Her Eyes So Fine

By Sandyliz

Jump to new as of June 28, 2000
Jump to new as of July 2, 2000
Jump to new as of July 6, 2000

Chapter 1

Posted on Thursday, 23 March 2000, at 4 : 02 p.m.

The moon was high in the sky and bathed the peaceful English country with her sweet, white light. Her reflection could be seen on the high windows of Netherfield Park. The big house seemed to be as quiet as its surroundings, however one of its occupants could not share this quietness.

Fitzwilliam Darcy tossed and tossed again in the big canopy bed. He always had difficulties falling asleep in a strange bed (a fancy he had since childhood) but his present agitation was by no means related to that. Even with his eyes tightly shut he could see them. They haunted him without respite. Never mind how hard he tried to escape them they were always there. Those burning eyes.

"What does she have to trouble me so!" he thought with rage. "She is a country nobody, disrespectful, her manners are not those of the world. But the way she smiled, her beautiful sparkling eyes ..." They had cast a spell upon him. Darcy stopped his tossing and lay on his back, staring at the canopy.

"I am mesmerized by Elizabeth Bennet," he said out loud.

He laid for some time in that fashion, meditating on that phrase. "Of course it is a simple physical attraction...it will be gone shortly. With such a family there is no danger for me..."

He sighed and shut his eyes. He pictured Elizabeth in his mind, her head slightly inclined on the left, her eyes sparkling, she had a teasing smile playing on her lips...

"How sweet they must taste," he thought. On realizing what he had just been thinking he rose quickly and sprinkled his face with cold water to chase away such inconvenient thoughts.

The room was cold for the fire had died, but Darcy didn't feel it; on the contrary, he was very hot. He headed towards the window and opened it widely. He lay against the frame and peered outside, allowing the cool air of the night to calm his feverish mind.

Pronouncing her name had created the most troubling thoughts and he was not sure that he would be able to control them, she was provoking such new sensations in him.

He saw her such as she had been some hours before at Sir William's, when she had politely refused to dance with him with that twinkle in her eyes. He had not understood the meaning of that look. He had not even tried to, mesmerized as he was by its beautiful owner. All that he had been able to do was stare at her as she made her way to a group of officers, captivated by a rebellious dark curl which was provokingly bouncing at the back of her neck.

He had to repress the sudden desire to go after her and beg her to dance with him. He had been smiling at the thought; the scene would have been comical indeed! Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley begging a simple country girl to dance with him! He could almost see Caroline Bingley fainting with horror and despair!

It was at that moment that this very lady had chosen to approach him. He had recognized the rustling noise of her costly gown overloaded with jewelry, her dress was orange, a favourite colour of hers, it seemed. He had been eager to get rid of Miss Bingley to resume his contemplation of Miss Elizabeth and he had set her down with a comment on that lady's fine eyes.

As she left, he had begun to regret his remark for he was sure that she would tease him about it in the future. He usually didn't pay attention to her "witticisms" for they usually did not touch him.

But this time it was different, he was not unconcerned with Elizabeth. He experienced a most strange feeling as he was watched her, talking and smiling with an officer. He had felt a little pain in his chest and all he knew was that he wanted to be that officer, he wanted her to address him with such a smile.

He sighed imagining all the remarks he would have to bear because of his own imprudence. "How could Charles and Caroline be brother and sister?" he wondered for the thousandth time since he had made Bingley's acquaintance at Cambridge.

He allowed his gaze to wander about the sleeping country and his thoughts came back to the lovely brunette with sparkling eyes.

He pictured her dancing in the moonlight on the top of the hill, her hair untied and floating in the breeze. She was whirling and laughing, her arms widely opened. She stopped suddenly and held out her hands to him, she was smiling. He saw her lips whisper "Fitzwilliam..."

Darcy quickly turned away and banged the window closed. He also closed the curtains to hide that vision.

He lay against the wall for some time, slowly regaining control of his mind. He was furious of having letting his thoughts go wandering about.

"I'd better go to bed and try to get some sleep. Bingley is expecting me early for our ride tomorrow morning," he muttered.

And he did as he had said.

Chapter 2, Part A ~ The Morning Ride

Posted on Saturday, 25 March 2000, at 4 : 25 a.m.

Darcy made his way to the dining room where Charles was expecting him for an early breakfast. He found Bingley deep in thoughts, which was very unlike him. (As for Darcy, something about Hertfordshire society must account for his own behaviour!)

He recollected himself upon seeing his friend arrive and became again the cheerful Bingley we all know. "Well, it seems that someone had a bad time last night!" he exclaimed. "Come man, have a little breakfast, it will do you good; upon my honour, you look like a ghost !"

Darcy (who, as we all know, had a very bad time last night, indeed) glared at him and sat down without a word.

"Oh, bad mood I see!" Bingley continued, not in the least discouraged by his friend's manner. He went on, chatting about the weather, the arrangements he was planing for his estate and all the little nothings one says to fill the silence when one has a very unsociable or a very bad humoured person next to him.

Darcy poured himself a cup of tea and absentmindedly took a sip of it, gazing at the window, a dreamy expression on his face.

Finally, Bingley stopped his chatting and looked at his friend for a moment. He rose from the table and said in a faint angry tone: "Very well, Darcy. I am going to the stable to talk to my horse. He, at least, will listen to me when I speak. Meet me there when you choose". He headed to the door and opened it. Before leaving, he cast another look at the dreaming man: "I wouldn't take too much time if I were you. Yesterday, I told Caroline that we were to ride early this morning. No doubt she will be here at any moment," he finished with a wink before closing the door.

Darcy was still immobile, continuing to look around vaguely. He hadn't heard a word of Bingley's speech, except for Caroline's name. It was sufficient to make him come back to reality with a start, driving away all thoughts of fine eyes and teasing smiles. He picked up an apple from the table and put it in his pocket before hurrying after Bingley. He quickly grabbed the riding gear that his valet offered him and undertook to put on his coat while running towards the door. He caught up with Bingley on the steps.

"Pleased, forgive my behaviour, Bingley, I was troubled with a business matter that has taken a bad turn," he managed to say, still trying to put on his coat.

Bingley gave him a sceptical look before answering: "Oh! don't think about it, it is already forgotten and forgiven. Come now, a good ride will cheer you up!"

A boy was waiting with the horses. Upon seeing his master, the great black one pranced with impatience, giving much trouble to the poor stable boy. Darcy walked straight to the animal and took the reins from the frightened boy.

"Hush, my old Nelson, I know you are as impatient as I am to have a little exercise. Just calm down and we will be off soon." The horse listened to the well-known voice, ears moving in attention. When he saw his master taking the apple from his pocket, he snorted, vapor escaping from his nostrils condensing in the chill morning air. He took the treat avidly. Darcy patted him and mounted. He turned to Bingley and asked: "So, where are we going today?"

"Nowhere in particular," answered Bingley mounting his own horse. "Maybe we should just wander about the country and have a good race. I think it is what we both need."

They set off and soon found themselves racing across the fields as the sun began to shine beams all over the country. Darcy pushed his horse faster, letting the wind whip his face and clear his mind of all his disturbing thoughts. He was oblivious to all but the wonderful sensations the race created in him.

Eventually they came back, exhausted but content. The sun was now high in the sky. They had been gone all morning.

Chapter 2, Part B ~ The Lunch

After a bath and a change of clothes, Darcy joined the others for lunch. He met Caroline at the bottom of the staircase. She gripped his arms possessively and drug him to the dining room while whining plaintively. "Mr. Darcy, I have been quite desolate without you! You and Charles have been gone all morning and I was left to fend for myself for at least two hours. The Hursts always sleep late in the morning and you know how much I hate solitude!"

Darcy pictured Caroline standing alone in the hall, crying her distress to the walls like a heroine from a Shakespearean drama, dressed in her favourite orange gown. He repressed a smile and was exempted from responding to her as Charles joined them, looking quite contented from their ride.

The Hursts were already waiting at the door and everyone walked into the room and took a seat.

At the end of a rather silent meal, Bingley cleared his throat and proposed a hunt for the afternoon.

Darcy watched Hurst having his seventh glass of wine. He was not pleased with Charles' idea and, remembering their last hunt, almost feared for his life. Hurst had been terribly drunk and had nearly shot at his dog. Luckily for the poor animal, a nearby tree had received the shot.

The sky was grey now, due to the disappearance of the sun an hour ago. Darcy was about to make an excuse of the unsteady weather when Hurst lifted his nose from his plate: "Can you not defer it, brother? I have business to attend to this afternoon and I don't want to miss a good hunt."

Everyone looked at him in wonder. Hurst? Something to do?

That gentleman continued his speech, addressing himself to everyone but looking anew at his plate: "I discovered a very interesting recipe at Sir William's yesterday. Upon my honour, the man served the most wonderful ragoűt I have ever tasted! Surely you understand that I must communicate such a recipe to my good friend, Barmley. you know he is as fond of a good ragoűt as I am. I must write him as soon as I finish my meal."

The room was silent. Never had they heard Hurst talk so much in one day and with such animation (if we may call it animation!)

The hunt was canceled and postponed to another day, to Darcy's great relief.

Miss Bingley was enchanted with the prospect of keeping Mr. Darcy's company for the rest of the day. "What a good idea Charles!" she cried. "We will spend the afternoon together in the music room. Louisa and I will be very glad to entertain you with some music. Won't that be so Louisa?"

"Of course dear," answered Mrs. Hurst who was always glad to help her sister in her scheme to secure Mr. Darcy.

Darcy had no intention of spending the afternoon in such a way. He pretending to have a letter to write and left quickly for his chamber.

His departure left the four people remaining in the room with four different feelings. Miss Bingley was disappointed, Mrs Hurst was sorry for her sister, Bingley hadn't paid attention to Darcy's departure and was daydreaming about Jane Bennet, and Mr. Hurst was deep in concentration over his pudding plate.

Chapter 3

Posted on Tuesday, 28 March 2000, at 12 : 47 p.m.

Author's note: a great thank you to JessLee for her help with grammar and orthography.

Darcy went directly up to his room. He removed his vest and his waistcoat before going to lie on the bed, his hands behind his head. He sighed; it would be a long afternoon. The weather had turned worse and a heavy rain was now lashing against the windowpanes; so a walk or a ride were not imaginable.

Remembering the excuse he had used to leave the others, he decided to write a letter to his sister Georgiana. She was not herself since the Ramsgate incident and he was very worried for her. He rose and went to his writing desk to get her last letter. He could feel her distress and her uneasiness by just reading her words. He cursed Wickham (as he always did when he could feel his sister's sorrow) and had that fellow been presently in the room, he would not have been able to contain his anger. He knew he would have done something rash.

As the room was quite dark, he lit a candle on the desk. He then sat down and took a sheet of paper, preparing himself to respond Georgie's letter. He would try to cheer her up. Maybe he could tell her about Hertfordshire society, he murmured, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes.

As last night, her image was immediately before him, smiling, her eyes full of that passion for life; he could even hear her laughter.

Outside, the rain was still falling. The monotonous sounds of its beatings against the windows made him sink deeper in his reverie. He saw her again at Lucas Lodge, in her beautiful, though simple gown. But this time, when Sir William tried to make them dance together, she accepted him with a wonderful smile. When he reached to take her little and delicate hand in his own, he experienced a most agreeable feeling as their skins made contact. He felt little tingles in his hand and then all over his arm. He saw her shiver with delight and look at him with adoration. They would not join the others for the dance, the room was more and more imprecise, all was confused, until it became black. It was just the two of them now, the rest of the world had disappeared. He lifted his free hand and gently stroked her cheek. She was so soft under his fingers. He then followed the sweet line of her jaw before descending to her neck. His fingers were not obeying him anymore and were having their own way, he was completely bewitched. She was looking at him with passion in her beautiful eyes and he could contain himself no longer. He pulled her closer and pressed her tightly in his arms. Her adorable face was only inches from his own. He could see distinctly her little birthmark at the corner of her mouth. His eyes were now focused on this mouth, never had he seen such beautiful red lips; he was eager to experience their softness and their passion. He leaned down and she closed her eyes, waiting for him...

A thunderclap awoke Darcy with a start. He was trembling and wet with sweat. The dream had been so real. He rose and unsteadily reached the bowl of water. He took a cloth and damped it in the cold water before passing it all over his face. He was breathing hard. "If it continues so, I soon won't be able to do without that bowl," he muttered. "God! It will become an obsession! And I hardly know her! In fact, the little I knew of her should have driven me away!" He then undertook enumerating the "little he knew". "She has no money, no connections, her family is common and vulgar, well, maybe save her elder sister and perhaps her father. But this is hardly a compensation for all the other defects! And the lady herself is so...so..." He searched for a proper word to qualify Elizabeth's behaviour but all he could think of was her light pleasing figure, her wonderful curly dark hair, her enchanting laughter, her beautiful eyes...

"It is happening again!" he cried, his head between his hands, pressing it as to make her image come out of it. "Get out of my mind ! " he shouted.

There was a great clap of thunder as he shouted this last sentence. "Luckily, nobody heard me," he thought. He was standing in the dark room, his eyes focusing on nothing in particular, but his mind in great agitation. Lightning illuminated the room at regular intervals.

Darcy had a terrible headache; he managed to reach his bed and collapsed on it, his eyes closed and his forehead wrinkled in pain. Finally, he fell into a restless sleep, surrounded by the sound of the thunder. He moaned and tossed in his sleep, creasing his sheets and his clothes. However, he calmed down in proportion with the storm, which was moving away.

When he awoke three hours later, the storm was gone, as well as his headache. He sat in his bed and looked at his attire. It was such a mess that he groaned. "Well, we'll have to change this," he said, getting up.

Not wanting to be seen, even by his valet, in such a state, he decided he will dress himself and headed to his dressing room.

A quarter of hour later, he looked at his reflection in the mirror and considered himself ready to enter the civilised world again.

However, upon entering his bedchamber again, he changed his mind when he saw the white sheet of paper on his desk. He was feeling well enough now to write his letter, and besides, Georgiana shouldn't pay for his incapacity in controlling his thoughts. He sat down, took a good breath and began his letter, his mind resolutely focused on his present task.

Half an hour later, he was contemplating the now sealed letter rested on the desk. He rang his valet and gave him the precious item.

After two more minutes spent gazing at the window, he turned away and headed to the door, ready to join the others.

Chapter 4a

Posted on Tuesday, 4 April 2000, at 10 : 27 a.m.

November had succeeded to October, bringing cold and rain. However, the day seemed promising this morning when Darcy woke up. It was early and nobody was up yet. He stayed lazily in his bed, watching how the light progressively entered his bedchamber.

He heard a coughing from the room beside his own. It was Jane Bennet. She had caught a chill yesterday while riding in the rain to respond Bingley's sisters' invitation.

Darcy had a sincere esteem for Jane Bennet and he doubted the idea of coming on horseback though it was likely to rain was hers. He rather suspected it was one of her mother's schemes. He had been sincerely sorry for her when he learned about her illness; and so had been Bingley. His friend had been terribly worried for her when he first heard the news after their return from Colonel Forster's.

His thoughts went back to the previous evening. He had found little enjoyment in the officers' company. They talked too much about ladies and it was often done in a disrespectful way.

He had heard the name Lydia Bennet often in the conversation. It seemed she was a favourite of theirs and he had overheard some ungratifying stories about her. The name of Kitty Bennet had also been sometimes mentioned with her sister's. Darcy had by no means been surprised; what he had seen of the younger Bennet girls at the Meryton Assembly had been widely sufficient to fix his mind on the subject.

This had, of course, not made the Bennets rise in his esteem.

Thinking of the Bennets made him think of one of them in particular. So, though he was the first awaken, he was the last to enter the dining room for breakfast.

"A note had been sent to the Bennet to inform them of the evolution of Miss Bennet's illness. I fear she is not better than last night, "Bingley informed him as he was having a cup of tea.

Darcy had suspected that and, knowing that if he had to acknowledge a quality to the Bennet it would be "familial solidarity", he thought it very likely that some members of the family would come to inquire after the lady. He was fearing the visit of one in particular; seeing her would mean new things to think of at night and he was in no need of that. In fact, he had thought about her possible coming last night and he had taken dispositions in consequence.

"I am going for a ride," he said. "Do you want to come with me Bingley?" he then asked, knowing perfectly well that the answer would be no.

"Oh ...well...no, thank you. I think I will stay here in case Miss Bennet's family come to inquire after her."

Darcy could not repress a smile. Bingley, Bingley...You lie so poorly. You know perfectly well that Caroline would welcome them. You just want to be here, near your Miss Bennet. Then out loud: "Very well. I'll see you later then." And with that he exited the room.

A valet was waiting for him with his coat. He never wore a hat for his wild morning rides. He loved to feel the wind in his hair, it had always given him a sensation of freedom.

Nelson was ready, as he had ordered it. He patted him gently in a hello before mounting. Horse and master were equally impatient and they directly took off at full speed.

He had not been galloping for five minutes before he caught the sight of a white and blue figure moving in his direction. He stopped his horse and screwed up his eyes to see better. It was a lady walking alone. She had not seen him yet and undertook getting over the fence he had had the intention of jumping. Once she reached the top, he saw her jump and land in the mud. She slightly lifted her skirt to see the damages and shrugged her shoulders as if she didn't care about her muddy shoes and petticoat. She then lifted her head and realized she was not alone. She froze in surprise, skirt still in hand.

Darcy caught his breath upon seeing her face. "Elizabeth..."

Chapter 4B

Posted on Friday, 7 April 2000, at 11 : 20 a.m.

Darcy caught his breath upon seeing her face. "Elizabeth..."

He had just came across the very person he wanted to avoid. However, he couldn't do anything but approach and greet her. He grew tense and spurred on his horse to advance. He could see more details of her person as he approached. She was obviously surprised and maybe a little embarrassed for she knew very well that she was all muddy.

"She looks like a child who had just been caught," he thought. "But no, she is definitely not a child," he corrected, detailing her. Her hair was all a mess, loose curls graciously framing her rosy face; her eyes were very bright and her mouth was half-opened in surprise. Then his gaze lowered, caressing her pleasing figure, to stop on the white well-formed calf the lifted dress was not hiding.

Why was that happening to him? He had came here to avoid her and instead he beheld the most beautiful sight of her he had ever seen. She was breathtakingly lovely in her present state and he was not able to advert his gaze.

Elizabeth was embarrassed under his stare. She suddenly realised the sight she was giving with her leg uncovered and blushed furiously, lowering her gown. She hopped Mr. Darcy would not see it as she already had a rosy face due to her previous exercise.

"What must he think of me!" she thought. But soon she checked herself, "What am I thinking of? I don't care about what that man thinks of me! I esteem him too little for that!" She raised her chin, her eyes full of challenge.

Darcy remembered his absurd remark when at the Meryton assembly: "Not handsome enough to tempt me!" Indeed! He had hardly looked at her then and had only said that to Bingley to be left alone. In fact, she was very handsome and tempted him very much indeed!

He was once again under her spell. Eventually, he his stare was very impolite and dismounted while trying to compose his face.

"Miss Bennet", he said expressionlessly.

"Mr. Darcy", she answered, giving a slight curtsey. "I was on my way to inquire after my sister.

"On foot?" Oh, why did I just said that? Of course she is on foot, you fool! he thought, mentally kicking himself for is stupid question.

"As you see", came the cold response. She was hoping he would resume his ride and leave her alone, but he seemed to have plans of his own and didn't move. She looked at him closely. She didn't like this man; he had insulted her the first time they met and he seemed to criticize everything in Hertfordshire. She could not deny he was very handsome with his wild hair and his becoming riding attire, but his expression was severe, almost reproachful, she thought. She felt uneasy under the intensity of his gaze and moved from one foot to another, unintentionally blushing again.

Darcy saw her blushing and thought it became her very well. He forgot that he came here to avoid her and heard himself saying: "Shall we be on our way to your sister?" He took a step to the side to show her the way. She seemed hesitant at first but soon passed before him with determination, her ringlets bouncing at the nape of her neck. He gripped the reins more tightly with one hand and carefully placed the other behind his back, refraining himself from catching one of those alluring curls between his fingers.

He followed slightly behind, which allowed him to observe her freely without her notice. He liked how her dress rustled, moving with her every step. She was a very good walker, unlike all the ladies of his acquaintance. Amused, he imagined Miss Bingley trying to keep her pace.

Nelson was pulling on the reins now and then but Darcy didn't really notice. Through the opening of her coat, he could see her sparkling cross moving up and down with her breath. He kept focused on her cross, mesmerized by the contrast of her white creamy skin and the crimson jewel.

But Elizabeth was keenly aware of his gaze upon her. She denied the pleasing sensation she was getting from it and focused on her anger. He wasn't making any efforts to make conversation and she won't make any efforts either. She thought he was absorbed in mentally criticizing her for her unladylike behaviour. "Well, let him think what he wants, I don't care about it!" She kept thinking about him in that way, her irritation increasing; she was not paying attention to her surroundings and didn't notice the branch on the ground. She stumbled and would have fallen if it were not for Darcy who had never taken his eyes from her and who had immediately caught her arm.

She looked up to murmur a thank you but she stood paralyzed when she met his gaze. Their eyes locked. Darcy had not let go of her arm and she could feel the warmth of his hand through her clothes. She had butterflies in her stomach and she realized with consternation that she liked it. She flushed for the third time since meeting him.

Unable to contain himself, he took a step forwards. But she drew back and he immediately released her arm. He looked away from her, mentally punishing himself for what he had been about to do: "Get a grip on yourself man!" He squeezed his lips together and his look hardened. Elizabeth, ashamed of the feelings she had when he gripped her arm, misunderstood completely his reaction. She was thinking he was blaming her for her lack of concentration. Add to that her little exhibition on the fence... Her anger was coming back and all of her previous sensations were forgotten again. She nodded to thank him and resume their walk to Netherfield.

Chapter 5

Posted on Tuesday, 11 April 2000, at 1 : 54 p.m.

Upon their arrival, Elizabeth was conducted to her sister. Darcy remained in the hall with Miss Bingley, who's disposition had been immediately alerted by the sight of him coming back with a lady. She had been even more altered when she saw who the lady was.

"Well, Mr. Darcy, I am very sorry for you," she said in an affected manner. "I know how you like your morning rides and it must have been very annoying to be interrupted like that."

Darcy was about to respond when she went on. "I suppose it was very gentlemanlike of you to take her in pity and to accompany her. I hope however that it was not too much trouble for you?"

"Not at all I assure you," he replied, uninterested, as he tried to get away.

But Miss Bingley, not at all satisfied with his response, was not disposed to do so. "And what did you think of her appearance? I must say that if she had not been with you, I might have taken her for one of those beggars who are wandering along the roads. Have you seen her muddy petticoat? Oh, and her hair! So untidy!"

She went on and on criticizing Elizabeth, trying at the same time to drag him into the drawing room. "And I am inclined to think that you wouldn't wish your sister to make such an exhibition! How unladylike of her!" A pause. "Well, I am afraid that this escapade has affected your admiration for her fine eyes?" she added with an assured smile.

A valet interrupted them at this moment to give Darcy a letter. He cast a glance at the sender's name before looking at Miss Bingley in the eye. "Not at all, they were brightened by the exercise. Now, if you will excuse me, I will go in my room to read my letter," he said before heading to the staircase, leaving a most disappointed orange-dressed Caroline.

The quietness of his chamber was very welcome after Caroline's chatter. He sat in a chair by the fire and looked at his letter. It was from Georgiana. He unfolded it and smiled as he recognized the little flower she always drew in her letters to him when she was in a happy disposition. The flower had disappeared after Ramsgate and its reappearance meant Georgiana was recovering at least. Reassured, he began reading.

The chimney clock struck eleven thirty. All were in the drawing room except for the Bennet sisters. Caroline was repeating with small variations what she had told Darcy about Elizabeth. Mrs. Hurst was the only one to give consideration to Caroline's critiques. Darcy had already heard them so he was not paying attention and was concentrating on his pinky ring, turning it now and then. Bingley chose not to hear them; his good nature forbade him to think so ill of a person, especially when that person was the sister of his dear angel. However, he tried to silence his sisters more than once, unsuccessfully of course. As for Mr. Hurst, he had collapsed on a sofa, waiting for lunch.

So, all the company was thus occupied when Elizabeth entered the room. She noticed an annoyed expression on Caroline's face but Bingley came immediately to warmly greet her.

"Miss Bennet, we are so happy to see you again. Is your sister any better?"

"I am afraid she is quite unwell, Mr. Bingley."

"I am sorry to hear it." His face obscured briefly before lightened again. "But of course you must stay until she recovers!"

"Oh no! I wouldn't wish to inconvenience you. Besides, I told my father I would be back for lunch with Jane's horse so Daisy would be available for the farm," Elizabeth replied somewhat uneasy. Except for Mr. Bingley, the room did not seem welcoming and she was unsettled by the gaze of Mr. Darcy who had been upon her ever since she entered the room.

Caroline and Louisa exchanged a contemptuous smile at her last sentence. Elizabeth did not seem to have noticed, thought Darcy. She was paying full attention to Bingley, who wouldn't hear of her departure. After another slight protestation, Elizabeth accepted the invitation and a servant was dispatched to Longbourn with the useful Daisy and a note to the Bennets.

Darcy didn't know how to react at this decision. The morning incident had shown him he could lose his control around her, and he didn't want that to happen again. On the other hand, Elizabeth's stay would be a relief. She was clever, quick minded, playful, beautiful. But there he interrupted his rambling thoughts for fear that all the room would notice his confusion. Anyway, all these qualities were welcome advantages when one had Caroline and Louisa as female company. After all, he had simply been surprised this morning, surely it wouldn't happen again.

Very glad about his arrangement, Bingley joyfully told Elizabeth would be very happy indeed with her stay. "And we are all delighted of course," he added with a glance at his sisters.

The ladies, thus watched over, tried to give a semblance of a smile while Hurst, feeling the lunch time approaching, began to awaken.

Chapter 6, Part A

Posted on Sunday, 16 April 2000, at 3 : 17 p.m.

Elizabeth was happy to stay with Jane. They were both extremely attached to one another and they generally shared anything. Generally... Elizabeth had not told about her encounter with Mr. Darcy. She didn't know why but she preferred keep that for herself; her mind was still confused and full of contradictory sensations and she wasn't able to think clearly. However, for Jane's sake, she managed to put all those thoughts aside and spent an agreeable afternoon distracting her sister till she showed some signs of weariness.

With Jane now soundly asleep, Elizabeth thought it would be polite to join the others for the evening out of respect for her host. Bingley was always welcoming and cordial and he was very attentive to Jane.

Her clothes had been brought earlier that afternoon and she selected a gown for the evening. One quarter of hour later she was ready. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and slightly retouched her hair.

"Well, Mama would not be displeased I think," she murmured to herself, an ironic smile playing on her lips. "She would even declare me ready to make a good catch!" And she set off.

Little did she know she had already made a good catch and that even with a muddy and disheveled appearance.

Upon entering the drawing room, she stayed some seconds on the threshold. She noticed the company was not engaged in the most exciting way and seemed quite dull. Bingley, Caroline and the Hursts were playing cards and Mr. Darcy was writing what seemed to be a rather long letter judging from the two sheet of paper already covered with his writing.

Elizabeth began to calculate how many minutes she would have to wait before rejoining Jane without appearing impolite. She didn't want to be rude towards Bingley; she liked him very much. As for the others' opinion, she didn't care.

She spotted some books on a table nearby. Yes, she would busy herself with a book. Let see what we have here... Hum, I think that will do. Having settled on her choice, she installed herself on a settee and began reading. But she soon found herself unable to concentrate on Voltaire's Candide as Caroline Bingley's high pitched voice was resounding most disagreeably in her ears.

"Charles, didn't you say the grounds around Netherfield were enchanting? I dare say they are nothing to Pemberley's. Mr. Darcy, what do you think?"

That gentleman had finished his letter and had joined the others for a game of cards, choosing a seat that allowed him a full view of Elizabeth. Occupied in watching that very lady, he had seen her slightly knit her delicate brows at Caroline's words. "Well, they are certainly very different, but both have their charms. Surely you didn't have the time to explore them properly, for I am sure you would find them very beautiful too," he said, noticing Elizabeth slight smile at his last sentence.

"But of course they are if you say so." Caroline didn't want to disagree with him in the least. Elizabeth's smile grew wilder. "Surely I didn't have the chance of seeing the most beautiful places in the area." She paused there, as if she was considering a matter of importance. And then, "I have grown quite fond of riding you know, and ...maybe...I should join you in your next ride, so you would show me the beauties of Hertfordshire."

"Caroline!" laughed Bingley, "The last time I saw you on a horse you were so terrified that you could only go at pace speed. It will take us a week only to make the tour of the property!"

Caroline glared at him. "It was long ago Charles, I am now a true proficient."

Her brother looked at her sceptically before saying, "Anyway, neither Darcy nor I are very well acquainted with Hertfordshire. Miss Elizabeth is the expert here. She could show us those beauties."

Elizabeth looked up from the book she was not reading to see Miss Bingley casting her a glance devoid of graciousness. "Oh... Do you ride Miss Eliza?" asked the lady, less than pleased with her brother's idea.

"Yes I do. I am very fond of riding actually and I would be glad to show you around," Elizabeth answered, sure of provoking Caroline's displeasure with a proposition she could not refuse without being rude. Miss Bingley on a horse would be a sight to behold!

"How very kind of you Miss Bennet!" exclaimed Bingley. He willfully ignored his sister's glare. "And I hope Darcy and I will equally benefit of your company and information? What about tomorrow morning?"

"I don't know if I can leave my sister for the whole morning," protested Elizabeth both annoyed and worried (thought she could not explain that last feeling) about Mr. Darcy's presence at the excursion.

"It would just be for a short time Miss Bennet," Bingley insisted. He doubted his sister's riding abilities somewhat and had a feeling that they would not go far in their ride.

"All right then. But it is late and I think I will retire myself. If you will excuse me."

"Of course. Oh! Breakfast at eight tomorrow. Maybe we will be able to return before your sister awakens."

Elizabeth smiled and left the room. After a short time, decided to do the same. He was eagerly awaiting the next morning.

Chapter 6, Part B

After an early breakfast they all headed to the stables, except for the Hursts, it was too early for them. Elizabeth had left Jane profoundly asleep and her spirits were lifted by the beautiful morning. Maybe I will have a little fun after all.

Darcy saw with pleasure the delighted expression on Elizabeth's face as she contemplated the surrounding country. He thanked God they were not alone together.

Four horses had been prepared and Elizabeth saw Darcy's black stallion among them. Yesterday she had been overwhelmed with such disturbing feelings that she had not had the opportunity of examining him. There was nothing she loved better than a beautiful horse. She patted him gently and turned to Darcy. "He is beautiful! What is his name?"

"His name is Nelson," he simply answered. It was the first time she was not addressing him with a teasing or a defiant tone. Though he liked the teasing one, that new one was much more pleasing. He focused on her little hand which was still patting Nelson. With surprise he realised he was jealous of his horse. Jealous of a horse! What am I thinking of! He tried to recollect himself as she was speaking.

"Nelson... Hum, yes; I think it becomes him very well. It brings out his strength but also his kindness and generosity."

Darcy was surprised with her statement. He had expected her to be afraid of the great animal. Even Georgiana was intimidated by him, and yet she was a very good rider.

He was about to linger on this new aspect of Elizabeth's personality when Miss Bingley's voice snapped him out of his reverie. "Shall we go now? I am impatient to see what wonders Miss Eliza will show us!"

And so they all set off. They first kept a slow pace but soon Elizabeth proposed a trot. The gentlemen agreed and accelerated before Caroline could protest. She was jumping in her saddle and endured all the pains of the world trying not to fall. She soon stopped her horse and claimed a 'terrible headache'. She was hoping Darcy would accompany her back.

Bingley did not fail to see the brief expression that passed on his friend's face. He decided to take Caroline with him, pressing the others to continue their ride. He took the reins of his sister's horse and lead her with authority in direction of the house.

The two were left to themselves with different feelings.

Darcy was watching the breeze playing in Elizabeth's hair. How lovely she looks thus! She was standing straight on her horse, which showed her long habit of riding and a perfect mastery of the art. Her delicate little hands were holding the reins with both firmness and sweetness. The skirt of her gown was falling with elegance on the animal's side, emphasizing her fine figure. He could see the end of a little foot showing out of the skirt.

The silence was making Elizabeth uneasy and she wanted to break that tęte-ŕ-tęte as soon as possible. And so, after a short time, claimed she had to return to the house to look after her sister.

Dragged from his thoughts, Darcy was slightly startled by the sound of her voice. He had not heard what she had said but he ventured a "Yes, of course".

Elizabeth looked at him with a strange expression but said nothing and started back to the house.

Chapter 7, Part A

The Bennet sisters had been at Netherfield for four days now and were to leave on the morrow.

Darcy was at one of the library windows, dwelling on the time that Elizabeth had been there. It had not been so bad after all. They had barely been alone together, she had spent most of her time with her sister. The most unnerving thing, though related, was not from Elizabeth herself. Miss Bingley had been teasing him too often for his taste and was almost uncivil to her guest. It was a good thing for both she and he she was to leave tomorrow.

Suddenly, he saw her heading to the stables and disappeared inside. A moment later she was in the courtyard again and with her was the horse Bingley had given her leave to use. She graciously mounted and arrange her skirts before leaving.

Darcy looked up at the sky. It was quite dark and menacing. Without thinking, he left the library and headed to the stables at his turn. He saddled Nelson himself and set off in pursuit of Elizabeth.

He spotted her arrested in the middle of a field. He pushed his horse in a gallop at the same time she spurred hers. She was galloping as if she was being chased by the devil. He pressed Nelson faster and gained some distance due to the superiority of his mount on hers. He could see her better now. Her hair was freely floating in the wind as the pins had blown away. She didn't seem to have seen him yet.

She was now heading towards a high fence without hearing Darcy crying her to stop.

He saw the horse rise, jump and safely land on the other side of the obstacle.

Angry with her for having caused him so much fear, he got over the fence too and reached her. She had stopped on the top of a low nearby hill. her cheeks were rosy because of the exercise and her eyes were glowing with excitement. She started when she heard a horse approaching and turned on her saddle to see who it was.

Darcy stopped his horse by Elizabeth's side. His face was stormy. His leg was almost touching her dress and her nearness made him even more unnerved.

"What do you think you are doing? He cried to a stunned and frightened Elizabeth. "Are you mad? You could have killed yourself!" He was breathing hard and completely out of control.

Elizabeth shivered. She put that on the count of fear. Darcy saw her shiver and it provoked a tingle inside him. He suddenly leaned forwards and kissed her passionately. She froze in surprise but soon felt strange and pleased at the same time. Without thinking, she kissed him in return. The world was whirling around her and she lost all sense of reality.

Neither of them saw the sky becoming more and more threatening. They were oblivious to all but themselves.

A bolt of lightning teared through the sky and a thunderclap resounded. Afraid, the horses shied, breaking their embrace.

They stood immobile, eyes locked, while the rain began to fall. The horses pawed the ground, enervated by the storm. God! How I love her... He was admitting at last what he had unconsciously known for a long time. There, in the rain and in the storm, he admitted he loved this woman. Her hair, sweeping by the wind and the rain, were twisting in the air like a dark oriflamme. Her lips were trembling.

Coming back to his senses and realizing what he had just done, Darcy tried to apologize. "Miss Bennet...forgive me I ..."

Another thunderclap resounded and cut him off. He succeeded in controlling his horse but Elizabeth's reared up. She lost her balance and fell on the ground under Darcy's horrified gaze.

Chapter 7B

Posted on Thursday, 20 April 2000, at 1 : 49 p.m.

"Elizabeth!" he cried, dismounting in a hurry. He rushed to the form lying on the ground and kneeled next to her.

He stroked her cheek with a trembling hand and gently called her name with an equally trembling voice. "Miss Bennet...Elizabeth..."

No response.

The rain was now falling hard and her dress was all soaked, taking the exact shape of her body. Darcy tried to ignore this and resumed his pleadings, expecting a reaction.

After several attempts, his efforts were finally rewarded. She tossed her head and moaned in pain.

"Miss Bennet, are you all right?"

She slowly opened her eyes but shut them immediately. It was too difficult. Where was she? Her head was pounding and she was so cold...She began trembling.

Darcy took her delicately in his arms and walked to his horse with his precious burden. As Elizabeth had once said, Nelson was devoted to his master and he had not run away like the other horses might have. He was waiting in spite of the storm.

Elizabeth felt as if she was floating in a fog. She heard a voice but her confused mind didn't allow her to understand what it was saying.

"You'll be all right Miss Bennet; I promise. I put you on my horse now, don't be afraid."

He placed her on Nelson and, keeping an arm around her waist to prevent her from falling, he mounted behind her. He took the reins, thus circling her with his strong and protective arms.

"Miss Bennet, can you hear me?"

Elizabeth was feeling warm and secure where she was. She didn't want to move from there (wherever 'there' might be). However, upon the insistence of the voice, she forced her eyes open. They fluttered at first and the image was blurred, but she could soon see Mr. Darcy's concerned face above her. She confusedly realised she was in his arms, but she was feeling too weak (and too comfortable) to protest.

"We are not very far from Netherfield. We'll try to get there as soon as possible without causing you too much pain."

Still in a daze, she nodded without having heard a word of what he had said. All was so confused. She looked at him with feverish eyes. Darcy unconsciously tightened his embrace, which made him even more acutely aware of her body pressed against his. Clenching his teeth, he struggled to conquer the sensations which were overwhelming him and spurred his horse forward.

Elizabeth had closed her eyes again, her head resting on his large chest. In her daze she could hear a powerful sound. Before losing consciousness again, she vaguely wondered if it was the horses' hooves hammering the ground or the beating of the rider's heart.

Chapter 8

Posted on Wednesday, 21 June 2000, at 9 : 31 a.m.

All of Netherfield was in a commotion. Jane, sufficiently recovered, had come down to announce her anxiety. Her sister had been gone for quite a while now and she was worried because of the storm outside.

They realized that Darcy was missing as well and Bingley tried to reassure her, "Darcy is a very good horseman, if your sister is with him you have nothing to worry about."

Those words were of some comfort to Jane but she nervously paced the room before settling herself at a window. The anxious feelings that she had lost were quickly regained when she peered outside towards the dark, threatening sky torn up with lightening.

When she saw Elizabeth's horse coming back without his rider, it was too much for poor Jane who collapsed onto a nearby sofa. Bingley rushed to her side and took her delicate hand in his. Jane could vaguely hear him say he would immediately send his people in the search of them.

While he was gently patting Jane's hand, Caroline and Louisa were left to themselves. Caroline was frantic. What if something had happened to her dear Fitzwilliam? She cursed Eliza Bennet and Louisa tried to calm her.

Surprisingly, the only one who was really useful was Hurst. Sober for once, he had taken Jane's place by the window. It was he who saw Darcy and Elizabeth arrive.

Everyone rushed in the hall to see enter a very wet Darcy and a no less wet Elizabeth in his arms.

The following morning, the sun was shining and its beams were enhancing the ochre color of the Longbourn House's walls. No one could have told there was a storm the previous day, so peaceful and bright was the country.

"My dear! Mr. Bennet! Wonderful news!" Mrs. Bennet's voice echoed through the whole house.

Mr. Bennet was comfortably settled in his library reading a book. He rolled his eyes and prepared himself for the storm. Mrs. Bennet burst into the room,

"Wonderful news!" she repeated, agitating a letter in the air. "Jane and Lizzy are to stay a little while longer at Netherfield!"

"How so? Has Jane taken ill again?"

"Jane? Of course not! She must be quite recovered by now and this is for the best. She will have time to catch Mr. Bingley while Lizzy is recovering !"

"Lizzy? Recovering? What happened to her?" Mr. Bennet asked with no little concern.

"Oh...I don't know. It slipped out of my mind. I was so excited about Jane's good luck. Hmm...let see...ah yes, it seems she had taken a fall, yes she fell from her horse. The silly girl! She will never find a husband like that! But, for the moment Jane can stay at Netherfield..."

"But how is Lizzy?"

"Oh, I don't know. There, here is the letter. I am going to have some clothes packed for Jane. The poor girl has nothing suitable to wear. I want her at her best! Perhaps the blue gown..." She pondered it a little before exiting the room in a hurry calling "Hill! Hill!"

Alone at last, Mr. Bennet attentively read the letter. It did not seem too alarming though the doctor recommended complete rest for three days. And she could not be moved for one week. The letter was quite vague as to the circumstances of the accident. He wondered how she could have fallen off her horse. It was he who had taught her how to ride. She had been on a horse since her third birthday. He remembered the little pony he had offered her for the occasion, Pepper was his name...

And while his wife was having Jane's trunk made (her voice was loud enough for him to hear a "No Hill, not this one" or a "I said the blue gown not the green one!"), he let the memories invade him.

Unaware of this news but quite well provided with her own, Mrs. Philips briskly walked to Longbourn. Three minutes after her arrival, Mrs. Bennet's voice was resounding anew,

"Oh sister! What a wonderful news! Girls, Girls! Come here!"

"What is it Mama?" asked an excited Lydia entering her mother's room, Kitty in tow.

Mary, knowing that when her mother shouted "Girls!" like that it was for her two younger sisters, did not look up from the book she was reading.

Mrs. Bennet was frantic,

"Dress yourselves girls! Hurry! We are going to Netherfield!"

"Again!" protested Lydia. "But there is nothing for us at Netherfield! Mr. Bingley is all besotted by Jane and Mr. Darcy is so boring! We had planned to go to Meryton to see the officers."

"Stop it child! You don't know what you are talking about. The officers can wait! My dear sister has just told me a colonel Fitzwilliam arrived at Netherfield yesterday evening. He is Mr. Darcy's cousin. I don't think there is any hope for you with that proud, disagreeable man but you must try with his cousin! Oh! a colonel..."

There Mrs. Bennet had to sit down.

"But Mama, we have no reason to go to Netherfield," Kitty whimpered. "Lizzy and Jane are to come home today. What shall we do?"

"Oh! I quite forgot! Lizzy had taken a fall yesterday; we are going to check upon her. Such wonderful news and in one single morning!"

Go and dress yourselves at your best my dears," Mrs. Philips said. "I will take care of your mother."

Kitty and Lydia were soon in their room discussing their attire-to-be.

Mrs. Philips stayed with her sister who had nearly fainted at such wonderful news.

"Oh! Were are my salts?"

Chapter 9

Posted on Thursday, 22 June 2000, at 2 : 40 p.m.

Colonel Fitzwilliam was strolling through the park of Netherfield. He reflected upon the events that had happened since he arrived at Bingley's estate the previous day. He had wanted to surprise hid old friend and his cousin, but when he passed the door he had realized that no one in the house was in need of more entertainment. He had found a dumbfounded Darcy rooted to the hall floor, staring at the nothingness. A pool of water had begun to form at his feet but he did not seem to care.

Fitzwilliam glanced at the butler who was standing near the drawing room door. He shrugged imperceptibly in acknowledgement of his lack of understanding as to the situation.

The colonel passed his still immobile cousin and made his way to the drawing room. A no less surprising sight welcomed him. Bingley was pacing restlessly while Louisa was comforting her sister who was not yet recovered from the sight of Eliza Bennet in Mr. Darcy's arms. The way his clothes were clinging tightly to him had totally escaped her notice. The only thing she had seen was Elizabeth in the place SHE, Caroline Bingley, should have been.

Unaware of the previous events, Fitzwilliam only saw his friends in an unusual state (well, except for Hurst who was now collapsed on a sofa). He knew at this moment without a doubt that something strange was going on at Netherfield (great deduction Sherlock!) and he had been glad to have chosen this place for his two weeks of permission.

As a soldier, no, as a GREAT soldier, Fitzwilliam could not stay indoors for too long. It was his need for exercise which had led him to the park this morning.

He spotted Darcy who was leaning against a big tree looking somewhere towards the house (towards a certain window perhaps...)

"My God!" Fitzwilliam thought. "I would never had guessed that I would see Darcy with such a lovesick expression on his face and such a puppy look. I thought him a hopeless case."

"Darcy! Old chap!" he shouted.

Darcy started, not counting on having company this morning. "Good morning Fitzwilliam," he managed to say in a rather polite voice.

"Cheer up man! Do you not enjoy this beautiful morning?"

"Well, I am outside right now so it should be easy enough for you to answer that question."

"Darcy! You will never change! How do you expect to win a lady's heart if you are always behaving like that?" He caught the brief glance his cousin gave to one window of the house. A little smile crept over the colonel's face. So he had been right, the man had a kind feeling for someone. "So Fitzy, I heard you saved a damsel in distress yesterday?"

Darcy frowned upon hearing the name Fitzwilliam found for him in their childhood. "Do not call me like that Colonel Mushroom! And Miss Elizabeth was not in distress."

"Oh, Miss Elizabeth...She must be one of the two Bennet sisters staying at Netherfield. I do not blame you for your taste. I saw briefly the eldest before coming outside and she is a true angel. Too bad she is completely besotted with Bingley. And you are getting the second; if she is half as pretty as her sister is, you are a lucky man. Pray, tell me, is there any other charming Bennet girl left for me?"

Darcy had frowned again when heard his cousin say Jane was besotted with Bingley. Could it be? He had been so caught up with his own situation that he had paid little attention to other things. "They are highly unsuitable," he replied rather distractedly.

"There is your excuse again: highly unsuitable," he mimicked. "You know very well you and Bingley can afford to marry a lady of little fortune. As for me, well..."

"You are a poor beggar with no money to eat; you are commanding a mushroom army and you will poison Napoleon with one of your awful 'fricassée de champignons'*. We will win the war and you will be promoted a general."

"I knew I could cheer you up! I am the best for that. And you know my fricassée de champignons is not that bad. Hurst found it 'quite interesting' and he is a reference in the cooking business."

"At any rate, you can be sure I will never eat that stuff of yours again. Last time it was because we were all starved. Bingley took several days to recover."

"But it was my first attempt, I could not have guessed the mushrooms were not what we can call comestible. But I am a true proficient now," he said proudly.

"Yes. And it is a truth universally acknowledged that a colonel in the English army must know how to make a good fricassée de champignons !"

"Yes it is indeed!" and they both burst into laughter. After gaining some composure the headed to the house.

"You know there are three of them," said Darcy.

"Three of what?"

"There are three other Bennet girls"

"Five girls in the same house?"

"But you will be disappointed, they are nothing to their elder sisters. And when we will be at parties, I advise you not to wear your red uniform. You would not survive otherwise."

"That bad?"

"That bad. But Miss Elizabeth has a friend, a good friend. her name is Charlotte Lucas..."

The rest of their conversation could not be heard anymore.

*= mushroom fricassée

Chapter 10

Posted on Tuesday, 27 June 2000, at 11 : 43 a.m.

As they were approaching the main entry of the house, Darcy and Fitzwilliam noticed a rather common carriage waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Darcy recognized the Bennet's carriage.

"So, the dragon and the dragonnettes are here," he thought unenthusiastically. He knew it would not do Elizabeth good if she were worried about her mother and sisters' behaviour. He had noticed her mortification when they came to check upon Jane the last time. He had had a word with the doctor who reassured him a little. Elizabeth was not seriously injured, just a little shaken and confused. Her head ached though and she needed rest. But surely she would not rest if she knows her family is downstairs. She would imagine the worse (and no doubt with reasons). He sighed, "Come on Fitzwilliam, courage. It seems you will face the dragons earlier we had thought."

"The Bennet clan?"

"Yes, the mother and two of her daughters, as last time, I suppose."

They both took a deep breath before setting a foot in the vast hall. Apparently the Bennet had just arrived for, from their spot, they could hear Mrs. Bennet say "Oh, Mr. Bingley! What a tragedy! My poor, poor Lizzy... Luckily my dear Jane is here with her, thanks to your generous hospitality, she is such a sweet girl, always caring for others before herself," before the drawing room's door was fully closed.

Darcy had been right. From the moment she had heard the sound of a carriage in the alley, alone in her room, Elizabeth has been agitated. She was worried for the Bennet's reputation of course, but most of all, she feared for Jane. Without having her mother's mercenary mind Elizabeth wished a marriage between Bingley and her sister. Jane was such a sweet caring girl, she deserved happiness. And Elizabeth knew without a doubt that Jane's happiness was Mr. Bingley. And now her mother could ruin it all. She remembered too well Mr. Darcy's reactions to her mother's words.

"Mr. Darcy?!? Why on earth do I take him as a reference? Why should it bother me if he does not approve of my family? It is Bingley's opinion which counts in the matter at hand, not his friend's."

But everytime she imagined what could be said downstairs, it was HIS reactions she saw. It was his frown, his haughty countenance. And then, all of a sudden, it was the way his eyes had pierced her soul on the hill; she had felt a weakness invade all her body and she could still feel it only by remembering it. And his lips upon hers...

"Arghhhhhh! Stop it girl!" she raged, punching her pillow. "Ouch! my headache is coming back again. Hateful man! And now I am here, talking out loud to myself and punching my poor innocent pillow. Maybe I am crazy? Yes, I must be crazy, and it is all his fault. Hateful man !"

But she was more angry at herself. Because she knew that hate was a dangerous feeling. Too far from indifference and to close of ... She could not bring herself to say the word so she punched once more her pillow before throwing it on the floor.

Chapter 11

Posted on Friday, 30 June 2000, at 3 : 41 p.m.

"I am fine Jane! You do not have to nurse me like that. Why do you not go downstairs for a while. You could put in practice the good lessons Mama gave you to catch a husband."

The two sisters were both on Elizabeth's bed having one of their sisterly talks. It was evening and Jane was reluctant to leave her sister alone.

"Lizzy!" Jane blushed prettily and cast her eyes down. "You should not say things like that. I have already told you he was not my Mr. Bingley."

"True. But who said I was talking of Mr. Bingley? There are three single men in this house and all of them very eligible. You had betrayed yourself dear!"

Jane blushed even more (if possible). Lizzy smiled tenderly. "I know you like him, Jane. Just go downstairs, he will be happy to see you. Besides you have to study the new guest of Netherfield for me for I am wedged in this room."

"Colonel Fitzwilliam? He seems an amiable man."

"Jane! Every people you meet seem amiable to you!"

"I know, I know. Do not ask me then. And why do you want to know about him?"

"Oh...I just want to know if he is like his cousin, proud and arrogant, that is all. Just curiosity."

"Just curiosity? I see." And then," Lizzy, you never told me what happened yesterday between you and Mr. Darcy." Uneasy, Elizabeth played with the fringes of the shawl Jane had given her to keep her warm. " Am I dreaming Lizzy or are you actually blushing? I cannot be sure because of the dim light but..."

"Stop it Jane!" Elizabeth said throwing a pillow at her sister. "You see, you upset me", she said in mock offense. "This is too much for my already wounded pride."

"Your already wounded pride?"

"Yes, I had not fallen of a horse since I was ten years old."

"Oh my! And after that it is Mr. Darcy who is proud and arrogant!"

"Jane..." cautioned Elizabeth, grabbing another pillow (it is the pillow day ;) )

"All right! I will go now. Good night", she said kissing her sister.

"Good night."

Once alone in her room Elizabeth pondered over Jane's strange behaviour. Never had she been so out spoken or so teasing. Was it the effect of love? Well, it was not impossible. She was glad her sister was with Bingley now. Of course she would never admit to anyone she felt quite lonely. She had had her mother's visit today but it had only awoken her headache. Her mother had not a particularly sweet and soothing voice, despite all the sweet and soothing words she had bestowed upon her, inciting her to take her time to recover; she would not have Jane removed from Netherfield too quickly would she?

Tired only at the mention of her mother, Elizabeth stifled a yawn and decided to have some sleep.

She was in a forest. It was windy, black and stormy. She was running, running away from something she could not see. She could only felt its presence, its heavy breath. She was frightened. Branches and brambles were hanging to her skirt, scratching her skin and slowing her run. The scratches were nothing to her. She could felt the tepid blood on her arms and legs but she did not care. All that mattered was to escape. Suddenly she saw a light, a light coming from a house. The door was opened and a tall figure was standing on the threshold. He was a friend, he would protect her. Hope made her increase her speed. She was close, she was so close. But when she touched the arm he had outstretched, all went black. Then she heard powerful beats. She realized she was no longer in the forest but in a rider's arm who was taking her away on his black mighty steed. A feeling of déjŕ vu seized her. She looked up to see who the rider was but in her heart she already knew the answer. She had the confirmation of it and shuddered. The rider tightened his embrace to reassure her and smiled.

Elizabeth woke up in sweat. The room was not black for she had not blew out the candle before going to sleep. She was trembling and noticed the covers were on the floor, probably tossed away by her restless movements in her sleep. She had had nightmares before but she hesitated as to declare her last dream one of those. The first part was one to be sure, but the last...

She was all wet but her throat was dry. She tentatively set one foot on the floor and, seeing it was not too shaky, proceeded with the other. She was not to stable either but she made it to the chair where was laying her dressing gown. She took off her wet nightgown and dropped it to the floor with a shiver before quickly putting on her dressing gown. She then reached her nightstand for a glass of water gut the decanter was empty. "Well, that is my luck!" She checked the clock. Two in the morning. She surely could safely go in the kitchens in her dressing gown at this hour.

Not bothering to put her sandals, Elizabeth cautiously opened her door and exited her room, candle in hand. She tiptoed in the corridor towards the staircase. The old wooden steps only slightly cracked under her light weight. She was trying so hard not to make noise that she did not noticed the thin ray of light under the library door when she passed it.

She finally made it to the kitchen. In preparation for the breakfast, a big milk jar has been placed on a table for the servants. Elizabeth searched around sometimes before finding a glass. She had filled it and was about to leave when she spied a plate of biscuits on a huge sideboard. Elizabeth has always been greedy and besides she only had a light supper. But with a candle in one hand and the milk in the other there was no room for the biscuits. And despite her gluttony she had no desire to stay much longer in that freezing room. In her frustration she had let her eyes wandering about the room and she spotted an abandoned plate in the corner of another sideboard.

"Well, that is what I call a sign," she gaily said.

A moment later she was out of the kitchens carrying her milk glass precariously placed on the plate and surrounded with some biscuits. She walked cautiously towards the stairs, her eyes fixed upon the instable and rocking glass of milk.

Therefore she did not see the tall figure standing in her way before she had bumped into it. As she was walking very slowly, she managed to keep the glass on the plate and only splashed the figure waistcoat with some milk.

Elizabeth looked up sheepishly only to find herself lost in Mr. Darcy's deep burning eyes. She took a step backwards thus unconsciously allowing him a full view of her rather undressed figure.

As sleep had been escaping him, Darcy had decided a glass of brandy wouldn't be so bad and he had ended on one of the comfortable library armchair. He had been surprised to hear someone coming down at this hour. His surprise was nothing however to the shock he experienced when he had seen who it was and in what state. It was the first time he and Elizabeth were together since the accident. And this was decidedly not the sight of her he would have for his future sake. He was quite enjoying the view at the moment though. Her wonderful hair loosen, her beautiful figure framed in her rather indecent attire...She had the same guilty expression than when he had caught her getting over the fence and he found it adorable.

He had not moved when he had seen her walking in his direction. He had deliberately stayed in her way and (he would guiltily remember his ungentlemanly behaviour later) had reveled in their brief body contact.

She shuddered under his intense stare but this time she knew it was from pleasure.

"Miss Bennet are you unwell?"

Her voice was a little shaky when she replied she was not. She knew she had to get quickly out of there but could not bring herself to do it. Finally the cold tile-flooring under her bare feet brought her back to her senses and she quickly left for her room, her glass rocking more than ever on its plate.

Darcy blinked several times before realizing she had gone. Why could he have not think of something to say instead of staying staring at her like a fool? Yes he was a fool. Perhaps asking the colonel for advice would be useful. Yes, he would see to it tomorrow. As for now, well, maybe another little brandy...

Elizabeth closed her door behind her and leaned against it. Why should he have to be here? It is two in the morning. And to think he saw me in my dressing gown! Hateful man!

But as she was walking to her bed a thought struck her: "I hate him do not I?"

Chapter 12

Posted on Monday, 3 July 2000, at 12 : 59 p.m.

"Oh my God! I love him!"

It was with that phrase, pronounced while still unconsciousness in sleep, that Elizabeth woke up the following morning (or rather some hours after her 'night encounter').

As she woke up in her dressing gown the possibility (which was very alluring) of it all being a dream was quickly put aside.

What had she just said? That she loved him? That was absurd! She tried to convince herself she hated him but nothing happened: neither the usual effervescence she felt when she was thwarted, nor the (usually frequent) 'Hateful man!'

One night had brought about that great of a change in her? No. But a dream had made her aware of her vulnerability. And she did not like it. She hated to appear weak in front of other people. But no matter how much she hated it, she was weak, weak in front of this man. What would she do now? She did not want to give their kiss too much importance. She was afraid of him seeing more than there actually was in that embrace. Even if she was not particularly experienced with masculine behaviour in practice, she, in theory (thanks to her father's library) knew quite a bit. She knew, among other things, that thwarting or frightening a man could lead to, well, what happened on the hill.

And she had deliberately thwarted him, pretending not to hear him yelling at her to stop, and she had deliberately frightened him in jumping over the fence.

She had decided her course of action when she was immobile in the field and when her horse had moved her ears, thus informing her of the presence of an intruder. Without looking behind her, she had known without a doubt that it was him. Then she had spurred her mount.

She had stopped on the hill, staggered by what she had just done. She had acted on impulse and was regretting it. That's was she had started when she had heard him approaching. She had been afraid of the storm that she had allowed to break loose and was totally out of control. It was at that moment she had lost her heart but she had refused to admit it until now.

With a sigh she got up from her bed and walked to the window. The morning was well-advanced, more than she had thought. With a little tingle in her heart (which was not disagreeable at all) she noticed the object of her thoughts. He was walking with a man unknown to her. She supposed it was his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. From what she could see from her little observation, the latter was carrying most of the conversation. Darcy was trying to place one or two sentences but he was being 'severely' reprimanded every time by his cousin. She judged this from the big gesture of dread the later was using in abundance.

She sighed anew. Maybe they would let her come down a little today. She wanted very much to meet that colonel who was giving Mr. Darcy a lesson.

Mr. Darcy... It sounded too formal. I do not even know his first name!

Far from afflicting her, this thought brought a little smile on her face. Now she would have a little challenge: to find Mr. Darcy's name. She mused some time on the different names which came to her mind but without finding one that seemed to suit him.

She giggled. She was acting like a stripling in love.

From hate to love... Well, she had never really hated him. But she would have continued to believe it had it not been for that kiss. The truth was that she had never forgotten his slight at the Meryton Assembly. She too had her pride after all, and, in love or not, she would find some kind of punishment for him.

She knew she had some power on him because of his outburst on the hill. She did not know the feelings she inspired him but she did know it was not indifference. It was up to her now to make him hers. And for the first time she seriously considered listening to her mother's advice. Well, perhaps just listen and wait for a better adviser. Her uncle and aunt were to arrive soon in Hertfordshire. Yes, her aunt Gardiner would be a wonderful and a sensible adviser.

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