The Glass Swan

By Eliza Christine

Beginning, Next Section

Chapter 1

Posted on Wednesday, 6 July 2005

“It is a fair prospect, I suppose.” Darcy surveyed the land with a sharp eye. It was not as beautiful as Derbyshire, he concluded, but there was a hint of wilderness that he liked.

“I think it suits me quite well.”

“Then you might as well lease it, Bingley.”

His friend grinned. His own estate in the country. He nudged his horse with his knees and galloped toward the house, emitting a holler. Darcy followed, leaning into the wind. He was soon ahead of his friend and stood up on his stirrups. With his left hand holding the reins, he pumped the air with his right fist in mock triumph.

From Oakham Mount, a lone woman stood, watching the pair on the field below. They seemed so carefree and full of life. They would make very good neighbors indeed!

Elizabeth was reflecting upon the two riders she observed but a month ago. She knew the one on the brown mare had been Charles Bingley, the current owner of Netherfield, but could the other one possible be Mr. Darcy? It was hardly credible to think the man she saw riding so blithely across the fields was the arrogant and proud Mr. Darcy! Surely, the man she saw on the dark stallion matched Bingley's amiable personality.

“Well, it would make perfect sense to assume it was another friend and not Mr. Darcy. After all, Bingley is the type of person to have many friends.”

“Lizzy," Jane gently whispered in her ear. “Are you quite alright?”

Elizabeth blushed, realizing she had voiced her musing out loud. “Oh, I'm fine, my dear. Just thinking. That is all.”

“Oh, why there's Denny!” the youngest Bennet daughter cried. She and sixteen-year-old Kitty crossed the street and waved enthusiastically at the officer.

“What inappropriate behavior! I am horrified that my cousins would act in such a manner. Why if my dear patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, were here-” Mr. Collins began twittering.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. Despite the lack of decorum exhibited by her younger sisters, she was not willing to suffer through a quarter hour speech by her toady cousin. She linked arms with Jane and pulled her along, leaving Mr. Collins to catch up with them.

“Lizzy! We have left our cousin behind.”

“Exactly, Jane, exactly.”

Captain Denny smiled and nodded politely, though he was actually quite frightened by Lydia. She batted her eyelashes at an alarmingly quick rate. Sometimes, he wondered if perhaps she had an ailment in her eye that made her do so. Of course, he was too much of a gentleman to ask.

“Miss Bennet. Miss Elizabeth. How good it is to see you both,” Denny said with a bow upon perceiving the eldest Bennet sisters. "I was just about to introduce my new friend here.” Denny nodded toward a tall gentleman with a long, slightly hooked nose, sparkling green eyes, and a welcoming grin that became his countenance very well. “Mr. Wickham, these are the Bennet daughters of Longbourn.”

He proceeded to introduce them and Mr. Wickham was all politeness in greeting each and every one of the beauties. He was particularly interested in Lydia. She was in full bloom even in her young age and bubbled over with excitement and silliness. Kitty was of considerably less interest though her large blue eyes were particularly striking. He had a weakness for beautiful eyes. Wickham was told there was a middle child named Mary and nothing more. Next, there was a petite brunette. This one might be worth the trouble of seducing... Elizabeth smiled warmly and received a wink in return. There was something about her that Wickham delighted in, though she was not significantly prettier than the first sister he met. The last one, Jane, was a classic beauty, an angel with cool blue eyes and blond hair swept up. He did not like her at all.

“Cousins! Cousins!” A breathless Mr. Collins reached the group and Jane was obligated to introduce him.

After several minutes of conversation in which Lydia found herself quite neglected, she interrupted them by saying loudly, “It is a shame that you are not an officer, Mr. Wickham. You would look very handsome in a red coat.”

Wickham had the courtesy to blush before saying, “Well, Miss Lydia, I am happy to tell you that I shall be joining the militia here in Meryton. You shall see me in a red coat after all.”

“La! How wonderful!” Lydia then commenced to invite the pair to her Aunt Philip's home for a gathering that night.

Elizabeth wanted to pull her youngest sister aside and scold her for her highly improper behavior, but at that moment, Bingley arrived, riding on his brown mare. He greeted the Bennets and their cousin before looking earnestly at Jane.

“And your family, are they well?” he inquired.

“They are in the best of health. And what of your family? And Mr. Darcy?” Jane replied politely.

Out of the corner of her eye, Elizabeth saw Mr. Wickham flinch. His countenance had become quite pale and he was squinting at Bingley, as though he were trying to remember him.

Chapter 2

Later that evening, Elizabeth found herself sitting with Mr. Wickham. He charmed her with his conversation; yet, she desperately sought the reason for his reaction earlier that day. To her surprise, he brought up the subject foremost on her mind.

“Has Mr. Bingley been in town long?”

“For about a month. He has let Netherfield, which is a few miles from Meryton. Do you know him?”

“Yes and no,” he answered slowly.

“I apologize, sir. I do not follow.”

“I know of Mr. Bingley but I have not had the pleasure of his acquaintance.”

“Oh, tis a shame. He is a very amiable man,” Elizabeth said sincerely.

“So, I have heard," Mr. Wickham replied. He looked about him to see if anyone was attending their conversation. When he saw that most of the room's occupants were consumed by the lottery tickets, he leaned forward and asked with caution, “Tell me, is Mr. Darcy in Hertfordshire as well?”

“Indeed he is.”

“Is he...is he well-liked in this area?”

“I would say not,” Elizabeth replied, warming to one of her favorite subjects.

“That does not surprise me,” he retorted, sitting back.

Elizabeth inclined her head, encouraging him to continue. She delighted in speaking about Mr. Darcy's proud demeanor and was disappointed that her two closest confidantes, Jane and Charlotte, did not share her sentiment on the matter. She smirked, thinking it would be a fine thing to laugh at Darcy's arrogance with such a handsome officer as Mr. Wickham.

“I have known Darcy my entire life,” Wickham said quietly. “The late Mr. Darcy was my godfather.”

Elizabeth's eyes widen in astonishment. Wickham, realizing that he had captured her attention, leaned forward again and launched into his story. “My father and old Mr. Darcy were great friends. In fact, my father was the steward of the Darcy family estate, Pemberley, until he died several years past. It was their hope that their sons would be friends as well and though, from early on, we were playmates, there was always this undercurrent... You have to understand, Miss Bennet, old Mr. Darcy always held me in the highest esteem, probably more than he should have, and it caused his son to become quite jealous of me. We...” Wickham paused and looked at Elizabeth apologetically. “Miss Bennet, I forget myself. You would not be interested in my story. Anyway, I have too much respect for my godfather to say such things about his son.”

“Oh, Mr. Wickham,” Elizabeth replied sympathetically. Her composure remained intact though her mind was racing, wanting to know more, wanting to understand the connection between this handsome officer and that arrogant snob.

I have her where I want her. Wickham smiled softly and continued, as though he were reflecting upon a childhood memory. “After my father died, it was Mr. Darcy who took care of me, who provided for me. He even went so far as to pay my way through school. He thought it proper that I be educated. But that is a story for another time. I would not want to get into the mess with the will.”

“The will?” Elizabeth asked in all curiosity.

“Yes, the will,” he sighed. “Apparently Mr. Darcy left me a living and his son refused to honor his father's dying wish. I suspect, old Mr. Darcy loved me like a son and Will could not deal with that. We were always in competition, but it was not the inheritance that bothered me. You see that I am doing just fine without it.” He spread his arms wide, palms up, indicating that he was very much in good health and good spirits.

“I think it is very noble of you not to begrudge Mr. Darcy. Especially since he is the one who has cost you what is rightfully yours,” Elizabeth said with feeling. Her anger towards Mr. Darcy could not be properly put into words. She recalled with full force how he stood about at the Meryton Assembly, disdaining their country roots and refusing to dance with anyone outside his fashionable London party. She had thought him above his company but to find that he was dishonorable as well! She shook her head, trying to focus on Wickham's words.

“Money is no matter to me. It is...” Wickham looked towards the ceiling, trying not to laugh. He finally choked out, “It is almost too much to speak of it.”

Elizabeth moved closer. “Oh, what other awful thing could this man have done?”

“It is not my place to say, Miss Bennet. But...I do feel that it is my place to warn you. Mr. Darcy is a blackguard,” Wickham declared, his eyes and lips hard. “He has sullied...”

Elizabeth was on the edge of her seat. She was about to fall off when he stopped. She looked around in surprise and noticed that Mr. Collins was passing.

“Your cousin has much high praise for Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”

“So he does,” Elizabeth murmured with a slight roll of her eyes.

“Did you know she is Mr. Darcy's aunt?”

“No, I did not,” Elizabeth replied, surprised by the coincidence.

“Her daughter, Lady Anne, and he have been betrothed since their infancy.”

Poor Caroline! Elizabeth almost snorted before composing herself and asking, “What sort of girl is she?”

“A frail thing really. She might have been handsome like the rest of the Fitzwilliams if she were not ill so often. Horrible temper, just like her mother. And quite condescending.”

“Mr. Darcy and Lady Anne seem perfect for each another then,” she said with no small amount of triumph in her voice. He shall get what he deserves after all!

“Miss Bennet, you and I are of similar minds,” Wickham said with a grin. “Poor thing. She does not know what she is in for.” He shook his head sadly. “I trust you, Elizabeth. I want you to know the truth about Mr. Darcy.”

He reached over and placed his hand over hers. Elizabeth blushed and broke eye contact. The sensation of his warm hand over hers was overwhelming. Coupled with the use of her given name, Elizabeth was too flustered to think very much about the indelicacy of the situation. She felt flattered that he would share such intimate information with her and wondered idly what made her more than `tolerable' to a man so engaging in his manners and so compassionate in his mien.

“Please do not think less of me for revealing this secret…there was this girl.” Wickham paused, inhaling slowly. “She was the most beautiful creature in the world.”

Elizabeth smiled wanly at this. The feeling of Wickham's hand on hers diminished in its initial power but she squeezed it lightly nonetheless.

“You must think me a pathetic, love-sick imbecile!” he said with a short laugh. “But, you see...there was something in her eyes that always made my heart ache. Perhaps it is true what they say, the eyes are the windows to our souls. Perhaps, not. But, Winter...she had the most exquisite pair. They were a stormy blue, framed by these long thick lashes. I used to swear that I could drown in them.”

“You sound like you were very much in love with her.”

“And I was.”

“Might I...” Elizabeth did not know what to say. His story sounded quite personal and she felt it was not proper for her to inquire. Yet, the curiosity was swiftly cutting through her with each passing moment.

“You are probably wondering what this is all about. How Winter plays a part in the rift between Darcy and I.” Wickham twisted his mouth into a bitter smile. “I was in love with her and she with me. But her father was dying, she had no place to go and I had little to offer. Darcy knew I loved her, he knew I wanted her as my wife and that is why he did it. That is why he offered his hand to her.”

Elizabeth gasped. Her eyes were riveted to the hand that held hers and she saw nothing of Wickham's expression as he spoke. “She saw through his scheme. I know it. There is no doubt in my mind that she was not fooled by him. I also know that she was quite insulted by it, that she was ready to refuse him and marry me instead. Only...if only, Darcy had not been so determined to hurt me. He threatened her father, he threatened to turn them out. And he had the power to do it. That is why she accepted. She trapped herself in a loveless marriage for the sake of her father.”

“This cannot be! How could he have done this to you? Just because of some childhood jealously!” Elizabeth's eyes sparkled with rage.

Wickham nodded gravely at her. “I have thought that for many years myself. I never thought it was possible, that someone could be so purely...evil.”

“I never knew Mr. Darcy was married,” Elizabeth commented, not knowing quite how to respond.

“He is not married. He used to be. She died about a year after the wedding. Broken heart, I suppose.”

Placing her other hand on top of Mr. Wickham's, Elizabeth leaned in and stated quite simply, “You are truly a wonderful man who does not deserve such torture. Thank you for telling me your story and for giving me such a warning. I assure you that I shall never be fooled by the likes of Mr. Darcy.”

“Right...” Wickham replied somewhat distractedly as looked down the front of Elizabeth's dress.

Chapter 3

Posted on Sunday, 10 July 2005

“And what is there to see in Hertfordshire, my dear, Mr. Lucas?”

“My family...but you shall keep your distance from my sisters.” William Lucas threatened his friend in jest.

“Do you not want us to be brothers?”

William shook his head. “The way you are with women, Harold? You shall break the hearts of all the Lucas women and the crying will never cease.”

His companion laughed in reply, shifting his luggage on his shoulder. “I suppose I shall have to find other distractions outside Lucas Lodge.”

“Depend upon it, you do not have to look far. The Bennet ladies can keep one very occupied.” A dreamy look crossed William Lucas's face and it cost Harold all his naval skills to keep from laughing.

“Indeed?” Harold said, lifting his sandy eyebrows in anticipation.

“It has been some years since I have last seen them but trust me, friend, Jane Bennet is the jewel of the county and her sister was quite promising as well.”

“Well, I have seen my share of beautiful women and we shall have to see if this Jane Bennet is all that one makes of her.”

“You will not be disappointed my friend,” Lucas said with a wide smile.

“Was this the girl you used to write poetry to?”

“The one and only but then, I was shipped off. Who knows if she was even affected by it or not.”

Harold looked at his friend. Whether this lady was affected by William Lucas or not, it was clear that William Lucas was affected by her.

“My dear boy!” Lady Lucas greeted her son with a loving hug. She then kissed his cheek for enough moments as to have him blush with embarrassment.

“Mother, please.” Lieutenant Lucas disengaged himself from his mother before introducing his companion to his family.

All of them were quite impressed by Captain Harold. He was not a handsome fellow but he was by no means not pleasant-looking. He was rather tall and thinly built but did not seem to lack in strength. His hair was a mixture of dark yellows and light browns and his straight nose was adorned with freckles.

“It is a real pleasure to have you here, Captain,” Sir Lucas said, shaking his hand enthusiastically and thinking what a great thing this could be for his Charlotte.

“The pleasure is all mine, I assure you,” Harold replied, wary of the glint in his host's eye.

A young Geoffrey Lucas came up to the pair and titled his head back in order to look at this gentleman. “Are you going to save my sister from 'insterhood? That's what Mother says. If no one comes around, then she will be an ole maid!”

Captain Harold did not know how to respond to the boy. He was slightly amused and slightly embarrassed. Sir Lucas looked as though he were suffering from apoplexy, his eye twitching dangerously at his son, and his cheeks puffing in and out like a fish he once saw in tropical waters. Charlotte, whom Harold assumed was the plain, slightly overweight, girl next to Lady Lucas, went quite pale though she still remained marginally composed. Lady Lucas was red in the face and most of the Lucas children were trying hard not to laugh, including the Lieutenant.

“I must say, I am not sure if I will do just that. I had intended to vacation here and not much else,” Harold finally replied.

“Alright,” Geoffrey replied with a shrug. It looked like his sister was destined to be an old maid.

Chapter 4

“Oh, Lizzy, how can you smile like that?” Jane admonished, making a very valiant effort not to smile herself.

“I know it is awful, Jane, but I cannot help it,” Elizabeth replied before she burst into giggles.

“She must have been so humiliated.”

Elizabeth acknowledged this but she could not abate her laughter. “All those emotions and thoughts that must have occurred when Geoffrey said that! I wonder what went through each person's mind.”

“Why must marriage be such an issue as it is?” Jane sighed, her tone carrying a slight melancholy that her sister could not miss.

Elizabeth instantly sobered. “Oh Jane, are you worried about William Lucas?”

Jane placed her hands on her lap and looked evenly at her sister. “I am worried about a lot of things, Lizzy. Yes, I am worried that Lieutenant Lucas may still harbor feelings for me and what will occur when we finally meet again. But I am also worried about how I shall act around Mr. Bingley and whether he shall ask me for the first two dances or not. And I am worried about the way our family will behave during the ball. What if they make a spectacle of themselves?” she asked, her eyes closing momentarily in frustration. “But most of all, I am worried about the way you have taken Mr. Wickham's word for truth when you know nothing of this man except what he has told you.”

“Well,” Elizabeth breathed. “You are worried about a lot of things, my love.”

“Lizzy...”

“Don't you fret about William Lucas, my dear. It has been five years! A lot has happened since then and hopefully, he has improved upon his poetry writing.” The sisters laughed at this while Elizabeth continued, “You have already charmed Mr. Bingley so just smile and enjoy yourself. He will be too busy with you to notice our family and I will be there to help if required. As for Mr. Wickham, Jane...there was truth in his looks.”

“There must have been a misunderstanding between him and Mr. Darcy.”

“A misunderstanding like that is hardly possible.”

“You have not even allowed Mr. Darcy to explain himself.”

“What is there to explain? He would deny it all anyway,” she replied with conviction.

“JANE! JANE!” Mrs. Bennet's voice pierced through the house. “Four hours till the ball is to begin! Have you begun yet?”

The sisters beheld their mother climbing the stairs at a hurried pace.

“Four hours, Jane. We must get you ready,” Elizabeth said with a smile.

“If it takes me four hours to prepare for a ball, Lizzy, I must look quite a fright.”

“Miss Bingley must begin a week in an advance then.”

“Lizzy!” her sister admonished but this time, she could not help but smile.

Chapter 5

“Do you not find this company tiresome?” Caroline Bingley hissed into Darcy's ear, her black feathers flapping above her head.

“Indeed,” he replied through clenched teeth. Yourself included, madam. He eyed the feathers momentarily, idly wondering how the ton could consider a poor bird's tail fashionable.

“I do not understand how Charles can tolerate these country bumpkins,” she yawned, edging closer to the gentleman, her feathers now hitting him in the face.

I do not understand how he can tolerate YOU, Miss Bingley. Darcy was gritting his teeth now. He pushed himself against the wall, trying to avoid Caroline's headdress.

“And that one over there,” she sneered, her gaze focused on a petite brunette. “I believe you said she was barely tolerable, did you not?”

“I say many things,” Darcy snorted and walked away. He could not deal with her this evening, not when it was so close to...

So preoccupied was Darcy that he paid no mind to what, or who, he was walking into. “Oh, my apologies, Miss Bennet. I did not see you there.”

“No, I am too blame, Mr. Darcy. I was preoccupied.”

Darcy smiled ever so slightly at her response. “Please, do not distress yourself. The fault is entirely my own and I, as a gentleman, take all blame for it.”

“Well, if you so insist,” she said with a curtsey.

“Has Bingley secured you for the first two dances?” he inquired, politely.

“Um, no, he has not.”

Darcy was surprised at her response and even more so by the brief flutter of disappointment that crossed Jane Bennet's face. “Oh, that is quite singular. Who could he be dancing with?” he asked more to himself than of her.

“Julia Long...um, I think.” Jane hoped her discontent was not too evident though she feared it was written all over her.

“Miss Jane!”

Both Jane and Darcy turned at the call. A Naval officer was walking towards them and Mr. Darcy was all astonishment to hear Miss Bennet groan.

“I gather that that gentleman is not a favorite of-“ Darcy cut himself off as this man came within hearing range.

“Miss Jane! It is so good to see you again! You look very well.” Lucas cried enthusiastically, grabbing one of Jane's white hands and pressing a kiss to it.

Jane blushed at his forwardness under the scrutiny of Mr. Bingley's good friend. This was not how she imagined her evening would unfold.

“Thank you, Lieutenant Lucas. Mr. Darcy, I would like you to meet the Lucas' eldest son.”

William Lucas looked at the man standing beside Jane. So consumed was he by the sight of Jane, he did not initially notice the gentleman whose very mien screamed wealth and nobility. He was a tall man though not of towering height. He had a strong jaw, straight nose, and slight tan. His eyes were dark though possibly hazel and his hair was straight and near black. Impeccable clothes too, Lucas considered with a raised eyebrow, not wanting to pay too much attention on Darcy's rather striking features.

“Mr. Darcy, if you will excuse me, I would like to secure Miss Bennet's hand for the first two dances.”

“I am afraid that is not possible.”

“Excuse me?” Lucas managed to choke out.

“I have already been promised those dances that you refer to by Miss Bennet before you arrived.” Darcy offered Jane his arm as the music began. “Shall we, Miss Bennet?”

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” Jane mumbled, half-stunned by the entire situation. She took his arm and nodded to an equally shocked Lieutenant Lucas.

“I hope you do not find me presumptuous for offering myself as...” Darcy began as they were out of earshot.

“As a savior?” she offered.

Darcy chuckled lightly. “Well, I would not go so far as that unless he is in fact so troubling to you.”

“No, it is not that.”

Jane and Darcy took their places in the set and so engrossed in their conversation were they that they did not notice the stares that were directed in their direction.

Mrs. Bennet was prepared to fall out of her seat. Mr. Darcy! Mr. Darcy! Why is she standing up with that...oh, ten thousand a year! Possibly more! Good job, my girl!

Bingley, on the other hand, was not so happy about the circumstances. He had not only been manipulated to dance the first two sets with Julia Long but the next two with Penny Long. It's nothing, Bing. C'mon, Darcy knows where your interest lays. He would never...but he despises dancing! Why is he dancing?

Lieutenant Lucas was simply fuming. Who was this man?

Caroline was beet red. What traps did this girl lie to get herself dancing with her Mr. Darcy? To think, I called her a sweet girl! I even pretended to be her friend!

Luckily, Elizabeth was too busy avoiding the clumsy feet of her cousin, Collins, to note this odd arrangement of couples. She simply took for granted that Jane was dancing with Bingley.

“Oh, it is nothing,” Jane was saying.

“Are you certain? By the tone of your voice, it does not sound like nothing,” said Darcy, slightly concerned at the unease that disrupted her usually serene face.

Jane was on the verge of replying, of letting her carefully held angst out, but held herself back as she thought of how improper it would be for her to do so. Could she really find a confidante in Mr. Darcy? At this thought, she laughed.

“May I ask was is so humorous, Miss Bennet?”

“Mr. Darcy, I hope you shall not be offended but could you imagine yourself as my confidante?”

He did not say anything for some moments but finally, he replied gravely, “As a matter of fact, Miss Bennet, I can.” His expression soften as he explained, “You remind me of my sister. I suppose I have inhabited the role of a protective older brother, or as she would say, I am sure, overprotective older brother, for far too long and too well.”

“Oh! How old is she?”

“But sixteen.”

“I suppose, as there are only two of you, that much is shared.”

“Indeed.”

“Has she ever come to you with affairs concerning young men?”

“A few times. I had hoped my wife would be the one to deal with it but...” Darcy paused. He had not mentioned his wife in a long time. He could not comprehend how he had let it slip so suddenly.

They were quiet for a full ten minutes. When they turned towards one another again, Jane looked into Mr. Darcy's eyes, the pain swimming in its dark pools, and stated simply, “I am sorry about your wife.”

“What do you know of it?” Mr. Darcy asked curiously.

“I must say, I have a lot to confess.” The mirth of such a situation caused her mouth to twist in a slight smile.

“I never thought Jane Bennet would have so many secrets,” he replied with arched brows.

Jane laughed heartily at his expression and drew the attention of many, including Elizabeth who gasped at 1) Jane dancing with the hated Mr. Darcy, 2) Jane enjoying herself with the hated Mr. Darcy, and 3) Mr. Collins stomping on her foot.

Bingley, watching the happy couple, ran into his neighbor whom he apologized to in a vague and careless manner. His sister, meanwhile, turned away from the scene in search of Mrs. Hurst and ran into a decorative pillar.

“Do you recall that conversation about poetry you had with my sister?”

Darcy lifted an eyebrow.

“It was the day my mother had come to Netherfield. Lizzy told me that the two of you debated on the merits of poetry, of whether it was the food of love or rather, the force that drives it away.”

“Yes, your mother mentioned that a man once wrote lovely verses for you,” he teased.

Jane blushed at this. “It was five years ago, before William Lucas went off to the Navy.”

“Ahh,” Darcy replied with understanding. “Was there anything between you two?” Darcy bit his lip at his own forwardness. He had not been so open with a woman, other than his sister, for a long time. He had even closed himself off to his other female relations.

But Jane seemed far from offended. She looked intently at his eyes and said, “There had been some feelings expressed on his side, but I had no inclination towards an old family friend. Do you ever...oh, never mind.”

“How shall I become a proper confidante if you are not completely honest and open about all?” Darcy stated in mock horror.

Jane smiled. Lizzy, you are wrong about this man... “Do you remember that first night, when I was ill at Netherfield and you sent me that chicken broth?”

“How did you know it was me?” queried Darcy, increasingly astonished at all the things this quiet woman knew.

“Because the maid expressed her surprise at your request!”

“And I thought the servants could be trusted,” Darcy said with a sniff.

“They were quite impressed with you.”

“And annoyed at bothering them at that unholy hour, I suspect. Anyhow, you were keeping me up with at that dreadful coughing. I was about to sleep in the library if I did not think I would hear you still.”

Jane emitted a giggle at his forlorn response. “I knew, at that moment, you were a friend of mine. Just like I knew the instant I read one of William Lucas' verses that I could not return the feelings he felt for me.”

“And what of your feelings when you first met Mr. Bingley?”

“Mr. Darcy!” Jane blushed profusely.

“Well?” he said challengingly.

“I knew that I would like to know him very well indeed.”

“Fair enough,” Darcy said with a nod. “And my wife? How did you...”

“I am afraid such news would make you rather unhappy.”

“I would rather have the truth,” Darcy replied, feeling a familiar ache rise in his chest.

A troubled look settled on Jane's face and confusion soon enveloped Darcy. She was silent for a few minutes before she spoke again. “Could you trust me in holding this off for a while?”

The dance ended. Darcy nodded and then bowed formally. “Of course, Miss Bennet. I am at your service.” He then escorted her off the dance floor where she was accosted by Lieutenant Lucas. Darcy smiled sympathetically and stationed himself as far away from the dance floor as he could for the rest of the night.

Title

By Author

The Glass Swan - Revised Chapters 6-10 Posted on Friday, 15 July 2005

Chapter 6

“Jane certainly charmed a great many men last night!” Mrs. Bennet cried, clapping her hands together in excitement.

Jane suddenly found her breakfast to be of particular interest.

“My dear daughter, I do not believe you have ever looked so intently at eggs before!” Mr. Bennet said with a slight grin.

“Well, it is too often that I eat eggs without giving them a proper inspection. I thought I might as well do it today.”

Mr. Bennet chuckled at her response. Jane rarely displayed her wit in front of her mother and younger sisters. He decided to provoke her further.

“What say you of Mr. Darcy? Do you think you prefer him to Mr. Bingley for he does have advantages that the other lacks...” Mr. Bennet trailed off.

“I am sure Mr. Bingley has advantages that Mr. Darcy lacks,” she replied neutrally.

“Does that mean you prefer Mr. Bingley then?”

“I have stated neither case, Papa. All I have done is present you with a fair argument of both.”

“Well, child, what do you think? To be sure, Mr. Bingley is very nice young man indeed, but compared to Mr. Darcy's value, he is nothing!” Mrs. Bennet twittered excitedly.

“Is that what you said yesterday before the ball? Your declaration is not remotely familiar but perhaps, I am mistaken.” Jane quickly left her seat, leaving an amused Mr. Bennet and a most stunned entourage of female relatives behind.

Elizabeth came down the stairs two at a time and landed with a solid thud. She had not slept well, thinking of the odd occurrences of last night, including Jane's reluctance to speak of the ball.

“Well, someone slept the morning away!”

“My apologizes, Mother,” Elizabeth replied with a roll of her eyes. “Where is Jane? I would like to speak to her.”

“I cannot quite say. Your sister stormed out of the house in the middle of breakfast. It was quite disturbing!”

Stormed out of the house? Jane? It was hardly credible! Elizabeth turned to her mother in order to protest such a ridiculous statement but found herself face-to-face with the greasy Mr. Collins.

“Ah, Cousin Elizabeth, I see that you have awoken from your beauty sleep. It is apparent to me that you are in need of lots of it!”

“How gracious of you to say that,” Elizabeth replied sardonically.

“Lizzy, my dear girl, Mr. Collins has requested a private audience with you this morning,” Mrs. Bennet said with a smile before she stated very sternly, “So, sit down and listen.”

Elizabeth Bennet had never been so glad to miss breakfast in her twenty years. She did not trust the heaving of her stomach as Mr. Collins knelt before her.

“Mr. Collins, my feelings in every respect forbid it!” Nothing that Elizabeth had said could dissuade her cousin. He believed himself in love with her. And worse, that she welcomed his advances. It made her shudder with disgust.

When Mr. Collins moved to embrace her with his sweaty hands, Elizabeth stormed out. Where was Jane? She climbed the stairs to find her sister's room empty. She made quick work of the climb down and headed outdoors.

Jane was nowhere to be found. She was not in the gardens and Jane would not walk to Oakham Mount without first informing her. Elizabeth turned in every which way, undecided upon her destination. She finally spun around with her eyes closed and when she stopped, she was facing the direction of Lucas Lodge. And there she was to go.

“Ahh, if it is not one of the famed Bennet daughters of Longbourn.”

The approach of Captain Harold made Elizabeth pause and administer a quick curtsey.

“Famed, sir?” she queried as she lifted her head.

“For beauty, madam. For beauty,” Harold said formally though a warm smile soon suffused his face.

“Your words are of no good to my vanity,” she replied with a slight blush.

“Are you accusing me of mere flattery, Miss Bennet?”

“Miss Elizabeth. I am only the second eldest.”

“My apologizes. I hope I have not offended you by complimenting you and then addressing you erroneously.”

Elizabeth found she very much liked the way he smirked at her. She tried to avert her gaze but it was captured most readily by Captain Harold's blue eyes.

“Um, Miss Elizabeth?”

“Yes?” she replied, somewhat dazed.

“Are you here to visit Miss Charlotte?”

“Charlotte? Oh, yes! But, actually, I think I should be returning home,” Elizabeth mumbled before turning abruptly.

“Would you allow me to escort you?” He held out his arm.

She took it with a smile. “But of course.”

Chapter 7

Darcy plucked a rose from its bush. He pulled off the thorns by habit, not really putting much consideration into what he was doing.

He remembered doing this for Winter. He flung the rose to the ground and continued with his morning walk. It was always there, in the back of his mind. His wife, his wife....

He no longer had a wife.

“Mr. Darcy!”

Darcy, startled from his thoughts, looked at the source of this intrusion with considerable malice. Jane Bennet backed up in astonishment. She never saw anyone emanate such strong emotions before.

“Miss Bennet.” He blinked with care and when he opened his eyes, all of the hardness had dissipated.

“My apologies, sir. I did not mean to disturb you.”

“No, Miss Bennet. I was just...thinking..." He offered Jane his arm and they took a casual stroll about the gardens. "And how are you doing this morning?”

“I—am doing well,” she replied, hesitant to lie to him. “And how are you?” she queried.

Darcy smiled feebly in response. He had rather much be alone with his thoughts but he graciously asked about her family.

“Oh…they are getting on well enough, I suppose.”

Darcy, alerted to the disquiet on Jane's usually serene face by her strained voice, said frankly, “Please interrupt me if you find me presumptuous in making such a comment, but you seem out of sorts. I do not pretend that I am an expert in judging character. In fact, I do believe I am quite horrible at it, but...you do not seem yourself today. In the month that I have been here and have taken morning and evening walks amongst the grounds of Netherfield, I have seen your sister involved in such activity but you never.”

Jane did not reply, surprised at Darcy's perceptivity or perhaps, her own transparency.

Darcy, fearing he might have offended her, added in hopes of gaining her confidence, “You are not like the women with whom I have become accustomed to in society. As you may recall me telling you the other night, I thought you quite like my sister. Gina is shyer than you are but she has the same tendency to be,” and here he smiled in an arched manner, “sickeningly sweet and always thinking well of others.”

“Sickeningly sweet?” Jane asked with a smile, marveling at the ease with which he teased her.

“What ails you, Miss Bennet?” Darcy inquired with a tenderness that quite unnerved Jane.

“Nothing more than having to deal with my family so early in the morning,” she sighed as they continued on with their walk.

Chapter 8

Both Jane and Elizabeth returned to Longbourn with daydream clouding their eyes. They practically ran into one another on the lane leading up to their home.

Before either of them could say anything, the cries of the household caught their attention.

“What troubles the women of Longbourn this time?” Elizabeth muttered with a roll of her eyes.

“Elizabeth Bennet! This is all your fault!” A crying Lydia screeched when they entered the foyer.

Mrs. Bennet tried to comfort her youngest daughter but it was to no avail. “This is the way it must be, my love. You have to do this for our family! Just think, once your poor father dies, Mr. Collins will-”

“I do not care what that toady Mr. Collins will do to us when Papa dies! I will not marry him!”

Jane gasped while Elizabeth stared at the scene before her. Lydia, to marry Mr. Collins! It was preposterous, even more so than she marrying their awful cousin herself!

“Lydia, enough of this. Mr. Collins has chosen you as his wife and so it will be,” Mr. Bennet said firmly. “Now, be quiet so I can read my book!”

“He chose Lizzy first!” Lydia pointed a trembling finger at her elder sister. “Do you forget so easily Papa? You will not allow your favorite daughter be taken away by Mr. Collins. But Lydia, Lydia whom you have never loved, whom you would never miss, she can have her fate sealed by such an odious man!”

With those words, she ran upstairs. Lizzy shuddered in horror at the fate her youngest sister would have to face but could not bring herself to sacrifice her own person even for her family. She looked at Jane and she knew that even dear sweet Jane could not do the same.

The ale shot out in a great splutter from Denny's mouth.

“What's the matter with you?” Wickham growled, wiping himself distractedly.

“It's Miss Lydia.”

“What about her?” His interest was slightly piqued but not overtly so.

“She's engaged.”

“Oh,” he replied. Well, there are plenty of other girls… He eyed a well-built serving girl over Denny's shoulder. Like that barmaid…

“To Mr. Collins.”

“What?!” This time Wickham was the one who nearly choked on his ale.

“My thoughts exactly.” Denny looked at the announcements again. “What a shame! I must admit, she was no favorite of mine, but it's not right. A lively girl like that marrying such a fool.”

The news of Lydia's engagement traveled throughout Meryton within hours of its announcement. The officers mourned her lost while matrons breathed a sigh of relief. Most sent the young girl their condolences.

“Miss Lydia Bennet!” Caroline giggled. “Oh, I can barely contain myself.”

“Poor girl,” her sister sighed. She looked at her prostrate husband. Already drunk at ten in the morning. “Poor girl.”

“I think it is such great fun. Such a shame that he could not procure the hand of Miss Eliza Bennet instead.”

Darcy tightened his fists under the table. He was hard pressed in making Caroline Bingley shut that squawking mouth of hers.

“What do you think of it, Mr. Darcy? Do you not find amusement in such news?”

“Not at all, Miss Bingley.” He stood up and bowed. “I am of the same sentiment as Mrs. Hurst. Good day.”

“Darcy!”

“Yes, Bingley?” He swiveled around easily though he had been in mid-stride.

“I am quitting Netherfield.”

Bingley could almost see the wheels pause within Darcy's head. He was silent, contemplative, before he pierced his friend with his dark eyes.

“Do not look at me like that,” Bingley replied uncomfortably.

Darcy blinked at Bingley's blonde curls. “Look at you like what?”

“Oh, never mind.”

“Is this a permanent move?”

“Yes. I believe so.”

“Your lease-“

“Oh, who cares about the lease?! I want to leave,” he declared impatiently.

“If that is your wish,” Darcy replied slowly. “When?”

“By the end of this week, if possible.”

“What about the wedding?”

“And what of the wedding, Darce? I barely know the girl. I have only been in the area for a little over a month. I will never see these people again. What of the wedding?”

Bingley was almost red with frustration. Darcy had rarely ever seen his friend in such a mood. It greatly unsettled him and more so when he thought of Jane Bennet's reaction to their quick departure.

“I would like to stay...for the wedding, if you do not mind.”

“Of course. Of course.” There was a cryptic tone in Bingley's voice as he walked off.

Chapter 9

“You seem rather quiet today, Miss Elizabeth.”

The said lady smiled wanly at Captain Harold. She truly enjoyed his company, even more than Wickham's. Though he was not nearly as handsome as the other officer, he provided her with infinitely better conversation.

“Perhaps, if you would like to share your pains...it may ease the burden.”

“Captain Harold, you are too good,” she replied with a slight laugh. “Oh, do you think my sister will ever forgive me?”

“I shall assume that you believe Miss Lydia shan't be happy as the wife of Mr. Collins.”

“I doubt that anyone could be.”

“It is not very uncommon for people to marry in order to better their circumstances in some way,” Harold reasoned.

“But Lydia has no possibility of being happy,” Elizabeth replied sadly.

“You never know. She has all the happiness that one could ask for in a suitable marriage. To be sure, Mr. Collins does not cut a dashing figure in a red coat, but he is not an evil man. He will treat her well, if not love her, and he will give her a good home. They will learn to live together and they could very well learn to respect one another. Love can even grow from this,” Harold said. Then added, “if you are romantic enough to believe in it.”

“I do not believe anyone could be that romantic,” she laughed.

“It is good to hear you laugh, Miss Elizabeth. Laughter helps with many things. And you must concede, there are worst things in life than such a marriage.”

“Yes,” cried Elizabeth suddenly. “You could be separated from the one you love by the one you hate.”

Harold was surprised by her vehemence but only nodded in reply.

Long after Elizabeth and Captain Harold separated, he was thinking of her hearty and bitter statement: You could be separated from the one you love by the one you hate. Was this a misfortune that she had suffered?

“Where have you been Captain? Courting the lovely Elizabeth Bennet?”

Harold turned at the voice of his subordinate. He saw him cutting across the field with his elder sister trying desperately to catch up.

“Is that how you treat your family, Lucas?” He walked pass William Lucas to offer an arm to Charlotte. “Good day, ma'am.”

“Captain Harold,” Charlotte replied heavily.

“May I escort you back to Lucas Lodge?”

“Of course, sir,” she replied, bowing her head.

“Will you not come to the wedding?” Elizabeth asked as she walked with Wickham in Meryton a few days later.

“If you have extended the invitation to me, then I would be delighted to come,” Wickham smiled, all the while trying to look down her dress.

“Good, for I am in need of a friend. Captain Harold will be leaving us for finer pursuits in London and so will be unable to attend.”

“Captain Harold?” Wickham halted suddenly.

“Do you know him?”

“Um, no, I do not. He sounds rather familiar.”

“He arrived the day prior to the Netherfield Ball with Lieutenant Lucas. Are you familiar with the latter?” Elizabeth continued when he replied in the negative. “He is the eldest son, Charlotte's brother. He once had some strong feelings for my sister, Jane, for which, I allow, is of no great astonishment. But I digress; Captain Harold is Lieutenant Lucas' superior and particular friend. He has been vacationing in Hertfordshire but I am afraid we shall lose his company very soon.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” Wickham said with as much sincerity as he could muster.

Chapter 10

I understand you must be very upset. But she wasn't! She should be upset that Bingley was to quit Netherfield but Jane was more concerned with the loss of Darcy rather than her supposed favorite.

“...can be rash but never like this. I cannot begin to comprehend it! I have meditated upon this situation for quite some time and have yet to make a conclusion that is remotely satisfying.”

“What makes you so concern about his actions?”

“Are you not concerned, Miss Bennet?” Darcy cried in astonishment.

“How do they affect me, Mr. Darcy? Mr. Bingley is his own man. He can do as please.”

“Is he allowed to break hearts as he pleases?”

“He is not breaking any hearts,” she replied flatly.

Darcy was thrown off by the manner in which Jane made her statement. There had been no tremble in her voice, no undercurrent of emotion. She had been completely calm, as though she had made a comment about the weather. Surely he was not mistaken, was he? “Miss Bennet, I do not doubt that you are a woman who does not give away her heart easily. You could have been married by now, to Lieutenant Lucas or any of many other men.” He took one of her delicate hands and held them between his own two. “But you believe in love, do you not? I know there were feelings between you and Bingley once. I have observed the two of you ignore the rest of the world. Yet, since the Netherfield Ball, there has been a change. You do not welcome his company as you did before and he has been different as well. Perhaps it has something to do with his retreat from Hertfordshire. Tell me, Miss Bennet, what has occurred since the Netherfield Ball? What has changed? Has there been a misunderstanding? Has one of your hearts changed?”

“I do believe-” Jane replied in a gasping, wistful voice. “I do believe my heart has changed or perhaps, it never truly belonged to anyone before...until...”

“For a perceptive man such as yourself, Darce, I do not understand how you did not see this!”

Darcy started and turned to look at Bingley. He was staring at Jane with hard eyes. Jane, in the meantime, was avoiding the eyes of both men by casting her own to the ground.

Why did you not see it Darcy? Because you did not want to. He instantly dropped Jane's hand and backed away. He shook his head, looking between the immobile Bingley and the trembling Jane. “No, no, no..”

“So there you have it, Darce. There is your answer.”

“Miss Bennet,” Darcy pleaded. “Tell my friend that he is wrong. Tell him, I beg of you.”

“He is not wrong, Mr. Darcy,” Jane replied, tears falling rapidly from her eyes.

“You do not want her?” Bingley asked with quiet incredulity.

“She is yours.”

Bingley closed the library door and locked it. He knew very well that Caroline tried to listen in whenever Darcy and him were having a discussion but this was a conversation he would not have his sister hear. He walked to stand across from the sullen pensive man sunk in the armchair.

“I beg to differ. She is not mine. She has declared it herself.”

“She is yours. She loved you not so long ago. One cannot forget so easily.” Easily, easily... The word seemed to rattle within his skull.

“Not until you came along and swept her off her feet,” Bingley muttered bitterly, looking away.

“I do not love her.”

“She is a beautiful and sweet creature. She is the most magnificent woman I have ever known,” Bingley declared, speaking to himself rather than to his friend. While he did not want Darcy to take Jane away from him (though it seemed too late), it felt natural for him to defend her.

“It's not enough.” Darcy stood up and looked down at his shorter companion. He opened his mouth to speak but hesitated. He finally took a deep breath before pronouncing, “I was once married.”

Bingley backed up in surprise. “Really?” He had never known this about his friend, though they had attended University together and never separated since.

“Do you know what I married for?”

He shrugged. By the look on Darcy's face, it was not love. “Beauty? Money? Connections?”

“I married her because I pitied her. Charles, I married for no reason of my own. I married out of pity.”

Chapter 11

Posted on Monday, 25 July 2005

Jane could not look into his mournful eyes. To know that she had caused such suffering! “I hope, Mr. Bingley, that this will not be our last meeting.”

Bingley took in a sharp breath. She wanted to meet him again as Mrs. Darcy. He closed his eyes briefly, clinging onto the one hope his friend gave him: the promise that he would not seek a wife in Jane Bennet. “May I...”

“Yes?” She twisted her hands in discomfort.

“If you are still free in a year, could I come back? Would you allow me to come back for you?”

The wind was harsh that morning and it whistled violently through the trees. Jane grabbed onto the ends of her bonnet before reaching out with one hand to grab one of his own. She squeezed it, then turned and ran.

She ran all the way back to Longbourn. She rushed through the kitchen door, breathless. All the Bennets were having breakfast.

“Jane, you look absolutely wild!” her mother cried.

Indeed, she did. She had lost her bonnet long ago and her hair had loosen during the run. The wind left her cheeks red and stung her teary eyes.

“Jane, what is-” Before Elizabeth could finish, her sister ran upstairs. She moved to follow.

“Jane! Jane!”

“Go away, Lizzy!”

“But-”

“Let me be!” she cried as she slammed the door shut.

Elizabeth was all astonishment. Jane had never shouted at her in such a manner. Jane never shouted at all. What had happened? How had the Bennet household become more like a madhouse? She could not even recognize her own sisters anymore.

Chapter 12

The marriage of Lydia Bennet to William Collins was a somber affair.

Mr. Bennet walked his youngest daughter down the aisle. Lydia had flinched when her father had taken her arm but she showed no emotion after that. She was resigned to her fate.

“How could he do this to her?” Jane whispered as she watched baby Lydia walk down the aisle and take her place at the altar, void of all the spirit she was once known for.

The ceremony passed at a slow, agitating pace that ate at everyone who attended it. It finally ended with a slobbering kiss from Mr. Collins to his new wife who turned her face in time for him to miss her lips.

“Well, that was...” Wickham began.

“Horrible,” Elizabeth said miserably, consumed with guilt. She knew Lydia's accusation was the truest thing ever said in their home and though she loved her father, she found him very much at fault in this case. At the same time, she thanked every created thing that he had not forced her to do the very thing that he had forced Lydia to do. She shook her head. Doomed at the tender age of fifteen.

“I think you need to sit down,” he said, gallantly offering his arm.

“Thank you.” Elizabeth took his arm. Wickham guided her to the gardens behind the church. “The reception will take place in but an hour. After that, she will be gone.”

“You sound as though your sister is lost to you.”

“She is lost to me. She has been lost to me ever since her engagement to Mr. Collins.”

“Cheer up, Miss Elizabeth. You are much prettier when you smile.” He placed a finger under her chin, causing her to take in a sharp breath.

“Mr. Wickham.”

“Shhh...” He leaned in to taste her lips.

“George!”

Wickham stood up. Bloody… ”Why, Will, what are you doing in Hertfordshire?”

“I might ask you the same thing. When I learned you were here, in this very county, in this very place in fact, I had to seek you out,” Darcy said with a thin, harsh smile. “It was so very ill of you not to tell me you were here!”

“Had I known...you were at Netherfield, I would have sought you out,” Wickham replied, trying to resist the urge to flee.

“Is that so, George? How did you know I was at Netherfield?”

“How did...how did I know? Why, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, here.”

Elizabeth, who had been watching the scene with much confusion, stood up. What was this all about? Wickham knew that Darcy was in town.

“Lizzy, Lizzy!” Jane came around the corner in a run. When she saw the two men and her sister, she threw a grateful look at Darcy and a threatening one at Wickham. “Lizzy, we must leave immediately.”

Elizabeth was hard press in leaving the scene but obeyed Jane's command nonetheless. It seemed as though she was the only one who had been left out in the dark.

“What was that about?” Elizabeth hissed in Jane's ear as the carriage took their family, with the exception of Lydia, back to Longbourn.

Jane did not reply but looked out of the window instead.

“Jane!” she cried in frustration.

Again, there was no response. It was clear that Jane did not want to discuss it at the moment, in front of the rest of the family, but did that mean she would not discuss it at all? She did not know what to expect from her elder sister anymore.

As opposed to most wedding receptions, there was little gaiety. It was remarked by Geoffrey Lucas that there "shouldn't have...have, had a celebration at all because no one is a celebrating."

Afterwards, as Elizabeth stood beside the gates of Longbourn, where the Bennets had bid their farewells to Lydia and Mr. Collins, Jane walked to stand beside her.

“Wickham seems to have removed himself from Meryton.”

“Removed himself or forced to leave by that insufferable man?” Elizabeth spat.

“Forced to leave by the accumulation of numerous debts on his head,” she said sternly.

There was a long pause in which they stood in a untenable silence. “Jane...who are you?”

“I am your sister. I am your family. I am trying to take care of you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Elizabeth, I have never attempted to interfere with your life. Even when you made mistakes, I allowed you to do as you please. I have always questioned myself but never you. I thought myself either wrong or assumed that you would see the truth on your own accord, but I was presumptuous to think you the better sister. Neither one of us are.”

“Jane, I can hardly understand you.”

“You were wrong about George Wickham.”

“How do you know?” Elizabeth cried.

“Oh, Lizzy, you barely know who I am. These past few weeks have turned our entire lives around. For the best, for the worst, I hardly know.”

“Jane, what is your relationship with Mr. Darcy? Why is he still here and Bingley not?”

“Lizzy,” Jane cried, taking her sister's hands. She paused and finally said, "I am not mourning the loss of Mr. Bingley. I will, oh I already am, mourning the impending loss of another.”

Elizabeth's eyes widen at these implications. “Jane, he has poisoned your mind! He has turned you against Wickham, he has turned you against Mr. Bingley and he has even turned you against me!”

“Oh, how can you think me such a fool?”

The statement startled Elizabeth. How indeed? Her sister, though generally docile and altogether sweet, was not one to be pushed over. No matter what anyone believed, Elizabeth knew Jane was not one to be swayed easily.

“Tell me everything, Jane. Tell me all.”

Jane nodded. She did not bother wiping the tears from her eyes but suggested a walk to Oakham Mount instead.

“I am in love with him,” she sighed.

“Am I to assume that 'him' is Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth asked, her stomach tightening in protest to the prospective answer.

Jane answered in the affirmative. “But he will not have me. Before you say anything, let me start at the beginning. I barely know where the beginning as it is. But as I have told you, I had always thought that you would eventually come to the truth when you were wrong in your perceptions. In the case of Mr. Darcy, I have found that you have been adamant in keeping your early picture of him and perhaps, unlikely to clear yourself of this image on your own. Those many weeks ago, when I had caught that nasty cold on my way to Netherfield, I was sent chicken broth by Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth arched an eyebrow in disbelief. "This information came to me by way of gossiping servants, Lizzy. I must confess, I was quite surprised by this display of compassion. He was a distant man to be sure but always, always polite, with the exception of the Meryton Assembly. He made some mistakes there but I shall explain that later.”

“An explanation for everything, I presume.” The sarcasm in her voice was not lost to Jane but she chose to ignore it.

“I was most strongly affected by him at the Netherfield Ball. Julia Long was engaged for the first two dances with Mr. Bingley. This left me without a partner. It was either Mr. Darcy or Lieutenant Lucas. Seeing my reluctance to dance with the latter, Mr. Darcy kindly offered himself as my partner. He was quite gracious... Lizzy, when you related to me Wickham's story, I knew the same man that helped me during my illness and distress could not be the same man that Mr. Wickham was talking about. I attempted to pass it by as some gross misunderstanding, but you know very well that it could not be. I wanted to discuss the subject with him but feared his reception of such slander.”

“We had a very good time dancing and we spoke on a variety of subjects that night. Suddenly, Mr. Darcy had become my confidante. I even revealed some of my feelings for Mr. Bingley to him! But I soon discovered, as we would walk with one another each morning after the ball, that my fancy for Mr. Bingley was nothing compared to my feelings for Mr. Darcy. I do love him, Lizzy. I can tell by the look on your face that you do not believe me, that you do not think this is possible, but it is.”

“I am not as disillusioned as you think. I have related to him everything that you have related to me concerning Wickham's accusations. Yes, he admits to me that he once had a wife. Her name was Winter Elliot and they were married for a year. He loved her, Lizzy. He did. I can tell by the pain in his eyes. You talk about truth in Wickham's looks. But is it in his eyes? Can you see his face twist up in raw pain when he discusses his misfortunes? When I revealed to him this afternoon, as I have kept it from him, the source of my knowledge concerning himself, he was worried, worried about you, Lizzy. He said that Wickham could not be trusted, he might even go so far as to ruin you. Did he do anything?”

Elizabeth could not believe this tale but she conceded that Wickham did attempt to kiss her.

“Look at the prejudices that you hold! Because of a bad first impression, you have judged him on improper grounds. You trusted Wickham and accepted his story on a mere hour's acquaintance. Even now, I can see you are still ready to defend him though there has never been anything proper in the manner he has acted towards you. Lizzy, alone, behind the church, in the gardens when everyone was leaving for Longbourn, he attempted to kiss you! If Mr. Darcy had not shown up in time, then who knows what else he would have done.”

Elizabeth could discern truth in her words but she would not be defeated so easily. “If I am so wrong in trusting Mr. Wickham, then is it not possible you are wrong in trusting Mr. Darcy?”

“What does he have to gain from it? If he is so arrogant and above his company, he has no need to impress anyone.”

“Perhaps he wants you, my dear sister,” Elizabeth replied desperately.

“If only. Did I not tell you that he will not have me? Not as a wife, not even as a mistress.”

Elizabeth gasped. “You did not offer yourself to him as that, did you?”

“No, but he made it very clear to me that he thought me as a sister. A sister! It is even worse than considering me a friend.”

“Did he ever go into his relationship with his wife?”

“It is no doubt a delicate subject. I did not wish to pry.”

“Then I must remain firm in my opinion of Mr. Darcy, though I shall reconsider Mr. Wickham's behavior. You are clouded by your love for him, Jane, and faulty in your judgment of these men.”

“Then I'm sorry you think that. Your pride is much greater than you will acknowledge.”

Chapter 13

Darcy, having learned that Wickham was in the area, worried over his apparent influence in Meryton and the surrounding countryside. Jane begged him to do something about the situation and he promised her that he would. He went straight to Colonel Forster and the ladies of Meryton would soon enough lament the lost of their former favorite who was too busy cleaning up the mess hall to cause much trouble.

"Do you think you can rid yourself of me so easily, Fitzwilliam?"

"I have no desire to rid myself of you. I simply want to ride alone."

"You know, Will, there is no one around. Anything could happen," Wickham grinned, his eyes glittering darkly.

Will chose not to respond. He continued at an easy trot. After all, he had ridden Polo at a hard gallop in order to, yes, rid himself of Wickham.

"Who would be the future heir of Pemberley if you were dead? Would it pass onto your sister? That I doubt. What about your cousin, Richard?" George teased at the stony features of Fitzwilliam Darcy. "Or perhaps, it will go to your father's favorite?"

"And who would be Mr. Darcy's favorite, George?" The new voice startled the pair.

George eyed the older boy with angry green eyes. "Go away, can't you see I'm having a private conversation with Will?"

"Say, Fitz, is this a private conversation?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

George spat on the ground before turning his horse in another direction, away from the two who were already bantering with one another.

Darcy sat on his horse. He was ready to go, having sent his things ahead of him in the carriage. He did not want to speak with Jane but knew he must for her sake, and perhaps, a little for Bingley's.

“Thank you for all that you have done.”

“Please, I beg of you, Miss Bennet, do not thank me for anything. I have only done my duty.” Darcy shook his head. He had always done his duty.

“I shall miss you.”

“Miss Bennet, please...”

“I am sorry. I only speak the truth,” she replied, focusing on Darcy's handsome features, trying to store them in her memory.

“I do not think you speak the truth. I am sorry if it pains you, Miss Bennet, but I stepped in during a time of distress. I gave you aid in a brotherly fashion, and now you find yourself fancying me. This...it shall pass,” he ended, thinking he concluded rather lamely.

“Is this how you deal with women who do not interest you?” she said with a hint of a teasing smile.

“I ignore women such as Caroline Bingley,” he cried pointedly.

Jane was able to laugh though she could not remain in a humorous mood. “Are you certain that my affections will not last or is it simply a hope you entertain?”

“Miss Bennet, let us not part on such terms as this.”

“What sort of terms do you expect us to part in?”

“I do not know what to expect. I only desire us to be on good terms.”

“We are on good terms.”

The horse began to whine. Darcy adjusted the reins before looking down at the fair Miss Bennet. “You are truly a wonderful person, Miss Bennet. Be happy. Know what it is that gives you happiness and return it to the world. Most of all, Jane, do not confuse love with gratitude. It would be a shame to have your sweetness tried by failure in realizing what your heart truly desires. You may end up spending your entire life being polite and that is a shameful waste of true love.”

The horse whinnied again. Darcy tipped his hat and rode off.

Chapter 15

The Bennet household found itself in a state of despair during the winter months of that year. Mrs. Bennet dearly missed the company of her youngest daughter and mourned the lost of Jane's suitors. Kitty found little to do. She had spent nearly half her life as Lydia's shadow and now, it was just her. Elizabeth was no longer on good terms with Jane and Jane licked her own wounds caused by Mr. Darcy. As for the head of this broken household, he was feeling the lost of his youngest daughter and the guilt of the fate he sealed for her.

Oddly enough, Lydia was able to bring momentary joy into her former and future home. A week after Christmas, the Bennets received their first letter from her.

Christmas Eve

My dear family,

I must admit my motive for not writing earlier was entirely selfish. I wanted to hurt you as you have hurt me but I have come to realize that I was wrong. None of you truly wanted this for me and I would not wish to cause any strife between any of us. (Just listen to me! It's as though Lydia Gnee Bennet never existed!) Perhaps she is gone forever. My writing is much more elegant, is it not?

Her family smiled at her last remark. Perhaps Lydia Bennet was not entirely lost to them. Her letter continued with wishes for a good holiday season and finished with an invitation for, surprisingly, her two eldest sisters.

...I would like very much for Jane and Lizzy to visit me at Hunsford in the spring. I welcome their companionship if it can be spared. Please reply soon so I can ready the household. Oh, I do hope all of you are happy at dear, dear Longbourn!

With all my love,

Lydia

"Why didn't she invite me?" Kitty pouted.

Before Mary could reply with a lesson on jealousy, Mr. Bennet interrupted. "I'm sure, my dear, that Lydia intends to invite you to Hunsford in the summer, when you can surely spend more time with her and view the grounds of Rosings at its best."

Thus, with the coming of spring and the thawing of the snow, but not the tension, boredom or guilt that pervaded the house, the two eldest Bennet daughters rode to London before heading to Kent.

"My dear girls!" Mrs. Gardiner cried when Jane and Elizabeth arrived on Gracechurch Street in Cheapside.

"Aunt Maddie, it's so good to see you," Jane replied before being accosted by the Gardiner children.

"Aunt," Elizabeth stated simply.

"Is there something the matter?" Mrs. Gardiner asked with concern. For indeed, the strain on the two sisters' countenance was evident. But she could hardly guess that the pair was upset with one another and that, during the journey to London, nothing beyond the acknowledgement of refusing to communicate was exchanged.

"I shall explain later."

But nothing was to be explained. Jane and Elizabeth entertained themselves with their nieces and nephews, avoiding each other as much as possible and refusing to converse on the subject that interested their aunt the most when the other was around. Later, their uncle came home and it was decided that they must go to the theatre that night.

"You girls look lovely!"

"Thank you, Uncle Gardiner, but I doubt this dress was meant for such an event as the theatre!" Elizabeth cried, looking at one of the more elegant dresses that she had brought. It was certainly a dinner dress, crushed dark green velvet, but it was very plain and simply cut.

"Your dress requires no accessory when you wear it, my dear. Your beauty will suffice."

"...a lovely Italian piece. I'm sure you'll love it!"

"Oh, I'm never disappointed by the theatre," Jane smiled.

"Ah, but then you are never disappointed by anything, my dear!"

Jane's lack of response caused Mrs. Gardiner to pause. Have you been disappointed in some way, Jane? And what of your sister?

"Miss Bennet! Miss Bennet, is that you?"

Both Jane and Mrs. Gardiner turned to see a Naval officer with sandy hair and freckles approach them.

"Captain Harold," Jane greeted with a curtsey.

"How are you, Miss Bennet? I hope your family is well."

"They are, sir," Jane replied, purposely avoiding his question. "May I introduce you to my aunt, Mrs. Gardiner?"

"How do you do, ma'am?" he said with a very gallant bow.

"Captain Harold is Lieutenant Lucas' superior. He returned with the latter to Lucas Lodge this past autumn," Jane explained.

"And how did you find Hertfordshire, Captain?" Mrs. Gardiner applied pleasantly.

"The countryside was very beautiful though not as beautiful as other objects to be found there," he smiled. "And it was a welcome contrast to my many years at sea."

"Do you not enjoy the sea?"

"Oh, indeed, I do! Do not be mistaken, Mrs. Gardiner, a sailor could not but love the sea. However, I did not grow up with sea legs. A part of me will always belong to solid ground."

"So it is!"

"If I may be so impertinent to ask, Captain Harold, for what reason are you in London?" Jane interrupted, worried that Lieutenant Lucas would be in the premises and quite put out that there was no Darcy to save her.

"In preparation for my return to the wild blue mysteries of the tide. I was to be reassigned to my very own ship, with Lucas as my first, but there seems to be some complications that must be straightened out so I find myself in London awaiting my orders."

"Well, I do hope you are enjoying your leave."

"It is much more splendid when the company is good," he said with a wink.

Mrs. Gardiner laughed. "You are quite charming, Captain."

"My friend, Lieutenant Lucas, uses the term lethal. May I escort you ladies to your seats?"

"Captain Harold, it is so good to see you!"

"And you Miss Elizabeth. I am sorry to learn from your sister that the two of you will not be in town for long."

"No indeed. We are leaving tomorrow morning."

"Where to might I ask?"

"Kent. We are visiting my youngest sister Lydia. Surely you remember her. She married my cousin, Mr. Collins."

"Yes, what a pity."

"Won't you join us, Captain Harold?" Mr. Gardiner did not see his eldest niece shake her head vigourously.

"No. I wouldn't want to impose."

"It's no imposition at all."

"Well, in such pleasant company as this, I can see why not. But I must collect my subordinate, if you do not mind."

"Of course not."

Jane was quite put out. To spend the night with Lieutenant Lucas when everything was so wrong already!

Captain Harold returned without Lucas. He could not find him anywhere and this cause Jane to smile a little. She even offered him the seat next to herself.

The first act began and it was indeed pleasant. Engrossed in the play, Jane and Elizabeth momentarily forgot that they were no longer on good terms. When intermission began, they turned to one another to discuss what they had seen as they were always wont to do but before either of them said anything, they stopped themselves and looked away. Jane, upon turning away, was faced in the direction of Captain Harold. Naturally, they began to converse.

After several minutes of doing nothing but staring away from Jane, Elizabeth interrupted by saying, "We dearly missed you, Captain, when you left this past autumn!"

"Sound like Lydia," Jane muttered under her breath.

"I am dreadfully sorry for having to leave myself, Miss Elizabeth."

"As you should be!" Elizabeth cried, batting her eyelashes and smiling immensely. This quite confused the Captain for he did note that this was a method of flirtation but he thought he would never see it upon such an intellectual woman as Elizabeth Bennet. "So many people quitted the neighborhood that by winter, we were quite despondent over our lack of company."

"Such as Mr. Wickham, Lizzy?" Jane practically spat. She was really quite annoyed with Lizzy's insistence that she was correct in her judgments while her elder sister was completely disillusioned.

"Wickham?! As in George Wickham?" Captain Harold cried in a horrified voice.

"Do you know him?" Jane asked, jumping up in her excitement and curiosity. Elizabeth also stood up but much more slowly.

"Unfortunately, yes. I did not know that scoundrel was in Hertfordshire. Probably for the best. Otherwise, I would have sought him out and done something to him not meant for ladies' ears."

Jane smiled winningly at him. "Is that so?"

Chapter 16

Posted on Sunday, 24 February 2002

The carriage rattled away to Kent. More specifically, to Hunsford.

"I think I owe you an apology, Jane."

"No, dear sister, I think it is I who should apologize for being so infinitely cold to you simply because we did not agree." Jane took her sister's hand and smiled.

"Oh, I've missed you so!" Elizabeth cried, throwing her arms around her elder sister.

Last night, Jane and Elizabeth heard a basic account of Wickham's character from Captain Harold. Though they were not able to discuss it in full detail, it was clear that the two had been acquainted for awhile and the Captain had not been very happy with the other.

"Do you suppose that Captain Harold and Mr. Darcy were ever acquainted themselves?" Elizabeth mused.

"It is possible. After all, they both know about Wickham's true nature."

"Are you still..."

"One does not give away her heart so easily that it can be taken back-"

"I'm sorry, Jane. I did not mean to offend you."

"It's not you, Lizzy. It's..." She squeezed her sister's hand to offer her reassurance before continuing. "Can I share with you my misgivings concerning Mr. Darcy?"

"But of course!" Elizabeth grinned. "What misgivings might you have concerning him? Is he not rich enough? Too rich? Tell me, do you not favor the color of his eyes? For I certainly do not."

"Lizzy..." Jane admonished. She stared out the carriage window for a few seconds before turning to Elizabeth. "He has stated, very clearly might I add, that I was not in love with him. Which is preposterous because I would know my own heart better than anyone else."
Jane paused when her sister cried out---'How superior of him to think he knows the affairs of your heart so well!' "But...could he be correct in his assumption? Could this be a passing fancy? I feel too affected to think it's merely something as childish as that, but he has suggested that these feelings were conjured up simply because he was there for me. And there is some truth in that, I suppose. He was there when I needed him. But love would not spring so suddenly from that, would it?"

"With the provocation of a handsome face, a good figure, elegance in manners, an estate in the countryside...ten thousand a year...then perhaps, it could," Elizabeth replied thoughtfully.

This left the sisters with much to think about. But instead of the strained silence that occupied them to London, this silence was much more companionable.

Chapter 17

Jane and Elizabeth found their youngest sister much changed from the wild, free-spirit girl they once knew. It was to their delight, however, that she was not nearly as gloomy as when she left them. Hunsford was a comfortable place and Lydia seemed to manage it well. Indeed, she spent much time in her household if only to find an excuse to avoid her dearly beloved husband.

"There are days when Mr. Collins is so busy with his affairs and I with mine that we do not even cross paths," Lydia smiled but then, shuddered slightly. "It is no my dismay that I cannot avoid him forever. His dear patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, insists that he should sire a son. He tries to please her most desperately but finds a most unwilling participant in this scheme."

"Lydia, are you trying to say that-" Jane exclaimed.

"That this marriage has not been consummated," Lydia finished.

"For almost half a year..." Elizabeth smirked. "Clever girl!"

"Not actually clever. More like forceful," she said with a little giggle.

"Oh, Lydia, I'm sorry that you have very little company here!"

"Do not pity me, sister. Well, at least, not in that manner. Miss Anne de Bourgh is very pleasant and so is her friend. I'm afraid you won't be able to meet Estella until the end of your visit but I'm sure you will both like her very well."

Before Elizabeth could ask about Darcy's supposed fiancée, Mr. Collins ran in breathing very heavily and sweating most profusely. "My dear, Lady Catherine de Bourgh has invited us to dine at Rosings. Make haste, make haste. We must ready ourselves."

Lydia rolled her eyes and escorted her sisters away from her odious, ugh!, husband.

Anne de Bourgh was not the "frail thing" that Wickham had claimed her to be, though she was a small girl with soft features. She ignored Mr. Collins upon his entrance. Not that he noticed as he was busy kissing the ground upon which Lady Catherine stood upon.

Her greeting to the ladies was formal but once her mother's attention was captured, she spoke with greater warmth. Elizabeth noted that she was a pretty girl but for all her delicacy, not striking. She was immensely pale and her hair was almost as light as her complexion. Large hazel eyes blinked quite intelligently under blonde lashes. They were the same eyes that Darcy had but they spoke in a different manner and they were much clearer than his muddled, ever-changing colors pair.

Lady Catherine was a large woman in comparison to her daughter and very befitting as Mr. Collins' patroness. She patronized the Bennet women, causing Anne to blush from time to time on account of her mother's rudeness. Her features had harden throughout time though they were never as delicate or as beautiful as her dead younger sister's. She was possibly handsome in her youth but time had not been kind to her.

"What do you think of Rosings?" Elizabeth whispered.

"It is very elegant. I have never dined at such an exquisite table."

"Yes, it is quite overwhelming."

Jane smiled. She knew her sister did not mean this as a compliment. Rosings was far too...expensive and gaudy.

"Lizzy, do you remember that man's name? The one who came to Netherfield with Mr. Bingley?"

Casting a side-long glance at a frozen Jane, Elizabeth replied calmly, "I do believe his name is Darcy."

"Indeed! That is my cousin!" smiled Anne.

"Really?" Elizabeth inquired with what she hoped to be an interested nod in her direction.

"Yes, he will be arriving tomorrow with my other cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. What a happy coincidence!"

"And Anne has been telling me that they are quite fun. It's a shame I'm married for you two know how I love a man in regimentals!" Though Lydia said this in a stage whisper, her sisters noticed the sadness in her eyes.

Anne, however, continued. "I always look forward to their visits. Colonel Fitzwilliam is very pleasant but I can hardly wait to see Fritz---that's Mr. Darcy, I mean. He's very wicked!"

"Wicked?" Jane asked, slightly shocked, knowing that she would've been more than slightly shock if she were not already shocked by his coming and his coming within a day.

"Oh, I don't mean wicked like that. Indeed, how could I welcome a cousin who is wicked in such a way? I only mean that...well, you'll see when he arrives," Anne ended mysteriously.

Chapter 18

Posted on Tuesday, 2 April 2002

"Are you drunk, man?!"

"Noo....of course not," Bingley slurred before collapsing on the floor.

Darcy shook his head. Was this the third or fourth time this week? He walked out of the study and called for Miss Bingley.

"Yes, Mr. Darcy?" she cooed.

"It seems that your brother is quite intoxicated...again," he replied evenly.

Caroline scowled. She didn't know what to do with her younger brother anymore. He had been in a sorry state for months and instead of rising over his melancholy as he was wont to do, he got worse. In the past two weeks, he was often found in some odd position in a random room with a liquor bottle in his hand.

"I'll see to it," she replied.

"Thank you. I will return once more before I leave. I can trust you to watch over him?"

The last part sounded vaguely like a question, but Caroline chose to ignore it.

Darcy left the Bingley townhouse to pick up Colonel Fitzwilliam.

"Aunt Catherine says they're nothing but worthless scum!"

"And when do you listen to what my mother has to say?" Anne countered.

Instead of answering, Henry continued to scold his much younger cousins. "Well, this is a fine thing, isn't it? The future heir of Pemberley and the future heiress of Rosings! Running around with servants! It's a shame to the Fitzwilliam name!"

"I thought you were a shame to the Fitzwilliam name."

"Shut up, Will! You know nothing of this world."

"And I suppose you're the expert."

"Don't be so impertinent." Henry wagged his finger at the two of them. "The right connections are important and I can tell you that your current connections will be your downfall. What is Uncle George thinking? Allowing the two of you to do as you please! I suspect he encourages it."

Will grabbed the lapels of Henry's fine, black riding coat. "Do not insult my father."

Henry easily disengaged himself from Will. "Stupid boy."

"Hello Henry," Darcy said coolly.

"Will," Henry nodded as he passed his cousin in the hall. "Are you here for Richard?"

"I'm certainly not here for you," Darcy replied.

Henry Fitzwilliam opened his mouth to respond but thought better of it. Darcy was never this rude unless there was something troubling him, and Henry knew very well that he was the least likely person for Darcy to open up to. He nodded again and strode purposely away.

"That sounded mean, Darce."

"It was not meant to sound nice," he replied, rubbing his temples with his index fingers and thumbs.

"Something troubling you?"

"Bingley. And women."

"Women are always troubling you. What is this about Bingley?"

"Perhaps we should've taken him with us," Colonel Fitzwilliam sighed as he sat back on the carriage seat.

"I'm sure he would've been more inclined to be under the condescension of our dear Aunt Cathy. How dull of me for not suggesting this to his unconscious form," replied Darcy drolly.

"At least he wouldn't be miserably drunk every moment. There's no spirits in that household except for what we sneak in each year."

"Then he would simply be miserable."

"Well this is entirely your fault, Darce. You make love to women without knowing it."

"That's nonsense!"

Colonel Fitzwilliam grinned. "Of course it is, I have never seen a gentleman so distant as you when a pretty, rich girl smiles and bats her eyes."

"I have no interest in marriage."

"Of course not. You're still young, but within the next few years..."

"I have no interest in marriage," Darcy repeated with a pout.

"Now stop acting like a seven-year old. I'll give you a biscuit if you're good."

"Shut up, Richard. Shut up."

Chapter 19

"Jane, there is no need for you to cower like a three-year old under your blanket!" Elizabeth cried at Jane's trembling form cowering like a three-year old under her blanket.

"I can't face him!" came the muffled cry.

"You shall have to face him sometime, my dear. You might as well do something nice with your hair so he can regret ever refusing you."

Jane threw off her blanket and rolled off the bed. "Oh, my hair! It must look like a haystack!"

"I do not understand what the problem is."

"There is no problem at all. I simply forgot I had business to attend to."

"That's silly, man!" Colonel Fitzwilliam had to fight the urge to slap his cousin with his glove.

"Put your glove back on," Anne admonished.

Darcy turned to glare at his cousin who was sheepishly replacing his glove upon his hand. He said slowly, "It's not silly at all. I was preoccupied with thoughts concerning Bingley and forgot about this blasted business in London."

"Preoccupied with thoughts of Bingley, eh?"

"Anne..."

"We've just arrived, Darce. There is no need for you to go rushing off. At any rate, Anne has informed us that some lovely ladies shall be having tea here. Are you not even curious about them?"

"Oh, he's already met the Bennets."

"Indeed! You've never mentioned that."

Darcy purposely ignored Richard and strode up the stairs, leaving a befuddled pair of cousins behind. Well, one befuddled cousin. Anne was rather disinterested-- "Darcy is always sporadic and I will, by no means, waste time on figuring the way the nut bounces in his head."

Colonel Fitzwilliam was further confused.

Darcy entered his room as his valet was unpacking his trunks.

"Take your time with that, Fez. I'm heading back to London."

"Back to London?! But you-"

"Yes, yes, yes. I've only just arrived." Darcy laid haphazardly across his bed. He looked at his trusted valet who cocked his head at his master in return. Darcy kicked up his long legs and somersaulted backwards to a standing position. "Maybe I should escape through the window."

"Do you have any need for it? Or do you simply want to frustrate your relatives?"

"The latter."

"Why don't you just slide down the banister and be off with you?" suggested Fez, who attained his nickname when young Master Darcy, at age nine, had not liked the stuffy Felix that was applied to his valet's person. Though Fez did note, his name was not as stuffy as Fitzwilliam. At which point, the latter countered that no one except stuffy relatives called him by his first full name unless they were rather angry at him. And then...but I digress, that's another story.

"I suppose," Darcy mumbled, pretending to give consideration to Fez's counsel but already agreeing to it nonetheless. He then explained, "Anne is having the parson's wife, Mrs. Collins, along with their visiting cousins, the Bennets, for tea this very afternoon."

"Ahh," replied a knowing Fez. He nodded at his master and opened the door for him. "You best leave as soon as possible."

"I'm glad you can part from my company so easily," mocked Darcy. He walked into the hall and called down to Colonel Fitzwilliam. "Richard! RICHARD!"

"What?" came the distant cry.

At this, Darcy flung one leg over the banister and slid down the waxed surface. Near the end, he hopped off efficiently, sliding somewhat on the marble floor of Rosings.

"Hello there..."

Darcy paid Anne no mind as he was wont to do but straightened his clothes instead. When he did look up, the humiliation of his stunt hit him full force but years of practice schooled his features into indifference. "Mrs. Collins, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth. I see you ladies have arrived for tea...already. Excuse me."

He thus walked out of Rosings, leaving behind a considerably confused Colonel Fitzwilliam, a laughing Anne de Bourgh, a Lydia Collins who was torn between astonishment and a fit of giggles, a completely stunned Jane Bennet and an utterly speechless Elizabeth Bennet.

"He's always a surprise, isn't he?" Anne said when she had managed to control her laughter.

"One might say that," muttered the Colonel.

Lydia, being the first visitor to gain her senses, inquired, "Do you mean to say Mr. Darcy does...odd things like this often?"

"Very often," cried Anne happily, grabbing Lydia's arm and escorting her to the parlor. Jane and Elizabeth followed without much thought, still considering the scene they had previously witnessed. This left Colonel Fitzwilliam in the hall, who felt stupid standing there on his own and decided to go outside.

"I understand from Lydia that my cousin was quite uncivil when he visited Hertfordshire last year," Anne stated as she took a seat. She knew very well that Darcy couldn't possibly be in a good mood during that time of year but she wanted to know all the details nonetheless.

"Very much so," replied Elizabeth at the same time Jane responded with an opposite report.

Lydia smiled. "Elizabeth tends to be too severe while Jane can see nothing but good in everyone. I suppose, for a true report, you shall have to ask Mr. Darcy himself."

"He is only forthcoming when he wants to be and he shall not be forthcoming about this, I'm sure. Colonel Fitzwilliam is quite the opposite. He blurts everything out. Whether he means to or not."

"He is quite handsome," commented Lydia with a youthful glitter in her eye. He wasn't Wickham and he was certainly not Darcy but he had a charming smile and good strong features.

Anne rolled her eyes. "Richard has it over his brother but neither of them are quite as handsome as the Earl. Their mother is a wonderful lady, to be sure, but very, very plain."

"Beauty is certainly not everything."

"Beauty is nothing, Miss Elizabeth, if you do not have the eyes to see it. I have often noted that, with every visit Aunt Rebecca pays me, she grows fairer."

"But you call her plain."

Anne tilted her head to the side. "No, I believe I said, 'very, very plain.' You never heard the adjectives I previously used to describe her."

Elizabeth smirked at this reply. "And why does your aunt visit you? Do you not visit her?"

"I do love intellectual conversation!" Anne cried with a clap of her hands. "You have noted a slip in my words but it is as intentional as it is not. I suppose, I was only being truthful. My aunt pays me visits, but I cannot repay the calls made to me. My mother thinks me too weak for travel. She thinks me too weak for a great many things. It is only because I am so small. Fritz used to sneak me off to London, giving my mother all these reasons for me to be there. He quite charms her, even when he has no intention of doing it. But so he does to many." Jane almost dropped her tea but Anne continued, pretending she took no note of it. "She thinks him highly proper and willing to marry me as to unite our two estates. That will be the day."

"I take it you two are not engaged," Elizabeth stated warily.

"My cousin and I understand one another very well," Anne smiled. "We grew up together, both despising the burden of our birth, both naturally shy but willing to break out in some manner or another, and both in love with acting with wild abandon. We dare less in our maturity which is a true shame. No, Miss Elizabeth, we are not engaged and I imagine, we should drive one another mad if we were united for our entire mortal lives. There is a problem with being too much alike."

"And there is one with being too little alike," muttered Lydia, clearly referring to her own husband.

"I find it hard to picture Mr. Darcy acting with wild abandon but considering the display..."

"He certainly wouldn't have done that if he knew of any visitors," Anne replied dismissively. "It was for the Colonel's benefit. Richard is our senior by several years and was away at school when we were growing up. He missed much of our...disregard for propriety."

"I did not think the Colonel was so old!" cried Lydia.

"Old? What makes you think him old? He is nearly twice your age but it is only because you are so young."

"Is not Colonel Fitzwilliam some years older than both you and Mr. Darcy? That is what you said."

"He is five years my senior and seven years Darcy's."

"Seven years?" Elizabeth inquired, leaning forward, one eyebrow arched.

"How old might you think Darcy is, Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth and the rest of the ladies swiveled around upon hearing this new voice. Colonel Fitzwilliam was leaning against the doorframe with a frown creasing his brow.

"Richard! How very naughty of you to eavesdrop so!"

"I did no such thing, cousin. I was only walking by when someone stated, very audibly, might I add, that I was old."

"Colonel, I myself doubt that you are above two-and-thirty but how young can you be when Mr. Darcy is seven years your junior?" Lydia asserted in her defense. She did not want the handsome officer to think ill of her. Though it mattered not.

"Well, then I shall restate my previous question. Miss Elizabeth, with complete disregard to how old I might possibly be, how old would you say Darcy is?"

"Thirty," she replied readily.

Colonel Fitzwilliam's eyes widen considerably while Anne broke out in hysterical laughter. The former looked at Elizabeth and cried, "Heaven help you, madam, if Darcy ever heard you say that!"

"Keep us in suspense no longer! How old is he?" Lydia exclaimed, standing up and placing her hands on her hips.

"I am thirty, Mrs. Collins. I am thirty."

"That makes him three-and-twenty," Jane uttered in surprise.

"Indeed it does."

"Why, he is merely one year my senior!"

"Is that a problem?"

Jane blushed at this. "Of course not."

Anne observed this exchange with sharp eyes. She easily concluded that Fritz was avoiding Miss Jane Bennet and he was unlikely to return for the duration of her visit. Without Darcy around, she might as well enjoy another's company. "Lydia, with my dear cousin away, we shall have to invite Estella Crane to complete the party."

"Estella! Oh, how I long to see her!"

"My apologies, Colonel, but it seems as though you shall be overpopulated by women."

"I shall have to tolerate it, I suppose," he replied in a grave voice though one could not wipe that silly smile off his face for the rest of the day.

Chapter 20

Posted on Sunday, 14 April 2002

Between the two Bennet sisters, it had been discussed what an odd pairing Lady Anne de Bourgh of Rosings would have made with the Lydia of old and how it was still so with the Lydia of new. Their relationship, however, was asserted to be very sincere and approved of in all respects.

"But what of her companionship with Estella Crane?"

It was late in the evening when Jane and Elizabeth sat on the former's bed to discuss the new arrival. Lydia had retired long before, feigning a headache. Mr. Collins was...well, no one cared enough to consider.

"I find it rather odd...even for Lydia Collins. But she is a very good sort of girl," Jane replied.

"A very good sort of girl! I should think there must be something terribly wrong with her she is so good!"

Jane laughed at this but acknowledged the truth in her sister's words. Estella Crane, even upon a one-day acquaintance, was asserted as the epitome of grace and sophistication. She was warm and polite, charming as she was incredibly beautiful. She even outshone all the Bennet daughters in each of their most individualized beauty. Jane's pale skin, slender form and graceful movements did not compare. Elizabeth's raven hair was not nearly as dark. Mary's hands, the sisters agreed, were not nearly so slim and they certainly did not fly across the keys of the pianoforte so well. Even Kitty's blue eyes did not hold so much beauty. And Lydia herself declared that she would never be noticed next to Estella, unless a man's eyes strayed towards the bosom. She said this in a quiet whisper, of course. Lydia Bennet, Elizabeth was sure, would have declared it in her shrillest voice and in not so delicate terms.

"I am sure Mr. Darcy would not have found such important business in London if my name were Estella Crane."

"Oh, Jane!"

"I am quite serious, Lizzy," Jane laughed. "Did you see the way Colonel Fitzwilliam stared at her?"

"Indeed I did. He kept walking into objects all evening!"

"He stumbled over Mr. Collins at least three times."

"And into the wall just as many."

"He seems to be quite smitten with her," Jane sighed, lying back on her bed.

After a pause, Elizabeth spoke up. "How does your heart fare, dear sister?"

"Much better. I suppose Mr. Darcy was right. I cannot be sure but...it seems ridiculous, does it not? I claimed to love him in Hertfordshire but here in Kent, I find that I barely know this man. The person that Anne talks of is not the one I know."

"He is rather complicated."

"I am not one to fall in love with a puzzle."

"You cannot help who you fall in love with."

Jane lifted an eyebrow at her younger sister. "Are you encouraging me?"

"Nothing of the sort. I only want you to be happy."

"If only I could figure out how happiness is to be attained," she replied with a yawn.

"There is nothing to worry about, Estella. We shall have a wonderful time and no one will be the wiser." Anne grasped her friend's elbow while she skipped across the grounds of Rosings Park.

"This is such an unnecessary risk."

"Nonsense. There is no risk at all."

"You are far too confident and therefore, far too careless."

"Oh, if isn't the dear Colonel with Mrs. Collins and the Bennets!" she smiled wickedly and greeted them with a jubilant shout.

"Estella!" Lydia walked briskly to Anne's companion.

"Lydia, you look very well this morning."

"You haven't looked in the mirror today, have you?" Lydia shook her head. "I thought as much or you wouldn't have said such a thing." She then bent close to Estella and whispered in her ear. "The Colonel has had nothing but the best things to say about you all day! As a matter of fact, he hasn't spoken about anything else."

Anne couldn't see Estella's face but she knew it to be as unhappy as hers. It was no surprise to the future lady of the estate that her cousin was so infatuated by Estella's grace but she did worry over his growing interest.

"Miss Crane, you look absolutely exquisite," Colonel Fitzwilliam said with a bow, offering her his arm.

"When did you learn such a complicated word as exquisite, Richard?" Anne took the proffered arm, making her cousin scowl darkly.

"Shall we have tea at the Parsonage?" Lydia chirped.

The group assented to the scheme and thus, headed towards Hunsford, traveling in pairs. The Colonel and Anne lead the way, followed by Estella and Lydia with the Bennet sisters trailing behind.

Chapter 21

Lady Catherine was lamenting the lost of Darcy to their party for the umpteenth time since his sudden departure. "It feels so incomplete without my dear nephew here!"

"You have Richard, mother."

"Oh...yes. But why must Darcy's business take him away from you at this time?"

How subtle, Anne thought, rolling her eyes. Though Anne sat beside her mother dutifully, she was hardly listening to anything the matriarch had to say. She might've made the proper response from time to time but knew that if she remained silent, her mother would continue the conversation without her. And there was always Mr. Collins to distract Lady Catherine as he drooled on her feet. This gave Anne ample opportunity to observe her friend and cousin across the room at the pianoforte.

"Allow me to turn the pages for you."

"Thank you, Colonel," Estella replied quietly.

"Oh, do play something lively!" pleaded Lydia from where she sat on the sofa with her sisters.

"If it pleases you," Estella replied, her fingers rapidly flying across the keys in a jaunty tune.

"You are such a wonderful player," crowed the Colonel.

"I make my mistakes, sir. Surely you note the way I'm slurring through this verse."

"Indeed, I do not! You must've made your music teacher quite proud with your talent."

"I do believe I frustrated him beyond words. He was not a patient teacher and I was not a patient learner."

"Surely you jest," he chuckled.

"Not at all. I am perfectly serious. Perhaps too serious."

This remark puzzled the Colonel but he was too dazzled by her to make any further comment. He merely smiled.

Anne could not hear the conversation from where she sat but noted the lack of expression on Estella's face and Richard's oblivious smile. She did not like it at all.

"Anne!"

"Yes, mother?"

Lady Catherine had followed her daughter's gaze when she had not answered a direct question concerning matrimony. She sharply assessed the situation before her, as though she never noticed it before. "It would be wise of Estella Crane to accept Richard's proposal."

"Excuse me?"

"Do not insult my intelligence, girl! The way your cousin looks at her. It is almost sickening. He is the son of an Earl. Perhaps a second son, but his consequence is much greater than hers. Why, Estella Crane has nothing attached to her," she sniffed, turning away from them and looking with narrowed eyes at Anne. "But she has a good chance to rise to the position of a Colonel's wife with her charms. Make sure she is not so stupid as to say no."

"I will do nothing of the sort," Anne seethed. If only you knew, mother! If only you knew!

"Mark my words, Anne, she shall accept him."

"She does not love him! They barely know one another. You cannot expect such."

"Love! What does that matter? She has no background to speak of. A mere orphan. Granted, she is living on a sum of thirty thousand pounds but what of her connections? She has none."

"Her connections do not matter. She has no need for them."

"Where in the world did you get these romantic notions from, Anne? Certainly not from me!"

"Certainly not, mother. Certainly not."

Lady Catherine was silent from a moment. Mr. Collins thus took the opportunity to agree with her but found he met resistance. She had enough of his groveling for tonight. She stood up and dismissed her guests by calling the carriages. It was to her dismay however that the carriages would not be carrying Estella Crane from her house as she was Anne's personal guest.

Chapter 22

"Miss Crane--no, Estella, my love." Richard Fitzwilliam paced the confines of his bedroom, shaking his head as he attempted to perfect his proposal. Two hours later, "No, no, no, too forward. What about my dear Miss--"

"Perhaps you shouldn't propose at all."

The Colonel's head snapped up. "Anne."

"If you can't satisfy yourself with the address, then you're thinking too much of it," she muttered, sitting on the sofa.

"What would you have me do?" he cried, rolling his eyes. "Not think about it? I'll sound like a blubbering idiot."

"You do anyway."

Richard chose to ignore her, but Anne persisted. "What is your interest in marrying her?"

"You do not know? She's beautiful!"

"Is that the only reason?" Anne replied with an arch of her eyebrow.

"Of course not. She is the most charming creature that I've ever had the honor to know and it would be of great pleasure to me if she would consent to be my wife."

"You know nothing about her. She has been here but a week. You're in love with an image you have created or suppose is there and she knows that."

"Are you trying to suggest that she would not accept me?"

"I am trying to suggest that if you feel with your heart, then follow it. If you do not, listen to reason."

Fitzwilliam seemed to ponder this for a moment before he burst into speech. "How can you put time constraints on love? Tell me, Anne! What difference does it make if I've known her for a week or a lifetime?"

"Everything."

"That's ridiculous!"

"No, it is you who is ridiculous!" Anne stood up and lifted her chin defiantly towards her much taller cousin. "You talk about this as though it's poetry. It's not poetry, Richard! And I'll tell you why that is. You feel poetic now, surrounded, lost, absorbed or whatever it is by her beauty, her compassion, her amiability, the things that are merely on the touch of the surface, but-"

"I don't see how you can classify her nature as-"

Already anticipating her cousin's argument, Anne cut in. "You only know what she has shown you by choice. You know nothing of what must be pried out of the very depths of her soul. Do you understand that, Richard? You know nothing. You know nothing of who she truly is."

"I know everything that I want to know. I know that I desire her hand in marriage."

"Oh, you are such a boor!" cried a frustrated Anne. "You are merely infatuated and do not have the sense to realize it!"

The Colonel looked at Anne sharply, lurching forward as though he were about to strike her. Instead, he rolled his shoulders back and said coldly, "You are merely jealous, dear cousin."

"Pray, jealous of what?" she replied evenly.

"Of my attentions to her. I remember when you and Darcy used to fight for my attention." Colonel Fitzwilliam sniffed disdainfully. "But people grow up, Anne. And I simply have no more time for you."

Anne turned on her heel and slammed the door behind her. "People do grow up, Richard. It seems as though you haven't."

"What were you thinking, you stupid girl?"

As though she didn't have enough arguments that day, Anne was finally cornered by Darcy's valet after meticulously avoiding him for a week. "How dare you speak to me like that!" she scowled, looking remarkably like her mother.

"I dare because you are nothing but a stupid, stupid girl. What was your intention? To fix things?"

"I suggest you get out of my way, Fez. This is none of your business."

"When it involves my master, it is my business."

"Felix! Step away from my daughter!" Lady Catherine cried, brandishing her walking cane. "You're a servant. You know better than to...to even speak to her!"

"It's perfectly alright, mother," Anne said, rolling her eyes.

"My nephew may allow you to do as you please, act like you're one of us, pretend as though you're an equal, but I will not tolerate it. Do you hear me?" Lady Catherine screeched, ignoring her daughter's earlier comment.

"Aunt Catherine," came a stony voice.

This caused everyone to pause and turn toward the latest addition of the party.

Anne yelped, distraught over everything as it was, and ran up the stairs. Fez bowed to his master while Lady Catherine turned to her nephew, ready to advise him on the manner in which he should discipline his servants.

"Fez, you are dismissed." His valet attempted to comment but Darcy would have none of it. He required his aunt's full attention.

Colonel Fitzwilliam found Estella in the gardens, bending over the roses. He inhaled deeply, then, took a moment to take in her beauty before approaching her.

"Miss Crane," the Colonel whispered, his heart beating in his throat.

The gravity of his voice startled her, but she acknowledged him with a polite nod.

"Might..." he cleared his throat. "Might I speak with you?"

"As you please, Colonel," she replied, fingering a red rose in full bloom. She hardly looked at him except a few furtive glances. He was standing very still, barely moving, staring at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

"You are truly beautiful," he finally breathe.

"Thank you..." she replied slowly. "I do not deserve such a compliment."

In a moment, Richard Fitzwilliam was on his knees, grasping tightly to her white hands. "Oh, but you do, my dear, dear Estella, you do."

"Colonel Fitzwilliam, please restrain yourself!" she cried, trying to pull away. She had been wary of the Colonel and his obvious interest in her but had scoffed at anyone who had the audacity to hint of a proposal from that quarter.

"I cannot help the way I feel," he lamented, kissing her captured hands. "You are everything that is good and wonderful."

"And beautiful, Colonel?" she squinted, still unsuccessful in freeing herself.

"Yes, and beautiful! You are a goddess on Earth. I am unworthy of you but if you consent to be my wife, I shall spend my entire life making myself worthy of you."

"I beg of you, Colonel. Stand up! This is nonsense you speak of. If you can only listen to the silliness you have just expressed," she said with a sigh.

Before the Colonel could reply, Mr. Collins was seen or rather, heard, running towards them. (If one could consider his rapid waddling as an action that could be interpreted as running.) He halted beside the startled couple. Lydia and the Bennet sisters followed some meters behind.

"Mr. Collins, remove yourself at once! You are interrupting the Colonel's beautiful proposal!" Lydia screeched at a volume that would've made her mother proud.

"Will everyone stop saying beautiful?" Estella muttered with a roll of her eyes.

Mr. Collins, sweating profusely and his breath coming laboriously, clung onto the Colonel's sleeve and implored in short gasps, "Oh, nephew...of the my- kind....dear, and so wonderful...patron-patroness, please...oh! you cannot marry this woman."

"And why is that?" the Colonel snapped impatiently.

"She...is so...be-below you," he cried, his eyes wide.

"And you are below me, Mr. Collins. Much below me. But I have the misfortune of being married to you, nevertheless!" Lydia rushed forward and grabbed his ear, pulling him away from the officer. He howled with pain but continued his pleas. "Ignore him the best you can. Please carry on!"

Her sisters shuffled forward to aid Lydia in her endeavors of removing her husband from the premises. Jane and Elizabeth gave the pair apologetic smiles, but only received astonished blinks from the Colonel and Estella. So startled were they that they had unconsciously retained the position in which Collins found them in. The Colonel on one knee, holding Estella's hands. This was the same position in which Anne found them in as she turned the corner and witnessed the scene before her.

She said not a word and continued to remain silent when she was bumped into.

"My lord!" Not even his skill as a servant could restrain the outburst. Fez was utterly witless, the color draining fast from his face but not as fast as it was from that of Estella's. Fez had the advantage of knowing she was here. She did not have the advantage of knowing that he was about Rosings and the other knowledge which he retained, though one could argue whether that was an advantage or not.

She heard his baritone voice, addressing his valet, before she laid eyes on him for the first time in three years, three years that had been nothing but a wretchful eternity of recollecting. The moment itself seemed to be as long, her own heart rising to her throat as the Colonel's had. He came around the corner before she even thought of taking a breath. His hazel eyes went straight to her and whatever words that were on his lips faded into the air.

A man with curly blond hair and dull blue eyes appeared behind him but she scarcely noticed him.

The air seemed to quiver with anticipation. She felt as though she were floating, outside herself. She knew the Colonel had risen to his feet and thrown his arms down in exasperation but she was barely aware of anything beyond those eyes, those same eyes which she used to decipher for hours only to come up terribly short.

"Darcy. Bingley. This is a surprise. I must say, the entire bloody day has been quite astonishing," Colonel Fitzwilliam said with an edge in his voice.

"One could say that," Darcy replied slowly, his gaze still fixed on those stormy blue eyes.

She finally stepped forward, slowly, cautiously, as though doubting the very ground below her feet. "Fritz..." her lips parted like a red rose in bloom.

"Winter."

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