The Corner Shop -- Section I

By Annie

Section I, Next Section

Posted on Tuesday, 15-Sep-98

I've got Leah and Rachel to thank for (inadvertently) giving me the idea for this story. I love how they've intertwined P&P with Bachelor Mother and Monty Python so much that I've decided to give my favorite all-time movie (ahem, after P&P, of course) a similar treatment. As some of you probably know, it's The Shop Around the Corner. Before I begin the story, I want to thank Ernst Lubitsch, the producer and director of the film, along with Samson Raphaelson, who wrote the screenplay, and Nikolaus Laszlo, who wrote the original play. And of course, thanks to Jane Austen, who has made all these wonderful tales we write possible. And so here begins "The Corner Shop," and I hope none of these people strikes me dead from their perches in heaven for meddling so in their tales.

The History of De Bourgh's.

A long time ago, long enough to have been forgotten but short enough to still occasionally be mentioned cattily by competitors, the de Bourgh family of Rosings was in serious danger of losing their fortune forever. The trouble came when Fitzwilliam Darcy unexpectedly decided to go against all reason and sense and marry a common, ordinary girl by the name of Elizabeth Bennet rather than his cousin, Miss Anne de Bourgh. The day they married, Miss Anne fell into a decline some said she never recovered from.

From the time of her earliest childhood, Anne de Bourgh had been trained to be the obedient wife to her cousin. She had been taught (when her health permitted) everything which should have brought ease and comfort to him. Her reward for all this was to have her hopes cruelly dashed by his marriage to another woman. Miss Anne felt herself to be treated abominably, and there were many who agreed with her. As time passed, however, she wondered if maybe she herself hadn't been the problem. Surely Darcy wouldn't have rejected her if something hadn't been wrong with her.

Over her mother's insistence that no one could compare to her, she began to compare herself to the new Mrs. Darcy and quickly realized how poorly she compared. Armed with such a poor opinion of herself, Miss Anne was destined for disappointment. Two years after the marriage of her cousin, she too married--to a man her mother approved of, but who turned out to be much of a wastrel. The marriage produced one son and a great number of debts. The birth of the child proved deadly to his mother, who passed away of childbed fever two weeks later.

In spite of such a terrible beginning, the child, named Marcus Atwater, grew to be a great man. His grandmother took over his upbringing when, at eleven months, she grew tired of dispatching the father's debts and gave him a lump sum in exchange for the boy. Although Lady Catherine had increased in years, her spirit remained the same. Marcus willingly took her name, and although the de Bourgh fortune had seen better times, there remained enough for the family to live respectably.

Then once again, fate played a cruel trick on Lady Catherine. Marcus fell in love with a common, ordinary girl named Clarissa Warwick. Not even the threat of disinheritance could prevent him from marrying the beautiful shopkeeper's daughter. Lady Catherine carried out her threat and disinherited the young man.

The couple struggled for several years, but Marcus was determined to prove himself to the world. He worked hard to make Clarissa's father's business a success. To his grandmother's horror, he did. And when old Mr. Warwick died, Marcus renamed the business and relocated it to London. The name his chose was the final stake in Lady Catherine's heart: De Bourghs'. She died four months after the news reached her.

Upon her death, Mr. and Mrs. de Bourgh were informed that although the lady left most of her fortune to her late husband's family, she left small annuities to her great-grandchildren, and of course, Marcus inherited Rosings as he was Lady Catherine's blood relation. Marcus used the money to make De Bourghs' a grander place It became the most popular place for the wealthy to shop. It catered to several members of the royal family--or so it was said.

In the early 1880's, the family branched into America. Boston, New York, Philadelphia and Chicago all became homes to De Bourghs' stores, and all of them did quite well. Indeed, the New York store soon surpassed the London store as bringing in the most business in the early 1900's. For many years, things were grand.

The Great Depression ruined most of the family. Many members of the family suddenly found themselves as miserably poor as the people they once employed. And although it pained them to do it, all of the stores were forced to close down.

All except one. The one in New York had managed to survive, for it had been given to Marcus' youngest grandson, named Alfred de Bourgh. Not that Alfred had much to do with the store--he left that to the direction of his wife, a handsome, feisty woman in her late forties named (ironically enough) Catherine.

As the Depression worsened, Catherine worked harder to keep it going. Everyone else had abandoned De Bourghs', including her husband, but to her, the once popular store was a baby in grave danger. One she could save, and would, no matter how hard she herself had to work. Someday, she vowed, it would be left to her daughter, Hannah. Her hours grew longer.

Slowly--very slowly--De Bourghs' pulled out of danger. It was still precarious, and one did not know how things would be come the new year, but if Catherine had her way, it would survive. A good deal of credit, she knew, belonged to her best sales girl, Elizabeth Bennet (no relation). And someday, Catherine promised her, she would show Miss Bennet her appreciation for all her hard work.

Miss Bennet, however, considered having her job all the appreciation she needed. After all, it was a dreadful time to be out of work. She'd heard a rumor--although Mrs. de Bourgh would not confirm it--that even members of the great Darcy family were being forced to find work.

Imagine! The Darcys having to work? She couldn't even fathom it. If they were as bad as Caroline Wickham was forever telling her they were, she wasn't sure she wanted to.

Dear Friend

Posted on Wednesday, 16-Sep-98

Intelligent, sensible young man seeks young lady of similar mind for anonymous correspondence. Please address letter "Dear Friend," Post Office 19, Box 263.

Elizabeth Bennet stood in the warm May sunshine outside of De Bourghs', waiting for the proprietor herself to arrive. She reread the ad, thinking.

She'd been hunting through the paper that morning for a job for her flighty sister Lydia. You'd think with a Depression going on the foolish girl would be grateful for any job, but she supposed that Lydia would never act like anyone else if she could help it.

Elizabeth had accidentally flipped a page too far back and had come to the personal ads, and thus to this one in particular. The ad intrigued her so much that she was able to block out all the sounds around her: her mother's shrill voice raining complaints about Mr. Bennet, a retired mill worker, when she wasn't screaming at Mary for taking a job in a library which paid less than the factory job she'd been working at for two years; Kitty's coughing from not having fully recovered from a nasty bout with influenza over the winter; Lydia's incessant chatter about her latest boyfriend. When Mrs. Bennet finished with her husband and middle daughter, she started in on Elizabeth, and how scandalous it was that she'd moved out on her own without being married and with no plans to get that way.

It almost made Elizabeth wonder why she continued the tradition of going home for breakfast every morning and supper every evening. But even as she questioned it, she knew why. Her father had made her promise she would come, every day, if for no other reason than he would go mad without at least one voice of sense in his house.

She looked at it again.

Intelligent, sensible young man.

Lord knew, there weren't all that many of them in her neighborhood. And He also knew that she was an intelligent, sensible young lady.

But to answer an ad in the newspaper? Her mother would have another one of her spells of nerves if she ever found out. Mrs. Bennet was fond of saying that any young woman who answered such an ad was cheapening herself, and heaven help them if the neighbors found out.

Elizabeth herself had always felt that people who placed those ads were extremely desperate, and the people who answered them even more so.

Still...

There was no physical description at all. Most of the ads were for men looking for a good time. And the whole thing was anonymous.

She was beginning to think there was nothing to lose.

Dear Friend,

To begin with, I'm not normally the type of girl who answers these ads. I consider myself a level-headed young woman, and although perhaps not the most beautiful girl in any room, pretty enough to get noticed. However, your ad fascinated me, so here I am, writing to you. If you would be interested in corresponding with me, please write me at Post Office 25, Box 134.

Sincerely, A Friend.

Dear Friend,

To begin with, you must know that I'm not the type who should need an ad. There are plenty of young women of my acquaintance who I should have an interest in, but I find them to be somewhat lacking. Perhaps it's just me, but I have always hoped to find a woman I could talk to. I cannot talk to any of them.

Although I have not seen your face and I don't know your name, I sensed even as I opened your letter that you were what I was looking for. It's odd, isn't it, that two sensible people such as ourselves should be doing this? And that our feelings should be so similar?

Your Friend.

Dear Friend,

I take your letter to mean that you don't believe in fate. I don't either. I feel there is no fate but that which we make for ourselves.

I find myself extremely curious about you. I thought answering an anonymous ad would lessen the tension in the beginning of friendships, yet I realize that it may create more than its fair share. We know nothing about each other, and as we continue to write I find more and more that I want to know everything about you. What do you? Where do you live? What are your thoughts on the world in which we live and how we can change things?

Where would you like to begin?

Your Friend

Dear Friend,

Your last question opens a great number of doors, and as I thought about it, I realized that I made the right choice in placing that ad. There were times before you answered when I thought it as foolish and desperate as you undoubtedly did. If our correspondence is as successful as I think it will be, it'll certainly be worth some small embarrassment at the beginning.

You ask what I do. Recently, I took a job as a clerk in a nice department store. Although it pays little now, it is dependable work. I have thought of applying at another place where I have a connection, but I decided against it. My family has not exactly had a compatible relationship with this person's family. I would give you the particulars but I fear boring you.

Your Friend.

Dear Friend,

Please let me assure you that you could not bore me. My daily life does that so much, that anything would seem fascinating.

Wait. I just read that again, and I feel I just insulted you. Forgive me, I didn't mean to say that you were boring at all. But do you ever get the sense that everything you do in your life has no purpose? I certainly feel that way, especially today.

Lately, I've found myself wondering what you look like. Are your eyes blue or brown? Are you tall or short? Do you like to laugh? Do you enjoy books or do you prefer to see movies? I realize that there is a great deal to talk about, and my mind races from one topic to the next, and I can hardly wait for your next letter...

The Bennets at Home

Posted on Thursday, 17-Sep-98

Mrs. Francine Bennet often said that she didn't understand all the fuss about the Depression, because her family never did have any money and the worsened economy did nothing to change that. Of course, Mrs. Bennet wasn't the sort of woman to bother herself with anything that didn't take place outside of her Lower East Side neighborhood, much less national or world affairs, so naturally she wouldn't understand the problem. She was a woman of little understanding and less patience. The only downside to the Depression was that the number of men who had money--the pool she wanted her daughters in--had shrunk.

Twenty-five years earlier she had married Mr. James Monroe Bennet, known to everyone in the neighborhood as Monty. At the time, Mrs. Bennet thought that she was marrying a handsome man who would do anything for her. She'd made so many plans for what she'd do when they married that she never even bothered to think about how being married to her would change him. Although Monty Bennet had started out the most affectionate of husbands, enamored of his pretty wife and pleased as anything with his first two children, daughters named Jane and Elizabeth, the rosy glow of matrimony soon faded. Day after day, he listened to Francine's voice get a little more desperate as she realized that things weren't going to change much.

It infuriated her the way that Monty could be satisfied with their life in that neighborhood, which although not the squalor of some places, was not what she'd imagined when she married him. It wasn't enough for her, and it never would be. Nor would it be enough for her daughters. From the day of her last and favorite daughter's birth, Francine planned for more for them.

The Depression couldn't have hit at a worse time as far as her daughters were concerned. Worse than there not being many men she approved of for them to marry was the fact that they had to go out and get jobs, difficult enough for men and harder for women.

Jane, her eldest and certainly her most beautiful, had worked alongside her sister Elizabeth at De Bourghs' until she'd married one of their co-workers, an amiable, attractive young man named Charles Bingley. Charlie had insisted that Jane quit working. He felt certain they could make ends meet on his salary alone. They lived not three blocks from the Bennets in a nice, if plain, apartment. Although Mrs. Bennet was a bit furious at Jane marrying a clerk, she couldn't help but be won over by his manners and his insistence that Jane shouldn't have to work.

"If only I could find a man like that for my other daughters," she would say, "then things would be heavenly. Of course, there's little likelihood that Elizabeth will ever do anything like give up her job for her husband. I swear, that girl will be lucky if she ever catches a husband."

Elizabeth had always been independent, even from an early age. Her father had taught her to depend on herself ahead of anyone else, and she took his lesson well. The other lesson she took from him was perhaps not one he had intentionally wanted her to learn, but she had nonetheless--that marriage was not a particularly desirable state. She wasn't going to marry any of the boys she'd grown up with just because her mother thought she needed to be married. If she was going to ever marry, it would be to someone who loved her, and who she loved in return.

Unfortunately, those she might have any interest in were few and far between, and she was hampered by a problem not even her mother could have foreseen--her height. Elizabeth had been shorter than Mary up until she turned eleven. Then it seemed as though almost overnight she went from a petite dynamo to a five-foot-eleven Amazon. She was by far the tallest of her sisters and taller than quite a few of the men in the neighborhood. Whenever anyone talked about her, they would say, "She's a nice girl, and she has very pretty eyes, but she's so tall!"

Elizabeth would simply roll her eyes, and her father would chuckle from behind his paper. They understood each other perfectly.

A few weeks after answering the ad in the paper, Elizabeth found herself reluctantly opening the door to her former home. The moment her mother saw her tiptoe in, the lament began.

"Why can't you be content to find a good man like Jane's Charlie? Why must you--"

"Enough! For God's sake, Fanny, every morning Elizabeth comes in you start the same diatribe. And every evening!"

"But Monty, it's unnatural for a girl of twenty-two to prefer being single. Mark my words, no good shall come of it. I am already the laughingstock of the neighborhood, and men who would ordinarily be able to overlook her lack of looks and her...well, her height...cannot overlook the fact--"

"That I make more money than they do," Elizabeth finished. "They're jealous that a woman can do so well."

"People point me out in the street. They say I'm the woman whose daughter remains unmarried and living on her own, working--"

"I've worked since I was sixteen," Elizabeth grumbled, pointing out that she'd been working before the Depression and was lucky she hadn't lost her job in those first few agonizing months after the stock market crash.

"But if you married--"

"Mother, we're in the middle of a Depression. Even if I were married, I would have to work."

"Jane doesn't work."

"She should, and she and Charlie both know how I feel about it."

"It's most unnatural--"

"I enjoy working. I like my co-workers."

"Last week you called Caroline Wickham a two-faced, conniving liar," Kitty mumbled as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

"The week before that, you said that Catherine de Bourgh was an ill-tempered shrew," Lydia joined in gleefully, grateful for any lecture that wasn't heaped on her head.

"The week before that--" Mary started.

"No job is perfect," Elizabeth snapped. "Now could everyone please stop bothering me long enough so I can get something to eat before going to work?"

Mrs. Bennet glared at her, but plunked a bowl of oatmeal before her nonetheless. Mr. Bennet had retreated to his newspaper.

"How are the Yankees doing?" Elizabeth asked.

"Too soon to tell, I think," he said.

One of Elizabeth's favorite memories was the last Yankee game her father had taken her and Jane to, several years earlier. Babe Ruth had hit his sixtieth home run that day, the ball ending up not thirty feet away from where they'd been sitting.

"No one will ever top that, mark my words," Mr. Bennet said as he brought his daughters home. "You girls witnessed history made today."

Perhaps. But Mrs. Bennet had managed to spoil the day by fretting more than usual that Mr. Bennet was treating his daughters like sons and they would never find husbands.

"Nonsense," Mr. Bennet replied. "Anyone looking at Jane or Elizabeth can tell that they're all woman."

And ironically enough, it was a mutual love of baseball which brought Jane and Charlie together when they'd reached for the same newspaper, intent on reading about a Yankees' victory. They'd met for coffee after work and things had progressed from there.

Still, Mrs. Bennet objected to Elizabeth's love of the game and, as she did today, proclaimed it to be one more example of why she was still unmarried. Mr. Bennet and Elizabeth simply ignored her.

"I answered one of those ads today," Lydia announced as Mr. Bennet handed the sports page to Elizabeth.

"Good. It's about time you took responsibility for finding yourself a job," Mr. Bennet mumbled.

"Not those ads. Those will never lead to anything. I mean one of those personals."

"What?!" Mrs. Bennet shrieked.

"Well, I was so tired of seeing the same old guys. I wanted to try something different. So I answered one." Lydia looked defiant.

"Oh! Oh, Monty! Tell her she can't do that! What if people found out? I could never go out in public again!"

"There is no need for hysterics, Fanny."

"You don't understand! If the neighbors find out--"

"Continue that screaming and all of New York will know," Elizabeth murmured.

"My dear," Mr. Bennet said, "I need hardly remind you that Lydia is an adult."

"But you could--"

"And if she enjoys such foolishness, let her do it. Heaven only knows what she would do if you forbade her to do something."

"You have no idea what sort of man you could meet!" Mrs. Bennet wailed. "My poor baby! I just know that men who place those ads are all sick, desperate lunatics--"

"They are not," Elizabeth said fiercely, thinking of the letter she had received from her secret penpal just yesterday. It had been quite long and informative, as all his letters were. Not that hers were any less long, but it seemed as though there was so much to write every time. She kept his last letter in her purse, planning to read it again if she had time on her lunch break.

"As if you have such experience," Mrs. Bennet said, not questioning why Elizabeth would have said that. "Oh! What's to become of us!"

Elizabeth had reached the end of her endurance, which seemed to grow shorter even though she no longer lived at home. With a longing glance at her half-eaten oatmeal, she rose from the table.

"I have to leave or I'll be late," she said. "Good-bye, Papa." She kissed his forehead.

"Leaving so soon?" he said with a smile. "Will we see you this evening?"

"No. I have that dinner with the De Bourghs this evening, remember?"

Mr. Bennet sighed. "I do hope you get what you want, Elizabeth. Just remember how your poor father shall suffer today."

Elizabeth smiled. She knew better. Her father would likely spend most of his day at the coffee shop just down the street, talking with his old friends Mr. Lucas and Mr. King. It drove Mrs. Bennet crazy, but it was his only respite against her.

"Have a good day," she said. "Good-bye, Mama. Kitty, Mary, Lydia. Lydia, I do hope your mystery ad turns out like you hope." It would be too much to hope that he would be anything like the person she wrote to every other day. Lydia didn't have that much sense.

Elizabeth picked up her purse and made her way to De Bourghs', thinking of what she would write to her friend.

Dear Friend,

You mentioned in your last letter that nothing means more to you than your family. I envy you that. My family tends to make me want to scream. I love my father and my eldest sister, and I do have affectionate feelings for my mother and younger sisters, but there are days when I dearly wish I'd been part of some other family, a family where there was love between the mother and father and no one played favorites with the children.

And I wonder if all families are like mine, and my desire for normalcy comes from the fact that I am normal...

The People at Work

Posted on Friday, 02-Oct-98

Elizabeth walked to work that morning, as she usually did. She enjoyed the exercise, because it was healthy and kept her figure neat and she was able to clear her head of her mother's complaints. She could put aside the vexations of home and set her mind to the day of work ahead of her. However, there were days, and today was one, when thinking of work was almost as vexing as thinking of her situation at home.

De Bourghs' employed six people, Elizabeth included. The first one that came to Elizabeth's mind, since he was her good friend and her brother-in-law, was Charlie Bingley. Charlie could be considered the friendliest clerk at the shop and he did his share of the work, but unfortunately, he was something of a birdbrain. For instance, that nonsense about Jane not working because she was married. Elizabeth couldn't understand it. Money was tight enough for her, living on her own. She had no idea how Charlie and Jane managed. Charlie's lack of great sense could be overlooked for the most part, but Mrs. de Bourgh had little tolerance for foolishness and was quick to point out Charlie's shortcomings. Elizabeth always felt bad when Mrs. de Bourgh did this, but at the same time, she couldn't help feeling that the woman was right to do it.

Caroline Wickham had been with De Bourghs' for nearly two years, and Elizabeth wished with all her heart that Mrs. de Bourgh could see the woman for what she was. Caroline was forever trying to stir up discord between the employees of De Bourghs', starting rumors or reporting to Mrs. de Bourgh when someone might be "sloughing off" their duties. She had tried this once with Elizabeth only to receive a haughty set-down from Mrs. de Bourgh, who told her that Elizabeth did more work on accident, than many of the employees did on purpose, so there was no way that she was lazing around. Ever since then, there was a strained politeness between Caroline and Elizabeth, and Caroline was forever looking for a chance to make Elizabeth look bad.

Charlotte Lucas was a friend of Elizabeth's from the neighborhood, having to work to support her parents and younger siblings. Mrs. Lucas was too frail to work, although she certainly seemed healthy enough when she climbed four flights of stairs to let Mrs. Bennet know the latest gossip. Mr. Lucas, who managed the apartment building they lived in, tended to spend most of the money he earned on frivolous things. Charlotte's contribution, therefore, went to the important things with only a little left over for herself.

Very little was known about the newest of the employees, Susan Price. They knew that she was living with her aunt and uncle and that her aunt hated the fact that she worked, but the alternative (that Aunt herself might have to work) was equally repugnant. Susan once said, "When I am not there, my sister Frances comes to visit, and so it isn't so bad for her." But other than that, Susan didn't talk much about her family, though she listened at length to Charlotte's tales, and sometimes Elizabeth's and even Charlie's.

Then, finally, there was...Elizabeth almost groaned aloud. The store's "errand boy," though he was older than Elizabeth and thus "boy" didn't exactly apply. No one particularly liked Billy Collins, Elizabeth least of all. Indeed, she often felt that even Caroline Wickham wasn't so bad compared to Billy. Billy was a pest, and worse than that, he tried to convince any female who was within hearing distance that he was "good husband material."

Especially Elizabeth.

Elizabeth turned on one street and made her way to the corner of M---- Avenue and B---, where De Bourghs' was located. There was no better real estate than that, Elizabeth always thought, and she was mirrored in her thinking by Mrs. de Bourgh.

Charlie was already waiting, since he liked to be early even though the chances of Mrs. de Bourgh ever arriving around the same time and praising his punctuality were next to impossible. Elizabeth smiled and waved to him, but as he turned she saw the bulky body of Billy Collins.

With a lecherous grin he no doubt thought was attractive, Billy waved to her. Elizabeth grimaced--which he undoubtedly took as a smile, since he headed in her direction.

"Good morning, Elizabeth," Charlie said.

"Morning, Charlie. How's Jane?"

"Feeling a little under the weather, but that's to be expected, with a baby coming."

Elizabeth smiled. Jane had told no one but her husband and sister that she was having a baby, not wanting her mother to make a great fuss over her. Soon, however, the news would have to be revealed, and although she would never say it to Jane, Elizabeth dreaded the day it happened, since it would be one more thing her mother had against Elizabeth's continuing employment.

"Good morning, my lovely little tulip," Billy said, lecherous grin growing.

Elizabeth groaned. She was two inches taller than Billy--what was this "little" nonsense? "I'm allergic to tulips," she muttered.

"Must not get kissed much," he replied, laughing. When neither Elizabeth nor Charlie laughed along, he broke off. "Say, Betsy, I heard about this great deli nearby. How about lunch this afternoon?"

Elizabeth bristled at his use of the name "Betsy." She was rather particular about her name--no "Lizzy" or "Betsy" for her. Not even "Beth." She was Elizabeth to everyone except her father and Jane, who called her Lisa when they were alone. Elizabeth had once thought that when she fell in love, the man would call her Lisa, but her height and lack of beauty made her realize long ago that there would be no man to call her that.

"It's Elizabeth and I'm having lunch with my sister today." If she was feeling up to it, that was.

"Then how about dinner? There is a fantastic restaurant not three blocks from my apartment--"

"I'm eating with the de Bourghs this evening."

"Oh." Billy frowned, but a moment later he perked up again. "Need an escort? I think it would look good to Mrs. de Bourgh, if you--"

"I think it would be presumptuous," Elizabeth replied. "Mrs. de Bourgh invited me alone. Another guest may upset her."

"Oh. Well, another time then."

Charlie coughed. Elizabeth smiled at him, knowing he was barely able to hold back his laughter.

"Good morning!" a soft, cheerful voice called. Walking up the street to them was Charlotte Lucas and Susan Price, who always met a few blocks from the store and walked together.

Billy, having been rebuffed by Elizabeth, cheerfully moved on to his fellow co-workers.

"Excited about dinner with the boss?" Charlie asked her now that they were by themselves.

"Nervous," she replied. "I've never been to 'Rosings Park' before. I've heard that it's splendid, though."

"I'm sure you'll be just fine. Just imagine--you there with Mrs. de Bourgh--and Mr. de Bourgh--and little Hannah."

"'Little' Hannah, I hear, is a rather pretty eighteen-year-old. Her mother's sending her to college in September." And Elizabeth would never admit to anyone that she was jealous, having always wanted to go to college herself. There was never money for it, though, even before the Depression.

"All the better for her, because I hear she's a bit plain." Charlie looked around before saying that.

"Some of us aren't fortunate to be as pretty as Jane."

"Who isn't fortunate enough to be as pretty as Jane?" a slightly shrill voice asked as she walked up the sidewalk to them.

Caroline Wickham dressed meticulously, every outfit she owned showed her off to good advantage. She was just the sort of woman Elizabeth despised. Not because she was pretty, because Jane Bingley was ten times prettier and Elizabeth would've liked her even if they weren't related, but because she was forever flaunting it.

Elizabeth was the hardest-working sales girl at De Bourghs', yes, but Caroline was the most popular because she flirted with the male customers who came into the shop. With the female customers, she was flattering and demure, and only when they looked away did she roll her eyes or make a face at them. And only after they were out the door did she bother to say what she really thought about them. Most of it wasn't complementary.

"Good morning, Caroline," Elizabeth said.

"Good morning. Who isn't fortunate enough to be as pretty as Jane?"

So much for trying to evade the subject. Elizabeth and Charlie glanced at each other, then Charlie said, "I do not believe you wish to know. You wouldn't like the comparison."

Elizabeth almost laughed, since Charlie was rarely one to be unkind to anyone. Caroline Wickham, however, was an exception. With a small, injured sniff, Caroline walked over to talk with Billy Collins, who was repugnant but could always be counted on to flatter her.

"She's still grateful Jane's gone," Elizabeth said.

"Of course, for no one could compare to Jane." Charlie smiled the smile of a man besotted, and Elizabeth, as she sometimes did when she was in a wistful mood, felt a small pang of envy. She wished she could have Jane's happiness.

But, she thought with an inward sigh, it was never meant to be. She hadn't been given a great deal except an imposing height, pretty eyes, and a sharp mind. She was making the best of what the Good Lord gave her.

A taxi pulled up to the corner shop, and before anyone could blink, Billy Collins was there to hold the door open for Mrs. de Bourgh. For a bulky man, he was swift at times, but Elizabeth reasoned that he had to be in order to make as many deliveries a day as he did sometimes. It was his quickness alone which kept him employed at De Bourghs'.

Mrs. de Bourgh stepped out of the taxi without bothering to acknowledge Billy. She looked at her little group of employees with a small smile, feeling, as she always did, a bit paternalistic towards them. She sometimes saw them as she did the shop, children in need of her guidance. Charlie needed someone to sharpen him up, but he was gentle at heart and handsome to boot. Charlotte was efficient and quiet, while Susan bustled with so much energy that sometimes she got a little too enthusiastic. Billy--well, the only thing she could say about him was he got the job done with little hassle. Caroline was like a rebellious teen-ager, needing only a guiding hand to mature her. As for Elizabeth, who was the most like a daughter to her, there was little Mrs. de Bourgh saw in her that needed changing or guidance. And if they fought occasionally, well, that was all right as well. She wished her Hannah showed a tenth of the spunk that Miss Bennet did sometimes.

"Good morning, Mrs. de Bourgh," everyone chorused.

"Good morning," she replied with a smile.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. It appeared today was going to be a good day.

Mrs. de Bourgh approached one of their front windows, which currently had a very pretty set of luggage for display. "Who came up with this window?" she asked, a small frown replacing the smile as she decided whether or not she liked it.

"I did, Mrs. de Bourgh," Charlie said.

Mrs. de Bourgh looked at the eager young man, who had tipped his hat in deference to her, then back at the display. Her smile reappeared--the window was tastefully done. "It's nice."

"Thank you, Mrs. de Bourgh!" Charlie said, tipping his hat again and beaming.

Mrs. de Bourgh unlocked the door, and the shop was open for business once again.

A Man So Humbled

Posted on Wednesday, 07-Oct-98

De Bourghs' had been open for almost two hours and there had only been three customers in the shop. When no one was around, the employees spent a good deal of their time pretending to be working, but mostly gossiping or talking about the Yankees, the world, and of course, the Depression.

Elizabeth had told no one, not even Jane, of the letters she'd been sending back and forth with her mysterious penpal. But, having talked about everything interesting with Charlie and there being no customers in the shop, she decided that she would tell someone about him.

"Charlie?" Elizabeth was a bit nervous as she led him back into the stock room under the pretext of putting away traveling bags. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Of course," he replied.

Elizabeth pulled the latest letter from her penpal out of the pocket of her skirt with hurried movements.

"What's that?"

"A letter from this man I've been corresponding with."

"That's terrific, Elizabeth! Who is he? Why haven't you mentioned him to your mother? And why do you want it kept secret?"

Elizabeth sighed. "Because I don't know who he is. I answered a personal ad in the paper."

Charlie's eyebrows must have shot up four inches. "Your mother detests those things."

"I know--she thinks that girls who answer them are modern and shameful. But Charlie, I couldn't resist this one. This man wrote that he was intelligent and sympathetic, and that he was seeking someone like him for anonymous correspondence."

"So he doesn't know who you are, either."

"No. That's the great thing. We're getting to know each other without ever having met. And we talk about the most interesting things."

"How long has this been going on?"

"Not long--only a couple of months. We've exchanged five letters so far. This one came this morning. Want to hear some of his thoughts?"

"Well, if you're willing to share them with me, I wouldn't be disinclined to hear."

Elizabeth opened the letter, peeked out the door to see what the other employees were up to, then began to read.

Dear Friend,

There are times when I wish that I were better-prepared for the world than I am. You see, before the Depression struck, I was never the sort who would need to wonder what the future held for him. I knew exactly what it would be--a never-ending parade of society parties, "gentlemanly" pursuits, eventually a dull, proper society wife and proper, well-brought-up children.

Now the future is mine to command, and for that reason alone I am grateful for what has happened. At times, I miss some of the things I used to have--money, of course, it tends to be important, and I miss my old home. It was quite lovely. And I absolutely detest the trouble I have keeping a job. But when I think of everything I have gained, I wonder if perhaps the first twenty-seven years of my life were a depressing dream, and the past four have been a slow awakening.

"Isn't that lovely?" Elizabeth asked with a smile.

"Certainly interesting," Charlie agreed. "So you say you have no idea who he is?"

"No. Can't you see why this works well for me? He has no idea that I'm not pretty, and that I'm a veritable giant."

"But you don't know what he looks like, either."

"He's probably a lot like me! Who else would place an ad like that?"

"Excellent point. So you wouldn't mind having a plain man for a husband?"

Elizabeth grimaced. "I think you've been around my mother too long. I have no intention of getting married anytime soon. I barely know this man. But if there comes a time when I fall in love with him, or some other person, I would not care what he looked like. In fact, an ordinary person would do so much better for me, because then he wouldn't be disappointed in me."

"Elizabeth," Charlie said in a moment of pure gallantry, and because the occasion seemed to call for it, "any man who would be disappointed in you isn't worthy of your attention."

"Miss Bennet!" Mrs. de Bourgh called.

Elizabeth sighed. "I'm being summoned," she said. "Thank you, Charlie." She kissed him on the cheek, folded her letter and put it back in her pocket, then walked out of the stock room and back onto the main floor of De Bourghs'.

"Yes, Mrs. de Bourgh?" Elizabeth could put soldiers to shame with her ramrod straight posture, her eyes looking directly at her employer and eager to know what was wanted of her.

Mrs. de Bourgh was holding a small box in her hand, smiling as she looked down at it. "Take a look at what was just sent over to me from The Laszlo Company."

It appeared to be a cigarette box, and to Elizabeth's expert eye, a rather cheap one at that. Why did Mrs. de Bourgh keep looking at it as though it were made of gold?

"It's...interesting," Elizabeth said diplomatically.

"Ah, but its appearance isn't the best thing about it." Mrs. de Bourgh opened the box and a tinkling little tune began. Elizabeth thought she recognized it.

"Why, Mrs. de Bourgh, it's playing Mozart!" Caroline Wickham walked over to where they were standing, smiling. "Such a lovely little tune. 'Voi che sapete,' is it not?"

Mrs. de Bourgh beamed at her employee's knowledge of the song. "It is, indeed. I'm supposed to call Laszlo Company back in just a few minutes with my decision, but I was wondering what you thought of it. I just want your opinion. Your honest opinion, that's all I want."

Out of the corner of her eye, Elizabeth saw Charlie, who had been about to come out of the stock room. He ducked back into the room the moment Mrs. de Bourgh mentioned that she wanted an opinion on something. Mrs. de Bourgh tended to scoff at Charlie's opinions.

"Well, Mrs. de Bourgh," Elizabeth said gently, since it was clear that her employer was attached to this item, "I think it's...interesting, but it's not for De Bourghs'."

"Why not? A cigarette box that plays 'Voi che sapete'! I am certain that people would love such a novelty. Miss Price!" Mrs. de Bourgh turned to Susan Price, who had been listening without comment. "What do you think of this box?"

"I think that people who like to smoke cigarettes and listen to Mozart will like it," Susan said diplomatically.

"I'll go even further," Caroline said with an ingratiating grin. "I think it will make cigarette smokers out of music lovers and music lovers out of cigarette smokers. I think it's sensational."

Mrs. de Bourgh, pleased that her other employees seemed to like the box, turned again to her best and favorite employee. "Well, Miss Bennet, do you think perhaps it is a good idea now?"

"No, Mrs. de Bourgh." Elizabeth hated to be the one who deflated Mrs. de Bourgh's hope for this box, but she knew that it wasn't something that would sell well at the shop. "I still think it's...inadvisable."

"Give me one good reason!" Mrs. de Bourgh was frowning.

"Well, Mrs. de Bourgh, think about it this way. Say a man smokes twenty cigarettes a day. This means that twenty times a day he has to open that box and listen to 'Voi che sapete,' which would surely grate on his nerves in time. Besides that, the box has been put together rather cheaply, made out of imitation leather and in two weeks the whole thing will fall apart leaving you with nothing more than 'Voi che sapete.' It's a terrible idea and not worthy of De Bourghs'."

Mrs. de Bourgh knew that Elizabeth was right, but she was too attached to the item to just leave it by the wayside simply because it wasn't perfect. "I know it's imitation leather. I've been in this business longer than you've been alive and I knew that."

Elizabeth walked away from Mrs. de Bourgh with a small grin on her face. The telephone rang. Charlotte answered it, listened for a moment, then said, "Mrs. de Bourgh, The Laszlo Company is on the phone in regards to the cigarette box."

"Oh..." Mrs. de Bourgh walked over and picked up the phone. Elizabeth kept her eye on her employer, wondering if she intended to place orders for the cigarette box in spite of Elizabeth's objections. "Good morning, Mr. Laszlo. What...well, I think perhaps...I need a little more time to decide about it...yes...no, it isn't the price...just a little time..." She frowned, and there was a small gleam in her eye that warned Elizabeth of an explosion. "You can't expect me to make up my mind in five minutes! Well, if that's the case, then no, I'm sorry, we won't be taking any."

Mrs. de Bourgh hung up the phone and glared at it for a moment. Then she retreated to her office, slamming the door behind her.

"Was it necessary to be so antagonistic?" Caroline grumbled. "Now she'll be in a lousy mood all afternoon, and over a lousy cigarette box, no less."

"If you had been honest, I wouldn't have to be antagonistic."

"I was honest."

"Then why did you just call that 'lousy cigarette box' sensational?"

"Because it never hurts to assuage your boss's ego," Caroline said. "I'm amazed you haven't learned that in the eight years you've been here. How you ever managed to become the head salesgirl is beyond me."

"Perhaps Mrs. de Bourgh appreciates someone who will be honest with her," Elizabeth replied, breezing by Caroline and her sharp tongue. She was in no mood to talk with her today.

The bell over the shop's door tinkled, and someone entered the store.

Elizabeth was, as she always was, rushing to the door in the hopes of being some assistance to the customer, but even she stopped short as she took a good look at the man.

He was tall--Lord, was he tall! She was five-eleven and she had to look up at him. Thick brown hair with red highlights waved becomingly. His eyes were the most magnificent shade of green that Elizabeth had ever seen, a green that rivaled emeralds for their brilliance. He wasn't handsome by any stretch of the imagination, but he was far from ordinary. Striking, perhaps...or distinguished. Yes, distinguished was the word to describe his profile.

At the moment, he was looking around the store with no little bit of disdain in his eyes. He then looked at her.

"Good morning," Elizabeth said with a smile, thinking that although his looks were interesting to her, his attitude wasn't. "Is there anything I can help you find?"

"No, not at the moment," he said with a heavy sigh.

"Oh, well, if there's anything I can help you with, please just let me know."

He looked around the shop again, and it seemed as though he'd rather be anywhere but where he was.

But if that was the case, why was he there?

"Excuse me, ma'am, but I noticed that you were having a summer sale."

"Yes, we are. Everything in the store is marked down today," Elizabeth said in her best businesslike manner, relieved that he was going to make a purchase. On a slow day like today, he might well be one of her only customers. "For instance, do you see these wallets? They're absolutely lovely, and yesterday you couldn't get them for a penny less than $5.50. Today they're $3.95."

"They're...interesting," he said, obviously thinking the opposite.

Elizabeth bridled at his use of the word.

"I guess you're going to have a lot of business, then," he said.

"We fully expect to," she replied briskly, thinking the question a bit odd. "You're lucky that you're here early. Later today you probably wouldn't have been able to get in the door."

"Then you'll be taking on some extra help?"

Elizabeth frowned, something she knew she shouldn't do to a customer. She wasn't quite sure what his questions were leading to. "Well, we probably will."

"Then maybe you could use me. I'm looking for a job."

Elizabeth didn't feel nearly so bad about frowning at him now. In fact, she felt a bit deceived. He'd let her go through her whole routine without bothering to mention that he was just looking for a job. "That wasn't very nice, making me go through all that," she said.

"I do apologize, ma'am..."

"It's miss. Miss Bennet."

"Do you think it would be possible for me to see Mrs. de Bourgh?"

"Ah, well, I don't think that's such a good idea today. Right now we're not doing any hiring."

"But you just said that you were going to have to hire someone to keep up with the rush!" he objected.

Elizabeth gave him a pointed glance, then swept her arm around the empty shop. "Well, take a look around, sir. You can see how we're doing for yourself."

The man's shoulders slumped, then he straightened. "May I give you my qualifications?"

"Sir, please don't--"

"I've been working at Fisher and Sons for a year and a half and I left of my own accord. I worked briefly at the Laszlo Company--"

"Sir, even if you'd worked at Hirsch & Company--"

"I did! I know how to take care of the finest clientele."

"But we don't get those kind of customers here. Our customers tend to be more middle-class."

"What do you think Fisher and Sons clients were? And they'd take me back right this minute."

"Then why don't you go back there?"

He hesitated. "Well, that's a long story and I don't want to get into it. Look, ma--Miss Bennet, all I'm asking is to see Mrs. de Bourgh for a few minutes. I think it's in your best interest to do so, because she'll be upset if she doesn't get to talk to me."

Now he was pulling that superior attitude on her, and Elizabeth again felt her temper rise. Tamping it down, she said, "I don't think Mrs. de Bourgh is in the mood to speak to someone about a job. She's sort of in a strange mood today."

"I only need to see her for a minute."

"Sir, I've known and worked with Catherine de Bourgh for eight years and I know her inside and out. I know exactly what she would say if she were standing here right now and I'm sorry to say that she'd tell you it was impossible."

As Elizabeth had been making her speech, Mrs. de Bourgh had walked out of her office and had listened to Elizabeth's words. Caroline Wickham watched the most attentively and with no small bit of amusement.

"Miss Bennet?"

Elizabeth almost groaned, and the man--did he give her a name?--smiled.

"Could I have a word with you, please?"

Elizabeth turned to face her employer. She knew she was in for a tongue-lashing. "Yes, Mrs. de Bourgh?"

Surprisingly, her boss kept her voice low. "So, you know everything about me? You know exactly what I'm going to say before I say it? You must be a mind reader!"

"But Mrs. de Bourgh--"

"And I'm surprised that you didn't recognize this young man."

"I've never met him in my life. He's not a customer."

"No, Miss Bennet, he isn't. He's a relative from the Darcy side of the family."

Elizabeth turned pale, and for the first time, she wondered if perhaps her job was in jeopardy. Even though the Darcys and de Bourghs were pretty much separate entities now, Catherine de Bourgh was big on family.

With a warm smile, Mrs. de Bourgh turned to the man. "Hello. I'm Catherine de Bourgh. Which of the Darcys are you?"

"I'm Fitzwilliam Darcy--Liam. We're only distantly related--"

"Nonsense. I feel there is no such thing as a distant relative, except in terms of geography. Please, have a seat."

Mrs. de Bourgh was treating him better than he'd thought she would. He gave a triumphant smile at the little salesgirl who had so annoyed him a moment ago.

"Thank you," he said, sitting down. She sat beside him.

"Whose son are you?" Mrs. de Bourgh asked.

"Uh...George and Anne's."

"Of course! How are your parents?"

"They're...well, ma'am, to be completely honest, they're struggling. We all are."

"Oh. Are you alone here in town?"

"Yes, ma'am. They're still in Buffalo. I was wondering--"

"I'm surprised you haven't come to see me before this."

"Well, you know how some members of your family talk about mine."

"They're complete fools and their fight isn't mine. We'll put all that behind us now, Liam. You simply must come to dinner this evening!"

Elizabeth almost gasped aloud. Dear Lord, she'd been dreading this dinner enough--now she was going to have to endure his company?

"Well, of course, I'd love to join you for dinner, but Mrs. de Bourgh--"

"Catherine. You must call me Catherine."

"Er...Catherine...that's not why I came here today. You see, I was at Fisher and Sons--"

"Ach! Such dreadful things at that shop. You'll find something much nicer here."

"No, I wasn't shopping there. I worked there. And I'm looking for a job now."

Mrs. de Bourgh frowned. "Oh, no! Oh, it's impossible! I'm sorry, Liam, but...still, come to dinner tonight!" Abruptly, she stood up and rushed back to her office.

Elizabeth looked at the young man, who had just been revealed to be a member of the high and mighty Darcy family.

A moment ago, he'd been somewhat disdainful and arrogant. It was exactly what she would've expected from such a man, but now...

He looked dejected. He looked sad, almost at the end of his possibilities. He looked almost humbled. He may have once been one of the Darcys, but now he was just like everyone else--a desperate man needing a job. Maybe he had a wife and children to support.

Elizabeth couldn't help but feel sorry for him as she walked over to where he was sitting.

"Look," she said softly, "you really kind of came at a bad time for us. Maybe in a couple weeks, when we're finished with inventory, we'll need someone then."

He gave her such a look of hope that her heart caught in her throat. Mercy, but he could be very attractive when he wanted to be.

"You'll think of me first, right?"

"Absolutely," she replied.

"Do you have a piece of paper?" he asked. She found one on the counter and handed him her pencil. He wrote down his name and telephone number on it. "You can contact me there. If I'm not home, let my landlord know that you have a business message for Liam. He'll pass it along."

"I'll be sure to do that," Elizabeth said. As he handed her the note, his fingers brushed hers and Elizabeth felt a slight tingle. With a puzzled expression on her face, she put the piece of paper in her pocket and walked back to the storage room.

The Sales Pitch

Posted on Wednesday, 14-Oct-98

"Miss Bennet!"

Elizabeth heard the tension in Mrs. de Bourgh's voice and knew that she needed to show herself quickly. She hurried out of the stock room and into the shop.

"Yes, Mrs. de Bourgh?"

"Step into my office, please."

Elizabeth passed a worried-looking Charlotte and a smug Caroline as she made her way into Mrs. de Bourgh's office. She fully expected to be chastised for being a bit rude to Mrs. de Bourgh's cousin. At least she was doing this in the privacy of her office rather than in front of the other staff members. Still, she could expect Caroline to listen at the door if she thought she wouldn't get caught.

"Close the door," Mrs. de Bourgh said as Elizabeth entered. Elizabeth did as she was told. With a heavy sigh, Mrs. de Bourgh continued. "Elizabeth, why did you make me go through that scene with Liam Darcy?"

Elizabeth frowned. "Forgive me, Mrs. de Bourgh, but it wasn't my fault."

"It wasn't? Whose fault was it, then? Mine?"

"Well...yes. I would've explained to you that the young man was looking for a job, but you didn't let me. And I'd never met any of the Darcy family before, which was why I didn't know who he was."

Actually, that wasn't true. Elizabeth had finally remembered that she had seen him before, several years ago, right before the Depression. He'd been featured in one of the Society pages as one of New York's premier bachelors. Even back then, Elizabeth hadn't liked the disdainful look in his eyes.

"What's gotten into you today? You're my oldest and most trusted employee, and you've been disagreeing with me all morning."

"Very well, ma'am, from now on I'll agree with you." Although Elizabeth hated the idea, sometimes Caroline's tactics were better than her own. "If you ask for my opinion on something, then I'll say, 'Yes, Mrs. de Bourgh.'"

Catherine de Bourgh knew quite well that Elizabeth would do no such thing, at least not for very long. She smiled. "I hope you're looking forward to this evening."

"I am."

"You aren't nervous, are you?"

"No, not at all."

"Good! Good. You know, I've talked about you so much to Hannah and Alfred that they're dying to meet you."

Elizabeth somehow doubted that.

"You know, Elizabeth, I've singled you out above all my employees because I see something in you that reminds me of myself. You're determined and intelligent and clearly not one of those girls who intends to work until she finds a husband."

"Well, ma'am, you know that it isn't likely I'll ever find a husband."

"Nonsense. Any man would be lucky to have you." Mrs. de Bourgh smiled. "Liam was quite handsome, wasn't he?"

"Now, Mrs. de Bourgh, don't go getting any ideas. I'm sure that someone like Liam Darcy would have nothing to do with me if the Depression hadn't come." Elizabeth remembered that already she was disagreeing with her employer, and even after she'd said she wouldn't. "But yes, Mrs. de Bourgh, he is handsome."

There was a knock at the door, and Charles stuck his head in to say, "Excuse me, Mrs. de Bourgh, but I think I've found a buyer for that cigarette box."

Mrs. de Bourgh brightened. "Wonderful!"

"What price should I give him?"

"Let me see...I bought it for $1.95, so we'll try selling if for $4.25." Mrs. de Bourgh and Elizabeth walked out of the office to see who had been interested in the box.

They found Liam Darcy holding the box, which was opened to play its tune.

"I'll take care of this, Mrs. de Bourgh," Elizabeth said. She walked over to the man. "Look, Mr. Darcy, I said we'd call you when there was an opening and I'll keep my word. You'll be the first one we call."

Elizabeth was about to continue to try getting him out of the shop when Mrs. de Bourgh said, "Just a moment, Miss Bennet. Tell me, Liam, what do you think of this box?"

"What I think?"

"Yes. I'd like to have your opinion. Your honest opinion. That's all I want."

Charles, hearing those dangerous words, abruptly disappeared into the employees' locker room. Elizabeth would've chuckled but she was too preoccupied.

"Well, I think it's nice. And I've always loved Mozart."

Mrs. de Bourgh beamed. "Would you buy it?"

"Unfortunately, Mrs. de Bourgh, I can't afford to buy anything right now."

"No, I mean, would you buy it if you could?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Why?" This seemed to puzzle him. "Because...because it's romantic."

"Romantic?" Elizabeth scoffed. "What's romantic about it?"

"I think of moonlight, and cigarettes and music and...and of giving this lovely box to a young lady who would appreciate such things."

"Ah, see, a romantic young man's point of view." Mrs. de Bourgh beamed and looked pointedly at Elizabeth.

"Yes, Mrs. de Bourgh." Elizabeth walked away, seeing two customers come in.

Liam Darcy asked Mrs. de Bourgh softly, "How much are you selling this for?"

"Uh...$4.25."

"Four twenty-five?" In a louder voice, Liam said, "That's a bargain! That's a real bargain!"

One of Elizabeth's customers, who had drifted over to look at some purses, overheard Liam's comment and looked interested. Liam clutched the box in his hand and walked over to the woman.

"Good morning, madam," he said.

"Good morning," she replied. She looked at the box.

"It's quite a lovely item, isn't it?"

"Yes. It's a candy box, isn't it?"

"Actually, madam, it's--" Mrs. de Bourgh was about to correct her.

"Yes, madam, it's a candy box," Liam said before she could speak. "And I must say, quite an unusual one. May I?" He lifted the lid and "Voi che sapete" began to play.

"That's 'Voi che sapete.' Isn't it nice?" Mrs. de Bourgh said.

"Oh, heavens, no! That would never do!" the woman laughed. "Where do people get ideas like that? Every time you opened that box, you'd have to listen to that song."

Elizabeth smothered her laughter, but could not contain her smile as the customer confirmed her own reservations about the box. Mrs. de Bourgh frowned at her, but said nothing.

"That's an excellent point, madam, but this little box has been a rather popular item for us, especially with ladies."

"It has? How so?" The woman looked suspicious.

"Well, there's no denying that each and every one of us has a weakness for candy." Liam looked the woman over. She was a bit on the plump side, and for a second, he was afraid he might've offended her. "Which isn't anything against candy, but...we tend to overdo it a little."

"I suppose so," the woman said with a smile.

"You know why we do it? Because we eat candy absentmindedly. We pick up a piece and then another, and so on and so forth until we've gained a few pounds. And that's when the troubles begin. All sorts of dreadful things just because we don't think about how many pieces of candy we eat a day."

"I suppose you're right."

Liam could sense the woman starting to cave in. "Now, this little box makes you candy-conscious. It's what De Bourghs' designed it for."

"Really?"

"Yes. Every time you open it up to pick up a piece of candy, that tinkly little song is a reminder to you. 'Too much candy--now be careful.'"

The customer looked over the box again and smiled. "How much is it?"

Liam thought fast. "Five-fifty. It's reduced from $6.95. A real bargain, madam, wouldn't you agree?"

The woman nodded her head. "I'll take it."

With gratitude in his eyes and his voice, Liam said, "Thank you, madam." He then looked over at Mrs. de Bourgh, who looked suitably impressed. He had a feeling that she was about to change her mind about that job.

Mrs. de Bourgh turned to Elizabeth. "Well, Miss Bennet, what do you think now?"

"I think that people who like to smoke candy and listen to cigarettes will love it." With that, she turned and walked toward the employees' locker room just as Charlie walked out of it.

Mrs. de Bourgh turned to her cousin. "Perhaps I was a bit hasty, Liam. Do you really like this box, though?"

"Yes."

"Because I'd like to have your opinion. Your honest opinion. That's all I want!"

Charlie turned and headed back to the employees' entrance before he could be singled out. Liam didn't notice, and fortunately for Charlie, neither did Mrs. de Bourgh. She motioned for Liam to join her in her office.

Dear Friend,

I've had a dreadful day and the only thing that brightened it was your letter. It's amazing to me how much I've come to depend on your letters in such a short time.

You mentioned in your last letter that you had trouble keeping a job. If there is something I've become an expert at, it's how to maintain a sense of balance when it comes to work. Although you do at times have to endure dreadful employers and equally dreadful co-workers, sometimes the best thing to do is to find something to keep your mind off of your troubles. I like walking. I like to read. And of course, now I have your letters...

Dinner at Eight

Posted on Tuesday, 20-Oct-98

Elizabeth dressed with extreme care that evening. She had, the same day Mrs. De Bourgh invited her to dinner, gone out and splurged on a most becoming dress of green--a shade of green to rival the eyes of...

Elizabeth groaned. She'd done a great job of putting Liam Darcy out of her mind since she'd left work. Only now, seeing the dress she'd bought months ago, did he return to her thoughts. Maybe she shouldn't wear it. He might think she'd dressed in this color deliberately.

The moment after she thought that, she told herself that she was being silly. She had ever right to wear the dress. So she put it on, arranged her stubborn dark hair in its usual knot at the base of her neck, and left. For the occasion, she splurged a bit more and spent money for a taxi to take her to Mrs. De Bourgh's home. She had reason to believe that her salary would be increasing soon, and so the expense would be well worth it.

Indeed, Elizabeth had great hopes that she would soon be made the manager of De Bourghs', the first woman (excepting the current owner) to have achieved such a status. And she would have earned her position, which was even more astounding to some of the men she knew. Mrs. De Bourgh had been talking about spending more time with her husband once Hannah was off to college. She'd hinted that she trusted Elizabeth enough to leave her in charge.

This dinner, in Elizabeth's eyes, was a giant step toward attaining her goal.

She'd endure even Liam Darcy for that.

The taxi pulled to a stop in front of a grand home in one of the most fashionable parts of the city. Elizabeth paid the driver and sent him on his way. She looked up at the house. Its size wasn't as impressive to Elizabeth as the fact that only one family lived in a space that would've served for at least three or four families in her neighborhood. She speculated that she would see at least one room in this mansion that would be larger than her entire apartment.

The door opened only moments after she'd knocked. The butler was short but stood as though he were wearing a steel brace. "Yes, miss?" He somehow managed to seem as though he were looking down at her, as though he knew exactly how much her green dress had cost and was unimpressed with the expense. When Elizabeth had bought it, she thought it was decadent. Now she felt almost cheap.

"I'm Elizabeth Bennet. Mrs. De Bourgh invited me to dinner," she said, gathering her courage and staring right back at the man.

He blinked several times, seeming to decide whether or not he should let her in. Finally, he said, "Come in." He stepped aside to allow her entry.

The moment Elizabeth stepped into the foyer she felt outclassed. The sheer opulence of the room overwhelmed her. For a moment, she felt an overwhelming urge to turn and run out the door, but then she saw a shadow appear at the opposite end of the hall.

"Miss Bennet! You're right on time!" Mrs. De Bourgh said with a smile.

"Good evening, Mrs. De Bourgh." With her boss in the room, Elizabeth felt a bit more confident. Not much, but enough.

"Come into our parlor. We're still awaiting Liam."

Perhaps he won't show.

Mrs. De Bourgh led Elizabeth to a room where a tall man about the same age as Mrs. De Bourgh and a tiny, fragile-looking young lady a few years younger than Elizabeth stood waiting. Elizabeth presumed them to be Mr. Alfred de Bourgh and their daughter Hannah. Mrs. De Bourgh's introduction proved her correct.

Hannah acknowledged her with a small nod. Alfred de Bourgh, however, took her hand in his warm one and shook it heartily and long. Once her hand was free, Elizabeth resisted the urge to wipe her hand on her skirt as his hand was somewhat sweaty.

Before any sort of conversation could commence, there was another knock at the door. Liam Darcy was shown into the parlor along with a trio of Hannah's school friends. Elizabeth, who had thought there would only be four at table, suddenly realized that this evening would not see her getting a promotion. Her stomach churned with bitterness, even though she knew there had been no reason to assume that she'd be promoted.

Mrs. De Bourgh called from them to adjourn to the dining hall.

"How long have you worked for De Bourghs', Miss Bennet?" one of Hannah's friends asked. Elizabeth had trouble keeping them straight--they were named Annabelle, Annabeth, and Annamarie, and they were practically identical to Hannah in size and fragility. And attitude. The "Annas," as she called them in her mind, sat across from Elizabeth.

Elizabeth found herself unfortunately situated between Mr. de Bourgh and Liam Darcy. Liam, for all intents and purposes, was ignoring her while Mr. de Bourgh seemed to show an unusual interest in her.

He also seemed a little too interested in Hannah's friends, which made Elizabeth wonder if there was something wrong with his marriage. But she was just an employee, and such a question would likely cost her her job.

"I've been with De Bourghs' for about eight years," she replied. She looked at the caviar that was sitting in a gooey heap on her plate and swallowed heavily. She'd already come close to being sick after eating the goose liver. This caviar looked like it would taste worse than that, so Elizabeth studiously ignored it and hoped no one noticed that she wasn't eating.

"Indeed," Mrs. De Bourgh said. "Elizabeth was the only employee I didn't fire when I took over the shop. Whereas the others were lazy shiftabouts, Miss Bennet worked so hard I wondered whether or not I was even needed at the store."

"I dare say you weren't," Mr. de Bourgh said. "Miss Bennet here probably could've handled things quite well."

Why did it seem as though he had a second meaning to that sentence? Elizabeth frowned.

"Why did you not consider hiring a man to run the shop so you would not have to be bothered?" Liam asked. "I am certain a man could have done a most competent job."

Elizabeth nearly spit out the champagne she'd just drank. "Do you mean to insinuate, Mr. Darcy, that Mrs. De Bourgh hasn't run the shop adequately?" she asked acidly.

Everyone looked at him. Liam flushed and looked distinctly uncomfortable, but he said, "No, Miss Bennet. I detract nothing from our hostess's achievement. I merely don't see the need for her to have done so."

"The last shop manager was a thief," Elizabeth said. "And so was the man before him. Mrs. De Bourgh had to take over herself to insure that things were back to proper order. Surely you can understand why she might be reluctant to trust a man."

"Miss Bennet, I believe you misunderstood me. What I was wondering was why Mrs. de Bourgh took over instead of Mr. de Bourgh."

The caviar was whisked away, to Elizabeth's relief, and the first decent food items appeared on the table--what appeared to be French onion soup. The change in courses allowed everyone to pretend to forget Liam's audacious question.

Everyone except Elizabeth, who wondered what the meaning behind his question was. She waited until the soup was replaced by Cornish game hens and some green vegetable Elizabeth couldn't identify to ask her question.

"Mr. Darcy, your earlier question seems to suggest to me that you don't approve of women working," she said.

Liam stuck a hunk of meat in his mouth to give himself time to think about his reply. Once he'd swallowed, he replied, "Not when there is a perfectly healthy man to take care of them, I don't."

Elizabeth smiled sweetly. "Are you of the opinion that women should think only of getting married and having children?"

"Men in this country have enough trouble getting jobs without the added problem of women who think they should work to prove some antiquated point."

"Meaning that since women have the right to vote they should be happy with that and be content to continue to stay home, being at a man's mercy and being in his shadow?"

"Forgive me, Miss Bennet, but I believe that a woman's place is in the home."

"What about widows who must work to support their children? Wives whose husbands are incapacitated? Young women who cannot find a man to marry? Daughters who must support elderly parents?"

"Which of those four necessitates your work, Miss Bennet?" Liam asked coldly.

Elizabeth turned scarlet, his meaning clear to everyone at the table--that she was unattractive enough to find a husband. "None of them," she said. "I work because I want to work. Perhaps it's an 'antiquated point' to you, but I'm an intelligent, honest young woman and I believe with all my heart that there isn't a single man who can do my job as well as I."

"Well said, Miss Bennet," Mrs. De Bourgh said. "That was the reason I took over the shop, Liam. I grew up in the trade, and Alfred hadn't. There was no reason for him to start when I could do it just as well."

"No doubt better than I," Mr. de Bourgh added, raising his champagne glass. "A toast to liberated ladies. May they always be around."

After draining the contents of his glass, he motioned for more to drink. As soon as the servant had refilled his glass and stepped away, Elizabeth felt a hand on her knee. Liam Darcy's hands were both on the table.

Elizabeth turned to look at Alfred de Bourgh, who was smiling at her. Elizabeth wanted to shout out that everyone knew the truth about Catherine de Bourgh's taking over the shop--her husband preferred the horse races and afternoons at his gentleman's clubs to the reality of how his pleasures were financed.

But his hand on her knee blocked all that out. She had to get him to stop that, and the urgency grew as his hand started to move higher up her leg.

The Annas talked about how they hoped going to college would insure that they would not fall to the dreadful fate of having to work, while Mrs. De Bourgh tried to encourage them that there were benefits to it. Liam took the opportunity of the distraction of the other guests to eat his meal. He ate like he wouldn't be eating again for a while.

Elizabeth surreptitiously removed her butter knife from the table. As Mr. de Bourgh's hand started to move again, she jabbed at it.

"OUCH!" Mr. de Bourgh howled, drawing his hand away.

"Alfred! What is the matter?" Mrs. De Bourgh appeared quite worried. Alfred glared at Elizabeth, who glared right back.

"I think I accidentally cut him," she said. "I lost my grip on my knife and it fell."

"You are not seriously hurt, are you?" Mrs. De Bourgh asked.

"I'm fine, Catherine."

Elizabeth, however, was not. She'd lost her appetite. This dinner was going even worse than she'd feared.

Elizabeth stepped out of the cab and attempted to pay the driver, who informed her that Mrs. De Bourgh had paid for it. Her stomach was objecting a great deal to everything she'd eaten--and to all the stress she'd been under.

Instead of going to her apartment, Elizabeth had asked to be dropped off at her parents' apartment building. She wanted to tell her father everything that had happened, and she knew he'd still be awake. She only hoped that her mother had had another attack of her nerves and had retired for the night.

She hesitantly opened the door to their apartment.

"Come in, Lisa," Mr. Bennet said quietly. He was sitting in his favorite chair, one that should've been replaced years ago but he stubbornly clung to because it was comfortable. "How was dinner?"

Elizabeth sighed. "Well, Hannah de Bourgh and her little band of friends made me feel like a freak because of my height and then because I was a working girl. Mr. Alfred de Bourgh...is most likely a philanderer, and Mrs. De Bourgh hired her obnoxious cousin today. He insinuated that women had no place in the workforce and then--" Elizabeth could barely think of what she'd overheard Liam Darcy say to Mrs. De Bourgh without wanting to hit something.

"I bet you gave him a scolding he won't soon forget," Mr. Bennet said.

"He won't. Later, when I was returning from the ladies' lounge, he was in Mrs. De Bourgh's study. I heard him ask her if..." Elizabeth swallowed her anger and continued. "If she was certain the managers who used to run the store, were the ones stealing money. He then asked if it was true that she was considering my promotion--and cautioned her against it!"

"A detestable man indeed."

"He was trying to take my job. I just know he was. I've worked so hard and endured so much..."

Mr. Bennet frowned. "She didn't give it to him, did she?"

"No. She laughed at him, because she knew darned well I wasn't the one. We proved those other two were stealing from the company. As for my job...she said she hadn't decided on that yet."

"Oh, Lisa. You must've been so disappointed, since you thought you were going to get the promotion tonight."

"I was--and I am. But what can I do other than keep working and waiting?"

"Nothing, my dear. You'll make it because you're strong." Mr. Bennet smiled affectionately at her.

"Thank you, Papa. I have to be getting home now."

"Let me put on some shoes so I can walk you home."

"No, I can walk alone."

"Lisa, the streets are unsafe for a young lady to go about unescorted."

"It's hardly five blocks, and I'll be just fine. In the mood I'm in, any man thinking of bothering me is in peril of losing years off his life." Elizabeth kissed her father on the forehead. "Besides, you need to stay here and wait for Lydia to come home."

"How did you know she was out?"

"She always is. Good-bye, Papa. See you in the morning."

Despite her assurances to her father, Elizabeth was a bit nervous walking by herself. She rushed home.

She glanced about her small apartment, such a stark contrast to the de Bourghs' home. Elizabeth decided that for all its plainness she far preferred her place to that one. The palace came with a roaming, lazy king and an icy princess...and a very annoying court jester in Liam Darcy.

Elizabeth's hand automatically reached for the letter from her friend. But she'd left it in the pocket of her work skirt, which she found on the floor of her room where she'd hurriedly kicked it aside in preparing for dinner. Elizabeth picked up the skirt and pulled the letter out of the pocket. When she did, a small scrap of paper fell to the floor. She bent down again to pick it up, puzzled by what it was.

Then she remembered. It was Liam Darcy's telephone number, from when he'd been nothing more than an out-of-work down-on-his-luck man. She couldn't believe she'd been so nice to him.

Without bothering to look at it again, Elizabeth crumpled it into a tiny ball and threw it into a waste paper basket.

...I wish there were more men like you in the world. It seems like all the ones I meet are from the Dark Ages. If I could find a man who could accept me for myself, I would be very well pleased. But such a man would hardly be sensible, since I'm not considered attractive and I tend to have a dreadful temper and, heaven forbid, I actually like to work. I wouldn't want to love a fool, so that would end any relationship right there. It's just as well. I've never thought of myself as being capable of grand passion....

Dear Friend,

I suspect you are too harsh on yourself. Do you believe that to love is foolish, or that loving you would be foolish? I fear that you would not like me nearly as much were we to actually meet. I am, at times, a man of strong and stubborn opinions. I can be harsh in my judgment and my temper is implacable. My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.

I wish there were more women like you in the world. You are so refreshing, compared to the women I know. They are either out for marriage or out to change the world. They all have motives of some sort. It is why your letters are so wonderful. I never know what you will say next...

A Woman's Place is Where?

Posted on Tuesday, 03-Nov-98

The dinner at Mrs. De Bourgh's had been on a Friday, which meant that Elizabeth had had two days to think about what had happened that night. On the Monday morning after the dinner, Elizabeth was slowly making her way to work. The weather had turned warm and humid, which didn't bode well for her outfit. As she neared De Bourghs', she turned to look at her reflection in the store window of The Laszlo Company. She frowned when she saw her neatly arranged bun straggling, her nicest blouse sticking to her from perspiration and her once-starched skirt beginning to look wilted. Elizabeth wished she could duck into the store's washroom to straighten her appearance before she arrived at De Bourghs' and had to endure Caroline's comments, but everyone in this part of town knew Elizabeth Bennet, and word would get around if she entered a rival store.

Although that might not be a bad idea. If Mrs. De Bourgh thinks I'm going somewhere else...

Listen to you! That would be utterly disloyal and you know it.

With a sigh, Elizabeth turned away from the window and continued on her way. She made the final turn and stopped a moment to see who was waiting at De Bourghs'. Billy was there, as ever, but to her surprise, Charlie hadn't shown up yet. There was a second person, however, and Elizabeth groaned as she recognized the tall figure as Liam Darcy.

Billy spotted her first. "Ah, my beautiful Betsy! How delightful you look this morning," he said.

"It's Elizabeth," she said, gritting her teeth. "How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"You know something? I think you secretly like being called Betsy, because I know you can't be as rigid as you look. You're far too pretty to be."

Elizabeth glared at him. Billy, however, was either deliberately being obtuse, or far more frightening, he actually was.

"Good morning, Mr. Darcy," she said coolly.

"Miss Bennet." He tipped his head in her direction.

Elizabeth had spent her entire weekend trying to figure out how she was going to act around this man. After all, he had accused her of stealing. And he clearly was after her job, and he hadn't even worked a full day at De Bourghs'.

Elizabeth knew his type. He'd never done an honest day's work before the Depression, and since then he expected to get breaks that other people couldn't. Even worse, he expected them as his due, just because he came from an upper-class background. He'd expected to be made manager of De Bourghs' simply because of his relationship with Mrs. De Bourgh. And when confronted with competition, he did his best to damage her reputation.

And he'd thought it would work, because she was from the Lower East Side...and she was a woman.

Be grateful that it didn't.

She was grateful. But she was also mad at him, and at Mrs. De Bourgh, who was now going to make her work with him even though she knew what he was capable of.

At least he hadn't been successful. She was still the head salesgirl, and she was still likely to become the manager someday, hopefully soon. Liam Darcy was nothing but an underling, for all of his former status and wealth. Elizabeth turned to the window, smiling. She tried her best to rearrange her hair, but the humidity was causing small wisps to spring free and curl damply around the crown of her head and the nape of her neck.

"Say, Betsy, I've got tickets to this great little show--"

"Gee, Billy, but I make it a habit not to date men who saddle me with cutesy nicknames." Elizabeth gave up on her stubborn hair.

"You know, you should be a little more responsive to me. You're not in much of a position to be so proud and choosy."

Elizabeth turned away from the window to frown at him. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Billy floundered a moment before replying. "I just mean that...that you're hardly the prettiest girl. In town, not to mention your liking to work and living on your own, and...well, your height. Many men wouldn't give you a second glance, much less take an interest in you as I have. Even I was hesitant, because you're so darned tall, you stand out sort of like a--"

"Excuse me," Liam Darcy said, straightening to his full height of six-feet-five from the slouch he'd had moments earlier. He stood nearly a foot taller than Billy and was nearly a head taller than Elizabeth. His point had been made, though--Elizabeth wasn't a freak, as Billy was suggesting.

Why did he bother to do it? Elizabeth wondered.

Billy turned red, but continued. "You aren't likely to ever catch a husband--"

"What gave you the idea I want to get married? Have you been reading those dreadful dime novels again?" Elizabeth had never read those, considering them to be nothing more than romantic drivel.

"All women want to get married," Billy stated. "How else can they give their lives meaning, except to have a husband and children in them?"

"I stand corrected. You've been reading Jane Austen," Elizabeth said. "Your viewpoint is archaic."

"It's what?"

"You heard me."

"What is 'arch'--what you said?"

Elizabeth sighed. "It means old-fashioned. It's old. Women can be anything they want. This is the 1930's!"

"Women should--"

"Did you ever stop to consider that if all women did what men think they should, you wouldn't have a job?"

Billy was stymied by Elizabeth's remark. Liam, however, had something to say.

"I'm sure Alfred could've done just as well as Catherine."

Elizabeth turned to him, her dark eyes gleaming. "Please. You saw him at dinner the other night. He's useless. He never learned how to do anything but drink, gamble, and--" Elizabeth almost said flirt, but managed to stop herself. "--have fun."

"Perhaps he could've learned if Catherine hadn't taken over," Billy said, loyal to his sex and relieved that the new employee was siding with him.

"His suggestion was to sell the place, or better yet, close it down. He never thought that once that money was gone, he'd be in the same situation most of the rest of the world was in. He just wanted the money right then. It was Catherine's determination that kept this place going. You should be grateful to her, Billy, instead of impugning her behind her back." She turned to Liam. "And as for you, don't think I'm not aware of what you told Mrs. De Bourgh the other night. I'll have you know that I'd rather be shot than steal anything, and we were able to prove that the other men did it. They wound up confessing in order to spend less time in prison."

Liam was a bit shocked. "You shouldn't have been listening."

"Why? Can you only accuse me of embezzlement behind my back? In the future, don't be such a coward. Tell me to my face. And don't suggest that you can do my job better than me, because you can't. Like I told you Friday night, no man can, and certainly not some former society boy who needs to learn a little humility."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Charlie walking up the street. Without excusing herself, she walked over to meet him halfway, leaving to shell-shocked men in her wake.

She was insufferable. Absolutely, positively insufferable.

Liam Darcy surreptitiously looked at the young woman talking animatedly with Charles Bingley. They were speaking of someone named Jane--Bingley's wife, he presumed.

For the thousandth time since Friday night, Liam tried to convince himself that working for his cousin was what he wanted. When he'd heard that the New York De Bourghs' was still in operation, it had seemed like the perfect solution after losing his job at Hirsch and Company. He hadn't been able to keep any other job, and the reasons for his dismissals rang in his ears.

The Laszlo Company said he was too inexperienced. Winston's said he was too slow. Masters and Associates had said he was too tall. That had been from a short, obnoxious store owner whose employees, male and female, were all shorter than his own five-six. He'd left Fisher and Sons on his own, because he'd realized there was no potential for advancement. Finally, there was Hirsch and Company, where New York's finest shopped, where he'd been too arrogant and proud to the customers, several of whom recognized him and belittled him.

Elizabeth Bennet was wrong. He'd learned humility six years ago, when his father had disowned him for something that wasn't his fault. And he'd learned even more right after the Depression, when he'd discovered that all his money was gone.

Impossible, maddening woman.

He'd thought that working at De Bourghs' would be easy. Surely he'd learned enough in the four years he'd been working that Mrs. De Bourgh would instantly see his good qualities, make him the manager, and retire to enjoy success with her husband. He could--almost--see why it had been necessary for Catherine to take over management of the store. But like Billy, he felt that Alfred should've learned so that he could take over, and Catherine could return home and raise their daughter. Call him archaic, but that was his opinion.

Elizabeth Bennet was the sort of woman he'd always despised, right after those who were trying to trap him into marriage. Twenty years ago, she would've been out marching, demanding the vote for women and acting even more unladylike than she was today. Now she was doing something he considered downright unnatural for women. If Billy were to be believed--and he saw no reason why he'd be lying--she actually lived on her own, unmarried with no intentions of getting that way.

Most unnatural.

So why was he thinking about her? Why was he looking her way? Why did he keep remembering how she'd looked when she'd first arrived, her face glowing from exercise, her eyes bright, her hair looking far softer than he'd ever seen it with its curly wisps everywhere? Why did he keep thinking she'd been downright pretty when she'd been standing up for herself? Why was he admiring her determination if he disliked what she stood for?

It was confusing, and Liam Darcy didn't like confusing. But he also knew that there was nowhere else for him to go, so for the moment he was staying.

Caroline Wickham noticed him standing by himself. She'd been curious about him all weekend, thinking of what he might be like. Oh, not as a worker--she could care less about that. And normally, she didn't date men from work--if she wanted something with a fellow worker, she would've dated Charlie or Billy's predecessor, George Knightley. Heavens, Knightley had been so handsome. He'd been ten times more efficient than Billy, and he'd made more money. And he'd been friendlier. And honest. But, she thought with a sigh, he'd also been more sensible. He hadn't wanted someone from the store. He'd gone for a young woman with money, which had disappointed Caroline but had made far more sense to her. In these days, money was the most important thing. Still, she was certain that money was the only thing that had attracted Knightley to that girl. Caroline didn't think it was fair. She was ten times more interesting and tempting than that girl, and she had to slave away while Emma Woodhouse Knightley sat on her pampered behind and did nothing and won the heart of a wonderful errand boy.

Caroline looked at Liam Darcy again. Liam wasn't all that attractive, she thought with a frown. His hair was almost red, and Caroline hated redheads. But if her hunch was correct, she'd make an exception.

She got the feeling that he was hiding something. She'd read stories about men like him. They were actually disgustingly wealthy, but they pretended to be poor and have to work like everyone else so they could find True Love. True Love was someone who loved him not for his money, but for himself.

Caroline didn't really care about the True Love nonsense. She just wanted a wealthy husband so she didn't ever have to work again. Within mere hours of his being hired at De Bourghs', Caroline had decided that Liam Darcy was just like one of those men in her favorite stories, and thus extremely worthy of her attention.

By Sunday, Caroline was dreaming of the day when she'd walk into De Bourghs' as Mrs. Caroline Darcy. Elizabeth Bennet would wait on her. Caroline would make her dance to her tune for hours, then she'd leave without buying a thing.

Perhaps she'd be kind and limit this to once a week--but only perhaps.

"Good morning," Caroline said politely.

Liam didn't respond, almost as though he were in a fog.

Caroline cleared her throat and repeated the greeting. Liam was a bit startled, but regained his composure before saying, "Good morning."

"We didn't get a chance to become acquainted on Friday. I'm Caroline Wickham."

At the mention of her name, Liam's face went pale. "W-who did you say you were?"

"Caroline Wickham." Caroline frowned. Why was he acting this way?

"Do you have a relative named George?"

Caroline's brow furrowed. "Yes. My uncle. He's sixty-two and...well, a little you know." She twirled her finger around her head.

Liam visibly relaxed, and Caroline breathed a sigh of relief that her lie seemed to ease the tension. She wondered what her brother had done this time. She swore that if it wrecked her chances with Liam Darcy, she'd kill him.

Liar, Liar

Posted on Friday, 11 December 1998

It took Caroline about two weeks to plan her strategy. Actually, it took her that long to find her wastrel of a brother and piece together his history with Liam Darcy. She had been disheartened for a few hours when George had told her that Liam had been disinherited by his family because of the incident, and then had lost all his money in the market crash. But the Darcy family still had a good deal of money, and if she were to marry Liam she would do her damnedest to reunite him with his family. Her strategy took less than two hours to figure out.

And not a moment soon enough, she felt, because she had seen the looks that Liam was giving to Elizabeth. If Caroline wasn't careful, it would be Elizabeth marrying Liam and all his money, Elizabeth coming to the shop and being nasty to her, Caroline.

And Caroline could not let that happen. Elizabeth didn't deserve it. Elizabeth came from ordinary stock, whereas Caroline could trace her ancestors back many generations to a fine old family in England.

Caroline did notice one thing in her favor, and that was that Elizabeth didn't seem to return Liam's interest. In fact, she went out of her way to ignore their newest employee, finding fault with just about everything he did. Come to think of it, Elizabeth seemed to find fault with everyone these days, even Charlie, and he her brother-in-law. Caroline knew that Elizabeth was disappointed that Mrs. de Bourgh had not appointed her manager yet, but she saw that as no reason to take it out on the rest of them.

Mrs. de Bourgh was looking over the shop when the telephone rang. "Good morning, De Bourghs'," Charlotte said cheerfully. "Yes, Mr. de Bourgh, she's close. Mrs. de Bourgh, it's your husband on the telephone."

Mrs. de Bourgh rushed to the phone and said, "Hello, darling...yes, things are going just fine. What? Oh, I forgot? Oh, sweetheart, I'm sorry. I'll have someone send that over on their lunch break...no, I won't send Billy, not if you insist...well, he's probably busy anyway. Okay. I love you. Bye."

Mrs. de Bourgh looked over her staff. Normally she would've asked Billy to take some money over to Mr. de Bourgh, but she didn't really trust him. She would ask Miss Bennet, but poor Elizabeth worked so hard that she deserved to relax during her lunch break. She wouldn't ask Miss Bennet.

Mrs. de Bourgh's gaze fell on Caroline Wickham, and she smiled. "Miss Wickham, could you come here please?"

Caroline, always eager to please her boss, stepped forward. "Yes, Mrs. de Bourgh?"

"Would you mind if I intruded on your lunch break today? Mr. de Bourgh needs something I forgot to leave with him this morning, and Billy's going to be rather busy through his lunch break."

Caroline bit her lip. She had planned to invite Elizabeth to dine with her, so that she could start her plan, but pleasing the boss was more important. Or perhaps she could do both.

"I would understand if you didn't want to--"

"Oh, it isn't that, Mrs. de Bourgh."

"And I would be willing to give you money for a taxi and extra time for your lunch break so you wouldn't be inconvenienced."

"Well, in that case, I would be honored to take something to Mr. de Bourgh. Thank you for thinking of me."

Elizabeth looked up, having heard just the end of the conversation. She frowned. Why hadn't Mrs. de Bourgh asked her to take something to her husband? Not that she would've been thrilled to do it, since Mr. de Bourgh was primeval slime. But as the oldest employee, and certainly the most trusted, it should've been her.

Caroline looked at her rival, knew exactly what she was thinking, and almost smirked. Then she remembered that any such antics were out of the question for today, since she was going to take her to lunch.

Mrs. de Bourgh retreated to her office, and Elizabeth's frustration grew. She was about to find someone to snap at (since there were no customers in the building) when Caroline approached her.

"Miss Bennet?" Caroline smiled.

Elizabeth smiled as well, but her smile was not nearly as pleasant. She had a quarry in her sight.

"I was wondering if you would like to come to lunch with me today?"

That disarmed the other woman, who hadn't been expecting those words to come out of her mouth. "Lunch?" she repeated blankly.

"Yeah. I hate having lunch alone, and I was planning on asking you to join me. Of course, I have to cut out early so I don't miss much work delivering whatever Mr. de Bourgh wants to him, but..."

"Why the sudden offer? You don't like me at all." Elizabeth knew Caroline well enough to know that she had some sort of motive.

"Now that isn't true, Elizabeth. You don't let people get close enough to you to become friends, or even to know you at all. I've been here two years, and I know more about the clientele than I know about you."

Elizabeth knew something was fishy about all this, but she had nothing better to do with her lunch hour. If Caroline was willing to be agreeable for once, it could only benefit the shop. She sighed.

"All right," she said. "I guess that would be okay."

"Great!" Caroline beamed.

Elizabeth wondered what she'd gotten herself into, but her thoughts on there were quickly buried when three customers came into the shop.

Elizabeth nearly fell asleep in her sandwich. Caroline had been boring her for the past twenty-five minutes, talking about dance halls and handsome young men and money and days gone by. Elizabeth, who had not had much in the way of these things even in "days gone by," cared little for them now. Clearly they fascinated Caroline, so she tried paying attention.

Caroline was now blathering on about her brother, George. "Poor boy," she murmured softly, her eyes downcast.

Elizabeth noted the change in Caroline's demeanor and mood, and perked up a bit. To this point she'd been rather cheerful, but now she seemed upset.

"Who's a poor boy?" Elizabeth asked.

"My brother, George. He's literally a poor boy, since the money he had is gone." Caroline sighed. "And when I think that the man who is to blame for it all is working in our shop, it makes me mad enough to spit!"

She now had Elizabeth's full attention. "I don't want to pry," Elizabeth said, realizing why Caroline had asked her to have lunch with her. She was having a problem with someone at work and was too afraid of upsetting Mrs. de Bourgh to tell her.

And Elizabeth had a feeling she knew who it was.

"It's okay. I don't know if you're aware of this, but my parents separated soon after I was born. George and I were brought up apart, and...and only recently found each other. We're still not close, but he is my only brother. I didn't know how he lived, or anything, but apparently he used to be friends with Liam Darcy."

"He was?"

"Yes. The two of them were close, but George told me that Liam's father favored him over his own son. Liam was jealous at their closeness, and did things to get back at George. But...but I'm sure this wouldn't interest you at all."

"If you feel the need to talk about something, Caroline, I'm willing to listen."

Of course you are, Miss Bennet. Hope you're listening closely so that you stay as far away from Liam Darcy as possible!

"I...I do need to tell someone. I have friends, but they aren't like you. They don't listen to anyone...and if I did tell them, they would spread it all around, and then people would...well, George told me I shouldn't tell the story, since he has so much respect for Liam's father and this would shame the Darcy family if it got out."

"You can trust me. I won't tell anyone."

Caroline sighed, as though reluctant to even tell her superior. "Liam would do some nasty things. He would tell George's girlfriends that he was cheating on them. He would steal George's homework to copy it and then throw it away, so George seemed to be behind in his schoolwork. Liam...Liam would accuse George of terrible things behind his back."

Elizabeth reddened, remembering when Liam had done the same to her.

"The two went to a private school, then to college at Harvard. Apparently, George had little trouble getting in while Liam's father had to practically bribe Harvard to accept him. Of course they did. In college, away from his father, Liam was better to George. George honestly thought they became good friends. He was willing to let the past stay in the past, until..."

Caroline broke off, trying her best to sound choked. Elizabeth felt sorry for the young woman.

"Elizabeth, you must swear to me that you will never repeat this part of the story. You see, it affects not only George but a young lady who...who is related to me."

"I promise," Elizabeth said.

"You see, my father never remarried, but he did have a daughter, with another woman. She was a few years younger than George and myself, and according to George, she was so beautiful that she put me to shame." Caroline almost said "your sister" but managed to catch herself before she did it. "Her name was Christie, Christie Carrington. Six years ago, our father died and Christie's mother thrust the girl onto my brother. There was no doubt that she was our sister, because she looked like me. I have pictures..." Caroline teared up.

"What happened?"

"Christie's mother disappeared. The girl was fifteen, young, innocent. The sweetest girl you'd ever meet. George felt he couldn't leave her alone, so he took her in. Liam...Liam took an interest in her."

"Dear God!"

"Christie was so naive, she thought he was in love with her. She was infatuated with him, and was willing to believe anything he said. She allowed him to...to...."

Elizabeth's mouth gaped. How could he have done such a thing?

"Christie found herself in a delicate condition the day after her sixteenth birthday. She told Liam, who rejected her. She was crushed. She finally told George the truth about their relationship, and George did his best to convince Liam to marry her. Liam refused, calling Christie all sorts of names and denying that he was the father of her child.

"The next morning, Christie was gone. She had taken nothing. No clothes, no money...nothing. We called the police, started a search on our own, did everything. They found her three days later, in the river. Two witnesses came forward to say that they'd seen her jump from a bridge." Caroline pulled a handkerchief from her purse and dabbed at her eyes. "George was so enraged that he told Liam's father, who disowned him. If I'd had my way, I'd have had him arrested for murder."

"Didn't you try to do something?" Elizabeth asked.

"What could we do? We had no proof other than Christie's word that Liam was her baby's father. Liam losing his fortune was the only measure taken against him."

Elizabeth sat back in her chair, stunned. Liam Darcy was a horrible man! If Mrs. de Bourgh knew the truth, she wouldn't have hired him. And now she had to go back and see him every day, deal with him and not scream at him for what he'd done. And children occasionally came into their shop! Young teenagers! She'd seen him with a pretty sixteen-year-old just the other day. He'd been overly attentive...

He's a monster.

"Elizabeth, please. You can't say anything to anyone. We'd only look like we were...you just can't. The Darcy family has enough of a burden knowing their son is like this. Don't compound it by making this public. And think of De Bourghs'. Think of Mrs. de Bourgh. She would feel like such a fool for hiring him."

Elizabeth sighed. She hadn't thought Caroline capable of much emotion that wasn't directed at her pleasure or self-interest, but her pain and concern for her late sister, brother, and the Darcy family which had cared for her brother impressed her. And she believed everything Caroline said, because she believed she knew Liam Darcy.

"I promised you that I wouldn't tell and I won't."

"I just thought I should warn you that I...I intend to get my revenge on him. I may act friendly to him in the shop. I may do things that might confuse you, but I intend to get my revenge one way or another." Caroline looked right into Elizabeth's dark eyes. "Tell me that if it were your sister you wouldn't do the same thing."

Elizabeth thought of her sisters. Sensible Mary would never have fallen in love with someone like Liam Darcy. Kitty was a bit shy outside of Lydia's shadow, and she probably never would've been brave enough. Lydia...well, Lydia was foolish enough, but Elizabeth had resigned herself long ago to the fact that Lydia was at least bright enough to prevent such an event from happening.

But Jane...who was so beautiful and innocent. Jane was older than Elizabeth, but Elizabeth had always been the more sensible of the two. It could've been Jane.

"I would want the same thing," she admitted. "I understand."

Caroline sighed. "Thank you, Miss Bennet." She glanced at her watch. "I have to be going if I'm to take that package to Mr. de Bourgh and get back to work on time."

"Mrs. de Bourgh gave you extra time," Elizabeth said.

"I know, but I still want to try to get back early. There's nothing like punctuality, you know."

Elizabeth nodded bleakly, wondering how she was ever going to be able to treat Liam the same now that she knew the truth.

Caroline smiled to herself as the taxi sped to Mrs. de Bourgh's house. Elizabeth had believed the whole thing. And if most of it wasn't true, well, Elizabeth would never be able to find out the truth.

As the taxi pulled into a long driveway, Caroline's eyes widened in shock. She knew her employer had money, but this! It was amazing!

Caroline hurried up the steps to the house and knocked on the door. A man opened the door. He didn't look like the butler, because Caroline had seen a butler once and he hadn't dressed this casually.

The man smiled. "Hello. I was expecting Miss Bennet to be bringing this package, but you're a much more pleasant surprise. Your name is...?"

"Caroline Wickham."

Alfred de Bourgh smiled. "Won't you come inside for a minute?"

Caroline recognized his smile. Lord knew, she'd seen it often enough on the faces of other men. But this was the richest man who had ever given her such a smile. Caroline smiled seductively, thinking that if she played her cards right, this might just turn out to her advantage.

Dear Friend,

Today I heard a story of such shocking depravity that decency--and a promise I made to the person who told me it--prevent me from telling you. There are truly monsters in this world, terrible monsters, and I have the bad fortune of having to work with one of them. There are times when I wonder why God has put such people on earth, but then I realize that I have not the right to question Him...

Dear Friend,

My father once told me to beware of certain people in this world, for though they are disguised as friends they are almost certainly enemies. I always figured he was talking of business competitors, and he undoubtedly was. But his advice has far-reaching boundaries.

You may wonder why I begin my letter this way. You spoke of monsters in your last letter, and that you were forced to work with one of them. Monsters rarely show their true faces to most people, and I know this for a fact. I wish that could be of comfort to you, but I somehow doubt that it will be. This person you speak of likely appears to most to be a nice person, and discovering the truth can come at a terrible price.

Someday I may tell you the tale of the monster that I knew, the one I considered a friend and who deceived and betrayed me in the worst way imaginable. Right now, even though this event happened six years ago, the memories are still too raw and painful for me to wish to recall...

After Hours

Posted on Friday, 11 December 1998

Elizabeth poured over the letter her friend had sent her. She wondered what sort of demons he had faced, and how he'd managed to conquer them. She had done her best to treat Liam Darcy as she had before, but it had been difficult not to shout an accusation. The only time she had gotten a little overanxious was when two teenagers entered the shop to look over gifts for a friend's birthday. Liam had headed their way, but Elizabeth had effectively cut him off, telling him to go to the backroom and bring out the new shipment of traveling bags.

Liam had been confused and furious, but he had not contradicted her order. Elizabeth waited on the girls with one eye on them and one on Liam, to make sure he didn't come within ten feet of them. She breathed much easier when they purchased their items and left.

Caroline Wickham stood in the background, smiling. She had been smiling for the better part of the week, ever since she'd told Elizabeth her story. Elizabeth figured it was because she had finally found a confidante. She did, however, have a question for her. She waited until everyone else was busy to corner Caroline.

"Miss Wickham, you told me...the other day...that your brother was a poor man, and you blamed...but you never told me why."

Caroline had to think back to what she had told Elizabeth during lunch. It was so hard to remember. Elizabeth might think she was smiling because she had someone to talk to, but the time she'd spent with Alfred de Bourgh had been far more exciting. The man had no finesse at all, but a lot of potential. Plus, he was awfully generous. Caroline had the proof tucked neatly away in her purse.

"Oh...George went into such a grief after Christie...that he neglected his finances. He lost everything he had in the crash because he was talked into making some bad deals."

Elizabeth nodded, satisfied. There were so many people who had lost everything that a tale such as that had to be believed. She returned to her duties.

Mrs. de Bourgh was looking critically at one of the windows throughout the afternoon. The first time she had noticed it, she decided that she didn't mind it so much. As the day wore on, she decided that she hated the entire concept.

Part of her frustration was the fact that those lovely music boxes she'd ordered weren't selling at all. She'd even had her employees try Liam's trick, but none of the customers seemed to be impressed. Soon she would have to be selling them at a loss, and Catherine de Bourgh hated losses.

"Miss Bennet!" Mrs. de Bourgh called out.

Elizabeth heard that tone in her voice and knew that something was wrong. "Yes, Mrs. de Bourgh?"

"Who was in charge of dressing that window?"

It had been Susan Price and Charlie, but Elizabeth wasn't about to let Mrs. de Bourgh loosen her tongue at Charlie. The poor man had enough to worry about, with Jane ordered to bed rest until the baby was born.

"I was," Elizabeth said quietly.

Every eye in the store turned to her. They too had heard something more in Mrs. de Bourgh's voice. Susan and Charlie had expected to have her wrath directed at them, but here was Elizabeth, taking the blame herself.

"You don't dress windows. You have too many responsibilities," Mrs. de Bourgh said.

"Perhaps, but it was my idea to dress the window that way. You can't blame the person who carried out my suggestion."

Mrs. de Bourgh. "Then I suppose you won't mind staying tonight to do it over after close, would you?"

Elizabeth sighed. There wasn't much she had in the way of a social life, except to visit her father and hear another lecture from her mother. And hear about Kitty and Mary's dull lives and Lydia's wild nights. She might as well stay behind, even if she wouldn't get paid. At least Charlie would get to go home and be with Jane, which is what she needed.

"I suppose it would be all right."

Mrs. de Bourgh looked over her other employees. Two people would have to stay to redo the window. She had overheard Elizabeth talking to Charlie about her sister's condition, so obviously he couldn't stay. Miss Lucas was a possibility, but she had stayed behind the last time. Miss Price was needed at home for her Aunt's sake. Miss Wickham had already done her a favor today, since once again Alfred had insisted that he needed some money. She had again sent Caroline, who had come back within the allotted time. Billy was too dull to come up with anything sensible, which left...

Well, why hadn't she thought of it before? She could just ask Liam.

"Liam, I know that it's probably asking a bit much, but would you be willing to stay over tonight? I'm sure that with your help, the two of you should have little trouble coming up with something appealing to customers. Plus, you liked my little music boxes so much."

Elizabeth's eyes widened in shock. It was bad enough that she would have to be staying late, but...to have to work with him? It was insufferable!

Liam was looking at her, wondering what she had against him that would make her look so horrified. Frustrated, yes. Perhaps even angry. But horrified?

He was saddened by the look, because until that point he had been rather pleased and impressed with the way she had protected the other staff members. Anyone could have told you that Elizabeth Bennet hadn't set up that window display because it was too amateurish.

"I suppose that would be all right."

"Mrs. de Bourgh!" Caroline rushed forward. "I think perhaps Miss Bennet looks a little tired. Maybe I should stay behind tonight so she can get some rest."

More than anything, Elizabeth wanted to agree to Caroline's solution. But she couldn't leave the woman alone with Liam. He may be a monster, and a seducer of teenaged girls, but as enraged as Caroline got when speaking of her half-sister Elizabeth didn't trust her not to kill the man and make it look accidental.

Fortunately for her, Mrs. de Bourgh was having none of it. "She seems quite healthy to me. Indeed, if anyone looks a little tired, it's you, Miss Wickham. Besides, you already had to do something extra today."

"But I assure you, it wasn't a bother at all. Indeed, where I have lunch is close to your residence so it was merely a short distance to go."

"Still, since it was Miss Bennet who came up with the idea, she should be the one to stay behind and fix things. Thank you for volunteering, Miss Wickham. Such a show of enthusiasm for your work isn't seen often."

The other employees glared at Caroline, even Elizabeth. As usual, she had made the best of a bad situation. She, Elizabeth, looked bad and Caroline swooped in to seem like the good little worker.

Elizabeth wanted to groan. Bad enough that she had everything else to contend with, now came the unpleasant prospect of spending time after hours...alone...with Liam Darcy. Oh, sure, Mrs. de Bourgh would be staying behind until they left so she could close the shop, but she would probably spend most of that time in her office, going over the books.

Me and my mouth, she thought crabbily, glaring again at Liam, who was still utterly confused by the emotions he read in her lovely eyes.

The shop was so quiet that Elizabeth's thoughts flooded through her mind. She was five years removed from being in any danger from Liam Darcy, if indeed teenagers were what appealed to him.

Liam had attempted to give her his opinions three times, and each time, she had picked holes in his ideas, saying either that she'd seen that idea in a shop down the block or that they'd done that already. Liam had finally gotten the hint--his ideas weren't welcome.

"Miss Bennet..." he was almost afraid to tell her this, since she seemed to be in a worse mood than Mrs. de Bourgh. "I wanted to tell you something."

"What?"

Liam almost lost her nerve. Finally, he said, "I think what you did today was wonderful."

"What?" Elizabeth's voice changed to startlement.

"Today. Telling Mrs. de Bourgh that this was all your fault."

"It was. I did give Charlie a few suggestions. He is under my supervision. I didn't see anything wrong with the window, but when Mrs. de Bourgh is in one of her moods, then it's best just to go with the prevailing wind."

"So I've discovered in my short time here. Still, you did not have to do it. In several shops, the head salesman...I mean, salesperson would have allowed an underling to take the blame."

"Normally I would have. But Susan's aunt is in poor health at the moment and so is my sister. Susan and Charlie were needed at home. I have nothing..." Elizabeth bit her tongue. She wasn't about to tell this man that she had nothing better to do.

"Me either," he admitted. "All I have awaiting me at home are letters to write. Letters to wait for. And, if I remember correctly, a copy of Henry James' The Portrait of a Lady."

Elizabeth was caught off-guard by his honesty. It was strange. One moment, she could easily picture him as the man who could use and then discard a fifteen-year-old girl. But at moments like this, few and far between though they were...she couldn't see it at all. A man who went home to do nothing more than write letters and read books?

Of course, he could be lying to her.

"It's not that I have nothing at home," Elizabeth said. "I usually go visit my parents before returning home. It's just that there are times when my parents and my sisters become so frustrating...I have to get away with it."

"How many sisters do you have?"

Elizabeth didn't want to see the interest dawning in his emerald eyes. She didn't want to answer his questions, and make small talk with him as though the truth about his past was completely unknown to her.

"Four," she said curtly. "That setting needs to be a bit higher, Mr. Darcy."

Liam sighed. He had thought that he was making some progress with her.

Three weeks. Three weeks in a row he'd gone home and thought about nothing but her every night. The way her dark hair curled in the humidity. The way her eyes lit up when she spotted a customer. The way she smiled at small children whose mothers brought them in. She had small treats hidden in the pockets of her outfits just for them. Most of all, he thought about her staunch opinion on being liberated, and how he was beginning to admire it much more than he used to.

All the women he'd ever known were content to sit at home and do nothing. At first, he'd thought that home was the best place for them. Seeing Elizabeth at the shop changed everything. She was more than efficient, she was an excellent salesperson. She was open and sincere. She genuinely liked people.

Liam envied her her ease with people, as he tended to be too shy at times. Liam had seen her cut Billy Collins down to size and then turn around to ask Susan Price how her aunt was feeling. He'd seen her great concern for her sister and the obvious love she had for her family, in spite of her saying that they frustrated her. He envied her that family.

It made him think of his own family. His steel-backed father, who had coldly believed what he'd heard and not bothered to listen to his own son. His fragile mother, who could not go against him. And his sister.

A cold hand clutched his fist as he thought of Gina.

Liam thought sometimes that he was better off on his own. He would be, too, if...

But there wasn't time to think on that now, for Elizabeth was looking at him strangely and he realized that he'd been daydreaming...and hadn't listened to her.

"Sorry," he said. "I was thinking of my family."

Elizabeth almost felt sorry for him, but remembering Caroline's words killed the feeling. He had no one to blame for the loss of his family but himself.

Liam was waiting for her to ask about his family, but she didn't and he returned to arranging the window.

"Do you have any sisters?" Elizabeth asked suddenly.

Liam stared at her. "One," he said softly. "Georgiana. We called her Gina."

"How old is she?"

Tears formed in his eyes. "Gina's dead," he said as they spilled over.

Elizabeth had been setting boxes on a shelf, but she stopped and looked at him. "I'm sorry," she said quietly as tears fell down his face. It was the first time she'd ever seen a man cry. "If it's not prying much, how did it happen?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Bennet, but I don't like talking about my sister's death. I've had six years to get over it, but...it's still so painful."

Six years?

Elizabeth frowned, and wondered for the first time if she hadn't been taken for a fool. She wouldn't put it past Caroline to do such a thing, to make her look stupid. But why? There had to be a deeper motive than that. Caroline wasn't one to do things for simple reasons.

"It's okay," Elizabeth said. "If you'd rather not finish the window, I can--"

"No. We're almost finished. I want to get this over with."

Liam turned away from her, and Elizabeth sighed. Great. Now I feel like complete dirt. The end to a perfect day.

Elizabeth waited behind to talk to Mrs. de Bourgh for a few minutes, then headed home. Mrs. de Bourgh didn't keep up much with the Darcy family, although she had heard of Gina's death.

"Mrs. Darcy still hopes that the girl will come home someday, but it isn't likely that she survived the fall," she said. It was all she knew. "Elizabeth?"

"Yes?"

"In a few months...perhaps by Christmas...the shop will be doing well enough that it won't need me anymore. When that happens, I'm going to turn things over to you and spend more time with Alfred and Hannah. I know, I've said something to this effect before, but this time I'm serious. Today...today merely confirmed what I've known for a long time."

"What is that?"

"That you care about the people you work with. Even Caroline Wickham."

"Perhaps. Just don't make me extend that to Billy."

Mrs. de Bourgh smiled. "Yes, I keep hoping he'll find some other girl to honor with his attention and leave you alone. You're a gem, Elizabeth, far too precious to be wasted on him. No one in that shop except you would have taken the blame for someone else's mistake."

"There really wasn't anything wrong with the window, you know," Elizabeth said. "I hate to say that I told you so, but--"

"I know. The boxes were a mistake. But they were so lovely, and I could never resist 'Voi che sapete.' I just hope they'll sell better now that they're admirably displayed. I think you'll have everyone in town talking about that window in the morning."

Elizabeth somehow doubted that, but she kept that comment to herself. The truce was in place, but it could snap at any moment.

"Still, I was looking for someone to blame. Who actually created that window?"

"I did." Elizabeth raised her eyebrows and dared her to disagree.

Of course, she did. "Charlie and who else?"

Elizabeth sighed. "Am I that transparent when it comes to protecting my brother-in-law?"

"At times you are. I admit, I am a bit too harsh with him, but he is something of a nuisance. Lately, however, the troubles with his wife...I can see why he's having difficulty concentrating on his job. If I thought he could afford it, I would give him time off."

"Don't do that. He'll go nuts in a week."

Mrs. de Bourgh laughed. "So, how is Liam working out?"

Elizabeth thought for a minute. "I suppose he's okay." She still wasn't certain if he was a monster, as Caroline had described him, or if Liam...

Well, what had he said? She hadn't asked him about whatever had caused being disowned by his family six years ago. Caroline said that her sister had died six years ago; Liam said his sister was dead that amount of time as well.

Had they died together? That was a thought.

"I shouldn't keep you," Mrs. de Bourgh said. "You'll probably be wanting to go home to your family, and I know that I need to get home to mine. But sometime soon, Miss Bennet, this shop will be yours to run."

Elizabeth was still floating on air as she headed up the stairs to her parents' apartment. Soon, Miss Bennet, this shop will be yours to run. The magical words. Soon, she would be making more money than anyone else in her family. Soon, she would be in charge and if she wanted to, she could fire Billy Collins. (Come to think of it, that was the first thing she'd do.)

She heard voices talking before she entered. Her mother's was high and excited. Her father's could barely be heard over her mother and sisters'. There was another male voice...one she couldn't place.

Elizabeth opened the door. "Sorry I'm late, but I had to--"

"It's quite all right, Elizabeth. Your friend explained that you were detained, and why." Her mother was so pleased to see her--when was the last time that had happened?

And why was it happening now?

"My friend?"

"Yes. He told us everything."

"I can't believe you finally have a boyfriend, Elizabeth!" Lydia chirped.

Boyfriend?

Elizabeth then saw him. Her father was looking at him with an almost comical expression on his face. When he looked at his daughter, his face clearly told her that he knew better. Mrs. Bennet, Lydia, and Kitty were fussing over him as though he were as handsome and wonderful as their boyfriends, clearly thinking this man was the best person she could get. Mary was looking at him with a bit of interest in her eyes.

But Elizabeth was looking at him with unconcealed horror. "What the hell are you doing here, Billy?" she snapped.

A Letter

Posted on Saturday, 12 December 1998

Liam wished to God he hadn't brought up family with Elizabeth, because it brought back all the terrible memories of Gina's death. He hated thinking about it, because the whole story was something no one would believe. Elizabeth would undoubtedly laugh if he told her.

Yet he had to tell someone. He thought on it for a while and then decided that it was safe to tell this to the young woman he was writing to, even if he didn't even know her name. He wasn't about to trust the truth with Elizabeth Bennet, no matter how pretty she was. He didn't know her. He knew the woman in his letters, even if he didn't truly know her. He believed she could handle the truth.

Liam took out a pen and paper and wrote.

Dear Friend,

The letter you undoubtedly received today told you that I would someday tell you of the monster I faced. I felt guilty about not telling you the truth, since perhaps my experience would be helpful to you. We have exchanged a great deal in the past few weeks, and I feel I can trust you with the truth of what happened to me.

The story begins with two young men, myself and a friend of mine. His father worked for mine, and we became good friends as boys. Our friendship continued through high school, when it became clear to me that things were changing. He wanted more than he had. He wanted to be me, to have my money and popularity and intelligence. He could not, of course, but he desperately wanted to have them. He insinuated himself with my father, who liked him from the start and had no reason to distrust him. It was through my father that my friend was able to attend college at one of the top universities in the country.

Indeed, I had no reason to distrust him. Even in college, when I would get in trouble, I never suspected that he was behind it. He defended me, you see. I was fooled by his defense of me, saying that I could not have possibly done it. It worked much better than accusing me, for I would have known that he was no friend of mine. Instead, I went on being deceived.

Several years ago, after we had graduated from college, my friend's true colors were revealed. My friend had a girl he'd taken in as a sister, who had become friends with my younger sister. My friend's sister had quite a crush on me, almost to the point of obsession. The idea of her ever being more to me than just my sister's friend was ludicrous, of course. She was a number of years younger than I. She tried every way to induce me into a more mature relationship with her, and I resisted every one.

Furious after I informed her that I would not tolerate any more of her antics, she vowed that she would get revenge. I thought nothing more of it until my sister informed me that the girl had gotten herself pregnant and was now claiming to everyone that it was my child. Her brother, of course, believed her. He insisted that I marry her or else he would tell my parents of my "depraved lust." I told him that my parents would believe me because they knew my morals to be better. Should they need proof, they need only turn to my sister.

I admit that I became enraged with the girl when she accused me in person of being the father of her child. I said some things I regret now, because they could be construed the wrong way and indeed, they were. Again, the girl vowed revenge for what I'd said. Again, I thought nothing of it.

The next morning, the girl had disappeared--and so had my sister. My family was frantic. We had the entire city searching for them. For three days, we knew nothing. Then, at the end of the third day, a body was found floating in the river. It was my sister's friend. She was dead. There was no sign of my sister. It was determined that she hadn't survived long after impacting with the water, since the bridge was fairly high.

The morning after she was found, my father summoned me to his office. My friend was standing there, hatred in his eyes. He had accused me of impregnating his sister and thus being the cause of her death, and presumably my sister's. He brought back every ugly word I had said in that last conversation with the girl. I could not lie and deny what I had said, and though I denied having ever been with her, my father chose not to believe me. He told me that he wanted me to leave his house as soon as I had two traveling bags packed and never to return. He said that he was disowning me, excluding me from his will, and that he would do everything in his power to prevent me from gaining the inheritance I was due to receive within the year from my grandfather. He was unable to, since that was set in place well before this incident, but in the end the market crash ruined me. I paid little heed to my business transactions.

And here is the reason why. Two witnesses came forward in time. They had been afraid that my family would be furious with them for not stopping the girls at the bridge, but upon assurances that my father would not seek retribution, they confessed. They had seen one girl push the other off the bridge, then jump in herself. They were too far away to see which girl had actually been pushed and which had taken her own life, but the fact that they had seen both girls go into the water was confirmation enough that my sister was dead. No one could have survived that great a fall, or so I was told by someone sympathetic enough to tell me. They declared my sister dead.

I was so distraught over her death that I could barely function. I allowed myself to be taken advantage of. For a time, I truly felt that her death was my fault. It was the day after the crash that I awoke to reality.

I pulled my life together at last, and have since been trying to make my way in this world. It has not been easy.

One of the young women I work with said I needed a lesson in humility. Perhaps, in some ways, she is right. Old habits are hard to break, even for someone who has gone through as much as I have. Still, I like to think that I learned a great deal through my friend's duplicity.

You might wonder, then, how I knew he was a monster. As I was packing, he told me. The girl had never been any relation to him. She was merely a girl he'd taken in and convinced to help him in this scheme. She was four years older than they'd said. He was the father of her child. And although I will never be able to prove it, I think he hired the two witnesses. I think he killed that girl and my sister that day at the bridge. It was clear that the girl was not going to be successful in getting me to marry her, and my sister knew too much and would be believed when she came to my defense.

And why had he done this? Originally, his plan was for the girl to steal money from my family after she'd married into it. But after that hadn't succeeded, he came up with a new plan. He planned to take my place in my father's life.

The only good thing that happened in this time was that my former friend became too much a reminder to my father of what happened. He distanced himself from the man, and eventually fired him from his employ.

This may be wild speculation, as I have said. I still grieve for my sister, and deep in my heart, I pray that someday she walks into my apartment, looks around, and says, "What are you doing in a dump like this?" I know she would be able to vindicate me in all this. But she is dead. I know that now.

I tell you this tale because I have a feeling your monster may be as horrifying as mine, and the only advice I have to give is that eventually there is some form of escape. Your monster won't be there forever, just as mine is no longer a part of my life.

I hope this helps a little.

Liam almost signed it. It was such a personal letter that he almost did. Yet he couldn't. This was anonymous. For all he knew, the woman answering his letters might think him crazy. It would be best not to send it, but he was going to anyway. He needed to tell someone, and it might as well be the only person in this world that he trusted at the moment. Still, it was best that he remain anonymous.

He scribbled the address, put a stamp on the letter, and headed for bed. He would sleep on it, he decided. If in the morning he still felt like sending the letter, he would.

He had a feeling he would be sending it. If his gut feeling was correct, she would believe him. And he had nothing left to lose.

Unwanted Visitors

Posted on Tuesday, 19 January 1999

Billy grinned at his quarry, making his normally slimy face even more hideous. He didn't even flinch at the harsh tone Elizabeth had used in asking him what he was doing at her parents' apartment. "I believe I was waiting for you to come home, my dear sweet Libby."

"Libby?! Oh, Elizabeth, this is heavenly! You finally agreed to let a man call you by a nickname!" Mrs. Bennet was in raptures. "Billy, she has always been fastidious about her name. No nicknames at all. Even when she was a little girl, I would try to call her Lizzy and she'd say, 'Call me Elizabeth.' You sly thing, you! Everyone, Libby has made a conquest."

Elizabeth opened her mouth to say something, but Billy said, "I always thought you looked like a Libby. Anyway, your mother suggested that perhaps dinner and a movie--"

"Why haven't you brought him by before?" Mary asked.

"My dear Libby is too shy to admit to her own family that she's in the midst of a torrid affair." Billy leered at her.

"Torrid--!"

"Yes, darling, our secret is out. Libby didn't want to say anything because she knew your family had enough concerns over Mrs. Bingley's delicate condition. She didn't wish to detract from her sister's glory in being a dutiful wife, even if there are problems at the moment."

Elizabeth groaned. Mrs. Bennet still hadn't been told about Jane. They'd been planning to tell her, but they'd been dreading the fact that she would probably try to move in with them. Especially since Jane was bedridden for the remainder of the pregnancy.

Bad enough that she hadn't known and Elizabeth had...but to hear it from Billy Collins!

It took Mrs. Bennet a few moments to realize what Billy had said. "Delicate condition? You...you mean my dear darling Jane is having a baby?"

Elizabeth looked at her father. Mr. Bennet's reaction surely matched her own, if the look on his face were any indication, Elizabeth thought.

"My Jane is having a baby!" Mrs. Bennet shrieked. "Oh, my goodness! Oh, I can't believe this is happening! My dear sweet girl! Oh...I must go to her, I must call and tell her--"

"You'll do no such thing, Francine," Mr. Bennet said. "It is rather late, and poor Jane isn't well. She needs as much calm and rest as she can get. Don't go calling at this time of night. You can see her in the morning."

Mrs. Bennet stopped and looked at her husband and second child. "You two knew about this," she said. "How else would Billy know, unless you knew? Libby, why did you say nothing? Why did Jane say nothing to me, her own mother?"

Elizabeth bristled at the nickname that Billy was trying to impose on her, the one her mother was taking up with a passion. But she had to answer her mother's question in such a way that she wouldn't become furious. "Because she knew how you'd react," Elizabeth said. "She knew you'd go wild and frighten her. The other reason is that she's been ordered to bed rest until the baby comes. She doesn't need any more stress in her life. After all the fuss you made at the wedding, Jane was nervous about what you'd do. You'd only make things worse for her than they are right now."

Spots of bright red appeared in Mrs. Bennet's cheeks. "Monty! Did you hear how your daughter spoke to me?"

"Yes, I did."

The slight, however, was quickly forgotten. Mrs. Bennet's attention span wasn't noted for its length. "Oh, Monty, God has been very good to us! Jane is to have a baby, and now our Libby is going to be married!"

"Married?!" Elizabeth gasped. "Who said anything about marriage?"

Billy looked a bit sheepish but unrepentant when he said, "Well, my dear Libby, of course after all we've done we should get married."

"Yes!" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed. "Billy told us the two of you were involved in a 'torrid affair.' Libby, you must be married, for you don't, then--"

"First of all, stop calling me Libby," Elizabeth snapped, close to losing her temper.

"Why?" Mrs. Bennet blinked. "Oh, I understand. You wish for that name to be special for Billy and you."

"I never gave Billy, or anyone else, permission to call me Libby." And if a single one of her sisters mentioned that her special nickname was Lisa in Billy's presence, she was going to punch them in the jaw. "Were I to allow a man to call me anything besides Elizabeth, it certainly wouldn't be Billy Collins."

"But--" Mrs. Bennet started to say.

"I don't know what he's been telling you in my absence, but I never have and never will have anything more than a working relationship with him--and if I could avoid that, I would!"

"But--" Billy sputtered.

"How dare you come to my parents' home and attempt to force me into some sort of relationship with you! What made you think I wanted one?"

Billy's mouth opened a few times, then closed for good without saying anything.

"Get out," she said.

"But Elizabeth!" Mrs. Bennet wailed.

Billy flushed red as he headed for the door. "I--I--" he stammered.

"What?" Elizabeth asked in frustration.

"I'll...see you at work."

"Fine, but you'd better leave me alone or you might find yourself out of a job."

Billy fumbled with the doorknob.

"Monty...Monty! Stop him!" Mrs. Bennet hissed.

Billy managed to open the door and leave.

"Elizabeth Kate Bennet, I'm never going to speak to you again!" Mrs. Bennet shrieked. "A perfectly nice young man comes to call on you and you rudely turn him away! At last, you had a male caller! Someone who was willing to overlook the fact that you're so tall and you like to work at that shop. Someone who was willing to let you stay at home and be a real woman. Someone who would support you! You could've had all that, but no. You have to be the most foolish girl put on this earth, and how you could be my daughter I have no idea."

"Perhaps the nurses at the hospital switched bassinettes," Elizabeth suggested. "Picture it, Mama. Your real daughter is out there somewhere, looking for a husband when her family really wants her to be independent."

Mr. Bennet tried to hide his laughter by coughing. Mrs. Bennet wasn't fooled. She turned to glare at her husband. "You find this amusing? How amusing will it be when we're the laughingstock of the neighborhood because Elizabeth won't marry like a woman should?"

"I'd rather be an old maid for the rest of my life than marry Billy Collins," Elizabeth said quietly.

"Monty, why didn't you stop him? Why didn't you insist that Elizabeth at least go to dinner with him, as we agreed?"

"You agreed to that, my dear, not that I ever thought Lisa would." Mr. Bennet picked up the book he'd been reading before Billy's arrival and tried to ignore his wife's sputtering. When she ripped the book out of his hands, he sighed.

"You could have made her," she said.

"It seemed a hopeless business. Lisa clearly had no interest in him, and he lied to you by saying they were involved."

"But that could be overlooked! Indeed, I find it admirable that a man would dare to do such a thing because he was so in love."

"It always astounds me that you have such a tolerant attitude toward a man interested in one of your daughters."

"But this was for Elizabeth! A man was actually interested in her, even after everything she did to put him off!"

"Not much of a man," Lydia said, sending Kitty into peals of laughter.

Mr. Bennet gave his youngest two daughters a look, which stopped the giggling. "Though it galls me to realize it, I agree with Lydia."

"But--"

"Anyway, I would never let Lisa see a person such as Billy Collins, even if she had wanted to do so. I might even have disowned her if she had."

Elizabeth grinned at her father. He would've done no such thing, and they knew it.

Mrs. Bennet, of course, did not.

"Monty..." It was a low wail. If he hadn't known better, he would've felt bad. Francine was only trying to play guilt strings so he'd change his mind, and it wouldn't work. It never would anymore.

"I think I should go," Elizabeth said.

"I'll walk you home," Mr. Bennet said, rising from his chair.

"But Dad, I don't need--"

"No arguments. I'm not doing this to be overprotective. I just want to be certain that boy doesn't follow you home and try anything."

"But you're not being overprotective at all," Elizabeth said with a chuckle as he escorted her out the door. "Thank you, Dad...for everything."

Liam couldn't sleep. He'd stayed awake, thinking about the letter. So much so that he finally woke up and went back to get it. He hadn't opened it, just looked at it.

He'd changed his mind fifty times in the past hour about sending it. He wanted to send it. He trusted the woman he was writing to enough to tell her the truth. But he wasn't sure he wanted his sordid secret exposed for anyone to see. At some point, he'd realized as they'd continued corresponding, they were going to have to meet. He wanted to meet this funny, charming, sometimes frustrated woman. He had a feeling she would want to meet him as well.

Which was why he didn't know if he was going to send that letter. It was a very personal thing, and his guilt over Gina's death still affected him sometimes. For all that he knew who was behind it, the guilt was still there. Sometimes, he wished that he had accepted responsibility for Christie and her baby, even though he hadn't been the father. It would've meant that George Wickham would've won. His child would've been the next heir to the Darcy fortune.

But at least Gina would still be alive, and for that he would give anything. God didn't work that way, though.

There was a knock at his door. Liam's first thought was for the letter. He didn't want anyone seeing it before he was of firm mind whether or not to send it. He hurriedly buried it under a stack of papers and other forms, then calmed his abruptly frayed nerves and walked to the door.

He opened it.

"Hello, Mr. Darcy," Caroline Wickham said with a smile. She was holding a brown bag in her arms. "I was in the neighborhood and thought I would come by to bring you dinner."

"It's a bit late, Miss Wickham." He made no move to let her into his apartment.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, call me Caroline. We've been working together the past few weeks, and I'm sure you know by now that I'm not much for formalities." Caroline shifted the bag, which was a bit heavy. "May I come in?"

Liam didn't particularly want her coming in, but to refuse when she had brought something to eat would be rude. He stepped aside, letting her in.

Caroline looked around at his dingy apartment. She was vastly disappointed. She had been hoping that perhaps he had some sort of irrevocable trust fund which allowed him to live in some sort of style, but when she'd arrived in this section of town, she'd known it wasn't the case.

The complete reality was even more disheartening.

Still, Caroline was determined not to get depressed. Even though he was estranged from his family, she reminded herself that it would be up to his wife to mend the breach. And that would be her.

"It's a nice place you have here," Caroline said, setting her bag on the table where Liam had been writing his letter.

"You don't have to lie to me, Miss--Caroline." Liam was slightly relieved that she was allowing him to call her by her first name. Her surname brought back too many bad memories. "I know that my home is far from nice. However, it is all I can afford."

"Really? You're related to Mrs. de Bourgh, aren't you?"

"Our connection is rather slight. The original Catherine de Bourgh was the sister of the original Fitzwilliam Darcy's mother. Although Lady Catherine wanted my ancestor to marry her daughter, it never came about and thus our relation has lessened over time."

"I always thought Mrs. De Bourgh placed great importance on family. I'm surprised she allows you to live this way."

"I would not accept charity from her or anyone."

"Oh...well, of course I wasn't suggesting that you do that. I was just thinking that she should consider making you manager of the shop when she decides to retire." Caroline realized she'd made a misstep and reached out blindly to recover from it.

"We have discussed it."

Caroline's eyes widened. It had been discussed, had it? She couldn't wait to tell Miss Elizabeth Bennet. That woman considered herself so far above the rest of them, and believed she was going to be made manager...and now she was losing out. "That's wonderful! And it's a relief. You know that Elizabeth Bennet thinks she's going to be getting control of the shop when Mrs. De Bourgh retires, and I always feared she would. I would've left it that happened."

"Why?"

"Because...well, you've seen her. She's a terrible leader. There are some women, like Mrs. De Bourgh, who are well suited to running things. And there are others who think they are but aren't. Miss Bennet is one of the latter, I fear. It's good that you'll be the one--"

"I'm afraid you've misunderstood me, Caroline. I'm not likely to be made manager if Mrs. De Bourgh decides to retire."

"But...but you said--"

"I said that we discussed it, nothing more. Indeed, I rather arrogantly assumed that it would happen, but Mrs. De Bourgh stands firm behind her choice. And it's been made abundantly clear to me that Elizabeth Bennet is that choice. I may not agree with it, but I must abide by it. I also think it reflects well on Mrs. De Bourgh's character to reward Miss Bennet's loyalty by giving her what she deserves."

Where on earth did that come from? Liam wondered. He hadn't thought that before tonight, but he realized that he meant every word of it.

"Well..." Caroline was speechless. She didn't know what to say to it, but once she regained her footing, she decided to change the subject. "I hope you like what I brought you. It's my specialty--Beef Wellington."

A lie. She'd had Maria Rushworth, who lived down the hall from her and worked as a cook in one of New York's finest restaurants, cook the dinner. Caroline had threatened to tell Mr. Rushworth that she'd seen Maria kissing Henry Crawford as he was leaving their apartment if she didn't.

"Thank you," Liam said. "I'm not hungry at the moment, having stopped at the deli at the corner when I was coming home, but it should do my quite well for lunch tomorrow."

"Oh." Caroline had had enough made for two so she could join him for dinner. Her stomach growled suddenly, because she hadn't eaten in anticipation of sharing dinner with Liam after he came home from work.

Liam almost groaned. She was hungry and clearly had expected to have dinner with him. He knew she was interested in him. He'd seen the looks she'd given him when she thought he was noticing. Liam was puzzled, because he sensed that Caroline wasn't the type to chase after a penniless clerk.

It made him think that she knew about his family's wealth, and thought he was only pretending to be poor.

"Caroline, I think you should eat that instead of leaving it for me," Liam said. "You can take it home. I...I don't really like Beef Wellington anyway."

"But I thought you said you liked it."

"I didn't but that's not the point. I think there's something else you should know. Don't think I'm telling you this because I want to hurt or embarrass you, but...I don't think I'm the sort of man you'd want to spend your life with."

Caroline turned bright red. He knew! "I didn't say I was interested in you."

"Caroline, no lady brings a man dinner at this time of night unless she's got an interest in him." Liam looked at her. "You're...a nice young woman," he said, only stretching the truth a bit, "but I'm not the man for you. We're too different. You want so much more than I'd be able to give you."

"You've got so much that I want."

"No, I don't. I'm fairly certain you've heard somewhere that my family has a good deal of money. Don't insult me by saying you haven't."

Caroline had been about to. Instead, she said nothing.

"My father was very sensible and made sure his money wasn't in the stock market when it bottomed out. He has money as a result. I...I wasn't as sensible as he was. My money is gone for good. If it weren't, do you think I would have ever considered working in a shop, even one such as De Bourghs'?"

Caroline looked at the worn-out rug on the floor.

"I don't know if you know this, but my family and I have nothing to do with each other. We never will, and therefore I will never have that money my father has been earning. I'll always be what I am now. An ordinary citizen, working for a living. I think you want more than that, and I hope you get it. But it's not going to be me who gives it to you. Okay?"

"You should've taken the opportunity when you had it. Who would want to marry you with an attitude like that?" Caroline hissed. She looked at him with such hatred that he was taken aback. He didn't stop her as she grabbed the bag from the table and ran out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her.

Liam sighed in frustration. Women! Caroline was just like the others. They all thought he secretly had money.

Even the woman he was writing to probably would want to marry him if she knew his name, even if she knew nothing else about him. Liam wished he'd never written that letter now, and was grateful that he hadn't had a chance to send it. He'd never send it now.

Correspondences

Posted on Wednesday, 20 January 1999

21 July.

Dear Friend,

Have I said something to upset you? I have not heard from you in over a month. Did I offend you by saying that I had no plans for ever marrying? Or have you not been receiving my letters? Please let me know if you wish to terminate our relationship. I shall not beg for you to continue because I have my pride, but over the past month or so I have come to consider you a dear friend, and one I would not like to lose.

30 July.

Dear Friend,

Please accept my deepest apologies for not responding to you until now. I did receive the letters you have written. Let me reassure you that you did not offend me in any way, and that with all my heart I would like to continue our friendship. The past two months mark the occasion of events I do not like remembering, for they bring back a most difficult time in my life. It's a struggle for me to work, much less do anything else but remember and wish things were different.

Not that work is much of a solace. A couple days after I sent my last letter to you, a young woman I work with stopped by my apartment. I had known she had an interest in me and had no choice but to tell her that I could not return her affections. She did not take it well, and has since been rather spiteful to me. She has caused a great deal of trouble between myself and my superior, and that relationship was strained enough as it was. I have thought of appealing to my employer, but doing so would make me feel like a boy again, running to the teacher to tattle on another child. So I suffer in silence and pray that this woman does not cost me my job...

5 August.

Dear Friend,

I work in place where I have great difficulty getting along with three of the employees. One of them is like the young woman causing you trouble. She is a troublemaker, and yet she is able to make my employer believe her to be a good worker and a complete angel. However, I happen to be in possession of knowledge which mitigates some of the trouble she stirs up, for it is directed at a person who deserves so much worse, that what she does seems petty.

The other employee is the delivery boy, who seems determined to make my life miserable by calling me names and trying to trick my parents into thinking I'm in love with him. He actually had the nerve to come to my parents' home and tell them we were in the "midst of a torrid affair"! Those were his exact words. The very idea of having any sort of romantic relationship with this man makes my stomach crawl, and thank God my father is the sensible sort who could see that without having to be told. My mother is another story altogether. She was so furious that I would reject any man out of hand, that she went through with her threat and hasn't spoken to me since.

Ah, the sounds of silence...

9 AUGUST.

DEAR CATHERINE DE BOURGH,

ARE YOU AWARE OF WHAT YOUR HUSBAND IS DOING WHEN YOU AREN'T AROUND TO WATCH HIM? YOU SHOULD SPEND MORE TIME AT HOME WITH HIM LIKE A WOMAN SHOULD.

A CONCERNED FRIEND.

11 August.

Dear Friend,

I was chuckling over your last letter. You have written about your mother before, enough for me to understand how pleased you are not to have her lecturing all the time. It is at times such as yours that I do not miss my mother, for she was an expert at lecturing. She could go on and on for days. I suppose I should have listened to her--she was forever encouraging me to marry one or another of her friends' daughters. Perhaps if I had, I would not find myself in the mess I am in presently.

But I could not, and I shall not, marry for anything less than love. It made me an oddity with my friends and acquaintances. I like to think that the person who paid the price for my convictions would think it was the right thing.

19 August.

Dear Friend,

I think wanting to marry for love is the most admirable thing I've heard in quite a while. Do you ever dream about the sort of woman you'd want to marry?

I used to think about the man I would marry someday, back when I was young and foolish and thought that there might be a man out there who would want me. He would have to be tall, because I'm very tall for a woman. He didn't have to be handsome, because I always realized that I was not beautiful like my sister and wouldn't attract those men. I wanted a mature man, not one like the boys I see all the time now who want to do nothing more than go to dance halls and cafes all the time. I wanted someone intelligent and caring, serious and astute, but he had to have a sense of humor. I don't think I could live with a man who couldn't laugh at the nonsense of life.

I used to think I could find him, but as time went on and all the men I liked married other women who didn't have half the sense I did, I realized that either I would have to lower my standards or give up altogether. I decided on the latter choice. I recognize my faults, both physical and otherwise. I am too independent, stubborn, and intelligent. Most men, my mother says (when she's speaking to me, which she still isn't), are intimidated by me. I think that any man who could be intimidated by an intelligent, independent woman isn't much of a man.

So you can see that I have a problem.

I have accepted that I shall wind up my life an old maid. I find that I can bear the news with little difficulty. I do, at times, become maudlin and wish that I could find someone and marry. I would like to have children, for I do love children. I think, however, that I shall make a fine aunt to my sisters' children, and that shall simply have to do...

1 September.

Dear Friend,

Forgive the amount of time between this letter and my last, but I have been thinking for quite a while about what I wanted to say. I have a tendency to mangle my intentions when I'm actually speaking, and thus I wanted to get this just right.

I, like you, have accepted the fact that I shall likely spend the rest of my life alone. Yes, I did dream of the woman I'd marry one day, but recently I have come to realize that what I used to want and what I would like now are vastly different. I used to want a woman much like my mother, only without her penchant for lecturing. I thought a woman's place was at home, making a comfortable home for her husband and children. Now, however, my circumstances are so changed that I would probably have to marry a woman who was willing to work so we could have something in life.

But I want something more than that. That last statement might sound like all I want is a workhorse, which isn't the case. I want a woman who is lively and funny, who cares about people. I want someone who loves me as much as I love her. I would hope she would be willing to overlook the terrible things that have happened in my life, forgive me for my role in them, and not try to force issues best left in the past. I want someone who has a brain in her head so that when we sit at home in the evenings we can have real conversations.

Reading that has made me realize something. My dear friend, what I want is someone like you.

11 SEPTEMBER.

DEAR CATHERINE DE BOURGH,

I THOUGHT YOU WOULD LIKE TO KNOW THAT YESTERDAY, I SAW YOUR HUSBAND IN THE COMPANY OF A LOVELY YOUNG WOMAN. THEY APPEARED TO BE QUITE INTIMATE WITH EACH OTHER AND LATER I FOLLOWED THEM TO YOUR HOME. THE WOMAN WAS THERE WITH HIM FOR NEARLY FORTY MINUTES BEFORE SHE LEFT.

I WARNED YOU BEFORE THAT YOU SHOULD KEEP AN EYE ON YOUR HUSBAND BECAUSE THIS IS NOT THE FIRST TIME THIS YOUNG WOMAN HAS BEEN HERE. IN FACT, SHE HAS BEEN SEEING YOUR HUSBAND QUITE REGULARLY SINCE ABOUT THE END OF MAY. I BELIEVE SHE IS AN EMPLOYEE AT YOUR SHOP.

A CONCERNED FRIEND.

12 September.

My Darling Caroline,

Last night my wife came home and accused me of having an affair. I denied it vehemently, and had my daughter to back it up. That idea you had about calling her at college was simply brilliant, my darling. I have no idea how she discovered that we have been seeing each other, but I have a feeling that someone has been keeping tabs on us. One of the nosy neighbors, most likely. Therefore, in the future, we need to take greater care that we are not discovered. My wife doesn't know it was you, and for both our sakes I don't want her to know. I think it would be for the best if we started meeting at your apartment. I shall see you there tomorrow.

Your Loving Alfred.

13 September.

Dear Mrs. De Bourgh:

Enclosed with this letter is the contract you left behind yesterday when you contacted me about investigating your husband. If you wish to attain my services, please sign the contract and include the retainer. Let me assure you that I am discreet and have a reputation of doing a thorough job. If your husband is seeing another woman, I shall discover this and her identity. I sincerely hope, madam, that I find nothing, but I shall look if that is what you wish.

Sincerely,

Christopher Brandon
Brandon and Associates.

14 September.

Dear Friend,

Do you want to meet me? After your last letter, I went and reread all the others we have written over the past few months and realized that I have started to fall in love with you. It sounds mad, does it not? To love someone you've never even met? It's the craziest thing I've done in my life. Were my mother to find out, she would never speak to me again, and this time the "never again" part would last.

Yet I want to meet you. I want to see the wonderful man behind the letters I've been receiving. If this is what you want as well, then we can work something out.

21 September.

Dear Friend,

Yes to everything. Name the day.

1 October.

Mr. Brandon:

I have given the matter a great deal of thought. The last letter I received said that this woman has been showing up since the end of May. The only employee I have ever had at my home is Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and the first time she was at my home was in May when I invited her to dinner. You say that you are willing to discover whether or not my husband is having an affair and who the woman is. Enclosed is the signed contract. Please find out the information, and concentrate on Miss Bennet. I suspect that if Mr. de Bourgh is having an affair, she's the woman he's with.

Catherine de Bourgh
Proprietor, De Bourghs'.

2 October.

Dear Friend,

I would say today, but I know you won't be receiving this letter until tomorrow. Unfortunately, I would say tomorrow, but my sister's birthday is coming up, and as she's been in poor health. I want to make the day as wonderful as possible. There is also another problem.

My life is a bit hectic at the moment. For some reason that I cannot understand, my boss has suddenly become rather hostile to me. I don't know what I've done to earn her antipathy, and she has not said anything to explain so I can change things. I knew something was seriously wrong when she stopped talking to me about taking over the store come the first of the year, as she used to. Indeed, she led one of my coworkers into her office yesterday and when they came out, they were both smiling and he looked rather pleased. He kept looking over the shop with a possessive gaze that I fear bodes ill for my future.

At the moment, I am trying to do my level best to keep things together and I feel that perhaps now isn't the time for us to be meeting until my life is back to normal. Try to understand that I'm not rejecting you at all. In fact, I want to meet you so badly that I feel like crying as I write this letter. But I must concentrate on getting back on my employer's good side, or else everything I've worked for is going to go to that monster I told you about back in June.

22 October.

Dear Friend,

While I am disappointed, I quite understand your dilemma. Under the circumstances, I would not feel right trying to force you to have to deal with more than you think you can handle. For the time being, we shall simply continue to keep writing to each other. If there is anything I can do to help you out by means of moral support, just write me. I'll respond immediately. And if you should change your mind, please let me know and we'll meet anywhere you wish.

1 November.

Dear Friend,

Thank you.

6 December.

Dear Mrs. De Bourgh,

I believe that I have discovered the information you have been seeking. It should take no more than another day or two to verify everything, at which time I shall contact you and we can meet at your leisure.

Christopher Brandon
Brandon and Associates.

December 8 -- Anticipation

Posted on Friday, 22 January 1999

Elizabeth hurried to work that morning, feeling more excited than she had in a long time to be going to work. At least working would keep her mind off of what was to come this evening.

She'd sent the letter to her Dear Friend asking for a meeting two weeks ago. She'd been a bit reluctant, since her work situation hadn't improved in the least, but she decided that perhaps she'd been wrong in not going to meet the man back in late September when he'd wanted to meet. At least she'd have a solid, real, genuine shoulder to cry on and not just someone to write to. He'd replied very quickly.

Dear Friend,

You have no idea how pleased and relieved I was to receive your letter today. I have been eagerly anticipating the day when you would finally agree to meet me, as I'm certain you are well aware. I would like to meet you on December eighth, at 8:00 p.m., at a cafe called Bleeker's. I shall wear a carnation in my lapel. You said in your last letter that you were reading Jane Austen's "Emma," so perhaps you could bring the book and use a carnation as a bookmark.

She had agreed. And so tonight, for the first time since they'd started writing to each other seven months ago, she was going to meet her Dear Friend.

Elizabeth had had trouble sleeping last night, for fear of what she might find tonight when she arrived at Bleeker's. Or what he might think of her. She'd never deceived the man into thinking she was beautiful, but she couldn't quite remember if she'd warned him about how tall she was. What if he had a problem with tall women? What if...

You'll drive yourself mad continuing in this vein. Don't concentrate on him right now, concentrate on work. You have to get through another day with Catherine de Bourgh.

Elizabeth sighed as she turned the final corner. She frowned when she saw who was standing there, reading a newspaper. He was so engrossed that he didn't hear her approach.

"Good morning!" she called when she was less than ten feet away from him.

Charlie looked up from his paper. "Good morning," he said with a smile.

"Charles Bingley, what are you doing here when you should be home with my sister?"

"Your mother arrived at six this morning."

Elizabeth laughed. "Serves me right for not stopping by my parents' apartment this morning. I would've known that and not gotten mad when I saw you here."

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth. She's your mother and a nice lady, but she pampers and fusses over Jane until I know my poor wife can't stand it. It's even worse now that the baby's here. Mrs. Bennet insists that Jane is so weak that she can only hold Jamie when she's feeding him."

Elizabeth smiled at the mention of Jane and Charlie's newborn son, named James Monroe Bingley after his grandfather. For all Jane's problems during the pregnancy, the birth itself had gone easier than expected. Jane was a bit weak, but Elizabeth suspected that had more to do with the fact that she'd been doing almost nothing for six months, than with the birth of her son.

Mrs. Bennet, she knew, had been going by almost every day since that slime Billy Collins had revealed that Jane was pregnant. Elizabeth had apologized to Jane many times for how it had come about, but Jane insisted that it was okay.

"I thought Dad had managed to get her to stop."

"You know how determined your mother is. I probably shouldn't have left Jane alone to deal with her, but since your mother's been there every day, I've had to deal with her too until I couldn't take it anymore. I had to come to work."

"It's okay, Charlie. I understand about my mother. Don't forget, I had to live with her for eighteen years."

Charlie looked at his sister-in-law. There seemed to be something different about her today. "You look happy," he said.

"I am. I have a big dinner date tonight."

"That's wonderful! But I thought that you and Mrs. De Bourgh were still at odds."

"We are. My dinner date's not with her." Elizabeth's happiness faded a bit at the intrusion of her employer in her thoughts. "Charlie, do you have any idea why she's been like she is lately?"

"I don't know. As far as I can tell, nothing's changed as far as her attitude toward me is concerned. If it makes you feel any better, Elizabeth, she's been snapping at everyone."

"Hmm." Perhaps, but Elizabeth still couldn't help feeling that she was getting more than her fair share of the abuse, and certainly much more than she ever earned. "Charlie, mind if I ask you something?"

"Not at all."

"How difficult is it to make ends meet now that Jane's stopped working and has the baby?"

Charlie thought on it for a minute. "Well, things are more difficult, of course. There's the doctor bills on top of everything else."

"Under normal circumstances, though?"

"It's not as bad as you might think. It would be easier if Jane was working, but of course she won't go back now."

"Do you get by on what you make here?"

"Yes. Why are you asking?"

"I was just wondering. I've been looking at larger apartments than the one I have now, only they're all out of my range."

"You want to leave the neighborhood?"

"Not really. It's just that I might need more room soon."

"Really?" Charlie's eyes were the size of saucers. Before he could ask what she'd meant by that, Liam Darcy came strolling up the walk.

"Good morning, Charlie, good to have you back," he said with a pleased smile on his face. "Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth nodded her head and frowned. Liam Darcy had become such a thorn in her side she wished that he'd never thought to come to De Bourghs' to look for a job. And lately he'd been even worse, ever since things had gone downhill between herself and Mrs. De Bourgh. Elizabeth wondered just how much of it had to do with Liam.

The past week had been the worst. He'd gone around with such a happy expression on his face that she'd had to correct him many times over on things he did wrong.

"How are your wife and son this morning, Charlie?"

"They're just fine, but I think I might call over there to make sure Jane's okay. I left her to the care of her mother, which might do her more harm than good." Charlie walked away to find a telephone, leaving Elizabeth alone with Liam.

Elizabeth, not really wanting to talk to him, hunted through her handbag until she found her copy of Emma. She opened it when she remembered something that Mrs. De Bourgh had muttered the other day that Elizabeth should address. "Mr. Darcy," she said, shutting her book.

"Yes, Miss Bennet?"

"Yesterday you wore this bright red tie with blue stripes--"

Liam sighed. The shop hadn't even opened and already she was giving him grief. Would this woman ever let up?

He had thought her rather intriguing at first, but as the months wore on and she became even more frustrating, he gave up. She may be fascinating, but she was a royal pain in the neck. She may be attractive, but he'd rather be married to Caroline Wickham.

"As usual, you're mistaken, Miss Bennet. It was a conservative blue tie with bright red stripes. Everyone else thought it looked terrific. And I don't remember ever talking to you about your apparel, and believe me, Miss Bennet, if you don't think there's anything to comment about the clothing you wear, just ask Miss Wickham. So go away and leave my ties alone."

"I don't care if you want to look like a circus attraction, but Mrs. De Bourgh specifically asked me to tell you to stop wearing such loud ties. I have enough trouble with her without your ties coming between us."

"Listen, I sold more merchandise yesterday than anyone else in the shop! One hundred dollars isn't bad for a rainy Monday three weeks before Christmas. Did you tell that to Mrs. De Bourgh?"

"I did."

"And what did she say?"

"She told me, 'Tell him not to wear such loud ties. It's not professional.'"

"Tell her I won't!"

"I will!" Elizabeth was tempted to tell him to inform Mrs. De Bourgh himself, since they seemed rather close, but instead she went back to her copy of Emma.

Charlie came back a minute later. Elizabeth pulled him far enough away so Liam couldn't hear her and asked softly, "Charlie, this outfit is okay to wear to work, isn't it?"

"You look quite nice. Why?"

"Never mind."

"Before Liam arrived, you told me that you were needing extra space."

"Right. You remember that man I've been writing to for the past several months?"

"Oh, yeah. The one from the ad."

"That's the one. We've been writing all these months and one day, I asked him what he was looking for in a wife. He told me that he'd thought about it and realized that he wanted someone like me. So we decided to meet...tonight. At Bleeker's Cafe, at eight o'clock."

"That's wonderful, Elizabeth. I'm glad to hear it."

"Yeah, well, at least one of us is glad. I'm absolutely terrified that this man won't like me. Worse than that, I'm afraid I won't like him nearly as much as I do now."

"It sounds like he's fallen in love with you. Why are you afraid of him liking you?"

"Because we've never actually met."

"You're in love with someone you've never met?"

"Well..." Elizabeth sighed. "I didn't say love. But I like him so very much, Charlie. I'm so scared that he won't like me. What if he's so attractive that a girl like me has no chance to win him?"

"So what do you want? A homely man?"

"No...no. He can be attractive, just...not too attractive. You knock on wood for me, Charlie, so that I get a handsome, but average man. That's all I want."

Liam buried his head in his paper and didn't notice that Elizabeth and Charlie had walked away from him so he couldn't hear their conversation. He would've been relieved if he had noticed, for Elizabeth had taken all the joy out of this morning and left only the fear.

He was meeting her tonight. Tonight. In less than twelve hours, he would be sitting in a cafe across from the young woman whose letters had haunted him and made him fall in love with her. He would be sitting across from a young woman who was everything opposite of what he thought he'd been looking for when he sent that ad on a whim to the newspaper. He'd been hoping to find someone like Gina only to find someone like...

Like her. He didn't even know her name but he loved her. And he knew it was love, for what else would make him so loopy that he would write a letter to her explaining his feelings as he prepared to get ready for this day? He'd written a letter that she wouldn't receive until after they'd met. He hoped it didn't sound too foolish, for he hadn't intended it to. He just wanted her to know how nervous he'd been, in case he appeared in a bad light tonight.

Liam remembered the worry when he hadn't been able to find that letter this morning. He'd searched everywhere in that small apartment and finally found it under a stack of papers. He couldn't remember putting it there, but then, he had written the letter rather late and had been having trouble sleeping since she'd finally agreed to meet him. It was understandable that he would be a bit out of the ordinary. But at least he'd found the letter, and it was in the mail.

And all that was left was to meet her.

Liam looked up over his paper to see Elizabeth and Charlie talking animatedly. He frowned. Imagine, the nerve of that little upstart, telling him what he should and shouldn't wear. As though he had money to spend buying new ties just to please Mrs. De Bourgh. He had to admit, that tie wasn't something he would normally buy for himself, but he'd thought to liven up his wardrobe a bit and that tie cried out originality.

He was thinking of wearing it tonight.

He heard Susan Price and Charlotte Lucas making their way up the street. A moment later, a cab approached, undoubtedly with Mrs. De Bourgh in it. Charlie rushed away from Elizabeth to open the door for their boss. Tipping his hat, he opened the door.

To everyone's surprise, and Charlie's embarrassment, Caroline Wickham stepped out of the cab. "Thank you, Mr. Bingley," she said with a smile. She turned to the driver and opened her purse. She took out a small wad of bills and peeled two off. "There you go, my good man. Keep the change, put your boy through college."

The driver thanked her and drove away. Caroline turned to her colleagues and smiled smugly. "Well, I can see by the looks on your underpaid faces that you're wondering where I got all this money."

"No, Miss Wickham, I don't wonder," Susan muttered.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing. I just mean I don't wonder where you get your money. I don't care."

Truth be told, Liam was certain that everyone was dying to know where Caroline Wickham got all that money. He had a feeling it had not been earned by hard work, but it wasn't his business where she got it.

Another cab approached, and again, Charlie rushed over so he could open the door. Before he could get there, however, Billy Collins suddenly appeared and opened the door. Mrs. De Bourgh stepped out, gave money to the driver, and looked at the main window display.

"Good morning, Mrs. De Bourgh," everyone said to her.

"Good morning." She frowned. "This window display is terrible. I've been looking at other shops, and there isn't a worse one anywhere. I think we'll stay late tonight and rearrange everything."

Elizabeth's eyes widened. No! Not tonight! I have to meet my friend tonight!

Charlotte Lucas had been standing next to Liam. He said softly, "I have to get out of it."

"Mr. Darcy, when Mrs. De Bourgh is in this mood, there's no chance you'll be able to."

"I have to. I have a date at eight o'clock, and she'll never forgive me if I don't get there. Tell me, Miss Lucas, did you notice the tie I was wearing yesterday?"

"The blue one with the red stripes? Yeah. I liked it, even if Mrs. De Bourgh didn't."

"How do you know she didn't like it?"

"I heard her telling Elizabeth to have you stop wearing it. She doesn't think it's professional."

Liam sighed. He'd thought Elizabeth was making that up, but now he saw that she hadn't been. "You really liked it?"

"Yes. It's not something I thought you would normally wear, but it did look terrific on you."

"I'm glad you think so. I was planning to wear it tonight." After all, Mrs. De Bourgh and Elizabeth Bennet won't be there.

He started feeling nervous all over again. In less than twelve hours, he would meet her at last.

Explosion

Posted on Friday, 29 January 1999

There was tension in the air. Elizabeth didn't know why, today of all days, the entire store had to be on edge. The only person who seemed to be in a good mood was Caroline Wickham...and that was enough to annoy Elizabeth all over again.

Business was brisk for the first two hours, relieving the tension for a while as everyone kept busy, but once it died out, the tension returned.

Elizabeth watched the last of the customers walk out the door, wondering why Mrs. De Bourgh was so upset with her. It had been like this since the beginning of October. She'd thought a great deal about it and could come up with nothing that could've brought about such a rift. She hadn't been rude to a customer. No money had come up missing. They hadn't quarreled outright over Charlie or a window or anything. Yet something had undeniably happened.

For some reason, Elizabeth got the feeling that it was personal, this animosity Mrs. De Bourgh had toward her. And it made no sense.

Elizabeth looked out over the customer-empty store. Her gaze fell on Liam Darcy, and she wondered--as she had before--if he'd had anything to do with it. The man had already proven himself unscrupulous, a liar, and almost subhuman, but he hadn't been believed before. Why was Mrs. De Bourgh believing him now?

She'd stewed over it for two months, had more than her fair share of headaches, and she was tired of it. Something had to change, and she was tired of waiting for Mrs. De Bourgh to tell her what it was. Elizabeth decided to approach her now, while the shop was empty and there would be no risk of losing a sale.

Elizabeth walked over to the office and tapped on the door. "Come in," a distracted voice said.

Elizabeth walked into the room. The moment her eyes locked with Mrs. De Bourgh's a hatred clouded the older woman's.

Hatred? Elizabeth thought she had to be mistaken, but there was no other word to describe it.

"Mrs. De Bourgh..." Elizabeth hesitated to say what was on her mind in the face of that dislike.

"Well, what is it?" Mrs. De Bourgh snapped sharply.

"Mrs. De Bourgh, there's something I'd like to talk to you about."

"Is it important to De Bourghs'?"

"No."

"Then it can wait until later." Mrs. De Bourgh returned to her paperwork.

Elizabeth knew she'd been dismissed. Mrs. De Bourgh's animosity stunned her. Always before, she could count on Mrs. De Bourgh to listen to her. Now she didn't even want to talk to her.

She almost lost her courage, but Elizabeth Bennet hadn't become the top salesperson in all of New York City by backing down from anyone, not even her boss. She didn't leave the room.

It took Catherine a minute to realize that Elizabeth was still standing there. "Well, what do you want now?"

"Mrs. De Bourgh, for some time I've noticed that your attitude toward me has changed, and I don't understand it. I work just as hard as I always have before--"

"And you get paid for it, don't you?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Every month?"

"Yes."

"Then that's all that should matter. Was there anything else, Miss Bennet?"

Elizabeth indeed had a great deal more to say, but she knew the wisdom of not provoking Mrs. De Bourgh in this sort of mood, especially when it seemed to be directed at her, so she held her tongue and left the room.

Charlie was waiting for her. "What happened?"

Elizabeth expelled a frustrated breath. "I swear to God, Charlie, I'm not going to take much more of this. I don't know what bee has gotten into her bonnet, but I'm tired of feeling the sting. Why has she taken it all out on me lately?"

"Well, you are her oldest employee," Charlie offered.

"Oh, that's a perfect reason," Elizabeth said sarcastically.

"It's not just you, Elizabeth. She's been picking at everyone. The last day I was here before Jane had the baby, she called me an idiot. What could I do? I said, 'Yes, Mrs. De Bourgh, I'm an idiot.' I'm no fool."

"I'm not either. That's why I might just take my chances, quit this job and try to find a place where I can be appreciated. I can find another job easily."

"Can you? Be realistic. Millions of people are out of work. You'd have one strike against you by being a woman."

"I might be a woman, but I'm the best salesperson around. I can name half a dozen shops that would kill to have someone like me in their stores, and yet I've stayed here because I felt such loyalty to her. And look at how she's repaying me. She's been blatantly rude and she's probably going to give this place to Liam Darcy. And if I told you everything I knew about him, you'd wonder whether or not she'd lost her mind!"

"Keep your voice down, Elizabeth," Charlie hissed, looking around the shop to see if anyone had heard her. "And I'm not saying that you wouldn't be able to find a job. I'm just saying it's tough. And don't forget, you were the one talking about getting a larger apartment earlier today."

Elizabeth knew what he meant by that, because she wouldn't be able to get a better apartment without two incomes. Leaving her job now could jeopardize everything, especially since she'd told her friend how much she enjoyed her work.

"Look, this might only be temporary. Maybe she's got business on her mind...or her daughter. They say that when the children leave home, mothers take it quite hard. Or maybe she's having troubles with her husband."

Caroline had been half-listening to the conversation between them, as it had little news other than the possibility of Elizabeth leaving De Bourghs'. The mere mention of marital problems caused her to give up her pretense of dusting shelves to ask, "Is that true, Bingley? Is she having trouble with her husband?"

Elizabeth had walked away because she'd seen Caroline approaching, leaving a flustered Charlie behind. Charlie uttered, "We were just talking. What are you doing? I don't know anything, I'm just talking to Elizabeth, go away, leave me alone..."

Caroline was used to Charlie acting that way around her and thought nothing peculiar, but the merest suggestion that Mrs. De Bourgh suspected Alfred of having an affair worried her. They'd been beyond discreet, furtive, secluded. Had she caught on?

Charlie caught up to Elizabeth. "Lisa, please," he murmured in a low voice. "Think it over before doing anything rash. You've put in eight years here, and I'm sure things will be fine soon."

"I hope you're right, Charlie, because I don't think I can take much more of this."

Elizabeth walked into the stock room where Billy and Liam were putting bags on the top shelf.

"Miss Bennet, do you think I'll have to stay late tonight? My father has a rather dreadful cold, and I'm needed to help him out."

"It's okay, Billy. I'll talk to Mrs. De Bourgh about it. Besides, you'd probably be more of hindrance than a help." Elizabeth sighed. "Speaking of which, Miss Lucas has several deliveries she needs you to make. Go see her."

Billy walked out quickly. Liam looked at Elizabeth, wondering how he could possibly convince her that he needed to have the night off as well. He had no excuse like Billy's, and the real reason wasn't likely to impress her.

Liam thought about it and wondered if perhaps flattery would work. She was a woman, after all.

Elizabeth had picked up two traveling bags and was preparing to climb up the ladder to place them on the shelf.

"If you'll hand those to me, Miss Bennet, I can put them up for you."

They were heavier than Elizabeth expected, so she accepted the help graciously. "Thank you, Mr. Darcy."

"Not a problem at all, Miss Bennet. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"I think you and Billy got most of it."

"It was no trouble at all."

Elizabeth climbed down from the ladder and prepared to leave.

"Miss Bennet...about my ties."

She almost groaned. She was in no mood for another fight. "Mr. Darcy, I know I seemed harsh and I'm sorry--"

"Oh, it's--no, I didn't want--I wanted--" Damn! Why can I never speak a simple declarative sentence? "I wanted to apologize for my statements. I was wrong and you were right. The tie I wore yesterday was just awful. Mrs. De Bourgh was right in having you tell me to not wear it again."

"Well...I didn't think it was such a bad tie. Indeed, outside of this sort of setting I think it would be quite dashing, but...for business, it was a bit de trop."

"Indeed it was," Liam said. He was floundering. He had no idea how to flatter this woman, because she was such an unnatural woman. "You know, I've come to realize that anyone who works here for long and doesn't learn something from you about sales is just plain dumb. And I'd tell anyone that regardless of how I felt about you personally."

"Why would you say that, Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth's interest was piqued.

"Well...you're so smart...and innovative. You're not like other women."

Elizabeth's brow furrowed. "How?"

"Oh! I didn't mean that in a bad way. I meant..." What had he meant? "Most women would use a job like this to snare a husband. When I worked at Hirsch and Co., all three of the women wanted to snag a wealthy man. It was sad, really. But you...Miss Bennet, when a man arrives at that door, you're only interested in selling him something. I admire that about you."

Elizabeth beamed. "Well, I just don't think that any man would show interest in me, so why bother?"

"I think you sell yourself short, Miss Bennet."

"Even if my wardrobe is decidedly lacking?" Elizabeth's eyes sparkled, and Liam was once again taken aback by what a pretty young woman she was and how lovely were her eyes.

"I'm sorry about saying that. It was inappropriate, and your wardrobe is more than adequate...but I had to defend my tie."

Elizabeth laughed, and Liam found himself liking the sound of it. "Then I forgive you. You know, you're showing a great deal of sense today, and I rather like that about you." I just wish I didn't find what you've done so repulsive. I wish I didn't have my doubts about whether or not you did what Caroline said. But why would Caroline lie if it weren't true?

Liam decided that now would be the best time to broach the real subject. "You know, I'm glad you said that about my tie because I was planning to wear that tonight. I have a very important--"

"Tonight? Don't you remember what Mrs. De Bourgh said? We have to stay after close to redo the window."

"Oh...I forgot. We do, don't we?"

"Yes." Elizabeth turned her attention to some rather pretty jewelry boxes and missed the nervous, calculating look on Liam's face.

"Uh...Miss Bennet, do you think you could spare me tonight? If you talked to Catherine and got her approval, then she would probably let me go."

Elizabeth's cheeks flamed. Manipulated again. "Oh, so that's why you've changed your attitude toward me all of the sudden. I wondered what you were plotting."

"I don't understand, Miss Bennet." Liam tried to look innocent, but he knew he was failing miserably.

"You want to get the night off."

"I have to have it, Miss Bennet."

"You're out of luck. God, that was obvious! And I almost fell for it."

"Please, I have to have tonight off! I have a very important date and I have to be there. It's vitally important."

"Well, I have somewhere to be as well, but I'll probably end up staying. If I can't go, why should I speak to Catherine on your behalf?"

"I thought perhaps you--"

"You've done nothing but antagonize me for the last six months, and now you think flattering me for a few minutes is going to change all that?"

"You haven't exactly been very nice to me, either. You get so nitpicky about everything I could scream. You tell me to do things your way, and even after I do you don't like it. You tell me how to do everything as though I were a child. I'm a man, and a fairly intelligent one at that. I have ideas that you don't even listen to."

"Mr. Darcy, I've been in the sales business long before you ever thought that people had to earn money by doing work. I can tell the difference between a good idea and a bad idea. And if you have problems taking orders from a woman--"

"Spare me your suffragette speeches, all right? They get tiring. The day may soon come, Miss Bennet, when I will no longer have to take orders from you, and then I'll let you know how I really feel about you." Liam paused. "And as for that tie, I happen to think it's nice and I'm going to wear it tonight."

Elizabeth didn't hear the last part of his declaration. She had stilled for a moment. The day may soon come...no longer take orders from you.

She knew what it meant. Eight years of hard work destroyed by this selfish, rotten, evil...She had no doubt now who was behind the troubles between Mrs. De Bourgh and herself.

Liam took advantage of her sudden silence to walk into the showroom. Mrs. De Bourgh was staring absent-mindedly at the cigarette boxes that had never sold.

"Mrs. De Bourgh?" He asked hesitantly, walking over to her.

"Yes, Liam?"

"I was wondering if you could spare me tonight? I have to be somewhere rather important."

Mrs. De Bourgh thought for a moment. "Let's see...we'll need only three people to redo that window, so...Miss Bennet?"

Elizabeth had managed to calm down and walk out of the back room. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Do you think you can do without Mr. Darcy tonight?"

Elizabeth glared at Liam. Typical of the man to heap this on her shoulders. "Actually, Mrs. De Bourgh, I was wanting to talk to you. See, I--"

"What--do you want the night off as well?" Mrs. De Bourgh's eyes were blazing again, and Elizabeth felt a little nervous. It was one thing to take a tongue-lashing in private, and quite another to have to bear it in front of everyone else.

"Well, yes."

Mrs. De Bourgh finally exploded. "What is this? Does everyone want the night off? Is this the interest you show in my shop?"

Charlie, thinking he would be doing Elizabeth a favor, entered the conversation hesitantly. "Mrs. De Bourgh, I've talked it over with Miss Bennet and I know her ideas. I think that if I stayed, along with--"

"You and Miss Bennet talked it over? Whose shop is this, anyhow?"

"Mrs. De Bourgh, please. I rarely ask for any favors, but tonight I need to. There's someplace I need to be. If I'd known yesterday that you'd want to redo the window--"

"Next time I'll send you an engraved invitation." Elizabeth flinched. "Very well, Miss Bennet, you need the night off so badly, you have it."

"Mrs. De Bourgh, I'm sorry. Let me explain--"

"You got your night off. What more do you want--a brass band to see you off?" Mrs. De Bourgh turned to the group of motionless employees. "Once a year, I ask six ladies and gentlemen, six mind you, to stay late. I don't need six. The shop across the street is twice this size and employs only four!"

A middle-aged woman walked in, cutting off Mrs. De Bourgh's tirade. Mrs. De Bourgh smiled at her as though nothing were wrong. "Good morning, madam. How may I help you?"

"Do you have any traveling bags for men--with zippers?"

"Oh, yes, madam, we have all sorts of traveling bags with zippers for men."

"That's wonderful. I'm going to let my husband know he can come here. He'll be here tomorrow to look over what you have."

"Thank you, madam."

"Thank you."

Mrs. De Bourgh escorted the lady out the door, then turned back to her hapless staff. "Six people, who stand around all day doing nothing, when I have to pay for the gas and the lights and the rent and the taxes, and their salaries!"

The telephone rang. Mrs. De Bourgh picked it up. "Good morning, De Bourghs'." She listened for a moment, then looked at Charlie. "Mr. Bingley."

Charlie looked sheepish as he picked up the phone. "Hello? Yes, Jane, I did call. I have to work late tonight, so we won't be able to have dinner with your parents. Isn't that wonderful?...I knew you would be pleased. Good-bye, darling." Charlie hurriedly hung up.

And Mrs. De Bourgh continued. "Six people I ask for one small favor...and you, Miss Bennet, my oldest employee, who should be setting the example..."

Elizabeth, finally, had had enough. "Mrs. De Bourgh, you spoke like this to me yesterday, and I don't know what I did to deserve it. In fact, you've been acting strangely towards me for two months, and with no reason at all."

"No reason?" That seemed to take the spark out of her eyes. "Perhaps I have better reason than you think."

Elizabeth wanted to scream, What reason? but she didn't. "It's pretty clear that you're dissatisfied with me."

"You...can draw your own conclusions."

Elizabeth bit back tears at the almost aloof way Mrs. De Bourgh held herself. "Then if that's how you feel, then there's really nothing more to be done. Perhaps we should just call it a day."

Mrs. De Bourgh was about to say something when the phone rang again. She picked it up. "Hello? Oh, hello Alfred. What? Oh, I forgot...Charlotte, put three hundred dollars in an envelope and have Billy take it to Mr. de Bourgh."

"Billy's out with delivery, ma'am. He'll likely be gone most of the afternoon."

Charlie again tried to intercede. "Mrs. De Bourgh, Miss Bennet and I have lunch at Fargo's, just a few blocks away from your house. We could take it by there, couldn't we, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth hesitated, but said, "Yes."

"No, thank you, Miss Bennet." Mrs. De Bourgh looked around the room and spotted Caroline, who was studiously looking at the floor. "Miss Wickham, would you mind taking this? I know it would interfere with your lunch hour, but--"

"Don't worry about that, ma'am. It would be a pleasure."

The scene ended with a customer walking into the store, Elizabeth rushing to get the sale, and Catherine de Bourgh walking back to her office to contemplate what she was eventually to do later that evening.

The World's Turned Upside Down.

Posted on February 2, 1998

The rest of the afternoon passed without incident for Elizabeth, with one small exception. At about two in the afternoon, she received a most unusual telephone call from her youngest sister Lydia.

"Good, I got you, Lisa," she said. "I was afraid you wouldn't be able to talk to me."

"What is it you want, Lydia?"

"Well, you see...I have this new boyfriend. I met him through the personals, so you know that Mom doesn't like him because he didn't grow up in the neighborhood and she doesn't know his family. And Dad doesn't like him for God only knows what reason, so they've told me that I can't go out with him. I think it's most unfair, and as I happen to be an adult I think I should be able to choose who I go out with, but Dad says that as long as I'm living under his roof that I'm going to do what he says, so I told him that I was going to move out and Mom said that I wasn't going to become the second Bennet daughter to make her a laughingstock and--"

"Would you please get to the point!"

"Sorry. Anyway, I have a date with him...his name's George, did I tell you that? I have a date with George, and I need you to cover for me."

"How will I do that?"

"Well, actually, all you need to do is not go home until later this evening. Then, when Mom or Dad ask, the two of us were together."

"Won't work."

"Why not?"

"Because I have to stay late tonight and work on a window. Charlie's got to stay with me, so me telling anyone that story would be spotted as a lie, because he never learned the art form of deception."

"Then tell them that we went after you got off work! Please, Elizabeth. I don't ask you for much, you know. And this guy is so wonderful that I don't understand why Mom's being so obstinate about him. If she rejected everyone not from the neighborhood, we never would've married into those spheres she wanted us to marry into before the Depression."

"The 'sphere' she wanted us to marry into, as you put it, was one where family lineages were known throughout the country."

"Well, really the only thing she has against George is that I met him through a personal ad. I know that you can't understand how those things work, but..."

Elizabeth sighed, thinking of the man she was supposed to be meeting tonight, the one who wouldn't know that she had been forced to miss their date. He probably wouldn't forgive her, no matter how many apologetic letters she wrote.

"Don't worry about it, Lydia. I'll make sure Mom and Dad don't know anything," she said quietly. "I hope this man is worth it, though."

She could almost hear Lydia smiling. "He is."

After that phone call, there were plenty of customers to distract Elizabeth from everything else.

Catherine de Bourgh spent the afternoon thinking things over before making a difficult decision. She came out to close the store and returned to her office, leaving the window in the employees' hands.

She then spent the next thirty minutes writing a letter. When she finished, she looked over the document with a heavy heart.

Elizabeth was helping Liam decorate the top of the Christmas tree she'd decided to place in the window, occasionally glaring at him. She received her share of glares in return.

Mrs. De Bourgh looked at Elizabeth for a long minute before saying, "Miss Bennet, could you come into my office for a moment?"

A bit apprehensive, but believing that perhaps this whole situation was finally to be talked out, Elizabeth walked to Mrs. De Bourgh's office and shut the door.

"Yes, Mrs. De Bourgh?"

"Elizabeth, I've given a lot of thought on what you said earlier."

"Mrs. De Bourgh, I'm so sorry for that. I'm afraid I lost my temper and--"

"No, no. I've thought about it and I think you were right. I think you'd...be happier somewhere else."

Elizabeth's body went cold. She couldn't quite believe what she'd just heard, because it sounded as though she'd just been fired.

There must be some sort of mistake. I've been here eight years...she's talked of letting me take over...

Liam's words came back to her. "Someday soon...no longer have to take orders from you..."

Mrs. De Bourgh said nothing as Elizabeth took in the news.

He knew! Elizabeth's mind screamed. He knew I was going to be fired! Bad enough that it's happened, but for him to know before she bothered to tell me!

"Normally, you'd be entitled to one months' salary...but I've given you two."

Oh God, this is really happening? Why? What did I do? Elizabeth wanted to ask that question. She wanted to beg Mrs. De Bourgh to tell her how she could make amends. She wanted to beg for her job.

But she couldn't. Elizabeth Kate Bennet might kowtow to customers, but she had her pride. She would never beg.

"Thank you," she said in a hollow voice.

"You'll need to sign this receipt..." Mrs. De Bourgh handed her a slip of paper. Elizabeth found a pencil and scrawled her name.

Mrs. De Bourgh held out an envelope for her to take. "This...is a letter of recommendation that certainly won't handicap you in finding another job."

Elizabeth's bloodless fingers took the envelope.

Never in her life had Catherine felt so terrible. For all she'd said earlier, for everything she felt toward Elizabeth now, she was still the best worker she'd ever had...and she'd been a good friend. If only...

Never mind dwelling on that. "Good bye, Elizabeth." She extended her hand.

Elizabeth shook it, then slowly walked out of the room, dazed.

Five eager faces stood outside the door, waiting for her to tell them what the boss had wanted. "Well?" Charlie asked.

Elizabeth looked at them. She'd miss them all...even Caroline.

With a faint smile, and trembling fingers, she opened the letter and read it to them.

To whom it may concern,

I wish to state that Miss Elizabeth Bennet leaves my employ of her own accord. She began working at De Bourghs' eight years ago as an apprentice. Through her diligence and dedication she worked her way up to the position of clerk, and for the past three years she has been our top salesperson. Miss Bennet has consistently impressed us with her intelligence, hard work, honesty, and generosity. We believe that she would be a valuable asset to any company, and can recommend her without reserve. Miss Bennet has our best wishes for her health, happiness, and future success in her career.

Catherine de Bourgh
Proprietor, De Bourghs'.

The group sat in stunned silence at the news that the best of them had just been fired. Elizabeth didn't think she could handle their pity and quickly made her way to the employees' room. She stood in front of her locker, still in shock herself. She knew that in a very short time this was going to sink in and she would be in no shape to appear in front of anyone. She had to get away, and quickly.

Elizabeth looked at the carnation, sitting in a tiny vase of water, the one she'd planned to use as a bookmark. She heard someone walk in as she kept looking at it and figured it was Charlie.

"Lisa...how could this have happened?"

"If I could explain it to you, Charlie, I would. But I can't."

"To be fired...you...without reason!"

"That's the advantage of being the boss. You don't have to explain anything." Elizabeth took the flower out of her locker and sighed. "Well, I guess I got out of tonight after all." She pitched the carnation into the trash can.

"You're not going?"

"No. I can't face him tonight. I...I made such a point about being independent, of my job, how I had no plans of quitting should I ever marry. If I meet him tonight, without a job...he'd probably think I was lying to him all along. I can't do it, Charlie." Her voice cracked as she said, "The world's turned upside down, and I have no idea how to turn it right again."

Elizabeth put her coat and hat on, stuffed her book into her handbag, took one last look around the room, then went out to face her former co-workers for the last time.

They were still in the same places they'd been before she'd gone into the employees' room, frozen in shock. She knew what they were thinking--that if she'd been fired, the person who'd had the most experience and was the most loyal and hard working, then they could be fired as well.

Elizabeth didn't particularly care about their feelings at the moment, but she could understand and empathize with the fact that their futures were as tenuous as hers. The only difference was, they still had jobs and she didn't.

She looked at Liam Darcy with a hard look in her eye, but she noticed something right away. He was even more stunned than the rest of them...almost as though he really hadn't been expecting her to get fired. There was such a shocked and horrified look on his face that Elizabeth realized he'd had no idea she was about to be fired.

But she still got the feeling he'd had something to do with it.

It was Caroline who finally said something. "Miss Bennet, I think I speak for everyone when I say that this is a shock for all of us. We all feel as though we're losing a part of our family...and certainly the best worker here. Please...take care of yourself...and good luck to you in the future." She extended her hand for Elizabeth to shake.

"Thank you, Miss Wickham." Elizabeth took the hand limply, then let it go.

It was Susan Price who spoke next. "I don't understand," she said. "Why is this happening?"

"I don't know, Susan. I guess it's just one of those things...maybe it was time for me to go. You stay in one place too long and things get stale. This sort of thing happens every day, you know...someone getting fired. I'm going to miss you, Susan. Say hello to your aunt for me."

Susan nodded, her head lowered, clearly blinking back tears.

Elizabeth turned to Charlotte and Charlie next. "Well, I'm going to see the two of you, of course. Charlie, if you need baby-sitting duties, it appears that I'm going to have plenty of time on my hands now."

"Don't joke about this, Elizabeth," he murmured.

"I'm not. I'll expect you to pay me well, of course." She managed to keep her smile, but she soon turned to business. "Miss Lucas, you'll see that the sale on my number five ticket had to be canceled, but I already deducted it from the final totals for today. Everything should be in order."

Charlotte could do nothing more than nod.

Finally, Elizabeth and Liam faced each other. "Mr. Darcy," she said slowly, "if I was the reason that you didn't get tonight off, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about that," he said. "Miss Bennet, I feel responsible for what happened. I know this is all my fault, because I started that business this afternoon--"

"Don't blame yourself," she said. "I think this was coming for a while now."

"I know we didn't get along all that well before, but please believe me that I wouldn't have wished this on you. This is a dreadful time to be out of work, something you don't wish--"

"--on your worst enemy, I know."

"I wasn't going to say that."

Elizabeth couldn't help smiling. "Let's not end our relationship in an argument, okay?"

He nodded. "Good-bye, Miss Bennet."

"Good-bye, Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth took one last look around the shop she'd loved so much for the past eight years. She felt the pain rising, the realization of what had happened setting in...she had to go.

Elizabeth hastily set down the pencil and notebook with the De Bourghs' design on them, said one final good-bye to everyone, and walked out of the shop for the last time. She managed to make it around the corner before she stopped, her shoulders shaking and her body practically convulsing with the sobs coming from deep within her.

Her words to Charlie haunted her. The world's been turned upside down, and I have no idea how to turn it right again.

Elizabeth didn't notice when a pair of strong arms enveloped her, cradling her head on his chest and she sobbed. She stayed like this for a few minutes before finally coming to the realization that someone was holding her, and when she looked up she saw the lamplight reflecting off of his copper hair. With a feral moan, she ripped herself out of his arms and ran away, thinking that of all the gall that man had, it had been extreme in holding her as she'd cried, when he was the reason for it all.

Liam stared after her, wishing there'd been more he could've done to help her. He had an idea of what she was thinking. He wish he could've told her that he'd had nothing to do with it, but she wouldn't have believed him anyway. He'd admired the way she'd held herself together in front of them, but sensed that she would break down quickly and knew she'd need a shoulder to cry on, even if it was his.

He couldn't help wishing that she hadn't run off so quickly, because he'd liked the way she'd felt in his arms. She was tall enough that he didn't have to bend down just to look into her eyes. She was, to his surprise, in possession of a nice figure, which had fit into his arms rather nicely. He only wished that her eyes had been brighter and happier.

You're only thinking about her because you know the woman you're supposed to be meeting tonight is going to hate you for not showing up. And no matter how much you might apologize, she'll never forgive you for it. She'll take it the wrong way, just as you would if she didn't show.

Liam sighed and returned to the shop. The window still wasn't finished, and he was the only one tall enough to finish the top of the tree without needing the ladder. He would have time enough later to wish he'd been able to meet his friend, and to wonder why Elizabeth Bennet continued to haunt him even after he'd determined to put her out of his mind forever.

The Report

Posted on Wednesday, 3 February 1999

Catherine de Bourgh had been waiting two days for the telephone call that finally came soon after she'd heard Elizabeth Bennet leave the shop. She was still miserable, wondering why, of all her employees, it had to be the one she trusted and cared for the most that had stabbed her in the heart. Why it had to be Elizabeth who had had an affair with her husband.

It could only be her. She was the only one who had actually met Alfred in a social setting at those three dinners she'd invited her to during the spring and early summer.

The phone rang shrilly, and Catherine picked it up. "Hello?" she said quickly.

"Mrs. De Bourgh? This is Christopher Brandon."

"Yes?"

"I have confirmation of the information you've been seeking. I can meet with you anytime it's convenient."

"Oh...all right. Please...come right over. I'll be waiting." Catherine hung up the phone and looked at the door. Brandon and Associates was about five blocks from here, so Mr. Brandon should soon be here, telling her what she'd suspected since that second letter had come...that Alfred had been having an affair...and having it with Elizabeth Bennet. There was no doubt that it was true...confirmation was the word Brandon had used, after all.

She had to get her employees out of the shop immediately. She quickly opened the door and said, "Everyone...you can all go home. We'll finish the window tomorrow morning before we open."

Liam looked at his watch. It was seven-thirty...which meant that he wouldn't have time to go home and get his tie, but he would have just enough time to get to Bleeker's Cafe in time to meet his friend.

Thank you, God! he wanted to shout as he raced into the employee room, grabbed his coat, and took out the tiny vase he'd hidden there earlier, hiding the carnation he was to wear to identify himself to her. He accidentally bumped into Charlotte Lucas, who grinned as he excused himself hurriedly. "Sorry," he said. "Good night!"

"Good night, Mr. Darcy," Charlotte said with a grin.

Charlie stayed behind just long enough to make a telephone call. "Mrs. Younge...this is Charles Bingley. I'm Elizabeth Bennet's brother-in-law...yes, I know she hasn't come home yet. When she does, could you tell her that we've gotten off work early, and that I'll be over there in just a little while? She should be coming home soon."

The woman agreed to tell her tenant to wait for Charlie, who then called Jane. "Janie, it's Charlie. I don't know if Lisa's talked to you, but she got fired today, and I don't think she should be alone. I'm going over there now to tell her to come to our house. She can sleep on the couch if she wants, but I don't want her to go home alone."

When he looked up after calling his wife, Mrs. De Bourgh was standing there. Charlie looked guilty, but he realized that he had every right to call his wife and voice concern over a member of his family. "I...I hope you didn't mind that I called from here," he said, refusing to apologize for being worried about Elizabeth.

"Not at all."

"She's going to be feeling down tonight...and..."

"You don't need to apologize about it to me, Mr. Bingley. I'm well aware of your relationship to her."

Charlie realized that he'd probably made a bad situation worse by suggesting that he had talked to Elizabeth about the windows during the explosion today, and prayed that he wasn't about to get himself in trouble. "Mrs. De Bourgh, she was the best worker you'd ever had. Why did you let her go?"

"Mr. Bingley..."

"Her entire life since she became of age to get a job, and she spent it here. She loved this place so much...and you treated her just as if she were your own daughter, inviting her to your home several times, telling her that you were probably going to let her take over the shop when you retired."

"Mr. Bingley, you like having your job here, don't you?"

Charlie knew he'd gone too far. "Yes, Mrs. De Bourgh. I have a family. Jane and our baby Jamie."

"Then you wouldn't want anything to happen to it and wreck things for your wife and infant son." Mrs. De Bourgh was cold, but she didn't want to talk about Elizabeth Bennet any longer. "Good night, Mr. Bingley."

"Good night, Mrs. De Bourgh." Charlie left the store, hurrying to get to Elizabeth's apartment building and trying not to think of the troubling conversation he'd just had.

Charlotte and Susan Price were the next to leave, saying cheerful good nights to Mrs. De Bourgh before she could change her mind about giving them the rest of the evening off.

Caroline Wickham stayed behind for a quick moment. "Good night, Mrs. De Bourgh."

"Good night, Caroline," Mrs. De Bourgh said politely, mentally shooing the woman out of her shop.

"Oh...I don't think I remembered to pass along Mr. de Bourgh's message to you when I came back from delivering the money to him. He wanted me to tell you that if you decided not to work late tonight to call him. Did I tell you that?"

"You did, Miss Wickham, but thank you for reminding me."

"You're welcome, Mrs. De Bourgh." Caroline paused deliberately, then said, "You know, Mrs. De Bourgh, the last time I had the pleasure of going to your home you were in the process of redecorating the dining room and getting new place settings. You remember...you had me take something to Mr. de Bourgh that you'd forgotten to send with Billy? Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I thought what you did was exquisite. I can only imagine what it would look like in the evenings with candles around it...at a dinner party." Having planted the first seeds and taken her first steps towards taking over Elizabeth Bennet's place in the shop, she smiled and said, "Good night, Mrs. De Bourgh."

"Good night," she replied, too occupied to pay much attention to what Caroline had said.

Catherine locked the door behind her and stood inside the empty shop, waiting for Mr. Brandon to arrive. A few moments later, there was a sharp knock on the door. She peeked out the window to see him standing there. She opened the door and let him in. "Good evening, Mr. Brandon," she said.

"Good evening, Mrs. De Bourgh." He took off his hat and then took a folder he'd been keeping hidden in his coat.

"It's true, then?" she asked quietly. "You said 'confirmation' over the phone."

"I'm afraid it is, and it isn't," Brandon said. "This is the report on Alfred de Bourgh. Last night, at 8:00, he left your residence and took a taxi to 42nd Street. From there, he engaged another taxi and went to a cafe called Bleeker's. There he was joined by a young lady. The two of them had dinner, then parted. He took a taxi to the Danube Hotel, where he was rejoined by the same young lady. The two of them spent the evening in room 252. Mr. de Bourgh left at around 1:15 am and returned home.

"But you were wrong about something. You see, Mrs. De Bourgh, you were right to suspect one of your employees...but it wasn't the right one. My two operators identified the woman Mr. de Bourgh was with as Miss Wickham."

Catherine paled visibly. "Wickham?"

Brandon sighed, wishing he didn't have to do this for a living. He hated it. But in these troubled times... "Yes," he said. "Caroline Louisa Wickham. She's been in your employ for about two years, correct?"

"Nearly three."

"We traced the young lady you suspected, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, until we realized that it couldn't possibly be her from the information you gave us about your husband's whereabouts during the month of October. That's when we concentrated on the others, and eliminated Miss Lucas and Miss Price. That left us with Miss Wickham, and although she went to great efforts, as did your husband, to conceal the affair, we...were able to find it out. I'm sorry, Mrs. De Bourgh. I sincerely wish that I could've come today and told you that it wasn't true at all."

"Why did you not tell me before?"

"You said you didn't want to hear from me again until I could tell you for certain every detail. And now I have."

The enormity of what she'd done that afternoon impacted her with a heavy weight. She had suspected and believed that Elizabeth Bennet had betrayed her. She had thought she was correct in knowing that Elizabeth had been the only employee to visit her home, other than Billy. But now she remembered...Caroline herself had told her...that she'd sent Caroline to her home once before...she'd sent her there today...

And she'd fired the wrong woman. She'd fired her best employee, thinking she was the traitor in her midst...and she'd been innocent all along. Catherine realized that she hadn't even allowed Elizabeth a chance to defend herself, because she'd never told her what she suspected. And even if she had, and Elizabeth denied it, she wouldn't have believed her.

But more than that was the fact that Alfred really had had an affair with another woman...a prettier, younger, vivacious...lying, conniving, loathsome...

"Twenty-two years we've been married," Catherine said softly. "We were so happy until this year. I guess he was afraid of getting older and wanted to feel young again..." She looked at the sympathy in Brandon's eyes and couldn't take it. "If you'll send me your bill, I'll make sure it's taken care of immediately."

"Thank you, Mrs. De Bourgh...and again, I apologize for the news I had to bring."

"Do not apologize for doing your job. It's better that I know for certain than to be quagmired in doubt. Thank you, sir." She led him out the door numbly, shutting it behind him.

She walked through her empty shop, a reflection of her empty life, and thought about the last several years. She'd taken over this shop because it was either that or sell it. She'd supported her husband because he couldn't fend for himself. She'd raised their daughter and could realize that Hannah's father was more of an influence than she was, which might explain why the girl was getting such bad grades and only caring for what boys and parties she could attend.

Catherine walked into her office, shutting the door behind her, trying to forget everything. Very soon, it would be all over.

Billy Collins was very late. It wasn't his fault that he'd gotten four deliveries within thirty minutes of close, but he hoped Mrs. De Bourgh wouldn't be upset with the fact that he was so late getting back. He'd hurried as quickly as he could on his bicycle, after all.

Billy opened the door to De Bourghs', calling, "Good even--" He stopped when he realized that no one was in there.

While he was pondering where everyone had gone, the phone rang. No one being around to answer it, Billy picked it up. "Hello?"

"Is Billy there?" It was the annoyed voice of Mr. de Bourgh.

Billy almost groaned. He was supposed to stop by Jabot's before he'd come back to the shop to pick up Mr. de Bourgh's favorite cologne, and he'd forgotten. He quickly raised his voice and said, "No, Mr. de Bourgh, this is Miss Price speaking."

"He forgot my cologne, and I need it tonight."

"He did? Oh, that's too bad. I tell you what. When I see him tomorrow, I'll give a good scolding to the little rascal, all right?"

"I suppose so, but make sure he gets it to me first thing in the morning. I'll simply have to do without."

"Okay. Good night!" Billy hung up before Mr. de Bourgh could continue, rolling his eyes at the phone. It was at times like these that he could understand why Mrs. De Bourgh had had to take over the shop rather than her husband, because he was such an idiot he couldn't get his own damn cologne.

Billy was still curious to know where everyone was. He checked in the employees' room, but all the coats were gone. Yet someone had to be there, because the door was unlocked. Perhaps they were in Mrs. De Bourgh's office.

Billy walked over to the door and slowly opened it without knocking first. What he saw there shocked him.

Catherine de Bourgh was standing by her desk, holding a Derringer to her temple and looking like she was about to pull the trigger.

"Mrs. De Bourgh! Don't do that! Mrs. De Bourgh!" Billy screamed, reaching for the gun.

"Go away! Go away!" she shouted.

A gunshot rang out.

Showdown

Posted on Thursday, 4 February 1999

Elizabeth had returned home five minutes after Charlie called her landlady. While she waited for him to arrive, she decided to write her friend a note and leave it at the cafe. Perhaps, if she said she was sick, or if a family emergency had come up, he would forgive her for not meeting with him this time, and she could delay it a bit longer.

She wrote a hasty note and put it in an envelope. When Charlie arrived, she told him of her plan and the two of them headed to Bleeker's Cafe.

"I can't go in there," Elizabeth said when they arrived at the front door. "I don't think I can face him."

"If you want, Lisa, I'll deliver the note to the waiter," Charlie said. "Or better yet, I can give it to him directly. That way you get to know what he looks like."

"That's not a bad idea...I just don't know whether or not I want to know what he looks like."

"Why?"

"Because if he's unattractive, I've had enough bad news today. And if he's good looking, then what chance would I have had anyway? The likelihood is that he's not all that handsome, for who else would put a personal ad in the paper if he could meet a woman any other way?"

"Perhaps he was shy. Or perhaps he wanted to get to know a woman before getting to look at her. Take Jane and I, for example. To see us together, you might think that we were superficial because we're attractive. You happen to know, however, that we have deep feelings and interests. Or perhaps he's a wealthy man who wanted a woman to fall in love with something other than his bank account."

"Much as that might thrill my mother, wealthy men are few and far between these days. Do me a favor and look inside. See if you can see him. He said he would be wearing a carnation in the lapel of his jacket."

"All right, all right..." Charlie looked inside. He could see quite a few people from the window. "He'll be alone, of course...hey, here's one."

"Is he handsome?"

"Very handsome...but no carnation."

"Then he's not the one."

"Perhaps he threw his flower away as you did. Say, what if you decide to meet this man? How are you going to prove that it's you when you threw away your flower?"

"I told you already, I'm not going to meet him. I can't, not tonight anyway. Not until I've found another job."

"Wait a minute, wait...there's a man in the window...and he's wearing a carnation."

"He is?" Elizabeth's interest was immediately piqued.

"Uh-huh. He's having a cup of coffee and eating a piece of cake...and he's reading...well, I can't see the title from here. But that's definitely a carnation in his jacket lapel."

"Can you see his face?"

"No, not yet. The stupid coat rack's in the way, and it looks like he's a rather tall man or else I might be able to see him."

"Well that's a relief."

"He's taking his cake...Elizabeth, he's dunking."

"Why shouldn't he dunk? There's nothing wrong with that. I do it myself."

"I didn't say there was anything wrong with it...wait! He's leaning over the plate! He's..." Charlie's voice trailed off. Elizabeth looked at Charlie's profile and knew instantly that he was a bit shocked by what he'd seen.

Which was completely confusing. "What is it?" she asked, concerned. "Did you see his face?"

"Yes, I did."

"Is...is he handsome?" Elizabeth feared for the answer either way. Maybe she'd get lucky and he'd be average.

"I'm no judge on a man's attractiveness, but I suppose that if I were a woman, I would consider him a handsome man."

"Would I consider him handsome?"

"I don't know how to answer your question...because I'd have to say he looks a bit like...that he has the coloring of...er, well, of Liam."

"Liam? Liam Darcy, from the shop?" Elizabeth's nose wrinkled in distaste.

Charlie sighed. "Now Lisa, Liam isn't all that bad of a man. He's a fairly decent sort, and for someone who used to have the money he had, he's making the best of his situation. And even you have admitted once or twice to Jane that you thought him to be a little handsome."

"I stopped thinking that a long time ago, and as for his situation, as you call it, it's entirely of his own making and I feel no sympathy." Elizabeth sighed in disgust. "Fine time to be bringing up Mr. Darcy."

"Well, if you don't like Mr. Darcy, you aren't going to like the man in there."

"Why not?"

"Because it is Mr. Darcy."

"What?!" Elizabeth pushed Charlie aside and looked in the window herself. Sure enough, sitting right in front of the window, reading a book, eating cake and drinking coffee...and wearing a carnation...was Fitzwilliam Darcy. "Oh God...this can't be happening, it really can't be."

Charlie looked at the stricken young woman. "Do you want me to give this note to the waiter now?"

"Absolutely not!" Elizabeth ripped the note out of his hands. "I'm not letting him know who I am."

"You mean you're going to let him sit in there and wait for you?"

"Why shouldn't Mr. Darcy wait? He's made my life miserable for the past six months and now he's cost me my job. Caroline Wickham told me everything he did to her, and I can't believe that I didn't see who he was from the first."

"I don't think I would form my opinion of anyone based on the report of Caroline Wickham...and I think you'd better remember something."

"What?"

"That he's the one who's been writing those letters, My dear friend."

Elizabeth again looked in the window. Liam was looking at his watch and then looking at what was likely a clock on the far wall. It was just after eight o'clock. "My misfortune," she said quietly. "Look, Charlie, I know that you don't think I should be alone tonight, but I'll be fine. You should go home and be with Jane and the baby."

"I told Jane that I would bring you home--"

"There are a couple things I have to do first...then I'll be over. Okay?"

Charlie noticed that she was glancing at the lone man sitting in front of the window and smiled. He knew Elizabeth. She was going to go in there. "I understand. If it's too late by the time you get finished with your errands, don't worry about coming to our place. Just come by in the morning."

"Thank you, Charlie. You're a dear friend. I only wish...well, it doesn't matter what I wish now. Good night."

"Good night, Lisa." Charlie left, a small smile on his face. Surely things would work out for the best between Elizabeth and Liam Darcy. He could just sense it.

Liam looked again at his watch. It was just after eight, and already he was fearing that she might not show. From her letters he got the sense that she was a punctual person.

Perhaps something happened at her own job, just as happened at yours. Perhaps she's having to work late. But if that were true, surely she would've left a note for you.

A pretty young woman from a large table close to him walked over and asked, "Would it be possible for us to have this chair?"

"No!" he exclaimed loudly. "I'm sorry, madam, I didn't mean to shout. I'm meeting someone here, and she should be here any moment."

"Oh, I understand." The woman glanced at his lapel. "Carnations?"

"Yeah."

"My husband and I used roses when we first met. It was very romantic, let me tell you, getting to know someone without knowing who they were. It was freeing. Then when we met, it was so wonderful that I couldn't help feeling that God had wanted me to do something out of the ordinary."

Liam smiled. "I hope that's a good omen."

"Well, unfortunately, that doesn't work for everyone. My sister had a friend who did the same thing I did, and they were going to use gardenias...but he never showed. I heard her say later that she'd stayed until close, and what did they find but another gardenia crumbled up under another table. He'd seen her, not liked what he saw, and left."

"I'm not concerned. I'm certain my friend will show up," Liam said with a confidence he no longer felt.

"If she doesn't, I'll have my sister's friend find a carnation and meet you. Good luck." The young woman walked away.

Liam glanced at his watch again and just missed seeing Elizabeth Bennet looking at him through the window. She sighed, then walked into the cafe. She slowly approached his table, wondering how she was going to explain her presence when she had no intention of revealing her identity.

"Good evening, Mr. Darcy," she said politely as she passed his table.

"Miss Bennet," Liam said with a small frown. "What are you doing here this evening?"

"I'm supposed to be meeting Charlie and Jane here. I don't suppose you've seen them anywhere, have you?"

"No."

"Would you mind greatly if I sat here with you? The cafe's getting full, and I don't like the idea of taking a table when someone else might need it."

"As a matter of fact, Miss Bennet, I do mind a great deal. I'm expecting someone, and she should be here any minute."

"Oh, I see." Elizabeth glanced at the book he was reading...The Mayor of Castorbridge. "Thomas Hardy?"

Liam was puzzled until he realized that she was looking at the book he was reading. "Oh...yes."

"Is it any good?"

"It is, but I don't imagine you've ever read it."

"As a matter of fact, I haven't. Perhaps I might, if you think it's a good book."

"Is there a point to this?"

"Not really. I just didn't expect to run into you in a cafe with Hardy, that's all. I thought you had a date."

"I do have a date! It's just that I arrived early and had carried this to work with me anyway. I didn't have time to run home and set it down before coming here."

"Well, in the event that your date doesn't show up--"

"She'll be here, Miss Bennet. You don't have to worry about me."

"All right." Elizabeth started to walk away from his table, but instead she sat in the chair directly behind his.

Liam buried his head in his book, trying not to look at his watch every fifteen seconds.

Elizabeth decided to try again. "Have you read Zola's Madame Bovary?"

Without thinking, Liam said, "Madame Bovary is not by Zola." Then he realized who had spoken. "Miss Bennet, are you still here?"

"Yes, I am. I told you, I'm waiting for Charlie and Jane. Why would that change because you're here waiting for someone?"

"I figured you would want to stay as far away from me as possible, if for no other reason than my being able to tell you who has written the great works of literature."

"For your information, Mr. Darcy, I have read Madame Bovary and know quite well that it was written by Flaubert. I've also read the entire works of Jane Austen, Shakespeare, and I'm currently working my way through Dickens and Tolstoy. Have you read Anna Karenina?"

"No."

"I have. It's a magnificent book, you should read it."

"I hardly think I need your advice as to what I should be reading."

"I suppose you don't. I'll bet you think that I read nothing but those dreadful novels that are churned out all the time, and that I do nothing but sit at home listening to the soap operas on the radio."

"I'm sure you don't do that all the time."

"In fact, I'm willing to bet that there are a lot of things you don't know about me, Mr. Darcy...just as there are things I don't know about you. I've come to the realization that a lot of the time we don't bother to scratch the surface of things to discover what's underneath."

"Miss Bennet, I somehow don't think I'd want to take the time to scratch beneath your surface, because I know exactly what I'd find. Instead of your soul, I'd find a suitcase. Instead of your heart, I'd find a handbag. And instead of intellect, I'd find a cigarette lighter...which doesn't work. So as you can see, it wouldn't be worth my time."

Elizabeth felt her temper rising and managed to squelch it. She reminded herself that Charlie was right, she shouldn't base her opinion on Caroline's word, especially since she'd had her doubts about the story...and that this man had written those lovely letters to her. "An interesting illustration, sir. Comparing my intellect to a broken cigarette lighter. I suppose it's what I should expect from you, a combination of imagination and mean-spiritedness."

"Mean-spiritedness?" Liam exclaimed. "If you want to talk about being mean-spirited--"

Elizabeth moved from her table to the empty chair at his. "Hey, you're the one who started this whole thing by trying to convince Catherine de Bourgh I was a thief--behind my back, I might add."

"Miss Bennet, please! I told you that I was expecting someone." Liam tried to shoo her from the chair with no success.

"Perhaps you are, but there's something I want to tell you first. You see, I know who you are, Fitzwilliam Darcy. You're the one who managed to lose me my job!"

"I realize you're bitter because you've been fired, and I'm trying to take that into account. I had nothing to do with it, because as I told you, I wouldn't have wished this on anyone but the person who..." Liam broke off. He would gladly wish this on George Wickham, and even worse, but he wasn't about to tell this woman about that.

"Bitter? Me? I'm not bitter. I got home and made a few calls, and before I knew it I practically had the owner of Hirsch and Company begging me to join his staff." A bluff, but he didn't need to know that.

"Then I'm happy for you and I wish you every success. I don't think Hirsch and Company is right for you, but--"

"Of course you wouldn't. Would you like to try and ruin my reputation there while you're at it? You did it quite nicely at De Bourghs'."

"I did nothing to ruin your reputation at De Bourghs'. Whatever caused you to be fired is between you and Catherine, and I had nothing to do with it. Now would you please go away?"

Elizabeth would have to reread his letters to decide whether or not she was going to believe him when he said that. He mentioned work quite often, as had she, and she was certain he'd only mentioned her a few times.

Only he hadn't known he was talking about her, and she hadn't known she was talking about him.

What a fine mess this is. Perhaps it's best to leave everything alone. I won't want to talk to him after this anyway.

"There are a few things I want to say to you before I go. First of all, I didn't appreciate the jokes and imitations you gave of me in the locker room. I want you to know that although I might be an unnatural woman, I'm still a woman. I have wants and needs just like any other. How would you like it if I'd made fun of you in the locker room?"

"That's exactly what you did!" Liam hissed. "You called me 'his Highness' behind my back."

"That's because of your attitude. You know, Mr. Darcy, you might have beautiful thoughts in that head of yours, but you certainly hide them well. You're cold and unfeeling, and arrogant. You're going to have a hard time finding a woman who's willing to put up with you, and I feel sorry for you because of it."

Liam laughed. "Cold, unfeeling, and arrogant? You think I'm going to have a hard time finding someone to love? You're very amusing, Miss Bennet. I could show you letters that would prove you so wrong it would embarrass you to realize it."

I should know. I wrote them, and I'm embarrassed enough about that.

"Actually, that probably wouldn't be a good idea. These letters were written by a woman whose mind is so far superior to yours that you wouldn't understand them. I have to laugh when you say you're sorry for me. You...you insignificant, unemployed salesgirl."

Elizabeth froze. So this is who had been writing those wonderful letters to her all along...this cold, sarcastic man. A man who could offend without thinking twice about it, who could say things and not care what the person who heard them felt.

What else could I have expected from this day? I've been fired, humiliated...why was I surprised to discover that the man who was writing to me all this time is this brute? Good thing I didn't tell him who I was, because I don't think I could've borne it.

She stood up slowly, looking at him coldly. "Good-bye, Mr. Darcy."

"Good-bye, Miss Bennet." Liam had clearly forgotten that she'd said she was meeting Charlie and Jane, for he merely looked at his watch again and didn't bother to look up as she left.

Elizabeth made her way home from the cafe, half expecting to be robbed. It would certainly be a fitting end to her day, and she certainly had enough money to make it worth any would-be thief's while.

She reached her apartment building in safety. As she opened the door, she noticed her landlady's door was open and she frowned. "Mrs. Younge?" she called.

"Miss Bennet...is that you?"

"It is."

"I have a telephone message for you. I do wish your callers would be more considerate than to call when I was settling down for the evening, and that you'd come home at a decent hour."

Elizabeth sighed. It couldn't be more than nine o'clock or so, but her landlady went to sleep early so she felt the need to apologize.

Mrs. Younge smiled. "It's all right, dear. You're hardly any bother most of the time, so I suppose I can tolerate it this once."

"Who was my message from?"

"A Billy Collins."

"Billy Collins? How on earth did he get this number?" Elizabeth was furious, for she had a sneaking suspicion that she knew how he'd gotten that number, and the next time she saw her mother she'd shoot her.

"I didn't ask him that, Miss Bennet. But he did say that his message was urgent. He said that a Mrs. De Bourgh had had some sort of collapse and was at Bellvue Hospital...and that she wished to speak to you as soon as you could get there."

Elizabeth's eyes widened. "Mrs. Younge, are you positive that he said it was Mrs. De Bourgh who wanted to speak to me?"

"Yes, dear, it was. Why?"

Elizabeth then thought of the rest of the message. She'd had a collapse...dear Lord, Catherine de Bourgh was too young to have a heart attack, wasn't she?

"Thank you, Mrs. Younge. I appreciate your diligence in this matter. Would it be possible for me to call for a taxi?"

"Of course, dear."

Elizabeth hurriedly called the taxi service, praying they would arrive quickly. If she was right, there was every chance that her day might be salvaged after all.

Forgiveness

Posted on Thursday, 4 February 1999

Billy Collins paced back and forth in the hallway outside of Catherine de Bourgh's hospital room. He kept trying to block the terrible images from his mind, kept trying not to think of what might've happened had he not arrived in time.

Mrs. De Bourgh, with the gun drawn to her own head, about to pull the trigger...

Thank God he'd arrived in time! He'd managed to wrestle the gun from her head. When it went off, it did nothing more than hit a picture of her husband which had been hanging on the wall. Billy had taken the gun from her limp hand and set it far away from her, then come back inside to ask her why she'd done it.

Although she undoubtedly would've been mortified to realize it, she'd poured out the entire story of Caroline and Alfred, and her guilt over firing Elizabeth, to Billy. Billy asked her if she thought she would benefit from a stay at the hospital, which she agreed to.

Now he was waiting for the doctor to come out, for the moment he did, Billy intended to pounce.

The door slowly opened, and a man of about sixty walked out, sighed, and looked at Billy.

"Well, doctor? Is she having a nervous breakdown?"

"It appears to me that she's suffering from a great deal of melancholia, triggered by an acute manifestation of fear, insecurity, and doubt."

Billy frowned. "I suppose finding out that your husband was sneaking around with one of your employees would do that to you. Is...all that you mentioned going to cost more than a nervous breakdown and keep her out of the shop for long?"

The doctor frowned. "Tell me, Mr. Collins, what exactly do you do for De Bourghs'?"

Billy flushed red. "Well, sir, I guess you could say I'm a contact man. I keep contact between De Bourghs' and the customers...on a bicycle."

"You mean you're an errand boy?"

The scoffing tone offended Billy. "Doctor, did I call you a pill peddler?"

The doctor supposed that Billy had a point, and said, "You did a great deed today, young man. You should be proud of yourself."

"Thank you," Billy said, flushing again.

The doctor headed down the hall to see another patient, and Billy almost went into Mrs. De Bourgh's room to see how she was for himself when the doors opened and he spied Elizabeth Bennet walking toward him in determined fashion.

"Miss Bennet! Thank goodness you're here." Billy rushed to her.

"I got here as soon as I could, Billy."

"Thank you for your swiftness. I knew you wouldn't let me down."

"Is it serious? Did she have a heart attack?"

"No, it wasn't a heart attack, although what did happen came as a bit of a shock. Well, I'll just have to get over it in my own time."

Elizabeth looked at Billy with a frown. "I'm sure it was fairly traumatic for Mrs. De Bourgh as well. What happened?"

Billy sighed. "She tried to kill herself."

Elizabeth gaped. "No."

"Yes. Turns out that Mr. de Bourgh is having a thing with Caroline Wickham. Mrs. De Bourgh just found out tonight."

Elizabeth's mind figured out the rest without being told--that Mrs. De Bourgh had assumed it was her having an affair with Alfred de Bourgh. The mere thought made her shiver, and she couldn't figure out why she'd thought it at all...but she supposed she'd get a chance to ask.

"Is it all right for me to go in there?" she asked.

"Sure. Mrs. De Bourgh asked to see you specifically."

Elizabeth nodded and said, "Thank you, Billy. For everything." She then went inside the hospital room.

Mrs. De Bourgh was laying on the bed, looking sad. When she saw Elizabeth, her sadness seemed to fade somewhat and she smiled warmly at her. "Hello, Elizabeth."

"Mrs. De Bourgh. I came as soon as I got Billy's message."

"Please...come sit over here." Catherine pointed to the chair next to her bed. "There's a great deal that I have to apologize for, and it might take a while."

Elizabeth smiled as she sat down. "Don't worry about all that, Mrs. De Bourgh. Just concentrate on getting well."

"I won't be able to do that until I apologize to you for everything I did and said today...and in the past several weeks as well. It shames me to think of how much I hated you...how I treated you...dear Lord, Elizabeth, I fired you!"

"Yes, I remember." Elizabeth's eyes were gleaming as though it had been nothing more than a joke, but she did understand the seriousness of what Mrs. De Bourgh was saying. "Mrs. De Bourgh...Billy told me what happened. Why did you think I was having an affair with your husband?"

Catherine sighed. "I was wondering when you'd get to that. I should've guessed it would be your first question."

"I try to be direct whenever possible. If you'd rather not talk about it--"

"No, it needs to be said. I don't remember exactly when the first letter arrived...some time this summer or early fall, I think. It only suggested that my husband was having a secret rendezvous with someone, but didn't say who. The second letter said that the writer knew the woman and she worked in my shop. Elizabeth, you were the only employee, other than Liam, that I'd invited to my home."

"But I never showed any particular kindness to your husband. Come to think of it, I was undoubtedly rude to him."

"He asked about you often. I remembered that as well. Whenever Billy was unavailable to deliver a package, he wanted you to do it. You were always so busy that I would send Caroline...but I didn't remember that part. I only remembered that he would ask for you...and the pieces started adding up. When that poison gets into your mind, it's the only thing you think about...and it affected our working relationship. It got to where I couldn't even stand the sight of you."

The confession would've hurt Elizabeth greatly had it not been for the fact that she knew the cause. "Did you ever find out who was writing the letters?"

"No, I didn't. I figured it had to be a neighbor, or a jealous shop owner...it didn't matter, really. What mattered was that they proved to be right. Alfred was..."

"You don't have to talk about that with me."

"Elizabeth...please tell me that you forgive me, for everything."

"Don't even worry about that, Mrs. De Bourgh. There's nothing to forgive, really. Now that everything's been explained, I'm not upset. Not too much, anyway, and the part I am upset with isn't your fault." Elizabeth hesitated to ask the next question, but it was necessary. "Mrs. De Bourgh, what happens to the shop now?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Would you even consider...after everything I did...would you want to come back to work for me?"

Elizabeth beamed. "Of course I would! Where else could I go and have as good a boss as you?"

"I was afraid that you might've been calling around to hear your other options...I know that Mr. Hirsch would love to have you on his staff, for he told me so."

"I wouldn't work for that opinionated man if he paid me twice what you did, but...well, I guess I am going to pry. When I asked about what happens to the store, I didn't mean my future there in particular, but about the store's in general. Are you...er, are you planning to...stay with Mr. de Bourgh?"

Catherine turned her head away from the young woman, thinking for a moment before answering. "I don't think I will. But whether or not I remain with him, nothing will change at the store. I own it outright."

"What? I thought that it was his, and you just ran it."

"No. Shortly after the Depression hit, and I decided I wanted to run the shop, I bought it from Alfred. He didn't think it would make anything, and it made him feel like he was indulging me to let me buy it from him. I insisted on buying it with the money I had received from my great-aunt. So as you see, no matter what happens to me personally, the store remains in my hands."

Elizabeth's admiration for this woman grew, even as she felt sorry for her marital situation.

"The doctor has told me that I need to take some time off. And if I do come back to work, it should only be on a casual basis. Elizabeth, I told you some months back that when I did that, I would let you take over the shop."

Elizabeth was holding her breath for fear of waking from what surely had to be a dream. Although she would not have wished to become manager of the shop for this reason, it was what she'd wanted so badly...

"I would be honored, Mrs. De Bourgh."

"I had a feeling you would say that. Here is the key to my shop." Catherine extended the small key ring, three keys jingling on it. Elizabeth took the gift with trembling hands and said, "Thank you."

Shoving the keys into her coat pocket, Elizabeth extended a hand for Catherine to shake. The two women looked at each other with mutual affection, acknowledging the occasion...and the two promptly started laughing. Catherine felt much better for it.

"You know, Elizabeth, now that you're the manager of the store, if you wanted to give yourself a raise..."

Elizabeth grinned. "I'm going to seriously consider it. If I don't ask myself for too much money, I just might give it to myself. Thank you...and don't worry. You stay here and relax, and leave the store to me. We're going to have the best year in our history."

"I'm sure we will. Elizabeth, there's just one more thing before you go."

"Yes?"

"You may not like this, but I would...I don't think you should fire Billy first thing tomorrow morning, much as you might not like him."

"I might've considered it once, ma'am, but not anymore. As long as he's not bothering me, he's not so bad. Besides, everyone owes him a great deal." Elizabeth got up from her chair and started to leave, but then stopped. "Um, Mrs. De Bourgh? I do have a question."

"Yes?"

"What exactly should I do about Caroline?"

"Well...handle the matter quietly. Don't make a scene and stoop to her level."

"I won't. Thank you again, Mrs. De Bourgh."

"You're quite welcome, and Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth paused to take one last look at her employer.

"Thank you as well."

Elizabeth smiled and opened the door, where she promptly ran into Billy.

"Congratulations, Miss Bennet! Good to have you back!" He shook her hand enthusiastically, then rushed into Mrs. De Bourgh's room.

Elizabeth was in too much of a daze to care that Billy had been listening all along.

I did it! I am now the manager of the store! Elizabeth Bennet, Manager, De Bourghs'. Ooh, this is beyond anything I ever thought would happen!

Elizabeth thought about Liam Darcy, who was undoubtedly still waiting at the cafe for her to arrive, not realizing that she already had. She smiled again. What was it he'd called her? An insignificant, unemployed salesgirl?

Well, the little insignificant salesgirl had just become the manager of the store he worked in.

See how he liked that.

It's In the Mail

Posted on Thursday, 4 February 1999

Liam returned home at ten-thirty dejected, frustrated, and depressed. He couldn't understand what had happened. He'd waited until the stupid cafe had closed, just to see if maybe there was another carnation crumbled underneath one of the other tables, but the cleaning crew had found nothing. She'd never shown at all.

How could I have been so wrong about her? he wondered. I thought she was so wonderful and right. I thought she would surely show up, at the very least! She never set foot in there, unless she threw the flower in the garbage.

At only one other point in his life had Liam felt so lonely, and that was right after Gina had died and his family had disowned him. Only this ache was worse, because he'd been through that wretched time in his life and had sworn never to open himself up to another person as he had to Gina. Now that he had, and had been rejected again...

Liam looked at his apartment. Perhaps it was just as well that she hadn't shown. After all, what could he possibly offer her? He had no money. He lived in this hovel in a bad part of the city. Many people in his former circle of acquaintances considered him to be partially responsible for the death of his sister, including his parents. All he had was himself, and that wasn't worth much.

But he'd hoped it would be. He'd thought this woman wouldn't care about money or his name or what he'd done. Now it turned out that she hadn't cared at all.

At the very least, she could've left a note.

Liam sighed and sat down at his kitchen table. It was cheap and cheaply put together, but it was his, at least.

It was then that he spied a small envelope laying underneath the table. He reached under and picked it up, frowning.

It was a letter to his so-called Dear Friend. It was lighter than the one he'd sent that morning. Liam was puzzled, because he couldn't figure out when he'd written this one, or why he hadn't sent it. He opened it quickly.

Dear Friend,

By the time this letter reaches you, we will have met. I wonder so much how well it will go between us. I have every confidence that things will work out perfectly, and yet as I sit here, in the wee hours of the morning, writing this letter because I cannot sleep, I worry that something will go wrong.

And I wonder what you look like. Are your eyes blue, or are they green or gray? Is your hair brown or red? Does your smile light up a room? I suspect that it might, considering that you have a good sense of humor. Are you tall or short? I rather hope you're tall, because I'm rather tall, but you don't have to be. As long as you are you, and you're at the cafe tonight, I won't care about anything else.

The letter continued on in such a vein. It was the letter he'd written the night before.

Liam frowned. He knew that he'd sent his friend a letter this morning. He knew it, because he'd made sure of the address. He'd been so nervous that he'd written the wrong one on the envelope. But if the letter he'd written last night was here, in his hands, then what had he sent her? A check?

No, the envelope had been too thick for a check.

But if not, then...

Liam felt the blood drain from his face. Dear God, please let it be anything but that! Please don't say that I sent her THAT letter!

Liam immediately began his search through all his bills, papers, old letters, and anything else that might hide a letter. Before he was finished, everything he owned was out of place and he'd gone through it twice. He couldn't find that letter anywhere.

With a low moan, Liam realized what he'd known since the moment the thought had entered his mind. He'd sent that letter to her. He'd poured his horrid secret out to a complete stranger, and clearly one who didn't care. She was only using him for sport, and now she had a lovely little tale to tell her friends about him.

Elizabeth awakened early that morning. She'd hardly slept at all, but it didn't matter much to her. She was too excited at the prospect of seeing everyone at the shop again, except for Caroline and Liam, and at the idea of going into that shop as the manager.

Elizbeth Bennet, Manager, De Bourghs'. It had a lovely ring to it.

The only bad thought was that she would have to work with Liam and have to figure out a way to get rid of Caroline. Still, she could handle it.

Elizabeth decided that since she had extra time, as she'd left her apartment at seven-thirty and the shop didn't open until nine, that she would stop by the post office to turn in her key. She'd only been using that post office box for her correspondence with Liam Darcy, and as she had no intention of ever writing him again, she didn't need the box anymore.

She was about to turn her key over when she noticed that someone was stuffing mail into the boxes, and it looked as though he'd put something in hers. She was a bit curious about what it might be, so she took the key and opened her box. A thick envelope was sitting there, staring at her accusingly.

Elizabeth knew that there was no way it could possibly be from Liam about last night, because the mail didn't run that fast. She wasn't even sure she wanted to hear what he had to say anyway, but she decided that she might as well read it. It would be the last of such letters, since she intended to write him and say that she'd changed her mind about wanting to get to know him in person. Or maybe she'd just stop writing altogether.

Either way, she didn't want him knowing it had been her writing to him all these months.

She opened the letter and read it in the post office as eagerly as she'd read all her others, curious to hear what he had to say.

Dear Friend,

The letter you undoubtedly received today told you that I would someday tell you of the monster I faced. I felt guilty about not telling you the truth, since perhaps my experience would be helpful to you. We have exchanged a great deal in the past few weeks, and I feel I can trust you with the truth of what happened to me.

Elizabeth frowned. She hadn't received a letter, other than this one. She then noticed the date--it was dated back in late May, when she'd first discovered the truth about him from Caroline. She read on, curious to hear what he had to tell her.

As she read the letter, her expressions changed from those of disbelief to shock to horror. She had absolutely no reason now to believe that Liam had lied about anything he'd written in the letter. After all, he'd had no idea who she was at the time and still didn't.

And everything he'd written contradicted Caroline's story. The truth, now, about the girl Caroline had called her sister. The girl who had allowed herself to be used by such a man, who remained unnamed but surely had to be Caroline's brother George. The girl who may or may not have killed Liam's poor sister.

Why? Why did Caroline lie to me? What motive did she have when she did it? Elizabeth pondered over this for a while before thinking that the only possible motive was to cause trouble between Elizabeth and Mrs. De Bourgh. If Elizabeth didn't get along with Liam, it would filter up. Or at least, she supposed that had been Caroline's thinking. She had very little experience with truly evil people. Not enough to figure out what the real reason was.

Elizabeth felt guilty when she read the next part of the letter.

One of the young women I work with said I needed a lesson in humility. Perhaps, in some ways, she is right. Old habits are hard to break, even for someone who has gone through as much as I have....

The last part of his letter nearly broke her heart.

I still grieve for my sister, and deep in my heart, I pray that someday she walks into my apartment, looks around, and says, "What are you doing in a dump like this?" I know she would be able to vindicate me in all this. But she is dead. I know that now.

I tell you this tale because I have a feeling your monster may be as horrifying as mine, and the only advice I have to give is that eventually there is some form of escape. Your monster won't be there forever, just as mine is no longer a part of my life.

I hope this helps a little.

This, then, was the man she'd rejected last night. Granted, he'd been mean to her and she doubted that the revelation of her identity would've changed that. But now that she looked over her own behavior of the past six months, she felt greatly ashamed by it. She hadn't been nice to him. Even though he'd started most of it, including the imitations of her, she hadn't needed to do the same just to get even.

That smacked of childishness, and here she'd just been made manager of the shop.

But the man she knew from his letters, the man whose sister had been murdered out of another man's spite, because his greed hadn't been satisfied...was the same man who had said all those terrible things.

It was so confusing that Elizabeth didn't think she wanted to work through it all, yet she knew at some point she would have to.

"Miss? Would you still like to return your key?" the man behind the desk asked.

Elizabeth looked up from her letter and sighed. "No," she said quietly. "I've changed my mind, but thanks anyway."

She left the post office, rereading her letter on her way to work for the day.

Justice

Posted on Monday, 8 February 1999

Elizabeth was the first to arrive, which greatly relieved her as she took the time alone to reread her letter. She was reading it for the fifth time when she heard a familiar voice exclaim, "Lisa!"

Elizabeth looked up to see Charlie rushing up the street. "Good morning, Charlie," she said with a smile, remembering that she hadn't bothered to tell him she'd gotten her job back.

"What are you doing here? I thought you said that you weren't going to beg for your job back."

"I'm not here to beg for my job back. That turned out to be unnecessary."

Charlie frowned. "Then what..." Elizabeth dangled the keys to the store in front of his nose, and his eyes widened to the size of saucers. "She gave you your job back and made you the manager?"

"That she did, Charlie! Isn't it wonderful! I think I'll give you a raise, just a little something so that you and Jane are able to spoil Jamie rotten."

"But--but yesterday--"

"That is all forgot! I...talked to Mrs. De Bourgh last night. We worked things out, and she hired me back and made me the manager."

"Why?"

Elizabeth hesitated. Charlie was one of her closest friends, but she doubted that Mrs. De Bourgh would wish for her to go blabbing to the rest of the employees, even Charlie, that she'd attempted to kill herself last night because her husband was having an affair. But it explained the treatment she'd received over the past several weeks, and why she'd been rehired so quickly.

"Well..." She might as well tell him this part at least, for there would be no hiding it. "She's in the hospital, Charlie. She hasn't been feeling well for the past couple of months, and the doctors are ordering her to take it slow. She asked me to see her last night and asked if I would take over for her."

"Is this a permanent thing, or just until she's better?"

"It's permanent."

"But--"

Elizabeth was saved from more probing questions by the arrival of Charlotte and Susan, who were giggling as usual over some such nonsense. Charlotte was saying, "He wants to go out again, but I don't think I shall! My mother would die of shame were I to marry a delivery boy while being a clerk myself!"

"I think she would more likely be furious by the fact that you would no longer be supporting her and your father were you to marry. Still, Charlotte, I don't think you would want to marry Billy. I mean, could you truly picture yourself with him for the rest of your life?"

"Good morning, ladies," Charlie said, tipping his hat to them.

"Good morning, Mr. Bingley," Charlotte said politely. The conversation she was having with Susan ended abruptly when she noticed Elizabeth standing there, still holding the keys in her hand. Elizabeth again explained to them that Mrs. De Bourgh wasn't well and that she'd asked her to take over the store. Charlie again tried to ask about why Mrs. De Bourgh had been so furious with Elizabeth, but she put him off again. She talked business with Charlotte, asking what the day before's sales were, asking whether or not they'd finished the window after she'd left, and hearing a couple of suggestions on what they could possibly do with all those silly cigarette boxes left over from May.

Elizabeth was beginning to wonder where Liam was when a taxi approached the store and stopped. No one leaped to open the door, and thus a rather disgruntled Caroline Wickham had to open her own door and get out of the car. She paid the driver with a nice tip and rather deliberately wrung her hands at the total, making sure that everyone in the group standing by the store's doors saw the gaudy diamond on her hand. She looked up expecting to see envy in their eyes at the money she had and the jewelry she was flashing, but no one had taken note and her good mood vanished when she saw the tallest member of the group.

Elizabeth had known it was Caroline in the cab before it had stopped, and her eyes, which had been warm and cheerful as she'd accepted everyone's happiness at her return and congratulations on her promotion, turned cold. The smile did not fade from her face, and she didn't by any word or gesture indicate her true feelings, but anyone looking into her dark eyes could see her fury and dislike of the young woman who had just arrived.

"Why...Miss Bennet! It's so good to see you here," she said with a false smile. She didn't notice the keys sitting in Elizabeth's hand. "I take it you're here to ask for your old job back."

"No, Miss Wickham, I'm not here for my old job."

"Just as well, since I've heard talk that Liam Darcy is likely to be made manager soon. Of course, it's more than likely that he's to take your place for now, since you're gone, then be promoted." Caroline smiled cattily. "And I doubt you would be willing to work for him, even if Catherine de Bourgh were to be foolish enough to allow you to get your job back. I dare say you lost it because you were too outspoken. If you'd been like me, you'd still have a job."

"As it turns out, Miss Wickham, I have a job. And I didn't have to resort to any of your tactics to get it."

"Oh? Where are you working now, if I may ask? Not that I really care, I'm just curious."

"I think you'll be interested to hear the answer. I work for De Bourghs'."

There were a few laughs from the small group circling Elizabeth. They were enjoying Caroline being taken down a peg, since she'd said several times after Elizabeth's departure the night before that she'd never liked Miss Bennet and knew that her firing was an eventuality.

Caroline blinked. "Y-you do?"

"Yes. In fact, I not only work for De Bourghs', I'm the manager now. And my first official act as the manager is to...open the doors for business." Elizabeth unlocked the gate, and then the door. Charlie opened it up for her amid the laughter and talk of the other excited employees. Caroline was left behind, and she quickly walked into the store before Charlie got up the gumption to shut it in her face.

Elizabeth Bennet, back at De Bourghs'? Elizabeth Bennet, now the manager and in charge of everything? Something was seriously wrong with this matter. Yesterday Catherine de Bourgh had hated Elizabeth enough that she'd fired her, for whatever peculiar reason she'd had. Now, suddenly, she'd changed her mind?

Alfred had called that morning, saying that Catherine hadn't come home last night and he was a bit concerned. She'd been hostile to him lately, he'd said, and he wondered if Caroline had accidentally mentioned their relationship to her.

Now Caroline wondered if maybe Elizabeth Bennet wasn't behind Catherine's disappearance. Wasn't her father connected to the mob in some way? She seemed to think that Charlie had said something once.

Caroline decided that when she went to Alfred during her lunch break, she'd mention the possibility to him.

Billy Collins had gotten up nearly as early as his new boss, because he needed a new suit. His other suit had been designed with comfort in mind, because he'd needed as much comfort as he could get on that stupid bicycle. But thank God, the bicycle and his delivery days were behind him!

He was now a clerk.

True, he'd had to badger Catherine de Bourgh with pleas before she'd agreed, not to mention that he'd had to use the gratitude she should naturally feel because he'd saved her life. And true, she'd immediately growled at him to get out of her hospital room as soon as she'd agreed that he could be a clerk. But by God, he was now a clerk!

Perhaps, now that he was a clerk, he could convince Charlotte Lucas that he was serious in his intentions toward her. Soon after he'd given up trying to woo Elizabeth Bennet, he'd fixed on the plain, hard-working young woman and believed that she would be grateful to receive his attentions. Although she'd been a bit flattered, he wasn't sure that gratitude was the word to describe her state of mind during their date.

Billy walked into the store and smiled. No longer would he have to battle the elements, the traffic, the rude customers who grumbled about how slow he was--even when he knew he was the fastest delivery boy in town. And who knew? Elizabeth Bennet had started out as an apprentice. Now she was the manager of the shop. Perhaps he could own the place someday.

He immediately walked over to the telephone and dialed a number he'd memorized after the first six months he'd worked at De Bourghs'. He spoke quite clearly, so everyone in the store could hear him. "Operator? Please connect me with number 2682, please. Thank you...Good morning! This is Mr. William Collins of De Bourghs'. We're currently looking for a young man to fill the position of errand boy."

The other employees heard him indeed, and turned to look at him with puzzled looks on their faces. Billy smiled.

"Now see here," he said into the phone. "What we're looking for is a clean young man with a solid background, from a good family...Can you find me someone dependable? Yes...Just send three or four over and I'll look them over...Just have them ask for Mr. Collins of the sales department. Thank you." Billy hung up the phone and looked at Charlie, Susan, and Charlotte, who had been staring at him. "What's the matter?" he asked innocently. "Haven't you ever seen a clerk before in your life?"

Puzzlement turned to shock and horror. "You're a clerk?" Susan gasped.

"Who did this dreadful thing? Does Mrs. De Bourgh or Elizabeth know about this?" Charlie demanded to know.

"Well, now, who do you think promoted me? I don't know if Miss Bennet knows yet, but Mrs. De Bourgh personally said that I was now a clerk in her shop. Don't look at me that way," Billy said, frowning at Charlie. "You should all be grateful. If it weren't for me, you'd all be out of a job today."

"What do you mean by that?" Charlotte asked.

"Well, I can't give you any of the particulars, but if I hadn't shown up at the right time, this place would've been closed forever on account of suicide."

Charlie gasped. No wonder Elizabeth hadn't wanted to tell him why Mrs. De Bourgh was in the hospital! But that still didn't answer his other question.

The telephone rang, and Charlotte picked it up. "Good morning, De Bourghs'. No, Mr. de Bourgh, she's not here--"

Billy ripped the phone out of Charlotte's hand and smiled. "I'll take this call. Hello, Mr. de Bourgh. This is Billy speaking."

"Billy! I thought you were to come by last night with my bottle of cologne!"

"That's right. But I'm here to tell you that you're never going to get it! What do you think of that?"

A rather irritated Mr. de Bourgh snapped, "Is this really Billy?"

"Yes! This is Billy speaking! And your cologne days are likely over, Mr. de Bourgh."

"Billy, I know my wife must be there. Put her on the telephone this instant, and see how fast I get you fired."

"You want to speak to Mrs. De Bourgh, sir? That's too bad. Right at the moment, she's off to London with two tall, handsome, young men and can't be disturbed." At the gasps from his co-workers, who were still crowded around him, Billy put his hand over the mouthpiece of the telephone and said, "Don't miss this, folks." Turning back to his caller, he added, "You wouldn't like by any chance to speak with Miss Wickham!" With an almost maniacal laugh, Billy hung up the phone.

"There," he said. "That got him. Draw your own conclusions." And he went to tell Elizabeth about Mrs. De Bourgh's decision to promote him.

The conclusion was swift and almost accurate on the part of all three people left behind. The only thing they couldn't figure out was why Mrs. De Bourgh had thought Elizabeth was having an affair with Mr. de Bourgh, and how she'd found out it was Caroline.

Elizabeth spent a delicious morning going over the inventory and doing other acts that she figured the manager would do. She was wondering whether or not this new power was going to her head when she made a note in the ledger to increase Charlie's salary, then decided that she was thinking nonsense. Charlie had gone over a year and a half without a raise, and the store could certainly afford it. Business, she noted with a smile, was up so much from last year, even up from over this summer, and next year promised to be even better.

Elizabeth was looking forward to next year, even though it meant enduring Billy Collins as a clerk. Well, she supposed that Mrs. De Bourgh had owed him something because of what he'd done.

It was nearly eleven when Caroline tapped on the door to the office and walked in before Elizabeth could invite her in. She looked a bit bedraggled, and the sight made Elizabeth smile. The moment they'd reached the inside of the store, Elizabeth had set Caroline to moving heavy bags from place to place. After that had come dusting the back room shelves, and the next job Elizabeth had for her was hopefully the one that would drive Caroline to leave the shop without having to be fired.

"What do you want, Miss Wickham?" Elizabeth asked.

"I believe you said you wished to see me once I finished dusting."

"Indeed I did. I have another task for you."

"Forgive me for intruding, Miss Bennet, but it's rather busy out there. I think I'm needed out front with customers far more than I'm needed dusting shelves."

"I think the others can handle the front quite well, thanks. After all, Billy has to sink or swim on his own, and a day such as today will do well to determine which will happen."

"But--"

"You have a problem with my decision, Miss Wickham?"

"No...not at all."

"Good." Elizabeth's eyes gleamed, as clearly Caroline did have a problem and wouldn't say anything. "The next thing I want you to do is to go through all those leftover boxes of miscellaneous items that didn't sell this summer and inventory them, so I'll know what we'll have for next summer's sales. Then I want you to--"

"Forgive me for asking, Miss Bennet, but what would be the point? Nothing ever sells if it doesn't go in the first summer. We should just throw those things away or give them out as complimentary gifts."

Elizabeth sighed. "I can see that this isn't going to work at all. You can't tolerate the fact that I'm giving the orders around here, can you?"

"I--I don't know what you mean, Miss Bennet."

"Yes you do, Caroline. You never liked me."

"I like you quite well."

"You don't have to lie because I'm your boss."

"I'm not lying. I'm just not going to be one of those people who always agrees with the boss, so I'm disagreeing with you. I like you quite well."

"There's just one problem, then."

"What's that?"

"I don't like you!"

Caroline didn't seem too surprised to hear that. "Well, then, now that I know the problem, I'll try my best to work on it. I don't think it'll be too difficult a task, and since I always did like you--"

"Caroline, let's be honest here. You've never liked me, I've never liked you. I don't want you agreeing with me, or disagreeing with me."

"In other words, you don't want me here at all."

"I think we understand each other perfectly." Elizabeth's eyes turned cold and her expression changed with it. "I know you for what you are, Miss Wickham. You're a liar and a cheat."

Caroline's mouth opened and closed before she found her voice. "I would like to know what grounds you have for calling me those things."

The telephone rang and Elizabeth picked it up. "Good morning, De Bourghs'."

An unfamiliar female voice said, "I'm calling for Liam Darcy, ma'am. I'm his next-door neighbor. He asked me to tell you that he's not feeling well at all and won't be in to work today."

It felt as though a stone had dropped heavily in her stomach. Liam was undoubtedly depressed over last night, and she was to blame. In spite of everything, her guilt increased and she wished desperately that she'd at least told him who she was, so he would've had the opportunity to end the relationship.

"Well...of course, if he's unwell, we don't want him to overdo anything. Is Mr. Darcy sick?"

"No...I don't think he is. But he looks so sad that it almost broke my heart, ma'am. I think something went wrong on his date last night."

Elizabeth turned pale. "Tell him not to worry about things here. He should just concentrate on feeling better, and come back when he feels able. He'll still have a job here, of course."

"I'll be sure to tell him, ma'am. Thank you."

"Oh, wait! Ma'am, if you please! Could you pass a message along to him for me?"

"Certainly, Mrs. De Bourgh."

"No, I'm not Mrs. De Bourgh. That was the message I wanted to pass along. She's his aunt, you know, and she's in the hospital at the moment, at Bellevue."

"Oh, dear! I hope it's not anything serious."

"I'm sure she'll be fine. I just thought he might want to visit her."

"Thank you for telling me, ma'am. I'll pass that along directly."

"Thank you...and don't forget to tell him what I said, about not coming back until he felt able." Elizabeth hung up the phone and looked at Caroline.

"You're being awfully kind to a man who--" Caroline started to say, but was cut off.

"Don't start that nonsense, Caroline, for I know you lied about your dear, dear sister Christie. She was no sister to you or your brother at all."

Caroline's eyes looked startled to hear the words.

"I know that your brother used that poor girl." She didn't add what Liam suspected, that her brother had killed the girl and his sister. "I know what happened to Gina Darcy, and how your brother used that to gain revenge on Liam."

Caroline, who didn't know anything about someone named Gina, appeared confused. Elizabeth believed it was an act.

"I know only what my brother has told me. I have no reason to doubt it."

"Why, I wonder, did you repeat it to me? I've never been able to figure that out, Caroline. You do everything for a purpose."

"I had no purpose, except to warn you away from him. And I dare say that I cannot be blamed for believing my brother, and you have no right to call me what you did."

"Then how about sleeping with another woman's husband?"

Caroline's complexion turned chalky. "I--I don't understand your meaning."

"I'm sure you'll understand this, though...you're fired, Miss Wickham."

"You can't do that!" she exclaimed.

"Yes I can. I'm the manager, and you don't work here anymore. Now get your things and get out before I have you thrown out."

"How do I know you're the manager? How do I know that you didn't do something with Mrs. De Bourgh that forced her to make you the manager? Prove to me that you're the manager!"

"You want proof? I'll give you proof!" Elizabeth stood up and looked rather menacing. Caroline rushed out of the office and flung herself into the small stand which held the "Voi che sapete" cigarette boxes, knocking them to the floor and starting a noise that startled the three customers present out of the store.

"Did you all see that? I have a nice case for assault and battery," Caroline wailed. "She pushed me into those boxes! I'll be calling all of you as witnesses!"

"All right. You've been fired, so go on and get out of here," Elizabeth said.

"I'm entitled to a months' salary and a letter of reference!"

Billy rushed forward with Caroline's belongings. He held them up, but before she could take hold of them, he dropped them on the floor. Charlotte handed Elizabeth the money Caroline would've received, which Elizabeth tossed in Caroline's face. The money also drifted to the floor.

"What about my letter?" she snapped.

"I forgot about that," Elizabeth said. "Susan, could you please take a letter? 'To whom it may concern, Miss Caroline Wickham has been in the employee of De Bourghs' for approximately three years, in which time she's proven herself to be a liar, cheat, and outright rat! And she's going to actually have reason to charge me with assault and battery if she doesn't get out of this store now! Yours very truly, Elizabeth Bennet, Manager, De Bourghs'."

Caroline grasped her belongings and her money, making sure to put the money in a safe place. "You just wait, Elizabeth Bennet, and see who has the last laugh," she said coldly. "I'll get my revenge, see if I don't!"

Elizabeth didn't put much faith in her vows as she shut the door behind the furious, retreating figure. She was relieved to have her gone, and from the looks on the faces of the other employees, they were just as relieved.

Believe

Posted on Monday, 8 February 1999

Liam was startled to hear from his next-door neighbor that Mrs. De Bourgh was in the hospital. He was wondering who was running the shop. When he asked Mrs. Dashwood, all she could say was that she'd spoken to a lady, and a young-sounding one, over the telephone, and that she hadn't given her name.

Liam had a sinking feeling that he knew exactly who the young lady was, and although he was glad she had her job back, the prospect of working for Elizabeth Bennet didn't appeal to him in the slightest. He knew it was time to look for another job.

But first, he had to look in on his aunt. Mrs. Dashwood had said she was in Bellevue, and so that was where he went as soon as he heard the message.

Catherine smiled to see him when he walked into the room. "Liam," she said. "Why are you not at work?"

"I...I'm not doing so well myself," he said. "I didn't have a good night last night, so I felt it best not to show up to work and frighten away what customers we might have."

"What happened?"

"Well..." Liam sighed. He'd told Catherine about the young woman he was writing to, and she'd encouraged him. He'd mentioned a couple of weeks ago that they were finally going to meet, but she'd seemed less than enthusiastic.

He looked at her now. "Don't worry about me, Catherine. I'll be fine."

"How did you know I was here if you didn't go to work?"

"I had my neighbor call me in sick. She told me that the person she talked to mentioned you were here. I'm presuming Mrs. Dashwood talked to Elizabeth Bennet."

"She did," Catherine confirmed. "She's the manager now. That isn't going to bother you, is it?"

"I...well, we'll see. Catherine, what happened? Was it your heart?"

"No." Catherine turned somber, and then she told him the whole of her story, ending with Billy talking her into coming to the hospital. "I still feel awful, knowing the doubts I had about Elizabeth, but I'm glad she was able to forgive me and come back to work."

"Everything seemed to fit, though. She couldn't really blame you for thinking what you did."

"And so she didn't. I'm guessing that she ignores my request to not make a scene with Caroline, but...quite honestly, I hope she punches her in the nose."

Liam smiled, but his was a sad smile and it reminded Catherine that he was having trouble as well. "Liam," she said, "you never did tell me what was wrong with you. Is it..." Catherine knew that next week would've been Gina's birthday...her twenty-first. "Is it Gina?"

"No. Oddly enough, in the excitement of meeting with my friend, I forgot about that."

"That's a good thing...isn't it?"

"No," Liam said. "We were supposed to meet last night, and she never showed up. I waited until the cafe closed, but I never saw a sign that she was there."

"Oh, Liam...you poor dear. It doesn't seem like anything can go right in this family these days, can it?"

"Worse than that, I may find myself out of a job when I finally do return to work anyway. Miss Bennet arrived and we had words. I'm afraid that I was a bit rude to her, but I was so nervous because I was expecting my friend, and then she went and sat at my table. What if my friend saw her and thought I was already spoken for?"

"Then you should write her a letter, explaining that the young lady was a co-worker and not one you get along with."

"I don't think it would help. You see, I accidentally sent her a letter which explained the truth about Gina. I don't think any woman who would be frightened away by seeing me with another woman would be strong enough to withstand the fact that I'm guilty--"

"Young man, if you say you're guilty of your sister's death, I shall rise up from here and smack you. I thought we'd talked about this."

"We have, but you can't erase six years of guilt with a few talks." Liam cleared his throat. "I doubt I'll ever hear from her again, and perhaps it's just as well. I must've been mad to think that I could meet someone so wonderful through the personals."

The words triggered something in Catherine's mind, something she'd heard months earlier and had found mildly amusing, but hadn't thought to connect until now.

"Call me crazy, Charlie, but this man is so wonderful, I'm amazed I met him through a personal ad."

"I do wonder at your sanity sometimes, Lisa, but from his letters he sounds like a nice man."

"He is. He wrote me just the other day, telling me about his aunt. He says he's closer to his aunt than he is to the rest of his family, and I think he once said that his parents are still alive. The way he speaks of her...well, he almost credits her with saving his life when she gave him a job."

"You never know until you try," Catherine said slowly, trying to form a question in her mind. "I hope you told this woman about me."

Liam thought that a rather odd comment. "I did talk about you. I told her that you practically saved me by giving me a job. We were as open and honest as we could be, about everything but our names. Well, I won't do that again."

Liam was so lost in his frustration and hurt at last night that he didn't notice the look on Catherine's face. She was relieved when he looked up again and thought nothing strange, for she knew it would never do for her to tell him the truth.

But it would make things rather interesting indeed...if she were right.

She had to be right. Elizabeth and Liam had had one thing in common yesterday--they'd both needed the night off for something important. And both had done their best to block the other from going.

Catherine almost laughed. How strange things worked out sometimes! How wonderful--if they could get past their dislike of each other!

"I won't advise you one way or another...as I am having difficulties of my own. But I will say this...I truly thought it a good thing to get to know each other before meeting. Beauty has a way of making you think better of a person, when in reality that person can be quite ugly." Catherine's voice tightened, and Liam knew she was thinking of her husband, and Caroline. "Would you have accepted this woman were she plain?"

"Yes," he said without hesitation. "I fell in love with her mind and soul, not her looks. As I have no idea what she looks like, it was all I could fall in love with." Liam sighed. "I was afraid, though, of what she might think of me. I'm not exactly Valentino, you know."

"I'm sure she would've liked you."

"But she didn't bother to show up. That should say something."

"Did you ever consider that she might've had a problem at work, just like you did?"

"Then why did she not leave a note?"

"Perhaps she had no chance to do so. Perhaps the problem came up after her lunch hour, when she would've been able to get word to you."

"Why are you so determined to prop my spirits?"

"I'm just saying that you should wait and see if she writes again. If she does, it is likely that I'm right, and you'll only be delayed in meeting. If not..." If not, then I'm going to be greatly disappointed in her. "If not, then you did the best you could and you have to move on."

"Right." Liam tried to keep the hope from entering his mind, without success. Catherine had given a legitimate reason for his friend not appearing. "Did the doctors say how long you had to be here?"

"No. Probably for a couple of weeks. I should be out by Christmas. If I am, would you have objections to my spending the holiday with you?"

"Not at all," Liam said with a smile.

Liam was leaving Catherine's room when he heard a gasp. He would've ignored it, but as he walked down the hall and toward the stairs he heard a woman's voice call out, "Sir, wait! Please, wait!"

Liam realized that the woman was talking to him, so he stopped and turned to face a slim, petite brunette in her mid-fifties who was staring at him with surprise.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" he asked.

"I think you might be able to. This might seem a bit hard to believe, sir, but...you look a great deal like someone I know."

Suddenly, Liam understood the woman's problem. He looked like someone she'd known, who was likely dead. He'd been there. Every teen-aged girl with coppery hair and big green eyes had been Gina to him. Occasionally today, whenever he saw a young woman who resembled her, he would stop and stare. The pain, he knew, would never fade. Especially in his case.

"I wish I could help you, ma'am, but--"

"I'm Madeleine Gardiner. Please, don't think just because you saw me here that I'm a resident of the halls. I do volunteer work with the sick children in another wing and was here to talk to a friend of mine when I saw you."

"I don't understand how I can help you, except to empathize, because I know how it feels to lose someone and see them in another person."

Mrs. Gardiner frowned. "I haven't lost anyone, as far as I know. And you wouldn't exactly be helping me, you'd be helping my daughter-in-law. She's the one you look like."

"Your...your daughter-in-law? How could I help her? I do apologize if I seem rude, ma'am, but I don't know you."

"Yes, I realize that. I'm being a dreadful nuisance, bothering you like this, but I wouldn't bother you if the resemblance weren't astonishing. I haven't approached every man with red hair and green eyes just because she's of similar coloring."

"Mrs. Gardiner, there's only one person I've ever had a close resemblance to, and she died several years ago. We inherited it from our mother, who was the last of her line, so it isn't likely that I would look like anyone young."

Mrs. Gardiner's face fell. "I apologize for taking your time, then. I was hoping that you could help Danielle, but--"

"What?" Liam went cold.

"Excuse me?"

"Your daughter-in-law's name. What was it?"

"Danielle. Her name is Danielle."

It had to be a coincidence. Surely there was some sort of explanation for how this woman's daughter-in-law's name was Gina's middle name--Georgiana Danielle Darcy.

"Mrs. Gardiner, how exactly could I help her?"

"You just said..."

"Please...just tell me how you thought I could help you."

"I think we need to sit down, for the tale of how Danielle came to us is quite complicated." Mrs. Gardiner led him to a small waiting room and sat him down. "I've been volunteering at hospitals for several years. A little over six years ago, I was working when I heard talk of a young woman who had been found in the river, nearly dead from a gunshot wound to the head. She hadn't regained consciousness and hadn't babbled any names which might lead to an identification. Everyone marveled that she was alive, but she was a fighter, and it soon became clear that she was going to make it."

That could've described Gina perfectly. She'd been a bit shy, but a tigress when pushed to it.

"I went to see her. She looked like a child of eleven, although the doctors told me she was in her mid-teens. My heart went out to this poor girl, and I made arrangements for her medical bills to be paid until her family could be found. Only when she finally woke up, she remembered little. Only a few hazy memories and no idea as to how she'd ended up near death. The only name she could remember was 'Danielle.' We put ads in the newspapers, but no one ever answered. In the end, my husband and I agreed that we couldn't just leave her on her own, so we brought her to our home. We encouraged her to let the memories come in time and not force anything."

Mrs. Gardiner paused to gauge his reaction. "You look a bit shocked. I suppose you think that what we did was horrifying. A number of our friends did, until they got to know Danielle...unless it's something else? Was Danielle the name of your sister?"

"Danielle was her middle name."

"I see."

"Has she started to remember anything?"

"Not exactly. Danielle soon became a fixture in my family. Brandon fell in love with her almost immediately. I suspect it's because he's my youngest child, and in Danielle he saw someone he could protect from the world. Danielle soon came to feel the same about him, and they were married a year and a half ago. The day after their first anniversary, Danielle awoke screaming. She never called any names, and when she would awaken, she could remember nothing. Now hardly a day goes by when she doesn't have that nightmare, and it's causing no small amount of trouble with my son. He's in so much agony because he doesn't know what's troubling her, and therefore he can't help her."

"Forgive me, ma'am, but where would I come in?"

"I was hoping that if Danielle knew you, and saw you, that she might remember something. As I said, I don't normally approach men who look a bit like you, but you greatly resemble her. If...if I may ask...er, I'm sorry. I didn't get your name."

"It's Fitzwilliam Darcy."

"If I may ask, Mr. Darcy, what happened to your sister?"

"I don't exactly know. She disappeared over six years ago and we presumed she was dead because...well, it's a long story. You can probably guess what I am thinking, Mrs. Gardiner, and I wish it were true. But it couldn't be. My sister's disappearance was in the front page of the papers, along with her picture. Surely one of the doctors would've seen it and known who she was."

"It isn't likely. She was found in Pennsylvania. That's where we were living at the time."

"But...but...the reason we presumed Gina was dead was because the body of the girl she was with was found in New York."

"I know it isn't likely, Mr. Darcy, but when she was first gone, if I had come to you and said this, you would've followed me. Right?"

Liam nodded. "But I can't believe the unbelievable. It's been six years."

"Most of which Danielle has spent in Pennsylvania. We moved here only recently, to see if we could find a doctor who could help her. Please...it's not likely to be right, but there's a chance that you could help her. Would you...please...come to see her?"

Liam could only nod, fearing for what could happen if he spoke. His head was still racing from the hope that perhaps it was true, that Gina was alive, but the overwhelming thought was that he couldn't let his hopes rise. She was dead. And it was in this muddle that he allowed Mrs. Gardiner to direct him to her home in a fashionable part of the city.

He entered the house hesitantly. The home resembled that of his parents', but at the same time, it seemed far more inviting than his parents' had ever been.

"Brandon? Danielle?"

A tall, handsome young man who resembled his mother appeared first. He smiled at his mother before freezing when he saw Liam. "Mother?" he asked hesitantly.

"Is Danielle here?"

Before he could answer, a soft voice called from another room, "I'm here, Mother Gardiner." And before Liam was ready, a tall young woman walked into the hallway and stopped when she saw him.

Liam blinked several times, trying to tell himself that he was only doing what he'd done years ago, thinking that a pretty young woman with red hair and green eyes was his sister. Only this time was different. This time, the hair was the exact shade Gina's had been. Her eyes were identical to his. She'd been smiling when she'd entered the room, and although the smile was gone it had been there long enough for him to know that it was just like his, a shy but pleasant one.

The young woman looked at him for the longest time before she finally said something.

"Liam?" she whispered, before crumpling into a dead faint.

Reunion

Posted on Wednesday, 10 February 1999

Liam could only stare in shock as Brandon Gardiner tended to his unconscious wife. With remarkable ease, he picked her up and carried her into the other room, setting her upon the couch and calling for someone to bring a cold cloth for her head. Liam followed them, still not believing what he had just seen.

"Who is he, Mother? Why did she react in such a way to him?" Brandon said angrily. "Is he the one who put a bullet in her head and left her to die?"

Liam finally snapped out of his daze. "I'm her brother," he said softly. "This is my sister...this is..." Liam knelt by his sister's feet, staring at her pale face and knowing that the dream he'd put away six years ago had finally come true. Gina was alive. "This is Gina," he finished. And with that, the tears that had threatened to fall finally did, and he wept silently while thanking God for this precious miracle.

She stirred slowly. The first sight she saw was that of her husband and Mrs. Gardiner, and for a moment she thought that perhaps the tall man with the reddish brown hair had been a dream, but then she saw him as well.

Liam. "Liam?" she repeated in a trembling voice.

Liam looked up at her. "Gina."

Her head was hurting, as it had a good deal lately. She found that trying to remember anything about her former life made her head hurt, and therefore she'd stopped thinking about it. Until the nightmares she couldn't remember, and now today.

It was hurting a great deal because she couldn't remember anything more about this man other than what appeared to be his name. And what was that he'd called her? "Gina...is that my name?" she asked. "My actual name?"

The light dimmed in his eyes, and she knew she'd hurt him. It made her feel guilty, because it was already apparent to her that he'd been quite close to her...before.

Liam was hurt, but he tried to hide it as best he could. And he tried to tell himself that of course she couldn't be expected to wake up and remember everything just because she'd remembered his name. That would be too much to hope for...

And besides, it was enough knowing that she was alive. "Yes," he said. "Actually, Gina was your nickname. Georgiana is your actual name."

"Georgiana," she said slowly. "If that is my name, then why..."

"Danielle is your middle name," Liam said. "I can't explain why you clung to it, rather than your first name."

Something dark clouded her eyes, causing her to feel dizzy again, then disappeared. "From our similarity to each other, I presume we're related."

"You're my sister," he said, his voice still shaky. "Oh, God! I--I can't believe it's really you! So many times, I dreamed that you'd actually be alive, that you would come to me and...and...and now you're here."

"Not exactly as you might've imagined," Mrs. Gardiner said with a small smile.

Liam looked into her green eyes, seeing no recognition of anything, not even of the name he'd called her. "No, but it's enough that she's here, and I'm looking at her. Gina--"

"Don't call me that, please," she whispered, the darkness waving again. "Please, don't call me...don't..." She put a hand to her head, and for a moment Liam feared she would faint again. "I'm Danielle."

She didn't notice the black look Brandon gave Liam, the suspicion that he might've had something to do with Danielle's injury still remaining.

Liam knew what the young man was feeling, and he said, "I didn't do this to her. I couldn't have hurt her for the world."

"He didn't," Danielle said weakly.

"How do you know that? Do you remember him?" Brandon asked in as gentle a voice as he could find.

Danielle shook her head. "No, but...I can sense this about him. I..." Something cleared in her mind, and she brightened, her headache fading. "I do remember something, but it must've been from long ago. You and I were in a forest of some sort, and had come to a stream."

A smile had come to Liam's hand. "Our summer home in Maine."

"Yes! You wouldn't let me go swimming because I had no swimming clothes. I was so determined to go out into the water because it was so warm that I ignored you and waded out in my dress...I remember that dress because it was so ugly."

Liam laughed. "Now I remember. You were six at the time, and I was sixteen. Do you remember what happened after you went into the water?"

"You caved in a taught me to swim as best I could. Then..." Just as swiftly as she'd thought it gone, the headache returned.

Liam tried to remember what had happened next, and when he did, Danielle's recurring headache started to make more sense. "Then George Wickham showed up."

With a shriek, Danielle hid herself in the crook of her husband's arm, trying to block out the name she hadn't heard in years. Brandon's eyes met Liam's, and a new understanding reached them.

"Was he a friend of yours?" Brandon asked.

"Don't talk about him! Don't talk about him! He made me promise I wouldn't!" Danielle's muffled voice cried. "He swore he'd kill me!"

Liam touched his sister on the shoulder. Her tear-streaked, terrified face looked at him. "He's already tried to kill you," Liam said. "Just as I suspected he had, along with--"

"--Christie." A look of sheer horror, full of memories, crossed Danielle's face. "Oh, God. I remember what happened after...after you told Christie that you refused to accept responsibility for a child that wasn't yours. That night, she convinced me to come along with her to the train station. She said that she couldn't bear for her brother or sister to be ruined by her shame, but she didn't want to leave New York without someone to say good-bye to. I went, and...and he was waiting there for us."

"Did you know that Christie wasn't George's sister?" Liam asked.

Danielle shook her head. "Not until later. He...he made me get into this car with him and Christie. He stopped when we were far away from the city and tied me up. He then returned to the city and stopped at a bridge. It was nighttime, and the city lights were on. He told her that he wanted to see the lights one last time with her. They went out...and then he pushed her off the bridge. I...I can see her now. She had no time to scream...no time to do anything. She fell into the water and didn't surface."

Brandon looked at his wife with grief-stricken eyes. This, then, was the nightmare which woke her at night, and he'd never had an inkling.

"Did...did they ever find her?" she asked.

"Three days later. It was presumed that you were also dead, and later, two witnesses came forward to say they'd seen the two of you on the bridge. One of you was thrown from it; the other jumped. We just figured...that your body had been caught in the current and swept out to the ocean. Later, I suspected that the witnesses had been paid off and that he'd killed you both that night." Liam wiped tears from his eyes at the memories, then asked, "What happened next?"

"George drove away from the city. I didn't know where we were going, and I didn't care. I knew he was going to kill me because I'd seen him kill Christie. He laughed as we sped down the roads, saying that although Christie hadn't done the trick, he intended to get his share of the Darcy fortune one way or another. He...he stopped in towns at night, and would let me loose, and threatened to kill me if I said anything to anyone. He told me that if I even told anyone my name he'd kill me. He'd say my name over and over again...Gina, Georgiana, Gina, Georgiana...almost as though he were wanting me to say it to someone, so he could kill me."

Mrs. Gardiner was almost in need of the smelling salts her daughter-in-law now held. She could not imagine such a monster in the world, who could've tortured this young woman in such a way.

"I...I felt as though I could protect myself if I stopped thinking of myself as Gina, so I started repeating my middle name in my mind...Danielle. If I couldn't have my first name, then I could at least have my middle one.

"When we reached what I was later told was Pennsylvania, he told me the truth about Christie. He laughed about how gullible she'd been, how eager she'd been to go along with this plan. He said he was even considering using Caroline in his ruse, but--"

"Caroline? Who is Caroline?" Liam asked abruptly, going pale.

"His actual sister. But he didn't use her because he couldn't have gotten rid of her like he did Christie, and then he'd be stuck with a brat he didn't want if things fell through."

Liam felt vaguely sick to his stomach. Caroline was George's sister...he'd worked next to her for months, and all along...He prayed that Elizabeth hadn't followed Catherine's instructions, that he wouldn't have to face Caroline Wickham when he returned to work.

"He intended to ransom me at first, but then I would see him looking at me with a gleam in his eyes that scared me...and one night, he said that instead of giving me back, perhaps he would be better off marrying me and 'giving me a brat' to insure that you wouldn't have the marriage annulled."

Danielle tried to shrink away from her husband's embrace as though she'd done something to wrong him, but Brandon was having none of that and only strengthened his hold on her.

"I...I managed to get away from him before he could do anything. At the place we were staying, there was a woods, and I ran into them, and he followed me, furious, occasionally shooting at me with his gun. I had managed to reach a river when...I..." Danielle shook her head slowly. "That's all I remember, except feeling this pain in my head and then nothing."

"He'd shot you in the head," Liam said. "And you were thrown into the river and later found."

Danielle nodded. "And when I woke up, Mother Gardiner was standing over me, telling me that she was so happy I'd finally woke up. She asked me my name...and all I could focus on was the name I'd clung to during that time with him. So I told her that I thought it might be Danielle. I couldn't seem to remember anything else."

"Until today."

"Yes."

"Do you remember anything else? Our parents or our lives before?"

She shook her head.

"Perhaps seeing them would bring her memories back," Mrs. Gardiner suggested. "After all, look what seeing you did."

Liam's smile was wistful. "I don't know that Gi--that Danielle appreciates my presence much, for it has forced her to remember something she would rather have left forgotten."

"No!" Danielle exclaimed. "No, I am most glad to see you, because now I know what my nightmare has been. If I am unable to remember anything else, I will at least know what I have to fear. And...and I know that I have my brother again. I have a family, even if I cannot remember much of them."

"I do not know if I want you to see our parents."

"Why not?" Brandon asked.

"Well..." Liam couldn't do this to Danielle. He couldn't tell her that her presumed death had torn apart the family, and that George Wickham had been responsible. He could see another emotion in her eyes when she'd told of Christie's death, and that had been guilt. Liam sensed that very soon, she would begin thinking that Christie might've lived if she hadn't gone with her. "It's complicated, and I think Gi--Danielle has had enough for today."

"He's right," Mrs. Gardiner said. "Liam, would you be willing to come back tomorrow at this time, and visit with your sister, and perhaps talk of the good things before this happened?"

"It would be a pleasure, ma'am, but I have to be at work, at De Bourghs'. I wasn't there today because I was visiting a relative and..."

"Work? Fitzwilliam Darcy, what are you doing working...and for one of our de Bourgh relatives?"

Everyone turned to look at Danielle again. Not only had she called him by his correct name, which he hadn't told her, but she'd known that the de Bourghs were relatives.

"I suspect," Liam said, "that I won't be needed to tell her much by this time tomorrow."

In a gesture that had been one of Georgiana Darcy's trademarks, she sat up fully and crossed her arms over her chest. Had she been standing, Liam knew, she would've had her hands on her hips. "You didn't answer my question," she said.

"I have to work because I have no money. And I work at De Bourghs' because it was the only place I could get a job. And our de Bourgh relatives aren't that bad, you know. Catherine is quite nice."

"What do Mom and Dad do now?" she asked. "Do they work there as well?"

Liam sighed. He hadn't wanted to tell her this, but she was leaving him no choice. And the fact that she was calling their parents "Mom and Dad" instead of "Mother and Father," like she did before, was a sign that her locked memory was returning in floodlike fashion.

"No. I was disinherited after your...well, after we thought you were dead. George Wickham told Father that I had fathered Christie's baby and then denied to take responsibility for it, thereby causing Christie to disappear and you with her. He blamed me for your death."

Danielle looked down at the floor. "What about the money you were due to receive anyway?"

"Lost in the crash. I didn't care about finances after you were gone, until I found myself in need of work." Liam cupped her chin in his hands and said, "Don't blame yourself for this, Danielle." This time, there was no stuttering before saying her name. Liam was trying not to upset her any more than he already had, and if she preferred being called Danielle now, then that's what he'd call her.

"I can't help it, Liam."

"Try. I'll come by tomorrow after I get off work and we'll have a good long talk. You can tell me about how you fell in love with Brandon, and I'll tell you about my life since you've been gone." He put his arms around her. "I love you, kid."

"I love you too," she said, holding him in a fierce embrace that neither wanted to release. When he finally stepped away from her, he grasped her hand as though he were afraid to let her go, afraid that if he did she wouldn't be real.

But she was real. And she was alive.

Liam left the Gardiners' with such a feeling of happiness and peace that he felt he could endure anything, including Elizabeth Bennet. After all, what was one pesky new boss compared to all the happiness in the world since he had his sister back again?

But even as he thought of the future with a great deal of gladness, he thought of something else. George Wickham was still alive, and he was out there...and even though he had no way to connect Georgiana Darcy to Danielle Gardiner, something might come out and he could be back to silence her forever.

Liam was determined that that would never happen. He would die before he'd ever let George near those he loved--ever again.

A Truce

Posted on Thursday, 11 February 1999

Dear Friend,

I have been plagued by my conscience all day today, and so I have decided to write this letter so I can explain my position about what happened yesterday. First of all, I'm sorry that I didn't go over to your table and meet you; however, I had good reason.

Tell me, and be frank: who was that lovely young woman you were sitting with when I walked into the cafe? She's a very nice sort, I dare say, the type men fall for, if a bit tall. Still, being tall yourself, I'm sure that didn't bother you. I saw the two of you together and thought that perhaps you had changed your mind about me, and I can't honestly blame you. It's why I didn't join you.

As I said before, I've been feeling dreadful about not staying to meet you, because it occurred to me this morning that the young lady you were with might be nothing more than your sister, or a good friend, or someone you know from work. If that was the case, and you waited for me to show in vain, then my guilt is ten-fold. If, on the other hand, you were merely trifling with me, sir, then please let me know so that I may stop writing you.

I suppose you are wondering what I thought of you, as I did get to see what you looked like. I must say, sir, that I am not displeased. I was afraid that you may be too handsome to tempt me. Yet there you sat, and while you spoke to the young lady at your table, I couldn't help but notice that your eyes were sparkling with green fire. You had a definite look of intelligence, which I greatly value in a man, and also of kindness...

Elizabeth sighed as she reread the rough draft of her letter. She had already sent the final version to him, which he should be receiving today. She supposed that one could not guess her identity from it, although she did try to make herself sound as appealing as she could. She could only imagine how Liam would describe her when he wrote back...if he wrote back.

Nowhere in her letter did she mention the revelations of his last one. Knowing Liam to be a somewhat private man, she felt that perhaps it was for the best if she just kept that part of their communication quiet.

It had been two days since they had planned to meet. Liam had not arrived for either day of work, and something Mrs. De Bourgh told her made her worry. She'd said that Liam had been rather unhappy the first time he'd come to see her (although Mrs. De Bourgh made certain not to mention that she knew the truth), but that yesterday, he'd been in such good spirits that she'd been astounded at the change.

It made no sense to Elizabeth, for she had only sent her letter yesterday, and therefore he could not have received it. She wondered what had caused him to be so happy. After all, she was now the manager of the shop, and she had stood him up for their date. Not that she was thrilled with the latter anymore.

Indeed, in the days since their failed meeting, Elizabeth had thought a great deal about Liam Darcy, and it began to confuse her. Never before had he intruded on her thoughts quite as much as he did after the cafe incident. Elizabeth had thought, considering how rude he'd been to her, that she should have no guilt at all for leaving him there.

Instead, she began to think of those letters. And she thought of the wounded soul who had written them, the soul she'd seen in person only once, the night he'd mentioned his sister. She thought of how her problems with him had started, and even though she knew he'd started them by suggesting that she'd been stealing from the shop, and that he should be the manager, she began to realize something else.

In the beginning, he'd been firm in his belief that women shouldn't work. Later, he'd mentioned to Charlotte that he'd come to admire her tenacity in working and in being able to support her family. He'd told Susan that she was smart enough to be a businesswoman someday. He'd even complimented Caroline once, although she'd treated it like an insult and he had been a bit sarcastic.

It made Elizabeth wonder how much of those compliments he'd paid her two nights ago were what he really felt, when he'd said that a person could learn a great deal from her. About how she was different from the other women he knew who worked. He'd been trying to get her to do something, sure, but surely he'd meant a little bit of it. She hoped so.

She'd fallen in love with the man who'd written those letters, and although she wasn't in love with Liam Darcy, she could at least recognize that she was growing to admire him more.

So she'd sent him a letter, apologizing for not showing up, coming up with a rather handy excuse, and hoping he'd write back soon. For that matter, she hoped he returned to work soon.

Her hopes in that direction were soon in coming, for he returned to work on the third day after their failed meeting with a smile permanently etched on his face, a pleased look in his eye, and an altogether better disposition than she'd ever seen before.

"Good morning, Miss Bennet," he said cheerfully when he arrived and saw her. "I heard that you were promoted while I was gone. Congratulations."

"Thank you," she said. "You're in a good mood today, Mr. Darcy."

"That I am."

"May I inquire what has brought it about?" Hopefully her letter, which if he'd stopped by the post office, he would've received.

Indeed, that was part of his good mood, but not all of it, for Danielle's being alive made everything seem brighter. This evening, in fact, he was taking her to their parents. Although Danielle had talked about him being returned to the family, Liam didn't want to use her in that way and he had little interest in making up with his parents. He'd never been close to his domineering father and cold, distant mother, preferring...well, George when he was younger, and later Gina. He wanted nothing from them, not even money. He would rather remain a poor clerk than take what would be guilt money.

"You may indeed, for the news will soon be out. You remember that I told you about my sister Gina?"

"Yes. You told me she died six years ago." And in greater detail in his heartbreaking letter.

"Well, it turns out that she's been alive all this time."

Elizabeth gasped. "You're kidding."

"No. That's what I thought, that it was all a cruel hoax, but Miss Bennet, it was my sweetest dream, and it was real." Liam's face grew darker when he said, "But she almost died. The man who..." He suddenly remembered that Elizabeth knew none of the story. "She had no memory of her prior life, so a wonderful woman and her late husband took her in. She goes by her middle name of Danielle now, but...that is a small trifle to the fact that she is truly alive."

Elizabeth wished she could give him a great hug and kiss, tell him how thrilled she was that his sister was alive, and ask to meet her. And you could have, too, if you'd bothered to tell him who you were. Instead, Elizabeth just smiled. "I am extremely happy for you, Mr. Darcy. I know how you were affected by your sister's...disappearance."

Liam looked at her with a puzzled look, not certain how she'd known that. "Thank you," he said. "There is another matter, Miss Bennet, which is making me feel good."

"And what is that?"

"Well, it concerns the young lady I was to meet the other day. Do you recall that I was waiting for someone at the cafe when you arrived?"

"Yes. I'd heard that she never showed."

"That's just it, Miss Bennet. She did show, saw us together and thought the worst. She decided not to introduce herself to me."

Elizabeth smiled. "If I caused you any grief, Mr. Darcy, I do apologize, but you were making me so mad that I had to defend myself."

Liam smiled in return. "It's all right."

"Although it does seem to me that if she can be frightened off by something as simple as seeing a plain-Jane like me talking to you--"

"It's not like that at all, Miss Bennet! She thought we were having a private conversation, one she wouldn't dream of interrupting. It was a simple mistake."

"I see. Well, I'm glad to hear you've got things ironed out with her. Going to meet her again?"

"I certainly hope so. But something else about that night has been bothering me, Miss Bennet, and that is what I said to you."

"Oh, well, that's--"

"I realize that we've not been good friends, and I realize that we've had our definite differences of opinion...and we've been downright rude to each other, as we were the other night. But the past few days have taught me that petty jealousies should be put aside and not thought on."

"In other words, you'd like to let bygones be bygones." Elizabeth hid her laughter. He had a way with words, that was for sure.

"Yes. It can only benefit the store if we were to try to be friends, or at least get along. To be completely honest...this is the first store that I've truly enjoyed working in. The other places were frustrating for one reason or another. Did you know that I was forced to quit one job because I was too tall to suit the owner of the place?"

Elizabeth laughed. "I believe I worked there for a week before getting the boot."

"You mean you didn't start off at De Bourghs'?"

"No. I ended up here, which is the important thing."

"Yes. Quite right. Maybe that's the important thing for both of us."

"I think you're right about it being time to settle our differences, Mr. Darcy. I got to thinking about what you'd said, and I realized that giving imitations of people in the locker room was childish. And some of the other things I dare not think about without blushing in shame."

"Well, it wasn't all your fault. I mean, I did contribute to the problem." He extended his hand. "Truce?"

Elizabeth took it. "Truce."

Charlie approached just then, full of news about Jamie and how he was getting most tired of Mrs. Bennet. Liam took the opportunity to look at the window they'd been creating that day, and smiled. He'd noticed that Elizabeth had thought to include a few of the cigarette boxes...which gave him an idea.

"Do you like how it turned out?" Elizabeth asked when she noticed him staring at it.

"Very much so," Liam said. "I was just thinking about those poor old 'Voi che sapete' cigarette boxes."

"Most of them are now broken beyond repair. Caroline threw herself into them deliberately."

"Yes, Catherine told me about her departure from the store." To his great relief. "But there are a few still in good condition?"

"Yes...why? Does your sister like Mozart?"

"No...but my lady friend once mentioned that she was an admirer of his work, so I thought it might be a nice gift to get her for Christmas."

Elizabeth nearly gasped in horror. Indeed, Charlie had a devil of a time trying to control his laughter, for he knew that although Elizabeth liked Mozart, she detested that piece of music and those boxes in particular.

"Oh, I don't know that that's such a good idea, Mr. Darcy. We've gotten a number of complaints about those boxes falling apart." Not exactly true, but she was willing to do anything to get out of receiving that for Christmas.

"Have we? I never heard anything."

"Believe me, we did. Mrs. De Bourgh told me that she wished she hadn't ordered those." Which was true, because she'd taken a bit of a loss on them. "You know, I think that your girlfriend might like a...a..." Bracelet. Necklace. Earrings. Something! "A ring."

Charlie looked at Elizabeth in surprise.

"A ring? You mean an engagement ring?"

Oh Lord, I've managed to get myself into a dilly this time. "Not an engagement ring, exactly, but maybe something symbolic of your love for her. Or...or perhaps you could get her one of those lovely diamond lockets we got in last week. I think that would be a lovely, romantic gift for her."

"Oh, no. That would probably be out of my price range."

"I'd give you a special employee discount."

"I couldn't."

"You know, Mr. Darcy, besides being a nice ornament, a locket is a rather special thing for a man to give a woman. You can give her a small picture or yourself to put in it, so she always has you close to her heart...you could even have it engraved somewhere with a special message of love, just for her."

Liam smiled. "Miss Bennet, I had no idea you could be the romantic type. It's a nice side to you. But just the same, I think I'll get her the cigarette box. It's more within my price range, and I wouldn't feel right taking a special discount."

Just then, Billy arrived with Charlotte on his arm, with Susan trailing behind them, looking at Billy with disgust. Elizabeth decided to open the doors and prepare for another business day.

And Now, the Villains

Posted on Thursday, 11 February 1999

George Wickham looked at the newspaper in disgust. The front page screamed:

Missing Darcy Heiress Found!

So they'd finally caught up to Georgiana. And here George had thought she was dead that day down by the river. God knew she should've been, all that blood streaming from the wound in her head. According to the doctor quoted in the article, the wound had been superficial and what had nearly killed her was not the wound itself, but the blood loss and exposure at the time of discovery.

Instead, she was alive and well, having been returned to the bosom of her parents. The article stated that "Miss Darcy does not, at this time, recall the events which led to her near-fatal shooting."

Like hell she didn't, he thought, or why else would he be mentioned in the next paragraph? "Police suspect that George Wickham, a friend of the family's, may have been behind the incident, and are now seeking his whereabouts. He is wanted for questioning in connection to this incident and the fatal drowning of Christie Carrington, age 20, which occurred within the same time frame."

How would they have known anything about Christie if Gina hadn't told them? Christie's death, he knew, had been ruled a suicide. He'd paid well to insure that it was, although it had turned out to be money unwisely spent. Convinced that Gina was dead, Mr. Darcy had disowned his son and fired his son's friend.

There was a picture to go with the article. It was Gina, all right, right down to that dimple in her chin. The picture, which had apparently been taken the night before, showed her with her parents.

But oddly enough, not with Liam. George puzzled about that for a while, since the moment he saw the article the rage and envy against his friend had risen, and he'd assumed that Liam had made up with his family. George reread the article, and saw only one mention of him. "Fitzwilliam Darcy, brother of the found heiress, was unavailable for comment."

The door opened and shut rather quickly. George looked up to see his sister shaking snow from the lapels of her coat. "Did you read the papers?" she asked. "I thought you told me that Christie had killed Gina Darcy."

"I thought she had as well."

Caroline looked at her brother. She had no doubt that he was involved in this incident up to his deep blue eyes, although she'd never had an inkling that he would actually be capable of murder. It made her feel a bit sick inside to realize that he'd been so callous as to kill that young girl.

She would've been even more sick had she known the complete truth about it.

But George was still her brother, and she had to protect him. He wouldn't have had to resort to murder had it not been for that wretched Darcy family not giving him what he was owed. She would still have a job at De Bourghs' if Liam had shown a slight bit of sense and been interested in her rather than in Elizabeth Bennet. She still planned to have her revenge. She just didn't know how.

"Then why do the police wish to question you about it?"

"I have no idea, Caroline. I suppose the Darcy family is trying to make things worse for me. Not that I care. I plan on leaving this God-forsaken town soon enough."

"Me, too," Caroline said. "Bad enough that Liam Darcy rejected me, but for someone such as Elizabeth Bennet!"

"What are you talking about?" George asked, for since his reunion with his sister the day after she was fired, he'd paid little attention to her tales of woe.

"He was interested in this tall, plain, coarse young woman. I tried to turn his attention to me, because I knew he had money somewhere, but he would have nothing of it. Indeed, he rejected me in a most brutal manner."

George was used to Caroline's exaggerations and knew that Liam had likely told her the truth--that he would never inherit anything from his parents. Or at least, at that time he hadn't been due to inherit. Things had probably changed now.

"What did you say her name was?" George asked.

"Elizabeth Bennet."

George's brow wrinkled and he looked at his sister. "Bennet? Do you know if she's any relation to a girl named Lydia?"

"I don't know. She could be. I've heard her talk to her brother-in-law Charlie on a number of occasions about her sisters, and I think she might've mentioned the name Lydia."

George laughed. The laughter continued for a good two minutes before Caroline became frustrated at not knowing what he was laughing about. "What's so funny?" she finally asked.

"This is rife with irony, my dear sister," he said. "Lydia Bennet is the name of that girl I've been seeing. You know, the dimwitted girl with the nice body. The one who snuck us into her sister's place one afternoon--it didn't hurt that her sister's landlady owed me a favor--so we could be alone. The one who doesn't want her parents to know about me."

"And you think she's Elizabeth's sister?"

"I do. And Elizabeth is the woman Liam Darcy is interested in. Isn't this delightful?"

"I don't see how."

"It's quite simple. I made a fatal mistake six years ago when I kidnapped Gina. I didn't gain her trust, so I was forced to make her feel like a hostage, and I didn't blindfold her so she couldn't see what happened to Christie."

"So?"

"So...this time, it's going to be so much simpler to carry this off. You see, that flighty brat thinks she's in love with me. She thinks I love her. I've even been silly enough to mention marriage, but she's afraid of angering her mother."

"You're thinking of abducting Lydia and holding her for ransom?"

"Yes."

"But George, I don't know that Liam and Elizabeth are close enough for him to care whether or not her sister is kidnapped."

"It doesn't matter. I know Liam. If he even suspects that I've got an 'innocent' victim, he'll do anything I say to make sure that what happened to Gina doesn't happen to someone else. And it'll only give him more incentive if that victim happens to be the sister of the woman you think he's in love with."

Caroline was beginning to see the merits of such a plan. "It could work," she said. "Only Liam has no money."

George scoffed. "Please. The only reason he was disinherited was because of what I said to his father, which led to the belief that he was the reason Gina took off and died. I'm sure they've patched up their differences and Liam has money. Even if he doesn't, I would think that Gina would be more than willing to come up with the money to save someone. Or perhaps I could try to get ransom out of both of them."

"I wouldn't get too greedy," Caroline said. "Just one lump sum. It would make things so much easier." There was something that bothered her. "But George, I don't want there to be any killing."

George looked at her. He knew that she was aware of the truth--that he'd killed Christie and almost killed Gina.

"I don't understand why it was necessary for you to do it last time, but surely it won't be necessary this time. All you would need to do is string the girl along until we get the money, then disappear and leave her on her own. Don't give her an idea of where you might be going."

George decided to say nothing except, "All right. We'll have no killing. What happened to Gina was an accident, anyway. I didn't mean to shoot her. I only wanted to stop her from getting away, and I accidentally hit her in the head."

Caroline didn't quite believe that. "So, when shall we do this?"

George grinned, his sense of timing impeccable. "Christmas Eve. We shall be a pair of Scrooges come next Christmas, which would make all this wonderfully symbolic, don't you think?"

Caroline laughed. "Only you, my dear brother, could come up with something such as that. Christmas Eve, then."

And with that, brother and sister hugged to seal the plot.

Christmas Eve

Posted on Friday, 12 February 1999

Elizabeth unlocked the doors early the morning of Christmas Eve, eager for the day to begin...and eager for it to draw to a close.

And just a little bit nervous.

She'd once again agreed to meet Liam, again at Bleeker's Cafe, at 8 pm. She was excited because she would finally get to tell him who she was, but at the same time, she was nervous that he might become furious with her for not telling him the last time, when she must've known who he was. Despite their far more pleasant working relationship lately, she knew that something such as this could change things immensely. Still, she was excited. It would be a relief for him to finally know, and it would be up to him whether or not they pursued a social relationship.

She'd even splurged and bought him a Christmas gift--another somewhat loud, utterly inappropriate-for-work tie. She believed it would suit him quite well, as well as letting him know that she had liked his other tie. The only wrinkle in all of this was that she knew what he planned to give her.

She didn't want that stupid cigarette box. She would like the locket she'd mentioned, but she could understand if it was too expensive for him, even with the discount. She'd been surprised to hear that he was a man of his word regarding his parents and their money. They'd been more than willing to forgive their son and assuage their guilt by throwing money at him. Liam had accepted their apologies but refused the money and the gifts they sent him. It confused them, he'd mentioned to her, because they couldn't picture a world without luxury.

"As for me," he'd added, "I think I've become accustomed to the simple life."

"You mean you'd be willing to work here forever?" she asked him.

"Not necessarily. In fact, my father's mentioned that if I am so enamoured of working for my money, he could get me an entry-level position in one of his businesses. I'm considering it...as long as I can be assured that he won't be putting some poor person out of a job to do it."

Elizabeth couldn't help but admire him. She'd read so much of his spoiled lifestyle before the crash, and seen a great deal of his arrogance in their early days, that the man standing before her was almost a complete mystery. Or perhaps he'd been there all along, and had been lurking behind the rest of it.

Elizabeth ushered all the other employees into the store, but Billy stayed behind to wait for the new delivery boy. Although Elizabeth was more than satisfied with the newcomer's abilities, Billy, for some reason she didn't want to delve into, was not.

"Take it easy on him, okay?" she told him. "And remember that not so long ago, you were in his position."

Billy hated being reminded of that, but what could he say in retaliation? She was the boss, after all.

The tall, slightly gawky young man appeared a few minutes later, trudging to work with his bicycle. Although he was only seventeen, it was clear that he had great potential, in business as well as in looks. He was a handsome boy, and would be an extremely attractive man once he grew into his bony frame. A job such as this delivery job would speed that process along by giving him coordination and muscle tone.

Billy's main problem, had he bothered to tell Elizabeth, was that this boy did his job almost too well. He was quicker than Billy, who had thought himself the fastest delivery boy in the city. And if the telephone calls specifically asking for that "nice Fitzwilliam boy" to deliver packages for them were any indication, he was popular with the customers as well.

"You're almost late, Richard," Billy said, looking at his watch. In actuality, the boy was on time and he knew it. But he'd become accustomed to this particular employee giving him a hard time, and said nothing.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Collins." Richard Fitzwilliam walked toward the shop, hoping to get in and warm himself for a few minutes before he was back on the streets, making deliveries in the cold.

"Just a moment, Richard! We need to have a talk."

Richard almost groaned. All he wanted was to warm up--was that too much to ask? "Yes, Mr. Collins?"

"You realize that today is Christmas Eve, and therefore we're going to be busier than we are at any other time of the year."

"Yes."

"And you realize that you're going to have to be going through some heavy traffic today, and that with the weather as bad as it is, there could be trouble."

"Of course. I've prepared for that, sir."

"Make sure that you're swift and alert today. And try not to mix up packages like you did before."

That had been only on Richard's first day of work, and no other. "Yes, sir."

Billy looked at the young man suspiciously, looking for signs of dissent and ingratitude. "Am I asking too much?"

"No, sir!"

"Good."

Elizabeth poked her head out the door and frowned at Billy. "For heaven's sake, Billy, that poor boy is probably freezing. Let him come inside and warm up before we send him out. We have coffee in the back, Richard."

"Thank you, ma'am," Richard said politely, walking toward the door and flashing her a grateful smile.

Billy went back inside the shop, muttering to Elizabeth, "I only wanted to be sure he knew how important today was going to be."

"I'm sure he understands without being told, Billy. Could you do me a favor?"

"Sure!" Billy snapped to attention, always wanting to be of service to his boss.

"In the back room, on the top shelf, are some black bags like the ones in the window. Caroline rather thoughtlessly left them up there, and I want them out. It's likely that we'll sell out of them, as they're a popular item, but I don't want to have customers waiting twenty minutes while we get them down later."

And off Billy went to get the bags. He asked his "sweet Charlotte" if she could help him out, and Charlotte went along with him.

Elizabeth shook her head. She wished that the world weren't as it was, that Charlotte didn't see marriage as a way of escaping her demanding parents. She wished that Charlotte didn't see herself as being plain and dull. She wished that Charlotte hadn't come to tell her the other day that Billy had proposed marriage, and that she was seriously considering it.

But those were thoughts that could be put aside for the time being. She had another idea, and she wanted the other employees to help out. "Everyone, I have an idea," she said in a loud voice. Billy and Charlotte appeared from the stock room. The others came from the locker room, holding cups of coffee. "I was thinking that perhaps we should get Mrs. De Bourgh a Christmas gift."

"That's a wonderful idea," Liam said.

"Absolutely," Susan said. "How about if we get her a little Christmas tree for her hospital room? I know that should cheer her up immensely."

"That sounds good," Charlotte agreed. "And perhaps she'd like a good book or two."

"She mentioned the other day that she wouldn't mind reading Thackeray," Liam added.

"Those are all good ideas. Liam, the book store next door should have that, and we've got tiny little Christmas trees from one of the windows we did last year. But I was thinking of something more special than that."

"Such as?" Charlie asked.

"An empty-looking store and cash register full of money. I think that would be the perfect gift."

They were all in agreement that they would try to make this day the best in years. Liam went over to buy the book Mrs. De Bourgh had mentioned she wanted to read, while Charlotte, Susan, and Elizabeth decorated a small Christmas tree. Elizabeth wrote a small note, telling Mrs. De Bourgh that they wished she had a merry Christmas and told of their plans for business that day. All the employees signed the note, even Richard, who was asked to deliver the package to the hospital.

Feeling happier than she had in a long time, Elizabeth looked over the store to make sure everything was in place before she opened the doors.

Liam was in the process of arranging the counter display when Charlie approached him. "Do you need any help, Charlie?" Liam asked.

"Well, actually, you might be able to help. Elizabeth told me that you bought one of those 'Voi che sapete' cigarette boxes, the only one that really works properly."

Liam smiled sheepishly. "That I did. It's going to be a present to my girlfriend." Liam had been so thrilled when she suggested that they meet again that he'd gone ahead and bought the box.

"Oh! Your girlfriend...I didn't know you had one."

"Well, it's sort of a recent thing, you know."

"Is it serious?"

"Very."

"Oh, well, then...never mind."

Liam looked up from his display to smile. "Was there any reason in particular that you wanted one as well? I never thought you were particularly enamoured of them."

"Well, it's not for me. It was going to be a gift for my mother-in-law, but if you're going to give it to a serious girlfriend, then forget the whole thing."

Liam had the feeling he was missing something to this conversation. "Your mother-in-law, you say? Can't you get her something else?"

"No, not really. You see, I don't like her. She's annoying and smothering and she's been driving my poor Jane positively batty. I didn't like her before Jane had the baby, and it's just gotten worse. But I do have to get her a Christmas gift because Jane insisted, so I thought that as long as I have to buy her something it might as well be something she's not going use or like."

Liam paused from his work. He knew the boxes hadn't sold well, but he'd always thought them rather charming.

"It's a bit of a steep price to pay to make my mother-in-law mad, but it would be worth it...oh." Charlie stopped talking as though he'd just remembered something. "I'm sorry, Liam. I forgot that you always liked those boxes."

"Charlie, wait. Could you be honest with me?"

"Sure."

"Do you think that perhaps a cigarette box might be the wrong idea? I mean, this is a young woman who...well, may not appreciate it."

Charlie wanted to laugh. Instead, he managed to keep a straight face and say, "Did you perhaps have something else in mind?"

Liam glanced down at his counter display. There sat the lovely little diamond lockets Elizabeth Bennet had mentioned a couple of weeks ago. The diamond was tiny, but visible, and although he wouldn't have time to have it engraved just the idea of a locket might be romantic enough to get by. "What would you say to the idea of...well, perhaps...a locket?"

"You mean like one of those?" Charlie pointed down to the lockets.

"Yes."

"I think that's the most romantic thing I've heard. I mean, you buy that and give your girlfriend a miniature picture of you that she can wear close to her heart...and she won't need music coming from a box because she'll hear it in her mind. I think it's a wonderful idea. I might even get one of those for Jane."

Liam slowly nodded his head. "Thanks for the advice, Charlie."

Charlie walked away and headed right for Elizabeth's office. He opened the door and said, "Lisa? You'll be getting the locket instead of a cigarette box."

Elizabeth took one phone call during the course of the day, and that was from her sister Lydia. Once again, her sister begged her to cover for her because she was going out with that fabulous boyfriend of hers.

"You'll have to let me meet him sometime," Elizabeth said. "I mean, you go on and on about this guy and I have yet to meet him."

"I didn't think you'd care," Lydia replied. "You've never really cared about what goes on in my life."

"I do care, Lydia. And all I want is to meet him."

"Perhaps you will soon. We've been talking about getting married, and I think tonight's the night he's going to propose. But first, he said he wants me to meet his sister."

"Why would you want to do that?"

"I don't know. I guess he's really close to his sister, that's all."

"What did you say this guy's name was again?"

"George--sorry, Elizabeth, I have to go now. He's waiting and we've got to go or we'll be late to the show. Bye! Don't forget to tell Mom and Dad that I'm with you!"

Elizabeth heard the phone click and sighed. How utterly Lydia not to mention his last name. She set the phone back on the desk and decided it was time to help out up front. From the sounds of business, it was beginning to pick up.

She looked inside the shop window, thrilled beyond belief at how well things seemed to be going. The shop was filled with customers. The employees were darting here and there, selling things at what would normally seem an alarming rate. At this pace, she thought, there might be nothing left in the store by closing.

"Mrs. De Bourgh?"

Catherine turned to look at the police officer who patrolled this part of town. She smiled. "Merry Christmas, Andrew," she said.

"Merry Christmas. When did you get out of the hospital?"

"Just this past hour."

"Are you sure you should be here? I mean, after collapsing from exhaustion, I would think this the last place you would want to be."

"Oh, Andrew, how could I not come by here? This shop is in my blood. Anyway, the doctor said I could stop by only if I didn't work, and I don't plan on it. I'll only be here for a quick visit and then I'll be heading home."

Although home was currently a newly-furnished apartment, it felt more like home than her grand place on Fifth Avenue ever had.

Since being in the hospital, Catherine had had all her belongings moved from the house into the apartment she'd arranged to lease. She'd contacted a lawyer about a divorce, and although Alfred was protesting the fact that she intended to take De Bourghs' and its income away from him, he had no legal basis to complain, as he'd sold it to her. Catherine had contacted Hannah to inform her of what was going on, but Hannah had been less interested in the fact that her parents were divorcing than in what it might mean for her holidays. Hannah wanted to stay with friends, and Catherine decided that it might be best if she did just that.

The realization that she was going to be alone for Christmas for the first time since she'd married Alfred had struck just that morning. Catherine had felt the depression settle over her again, until she received the small package from the shop. The little tree, with the heavy volume of Thackeray and the lovely note signed by all the employees (although who Richard Fitzwilliam could be escaped her) had lifted her spirits. She may not have her actual family close by, but she did have her employees, who were like family to her.

"Well, just be sure that you do take it easy...and have a merry Christmas," Andrew said.

"Thank you."

Catherine stared into the shop again. She couldn't believe how busy it was. She decided to go in after all, to see if there were anything light that she could do to help out. After all, it would never do for her employees to return home frazzled and exhausted on Christmas Eve.

Elizabeth locked the door behind the last customer to a small round of applause from the employees. Catherine de Bourgh laughed out loud. "It is a relief, is it not?" she asked.

"You can say that again," Liam said.

"How did we do, Charlotte?" Catherine asked, looking at the young woman who had been steadily tallying their sales for the evening. She added one more figure, the last sale, then answered.

"Ten thousand, four hundred and fifty-two dollars...and seventy-two cents."

There was a louder applause and cheer for that number, their highest total of the year easily and by far surpassing previous totals since the Depression hit.

"That's wonderful," Catherine said. "Everyone, you did a marvelous job today. I'm proud of all of you. You know...when I arrived earlier today, I was feeling a little sorry for myself...but now, I feel so good and I have all of you to thank. When I received your gift at the hospital, along with your note, I was so touched that you cared. And how could I stay there after that, when the best doctors could be found here in Liam and Charlie, and the best nurses in Elizabeth, Susan, and Charlotte?"

There was a hastily-cleared throat from Billy, wanting to know where his praise was.

"Oh...Billy. You know what I think of you." There was just enough sarcasm in the statement to cause one or two of the employees to cough in an attempt to cover laughter. "I wanted to tell you that although we've had our problems this year, I'm glad you've stuck by the store. And that said...I have a surprise for all of you!"

In her hands she held out envelopes...with a Christmas bonus inside. She handed each one out, and when she came to Charlie, she paused.

"Charlie, you know that I've been rough on you in the past...and I've insulted you quite a bit."

"Yes, ma'am."

"I hope that when you see your bonus, you know that I didn't really mean most of it."

"Thank you, Mrs. De Bourgh."

Catherine smiled at all of her employees. "Well, I think we can just leave redecorating the windows until after the holiday. I want all of you to..." She stopped, looking at Richard. "I'm sorry...I didn't realize that we had someone new here. What's your name, young man?"

Richard, flustered but pleased by the attention, smiled bashfully. "Richard, ma'am."

"He's a good boy," Billy said sparingly.

Catherine walked over to the counter and pulled out a bill from the register. She handed it to Richard. "I'm sorry I didn't have something for you before."

"Thank you, ma'am!" Before Richard could put the bill away, Billy had grabbed it out of his hand and looked at the amount.

"Too much," Billy mumbled, handing it back.

"As I was saying, I want all of you to enjoy your holiday, so I'll see you on Monday."

With loud chattering and cheer, the employees prepared to leave. Catherine waited and watched as one by one, they left. She asked Elizabeth if she were doing anything in particular that evening, but Elizabeth said she had a date.

Catherine grinned and remembered that Liam had mentioned he had a meeting with his friend.

One by one, the employees left the store. Catherine, who had been hoping that she would be invited to spend the evening with one of them, asked what plans each had. Billy and Charlotte were having dinner at her home, so he could meet her parents. Susan was spending the evening with her sister Frances. Charlie and Jane were spending an evening with family only, he'd mentioned, instead of having a big party. Liam was wrapping his friend's Christmas gift, and Elizabeth was waiting for him to finish.

Richard was the last of the others to leave, and he stopped to say something. "Mrs. De Bourgh, I just wanted to thank you for the lovely Christmas gift you gave me. It was extremely generous of you, especially since I've only been working here a short time."

"You're quite welcome...what did you say your name was again?"

"Richard."

"Yes, of course. You should hurry home and give that money to your mother so it doesn't get wasted."

"Oh, my family doesn't live here, ma'am."

"They don't?"

"No. They live in Albany."

"You mean you're all by yourself on Christmas Eve?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Catherine smiled. "I can't have an employee of mine spending the evening alone. We'll have dinner together, and you can tell me all about your family."

"I...thank you, ma'am."

Catherine called for a taxi, and the two headed for New York's finest restaurant for Christmas dinner.

Alone, Together

Posted on Friday, 12 February 1999

Elizabeth walked into the locker room to find Liam wrapping up his gift to her. She smiled. Charlie had turned out to be right...he was giving her the locket instead of the cigarette box.

Honestly, he hadn't needed to spend the money. She would've been happy with just about anything as long as it wasn't that cigarette box.

Liam looked up the moment he heard her come in. "I'll only be another minute or so, Miss Bennet," he said.

"Take all the time you need," she replied. "I see you took my advice and bought a locket."

"Yeah, well...I had someone point out that perhaps a cigarette box wasn't quite the thing."

Elizabeth took a narrow package out of her locker. It wasn't wrapped. "Could I get your opinion on something, Mr. Darcy?" she asked.

"Sure."

"Do you like this tie?" Elizabeth opened the box to show him the tie.

Liam looked at it and smiled. It was black with wide green stripes. "It's nice...who is it for?"

"It's for my boyfriend."

Liam was taken aback. "I didn't know you had a boyfriend."

Elizabeth nodded. "I do. I know that it might seem hard for you to believe that a man might actually find me attractive..."

"On the contrary, Miss Bennet, I can see why any man would find you attractive. Any man of sense, that is. I realize that most people would see your height and dismiss you for that, but sensible men would see your compassion and your love of children and your intelligence."

"Really?"

"Yes. You know, when I first started working here...there was a time when I found you quite appealing."

Elizabeth blushed. "You didn't need to say that."

"No, it's true. In the beginning, you bewitched me."

"Then all that changed when we stopped getting along," she said.

"Partially. But part of it was also that I got to know my girlfriend, and I devoted all my attention to her." Liam finished wrapping the package and headed for his locker to get out his coat. "Is it serious?"

"Very."

"Do you think he might marry you?"

"We haven't...talked marriage yet, but I have every hope that perhaps this time next year we'll be married. I don't intend to quit my job, though."

"I didn't think you would. And who knows? Perhaps this time next year, we'll both be married."

"You never know."

"I'm not saying that I'll definitely be married, but it's a distinct possibility."

"Actually, I think in your case it'll definitely happen."

Liam turned to face her. "How do you know that?"

"Well, I wanted to talk to you about that. Your girlfriend came to see me." Elizabeth smiled. She realized that this was a bit cruel to do, but she did need to get a little of her own back for his attitude toward her at the cafe last time. He'd certainly understand it, and he'd probably consider it a fine joke...eventually.

"She what?"

"She came to see me, and she was rather upset. You really shouldn't have told her who I was. She called me all sorts of dreadful names before I was able to set her straight about our relationship."

Liam frowned. "That doesn't sound like her at all."

"Oh, you don't need to worry. Once we got things straightened out, she was a pleasant sort."

Relieved that it had only been jealousy, he was now dying to know more about her. "Did she strike you as being rather intelligent? Witty? What did she look like?"

"All these questions...I didn't have a chance to hear about the intelligence, or the wit, but she did seem a bit depressed."

"Depressed? Why?"

"Well, she mentioned that she'd recently been fired from her job." Not a lie, but not exactly the truth. "She asked me how much you made, and when I told her, she was a bit worried. But then I mentioned that you were likely to get a bonus and a raise, and she felt much better."

Liam frowned. "This is so confusing...it really doesn't seem to match with the girl I've gotten to know through our letters."

"Oh...don't worry about that. I think she's just worried about the fact that it's tough to find a job these days. I mean, other than that, and...well, she was a bit short. I'd say about five feet tall. But if you were to choose between us, I mean, there would be no comparison. If I were a man, I'd take a person like Eunice Popkin over me any day."

Liam sat in a chair. "That's her name?"

"It's the one she gave to me."

"I just can't believe it..."

"The name bothers you?"

"No...no. I don't care about that. But this person you're describing just seems so wrong...I don't understand. She wrote such beautiful letters to me. Now I wonder if maybe she didn't just copy them out of a book. Maybe she did. One time, I thought her letter sounded an awful lot like Elizabeth Barrett Browning."

Elizabeth had indeed once quoted Browning, but she'd told him she was doing so. He just didn't remember that part.

He looked so unhappy. "And here I thought that she was everything I had come to want...and now I see the truth."

Elizabeth realized that this had been a bad idea. She should've just told him that she was the woman he was supposed to meet. "I'm sorry to be telling you this. I wish I didn't have to. You know...if I had known that you were interested in me, I might've responded. I did think you were attractive when we met, but then...well, there's no need to rehash the past. If we'd gotten together, perhaps we wouldn't have argued over your ties, we would've argued over how to decorate our apartment."

Liam sighed. "I almost wish we could. But...now we have to go. You've got a date, and so do I."

"Mr. Darcy...how about this? At eight o'clock, instead of Miss Popkin showing up, I'll show up."

"Please, Miss Bennet, I appreciate your efforts."

"And I'll say, my dear, darling Liam, take your key, open your post office box, take me out of my envelope and kiss me in front of everyone here at Bleeker's Cafe."

"Miss Bennet--" Liam stopped. What had she said? Bleeker's Cafe? How had she known where he was supposed to meet...

He looked into her eyes, dark, twinkling with suppressed humor...and then he noticed what she was holding in her hand.

A carnation.

It was her. It had been Elizabeth Bennet all this time who had been writing him those letters, who had been the woman he was supposed to meet at the cafe...and who he had subsequently insulted enough to cause her to take off without telling him who she was.

"Dear Friend," she murmured.

"You...it was you?"

She nodded. "Are you mad at me, for all of this?"

Liam thought for a moment. "I should be. I should be so upset that you were mean enough to string me along with this Popkin character...but I know why you did it." He smiled. "It's okay."

Elizabeth smiled. Liam had noticed it a couple of times before, but never before had it affected him in such a way...she had a beautiful smile.

"Well, now I know who was behind my buying that locket."

"You really didn't have to do it. I would've taken the cigarette box."

"You wouldn't have liked it. I would've felt bad."

"Did you really like that tie?" she asked.

He nodded. "It's brighter than the one I wore that day, though."

"It's okay. This place needs a little more color."

He laughed, very gently took her chin in his hands, and before she had time to blink he was kissing her.

She'd never been kissed before, and it was a heady feeling. Almost as though she were floating or something.

There was a rustling at the front door as it was being unlocked, but neither of them heard it as the kiss deepened.

"I think I left it back here." The door to the locker room opened and in walked Catherine with Richard, who had accidentally left his gloves behind. The two stood spellbound by the sight of Elizabeth and Liam in an embrace. Catherine coughed discreetly and the two almost jumped away from each other.

"Good evening, Miss Bennet, Liam."

Elizabeth was blushing, but Liam only looked amused. "Good evening, Catherine."

"We're just here to pick up some gloves. I take it the two of you were just leaving?"

"We were going to," Liam said.

"Good. And congratulations...to both of you."

Once Catherine and Richard were gone, Elizabeth frowned at the door they'd walked out of. "That's strange. She didn't seem at all surprised that we were here."

"Catherine knew I was meeting someone."

"Yeah, but how did she know..." Elizabeth paused, realizing that she'd talked about him often enough to be overheard by their boss, and Catherine was smart enough to figure out the pieces. "She's crafty."

"That's why she made this shop a success when the other shops failed," Liam said. "Where should we go?"

Elizabeth smiled. "I don't care, as long as we're together."

He kissed her again before they left the shop, on their way to Bleeker's Cafe for their first official date together.

A Dog to the Rescue

Posted on Monday, 15 February 1999

George's plan was simple. He had convinced Lydia that he was madly in love with her and wanted to get married. He told her that since her parents didn't approve of him that they would have to elope, and he suggested they go someplace romantic like New Jersey. (Not that New Jersey is all that romantic a place to most people, but Lydia had never left the state of New York and so leaving intrigued her.)

Lydia was a bit reluctant to get married without Kitty around to be her maid of honor, but George had convinced her that his sister Caroline would do just as well. Lydia's reluctance was of short duration, and she was soon as eager to be on the road as George and Caroline.

Before leaving the city, George would mail the package to Liam's post office box. The note was simple. It read, Remember Gina? Another lovely young lady about her age may very well suffer a worse fate unless you come up with $3 million fast. Her name is Lydia Bennet. Caroline had worried because the note made it quite clear who had taken off with Lydia, but George reminded her that they would've been the top suspects anyway--or at least, he would've been. Elizabeth Bennet was likely to remember Caroline's vow of vengeance and believe her to be involved, but since Caroline was to remain in sight of everyone, she would have to be exonerated.

Certain that Liam would risk anything for the woman he loved, they knew that he would come up with the money and that he did everything they asked him to do. No police, or Lydia dies, the second note they planned to send would read. The third note would simply tell him where to leave the money--in a window display at Hirsch and Company, in a black bag purchased there the day before. Caroline would then collect the money and head for their meeting place, where they would split the money, go their separate ways, and leave Lydia behind. After all, the only thing she could do was tell them who did it, and it would be clear who that was anyway. There was no reason, Caroline pointed out, to kill her. And George agreed, so the last note they devised would tell Liam where he could find Lydia.

That was the plan.

Things didn't quite work out that way.

Elizabeth and Liam had originally planned to go to Bleeker's Cafe, and did in fact go there. But when Elizabeth spied Mr. Bennet, looking at her and frowning, she knew something was wrong.

That's when Elizabeth remembered that she'd covered for Lydia. She was supposed to be with her sister, not with some handsome stranger.

"Hi, Dad," Elizabeth said reluctantly. "What are you doing here?"

"Elizabeth, where is Lydia?"

"I wish I could tell you," Elizabeth said. "She only asked me to cover for her."

"She's with that George person again, isn't she?"

"I think she said she was going to be with him."

Mr. Bennet swore under his breath and said, "I knew it."

"I don't know what you have against him. I mean, I know how she met him, which is why Mom's so set against it, but maybe he's not as bad as you seemed to think he was. I mean, just because you meet someone through the personal ads doesn't mean the person is a creep." Elizabeth turned and with loving eyes looked at Liam. "And since we're on that subject, I want you to meet someone. This is Fitzwilliam Darcy."

"Yes, I know. He's the man you met through some sort of ad."

"How did you know?" Elizabeth gasped.

"Honestly, Lisa, letting Charlie in on any type of secret guarantees it won't be kept, unless it's from your mother. How else did I know where I could find you?"

"Why did you want to know where I was?"

"Because Kitty let it slip that Lydia was meeting that George tonight, and that they were thinking of eloping. Your mother became hysterical, as usual, and insisted that I go looking for her. Since it is that George she's with, I agreed that I should look."

"Forgive me, sir, but why would you object to this man?" Liam asked. "Do you have an aversion to the personal ads as well?"

Mr. Bennet had to look up at Liam, but somehow it seemed to Elizabeth that he managed to make Liam seem the shorter of the two. "Hardly. But you did not meet George Wickham, and--"

Liam went cold and Elizabeth gasped. "George Wickham?" she whispered.

"Yes."

"Oh, my God," Liam breathed. "Did she say that Lydia was eloping?"

"Yes." Mr. Bennet was confused. "Do you know the man?"

"Quite well, unfortunately, but it's a tale for another time," Elizabeth answered for Liam. "Dad, Lydia could very well be in terrible danger."

"She is," Liam said. "Caroline Wickham is George's sister."

"I know. She told me," Elizabeth replied.

"No, Elizabeth, don't you remember? Caroline swore she'd get revenge on you for firing her. Her brother wants revenge on me...only God knows his reasons. More likely, he wants money. Caroline probably figured out that we were together and decided that if they took your sister, they could get money that way."

"But you refused your parents' offer. That scenario doesn't make sense."

"I would swallow my pride and go to them to help your sister. George knew that about me as well."

The impact of his words would come later. Right at that moment, Elizabeth knew that they had to find Lydia.

"Lisa, please, do you have any idea where they might be?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "I wish I did. Lydia never told me where she met him, or where they might be going. Did Kitty know?"

"Dragging information out of her was impossible. She was in such hysterics because she'd betrayed Lydia's trust that I couldn't take it. I just left to try and find her."

"Wait...Lydia met him at my apartment once," Elizabeth said. "And although she swore she didn't, I think she was meeting him there the other times as well. How she got in, I have no idea."

"I don't think they'd be there now," Liam said. "It's likely that he's taken off with her."

"Perhaps. But it's a start," Mr. Bennet said. "Come. I have my car."

George had wanted to leave right away, but Lydia had been in an amorous mood and had wanted to stay. George had tried to reason with her that it was her sister's apartment. He didn't seem to realize that that was Lydia's whole point. So George decided that half an hour wouldn't make a difference, and besides, he thought it would be sort of a kick as well. After all, this was the apartment of the witch who had fired his sister.

Downstairs, Elizabeth, Mr. Bennet, and Liam had just finished grilling Elizabeth's landlady, Mrs. Younge, about who she let in and out of Elizabeth's apartment. Mrs. Younge finally, after ten minutes, caved in and said that she figured it would be okay since she knew Lydia was Elizabeth's sister, and meant no harm.

"It's not Lydia we're worried about," Elizabeth grumbled, making a vow to herself that once this mess was over, she was looking for another apartment.

They hurried upstairs to the apartment. The door was unlocked, and although Elizabeth had wanted to go in first, both her father and Liam pushed her behind them to protect her.

She wouldn't want to admit it, but she was relieved they had. She wasn't sure she wanted to face a murderer.

George and Lydia had just gotten dressed when they heard the door open.

"I thought you said your sister was out for the evening," he hissed.

"She said she was," Lydia snapped back in a low voice.

George grabbed the gun he'd kept hidden earlier. Lydia screamed when he wrapped an arm around her waist and put the gun to her head. That immediately brought Mr. Bennet and Liam to Elizabeth's bedroom door.

"Stay back!" George shouted. "I'll kill her! I swear to God I will!"

"George, what are you doing?" Lydia screamed.

"Shut up!" he yelled.

"George, put the gun down. We'll let you go if you just release my daughter and put the gun down," Mr. Bennet said.

"I don't believe that for a minute," George said coldly. "Now get away from that door!"

"George, please," Lydia whispered in a whining voice. "Let me go."

"Not just yet, my sweetness. You're worth quite a bit of money to me."

"You'll rot in hell before I pay you a penny," Liam said.

"Not even to save the life of your dearest, loveliest Elizabeth?" a new voice said snidely. Caroline walked in, holding Elizabeth's arm in a none-too-gentle grip, a gun pointed at her.

"Elizabeth," Liam whispered.

"Typical men, aren't they, Elizabeth? Leaving you behind to protect you. In the future, gentlemen, remember that there's always somebody at your back."

Elizabeth easily could've broken the hold, but she was afraid of what would happen if she did.

Liam and Mr. Bennet were caught in the middle. Any sudden moves on their part could leave both Lydia and Elizabeth dead.

"Good timing on your part, Caroline dear," George said.

"The same can't be said for you, brother. What on earth kept you here so long?"

"I would think that much is obvious," Elizabeth snapped. "The two of them were in my bed. Lydia, how could you!"

"Lisa, I'm sorry--"

"Shut up," Caroline said, raising the gun a bit so Elizabeth would remember she was a captive here. "Now, I would suggest that the two of you slowly come out into this room and let my brother and Lydia pass. As soon as they're out this door and we have our car ready, I'll let Elizabeth go."

"Nonsense," George said. "She comes with us. She's far more valuable to Liam than Lydia would be."

"If you try to take either of them, I'll kill you," Liam said. "That's not a threat, George. It's a promise."

"And it would carry much more weight with me were it not for the fact that I'm the one holding a gun. Try not to worry, Liam. I'll try to have your darling Elizabeth back in at least the same shape as Gina was."

Liam knew he was being goaded. But he knew something else. "Try to upset me all you like, George, but kindly remember that my family isn't likely to care about either Elizabeth or Lydia if I'm dead."

"No...but I think Gina would."

"If you knew where she was."

That got George angry, because he'd been unable to figure out where Gina was, and Liam was right. "Get away from the door," Caroline said, realizing that the situation was rapidly spinning out of control.

Liam and Mr. Bennet backed away from the door, which George forced Lydia out of, making sure not to have his back turned to either man. Lydia struggled but failed. Elizabeth kept staring at Liam, afraid that it might be for the last time.

Caroline dragged Elizabeth out of her apartment door, hurrying her down the stairs but careful to make sure the gun was pointed where it would do the most good. George followed, making sure to keep his sights set on Liam and Mr. Bennet.

The stairs were poorly lit, and Caroline couldn't see what was waiting for her when she reached the bottom. When her foot touched down, it accidentally stepped on a dog's tail. The dog yelped, Caroline screeched, and Elizabeth took her opportunity. Caroline's grip was loosened by the dog's howl, and Elizabeth broke free and ran down the street. Caroline would've run after her, but the dog, enraged that Caroline had stepped on its tail, decided that her leg looked like something tasty.

Caroline screamed when doggy teeth sank into her leg. "Shoot it, George! Shoot this stupid mutt!" she shouted.

"Sandy!" A little girl's voice cried out. "Don't hurt Sandy!"

George tried to get his sister to stand still long enough so he could aim the gun, and that's when he made his mistake. He turned his back on the two men who had been waiting for such an opportunity, and they struck him from behind. Lydia fell to the floor, managing to grab the gun that had dropped. Caroline was in too much agony to do much of anything, and George was unconscious.

The dog finally let go of Caroline's leg and returned to the redheaded little girl with a smug look. "Sandy," the little girl sobbed, throwing her arms around the dog as her mother, who had walked out of her apartment to see what was going on, tried to shoo her into the house and away from this dangerous situation.

Liam looked at the little girl with a grin. "I'm going to buy that dog enough treats to last a lifetime," he said. "What a good dog."

"I don't think Annie will give him up. She's quite attached to him."

Liam looked up to see Elizabeth standing there with a policeman by her side. He smiled and knew that he'd never seen a more beautiful sight in his life. He let the policeman put handcuffs on George and Caroline, moving to take Elizabeth in his arms.

"I love you, Elizabeth," he said. "But I was so scared when--"

"I know, Liam. I thought the same thing...and I love you, too." She raised her mouth to his for a long, satisfying kiss...broken off when her father cleared his throat.

"I think perhaps you should come and meet my family before deciding that you want to marry into it," Mr. Bennet said.

"Dad!" Elizabeth groaned, but she was laughing and it seemed to empty the tension of the evening.

The Way It Was

Posted on Monday, 15 February 1999

Well, this is the conclusion of the story. I hope everyone enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it! The ending is dedicated to my parents, because today is their wedding anniversary. Twenty-four years and going strong--Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad!!

George Wickham was convicted of the attempted murder of Georgiana Darcy but the police, having closed Christie Carrington's death as a suicide, did not pursue murder charges. When added to the attempted kidnapping charges both he and his sister Caroline were convicted of, he was destined to spend the rest of his life in prison.

And a rather short life it was, too. He was killed three years following his sentencing, after it was discovered that he'd stolen some money from a man connected to the mob.

Caroline pleaded for mercy, swearing that George had coerced her into the kidnapping scheme and blackmailed her by threatening to reveal her affair with Alfred de Bourgh. Although the affair had already been revealed, Caroline's pleas worked--she received ten years. When she was released, she fled to Florida, vowing to find a wealthy and preferably old husband.

She was never heard from again.

Lydia Bennet was humiliated by the incident. Her father swore he would lock her up for the rest of her life for what she'd done. Lydia, however, tried to point out that she'd done nothing. It was then that Elizabeth very coldly asked what she'd been doing in her bedroom, and Lydia reddened.

It was decided by everyone involved that Lydia would greatly benefit from a year at a Swiss finishing school. A strict finishing school. Liam arranged everything, and Lydia went to Switzerland.

Six months into her stay, Lydia met a handsome but worthless young man quite by accident. He was the brother of one of her classmates, and within days she was madly in love. Fortunately for her, he was just as mad for her and they were married two months later.

Lydia and her husband spent most of their life together living with various relatives, enjoying the hospitality of others without ever giving in return. It suited them well.

Mr. and Mrs. Bennet continued to live in the apartment where they'd spent most of their married life. Mrs. Bennet continued on as she was, aggravated because her husband continued on as he was. Life, as far as Mr. Bennet was concerned, was good.

As for the people at the shop...

Charlotte Lucas married Billy Collins in September of the following year and quit her job at De Bourghs'. The news that their breadwinner was marrying infuriated her parents, who steadfastly refused to attend the wedding. The fact that Charlotte was defying her parents to marry Billy anyway sort of made Elizabeth shake her head, but it was her life.

Billy turned out to be a considerate husband, if a bit foolish. But Charlotte had married him knowing his faults and accepting them. She tried her best to make him look better, not only to his friends and co-workers when she saw them but also, later in life, to his children.

Susan Price stayed with De Bourghs' for several more years before she was offered a chance to attend college. Susan went happily, her younger sister Rebecca taking her place in her Aunt's life and affections. While at college, Susan met an idealistic young man named Sam Beckett and the two married a year later.

Richard Fitzwilliam worked his way very quickly from delivery boy to clerk, and eventually (to the chagrin of Billy Collins) to top salesman. In time, he became the manager of the store, which by then had changed its name and what it sold, and married a nice young lady named Rachel.

Danielle Gardiner spent a contented life with her husband and the Gardiners. To her surprise, very few people ever remembered that she was Georgiana Darcy. That didn't bother her. As far as she was concerned, Georgiana Darcy had actually died that day at the river and she, Danielle Gardiner, hadn't looked back.

Although she did maintain a relationship with her parents, her anger at them for disowning Liam instead of believing him after her supposed death prevented that bond from ever becoming close.

If Danielle chose not to stay close to her parents, she became closer than ever to her brother. Liam and Danielle managed to talk a great deal about the six years they spent apart. When Danielle's first child was born, the baby boy was named Fitzwilliam for her brother. She called him Fitz.

Catherine de Bourgh divorced Alfred just a few months after being released from the hospital. Alfred tried valiantly to prove that ownership of De Bourghs' was his. When this failed, he tried to sue Catherine to pay him a stipend each month.

He was laughed out of court, and was forced to live on whatever his daughter, Hannah, would give him. Hannah received a generous allowance from her mother until she married four years later, to a nice, bland young man of good family and fortune.

Catherine remained in semi-retirement for another seven years, guiding Elizabeth as she learned the ropes of ownership. When she decided to officially retire, she sold the shop to Elizabeth. Catherine never married again, although she did, toward the end of her life, have the good fortune to find a man who loved her. He was able to accept the fact that she did not want to remarry, and they lived together in peace until she died of a stroke in 1961.

Elizabeth Bennet married Liam Darcy on Valentine's Day in a simple ceremony. The ceremony, for all its simplicity, was considered extremely romantic. They spent a week on their honeymoon and then returned to the shop. They were not long in working together, for Liam accepted his father's job offer, and was promoted often due to his intelligence and skill. Eventually, however, he and his father had a parting of ways, although a far more congenial one than before.

Soon after Liam's split from his father's company, Elizabeth gave birth to their first child, a beautiful little girl, soon followed by two rambunctious little boys. It was around this time that Catherine asked Elizabeth if she would like to buy the store, and after considering it and talking with her husband, she accepted the offer. Although Catherine's offer was for Elizabeth only, both Elizabeth and Liam put their money into the shop. It was only right, since they were equals in everything.

After they bought the store from Catherine, Elizabeth and Liam decided to stay on the executive end of the business and promoted Richard Fitzwilliam to manager. They also decided to expand. They bought the tiny bookstore next door and turned the entire shop into a bookstore. After getting Catherine's permission, they renamed the store to something they thought would catch on quite well, and naturally enough, it did.

They called their store The Shop Around the Corner. It's still there today.

The End.

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