertainty like a beam of sunlight through an overcast sky. Darcy almost smiled at the irony in his aunt's last comments. He found his first point of agreement with her, and let her know it, saying, "Of course you are right, Lady Catherine. I agree that a resolution must be found immediately. I will not put it off any longer than it will take me to return to the house."

Lady Catherine's relief was evident, and she wanted to speed his return to the house. "Would you like us to drop you off there in the carriage? It will give you the chance to converse for a few minutes with Anne, maybe even discuss plans for when we can announce your engagement. I am sorry I cannot stay to help you, but I promised Lord and Lady Kensington that I would dine with them on the morrow. I must start back towards London with all haste, but we could delay for a few minutes to see you delivered back to the house."

Darcy was more than happy to be able to refuse this invitation. Not only did he have no intention of discussing any engagement with Anne, now or at any time in the future, but he was also able to use the excuse that he had his own transportation.

"No, you should be on your way. I will get back faster if I ride my horse than if I go in the carriage with you, and it will take you out of the way of the main road. And since time is of the essence, any delay is to be avoided."

I need to get back to Elizabeth as soon as possible. I must know whether this hope is false, or whether I am on the brink of having all my dearest wishes fulfilled.

His aunt would have had a heart attack if she had known the course of his thoughts, but he had much practice in keeping them safely hidden behind a calm facade.

He bid Lady Catherine goodbye, strode back to where his horse was tethered in front of Henderson's house, and explained to his steward that he needed to return to the main house immediately. He played Elizabeth's remarks over and over again in his mind as he rode, but was almost jolted from his saddle as a stunning realization confronted him:

Elizabeth is probably just as unsure of my true feelings for herself as I was of hers. This confrontation with Lady Catherine might have fed her worries and doubts. Even though Elizabeth had stayed strong in Lady Catherine's presence, I wonder how she is feeling now? Has she taken any of Lady Catherine's offensive comments to heart? Is she worried that she may be disgracing me by being in my house? Or worse, yet -- does she believe I would take my aunt's advice seriously?"

Darcy could not put everything together in his head with such tumultuous thoughts, but he just knew in his gut that he had to get to her -- Now!

He kicked his heels into his horse's sides, urging it on towards the limits of its endurance. His heartbeats counted off the time, something of which he felt was rapidly running out. The time for his hopes to finally be realized was now!

Do not let me be too late!

Chapter 32 - Finale

Mr. Darcy almost injured himself upon his return to the house. He broke one of the cardinal rules of horsemanship: never try to dismount from a horse that is still in rapid motion. He did manage to get his feet on the ground without breaking his neck, but it was a very close thing. He threw the reins to the stable boy without even glancing in that direction, his entire being focused on getting into the house. However, he could not help but admit to himself that he was more than a little frightened about what he would find when he got there. Almost nauseated with worry that she would already be gone, he was overjoyed to see Mrs. Reynolds coming towards him when he entered the house. He also noticed that the rest of the servants were rushing about in something of an uproar, a rare sight for Pemberley, which was usually a beacon of decorum. Darcy knew from experience, though, that anything was possible when Lady Catherine was about.

"Mrs. Reynolds," he called out somewhat breathlessly, "what is all the fuss about? What is going on?"

He was almost afraid to ask the question, afraid of the answer, but it would determine his next course of action. If she was already gone, he would have to go after her. If she was still at Pemberley, he would have to figure out what to say to her.

Mrs. Reynolds seemed surprised to see him back at the house so soon. As usual, she was more than prepared to give him a report of the happenings at the main house while he had been out on the estate, which was one reason among many why Mr. Darcy valued her service so much. She would give the unvarnished truth without fuss or overt ceremony.
"Did you know that Lady Catherine de Bourgh was here, sir? She took a stroll on the grounds with Miss Elizabeth, but then left very abruptly. It was all very strange. Miss Elizabeth was very upset when she returned and insisted that she and her uncle must leave as soon as possible. The servants have all set to the packing of their belongings, but apparently Mr. Gardiner is having a hard time finding his favorite hat. Everything else is set for their departure, but Mr. Gardiner insists that he cannot leave without his hat."

"Mrs. Reynolds, will you please tell Miss Bennet that I would like to see her in my study as soon as possible? I have some things to settle with her before she departs."

Mr. Darcy tried to speak these words with a calm he was far from feeling. As Mrs. Reynolds curtsied and left him, he turned to walk towards his study to wait for the woman he loved.

Elizabeth was ready to tear the guest room apart to find her uncle's hat, so anxious was she to be gone before Mr. Darcy returned to the house. She had never considered herself a coward. Indeed, the way she was able to hold her own in her recent confrontation with Lady Catherine was a mark of the courage in her character. She was not one to back away from anything, and somewhere within herself she knew her current behavior to be somewhat irrational. Deep down, she was afraid. She was afraid of what she was feeling for Mr. Darcy, afraid of how he would react to Lady Catherine's report, and afraid she would never quite be the same again if he rejected her. It would not be easy to walk away. But in her current jumbled state of mind and emotions, she believed it would be easier to walk away than to face him and see the disapproval and coldness in his face.

At the moment, she was frustrated because her uncle, while expressing the importance of his favorite hat to anyone who would listen, did not seem to be investing an incredible amount of effort in looking for it. Mr. Gardiner knew his niece was in distress, and he was sorry to be contributing to it. But he could not help but smile a bit whenever her back was turned. He was enjoying his turn at acting and knew that his wife would be proud of him when he told her the story. All he had to do was stall until Mr. Darcy returned to the house; then, he had to trust that the man who was in love with his niece would not let her walk away until he told her so. Then, he would conveniently remember that he hadn't brought his favorite hat with him on this trip; it was safe in his house in Gracechurch Street. He smiled again; he couldn't help it.

Elizabeth turned around at that very moment and caught her uncle in a grin that could only be described as boyish and somewhat naughty. "What are you smiling about? Aren't you frustrated that you can't find your hat? And why aren't you searching harder? We need to find it so we can get out of here!"

"I'm sorry my dear, I got caught up in thinking about one of my fondest memories of my hat. Of course I want to find it. Perhaps I threw it under this chair?"

"Uncle, you already looked under that chair five minutes ago. Can we not just let the staff continue looking? They can send it express to you in Gracechurch Street as soon as they find it."

"No, my dear. I know how much you want to be gone, but I insist on finding my hat before we depart. It should just be a few more minutes."

"You said that nearly an hour ago!"

Mr. Gardiner could tell that Lizzy was nearing her wits end, which was why he was very glad to be interrupted by a knock on the door. He called out, "Come in," and Mrs. Reynolds entered the room.

"Begging your pardon, but Mr. Darcy has returned and would like to speak to Miss Elizabeth in the study as soon as possible."

Lizzy's voice was strangled when she replied, "Did he say what he needed to speak to me about?"

"He only said he had some things to settle with you before your departure, ma'am."

Lizzy nodded, resigned to her fate. She followed Mrs. Reynolds out of the room, and Mr. Gardiner was finally relieved and able to smile as widely as he wanted.

Mr. Darcy was seated behind the wide mahogany desk in his study as he waited for Elizabeth's arrival. He knew it might look slightly intimidating when she entered, but for some reason he felt the need to put the large barrier between them. Otherwise, he might do something impulsive to settle the situation, like kissing her passionately the moment she walked in the door. While he felt that impulse every time he saw her, his emotions were running so high and in so many directions at that moment that he just did not know if he could control himself. Thus, his seating position in the room was not an effort to intimidate, but it was an attempt at self-control.

He heard her coming, heard the doorknob turn, and everything he had been planning to say took the shortest route out of his head. He was floored by her, as usual, but there was nothing usual about all this. The full weight of the situation had not descended upon him until she was in his presence. The rest of his life was about to be determined. Their eyes locked, and held, and neither one of them could find a way to start the conversation.

Suddenly feeling suffocated by the confines of a room that usually brought him great comfort, he managed to say, "Would you care to take a turn around the grounds with me, Miss Bennet? It has turned into a very fine day."

Lizzy was still a little breathless from the way he had looked at her when she entered the room, but she was quickly brought back to reality by his question. Of course.

He does not want any of the servants to overhear when he throws me out of his house, she thought to herself sadly. She lowered her eyes and replied quietly, "Certainly, Mr. Darcy."

He led her out of the study, into the foyer, and out through the doors onto the grounds. Neither one of them spoke; there seemed to be too much to say for words. Mr. Darcy kept letting his eyes wander towards her as they walked side by side, but they would dart away whenever she turned in his direction. Each was wondering what the other was thinking, and neither at the moment could have guessed if they had tried.

Elizabeth finally realized that this was going to be the last time she saw him, so she had to seize the opportunity given to her. She had never thanked him for all he had done for her, for Lydia, for her family. The timing may be awkward, but it was her last chance. Now was the moment when she had to act, so while her courage was high, she immediately said:

"Mr. Darcy, before you throw me out of your house, I must thank you for all your kindness to my poor sister and to the rest of my family. I know the part you played in the marriage and the financial settlement, and ever since I have known of it, I have been most anxious to acknowledge to you how gratefully I feel it. Your hospitality to me and my family during my illness has been nothing short of extraordinary, and I am sure if all the rest of the circumstances were known to them, I should not have merely my own gratitude to express."

Mr. Darcy had been so startled when she spoke that he had not heard her comment about being thrown out. He was equally surprised at the topic she had chosen to address, but he did not know that she considered this conversation to be their last. So, he only responded to her gratitude, which he had so strenuously tried to avoid, by replying,

"I am sorry, exceedingly sorry, that you have ever been informed of what may, in a mistaken light, have given you uneasiness. I did not think the Gardiners were so little to be trusted?"

"Oh no, you must not blame my uncle for telling me. Lydia's thoughtlessness first betrayed to me how deeply you had been involved in the matter; and of course, I could not rest till I knew the particulars. Let me thank you again and again, in the name of all my family, for that generous compassion which induced you to take so much trouble and bear so many mortifications, for the sake of discovering them and bringing the marriage about."

"If you will thank me, let it be for yourself alone. That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny. But your family owes me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe I thought only of you."

Elizabeth was much too embarrassed to say a word, and Mr. Darcy had finally come to the point where he was ready to take the plunge. After a short pause, he added,

"You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were in April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged; but one word from you will silence me on this subject forever."

Elizabeth, feeling all the more than common awkwardness and anxiety of his situation, now forced herself to speak,

"Oh, my feelings - my feelings are… I am ashamed to remember what I had said to you then - my feelings are so different! In fact, they are quite the opposite!"
Immediately, though not very fluently, she gave Darcy to understand that her sentiments had undergone so material a change since the period to which he alluded, as to make her receive with gratitude and pleasure his present assurances. Elizabeth truly could not believe her good fortune; that this man whom she had come to feel so much for would still be willing to marry her after all the things she had said to him and all the things his aunt had undoubtedly told him. She could not prevent the smile that burst forth across her face as brightly as the summer sun.

The happiness which her reply produced was such as Mr. Darcy had probably never felt before, and he expressed himself on the occasion as sensibly and as warmly as a man violently in love can be supposed to do. Had Elizabeth been able to encounter his eyes, she might have seen how well the expression of heartfelt delight diffused over his face became him; but, though she could not look, she could listen, and he told her of feelings which, in proving of what importance she was to him, made his affection every moment more valuable.

They walked on, without knowing in what direction. There was too much to be thought, and felt, and said, for attention to any other objects. She soon learnt that they were indebted for their present good understanding to the efforts of his aunt. The results of those efforts were exactly contrary-wise to one she had intended.

"It taught me to hope," said he, "as I had scarcely ever allowed myself to hope before. I knew enough of your disposition to know that had you absolutely decided against me you would have acknowledged it openly."

Elizabeth colored and laughed as she replied, "Yes, you know enough of my frankness to believe me capable of that. After abusing you so abominably to your face, I could have no scruple in abusing you to all your relations."

"What did you say of me that I did not deserve? My behavior to you at the time was unpardonable. I can hardly think of it without abhorrence. Your reproof I shall never forget: 'Had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.' You know not how those words have tortured me."

"I had not the smallest idea of their ever being taken in such a way."

"I can easily believe it. You thought me devoid of every proper feeling, I am sure you did. The turn of your countenance I shall never forget, when you said that I could not have addressed you in any possible way that would induce you to accept me."

"Oh! Do not repeat what I said then."

"I have been a selfish being all my life. As a child I was given good principles but was left to follow them in pride and conceit. And such I might still have been but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth!"

They continued on in this way, sharing small pieces of their feelings and thoughts, revealing more of themselves, happy in the knowledge that it would now be the process of a lifetime. Soon, however, they realized that they had been gone from the house for far too long. Mr. Gardiner would be the first to hear the unexpected (but not to him) news of the engagement of Fitzwilliam Darcy to Elizabeth Bennet.

Epilogue

In later years, family members (with the exclusion of Lady Catherine, who never quite got over being disobeyed) would take delight in the story of the circumstances that brought Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy together. Even though it took a series of misunderstandings, prejudices, a near-fatal accident, an elopement, meddling relatives, and a missing hat that was never actually missing; the happiness that resulted from the union more than made up for the long and sometimes painful path that led them to it.

Mr. Gardiner was forgiven almost immediately for his interference by both Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. On the occasion of their marriage, they presented him with a token of their appreciation for the small but valuable charade that allowed them to finally resolve matters between them. It was a brand-new hat.

The End

© 2006 Copyright held by the author.

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