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Chapter 13

Posted on Sunday, 10 August 2003

The next evening much bustle and excitement ensued above stairs at Waverley as everyone dressed for Colonel Forster's ball. Maria ran back and forth between her chamber and those of her sister and Lizzy, asking first one thing and then another. Should she wear her pearl necklace or her gold locket? Could she borrow Charlotte's amber bracelet? What about her hair? Had the maid styled it in a pleasing array or should she make her begin all over?

"Maria, please," Lizzy laughed. "You must calm down or you will have no energy left for dancing."

"Oh, Lizzy, do you think any of the officers will ask me to dance?"

"Of course they will."

"Truly? You believe they truly will?"

"I do. Now, go and see if you can help Charlotte and don't pester her with any more questions. She has coughed very little today and I do not want to hear her commence."

The young girl ran down the hall and Lizzy stepped into her gown while her maid fastened the back. She had just turned around to face the mirror when Maria returned once more.

"Oh, Lizzy, that colour is lovely on you."

"Thank you, Maria," Lizzy smiled, inspecting the skirt of the light rose gown. She sat before the mirror so that the maid could finish her coiffure. "I thought you were going to help Charlotte."

"I am, but I saw Mr. Darcy in the hall. He bid me bring you this message. He asks that you meet with him downstairs on the terrace before we leave for the ball. Oh, Lizzy, he looks so handsome tonight. Upon my honour, if he were not so fierce, I would deem him quite the catch for you!"

Lizzy rolled her eyes and dismissed the young girl, reminding her not to upset her sister. She wondered what Darcy wished to see her about and hoped there was nothing wrong. This ball held enough trepidation for Lizzy - what with it being Charlotte's first outing at night since being so very ill, Mr. Collins being in attendance, Darcy and Wickham attending the same function, and most of all, the evening when she would obtain the final release from her attachment to Wickham. If she had felt any concern for his feelings before, since reading Darcy's letter, those misgivings had long vanished. Now, she had only to be ashamed of any connection with him and could not wait until it was all put far behind her.

She had not seen Darcy all day, for he had arisen early and left Waverley before Lizzy had breakfasted. Mr. Collins informed the morning table that Mr. Darcy had an urgent letter to post - the thought of it being the one to Bingley that would correct things with Jane giving Elizabeth much hope - and another errand, as well as plans to meet with Colonel Fitzwilliam that afternoon. Mr. Collins was quite pleased that he should announce Mr. Darcy's schedule for the day, as though he had become the gentleman's confidante, privy to all his plans. He simpered and preened as he drank his morning coffee and reminded Elizabeth of how far his high connections would eventually carry him. She said nothing, but just allowed him to talk unimpeded. It was all so much simpler that way.

Lizzy was somewhat relieved at Darcy's absence, as she now felt a bit shy at the thought of seeing him again. I have never been shy in my life, she thought, why now? At the recollection of all that had passed between them the night before, she wondered how he truly felt about her now. He could only have been shocked when she told him she was no longer engaged to be married. Could that be why he had made no response? Did he now think of her as a fallen woman just as Wickham had warned? Was she to be marked by scandal even though the attachment was unknown by others? Why did she care so much what Darcy thought of her? To think a gentleman would renew his offer after being refused in such a way as she had rebuffed Mr. Darcy was impossible. He could have any woman he chose; she entertained no serious hope that he would ever come begging for her hand a second time. Lizzy decided to put all thoughts of Darcy aside and concentrate on the evening. She would see Wickham alone as quickly as possible and secure her release and then she would spend the evening dancing. She had made a huge mistake, but dwelling on it would do no good. This was an evening for enjoyment.

Now with a final pat at her curls, she left her chamber and after making sure that Charlotte was progressing in her toilette, she descended the stairs. Unseen by her, Darcy stood in the doorway of the library and watched her come down. She was even lovelier than she had appeared last night in the moonlight. Her throat and shoulders appeared almost luminous contrasted against the lush rose color of her gown. He felt his heart beat faster just to look at her.

When she reached the final steps, Darcy stepped forward and offered his hand. "Miss Bennet," he said, with a bow.

She responded in kind and allowed him to lead her across the great hall and out onto the terrace.

"You look especially well tonight."

She murmured her thanks and then said, "I was told you wished to see me."

"Yes, I have something for you." He reached in his pocket and held out a small box. Lizzy took it, looking at him with wonder in her eyes.

She could not help but gasp when she opened it, for inside lay her garnet cross. "My necklace! Mr. Darcy, how did you find this?"

"I cannot take the credit. It was stolen from one of the gypsies and then, as luck would have it, the youth tried to pawn it off the innkeeper in Hunsford Village. The constable contacted Lady Catherine, who wrote to me. Here, let me fasten it for you." He took the delicate chain from her and placed it around her neck.

"I assume you are responsible for its repair, sir?"

"Tis the least I could do." His fingers lingered against the back of her neck as he worked the clasp. Her skin was so very soft and a dark curl hung enticingly near. A light breeze blew through it, causing it to sway and her scent to wash over him. How he would have loved to have run his fingers through her hair, to have undone her curls and seen them fall in all their glory.

"I thank you, sir, very much," she said then, bringing Darcy back from his reverie. "I confess I feared that I would never see this necklace again and it does have great significance for me."

"Your father gave it to you, I believe."

"Yes. I wish I had some way to repay you for your kindness."

"Then do me the honour of dancing the first with me."

Lizzy's eyes sparkled and she smiled, "I thank you, sir, I shall." Without thinking, she reached up and smoothed an unruly curl blown across his forehead by the breeze. Why she did so, Elizabeth did not know; it was an action as natural as breathing. He, in turn, responded without forethought; catching her hand, he placed his lips against the inside of her wrist.

"Elizabeth," he breathed, his voice low and deep.

"Mr. Darcy! The carriage awaits us!" Mr. Collins' dreaded voice bellowed from just inside the doorway. "Have you seen my cousin, sir?"

Fortunately, Darcy stood with his back to the house and with Lizzy directly in front of him, Mr. Collins had not been privy to their encounter. Now, they both turned and walked toward him, appearing to the parson much as they always did. Little could he know that the very air between them crackled with exhilaration. Lizzy's wrist retained the warmth of Darcy's kiss and she was grateful when the breeze fanned the blush from her cheeks. He acknowledged the tumult of her presence by an even deeper repression of his emotions. Thus, Darcy appeared quite stern as he informed Mr. Collins that he had ordered his carriage for the evening in addition to Lady Catherine's. He strongly suggested that Miss Lucas and Miss Bennet accompany him so that Mrs. Collins would not feel crowded on the drive.

"A very sensible and generous offer, Mr. Darcy," Mr. Collins fawned, congratulating himself that Brighton society could not help but note the arrival of two grand carriages from Waverley. "Your great condescension and liberality can only be compared to that of your esteemed aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh."

"It is kind of you, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth added. "And cousin, with two carriages, you may take Charlotte home early if she begins to tire."

It was apparent that this idea did not set well with the vicar, but he could hardly refute it. He assisted his wife into the closed carriage and they set out for the ball. Elizabeth was pleased to see that Mr. Darcy's landau had the hood down and she and Maria sat beside the other, while Darcy occupied the seat across from them directly behind the driver. Nervousness caused the younger girl to chatter more than usual, but it solved the dilemma of conversation between the other two. Lizzy need only answer in monosyllables while Darcy was free to maintain his silent stare.

The ball was held at a local assembly hall, as Colonel Forster's residence was not adequate to house this large a congregation. The assembly hall in Brighton, however, was far greater than that of Meryton, much larger and more ornate. Floor to ceiling windows surrounded the great round saloon and tonight they were all open to admit the warm evening breeze blowing in off the sea. Outside the hall was covered with a semi-circular porch supported by huge white columns. The great round dome beckoned from afar with its dancing, sparkling lights.

Mrs. Forster had ordered the tables adorned with local blossoms artfully arranged amid sea grasses and the china and crystal settings twinkled and glistened in the glow of the candlelight. Although it was not as grand as the Netherfield Ball, the surroundings promised to provide a more exotic setting for the community of finely dressed ladies and gentlemen, a great host of the latter who were garbed in their regimental dress uniforms. The musicians sat on a somewhat raised dais and when the party from Waverley arrived, the violinists were already tuning their strings. After greeting Colonel and Mrs. Forster, Darcy escorted both Elizabeth and Maria into the ballroom and were soon spotted by Colonel Fitzwilliam.

"Miss Bennet and Miss Lucas! How delightful you both appear! I hope you have both come eager to dance and that I may claim your hand for the first, Miss Bennet?" the colonel said.

"She has promised the first to me," Darcy answered for her, standing close beside her as though he personally would repel all who sought her hand.

The colonel smiled and turned to Maria, "And are you likewise engaged, Miss Lucas?"

The young girl turned three shades of pink and cast her eyes to the floor before shaking her head and murmuring, "No, sir, I am not engaged."

Lizzy beamed in approval as the colonel escorted Maria to the floor, grateful for his attentions to her timid little friend. Darcy took her hand and led her to the place beside them; as the music began, Lizzy felt younger and more light-hearted than she had in months. During this dance Darcy rarely spoke, much as he had done when they had danced together at Netherfield, but it did not bother Lizzy tonight, for he smiled often and there existed between them a natural grace and communication that seemed to have no need for words. The beginning reel lasted nigh onto half an hour, but when it ended Lizzy felt no need to rest. She could have persisted in such communion with him for the remainder of the evening.

While refreshing themselves at the punch bowl, Lizzy and Maria were surprised when approached by old friends from Meryton, Mrs. Goulding and Mrs. Long. They had been much in conversation with Charlotte while the girls were dancing and explained that they were come to Brighton to partake of Mr. Russell's famous sea potions, as Mrs. Goulding was suffering from rheumatism and Mr. Long's gout was acting up. In fact, the latter sat against the wall on a chair with his affected foot propped upon a stool. Lizzy noted that Charlotte was imprisoned beside him and suffering through one of his long-winded monologues in between puffing on his ever present cigar, a definite social faux pas. She excused herself from the ladies and made her way to the side of Mr. Collins, who was waxing eloquent to Colonel Forster on his favourite subject, the chimneys at Rosings Park.

"Mr. Collins, may I speak with you?" she interjected at the first moment he paused to take a breath. When he gave her his attention, she alerted him to his wife's unhealthy position and urged him to rescue her. "I cannot believe Mr. Long is smoking in the presence of a lady. It will not be long before Charlotte is consumed with coughing if you do not remove her from upwind of Mr. Long's cigar."

Although he complained at having to cut short his entertainment of Colonel Forster, the vicar did accompany Lizzy to his wife's side wherein he occupied the gentleman's attention while Lizzy escorted her to the opposite side of the room. She had already begun to cough slightly.

"Charlotte, why did you not excuse yourself from Mr. Long's presence?"

"That was my desire, Elizabeth, but he was quite persistent in detailing his own health complaints to me."

"You are far too polite. You should have departed when he first sat down. Here, this looks like a comfortable spot away from the draughts. I shall fetch you another cup of punch and soon return."

"I need no more to drink, Lizzy, please. Do not fuss over me. Enjoy yourself as you were doing. I could not help but notice how well you and Mr. Darcy danced together. Were my eyes deceiving me or did he actually smile at you several times?"

Lizzy smiled and shrugged, but made no answer. Just then she heard her name called and turned to see Lydia striding across the room. "Lizzy! Charlotte! Is not this great fun? I have lost count of how many officers I have promised to dance with! How do you like my gown? Does not this green color set off my eyes? You look very nice, tonight, Lizzy. Is that a new gown? You must promise me that you will not monopolize Wickham, for I wish to dance with him, too, especially when they play the waltz!" The girl went on and on, not pausing for even a breath until the first notes of the next number began and Denny appeared to claim her as his partner. Lizzy and Charlotte simply laughed, for there was little else that they could do where Lydia was concerned.

"I do hope my sister dances on the opposite side of the room from Mr. Darcy," Lizzy said, "for I fear she has not yet learned to tame her exuberance any more so than she exhibited at Mr. Bingley's ball."

"And Mr. Darcy disapproves of youthful exuberance?" Charlotte asked.

"Charlotte, I disapprove of Lydia when she carries it to such excess, and yes, she does fail to meet with Mr. Darcy's approval. I do not blame him. Such censure is correct, even to be sought, only I wish it were not my sister's behaviour that merits it, for she brings disgrace upon my entire family as well. If only my parents had taken a firmer hand with her."

"Do not worry yourself, Elizabeth. Lydia seems quite popular here and if I am not mistaken, Mr. Darcy's attention appears to be concentrated squarely upon another person tonight. I doubt that he is even aware that your sister is in attendance." With a slight nod of her head Charlotte indicated that her friend look in a certain direction, and when she did, there was Darcy standing against the wall, steadfastly gazing upon her. She could feel the intensity of his stare across the entire room, willing her to come to him.

"Excuse me, Charlotte," she murmured and left her friend behind, walking straight toward Darcy. She was almost there when a man in uniform stepped in front of her and bowed.

"Miss Bennet," Wickham said. "How lovely to see you." He took her hand and kissed it before she realized what he was doing.

"Mr. Wickham," she responded, withdrawing her hand in obvious distaste, and then in almost a whisper, she added, "Where and when may I speak to you privately?"

"I do apologize, but I have no time for conversation at the moment. Mrs. Forster commands my presence."

"But . . ." Lizzy was left in mid-sentence and mid-floor as she watched him quickly retreat to the side of their hostess. When she turned back to Darcy, he met her look with his angry dark countenance of old. There was no mistaking that he had seen Wickham's greeting. Just as Lizzy began to walk toward him, she was once again stopped, this time by Mrs. Goulding, who insisted on wondering aloud about the remote possibility of Jane's securing Mr. Bingley. As Lizzy dreaded for Darcy to hear such public gossip, she steered the older lady toward the opposite side of the room, finally depositing her at Charlotte's side.

Colonel Fitzwilliam then asked Lizzy to dance, as did Denny and Lt. Sanderson. It was quite some time before she even had time to look for Darcy. Between dances she did attempt to speak to Wickham again, but each time he managed to elude her presence, dancing often with Mrs. Forster or with Lydia. Was he trying to avoid her in particular, she wondered.

It was not long after this that the musicians began the infamous first waltz. A buzz of excitement swept over the crowd and there was much talking behind fans and raising of eyebrows, wondering who would be the first couple to exhibit themselves in such a familiar embrace called for by the waltz. About seven bars into the song, Wickham led Mrs. Forster to the floor, took her into his arms and began moving to the music. A great swell of oohs and aahs accompanied them and then gradually other couples bravely joined in. Soon a great amount of dancers filled the floor, swaying to the lilting beat of three-quarter time.

"Well, Miss Bennet," Darcy said, "will you entrust me with the honour of this dance?"

Unaware that he was even nearby, Lizzy was quite surprised not only to discover him standing directly behind her, but at his request. "Are you much acquainted with the waltz, sir?"

"A little," he replied, escorting her to the floor. He gathered her into his arms then and began leading her around the floor in perfect step. Lizzy had no difficulty in following him, although she was somewhat flustered when she first felt his warm hand encircling her waist and drawing her close. The strength of his presence and the command with which he held her allowed him to guide her where he would. The music and whirl of candlelight as he turned her round and round, along with the almost perfect way their bodies moved together proved quite intoxicating. Lizzy thought she had never experienced anything more exciting than waltzing with Darcy. She silently blessed the person who had invented such a means by which two people could hold each other in such an intimate manner in public and to the accompaniment of such beautiful music. How she wished this dance would never end!

But end it did and in the most unfortunate of circumstances, for when the last note sounded, Darcy and Elizabeth found themselves bowing to each other immediately next to Mrs. Forster and Wickham. Before Darcy could lead Lizzy from the floor, Mrs. Forster exclaimed, "Why, Mr. Darcy, I see that you are an excellent dancer! I had no idea any man here could best Mr. Wickham at the waltz, but I do declare I have never seen such superb dancing. Wickham, you could take lessons from this gentleman."

Neither of the men said a word. Darcy glowered at Wickham and then turned his face from him, while Wickham frowned and looked at the floor. Lizzy's joyous mood evaporated at the awkward, angry encounter. Mrs. Forster was completely oblivious of what she had caused and continued to chatter and flirt, doing her utmost to cajole Darcy into asking for her hand during the next waltz. He did not respond, but bowed stiffly to the lady and stalked to the other side of the room. Mrs. Forster seemingly did not suffer from his slight, as it was highly unlikely that she even observed it, for she was a woman so caught up in her own vanity she could not fathom any man who was not besotted by her charms. She made her way to the musician's stand to instruct them to employ great haste in playing another waltz. Wickham and Lizzy were left standing next to each other. Her eyes had followed Darcy, concerned at his anger, and Wickham had not missed her distress.

"Shall we take some air, Miss Bennet?" he asked, indicating that they retire to the covered porch just outside the hall. "It will provide a quieter place for conversation."

Lizzy continued to watch Darcy's retreating back and then with a sigh, she allowed Wickham to lead her from the room. Once they were outside, she noticed they were quite alone, but still she walked to the farthest corner to be completely out of hearing distance of any other guests.

"Sir, you cannot help but know why I wished to speak to you."

"I assume it is to give me your decision about our engagement."

Lizzy took a deep breath, but her tone was even and direct. "It is. Since our last conversation I have not changed my mind. My decision remains unaltered. I no longer wish to marry you."

"Well, judging from your behaviour this evening, I must say that answer is no surprise. No one could witness your repeated dancing with Mr. Darcy and not see that your intentions are now bent in that direction. Tell me, have you succeeded in wrangling a proposal from him yet, or must you charm him with your wiles a bit longer?"

"Sir, you are quite mistaken! I have no designs upon Mr. Darcy and I resent such inference."

"Oh, come now, Eliza. You are not talking to a novice here. I am well aware that he is the best catch in the county. You cannot expect me to believe that you have not imagined yourself mistress of Pemberley time and time again. Believe me, I have watched women throw themselves at Fitzwilliam Darcy all my life, but let me warn you, so far none have succeeded. However, from the way I've seen him regard you tonight, you might just have a chance, although you may have to sweeten the offer to entice him to marry so far beneath himself."

"You are insulting, sir!" Lizzy took a step to move past him, but he caught her by the arm and pulled her back.

"Not so fast, Eliza. We are not through."

"I have nothing more to say to you and you can certainly say nothing that I wish to hear."

"You forget, my dear, I have not yet released you from your obligation. You will listen to me and you will answer my inquiries. Is it Darcy you are after or is it Colonel Fitzwilliam? I saw the two of you together in town the other day and you looked quite cozy. Was it truly necessary for him to stand so close to you? Do not use the excuse that he was assisting you into the carriage, for you are a healthy girl and have never needed the prolonged assistance he provided. What is your plan with the good colonel? Are you keeping him in hand in case you fail to land Darcy? Even though he is the younger son, your rank would certainly rise in such a marriage. Why then, you can claim connection with an earl and forget your relatives in trade, can you not?"

Lizzy was incredulous! She could not take in how twisted and mercenary his thoughts were, how utterly scheming and deceitful his accusations. Her shock and anger were such that she found it hard to breathe. Never had he spoken to her with such cruelty or rudeness. Never had he been so completely himself in her presence. "Mr. Wickham, you accuse me of despicable acts and motives. They are not even worthy of denial, but I will deny them utterly and completely. I do not propose trapping either Mr. Darcy or Colonel Fitzwilliam into marriage."

"But they are both enamored of you. Any fool can see it - especially Darcy. Tell me, how would he take the news that you have secretly engaged yourself to me, the man whom his father loved like a son and the man to whom Darcy denied a valuable living? Do you think that bit of information would please him, Eliza?"

"I understand that you refused the living, sir, and that you were well compensated for it. I will hear no more of your untruths, for I have the whole of the story from Mr. Darcy."

"Aha! So you are close enough that he has told you his side of the story. And of what else has he informed you?"

"That you behaved in a most dishonourable way with Miss Darcy, that you attempted an elopement with her just to avenge yourself on her brother. What have you to say for yourself in that regard?"

Wickham actually managed to look taken aback that Darcy had revealed this episode to her. He had not thought Darcy would openly share his sister's humiliation with anyone. He must truly be serious about Elizabeth to disclose such mortification.

"It is just as well that you do not deny it, Mr. Wickham, for I would not believe you. We can have no further words to say to each other."

She attempted to brush past him, but once again he stopped her. "I beg to differ, Eliza. I have much more to say and when I am through, you will regret your inconstancy."

"What do you mean, sir? You have no means by which you may compel me to marry you!"

"Do not be too sure of that, my dear." He then turned on his heel and rushed inside, leaving her standing there alone, confused and concerned.

"Oh!" she cried, breathing deeply and attempting to calm her demeanor before returning to the ball. What could Wickham have meant? Surely he did not think she would consent to remain in this sham of an engagement. There could not exist any way in which she would be forced to do so, or could there? Her letters! Elizabeth suddenly thought of how she had written to him while they were apart - would he stoop so low as to threaten her with exposure of said documents? She gasped at the very thought and, suddenly feeling alone and fearful in the darkness of the porch, she began to tremble. Quickly, she made her way to rejoin the warmth inside.

The musicians had ceased playing and the crowd had now somewhat hushed as Colonel Forster stood before them on the dais. He put out his hands to quiet the entire throng and cleared his throat. "My friends and neighbors, I stand before you with an important announcement - an announcement of some surprise, but one in which we can surely rejoice. My young officer here, Mr. Wickham, has just told me . . ." he broke off and motioned for the man to join him on the platform. "It gives me great pleasure to inform you that Mr. George Wickham and Miss Elizabeth Bennet are engaged to be married!"

A great swell of astonishment swept over the assembly. They not only turned to look at each other in surprise, but their eyes searched for the bride. Where was she? And why did she not join Mr. Wickham? Was she that timid? They grew silent once again when it was apparent Colonel Forster had more to say.

"Not only is the happy couple engaged, but I have just learned they have been secretly thus betrothed since early March!"

Now the entire room was abuzz with talk and whispers. Raised eyebrows and knowing glances accompanied furtive looks and frowns, as well as much raucous laughter from the men and nervous twitterings from some of the women. A cold mask descended upon Mrs. Forster's face, and Lydia burst into tears.

"How could Lizzy do that to me? She knew I fancied Wickham!" she wailed.

"Oh, do be quiet!" Mrs. Forster hissed.

Beads of perspiration popped out on Mr. Collins' forehead and he began to flutter around, muttering, "Oh dear! Oh dear! The talk this will cause! It cannot do my reputation any good. How could my cousin engage herself in such a manner? Secret engagements are in the same league with intrigues. What will Lady Catherine say when she hears this news?"

Charlotte took no notice of him. She stood and craned her neck in search of Elizabeth. Maria's eyes had widened at the news and she began to giggle, all smiles at the thought of her friend being the center of such a romance. Colonel Fitzwilliam's jaw had dropped at the announcement and a serious frown darkened his face. He immediately began looking through the crowd for Darcy, and when he spotted him against the far wall, their eyes met and the colonel made haste to push his way through to his side, for there was no mistaking the vehement anger so very evident upon Darcy's countenance.

Elizabeth had just stepped inside the saloon when the announcement reverberated in her ears like a blast of cannon. She could not have been more shocked if actual artillery had gone off amid the crowded throng! How could Wickham have done such a monstrous thing? She staggered back against the window casement and her first impulse was to climb through the opening and run as far as she could. Suddenly conscious of those around her turning to smile with their congratulations, however, deterred any thought of escape. She found herself being propelled toward the center of the great room, pushed and pulled by friendly hands and urged to join Wickham on the stage.

"And here is the blushing bride-to-be!" Colonel Forster merrily intoned, motioning to Wickham to assist Elizabeth in stepping up on the dais. "Come now, man, bring your lovely lady up here so that we may offer our felicitations!"

No matter how Elizabeth attempted to refuse such recognition, the crowd was adamant that she stand before them and with their goading from behind and Wickham and Colonel Forster's outstretched hands pulling at her, she had no choice but to take her place between the men, above the crowd, her discomfiture evident for all to see.

She glared at Wickham, but he was all smiles, basking not only in the undivided attention of all present, but at his one-upmanship of her. She would be his wife, now. There was no getting around it. Since their secret was made known to all of society, no woman in her right mind would willingly enter into a public scandal of this magnitude by denying it. Lizzy's mind was all a jumble as her thoughts darted frantically, seeking some avenue of escape. What could she do? How could she extricate herself from this nightmare? When Colonel Forster began to speak once again, she could not comprehend his speech.

"And now, let us hear a word or two from the happy couple. Mr. Wickham, what do you have to say for yourself?"

Wickham stepped forward, smiling and looking bashful in that self-deprecating way he had that had endeared him to the hearts of so many women. "Sir, I can only say that I count myself the most fortunate of men to have secured the hand of Miss Bennet. She is a prize I have long sought and my only regret is her insistence that we keep our news private for so long. I am now the happiest of men to be able to share with all of you the great joy I feel in revealing that Miss Bennet has pledged herself to be my wife. She is a woman of unequaled intelligence and integrity as well as charm and I am quite sure she will please me, and I might add, already has, as no other woman could ever do."

These remarks were met with much applause and knowing winks among some of the men, as well as laughter. It is to be noted that not all men present had such a reaction, for there were two in particular on whose faces smiles did not appear, but rather angry expressions most foul. Colonel Fitzwilliam gritted his teeth; Darcy coiled his hands into fists.

Colonel Forster then suggested that the happy couple be allowed to lead the next dance by taking a few steps alone before the audience and he recommended that the musicians play another waltz. "I am not up on these latest steps, but my wife informs me that the waltz is the most romantic of dances," he said with a laugh.

As the song began, the crowd parted to allow the two sufficient room to perform and Wickham offered his hand to Elizabeth to assist her in descending the raised area. I cannot do this, she thought. I will not be subject to such degrading manipulation by this man! I care not what the cost may be, I shall not be forced into such a union! Instead of taking Wickham's hand, she brushed past him and addressed Colonel Forster.

"Sir, if I may, I should like to say something."

"What?" The colonel was caught by surprise that a woman would wish to speak publicly, but he quickly recovered and gallantly quieted first the musicians and then the crowd. "This is somewhat unusual, but the bride wishes to make some remarks. I suppose we should not be surprised, as Miss Bennet is known for her cleverness and intelligence, as well as her beauty. Yes, Wickham was a lucky man the day you decided to accept him, Miss Elizabeth. What do you have to say to us?"

Lizzy stepped forward and although her throat was exceedingly dry, she forced herself to swallow. She tried mightily to quell her shaking hands, but to no avail. At last she clasped them together and said, "I thank you, Colonel Forster, for your kind remarks and all of you for your congratulations . . . but I fear they are both given prematurely and in error."

A low murmur of surprise struck the crowd. Lizzy swallowed again and raised her voice once more. "It is true that Mr. Wickham and I entered into an engagement some months ago, but as I told him more than a week ago, I cannot marry him. The attachment is broken and at my doing."

Without another word, Lizzy climbed down from the stage and ran from the room. At first silence covered the room and then the crowd erupted in an uproar, stunned by such public disgrace, and alive with suspicion and gossip. Colonel Forster was flabbergasted but when he turned to confront Wickham, the man was nowhere to be seen. He, too, had vanished. Mrs. Forster quickly instructed the musicians to play and so the chaotic circumstances were made even more so by the addition of strings and horns, which only caused the whispered outrage to grow louder. Now, one had to shout in order to be heard above the din.

Sweat drenched Mr. Collins' forehead and began to run down his face and beneath his neck cloth as he mopped his head valiantly with his handkerchief . "Oh no! Oh no! What can cousin Elizabeth be thinking of to jilt Mr. Wickham in such a public manner? She will bring indescribable scandal upon our heads! What shall we do?"

"We shall find Lizzy and take her home, Mr. Collins. Immediately!" Charlotte announced this edict with stronger force than she had ever employed before in speaking to her husband.

"Of course! That is the very thing to do. We must remove her from society and first thing tomorrow we must send her packing to Longbourn. We cannot afford to be seen in her company nor allow her to remain at Waverley. Oh, the dishonour she brings upon not only us but upon our noble patroness!"

Charlotte turned to her husband then and drew very close, speaking distinctly and directly into his face. "Mr. Collins, I will not hear another word spoken against Elizabeth. Do you understand? Find her and bring her to me. I shall be waiting in the carriage. And do not plan on riding with us, for I will not subject Lizzy to your insulting remarks. I repeat, do you understand?"

"Mrs. Collins!" he cried, completely shaken by her outburst.

"Not another word!" she said evenly, staring him down, her large brown eyes refusing to blink, daring him to repudiate her, a challenge the man was not brave enough to accept. As he backed away, she left the room, while her husband nervously sought Elizabeth. Where had all these changes come from? First his cousin and now his wife - how had these submissive women he thought he knew become so altered, so utterly uncontrollable overnight?

Darcy and Fitzwilliam, meanwhile, had kept their eyes on Wickham and followed him outside. As he descended the steps and made his way across the drive, the two men quickly caught up with him; one on either side, they escorted him into the shadows around the side of the building.

He protested their handling, but to no avail. With a verbal onslaught, Colonel Fitzwilliam lit into Wickham, accusing him of trickery, deception and willful destruction of a lady's good name. Darcy said not a word, but stood close, his presence powerful and menacing in its anger.

"You will say nothing derogatory about Miss Bennet in the future, do you understand?" the colonel barked. "In fact, you will remain silent whenever her name is introduced into any conversation. Is that absolutely clear?"

"What gives you the right to make any such demand?" Wickham shouted.

"The right of a gentleman, something of which you have no understanding, and also the right as your superior officer. You are through, Wickham! Can you grasp the significance of what I am saying? Your career in the militia is over. I shall immediately inform Colonel Forster of your past dishonourable behaviour with Georgiana, of your profligate gaming debts, brawls and intrigues with young women from Derbyshire to Meryton, and now Brighton. You shall soon find yourself booted from the militia and utterly devoid of any future. Darcy and I have spent the last two days canvassing Brighton and we have discovered how much debt you have already encumbered in the short time of your residence here. Without the ability to claim your commission, you will soon find yourself hauled into prison until you can make good your arrears."

Wickham began to sweat, his brow knit in a frown, his eyes darting back and forth between the two men. "Oh, I see what this is all about. You would blacken my name because the both of you have designs of your own on Eliza Bennet. Tell me, to which of you has she promised herself, for it is plain to see that she threw me over to make a more advantageous match. It must be you, Darcy, for the colonel is but a younger son. I'm sure your fortune proved a much greater draw than his father's title or my humble offer." He could see Darcy's jaw tighten at the very mention of her name and knew that he had struck home. He began to laugh and said with a sneer, "When you take her in your arms, however, do remember this. I had her first."

That was when Darcy hit him! And hit him he did - Wickham went down like a rag doll, collapsing in a most unbecoming sprawl and out cold. Darcy gave him not another look, but stalked past the fallen figure, with the colonel following.

"When they are ready to depart, Fitzwilliam, will you see Miss Bennet and Miss Lucas back to Waverley?"

"Of course, Darcy, but are you not returning with them?"

Darcy shook his head and marched down the drive, unheeding direction or course. His only desire was to remove himself from the premises. He could not bear to look upon Elizabeth. He had been so angry upon first hearing the announcement, his original impulse had been to physically pull her out the door and shake her, demanding to know how she could have entered into such an alliance! The pain he had experienced upon realizing that it was Wickham to whom she had been engaged was unbearable. Now, he berated himself for not acknowledging the signs earlier, for not recognizing Wickham's handwriting. Naturally, it appeared familiar to him - had he not seen it time and again throughout his life? How could he have overlooked her obvious preference for the scoundrel? It had been much talked of at Netherfield by Caroline Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. And had she not, herself, defended him when Darcy had first proposed? But the rogue was so far below her, so unworthy that Darcy could not comprehend how she had ever been persuaded to accept him.

He walked on and on until he found himself at the sea wall that separated Brighton from the beach. Leaning on the rock wall, he yearned to throw himself into the water and swim until the ocean washed away the anger and betrayal eating at his heart. How could she have given herself to Wickham? And how intimate had they been? Darcy could not believe Elizabeth would dishonour herself completely by entering into a premarital liaison. She was too excellent, too upright, her character too fine to allow that libertine to have his way with her. Still, he had to admit that betrothed couples often carried things too far before the actual ceremony. It actually was quite common among many of his acquaintances. And Wickham, he knew, would have pushed all boundaries, seeking the ultimate of liberties.

Darcy slammed his fist on the rock wall at the very thought, unaware that in doing so he bloodied his hand. He did not feel the tear of his skin. No physical pain could begin to compare with the ache that tore at his heart.

Chapter 14

Posted on Saturday, 16 August 2003

"I tell you, Mrs. Collins, I cannot locate my cousin. I have looked inside the assembly hall and out and she is nowhere to be found." Mr. Collins said, feverishly mopping his dripping wet brow while he paced back and forth beside the window of Lady Catherine's carriage.

From inside the carriage his wife began to cough. "Did you ask Mr. Darcy where she might be? Perchance he knows."

"I cannot find Mr. Darcy, either! Oh dear me, what are we to do? I cannot go back to the ball and face all those people, not after the shocking scene involving cousin Elizabeth. I think we should return to Waverley with all haste, my dear."

"Not without Elizabeth!" Charlotte coughed in earnest now, the night air irritating her lungs. Just then she saw Colonel Fitzwilliam approaching and leaned her head out the window of the carriage. "Colonel, perhaps you might aid us in finding Miss Bennet. Have you seen her?"

"I have not, Mrs. Collins, but Mr. Darcy's driver only recently returned and informed me that he had taken her to Waverley."

"Waverley!" Mr. Collins sputtered. "Well, she could at least have been kind enough to tell us she was going. I have been searching high and low for her for more than half an hour!"

"Thank you, Colonel Fitzwilliam," Charlotte interjected. "Mr. Collins, if you will return to the ball and look after Maria, I shall immediately go to Waverley and see to Elizabeth. I shall send the carriage back for you directly."

"But, my dear, you know how I feel," he began to whine.

"Sir, Maria must not be left to the mercy of Mrs. Goulding or Mrs. Long and their gossip."

"Come, sir," said Colonel Fitzwilliam, "accompany me, if you will. I have need to speak to Colonel Forster."

With the colonel's generous offer of his presence, the vicar assumed more of an air of courage and allowed his wife to depart. The horses could not run fast enough to suit Charlotte, for she was in great apprehension at the state in which she would find Elizabeth. When they reached the house at last, she hurried inside, calling for her friend. A servant informed her that Miss Bennet had retired to her chamber and so Charlotte climbed the stairs quickly, completely out of breath by the time she reached the floor above. She had to stop for a moment to quell her coughing, but then she rushed to Lizzy's door and, knocking lightly, she did not wait for an answer, but pushed open the door.

"Elizabeth! Are you all right? What are you doing?" Charlotte was dismayed to see Lizzy's trunk open and half filled with clothing from her armoire. "Why are you packing?"

"Oh, Charlotte, how can you even ask me such a question? Is it not obvious that I must leave Waverley and the sooner the better for all concerned?" Elizabeth's voice was flat, hopeless and resigned in tone. She continued to fold garments as she talked. "I shall board the morning coach and return to Longbourn."

"No, Lizzy, you must not. You cannot leave."

Lizzy said nothing, but the look she bestowed on Charlotte said that idea was ludicrous. There was no lull in her activity, rather a steadfast persistence in filling the trunk.

Charlotte went to her and physically stopped her hands. "Listen to me, Lizzy," she pleaded, and then paused to cough. "I do not want you to leave. You promised to stay with me. I am depending upon you."

"Charlotte, sit down," Lizzy replied, leading her to a chair. "Your cough is growing worse. Please do not try to talk me out of this. I know what shame, what humiliation I have wrought on you and Maria and Mr. Collins. I must leave Brighton. There is no other way. As long as I stay, you will be shunned along with me. No one will call on you, nor will you be invited anywhere."

"I am not afraid of shunning, Lizzy, and besides, you do not know that will happen. Perhaps everyone will shun Mr. Wickham, which is the way things ought to be." Charlotte took hold of Lizzy's hands once again. "Oh, my dear, how you must have suffered and how I wish you had shared your plight with me. Together we might have thought of some way to prevent tonight's public disgrace."

"Charlotte, if I had ever suspected Mr. Wickham capable of such betrayal, I would have acted much differently. Until tonight I truly never knew how wicked his heart. I should have, though, for Mr. Darcy warned me."

"Mr. Darcy?"

When Lizzy nodded, but said no more, Charlotte said, "He is still in love with you, is he not?"

Lizzy sighed and closed her eyes. "I do not know, but after tonight - well, we both know there is no chance." She looked away then and the sadness in her eyes permeated her entire being, causing her to appear so forlorn that Charlotte rose and embraced her. Such sympathy was more than Lizzy could bear and she then gave in to her despair, beginning to sob while laying her head on her friend's shoulder. "Oh, Charlotte, I have made such a mess of things."

"Hush, my dear. Do not say any more," Charlotte remonstrated, patting her back. She continued to comfort her for some time, finally convincing her to recline on the bed while she washed her face with a wet cloth. "Lizzy, promise me you will do no more packing tonight. I will not allow you to leave on the morrow. We must talk about this again when you have had time to recover. Do be sensible. What you need now is rest and sleep."

When she, at last, secured Lizzy's agreement, Charlotte left the room, but sleep would not come for Elizabeth. She lay there for some time going over and over in her mind the horrendous scene at the ball - Colonel Forster's announcement of her engagement to Wickham, his false words of affection, and her scandalous statement that she would not marry him. The last thing she had seen as she fled the stage was Darcy's face. She would never forget the appalling, horrified look that encompassed his countenance.

Now she heard footsteps and voices in the hall; that of Charlotte and Maria, and then Mr. Collins, along with doors being opened and shut and, at last, silence. Where was Mr. Darcy? Had he not returned from the ball? Perhaps he did not even care to stay under the same roof with her, since she was such a woman. Lizzy arose from the bed and undressing, she slipped her gown over her head. She then washed her face and unpinned her hair. Pulling back the coverlet on the bed, she slipped between the sheets, but still sleep refused to come.

When the grandfather clock in the hall chimed two in the morning, she arose once again and lit a candle; then going to the window, she pushed it open and sat in the window seat, staring out at the full moon brightening a portion of the ocean and shore. She inhaled the salt air and let the breeze blow through her hair. How she longed to be down there, to run along the beach, allowing the wind and spray from the surf to wash away her fear and despair; or even better, to board a ship and sail off to God knows where, never having to face anyone she knew again.

And then Lizzy thought, I would never see him again . . . Darcy. And that thought caused her to cry once more, the tears sliding silently down her cheeks as she realized how bleak her future would be without the chance of ever hearing his voice, feeling his presence, or looking up to meet his eyes fixed upon her. With the backs of her hands she wiped at her eyes and sighed deeply. Then looking out at the ocean once again, suddenly she perceived a figure walking back and forth at the edge of the water. She strained to peer into the darkness and it was then that she could make out a man's figure striding furiously back and forth, in and out of the moonlit portion of the shore. The distance was too great for recognition of his face, but there was no mistaking that walk - it was Darcy who paced the beach in such evident turmoil.

Lizzy's heart ached at the sight of him; she felt certain that he beat a path into the sand because of his anger with her, because of the foolish absurdity that had allowed her to ever be swayed by Wickham's treacherous charm. Why did I not see Mr. Darcy's true character before I pledged myself to the one man whom he could never forgive me? It was at that very moment that Lizzy realized she loved him. She truly loved Darcy and it was too late.

She stood then and leaned out the window, allowing the wind to softly drift through her nightgown, causing her hair to blow back from her face. How she yearned to reach out to him, to tell him how sorry she was for all that had happened. Unexpectedly, the figure on the beach ceased his pacing. Spotlighted by the moon, he turned to look up at Waverley. Lizzy realized he could see her outline, that the candle behind her must be illuminating her figure in the window. He did not move, but stood there for what seemed like forever, gazing at her. Neither made any movement until a sudden gust blew through the window and quenched the candle. Now there was only darkness and Lizzy saw the figure walk out of the light and although she continued to watch for some time, he did not return.

Early Sunday morning Colonel Fitzwilliam called early at Webster House in order to inform Colonel Forster of Wickham's tawdry past. His attempts to do so the night before at the ball had been unsuccessful, as the colonel had his hands full appeasing his wife for making such an announcement and causing her such dreadful embarrassment. No longer had she been the center of attention as she gracefully danced in Mr. Wickham's arms, nor was Mr. Wickham even in attendance after vanishing so quickly after Elizabeth's denial. Lydia also was quite upset, although she soon overcame her pique when a line of young officers asked her to dance. Mrs. Forster, however, endured the remainder of the evening only through sheer determination. She had never been fond of Elizabeth Bennet, and now she knew why, for the thought of Wickham engaging himself to such a creature was beyond her comprehension. The young woman was all wrong for him. His charm was wasted on her and the very idea that he had attached himself to her without Mrs. Forster's knowledge upset her no end.

Thus, Colonel Forster had put off talking with Colonel Fitzwilliam last evening and asked him to call this morning. When Fitzwilliam arrived, however, he discovered the Forsters climbing into their carriage, and he only just managed to catch the colonel's attention before he instructed the driver to walk on.

"Ah, Colonel Fitzwilliam, I am glad you caught me," Colonel Forster said, as he left his wife's side to speak privately. "I am sorry, but there is no time for us to talk just now. You said this had something more to do with Mr. Wickham?"

"Yes, and the matter is of great importance, sir."

"I have had it up to here with Wickham," the older man said, gesturing toward his throat. "I would be relieved not to hear his name spoken for at least 24 hours. My wife, you see, is still quite disheartened by all that occurred last night, the spoiling of her ball with such scandal, you know. And she blames me for making the announcement, although I have told her and I assure you that I would never have consented to such a statement if Wickham had not informed me with great surety that Miss Bennet's father had consented to their union. No, I would never have taken it upon myself to do such a thing had I known the true circumstances."

Mrs. Forster leaned her head out the window of the carriage then and cried, "If we are to make Eastbourne by noon, sir, we must leave immediately."

Her husband shrugged and laughed lightly, indicating to Colonel Fitzwilliam that he was entirely at his wife's mercy. "You see how it is, sir. I must restore myself to her good graces and my wife desires to leave Brighton today to visit her sister at Eastbourne. She, too, does not want to hear Mr. Wickham's name mentioned nor even that of Miss Bennet. In fact, she has left Miss Lydia here at Webster House. You are welcome to call on her, if you like, but I must be on my way. We shall not return until late tonight, so do call in the morning, Colonel, and I will hear what you have to say then."

With that, the Forsters departed and Colonel Fitzwilliam was left to swear in exasperation. He had promised Darcy that he would reveal Wickham's past to the colonel as soon as possible, and twice now his plans to do so had been thwarted. Now, instead of calling on Lydia, he rode to Waverley. There he was surprised to learn from Mr. Collins that no one had seen Darcy since the ball. The servants reported that his bed had not been slept in, nor had his presence been detected anywhere in the house. The vicar was exceedingly nervous that his cousin had seriously damaged his reputation with both Lady Catherine's nephews and Colonel Fitzwilliam granted him no reassurance that his fears were in vain, for he refused to even discuss the previous night's occurrences. Once he learned that Darcy was absent, he departed almost immediately.

Elizabeth did not leave her room on Sunday. Breakfast was brought to her on a tray, but she did not touch it, other than to sip the coffee. Charlotte urged her husband to take Maria to church services, although he greatly protested, not wishing to meet with Brighton society in the glare of the morning after. His wife insisted, however, and at last he and a somewhat sleepy Maria left the house. It was not through any desire to encourage worship on the part of her husband and sister that Charlotte had advocated their leave-taking, but rather an opportunity to remove them from the house so that Elizabeth might feel easier about emerging from her chamber.

It did not work. Lizzy remained in her room, although she did allow her friend admittance. Alarm registered in Charlotte's face at the sight of her. She sat curled up in a corner of the window seat, still dressed in her nightgown, her hair undone, and here it was long past breakfast.

"Lizzy, are you unwell?"

"I am not ill, Charlotte," she answered, her voice still full of despair.

"Will you not dress and come downstairs with me? Shall I help you? What about this frock? Will it do?" She held out a pale green dress, one that Lizzy wore frequently. The girl took it, but then lay it aside and made no attempt to move.

Charlotte sat beside her on the window seat and looked out at the scene below where Lizzy's eyes remained fixed. "It appears to be a fine day for walking on the beach. Will you not take advantage of it?" When the girl shook her head, Charlotte took her hand. "Lizzy, please, talk to me. Of what are you thinking?"

"Of what else, Charlotte? Of what all of Brighton is surely talking."

"Not all of Brighton. Some are at church this Sunday morning. I have sent Mr. Collins and Maria there, so you need not fear their presence if you would like to venture out. And," she added, "Mr. Darcy is not here either. Indeed, he did not even stay the night."

"I saw him," Lizzy said flatly.

"You saw him? But where?"

"On the beach, early this morning, sometime long after midnight."

"But how, Lizzy? Where were you?"

"Here. I could not sleep and I opened the window to get some air and there he was, pacing back and forth in the moonlight. He looked so incredibly sad. Oh, Charlotte, what am I to do? I have ruined so many things!"

"Now, listen to me, Elizabeth. You have ruined nothing. Ruin would have occurred if you had married Mr. Wickham. Think of the life you might have led tied to such a man. It is plain to see he possesses neither true regard nor respect for women, for if he had, how could he have exposed you to such humiliation? No, Lizzy, you are much better off for having had the courage to say no. And I, for one, am proud of you."

"Oh, Charlotte, you are too kind, for I know you will suffer for befriending me. What about Mr. Collins? Is he not wishing to be rid of me immediately?"

"Leave Mr. Collins to me, and as for suffering, I do not entertain any such fears. I can live without Brighton's society. Remember, Lizzy, I am only a temporary resident. My home is in Kent and within a short time, I shall leave here. I have only need of the sea and my physician and his potions, and you, dear friend. The loss of visits from Mrs. Forster and the few other acquaintances we have met here will cause me no hardship, I assure you. Come now, get yourself dressed and walk to the beach. It will do you good."

But Lizzy refused. Even the lure of the seashore could not persuade her to leave her chamber.

Colonel Fitzwilliam rode his horse through Brighton, searching the inns and taverns for any sign of Darcy. He canvassed the sea wall and scanned the shoreline below, but still did not find him. He passed the churches and observed those entering the sanctuaries, although he did not expect to see Darcy among them. He doubted seriously that his friend was in any mood this day to give thanks. At last, he doubled back and returned to Waverley, this time making his way to the stables. There, he questioned the servants and rejoiced when a young lad said, "Yes, sir. Mr. Darcy come here before dawn and had me saddle me' best horse. I barely got the cinch tight when he mounted him and tore out of here somethin' fierce!"

"In which direction did he ride?" the colonel asked.

The young man pointed toward the South Downs and, flicking his reins, Fitzwilliam took off once again, this time not sparing his steed. He rode along the high white cliffs overlooking the ocean for some time and, at last, he was rewarded with the sight of Darcy sitting on the ground of a rounded hill of chalk, staring out at the sea. His horse, untended, nibbled at the sparse grass nearby. Darcy looked up briefly as Fitzwilliam dismounted, but then returned his gaze to the water below. Amazement overtook the colonel at the sight of his cousin. Still clad in the evening clothes in which he had attended the ball, his hair was tousled, his shoes and jacket covered with dirt and sand, there were bloodstains on his rumpled jacket, and a definite dark stubble shadowed his jaw.

"Darcy! Where have you been? I've searched for hours! And what have you done to your hand? Look at this, man, you're bleeding!"

Until now Darcy had remained completely unaware that he had bloodied his hand, having no recall of slamming it on the sea wall in Brighton. He appeared to be in a daze, his expression somewhat dulled, his eyes glazed and yet deeply poignant, reflecting the evident pain and sorrow within. At first Fitzwilliam suspected he had been drinking, but when he saw no bottle nearby nor detected the smell of liquor, he dismissed that idea. He took out his handkerchief and offered it to Darcy to wrap his hand.

"Have you never returned to Waverley since the ball? Did you spend the entire night out of doors?" When Darcy nodded, Fitzwilliam continued to probe. "Where did you go? Have you slept at all?"

Darcy shook his head. "Sleep deserts me, Fitzwilliam, and I cannot return to Waverley. It would humiliate her further to be in my presence and I could not bear that."

Fitzwilliam lowered himself to the ground and sat beside him. There was no need for him to ask to whom the "her" pertained. "Cousin, will you not confide in me regarding Miss Bennet? Would it not give you some relief to talk?"

Darcy sighed and ran his hand over his hair. "What good can words do at a time like this? There are no words to account for it; there is nothing anyone can do or say to make things better, to restore her to where she was before last night."

"Come now, it cannot be that disastrous. Miss Bennet is alive and well; yes, she will bear the brunt of disgrace for her courageous act, but she is free from any entanglement with Wickham. And are my suspicions correct? Are you not in love with her?"

Darcy closed his eyes in anguish, turning his face away.

Fitzwilliam knew that his cousin was a man who rarely revealed his innermost thoughts, who guarded his feelings with ferocious privacy, but still he pressed on. "Will you admit it to me, Darcy? Can you even acknowledge it to yourself?"

"In vain I have struggled! You cannot fathom how I have fought against this, but it is all for nought. I am eaten up with love for her! I cannot draw a single breath without loving Elizabeth!"

"Then confess it to her, man! Are you not free to declare your feelings to her? No impediment now exists to separate you."

"I am long past doing that, Fitzwilliam. I proposed marriage to her at Easter . . . and she refused me."

"Refused you? I do not believe it!"

"Believe it. She refused me with little attempt at civility. I was detestable in her sight at the time. Wickham had seen to that by blackening my name before her and she believed him. She believed him to such an extent that she had already consented to that damn secret engagement! And no matter what that scoundrel said last night, I am certain it was his idea to keep it hidden."

"Then you have no chance with her? She has refused you and feels nothing for you?"

"Recently, I thought that I detected a change in her regard. At least she held me in such esteem to confide that she was no longer engaged. Of course, I had no idea it was Wickham to whom she had pledged herself! How could she do that? How could she enter into a betrothal with such a man? That question has proved my torment throughout the night and I swear I can find no relief."

The colonel said nothing in reply and Darcy stood then, beginning to pace. Fitzwilliam arose also, his heart going out to his friend, for he had never seen him in such despair. "Darcy, you and I both know that Wickham can charm the scales off a snake. Think how he took advantage of Georgiana's naiveté and convinced her to elope with him."

"My sister was a mere child. Elizabeth Bennet is a grown woman; she should have known better!"

"Perhaps, but I suspect that she has had but little experience with men and certainly not men of Wickham's odious character."

"But she possesses such intelligence. That very attribute attracted me in the first place. How could Wickham take advantage of a woman who ordinarily renders such astute judgments?"

Fitzwilliam looked at the ground and sighed. "In matters of the heart, Darcy, who among us is wise? Oftentimes, we love where we should not."

"Spare me! I cannot bear to think that she ever loved him!" The very thought drove him wild, tearing at his heart like the claws of a wild animal! He was besieged by fear that it was so and that she had, in turn, given herself to him, but he would not allow that thought to cross his lips, to further blacken her character in Fitzwilliam's eyes! "I do not want your sermons, cousin; this matter has no sensible conclusion and warrants no further discussion."

"Very well," the colonel said soberly, "but at least permit me this admonition. If you truly love her, think carefully of how you judge Miss Bennet, for your conclusion may decide whether you ever achieve true happiness in this life."

"My judgment is of no importance," he answered sadly, "for the world's censure will far outstrip mine."

"Ah, 'tis true, but it may be your judgment that matters most to her. And if you allow society's condemnation to colour your decision, then do not fervently profess to me that you are eaten up with love for her, for I will not believe it. If you truly possess passion of that magnitude, you will love her no matter what misstep she may have taken; you will accept her with no conditions, no requirements other than that she love you in return. Such love is strong enough to overcome even your pride."

Darcy shook his head. "I do not know if I can get past this, Fitzwilliam, and it has nothing to do with my pride!"

"I beg to differ on that point. I believe it has a great deal to do with your pride. She is the only young woman I know of who actually had the gall to refuse your offer of marriage. Are you quite certain that is not the reason you are ready to believe the worst about her behaviour, such misbehaviour I might remind you that is completely suspect and unproved. No, Darcy, I say you are wrong in this matter. You choose to judge and condemn Miss Bennet because she has followed her heart and now her conscience. You live in an ivory tower, and you demand that the woman you now deign to love must have dwelt in one as well. Well, face reality, my friend. You will not have your way this time and you are in dire consequence of losing the one person you love because of your arrogance! If you cannot overcome this flaw in your character, then believe me . . . you do not deserve her."

"Leave me, Fitzwilliam," Darcy growled.

The colonel shook his head sadly and mounted his horse. "Will you return to Waverley tonight? That hand needs tending." When Darcy made no reply, he said, "If not and you need a place to stay, my door is open." He then spurred his horse in the direction of Brighton.

Darcy let out an oath, climbed on his steed and dug his heels into its flanks, riding hard in the opposite direction. How dare Fitzwilliam speak in such a manner! Who is he to judge me with such severity? How long he rode, he knew not, his weary mind attempting to discern his cousin's accusations. Can it be true? Has not Elizabeth also condemned me for my unforgiving resentment, arrogance and conceit? "No," he said aloud, "this has nothing to do with pride. My feelings are natural and just. She is the one who has erred."

And then his thoughts turned once again to the question tormenting him most. What if Wickham's lascivious remarks of the night before had been true? He would have given them no consideration if not for the further evidence he carried in his breast pocket. The bits of paper containing Wickham's inflammatory declarations of desire for Elizabeth burned against his chest as though they were lit by the very fires of hell. Could it be that Wickham had stretched the truth when he wrote to her, had he inferred more intimacy between them than actually existed? Darcy would not put that past the rogue by any means, but just the thought of him touching her produced murderous thoughts within his heart!

I can well justify murdering Wickham if I let myself, but how do I squelch this fury that wells up in me toward Elizabeth? Can I ever get past my anger with her?

"I do not know," Darcy said aloud. "God help me, I do not know!" He realized that was the issue he must resolve within his own heart. Was his love for her true enough and strong enough to overlook her mistake? And what if she had made the ultimate error? What if Wickham had taken advantage of her and they had been lovers in every sense of the term? How could he bear it? How could he accept her after such a misdeed? The very thought made him physically ill.

Darcy abruptly halted his horse and, jumping off, he ran to the side of the cliff and vomited to such an extent that when finished, he could do nothing more than collapse on the ground. He lay there, holding his stomach in such agony that his horse even approached him and nibbled at his shoulder as though he might offer comfort. Remaining there for some time, exhaustion finally took over and at last, sleep descended upon him.

At Waverley, the clock in the hall chimed the first hour past midnight when Lizzy at last ventured from her room. She had spent the evening writing letters, first to Jane and then to her father, in which she told them all that had happened. Knowing that Mrs. Long and Mrs. Goulding would spare no effort to spread the news of her scandalous involvement with Wickham throughout Meryton, she sought to prepare her family for the worst. To Jane she poured out much of the sadness within her heart without mentioning Darcy, and to her father she applied for his counsel as to what he would have her do. Should she return home or would her mother be able to bear the disgrace more easily if she remained at Brighton?

Maria, Charlotte and Mr. Collins had already retired for the night, so Lizzy now felt safe in departing her chamber to leave her letters on the table in the great hall so that they might be taken to the mail first thing. With the servants also having gone to bed, she felt free to wander through the house and she soon found her way out onto the terrace. How refreshing the cool night breeze felt after being cooped up inside all day. She sat on the stone bench for a while, gazing at the star-lit sky and listening to the ocean's song. She thought about walking down to the rock wall so that she might have a closer prospect of the shore, but the memory of the last time she had stood there with Darcy caused her to reconsider. The thought that he would never again look upon her with such affection as he had done that night caused a searing pain within her heart, cutting far too deep. Lizzy could not bear to think of him without once more losing control of her emotions. When her tears began to fall, she turned and entered the house.

She sank down on a chaise just inside the door, which had been placed beside the wide, spacious window looking out to the sea so that Charlotte might enjoy the view. The drapes were open and the moonlight shone into the room and illuminated the chair, providing the only light in the salon. Lizzy slipped off her shoes and pulling her knees up to her chest, she curled herself into a ball and gave way to her grief, sobbing aloud with no attempt to hide her misery. No one could hear her and she felt free at last to give vent to her great distress, to the fear above all fears - that Darcy no longer loved her, that in his sight she could be nothing but shamed. How he must despise me, she thought. I can never face him again! I cannot bear to see him look upon me with disgust and loathing!

Just then a movement in the doorway leading to the hall startled her and she gasped between her sobs! "Who is there?" she called.

From the light in the hallway she could make out the outline of a man and when he approached the chaise the moon shining on his face caused her to cry aloud, for the man was none other than Darcy. Unaware that he had been watching her for some time, Elizabeth could only hope he had not heard her weeping. She jumped up from the chair and attempted to brush past him, but not before he caught her hands and turned her face to the moonlight, her tear-stained countenance all too evident.

He uttered not a word, but the look of anguish in his eyes pierced her very soul. She had never seen such a reflection of bleak despair and knowing that she was the cause, Elizabeth could not bear it. "No!" she cried. "Release me!"

Twisting her hands within his, she broke loose from him and ran from the room, up the great staircase and into her chamber. Darcy followed her, reaching the hallway in time to see the door to her room firmly shut. He stood without, his breath ragged and harsh. Raising his hand, he started to knock, but then slowly dropped it, knowing it was useless to think that she would open it.

What am I doing? he thought as he staggered back down the stairs and into the salon. Sinking down on the chaise where she had lain, he placed his face against its back, inhaling her faint scent still lingering therein. A part of the upholstery felt damp and he realized the cause was her tears. When he had entered Waverley only a short time before, her weeping had beckoned him to her side with greater allure than any siren's song. He could not endure seeing her in such a state and his first and only instinct had been to take her in his arms and comfort her.

Where was his pride now? His anger and distrust? Where had those wretched feelings gone with which he had shackled his heart? Vanished at first sight of her suffering!

"I am lost and undone!" he cried aloud. His pride and superiority were no match for this all-encompassing love that had welled up in him at the first sound of her distress and burst upon his heart with a greater passion than he ever knew existed. No matter what she might have done, no matter what she did, Darcy would not . . . could not . . . stop loving Elizabeth.

Leaning forward, his head in his hands, he sat there for some time acknowledging his state, accepting the reality of what could not be changed. His foot then brushed against her slippers left behind in her desperate need to escape. He picked them up and thought of how often he had caught her barefoot. A great longing to hold her, to kiss away all of the pain he had seen on her countenance overtook him with such great force that he rose and bounded up the stairs. Standing outside her door, he leaned his head against the molding, willing her to read his thoughts, to somehow feel his love through the heavy wooden barrier, to find comfort in his care and, most of all, to return his affections. At last, he placed her slippers on the floor side by side so that she or the maid might find them in the morning. Placing his hand on the outside of her door, he whispered, "Good night, dearest."

In his chamber, Darcy rang for his valet, uncaring that he would be awakened. With a mighty roar, his appetite had returned. He wanted a meal, a bottle of wine and a long soak in the tub. He knew that the morrow would bring troubles of its own, but for tonight peace descended upon him. Love had won this battle. It had quenched the fires of his pride and once more filled him with a feeling of hope.

Chapter 15

Posted on Saturday, 23 August 2003

Darcy slept late on Monday morning. Exhausted by the emotional gamut he had experienced, besides missing sleep completely on Saturday night and not crawling between the sheets until after two o'clock on Sunday morning, his body cried out for the replenishment slumber afforded while his soul rejoiced in its first ease since the distressing events that had occurred on the night of the ball. The sun had long climbed high in the sky by the time he awakened and he stretched, squinting at the bright light peeping through the heavy closed draperies. When a brief glance at the clock on the fireplace mantel announced that it was past the noon hour, he rose and rang for his servant, then dressed and made his way below stairs, hoping expressly to discover Elizabeth within the breakfast room.

Only a serving girl stood therein and she immediately offered to fetch him a plate of food. He refused except for a cup of coffee and then asked the whereabouts of Mr. and Mrs. Collins. Told that they were in the drawing room, Darcy took his coffee and approached the room, anticipating not only their presence, but that of Elizabeth as well. Disappointment reigned at the sight of the married couple alone.

Mrs. Collins sat on the chaise, plying her needle to her embroidery, while her husband sat nearby reading to her from Fordyce's sermons, in particular, the one pertaining to the necessity of wives submitting to their husbands in all things. He paused in mid-sentence at the sight of Darcy and immediately jumped up and bowed several times, exclaiming, "Mr. Darcy! Will you not join us? I was just enlightening Mrs. Collins on yesterday's sermon, which she had to miss due to her health."

Darcy bowed briefly to him and then to Mrs. Collins. "I trust you are feeling better this morning, Mrs. Collins."

"I am, Mr. Darcy," Charlotte replied, and then noticed his bandaged hand. "But your hand, sir - it would appear that you are injured."

Darcy dismissed it with a quick gesture. "It is of little matter; please do not concern yourself." He looked around the room for some sign that Elizabeth might have been there, but saw no such indication. He then addressed Mr. Collins, "You said you were reading from Fordyce's sermons, sir?"

"Why, yes," the parson answered quickly, delighted to have this esteemed person's attention. "The bishop's Sunday service pertained to this very subject."

"And that was?"

"The sovereign duty of wives to be in subjection to their husbands, one that I concur with wholly."

"No doubt," Darcy said, shooting a brief glance at Charlotte. "I wonder, Mr. Collins, have you never shared that particular lesson with my aunt?"

Mr. Collins blinked in quick succession at the very thought. "Why, no, sir, I had not thought to do so. Is it your opinion that I should, Mr. Darcy?"

"By all means. Lady Catherine is excessively attentive to all proper feminine conduct, you know."

"Oh, there is no doubt, sir. She is perfectly attuned to even the slightest nuance of everything fine and proper . . ."

"I am certain she would appreciate your instruction on the subject."

Mr. Collins became quite excited at this thought and began to flutter around. "Indeed? Mr. Darcy, I cannot begin to thank you for alerting me to such a notion. I shall share my copy of Fordyce with her immediately upon my return to Rosings."

"Do you think it wise to wait that long, sir?"

"Why, I had not thought about it. Would you have me send my copy to her by post?"

"I should hate to see you deprived of your own copy. How should you continue to instruct Mrs. Collins? Might it be possible for you to purchase another edition here at Brighton and mail it to Lady Catherine?"

"An excellent idea, sir, I must say! I shall attend to it with all haste. There is a fine establishment of booksellers next to the chemist in Brighton. I shall call there this very day."

"I would urge you not to waste a moment, Mr. Collins. Feel free to depart this very moment if you desire."

"I will, sir, I will! Your condescending attention to alert me to such a need is to be greatly commended." With further ministrations of excessive gratitude and much bowing, Mr. Collins backed out of the room.

Charlotte said nothing, for she had all that she could do to contain the mirth that threatened to erupt upon her countenance at any moment. Keeping her head lowered, she applied herself to separating her floss with great diligence.

Darcy walked to the window and looked out as he finished his coffee. Then, with the greatest attempt at nonchalance, he turned to Charlotte and asked, "Is Miss Lucas about or have she and Miss Bennet gone out?"

"My sister has gone to call upon Lydia Bennet, but Elizabeth did not accompany her."

"And how is Miss Bennet this morning? I trust she, too, is feeling somewhat better."

Charlotte looked up, attempting to read his countenance. She wondered with what regard he now held Lizzy. Was his question simply polite conversation or had she detected a note of true concern within his tone? "She is not ill, Mr. Darcy, if that is what you ask, at least not physically. At the moment, one could hardly expect her to enjoy a vigorous spirit."

Darcy frowned and made no reply for a few moments. He returned from the window and seated himself on a chair across from Charlotte. "Mrs. Collins, I am concerned . . . that is, I fear . . ." He stood then once again and walked to the fireplace. "Has she left her chamber? My servant told me earlier that Miss Bennet had remained in seclusion all of yesterday."

"Yes, that is correct, but she is up and about today. In fact, did you not notice her trunk and other belongings stacked in the hall?"

"Her trunk? I do not understand."

"Elizabeth is going home."

"To Longbourn? When?"

"On the afternoon coach," Charlotte answered, paying particular attention to how he received this news.

"This very day! But why?" Darcy asked a little too quickly.

Charlotte sighed and pressed her lips together. She knew Lizzy would not want her to reveal certain things to Mr. Darcy, and yet her pragmatic mind told her that if her friend had any chance of securing this handsome, privileged man, now was the time. She said, "Elizabeth believes she has brought disgrace on this house and that neither your aunt nor you would wish her to remain here after the events of Saturday night."

"But that is preposterous!" Darcy cried. "I have no wish to see her leave Brighton! Why would she think such a thing?" He began to pace back and forth, twisting the signet ring round and round on his finger. "What could possibly give her the idea that I want her gone?"

Charlotte took a deep breath and then said, "Evidently it was the look on your face last night, sir."

"What?"

"She told me that you came upon her unexpectedly late last night and that she could not bear to see the expression on your countenance. It told her more plainly than words that she should leave Waverley."

"But she was mistaken!" Darcy cried. "Utterly mistaken!"

"I suggested that, Mr. Darcy, but she would have none of it. I have sent Maria to fetch her sister, hoping she might aid us in keeping Elizabeth here, but I fear that her mind is quite made up. In fact, at this very moment she has gone for a last walk on the beach. She loves it so, you know."

Darcy's eyes darted to the windows leading to the ocean. With a hasty bow, he excused himself from Charlotte's presence and departed the room. A smile of satisfaction settled upon her face when she heard the door to the terrace shut firmly behind him.

Lizzy had walked a great distance, so far that she could no longer even see Waverley. There had been no one about on that part of the beach that lay directly below the great house when she had picked her way through the dark stones and first reached the water's edge. Thus, she had removed her shoes and lifted her skirts, feeling free to wade along the edge of the shore but careful to step back quickly when a wavelet approached with any force. She had studied the sand carefully at the place where she had seen Darcy pace back and forth early Sunday morning, but the tide had, of course, long washed his footprints out to sea.

Any sign that he ever stood here has now vanished as far from this shore as his heart has surely vanished from mine, she thought sadly.

When she rounded the curve of the beach and reached the great rock formation on which she had sat before, she had not the heart to climb on it today. The memory of the last time she had descended it, being caught up in Darcy's arms, and the realization that they had almost kissed now washed over her with such force that she felt overcome with weakness. With a certain deadly reality, she understood that never would she know what it was like to be kissed by Darcy. She leaned against the rock to steady herself and placed her face against the cold, rough surface, thinking of the great gulf impassable between them that now existed. I cannot bear the thought that he is alive in this world and thinking ill of me!

She began to cry then, the tears flowing markedly down her cheeks, even though she had promised herself with the morning's sun that she would weep no longer. She left the rock and walked on farther around the bend, unaware of where she was actually going, conscious only of the pain that once again engulfed her, pain she told herself this morning that she had put behind her. Seeing the despair on his face when he came upon her in the early morning hours had driven her not only to escape to her bedchamber, but to the certain realization that all hope with Darcy was gone. He would never be able to accept a woman who had engaged herself to the man he detested most in this life. Once having faced this fact, Lizzy had with the morning light determined to leave Brighton and leave off grieving for what she could never have.

Now, all of her resolve came crashing down around her just as the breakers crashed against the rocky shore. The reality that Darcy was exactly the man who, in disposition and talents, would most suit her, that his understanding and temper, though unlike her own, would have answered all her wishes flooded her mind. Their union would have been to the great advantage of both; by her ease and liveliness his mind might have been softened, his manners improved; and from his judgment and knowledge of the world she would have received great benefit. Elizabeth was now convinced that she could be happy only with him, when it was no longer possible that they should wed.

Looking up, she saw that she had stumbled upon a small cove cut far back into the chalk cliffs. Huge stones lined the raised shore and she had to climb to walk along them, while the foamy waves splashed below. Weary more from her thoughts than from physical exertion, she found a place to sit and stayed there for no little time, reliving the tumultuous evening at Colonel Forster's ball. What could she have done differently? How could she have prevented the shocking events that happened? Over and over she played the scene in her mind and could find no solution. At last, the warmth of the day, along with the hypnotic play of the ocean caused her eyelids to grow heavy and she was soon lulled into sleep.

Some time later Lizzy awoke with a start, wondering how long she had lain there. She arose and dusted the sand from her skirts, aware that her gown was now quite damp from the spray of the surf. Her curls had come undone and, although she attempted to re-pin them, the humidity would have its way and she knew her appearance must be in much disarray. Fearing she would miss the afternoon coach, she began walking back hurriedly, suddenly aware that she was barefoot Now, where had she left her slippers? Just as she neared the bend in the shoreline, where stood her favourite great rock formation, she was shocked to see a figure, a man's figure, leaning against it, his face turned from her while he scanned the beach. As she narrowed her eyes, straining to see, apprehension overtook her when she realized it was Darcy! No! It cannot be! I cannot face him again!

Lizzy turned around and began to walk hurriedly back toward the cove, but not before she saw him look up and recognize her.

"Miss Bennet!" he called.

Instead of responding, she walked faster. He called again and as she could hear that he was gaining on her, she stopped and turned, acknowledging him. "Mr. Darcy."

"I must talk to you," he said as he neared her.

Shaking her head and backing away from him, she said, "Surely, sir, there is nothing we can say now that either would want to hear."

"I disagree. I ask that you listen to what I have to say!"

"Sir, I cannot bear your reproaches. Pray, do not impose upon me to listen, for there are no reprimands you may utter that I have not already told myself! I am leaving Brighton. You will never have to see me again. I beg you, let me go in peace!" She began to run from him then, her breath coming hard and quick, the panting sound filling her ears along with the cry of a seagull overhead and the relentless pounding of the surf against the rocks below. She had almost reached the part of the cove where she must begin to climb, when she felt his hand catch hers and his strong arms pull her back to him. As though she were little more than a helpless kitten, he gathered her in, enfolding her within his mighty embrace.

He turned her face, forcing her to meet his eyes, his voice demanding, "Elizabeth! Run from Brighton if you will, but do not run from me. No matter where you go, I will follow. I can run harder and faster than you and I will not give over. You cannot escape, for I will not let you go. I love you, Elizabeth!"

"How can you, sir?" she cried out with a great sob.

"How can I not?" he responded. "I cannot eat or drink or sleep or even breathe without loving you! I love you more than I love my own life and I will declare it over and over until you cease your running and acknowledge it as truth."

She could do nothing but cry, the tears streaming down her face while he held her head against his heart, caressing her hair with one hand, while he pulled her body close to his. "Do not cry, my darling. Pray, do not cry. Say you love me. Say my name, Elizabeth. Say, 'William,' say, 'William, I love you.' Please, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, will you not say it and relieve my suffering?"

Elizabeth struggled to breathe for she felt her heart would surely burst, as she raised her face to look into his eyes. Could this truly be happening? Was this not a dream from which she would certainly awaken? "I do, William. I do love you so very much! William, I love you!"

Heaven touched Darcy at that moment and he felt such wonder, such sublime joy that he could not speak another word. Slowly and with great tenderness he took her face in his strong hands and lifted her lips to his. Softly he touched his mouth to hers and at last tasted her essence. Elizabeth felt a warmth well up in her from so deep within she knew not what she did. She gave herself to him wholly and completely, her lips parting willingly as he deepened his kiss. His arms went around her waist then and he pressed her to him as though he could make them into one person, and she willingly responded with an equal passion of her own.

The ocean roared and the seagulls sang and at that moment in time, at last all was right in their world.

Sometime later, Darcy and Elizabeth sat side by side on the great rock that they both claimed as theirs. He talked with ease and animation, relating how he and Fitzwilliam had played upon it as boys and made her laugh at his tales of how his cousin had more than once pushed him off into the surf below. She talked of growing up with four sisters, the summer her father had taken them all to Ramsgate and how Kitty had escaped from her care and run into the ocean, and the screams they endured when she discovered that seawater stung when it washed into her eyes. Conversation now overflowed between these two previously taciturn individuals. As so easily happens when a man and woman first begin to love, they could not share their lives with each other fast enough to achieve satisfaction. Each one expressed the greatest delight and attention to the slightest detail spoken by the other. Their hunger for sharing their history one with the other could not be satiated.

That was not the only hunger that needed to be tamed. They had resorted to talking when it was obvious that their physical craving for each other must be diverted. Darcy had kissed Elizabeth over and over after her declaration of love, unable to quench his desire, until at length he feared he would lose control over his passion. She had felt none of the distaste for his kisses that she had experienced when Wickham had pushed himself upon her. Instead, she was quite helpless to comprehend her own wild abandon for his touch and she could not summon the effort to step away from his embrace. At last, they had walked up and down the shore arm in arm, talking of their great desire for each other, of when each had first suspected that they loved the other, and Darcy, in particular, berated himself for not first acting in a manner that would have induced her to think well of him. Elizabeth, in turn, blamed herself for not from the beginning recognizing his character as that of a true gentleman. This brought up the incidence of Darcy's first proposal and he, once again, apologized for the thoughtless manner in which he had assumed she would be overjoyed at his invitation to become his wife. Elizabeth attempted to make amends for abusing him so abominably in her refusal, but he would not have it.

"What did you say of me that I did not deserve? For, though your accusations were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises, my behaviour to you at the time merited the severest reproof. It was unpardonable and I cannot think of it without abhorrence."

When she attempted to affix more of the blame upon herself, he had kissed away her arguments until she laughingly agreed that they would not quarrel as to whom belonged the greater share of blame. He had then led her to the great black rock that they both loved, and after scanning the horizon to make sure they were quite alone, he lifted her to the first level and then joined her as they climbed around it until they were now sitting side by side, facing the sea. They were completely hidden from any who might wander down the beach and unless a great ship appeared out of nowhere, they were visible from the ocean by only the gulls and pelicans.

At length, their conversation lapsed for a while and they were content to just watch the whitecaps below, basking in the warmth of the sun and the nearness of each other. Darcy placed his arm around her and she lay her head on his shoulder. Never had either found such contentment, such joy in the simple act of being.

At last Darcy spoke again, "Elizabeth, we have declared our love for each other, but you have yet to say the words I long to hear."

She raised her head and looked deep into his eyes, at a loss as to what he referred.

"When will you become my wife?"

A smile graced her lips, but then she sighed and looked away.

"Elizabeth?" he asked, gently turning her face back to his.

She looked down before speaking. "Before I answer that, we must talk about this great, awful thing that lies between us."

"I do not understand to what you refer, my love, for as close as we sit, I dare even the slightest hair to push itself between us." He had spoken in jest, but when she did not smile, he, too looked away, well aware of what she referred.

"We must speak of it, William. We cannot deny that it happened nor ignore its consequences. You must have questions of me? How can you not? Ask me, sir. Ask me how I could have behaved so foolishly."

He looked at her directly, holding her face with his hand. "I have no questions, Elizabeth. I cast no stones, for if I had not concealed Wickham's true character from you and your family or from Colonel Forster, none of this would have happened. The cause was due to my own pride, my refusal to warn your father of Wickham's unsavoury past, and I acknowledge that I am responsible for all that has occurred!"

"You are not responsible!" Lizzy cried. "How could you expose your sister's good name in so public a manner? No, I will not have it. I am liable. I was foolish enough to be swayed by Mr. Wickham's easy manners and amiable conversation. My vanity was stroked by his flattery and compliments."

"No," Darcy interrupted, "I will never believe that. Your head is not turned by empty phrases. If I had exhibited even the slightest attempt to charm or win your approval, or at the very least, refrained from slighting you with such rudeness, you would not have been susceptible to his baseless accusations against me. How could I have acted with such atrocity and expected you not to prefer him? Your only fault, Elizabeth, was your ignorance, and you can hardly be blamed for that. Your kind heart was taken in by his lies."

Elizabeth placed her fingers against his lips, attempting to silence him, but he only used the opportunity to kiss her fingertips. She could not help but smile slightly at his affection, but she withdrew her hand and spoke again. "I must speak, sir, and you must listen. I cannot go on without confessing to you all that has happened. Pray, grant me this request and remain silent until I have finished."

A great sadness returned to Darcy's eyes, but he nodded at last and made no further attempt to halt her confession. Elizabeth then told him all. She began with her anger at hearing not long after she had met Wickham, of his false tale about Darcy. Her concern at such injustice was fueled by Darcy's disinterest in her and by the general feeling in Hertfordshire that favoured Wickham. She had found it all too easy to believe him and he, in turn, had played upon her sympathy. She had agreed to the secret engagement by believing another lie, that his progression in the militia was predicated upon his remaining single until he had achieved certain promotions. They had not entered into this agreement long, before Lizzy had serious doubts about the wisdom of having done so. She told of the rumors concerning Mary King and Wickham, plus his public attentions to other women in her presence. The fact that they were separated by her extended stay at Kent had only delayed her ability to act upon her desire to soon be free of him. After arriving in Brighton and confirming the fact that he had most probably attempted another secret engagement with Miss King, Lizzy had told him she wanted out of the betrothal, some seven or eight days before Colonel Forster's ball. Only moments before the colonel had made the public announcement, she had spoken to Wickham for the last time, confirming that the engagement was broken completely. She could not account for the reasoning behind his public humiliation of her other than that of a man angry and scorned.

"That is the whole of it," Lizzy concluded, "unless there are questions you would ask, William."

The scraps of Wickham's letter burned inside Darcy's breast pocket, but he would not mention the question he most wanted answered. He had resolved not to do so and he would stand by his resolution. No matter what had transpired between Wickham and Elizabeth physically, he would not hold it against her. He had silently vowed to bury it deep within his heart and never reproach her with it. Slowly, he removed his arm from around her and withdrew the folded pieces of paper. Tearing them in tiny bits, he flung them into the deep below. "I have no questions, Elizabeth."

"What is that of which you dispose?" she asked, watching him closely.

"Nothing that matters any more, my love. Nothing at all." He drew her close to him and slowly and softly kissed her cheek, her forehead, and then her mouth. Releasing her lips, he once again kissed her cheek and was surprised at encountering the salty taste of her tears. He drew back with a questioning look.

"You will not ask, William, but I must tell you this, even though I have not the slightest desire to do so."

"You do not have to tell me anything more, Elizabeth," he said quietly. "Do you understand me? Nothing at all."

"But you have a right to know, sir, if we are to marry."

Darcy looked away then, a great pain arising in his chest. He did not want to hear any further confession. He did not want to know if Wickham had been her lover.

"I hate telling you this, I would rather die than do so, but I am afraid Mr. Wickham pushed his affections upon me."

Darcy closed his eyes in anguish, finding it hard to breathe. "Elizabeth . . ."

"He kissed me, William. I did not like it, but he insisted on doing so." She began to cry softly once more.

Darcy waited for her to continue, all the while holding his breath. When she said no more, with one great, enormous effort he gasped, his chest forcibly expanding in and out. "That is it? That is what you have to tell me?"

"Yes," she murmured, looking up at him, her eyes magnified with fear.

He pulled her to him then, cradling her head against his chest as he kissed the top of her head. "Oh, my dearest girl, it will all be forgotten, for if you will allow me, I shall kiss away any memories you may have of any other man's kisses."

"I shall allow it, sir. In fact, I shall beg for it. I love your kiss, William. You know not how it makes me feel. I never imagined I could be so affected."

Naturally, with such inducement, Darcy could do nothing less than oblige his lady. They continued thus for no little time until at last, he returned to his earlier question. "You still have not answered me, my dear. When will you exchange your name for mine?"

Lizzy bowed her head, fearful of introducing yet one more obstacle to their happiness, but all too aware that it most certainly still existed. "William, how can we marry when I am in such disgrace? You know the price our world exacts from any woman who breaks an engagement and especially one who has been involved in a secret attachment. How can I marry you and with such an association pull you down, as well as your sister? I am willing to bear the censure, but it would break my heart to hurt you or your family in this manner."

A deep frown crossed Darcy's brow. "So, what would you have us do, then - live in sin?"

"Mr. Darcy!" Lizzy's eyes widened in shock at such a suggestion.

"I will not let you go, Elizabeth. If this world, as you put it, will not accept us, then we will strike out for a place that does, for you shall be my wife. Otherwise, I cannot live."

"You cannot be serious, sir. You would not ask me to do such a thing."

"Of course, not," he said with a sigh, "but you must understand how serious I am about marrying you. My wishes in this matter will not be swayed and if society's disapproval is all that I must bear, then that is a small, small price to pay."

"But what about Georgiana? How can we do this to her?"

"You forget, my dear. My sister has already borne her share of humiliation at the hands of Wickham. She would not wish us to sacrifice our happiness for the mere sanction of the world. Now, answer my question once and for all. When will you marry me?"

Elizabeth searched his eyes. Could it be true? Could they actually marry in spite of what she had done? Could she face the condemnation and disapproval that was sure to rain upon them if they married? Would society not deem her a fortune hunter who had discarded a poor soldier for the opportunity of securing a man of Darcy's wealth and stature?

"Elizabeth?" he asked again when she had made no answer.

And then she saw the slight stirrings of fear reflected in his look and she could not bear it. She knew with a certainty that would not be denied that she could do nothing less than devote her life to removing any such alarm, that returning the light to his eyes mattered more than anything and if loving her caused that glow, then she would love him freely and completely, no matter what.

"As soon as you speak to my father, sir, I will marry you. Oh, William, I do not deserve such happiness!" She reached for his face and taking it within both hands, she kissed him tenderly.

He responded eagerly, thrilled at both her answer and her kiss. "You are wrong, my dear. You deserve everything fine and good and I intend to give it to you."

At last, Lizzy suggested that they must return to Waverley, for Charlotte would surely be anxious about her by now. "I have long missed my appointment with the coach to Longbourn, I fear."

Darcy lifted her down from the black rock and once she was in his arms, he could not resist the opportunity of kissing her again. Lizzy's cautious nature would have protested as they now ran the chance of being observed, but his very touch caused her to forget her whereabouts, her name, everything she had ever known except for the exquisite joy she experienced each time he embraced her and looked upon her with those dark eyes filled with love.

As they walked up the coast line, he teased her about her bare feet. "Have you offered your slippers to Neptune, once again, my sweet?"

Lizzy did not even blush this time, such was her ease with his familiarity already established. "No, sir," she retorted with an arch look. "This time I placed them well away from the ocean's grasp." She ran on ahead of him, scanning the black stones farther back from the water's edge for some sign of her shoes. Actually, she did not remember where she had left them, but her pride would not allow her to confess such distraction. With a great sigh of relief, she spotted them wedged between two stones. "Here they are, just where I left them."

"Is that right?" Darcy said. "Just where you left them? I think not, my pretty miss, for I, myself, found them discarded on the sand earlier this afternoon and rescued them from the incoming sea just in time."

"Oh," was all that Lizzy could say.

"Do not fret, my love, for coming upon them gave me great hope that I would eventually discover your whereabouts."

"But how did you know they were mine?"

"Who else strews her shoes here and there so carelessly?"

"I do no such thing, sir!" she cried, pretending to be insulted. She had her slippers on by that time and after tossing her curls at him, she took off running. This proved an invitation impossible to resist by Darcy and he ran after her, his long legs quickly overtaking her. Catching her up in his arms, he lifted her above him and whirled her around and around. She laughed with delight until he slowed and finally standing still, allowed her to slide down into his embrace where he kissed her soundly and more than once.

When the couple finally made their way up the cliff-side steps, Lizzy knew their last playful antics could have been seen by Waverley's inhabitants and she prayed that it was not Mr. Collins's figure that she saw outlined in one of the windows. But then again, she spent no time in worry over it. For now, nothing could disturb her happiness.

At Waverley, however, they were all in uproar, for Maria had just returned from Webster House with the most distressing news.

Chapter 16

Posted on Saturday, 30 August 2003

By the time Darcy and Elizabeth entered the back entrance to Waverley, they were walking side by side in a circumspect manner, cautious to keep their hands to themselves, and endeavoring with great valour to appear exactly the opposite of how they felt. As Darcy, of course, had not yet had opportunity to speak to Mr. Bennet, he and Lizzy had agreed to keep their engagement quiet, as quiet as two people so obviously in love could manage.

Colonel Fitzwilliam was the first to greet them, as it was he who had stood at the window in the salon observing their last loving embrace on the beach. Lizzy had hoped to slip upstairs undetected and change her gown, for it was soiled from the sand and spray of the surf, but it was not to be.

"Miss Bennet," the colonel addressed her, bowing, and then also spoke to Darcy. The expression on his face was genial, but a hint of trouble shadowed his eyes. "I trust you have enjoyed the shore this afternoon."

"Yes, very much, sir, I thank you," Lizzy replied, trying not to blush, for it appeared obvious that he knew more than he said.

"And you, Darcy? Did you find satisfaction this day in nature's gifts?"

Darcy raised his chin, as though he would dare Fitzwilliam to say more. "I did."

The colonel smiled slightly and he and his cousin held each other's gaze in a way that spoke much more than mere words. "I am exceedingly pleased to hear that," he said.

Elizabeth began to make her excuses to go above stairs, but the colonel detained her. A frown knit his brows together as he said, "Miss Bennet, if you please, your immediate presence is needed within the salon. Mr. Collins asks that you join the family posthaste."

Lizzy and Darcy exchanged looks, but they both were at a loss as to any reason for this request. Upon entering the room, she saw Mr. Collins pacing back and forth and Charlotte and Maria sitting side by side, unsettled looks upon their faces. Lizzy went to Charlotte immediately upon seeing her outstretched hands.

"Charlotte, what is wrong? You are not ill, again, I pray."

"No, Lizzy, I am well. Sit with me."

"Cousin Elizabeth, at last you have come," Mr. Collins began. "Maria has just returned from Webster House with the most disturbing report."

"What is it?" Lizzy asked.

"The Forsters have thrown Lydia out of their house!" Mr. Collins dabbed at his brow, for he was once again sweating profusely.

"Lydia!" Lizzy cried. "But why? For what cause?"

"Mr. Collins!" Charlotte interrupted, clearly peeved with his announcement. "They have not thrown Lydia out of anywhere. It is, rather, Mrs. Forster's preference that Lydia stay here at Waverley until she can return to Longbourn."

"I do not understand, Charlotte," Lizzy said. "Has Lydia done something wrong?" She looked from Charlotte to Mr. Collins and then to Colonel Fitzwilliam. It was obvious that all three were embarrassed and none but Mr. Collins was willing to speak. She glanced quickly at Darcy, but his expression was as bewildered as hers.

Mr. Collins opened his mouth, but Charlotte arose and taking Lizzy's arm, she said, "Let us join Lydia above stairs, dear. She can explain this better than any of us." With a look of severity that silenced Mr. Collins, they departed the room.

They discovered Lydia flounced upon Maria's bed, pouting for all to see. "Lizzy!" she cried, upon her sister's entrance. "Oh, Lizzy! You cannot believe how horrible Mrs. Forster has been to me!"

She ran to her older sister's embrace and noting the strained look upon the countenances of both Maria and Charlotte, Elizabeth ushered her sister down the hall and into her own bed chamber, shutting the door firmly behind her.

"Now, Lyddy, do not cry, tell me what is wrong." Elizabeth sat her down on the divan and sitting beside her, took her hand. While Lydia blew her nose and dabbed at her eyes, Lizzy added, "Is it because of me? Have I angered Mrs. Forster by my announcement at the ball? Is she displeased with you because of me?"

"She is unhappy about that, Lizzy, but she is much more displeased about Wickham and me."

"Wickham and you? What do you mean?"

"Well, I may as well start at the beginning. She and Colonel Forster went off to Eastbourne on Sunday to visit her sister and she flatly refused to let me accompany her. She said, 'I want nothing to do with either of those Bennet sisters today!' Can you believe she spoke in such a hateful way, Lizzy? And I thought she considered me as her particular friend!"

"Go on," Lizzy interrupted. "What happened when the Forsters returned?"

"Actually, something happened before they returned. I was quite lonely, you know, so I sent one of the servants with a message for Wickham and he came over and kept me company on Sunday."

"Wickham! Oh, why would you seek his company after you saw how he acted at the ball? And to visit you alone without either of the Forsters at home? Lydia, what were you thinking?"

"I was not thinking anything, except that I was lonely and Wickham was the one person I wished to see. I love him, Lizzy and he loves me."

"You love him? Lydia, how can you say that?" Lizzy stood up and poured herself a glass of water, for she suddenly felt almost faint. "Oh, never mind. What else happened?"

"Well, the Forsters did not come home Sunday night at all! That is what happened. They sent a servant with a message saying they had decided to spend the night with Mrs. Forster's sister, but mind you, the messenger did not arrive until very late, and by that time Mr. Wickham had offered to stay the night."

"Stay the night! Lydia!"

"I was afraid, Lizzy, and he was very gallant not to leave me all alone. Webster House is quite large, you know, and it can seem utterly eerie late at night. The wind blows in off the sea and makes all these strange noises."

"But you were not alone. The servants were there, were they not?"

"Oh, Lizzy, servants are no company. I needed someone I knew well and Wickham agreed to stay."

Lizzy closed her eyes in exasperation and then took a deep breath. Although she was quite afraid of the answer, she had to ask the next question. "Lydia, did Wickham take advantage of you?"

The younger girl blinked several times and looked dumbfounded. "What do you mean? I do not understand?"

"Did he force his attentions upon you?"

"Why, no. He has never forced anything upon me. There is no need, Lizzy, for I love him to distraction. He is the only man I shall ever love and that reminds me, I am quite put out with you for engaging yourself to him in that secret manner!" She stood up then and shook her finger in her sister's face.

"But I will forgive you, since you no longer fancy him and Wickham explained to me that he had to ask you first, seeing as you are so much older than I and he knew Papa would not agree to my marriage before yours." She stopped and looked slightly puzzled. "Of course, now that you are not going to marry, I wonder if Father will agree to my marrying Wickham. Oh, Lizzy, will you put in a good word with him for me? We all know you can talk Papa into anything. Pray, tell me you will! Oh, Lord, I am so hungry. Charlotte whisked me up here as soon as I arrived without even asking if I had eaten. Will you not call the maid for tea and ask her to bring extra cakes. I seem to be starving all the time lately."

Lizzy rolled her eyes and shook her head. She could not take in all that her sister had said and her utter lack of comprehension that she had done anything wrong. After cautioning her to remain in the chamber and assuring her that she would have food sent up, Lizzy went in search of Charlotte, whom she found in her sitting room, anxiously awaiting her. They discussed some of what Lydia had related, but Charlotte had further news.

"Maria said that Mrs. Forster was quite upset. Upon returning home just before noon today, they had discovered Mr. Wickham and Lydia in the music room . . . in an embrace."

Lizzy closed her eyes in anguish. "Oh, Charlotte, how could she throw herself into his hands of all people?"

"I am afraid there is more, "Charlotte warned. "Colonel Forster sent a note to Mr. Collins, informing him that according to the servants Wickham evidently spent the night in Lydia's bedchamber."

Lizzy gasped at this revelation and sat down quickly, her legs suddenly giving way.

"Colonel Forster ordered Wickham to his quarters and Mrs. Forster insisted that Lydia leave her house. Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived there right in the middle of all this and so he escorted both Maria and Lydia here. Maria knows nothing more than what Lydia told her - that Mrs. Forster was jealous upon finding Wickham visiting her alone. But Lizzy, she also told Maria that Mrs. Forster had permitted such solitary visits in the past."

Elizabeth was speechless. She could not speak a word for fully 10 minutes. How could her sister have behaved in such a manner and was it possible that Mrs. Forster had truly permitted such conduct before?

Downstairs in the salon, Mr. Collins was attempting to placate Lady Catherine's nephews by defending his own position in this unfortunate situation. After allowing Darcy to read Colonel Forster's note, he began to exclaim in the most conciliatory voice, "I am most ashamed of both my cousins' behaviour, sirs. I know Elizabeth caused a great scandal at the ball and as for Lydia, oh, I knew she would come to no good end. I could tell from my very first visit to Longbourn that her parents were far too lax in their discipline of her, for she is much too flighty and adventuresome, and now what I have greatly feared has come upon us. If you wish me to send them to Longbourn straightaway, I shall do so immediately, for that is also truly my desire. Oh, what will Lady Catherine say? I hope that she will not believe I nor my wife sanctioned such conduct and that we will assuredly and immediately break all connection with this family. You do understand, I hope, that they are distant relations, very, very distant, in fact."

Darcy looked up from reading the note and gave the vicar the most withering of stares. He then turned on his heel and stalked out of the room. Colonel Fitzwilliam quickly followed and Mr. Collins was left to bow at their departing backs, murmuring, "Well . . . well . . ."

In the hallway Darcy glanced upstairs, but seeing so sign of Elizabeth, he motioned Fitzwilliam into the library. There he closed the door firmly behind them.

"How could this have happened? Why did Colonel Forster not place Wickham under supervision on Saturday night as soon as you told him of his past?"

The colonel took a deep breath before informing Darcy of his failure to speak to Forster until today. Although it was not Fitzwilliam's fault, he knew his cousin would be furious and furious he was! Back and forth he marched before the fireplace, berating himself for not having taken care of the matter himself. "Now, he has compromised the girl and there is no way around it," he exclaimed with an oath.

Fitzwilliam sighed, "Yes, she will have to marry him, and he is such a man."

"I should have called him out when I discovered him with Georgiana!"

Darcy's cousin flinched at the thought of a duel and remembered that he had been the one to dissuade him from carrying through on that impulse. "Killing him will do no good now, Darce, for the girl must have a husband."

Darcy sat down then, placing his head in his hands, filled with anguish at what Elizabeth must be going through. Fitzwilliam poured them both a glass of brandy even though they had not yet eaten dinner.

Above stairs, Lizzy returned to her chamber to find Lydia attacking a plate of fruit and cheese and downing a glass of milk.

"Lizzy! Look at what that silly maid brought me - nothing that will quench my appetite and I a growing girl. What time is dinner? I am not at all sure that I can make it until then. Why did she not bring me some cake? Will you ring for her again?"

Elizabeth sat down opposite her, viewing the empty plate in amazement. "I am surprised that you can eat so at a time like this?"

"And why not? Mama says I have always had a good appetite and lately I seem to be ravenous . . . except first thing in the morning. It is so strange. I no longer care for breakfast. Indeed, I often feel quite nauseous upon awakening and two days ago I actually threw up! I do hope I am not coming down with something."

Lizzy felt a sudden chill descend upon her and a dull pain in her stomach. What was Lydia saying? Surely not! She placed both hands upon her sister's shoulders and turned her around to look directly into her face. "Lydia! What has occurred between you and Mr. Wickham? Colonel Forster says he spent last night in your chamber! Have you been intimate with him?"

"Lizzy, let go. You are hurting my shoulders," she cried, "and what you ask is none of your affair."

Elizabeth did not release her, but held on even tighter. "Lydia, you must tell me the truth. I insist upon it!"

"Oh well, if you will make such a fuss, I shall tell you." She lowered her gaze and smiled. "I have permitted Wickham certain liberties, the kind that a lover takes and more than once I might add. There, now you know. La, just think - I have done what none of my sisters has and I the youngest in the family! But you must not tell Mrs. Forster, for she will be quite envious I am sure."

"Mrs. Forster!" Lizzy released her sister and cried out with great dismay. "What are you saying?"

"Only that Mrs. Forster is in love with Wickham, too. Well, don't look at me that way. It is the truth, for she has confided in me that if she were not already married, she would run away with him to Gretna Green in the blink of an eye! Do you not think that is what he and I should do, for Wickham doubts that my father will allow us to marry for at least two years. And Lizzy, I cannot wait two whole years!"

"No," Elizabeth murmured, "I fear that you cannot afford to wait any time at all."

She sank down on the side of her bed, feeling utterly exhausted. What should she do and who could she turn to for aid? If Lydia was with child and it was certainly a possibility, she must marry immediately. What was she thinking? Lydia and Wickham had spent the night together; they must marry right away, regardless. But would he love Lydia, marry Lydia? Although he had made promises to her, Lizzy knew the chances of his honouring such were slim indeed. How could such a man be worked on, be made to marry her? Mr. Collins would have no influence upon him, for she knew that Wickham considered him nothing less than a joke. Colonel Forster had the wherewithal to pressure him into honouring a commitment, but would Mrs. Forster intervene and prevent such a union since she had designs upon Wickham, herself? Surely, the woman had more sense than to involve herself in more than a flirtation, but then the very idea that she had allowed Lydia and Wickham intimate time alone in the past dismissed any semblance of good judgment within the lady. Oh, why did Papa ever allow Lydia to accompany Mrs. Forster to Brighton in the first place!

The thought of her father caused Lizzy to long for his presence. She was wild to be at home - he would know what to do, surely, or would he? Mr. Bennet had always taken the easy road of parenting, rarely involving himself in the lives of his daughters other than to look up now and then from his reading and shake his head, much preferring to allow them to grow up on their own. It would take money, there was no doubt of that, to persuade Wickham to enter into a permanent alliance with a girl who possessed no fortune nor connections, and possibly an amount Mr. Bennet could ill afford. Charlotte had told her that Colonel Forster had sent an express to Longbourn that very evening, informing her family of the situation. By tomorrow or the next day at the latest, her father would also have received her letter revealing the humiliation she had endured. My poor family, she thought, to have two daughters bring about such dishonour!

And then Elizabeth thought of Mr. Bingley. Would gossip about this entire situation cause him to reconsider paying his attentions to Jane? Suddenly she could see how much more than Lydia's reputation had been ruined. Her entire family must partake of this shame and disgrace.

And what about Darcy? How could anyone expect him to align himself with such a family? How could she face him now? Would he not wish to wash his hands of the entire fiasco? Would he not regret his earlier declarations to her? Would he feel bound to honour the commitment he had made in the midst of passion and join himself to a family such as hers? It was unthinkable! If her father successfully persuaded Wickham to marry Lydia, then Darcy could never marry her, for that would make him brother to the blackguard. Lizzy gasped, stifling a sob, for she knew there was no suitable answer to this dilemma. Wickham must be made to marry Lydia, or her sister would be ruined for life, but when he did, all chances for Lizzy's happiness would be shattered.

Some time later and after having changed for dinner, Elizabeth accompanied Lydia to the dining room. She dreaded facing Darcy, but her fears were in vain, for he and Colonel Fitzwilliam, Mr. Collins informed her, had left Waverley more than two hours previous, and no, he was not privy to their destination. The dinner hour passed in awkwardness. Lydia appeared to be the only person there unaware of the distress she had caused. Even Maria, who knew very little details, appeared subdued. Each time Lydia made any remark at all, Mr. Collins would begin to intone some moral platitude. This caused Charlotte to refill his plate so that he was forced to cease talking and eat, as he was not only a great believer in high morals but prided himself even more in never wasting food. At the conclusion of the meal, Charlotte encouraged Maria and Lydia to enjoy the sunset out on the terrace. Mr. Collins retired to write the news of the day to Lady Catherine and this left Charlotte and Lizzy alone in the drawing room.

Charlotte took up her sewing and sat near Elizabeth on the chaise. "My dear, I could not help but notice that you barely touched your food. Is there not some way I may ease your mind in this regard?"

"I cannot see any easy way out of all this," Lizzy sighed.

"Well, let us think on more pleasant topics, for dwelling on it will do no good. Pray, do tell me what happened between you and Mr. Darcy earlier this afternoon. Did you not enjoy your time on the beach? As you can see, I had your trunk returned to your room, for I felt certain that you would not leave for Longbourn today, not after I sent Mr. Darcy in search of you."

"You sent him?" Lizzy asked.

"Well, in a round about manner. When he inquired after you, I let your whereabouts be known and it was scarce two minutes before he was out the door to join you." Charlotte smiled and said, "Will you not confide in me, Lizzy? Has he renewed his affections to you?"

Elizabeth nodded, but her countenance contained only the slightest of smiles.

"And did you accept?"

She nodded again, but then lowered her eyes. "Oh, Charlotte, can you not see that this business of Lydia and Wickham has ruined more than her, that more things have been broken by this scandal than we can imagine?"

"I suppose you mean that Mr. Darcy will no longer wish to marry you because of Lydia's behaviour."

"Nor will Mr. Bingley marry Jane!" Lizzy added. "Our chances of marrying well were never great, but now I would say they are non-existent. No gentleman will connect himself with such a family."

"But Lizzy, if Mr. Wickham and Lydia marry quickly, gossip will die just as fast, for nothing replaces intrigue like marriage. I cannot see how it will affect you and Jane."

"Charlotte, consider - how can Mr. Darcy marry into a family wherein he and Mr. Wickham would be brothers - and I know he will not allow Mr. Bingley to enter into such an alliance."

"I think you underestimate Mr. Darcy, my dear. He appears to me to be a man very much in love with you and I think it will take more than one bad apple to spoil this barrel."

Lizzy sighed, "That is because you do not understand the depth of pain Mr. Wickham has previously caused Mr. Darcy. All that Wickham told us in Hertfordshire was false other than the fact he is the son of old Mr. Darcy's steward. Mr. Darcy never injured Wickham in any way, but believe me, Wickham has harmed Darcy in a manner he can never forget, and now that Lydia has brought such shame upon us, I know it will be too much."

"I am shocked at you, Elizabeth, to think you would agree to marry a man in whom you have so little faith."

Lizzy looked up, surprise registering at her friend's accusation.

"I know Wickham was faithless," Charlotte continued, "but you must not judge every man by his standards, and certainly you must not render Mr. Darcy in the same league."

"I do not!" Lizzy exclaimed. "I would not even speak their names together, for there is an immeasurable difference between them."

"Then do not consider Mr. Darcy willing to bolt at the first sign of trouble, Elizabeth. You do not give him the credit he deserves."

Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam had left Waverley and gone straight to meet with Colonel Forster. There they learned that he had ordered Wickham confined to his quarters and placed a guard outside his door to insure his compliance. He agreed that he should wed Lydia as soon as Mr. Bennet agreed to the match, but he offered no hope of any future under his command. "I will not have the rascal in my company! I want him gone from Brighton as soon as possible."

It seems the colonel had heard reports of his own wife's preference for Wickham's attentions and after observing his behaviour the last three days, he would brook no opposition in removing him from Mrs. Forster's reach.

Fitzwilliam and Darcy then met with Wickham, a visit wherein there was much shouting and commotion and no little swearing. Upon their first entering his quarters, Wickham had cowered in a corner, leery of a repeat of Darcy's fist upon his jaw. Colonel Fitzwilliam, however, stood between the two and did most of the talking, demanding to know how long he had trifled with the youngest Miss Bennet. Wickham evaded answering by describing her flirtatious manner with all the officers, as though he were not the only man to have enjoyed her charms. Darcy's growl and deadly look then caused him to backtrack and he soon acknowledged that he knew of no other who had known her as he did. When Fitzwilliam introduced the subject of marriage, though, Wickham flatly refused. They could have him exiled to the Americas for all he cared, but he would not marry a penniless girl who could offer nothing more than her charms. After all, his debts would not keep him from England forever, but marriage was a life-long confinement. Even when Darcy offered to settle his accounts, Wickham said no.

As the colonel and Darcy parted late that night, Darcy said, "He is holding out for more, but I know him. He will name his price."

At Waverley, all had retired for the night except Elizabeth. She had tucked Lydia into bed in the apartment next to hers and although she w