Chapter One

Posted on Sunday, 26 February 2006

“Turn for me Eleanor, there it is. That is quite lovely, dear,” Elizabeth said proudly, admiring the fine figure of her daughter.

“No, Lizzy, I think the blue suits her better,” clucked Kitty with a tilt of her head. "Stand taller, Ellie. To be sure, it molds to your figure better, but is that what you really want?”

“Of course it is what I want, Aunt, why else do you think I chose this pattern?” Eleanor laughed, a sparkle in her eyes.

“We’ll see what your father has to say about that, young lady,” Georgiana said, giving her embroidery an expert tug. “I think the green would do much better, the neck is not nearly so revealing.”

Eleanor only laughed in reply. “Does this happen to all girls just before they come out? Her aunts come from every corner of the country to scrutinize her wardrobe? You all know perfectly well that Papa has seen every one of these dresses and this is his particular favorite.” The girl gave another swish of her skirts, and curtsied in a most dignified manner.

Georgiana only shook her head and Kitty gave a decided harrumph. Elizabeth laughed with her daughter and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Your ball will be the talk of the country.”

“No doubt she will be the toast of the town!” Kitty exclaimed.

“Do take care, Ellie, that you do not give away your heart too hastily,” Georgiana cautioned.

“No, Aunt, I cannot agree with you. For I am determined to marry the first man who offers for me! For who knows if I might ever receive another?” Eleanor giggled as she slipped out of the dress and into a light gown. “I am going for a walk with Grandfather. Would you like to join me, Mama?”

“No, dearest, I am tired today. Be attentive that he does not chill, the winds can be playful this time of year,” Elizabeth cautioned.

“Do not stay out too long,” Kitty admonished.

“And wear your scarf and coat,” Georgiana called as her nice slipped out the door.

“No coat!” Eleanor called gaily, as she skipped down the hall.

The ladies sighed and picked up their embroidery, moving from the dressing room to the tea room, where the blue cups were laid out and the scones warm from the oven.

“I declare, she seems to become more a woman every day,” Georgiana sighed.

“And yet still such a girl,” Elizabeth pointed out, “I am so fond of her. With three sons, another woman’s strength is something that I cannot do without!”

“Whatever shall you do when she leaves you?” Kitty sipped her tea, “For you know it will not be long.”

“I have thought of inviting Emily to stay with me, but you know Charles can never part with her for long.” She glanced down at her hands for a few moments, “But the company of the boys, if not relaxing, is never without adventure.”

“You do seem tired, Lizzy,” Georgiana said quietly. “Indeed, I am surprised that you did not join Ellie on her walk.” The three heads turned towards the window overlooking the gardens, where Eleanor could be seem dismissing the servant and taking charge of her grandfather’s chair on her own.

“They enjoy the solitude, I think,” Elizabeth said, as she watched the two disappear into the garden. “But I am tired. I do not know what has come over me. I’m thinking of discussing it with the physician soon. It is unusual for a mere walk to fatigue me. And the sight of these scones is disgusting beyond belief!”

“If I didn’t know better,” chuckled Kitty, “I would say that there was a very plausible reason for your nausea, and it has nothing to do with illness.”

“What a laugh,” Elizabeth said gaily, and took a quick sip of her tea.

Georgiana eyed her warily, “No worries on that score?”

“Impossible,” Elizabeth replied quickly, “Why, Edmund is at Cambridge, and Godfrey is thirteen years old. A woman of my age with practically grown children has no business... well.”

“It was only a suggestion, Lizzy, a tease, nothing more,” Kitty said quietly, with a subtle glance at Georgiana.

“It would be highly unusual, at any rate,” Georgiana said, “Imagine a woman of your age still in love with her husband!”

“Georgiana!” Elizabeth’s cheeks flushed hot, and with a laugh, the other two ladies turned to the subject of the weather.

The moment he entered his bedchamber, Fitzwilliam Darcy knew that something was amiss. He cautiously approached the bed where his wife of 21 years sat with her legs under the covers, brow furrowed and arms crossed.

“I supposed Walters was sufficiently disgruntled at having you enter the room without first asking my permission?” he teased, sitting down on the bed beside her.

“One would think that he would be used to it be now!” Elizabeth exclaimed, “But of course, he must bow coldly and say, ‘You are quite certain that this is what the Master desires? Very good madam.’ Very good, indeed!”

“Old habits die hard,” Fitzwilliam said with a smile, “You know how offensive it is to his sensibilities to have us be so familiar with each other.”

“Indeed, for we have only been married these one and twenty years!” There was a silence, and then Elizabeth sighed. “There is something wrong with me, William, and I do not know what it is.”

“Have you spoken with Dr. Morrison about it?”

“No but perhaps I should,” she trailed off, “Although Kitty and Georgiana suggested something very odd. So odd, indeed, that it is perhaps not worth mentioning.”

“And what might that be?”

“Well,” she began, “They suggested that, well – perhaps there is another reason why everything seems to be so exhausting.”

“You mean that fact that you are with child?” Fitzwilliam stated, quickly avoiding the pillow which his wife promptly tossed at him.

“What makes you all suspect that?” Elizabeth cried in exasperation. “It is impossible!”

“I should think it to be very possible,” her husband replied cheekily, and this time her aim did not miss.

“What am I to do?” Elizabeth wailed, burying her head in the pillow. “I am an old woman! Eleanor is coming out within the month. In just a few years she will have children of her own!”

“They shall be very happy to have an aunt their own age to play with. Aunts are always such fun.”

“Fitzwilliam, do be serious! Are you not at all displeased?”

“Nothing could give me greater joy,” Fitzwilliam stated, and affirmed this with a sound kiss upon the lips of his wife.

“This is very unusual!” Elizabeth cried.

“A highly unusual circumstance, indeed,” Fitzwilliam replied.

Chapter Two

Posted on Friday, 3 March 2006

The thick silence was broken by the sound of Fitzwilliam crunching down upon his toast, and Grandfather Bennet exclaiming, “Well done, Mr. Darcy!”

“Papa!” Kitty and Elizabeth snapped in unison, and Godfrey spurtled into his tea.

“I am astonished!” Eleanor cried, and hastened over to take her mother’s hand.

“Believe me, no one is more astonished than I am,” Elizabeth said, giving her daughter’s hand a reassuring pat.

Young William rolled his eyes. “What is most astonishing is that you should choose to make such an announcement at breakfast. Why I was born into such an odd family I shall never know.”

“William,” his father said, “In another family, such a comment would be met with more than a stern reprimand. It would serve you well to go and congratulate your mother before I am provoked to action!”

William hastily jumped up from his seat, followed by Godfrey, and both planted kisses upon their mother’s cheek.

“I think that it is lovely,” Georgiana exclaimed, “The world is never too full for another Darcy!”

“I cannot agree with you more,” Fitzwilliam said, standing up from the table. “If you will excuse me, I have much business to attend to this morning. William, if you would join me?”

The two gentlemen left the room, leaving Godfrey and Grandfather Bennet alone with the four women. “Shall I read to you, grandfather?” Godfrey asked, firmly pushing the chair in front of him, and they booked a hasty retreat.

Well,” Kitty said primly, “Now that the gentlemen are gone, we may speak freely. “Lizzy, dearest, how far along are you?”

Elizabeth calculated silently for a few moments. “I must be nearly three months along now, I had not even noticed.”

“Then it is already past the time of danger, isn’t it Mama?” Eleanor said quietly.

“Danger is involved in the whole business, Ellie,” Georgiana said matter-of-factly, but Elizabeth turned soft eyes upon her daughter. They both remembered the two miscarriages that had occurred within the three years after Godfrey’s birth.

“Your Aunt is right, dearest. But yes, I believe that the earliest danger is past. We can expect to see this one arriving sometime in October, if all goes well.”

“Which of course, it will, there is no other way to think about it,” Kitty said quickly.

“Fitzwilliam believes that it is a girl,” Elizabeth said quietly. “I know that we will name her Jane if it is.”

Kitty’s eyes filled with tears. “She would love that, I think,” she said softly.

“Well, I think it will be another boy,” Georgiana stated after a few moments of silence.

“You only say that, Aunt, because you have no daughters of your own!” Eleanor cried with a laugh.

“Do not curse, me, Georgie, whatever you do,” Elizabeth replied in a very grave tone, trying to keep the corners of her mouth from twitching. “But I would be happy to have another son, if that is what I am blessed with. Although coming up with a name for the fourth son, it is a challenge, indeed!”

“Why, Bennet, Mama, of course!” Eleanor declared.

“That is your pet name, dear, certainly not mine!” Elizabeth said, “But Thomas, now there is a fine, strong name.”

“Perhaps you should ask your husband his opinion before the child’s future is firmly decided upon,” Kitty said with an arch of her eye brow.

“Of course you are right, Aunt,” Eleanor said, a twinkle in her eye. “Although after allowing him to choose Godfrey—“

“Heaven knows where he found that name!” Georgiana exclaimed.

“ - We must not allow him to have the final word.”

“Now that we have decided that particular issue,” Kitty said briskly, picking up her cross stitching, “There are other matters to attend to.”

“Such as?” Elizabeth said.

“Who will present Eleanor to society in town, of course!”

“Why, we will,” Elizabeth exclaimed with astonishment.

“Lizzy, you know that Darcy will never allow it,” Kitty said, “London air is difficult as it is when you are healthy, let alone with child!”

“That is true. I must say this is quite inconvenient! We cannot deprive Eleanor of another season in town," Elizabeth pouted for a moment, "And it is barely twenty minutes since breakfast, and already I feel as though I’ve been starved for three days!”

“Lizzy, you are adorable,” Georgiana chuckled.

“When you are in good humor,” Kitty added, “which is not often.”

“Be careful, Aunt,” Eleanor advised, “You might provoke her to anger!” All three women burst into laughter as Elizabeth strived to gain control of her countenance.

“All right, Kitty,” she said slowly, “For that, I think you should at least ring the bell and ask for more tea.”

Kitty obliged her sister promptly, requesting not only tea, but all sorts of delights to satisfy the momentary cravings of an easily irritable woman. She returned to her seat heavily, the chair squeaking ungraciously. She was not a large woman, but motherhood and a life of comfort had filled out her girlish figure. Georgiana, too, was no longer slight. Her hair was streaked with early gray, no doubt the result of raising three incorrigible boys. A pair of spectacles perched respectably on her nose, adding a decided air of no nonsense about her. Elizabeth was much the same as she ever was; her figure light and strong. Around her eyes were a few laugh-lines, tell-tale of the life she had enjoyed, and an occasional frizzy white hair appeared amongst her thick dark mane.

“At least if it was to happen to one of us, it happened to you, Lizzy,” Kitty said, “Theo would never forgive me if we had another child.”

“I would love to have more, but I know that another child would not be possible for me,” Georgiana said quietly.

“Goodness!” Eleanor exclaimed suddenly. “What am I going to tell everyone? What will they think?”

The three older women exchanged glances. “So you’ve finally discovered what the ton may think of this affair?” said Kitty.

“Absolute carnage,” Georgiana stated.

“Kitty, Georgie! You will frighten her to death!” Elizabeth admonished, “It will not be so bad.”

“Perhaps not,” Georgiana sniffed, “But they will talk, and you know what happens when they do!”

“Who,” gasped Eleanor, “is they?”

“Well,” began Kitty, “for starters there are the Superior Sisters—”

“—This just shows what happens when a respectable man marries a woman raised in the country—” Georgiana’s voice took on a frighteningly high pitch.

“And it deteriorates from there,” Kitty proclaimed. “Believe me, no one likes to see a woman such as your mother still in love and prospering after all these years.”

“It only makes them realize how miserable their own lives are!” declared Georgiana with sudden ferocity.

“Really, ladies,” cried Elizabeth, “You two are as bad as the whole lot of them! I’m sure that none of this will effect Eleanor’s coming out.”

Kitty sighed, “Dear Lizzy, the older you become, the more and more you are like Jane.”

“I think she would be quite proud of me!” Elizabeth declared, and Eleanor rolled her eyes.

“There is nothing else to be done,” she said, “I am going on my walk with Grandfather.” Eleanor departed from the ladies as quickly as possible, escaping with only a few reminders of ‘do take care’ and ‘wear your coat’ thrown after her.

The day was a fine one, especially for the beginning of March. With Grandfather bundled up to even the nurse’s satisfaction, Eleanor and he set off at a brisk pace towards a small alcove of trees. The relationship between the two was unique, and required very few words spoken on either part. Mr. Bennet, for one, did not speak often, unless it was something so profound as to astonish the entirety of those assembled. And Eleanor, who usually talked more than was needed, found the silence between them a comfort. She maneuvered his chair with ease, pointing to anything out-of-the-ordinary in the garden. This morning it was the appearance of a robin, singing joyfully of the coming Spring and the rebirth of all things beautiful.

After several moments spent under the happy warmth of the sun, they moved on towards the alcove. The area was overgrown and secluded, hidden from the rest of the gardens. Eleanor liked to think of it as her own secret retreat. It came as quite a surprise when they reached the alcove only to discover it occupied by a strange young man perched in one of the tree’s lofty branches. Mr. Bennet was startled by the stranger, and motioned to Eleanor in alarm.

“I say,” she called up into the tree, “what are you doing there?”

The man hastily untangled his long limbs and ungracefully landed on the ground two feet from where Eleanor stood.

“I beg your pardon,” he exclaimed, “I had no idea anyone would be out this early.”

This apology was not satisfactory for Eleanor. “Of course we are out – it is our garden after all! Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” the young man retorted, crossing his arms.

“I am—” Eleanor paused, “Actually, I don’t think I have to explain myself to you. Kindly leave these premises at once!”

“I do not think I shall!” the young man declared, and received a decided harrumph from the occupant of the wheel-chair.

“There now, you see, you have distressed him!” Eleanor cried, and kneeled down to look better into her grandfather’s face. The young man did likewise.

“Does he speak?”

“Of course he speaks,” Eleanor snapped, “But not very often.”

“Well, I am sorry to cause any trouble to an invalid.”

“Grandfather is not an invalid!”

“Ah, then I suppose he only speaks or hears when he wants to – when it is convenient that is,” the young man said with a twinkle in his eye and a nod towards the gentleman. To Eleanor’s complete astonishment, Mr. Bennet burst into laughter.

“My Goodness, Ellie!” he chuckled gleefully, “Do you not remember who this is?”

Eleanor stared in astonishment at the young man’s face. “Of course I don’t, I have not the slightest idea!”

“Come now, Ella, you haven’t shared your hideout with anyone else, have you?” The man’s eyes smirked at her incredulously, and the corners of his mouth broke into a grin as her eyes widened in recognition.

“Henry?” she exclaimed in disbelief.

“At your service, madam!” He replied with a sweeping bow. “Ella, you have not changed a jot!”

Eleanor’s cheeks flushed with indignation. “Of course I have changed,” she snapped, “And just because you’re so very tall does not mean that you can look down your nose at me. Why, I’d recognize that nose anywhere, it seems you still have not grown into it!”

“You wound me, Ella,” the young man laughed, rubbing the tip of his nose.

“You should not address me so formally, sir!”

“I beg your pardon, Miss Darcy, but we have known each other for so long, I might slip up a bit here an there.”

“You are – and have always been – impossible!” Eleanor declared, and with a turn on her heel, began to push the wheelchair determinedly toward the house.

“Wait of moment, Ellie,” Mr. Bennet huffed, “I should like to spend more time with Henry, I have not seem him for these eight years!”

“Five years, Mr. Bennet, I have only been away five years.”

“Very well then,” Eleanor said curtly, relinquishing her charge to the young man. “I shall retire to the house.” With determined steps, she marched off, while Henry turned the chair to walk in the opposite direction.

“How is your father, then,” Mr. Bennet could be heard saying.

“As well as to be expected,” Henry replied, “but he still enjoys a good game of chess, if you are so inclined.”

“Delighted, delighted!” Mr. Bennet exclaimed, and the two continued on in amiable conversation.

Up in the house, the three ladies had just moved to the music room, where Georgiana was playing a Sonata. Elizabeth reposed on the sofa, her eyes closed, listening to the lovely sound of her sister-in-law’s playing. Kitty, who was sitting by the window, suddenly exclaimed, “Why, look at Eleanor. I wonder what has come over her – and where is Papa?”

The music instantly stopped, and Elizabeth came straight to the window, only to find Eleanor had already entered the house. Shortly they heard her stomping footsteps through the hall, and she came into the room.

“Well, really!” she exclaimed.

“Eleanor, what ever did you do with your Grandfather?” Elizabeth exclaimed.

“Grandfather is with him. And I daresay they will have a marvelous time together without me!” With that, Eleanor swept from the room, leaving Kitty and Elizabeth to stare at each other in astonishment.

“Who is he?”

“And what did he do to put Eleanor in such a huff?”

“I suspect,” Georgiana said, resuming her playing, “that he is Henry Brand.”

“Oh,” said Elizabeth, “I had no idea of his returning.”

“Apparently,” chuckled Kitty, “neither did Eleanor!”

Chapter Three

Posted on Saturday, 11 March 2006

Elizabeth sat on her chair in front of the vanity, staring into the mirror and wondering what on earth had happened to her face.

“Fitzwilliam, love?” she called to the bed, where her husband was stretched out reading a book.

“Hmm?” he mumbled, glancing up.

“When did I become so old?” she answered, pulling upwards on the soft skin along her law-line. “I do not recall it. I have not changed, I feel the same, think the same – perhaps with more even-temperedness,” Fitzwilliam coughed, “Now I am suddenly faced with the prospect of raising another child, and here I am.” She turned to face him.

“I think that you are lovelier than you ever were before. You age very becomingly, my dear,” Fitzwilliam smiled, and motioned for her to join him on the bed.

She yawned as she lay down and then turned to him seriously. “This is the first time I will be without Jane. How shall I do without her?” Fitzwilliam turned to brush a piece of her hair back.

“You will have Kitty and Georgiana to help you. I daresay Mary will even come up for the occasion. But I know that no one can replace her.”

“No, no that is not possible,” Elizabeth sighed. “I thought that after so long, the pain would lessen. It has been three years now, William.”

“You miss her,” Fitzwilliam stated. “Would you like the Bingley's to stay with us for the summer and fall, until the baby is born? I could use Charles’ support. Now that their son is at Cambridge, there is only the two of them.”

“Fitzwilliam, nothing could make me happier!” her eyes shone, “and I’m sure that Eleanor will enjoy Emily’s company. She will have much to teach her about becoming a proper woman of the world.”

“I hope that Eleanor never becomes a woman of the world! But yes, I’m sure the two will have plenty to talk about, whatever it is. I say, what was wrong with Eleanor today? She seemed quite out of spirits. You know how untalented I am when it comes to reading the feelings of females. It frustrates me to no end.”

“It was Henry. They met today in the garden, and you know, it has been five years since they’ve seen each other.”

”Henry— what a promising young man. I have given him his father’s living.”

“Reverend Brand is not dead!”

“No, but he is ailing, and can no longer perform his duties as he would wish. It was his particular request, as well as that of his son’s. Henry has returned to take care of him, as well as begin sermon making. It was decided upon just this morning.”

“According to Edmund, he is a very fine speaker. Better, even, than his father,” Elizabeth said. “I am sorry that he should have to give up his education. Did he not intend to become a lawyer?”

“I think that his thoughts had tended in that direction at one time, but he seems to feel things differently now. I still do not understand – why was Eleanor so upset by his return? They were such playmates as children, and he and Edmund so close, I thought that she would be overjoyed!”

“That may be precisely why she is ruffled. She had thought she might never see him again, and perhaps is made uneasy because of the past informality of their relationship,” Elizabeth said with a raise of her eyebrows. “At any rate, they are so close in age— he is Edmund’s age, you know— that there was bound to be some tension there at the very least.”

“Well, her ball is fast approaching and that will bring all of her brothers and cousins away from their studies – and all of their friends, along with every other eligible young man in the country flocking to her side. That might afford her distraction enough.”

“Distraction from what, my love? You do not approve of Henry?” Elizabeth sat up and pursed her lips.

“I have a great deal of respect for Henry, indeed there is perhaps not a finer man in all of England, but you know that such a match would not be possible,” Fitzwilliam said and sighed at the vexed look which came over Elizabeth’s face. “You know this, Lizzy, as well as anyone.”

Her face visibly softened. “What fools we are, already discouraging a match between two young people when we have no idea of there being any attachment whatsoever. Eleanor must know this, too, and it may account for her discomfort.” She lay back down on the pillows, and groaned. “Oh dear, I must let Kitty and Georgie handle this, for I know that if I begin to think on it, I will worry and then I will become just like Mama! What a pity it is that Henry is not an Earl.”

“Then for heaven’s sake, Lizzy, do not think on it! Eleanor can take care of herself.”

“Let us hope so,” she replied and blew out the candle.

The next morning at breakfast, Grandfather Bennet announced his intention of visiting the parish to see Reverend Brand. He hoped to play his hand at another game of chess with the old man, and requested that Eleanor accompany him there.

“You can bring the attendant, Ellie, if you wish,” he said, “Perhaps it is too long of a walk for you to push the chair.”

A look of worry passed over the girl’s fair countenance, but after a moment it was gone. “Not at all, Grandfather, the walk will be lovely. I should be happy to accompany you.” Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth exchanged glances, which did not escape the notice of Kitty and Georgiana.

“Are you sure you will be all right – alone?” Elizabeth asked, and Eleanor laughed.

“Mama, as if being with Grandfather is being alone! I am curious to see if the Reverend Brand may beat him, and if he does, I should like to play him myself.”

This statement brought a huge sigh from William the younger. “There, you see, Papa, this is exactly what I was speaking of yesterday. Young ladies do not play chess – it is simply not done!”

“Hush, Will, you are only jealous because I beat you last time!”

“That is entirely beside the point,” the young man grinned at his sister, “and you should not be playing with non-family members!”

“Oh pooh,” Eleanor said, “Come on, Grandfather, shall we go?”

The walk to the parsonage was not long, and the day, miraculously, was another fine one. Reverend Brand was very pleased to meet his old friend again so soon, and they fell to their game at once. Once the two young people were satisfied that their charges were comfortably settled, Henry suggested that they might go for a stroll in the parsonage garden, and Eleanor replied that she thought that would be quite delightful. The garden was a marvelous one, the Reverend spending many loving hours in it a day, as his health allowed. Every flower in season was blooming, and Eleanor was very pleased.

“This is lovely, Henry – I mean, Mr. Brand. I have not been to visit this garden in a long time.”

“Happy memories here,” the young man replied, “and they add to the quiet of this place.”

“We were good friends, you and I,” Eleanor said quietly as they sat down on a bench facing each other.

“There was a time when no one understood me better than you, not my own father – not even Edmund!” Henry answered earnestly, welcoming the subject.

“Time changed quickly. I did not expect it to – and I certainly did not expect to see you return. I had thought that you wanted to explore the world.”

“So I did, and I have explored much of it!” Henry replied, smiling, “All of the places I ever dreamed of, all as magnificent and wonderful as in the story books.”

“What of your education? Did you not wish to become a lawyer?”

“I abandoned that notion some time ago. The church now holds the greatest appeal to me, there is nothing I would prefer to do more.”

“I see. I cannot say it surprises me, you were always so good with words, and always so kind to others.” She smiled up at him shyly. The silence hung suspended between them, tangible. “Henry, you know that I – that we,” she paused, “that is, do you remember?” Their heads were unconsciously bent close together, the sunlight streaming warm upon them.

“I do remember,” he said softly, and brushed a hair back from her face.

“Ellie!” her Grandfather’s voiced carried out over the gardens, broke the two apart. “Are you ready to return to the house?”

“Yes, Grandfather,” Eleanor called hastily, and stood, now flushed. Henry rose to follow her.

“Please,” he began, but she turned quickly and stopped him.

“No,” she said firmly, her eyes barely glancing at him. “It would be best—“

“Best that we think on it as if it had never happened,” Henry finished, his color as high as the young lady’s.

Eleanor looked up at him, startled. “As if what never happened?” she flashed, and with a turn on her heel, left the bewildered young man standing alone in the quiet of the garden.

He heard the sound of her cheery goodbyes, and the front door closing. Soon his father’s weary footsteps traced to the garden. The Reverend smiled warmly at his son.

“What a splendid morning!” he said, “The old man nearly beat me twice, but I got him in the end. What a delightful young lady Eleanor has turned out to be, and such a companion to her grandfather.” His son nodded in ascent, turning slightly away from his father’s smile. “You and she, along with Edmund, used to have such fun when you were children, and young adults. Do you remember?”

“No,” Henry turned back and his father was startled by the fierceness which crept into his voice. “Edmund and I, of course, we were always the best of friends. But Eleanor? No, I do not remember that at all.”

Chapter Four

Posted on Monday, 20 March 2006

For the next two weeks the Darcy household was abuzz with excitement. There were so many people coming and going about the house, and far too many relatives arriving for anybody’s piece of mind. Darcy found himself increasingly holed up in the library with his father-in-law and two sons. Outside the library door, the swish of a lady’s skirt could be heard every five minutes, one of the many aunts hurrying about to see about something or other. Every day there was some new emergency to attend to, and each episode resulting in tears. On Monday it was Georgiana fretting over the state of the first violinist.

“He plays a flat C sharp,” she moaned into her handkerchief and would not be consoled until dinner.

On Tuesday it was Kitty fretting over the state of Eleanor’s ribbons. With arrival of the Bingely’s, Mary and her husband, Edmund with a large party of ruckus university gentlemen, and the rest of Kitty and Georgiana’s large families on Friday, the state of Elizabeth’s nerves were so ragged that she could stand it no longer.

Fitzwilliam and Grandfather Bennet were just beginning another round of chess when Elizabeth hurried in, shutting the door quickly behind her.

“Welcome to our quiet sanctuary, Mama!” William the younger cried, and Fitzwilliam rolled his eyes.

“Not silent for long – the rest of the gentleman have arrived this morning and will invade soon enough,” he made a swift move on the board, which resulted in dreadful mutterings from Grandfather Bennet.

“I only needed a moment to compose myself before I can face it all again. Fitzwilliam, what a relief it is to me now that we only have one daughter!” Elizabeth sighed as she leaned against the door.

“Only one daughter at present, my dear,” Fitzwilliam said cheerfully.

“Oh do not remind me, Fitzwilliam, for I was so ill this morning I could barely move,” Elizabeth moaned as she heard the scampering of feet in the hall. Presently there was a knock on the library door, and Elizabeth moved aside to allow no less than ten men to come pilling into the room.

“I say, Darcy, it is absolutely marvelous to see you again!” Charles Bingley cried, as Fitzwilliam rose to wring his hand.

“Father, Mother,” cried Edmund, planting an affectionate kiss on his mother’s cheek and proceeding to introduce his five friends from the university.

Kitty and Georgiana’s husbands chose to sit down next to the bottle of port to discuss the silliness of their wives, and Grandfather Bennet was only too happy to abandon his game to join them. William and Godfrey the younger were delighted to be reunited with their cousins, and immediately left the library along with Edmund’s numerous friends to discuss shooting and horseback riding. All of this commotion drained Elizabeth of every last nerve; she sat down upon the sofa and began to cry.

Fitzwilliam, Charles and Edmund were all very concerned and rushed to her aid. “My dear, you must retire to your room and rest!” her husband insisted, with Charles and Edmund both fiercely in agreement.

Elizabeth allowed herself to be escorted upstairs, listening to her husband’s promises to take care of everything and her son’s promises to make sure his friend’s stayed out of trouble. After seeing to the lady’s comfort, the three gentlemen returned downstairs to a hoard of angry women awaiting them in the library.

“Fitzwilliam, what is going on? No one knows where anything is, what they are doing or who is who!” Georgiana cried accusingly.

Things went along like this until the eve of the ball. Under strict orders from her husband, Elizabeth stayed mostly to her rooms and the gardens, allowing the aunts free reign of the house. Pemberley was filled to the brim with houseguests and relatives, it was impossible to keep anyone’s name straight. Through the strain of it all, Eleanor showed herself to be a composed and gracious hostess, and seemed delighted to smile at everyone – unless of course that person happened to be Henry Brand. Wherever he was concerned, she was able to avoid him admirably and so before the night of the ball, the two hand not spoken three words to each other in three weeks. Eleanor felt this to be quite an accomplishment.

In spite of everyone’s frantic worry, the ball started off as a spectacular success. Mr. and Mrs. Darcy presented their daughter to respectable society with great pride. Everything had fallen into place as it should have, the flowers glorious, the candles well lit and the wine the finest in the country. One would think that there could not be a person present in the whole room who could speak of anything but praise. But of course, everything is not always as is expected.

The widow Hamilton fanned herself quietly as she surveyed the room with what she hoped was an air of utter indifference. “Well,” she sniffed to her sister, “this is a much larger turnout than I expected.”

“I am not sure what else you would expect,” replied Mrs. Hurst.

Caroline chose not to dignify an answer, and returned to surveying the room. The couples moved about gaily, the music lively and engaging. None stood out so prettily as Eleanor. She was surrounded by men, laughing and smiling at everyone in turn. But this did not interest Mrs. Hamilton enough to occupy her notice for more than a few seconds. She quickly turned to the hosts of the party, standing together in a corner of the room, Mr. Darcy’s hand protectively close to his wife’s elbow as they spoke animatedly with some acquaintance.

“How very ill Eliza looks this evening, do you not think so, Louisa?” Caroline said abruptly, once again turning to her sister.

“Certainly, she is very pale.” As they spoke, Mr. Darcy had drawn a chair up for his wife, which she gratefully received.

“Why, she is exhausted! Eliza always was such a disgustingly robust creature, I wonder what could make her so faint?”

Mrs. Hurst turned towards her sister with a secretive smile, “I have heard that she does not intend to go to town this season!”

“Indeed, that is most interesting,” Caroline whispered, with another glance at the Darcy’s. “Who will be accompanying Eleanor?”

“I believe she is to stay with Georgiana—“

“Dear Georgiana,” Caroline cried.

“—and of course Darcy will remain here.”

“It is a shame that we should be deprived of his company for yet another season,” Caroline sniffed. “But really, for all of her apparent good health, I am not surprised that Eliza should turn out to be such an invalid.”

“Indeed, no!” Mrs. Hurst replied, and they both returned to their fanning.

It had been decided that Eleanor would remain at Pemberley for a week after the ball to allow sufficient time for her to have enough time to prepare for leaving. After the chaos of the past few weeks, the relative unrest at the house was serene in comparison, and Eleanor bore her mother and father’s lectures to beware the ways of the world with great patience and understanding. On the morning of her departure, the house was oddly quiet, and Eleanor chose to slip out to the gardens for a last solitary walk. With resolution, she made her way towards the alcove, and was not surprised when she found it occupied.

“Good morning, Miss Darcy,” Henry said quietly from his perch in the tree. “I had thought you were leaving this morning.”

“I am,” she said, approaching the tree. He raised his eyebrows at her incredulously.

“Am I to believe that you are coming to speak with me? After all these weeks of silence, I am astonished.”

Eleanor threw him a glare. “Henry, that it not fair. You knew I would come to say goodbye. Why else would you be here?”

“I do not see what fairness has got to do with any of it.”

“Please, Henry. I wanted to speak with you, and I know I should have done so earlier. It was wrong of me to quarrel with you.”

He quickly sprang down from the tree to stand next to her. “Miss Darcy, I do not see what you could possibly have to say to me!”

“Then our past history, our past friendship meant nothing to you!” Eleanor cried, her eyes flashing. “You would rather remember it as if it had never been?”

“Of course I would,” he snapped back, “How else would you want me to remember it?”

“I loved you, Henry,” Eleanor said quietly, “Does that mean nothing to you?”

He turned from her, drawing a sharp breath. “At one time it would have meant everything to me, Ella,” he said, turning back, “everything.”

“And now?” Eleanor said, her heart caught in her throat.

“And now, it is as if it never happened,” Henry said, stiffening. “Things between us have changed, as you well know. We are no longer children, and I am no longer the only young man of your acquaintance upon whom you bestow your smiles.”

“Oh, so now I am not permitted to smile at anyone but you!” Eleanor cried.

“Do not twist my words—“

“Then I suppose it is best that we do not remember it, since apparently it really all meant nothing to you. What a stupid girl I was, fancying myself in love with you.”

“No,” he said, “What we felt was not love, it could never have been.” He stood silent, his eyes searching hers. “But friendship, Ella – we must not throw that away.”

Eleanor turned her face away from him and blinked back an unobserved tear. “No, Henry, I did not come to quarrel with you again. What a mess I have made of things.”

“Believe me when I say that I wish for you all of the happiness in the world. Indeed, I know of no other person who deserves happiness more than you,” he said quietly, and Eleanor graced him with a smile.

“You always had such a way with words,” Eleanor sighed. “Good bye, Mr. Brand. I expect I shall not see you again for quite some time.”

“Good bye, Miss Darcy.”

The two slowly parted ways, Eleanor walking with steps less certain, Henry with a heart suddenly burdened with a fear of something he did not understand.

Chapter Five

Posted on Monday, 27 March 2006

“You seem quiet this morning, Eleanor. Is anything wrong?” Georgiana smiled at her niece, who was staring out of the carriage window.

“I am nervous. I cannot help but fear I will make a mess of things, like I always do.”

Georgiana laughed. “When have you ever made a mess of anything, dear? I grant you, there were several scraps you got into as child, most of which involved Henry Brand, but since then you have behaved yourself remarkably well.” She noted the slight blush which graced the girl’s face. “Eleanor, what is the nature of your relationship with that young man?”

Eleanor looked up, her eyes startled. “Why, nothing but friendship, Aunt!”

“And has it always been thus?” Georgiana asked slyly.

“Why, really, I could not – Aunt, you know I cannot lie to you. There was a time when I was attached to him, and thought myself to be in love. But that was five years ago, we were children!”

“You were thirteen, and he fifteen, if I recall correctly. Eleanor, he never compromised you?”

“No!” Eleanor’s words were fierce. “Indeed, Henry would never do anything like that. What could you be thinking, Aunt?”

“Only that I remember what it is like to fancy oneself in love with someone at such a young age. You are a much stronger person than I ever was.”

The two sat in silence, lulled by the steady rocking of the carriage, each lost in their own thoughts. The countryside rolled by in greens and browns, the flowers blooming across the fields in sprays of blue, yellow and purple.

“I’m afraid town with be nothing as close to beautiful as this,” Georgiana sighed, and gave Eleanor a smile.

“I wonder if I will meet my match there – I know that you found Uncle Thomas during your first season out.”

“Yes, and I hated him in the first moment I saw him!” Georgiana laughed, and Eleanor raised her eyebrows. “You see, Fitzwilliam intended for us to marry even before we met. I was determined to dislike anyone that he had ‘chosen’ for me. Lizzy, of course, was entirely on my side. In the end, Fitzwilliam turned out to be right. Thomas and I have been blessed with many years of a happy and loving marriage – and three sons who are my pride and joy. I could not have asked for a better fate. I do not deserve it.”

Eleanor laughed and squeezed her Aunt’s hand. She had heard the story many times, and knew that the pain of Georgiana’s near elopement still haunted her.

“Be careful with you heart, and whom you choose, my dear,” she said softly. “You do not want to give away all of the love you have to offer only to discover that it could never be reciprocated.”

Eleanor rolled her eyes playfully. “First Mama, then Papa, Aunt Kitty, Grandfather Bennet, all of my uncles, our second cousins twice removed – and now you. Even Edward and Godfrey cornered me in a room to give me a lecture. I thought that at least you would spare me the admonitions of ‘guard your heart carefully.’ What is it that everyone expects me to do? Besides marry the first man who offers for me, that is.”

Georgiana only chuckled, and kissed her niece fondly. “You will do very well, my dear. No one is worried about you in the least.”

“Fitzwilliam, I cannot bear it. I am very worried about Eleanor,” Elizabeth began pacing about the room as her husband watched from his desk.

“Lizzy, she has been gone a total of three hours. I am sure that nothing catastrophic has occurred between now and when they left.”

His wife continued as if she had not heard him. “I knew from the beginning that it was a mistake for her to go without us. Whatever shall I do? Perhaps I should write?”

“Lizzy—“

“Or she may not wish me to write so soon. She will want her independence, after all.”

“Dearest, she has gone on lengthy trips before, I cannot see why this—“

“Oh, why did this all have to happen? What if something dreadfully wrong should occur, and some scoundrel meets her and breaks her heart. Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth stopped pacing and stood in the middle of the room to face her husband, “what if she elopes. The tendency to elope does run in the family, on both sides!”

Fitzwilliam sighed in anguish and put his head into his hands. “Lizzy, this always happens when you are with child!”

Elizabeth blinked. “What happens?”

“My intelligent and wonderfully rational wife disappears and her place stands my mother-in-law!”

Elizabeth fumed indignantly, “I am not like my mother!”

“No, course not, but—“

“Then what where you insinuating, sir!” the lady cried with a huff.

“That you are overly anxious,” Fitzwilliam said firmly. “If I thought Eleanor to be in any danger – in any kind of danger whatsoever – I would never have agreed to this scheme. Never! Eleanor is in no more danger on her own with Georgiana and Kitty than you ever were with your Aunt and Uncle Gardiner. I trust her implicitly, and I also trust our sisters.”

Elizabeth sank into a chair, “William, this is monstrous. I have no idea how I shall live for the next five months.”

“That is why I brought Charles and Emily to stay with us. Bingley for my own consolation, and Emily for yours. Eleanor will return to us this summer, at the very latest in August, but most probably sooner. Whether or not she is engaged, she will always be our daughter – and she would not miss the birth of her sister for all the suitors in the kingdom!”

Elizabeth scrunched up her face into a frown. “I should hope that if she were to become engaged she would see us beforehand so that we might at least meet the gentleman!”

“Most likely we already have.”

Elizabeth looked up at her husband’s face inquiringly, “Do you suspect someone already?”

Fitzwilliam shook his head and smiled, “Perhaps, but it is only a guess. I cannot remember half the names of the young gentleman that came to the ball – there were far too many of them.”

“Keep your suspicions to yourself then, and I will do the same,” Elizabeth sniffed, and then with a laugh kiss her husband affectionately. “You haven’t changed much, William, really you haven’t. Not these twenty years!”

“I cannot say the same for you my dear, your moods change more quickly than the weather. But—“ he cringed as his wife swatted him, “—you grow lovelier with each passing day!”

“You are incorrigible!” Elizabeth laughed.

“As I have always been, for these twenty years at least, so it should not come as a great surprise.”

The arrival of Georgiana and Eleanor at the Wendyll home in London was an occasion for joy. Georgiana’s husband, Lord Thomas Wendyll, and their three sons where very happy to have their wife and mother restored to them after such a lengthy absence. The hallway was a flurry of kisses and embraces and boys scampering about. Eleanor was well acquainted with her aunt’s home, and slipped quietly up the stairs, followed by the servants with her trunks. The townhouse was a grand place, as is associated with people of high rank. But both Thomas and Georgiana were unusual in the fact that they did not appreciate a gaudy display merely for the sake of keeping up an appearance – and their home’s furnishings reflected this.

Because Georgiana never had a daughter of her own, Eleanor had been given a room for her own use almost from the time she was born. It was perhaps one of the most beautifully, and yet simply decorated in the entire house. She stepped into it with a sigh of relief, noting the fresh flowers that had been placed about the room in pretty white vases. Moving towards the vanity, she sat before the elegant mirror and placed her chin on her hands, watching patiently as her trunks were brought in one by one and placed delicately on the floor.

She stared at the mirror solemnly for several moments. “Millie,” she called to the young woman carefully unpacking her dresses, “do you think they will like me?”

The girl smiled broadly and nodded her head. “Everyone likes you, Miss Darcy, if you’ll pardon my forwardness.”

“I am not so sure,” Eleanor replied and stretched her face in the mirror. “None of them like my mother, that is for certain. I know most of the girls, but most have all been out since the age of sixteen or seventeen and I have not seen them for at least a year or two. We have such a large family, you know, and I never wanted for company. Especially not when Henry, that is, Mr. Brand, was about, but of course that was years ago. How silly of me. Millie, your hair looks very pretty. Did you change something about it since I was last here?”

The girl simply laughed and shook her head. Eleanor continued to now frown, now smile into the mirror. “I think,” she said as she held a smile in place carefully, “that this is the face I use when I am trying to say something very nice, but nothing comes to mind. I mean literally, nothing comes to mind. Edmund used to tease me about it mercilessly, and William perhaps has the worst case of it, he never knows what to say. There I would stand, with this lovely smiled fixed upon my face – trying desperately to find something nice to say about Mrs. Hamilton’s new dress – and not a sound would come from my mouth! And of all things, there Edmund would stand and mouth to me the words ‘nothing comes to mind!’ Millie, can you die from laugher? I do believe Mrs. Hamilton thinks we are insane.”

Millie pondered this for a moment. “I have never heard of anyone passing away from sheer laughter, but I believe that it could be possible. Will there be anything else, Miss Darcy?”

“No, thank you, Millie, you are always such a great help,” Eleanor sighed and slowly ran her fingers along the polished wooden surface of the vanity. “What do you think,” she said to the pile of hat boxes sitting on the chair next to her, “shall I fit in here? Shall I make a good match? Oh, I know everyone says that I will be perfectly at ease, especially now that I have had my coming out ball – but to be honest I do not recall much of it!” She turned her eyes back to the mirror, solemn once again. “There, I know that I am nervous, why else would I be talking to myself in the mirror. Of course I am different, I am a Darcy! But perhaps that is that most frightening bit of the whole?”

Chapter Six

Posted on Wednesday, 12 April 2006

During the first week of Eleanor’s debut, the Wendyll’s received no less than ten gentlemen to call upon their fair lady guest. Over the following weeks the calls seemed to only increase. Eleanor subjected to the company of eager young suitors, and also to sipping tea with Matchmaking Mothers and the Society Gossips. Every mother was interested in whether or not Eleanor’s heart was engaged, and the gossips speculating over the possible causes of her parent’s absence from town.

…it really is astonishing, Lizzy, (Georgiana wrote). I have never met so many people in all of my life. Every one of them, no matter how charming or seemingly conscientious, is convinced that you are lying in Pemberley, pale as a ghost and close to death. I always smile and assure them that you are in perfect health, that in fact you seem to be ten years younger! But I think it is no use; they are determined to kill you off, Elizabeth, and there is nothing I can say to change their minds…

Georgiana’s letters were a source of great mirth at Pemberley, usually passed from Elizabeth to her husband, and from there to all of the gentlemen in the house. Eleanor, unfortunately was not a good correspondent, and therefore had only written a short missive once to assure her parents that she was arrived safely and not to worry. Georgiana usually wrote a letter once a week, and she often included short notes from her niece, which seemed to satisfy the family’s hunger for more information. Elizabeth’s replies were always prompt, and full of advice to her daughter, and also to her sister-in-law. This provided a great source of amusement from the two recipients, but Elizabeth, owing to her playful nature, could never stand to lecture for long.

….now that I have urged you more than enough to behave as a young woman in our family should, I shall move on to address the issue of the Society Gossip’s speculation that I am on my death bed. Indeed, some days I am such a state that I might believe it myself! Carrying a child at forty-one is an entirely different experience from when I was young. Although my illness is long past, I still fatigue quickly and cannot walk nearly as much as I would wish to in such lovely weather. The grounds at Pemberley a sheer delight this time of year, I am sorry that Eleanor should miss it. Her cousin, Emily has been a constant source of support to me over this past month, and seems to blossom more into a beautiful young lady every day. We think of you all often, struggling through that London smog. I hope that you catch someone soon, Eleanor, so that we might have the pleasure of your company safely returned to us. On a different note, young Henry Brand has been visiting nearly every week. Fitzwilliam considers him to be one of the finest young men in England. He and Emily get along splendidly, and often take long walks in the gardens. He always listens to your letters, Georgiana, when I read them, with great interest and inquires respectfully after your health….

“Emily taking long walks in the garden with Henry?” Eleanor gasped.

“Does that bother you, dear?” Georgiana asked, taking a sip of her tea.

“No, of course not, why should it bother me a jot?”

“I don’t know dear, only that you seemed upset by it.”

“Henry can flirt with whom he pleases. Although I think that Emily is much to young for him,” Eleanor said with certainty.

“She is seventeen, Ellie, and will be coming out next season. I doubt that your mother is implying that there is a match to be made. Mr. Brand’s living is not a meager one, but it is certainly far below what she might be able to attain.”

“As if any of us care about that,” Eleanor said quickly, “You know that all of us, every one close in age, determined that rank and position should not interfere with our choice of a marriage partner.”

“And that is why your three top choices out of your present admirers are none other that Lord Chauncey, Lord Wimbledon and the Earl of Salisbury?” Georgiana said with a raise of her brows.

“They just happen to be the most agreeable of the lot,” Eleanor cried, and the continued with a giggle, “And all so dashingly handsome.”

Georgiana laughed in return, “They are very handsome. I have applied to my trustworthy sources as to their characters, and can find nothing of a horrendous nature about them. Kitty disapproves of Lord Chauncey for some strange reason, but she will not tell me why.”

“Aunt Kitty always thinks of the strangest reasons to dislike people. No doubt it has something to do with the way he wears his coat. And besides, Lord Chauncey seems to be the most fond of me,” Eleanor said with a sniff and the two sat for a few moments in silence. “I think it is high time that I wrote Mama to tell her of my prospects.”

“Don’t be silly, Ellie, you can hardly call anyone you have met prospects as of yet. You’ve hardly spent enough time with any of them.”

“Nonsense, Aunt Georgiana. I am going to see all three of them tonight at the Whist party.”

Write a letter Eleanor most certainly did, and it caused some concern at Pemberley when it was received.

“What does she mean, ‘Lord Chauncey seems most likely to offer for me the soonest and therefore I like him the best?’ What on earth is she talking about?” Elizabeth said as she paced about the room.

“Our daughter has never written a stranger letter in all of her life,” Fitzwilliam answered. “I cannot think what she means by it. Georgiana never gave any indication that she had formed any type of attachment whatsoever, only that she was the object of many admirers.”

“I shall write her – perhaps we are worrying over something that only a joke. Eleanor always joked about accepting the first man to offer for her, but I am certain she was never serious.”

Georgiana’s letter a few days later did nothing to relieve their concern. Elizabeth read the letter with alarm, and hastened into her husbands study.

“Fitzwilliam, listen to what Georgie writes: ’I do not know what has come over Eleanor. She has been the model of good behavior over the past month, but ever since she read your last letter, she has turned positively wild. She flirts outrageously with not just one, but all of her numerous gentlemen callers! I have no experience in these matters. Perhaps her behavior is not as bad as I am inclined to believe it is. I was a reserved person myself at her age, and so cannot be a proper judge. My husband merely shrugs his shoulders and suggests for me to write to you. Please, Lizzy, write to me soon, or else I am inclined to send her straight home!”

“By all means, I am astonished that Georgie has not sent her home already!” Fizwilliam cried thunderously. “Flirtatious behavior? I would never have thought it of Eleanor.”

“Oh, don’t be silly, Fitzwilliam, she has always been flirtatious. I think Georgiana might be exaggerating,” Elizabeth said thoughtfully.

“I beg your pardon, Madam, but I do not know what you mean. Georgiana is the most serious woman I know—“

“Yes, William, that is the point! She is for too serious to be able to handle someone like Eleanor. We should send her to Kitty, she will know exactly what to do.” Seeing that her husband was about to protest further, Elizabeth continued, “Fitzwilliam I know what you are thinking, but we must give Eleanor more time. Have you not noticed it? Do you not remember that in my last letter I threw in the bit about Henry Brand taking long walks with Emily? I am certain that this is the source of her behavior.”

“Preposterous!” Fitzwilliam spurtled.

“Is it?” Elizabeth retorted defiantly. “Perhaps it is. But I am going to have a long talk with Henry. I am determined to get to the bottom of this matter. Give her two weeks, that is all. I will convince Henry to go to London and keep an eye on her. If nothing is changed within two weeks, you may go to London yourself and fetch her. Kitty and Georgiana both have a great deal of experience concerning elopements and engagements. Regardless of whether or not Eleanor’s behavior puzzles them, nothing of such an outrageous nature could ever happen to her while she is under their care.”

Fitzwilliam mumbled something unintelligible before replying, “At least I have the comfort of knowing that any young gentleman wishing to apply for her hand must speak to me first. This is very difficult for me, Lizzy.”

“I know it is, love,” Elizabeth said with a chuckle. “What was it that you told me when she left? ‘I have complete faith in her,’ or something like that? How quickly your trust fades!”

Eleanor’s trunks were packed immediately after receiving the orders from Pemberley. She did not know what to say to Georgiana, only that she was sorry to be such a bother, and hadn’t she told her on the way to London that she always made a mess of things? Kitty’s house was a completely different atmosphere from the Wendyll home. It was smaller, and much more cramped. Eleanor was not given her own room, but was forced to share one with her seven-year-old cousin Abby. Kitty merely laughed gaily as she always did, and supposed that they would find much to talk about over the coming nights. As soon as she was settled, Eleanor was given directions to come straight to the study, for her Aunt wished to speak with her.

Abby grinned from her bed as she watched Eleanor preen in front of the small mirror. “Any time Mama asks someone to come down to their study it means they are in trouble. What did you do, Ellie!” the girl cried wickedly, and Eleanor threw her the most evil glare she could muster.

“Nothing at all, Abby, I do not know what in the world has come over everyone!”

“Are you going to elope like Aunt Lydia did?

“Abby, who told you about that?”

“Why, of course none of the grown ups speak to us about it, but we always hear them talking when they think that are being very quiet. That is all Mama has been talking of for the past two days. Goodness, Eleanor, you forgot what it’s like to be a little girl!”

Eleanor deigned not to reply, and only gave Abby her most dignified sniff as she swept from the room. Walking swiftly down the hall towards her Aunt and Uncle’s study, she rested her head momentarily on the door before knocking.

“Come,” Kitty cried merrily, as if nothing were the matter, and offered her niece a piece of cake.

“Aunt Kitty, please,” Eleanor said desperately as she sat down upon the chair facing her aunt, trying to retain some semblance of composure, “if you are going to give me another lecture about the proper way to address oneself to gentlemen callers—“

“Come now, Eleanor, don’t you think you deserve it!” Kitty cried, her voice still light, but her eyes betraying a sense of concern. “What a fright you have given your Aunt Georgiana. Flirting is all good and well, Eleanor, and at times necessary. But to behave so outrageously in front of Georgie – how could you not have known that you would be reprimanded! Besides that, I have it on good authority that you were behaving splendidly until mention of a certain gentleman.”

“What!” Eleanor cried, trying to ignore the feeling in her chest that she had been found out.

“Please, spare me your looks of innocence. Everyone knows that you have been in love with Henry Brand since you were a little girl. And nothing seems to have changed – one mention of him in your mother’s letter and you behave like a spurned lover, flirting with every single gentlemen caller that breathes. You will compromise your reputation!”

Eleanor hung her head, a tear sliding down her cheek. “I do not know what’s come over me, Aunt,” and then she looked up fiercely, “And I don’t know why everyone is so convinced that I am in love with Henry!”

“Well aren’t you?”

“No!”

“Well then, there is no excuse for your behavior. Eleanor you must reserve your attentions for only those gentlemen in whom you are seriously interested. If you continue as you have been, I will have no choice but to send for your father. Is that understood?”

“Of course!” the girl cried, more tears spilling down her cheeks.

“You are a good girl, Ellie. I do not see that your behavior was so very bad, but you know how solemn the Darcy’s are. Imagine your father or Georgie ever flirting! Upon principle, it simply is not fair to lead poor young men along when you have no intention of ever thinking of them seriously.”

After a few more words of admonishment, Kitty gave her niece leave. With her hand on the door knob, Kitty suddenly exclaimed, “Oh, I forgot to mention it!”

“What else,” Eleanor said slowly as she turned, “were you supposed to mention?”

“Oh, well, I suppose it is nothing of consequence, since apparently you care nothing for him. Henry Brand is in town and is waiting to speak with you in the parlor. How silly of me not to have remembered it!”

“Very silly indeed,” Eleanor thought vehemently as she closed the study door firmly behind her and turned in the direction of the parlor.

Chapter Seven

Posted on Sunday, 16 April 2006

It took nearly fifteen minutes for Eleanor to finally muster enough courage to walk down the length of the hallway and open the parlor door. She paced back and forth several times, chewing her lip and wringing her hands, wondering how she managed to find herself in such awkward situations. During her childhood, she had always been the one nervously wracking her brain for some sort of explanation to give to her parents about why their antique vase was shattered into ten thousand pieces, while Edmund and Henry sat in a corner grinning foolishly, seemingly never worried about a thing. And now here she was, trying to come up with an explanation for Henry!

How could she have behaved so foolishly? It seemed as though the past two weeks were some sort of dream, and all of the young men she had smiled upon vague characters from an obscure play. Her behavior had not been intended to injure her parents, or her Aunts, nor any of the handsome young men. In the end, she realized that her behavior could only hurt herself, her own reputation, her own heart. But if not to torment her relatives, or some acquaintance, then why would she behave so irrationally? I could, Eleanor thought quickly, blame it upon my delicate female nature, due to the natural instability of my condition as a woman. Of course this idea seemed to her ludicrous, and she could never convince herself of this argument, let alone her family, which seemed to abound in strong-willed women. She thought fleetingly that perhaps she could come up with an excuse because of the absence of her parents, but she knew that this, too, was ridiculous. Whenever she chose to conduct herself in a correct manner it was not because they told her to, or because she feared punishment, but because she wanted to do right out of respect for herself.

With a tightening in her chest, Eleanor understood that she was afraid of the real reason she was behaving irrationally. It was something that she would not admit, even to herself, and tried not to think of at all costs. Now the issue had been forced upon her – by her own behavior, no less! The truth was that she still felt herself to be in love with Henry Brand, and could not stand to think of him with any other woman but herself! “This is most ridiculous!” Eleanor cried to the air, and dashed a tear from her eye. At that moment, she realized that she had tarried for far too long in the hallway, and resignedly turned the knob and walked into the parlor.

Henry was standing at the window, looking down upon the passersby below, and did not turn at her entrance. Eleanor did not mind the silence, for she was quickly trying to formulate a plan of defense. Now that she had admitted to herself what she had been denying all along, how was she going to escape not admitting this to everyone else, or to him – especially when everyone seemed to know it already? As if any of it made any sense at all. Henry chose to break her thoughts at that moment by turning abruptly with a sly grin.

“What on earth have you been up to, Ella? Everyone seems to be quite frantic.”

The young lady angrily puffed air out through her lips. “Henry, I know that this is your occupation, but if I had thought you were going to give me a sermon, I should not have come down here to see you.”

Henry tsked and shook his head. “What would you expect from me, then? After all, I have been sent here by your mother to look after you. Don’t you think you deserve a stern lecture?”

“That is exactly what Aunt Kitty said, and no. Henry, I think that at least from you, I deserve no such lecture!”

“I am not an outrageous flirt!” Henry cried indignantly.

“A point which is highly debatable!” cried the lady. “Have forgotten that you are addressing the woman who knows you better than any other? Half the girls of my acquaintance were simply devastated when you left the country.”

Henry shrugged, the grin returning to his face. “Can I help it if they couldn’t resist falling in love with me?”

“Henry, that is not funny. You are impossible!”

“Ella, you tell me this every time we meet, to no avail. Perhaps it is not me, it’s you!”

“What of Emily then. Mama wrote that you were getting along swimmingly, and taking lovely long walks together in the gardens.”

Henry seemed flabbergasted. “Madam, I have no idea what you are speaking of, or why your mother would write such a thing.”

“Well,” Eleanor cried impatiently, “have you or not? If it were not true, then why would Mama write it?”

“Of course I have taken walks with Emily, but only ever in the company of your grandfather and two brothers. I suppose she came along because she enjoys the company of people close to her age,” he paused and looked at her keenly. “Ella, if you are trying to imply that I am interested in your cousin as a conquest, the idea is simply ludicrous and you should put it from your mind forthwith.”

Eleanor chose not to reply, and after a few moments of contemplation decided that a change in subject would be the safest way to proceed. “Mama sent you to what? Look after me?”

“And see that you don’t get yourself into trouble. Really, Ella, you have the uncanny ability to find yourself in the most ridiculous scrapes.”

“Mama sent you to see that I don’t get into trouble?” Eleanor’s mirth could no longer be contained, she started to laugh. “The most trouble I’ve gotten into during the whole course of my life has always – always – involved you!” Soon they were both laughing so hard that it became impossible to stand, so they sat facing each other in two stiff chairs. As the laughter dissipated, the solemnity returned, and Eleanor could not deny the acute twinge of disappointment she felt because he had not come of his own accord. They sat in silence, each collecting their own thoughts and trying desperately to think of something very clever to say.

At length Eleanor resolved that the situation was beyond cleverness, and that perhaps the truth would serve them both much better. “First of all, why would Mama think that you are the person who should look after me, and secondly, why you could not have come on your own?”

“I cannot answer for your mother, no doubt she has her own secret motives for everything. As to the second question, I was under the impression that you would not want me to come,” he answered frankly and they both searched each other’s expressions. “Cannot we be honest to each other? You know the truth, you’ve know it all along. We’ve both tried to deny it – we’ve spent years denying it. Can’t we—“

“No, we can’t, Henry,” Eleanor said, her eyes swelling with tears.

“You always interrupt me!” Henry cried, standing and returning to the window. “Every time I speak, come close to – to telling you what I want, you chose to tell me I cannot! Eleanor? Do you really wish for me to forever be silent?”

Eleanor stared at her hands as the tears dripped slowly onto them, and there was a slight shake of her head. Henry paused, not entirely sure whether this meant that she did or did not want him to say anything, but as she continued in silence, he could think of nothing better to do than blunder on.

“I love you, Eleanor,” he said, and if she was not mistaken, she detected a slight catch in his voice as he said it. “I have always loved you. I thought that it would pass as time went on, and I knew – I’ve always known that I should not, should never have allowed myself to love you. But I do, I cannot deny it any longer.” He waited in silence and she chose not to look up at him. She could not, knowing the moment she did, she would loose all semblance of control that remained.

“This,” she said slowly as she felt her voice break, “is why I always interrupt you! You think that I do not know – that I cannot see it in your eyes? And you cannot pretend that you do not know how much I love you!” In a breath he had gathered her in his arms, giving her no other choice but to look into his eyes. “I love you, Henry,” she said softly, “but that does not change the way anything is. And now we have made it much more difficult to go on as things were before.”

“You cannot mean that,” he said quickly, “there must be some way, I thought – do you think me so beneath you?” she hung her head, and he released her from his grasp.

“It is not only that –“ Eleanor began, but he had already retreated to the other side of the room.

“Pray, madam, explain what it is then? For there is no doubt of it in my mind when your favorite suitors happen to be Lords and Earls and other sorts like that. None of them, for all of their fine airs and prestigious education, could love you as I do!”

Eleanor’s cheeks flushed with anger. “If you loved me so much then why did you leave me? All of your professions of love, and your promise! Did you remember that? You promised to marry me, Henry. A secret engagement, what a laugh! Did I receive so much as a letter or a word, or even a visit? You disappeared, and I was under the impression that I would never see you again.”

“I wanted you to forget me!” Henry cried taking a step towards her. “Do you not think that I do not understand your fears, the obstacles which we would face if we were to really…” he shook his head and sat down. “There is nothing I could offer you, I have nothing to give. I am sorry for all of the pain that I have caused you.”

“You – you are forgiven, if only you can forgive me as well,” Eleanor said quietly.

“You know I could never hold anything against you, Ella. There is nothing to forgive. And if you have forgiven me, then perhaps now you can be free of me.” He rose and reached for his coat, which draped over the chair.

“Henry, I—“

“No, please. Let this be my turn to interrupt. I cannot… I do not have the strength. I am returning to Derbyshire, and will give your parents a sterling report if only you will promise not to get into trouble. Don’t marry some fool because you are angry with me. I will not hold you to your promise.”

“And I will not hold you to yours,” Eleanor replied, “so that you might be free of me.”

He merely shrugged his coat on slowly and moved towards to door. Eleanor frantically searched her brain, trying to sort out her thoughts, trying to understand her feelings. Free. Freedom from what? Her love? Her hope? Or perhaps her anger? How could she tell him that the only thing she wanted was for him to take her into his arms, when she was not sure of what she wanted herself? As she wondered, the door was closed, and she felt that certainly there was no other course of action but to throw herself upon the sofa and cry until she could cry no more.

Chapter Eight

Posted on Monday, 24 April 2006

As the door shut firmly behind him, Henry straightened and took a slow breath. He knew that Eleanor was weeping, could feel her tears almost the moment they had begun, but he could not with resolve return to her. Both had made their declarations known to each other, their fears – and she had made her choice. There was no question in the matter, although perhaps an acute stain of regret. If he could give anything to be able to dry her tears, he would give it – even to know if her tears were because she cared for him, or because he had made a nuisance of himself. Women, he decided firmly, were utterly impossible to understand, and there was not point in dwelling upon the matter. They had been open with one another. At least that was a step in the right direction. But the direction of what? What was it that he had said about being free from her? Henry shook his head and moved forward.

Whatever he had said, it was with the best intentions. Of course he did not want her to be free of him – and it was ridiculous to assume that he would ever be free of her. There was also the question of his living, to have them both so close to one another, to put up with pleasantries and formalities year after year. The idea suddenly struck him that if Eleanor were to marry, he would be asked perform the ceremony. Even she could never do that to me, the very thought! Several plans of escape crossed his mind feverishly, but there were no possibilities. He could not forsake his father, nor move him out of his own selfishness. There was nothing for it but to put the past behind and stride forward with confidence and assurance. As soon as he was able, he would leave for another parish. He would be civil, gracious, kind – many things were possible if one put ones strength to it. However, some were too much to ask of any man. If Eleanor were to marry, he would be forced to defer the privileges of office to another, (more experienced), clergyman.

With this matter satisfactorily resolved, Henry was able to enjoy his journey back to Pemberley. He would forget – and in the meantime concentrate on his work, his family and, (most importantly at the moment), what meal was being prepared for him when he reached home.

That night, Eleanor entered her room very quietly in hopes of not disturbing her cousin. The afternoon following her conversation with Henry had been full of difficulties, including an inquisition conducted by her Aunt, along with another bout of tears. Unfortunately, Abby’s bright face bounced up at the first creak of the bedroom floorboards, and she began to accost her with questions.

“Why were you so unhappy today, Eleanor?”

“Abby, you are supposed to be asleep!”

“What did that man have to say to you? He was very handsome.”

Eleanor let out an exasperated sigh, “Please do not pester me. I am not in the mood.”

“Is he in love with you?” the girl’s eyes were eager, and Eleanor, exhausted as she was, could not help but feel sympathetic.

“Of course he is in love with me, or rather was.”

“But if he isn’t in love you with now, then why would he have come to talk to you?”

“It is much too complicated, Abby—“

“Are you in love with him?” Instead of a reply, Eleanor savagely tossed a pillow and knocked Abby back onto the bed. “Ah, see! So you do like him! Will you be married soon?”

“You are much too young to be thinking of such things!”

“Well, are you?”

“No,” Eleanor said slowly, “We are not.”

“Why not?”

“Because we are very different.”

“Is it because he does not have as much money as you do?”

“Abby, how could you even—“

The girl wrinkled her nose, “You never notice anything, Ellie! His coat did not seen as nice as the one Papa or Uncle Darcy wears. It was much more ordinary, and better for playing games in. What is wrong with being poor? It seems like it would be much more fun.”

Eleanor paused, “There is nothing wrong with being poor. But Henry is not poor – he is just not very rich.”

“I liked him, he seemed nice.”

“You like everybody, Abby,” Eleanor smiled, “now go to bed!”

The little girl protested that, indeed, she was not tired, but at length her eyes drooped and the effort to keep them open proved stronger than her desire to stay awake. Eleanor lay in silence, listening to the steady breathing of her cousin next to her. It was true. Henry was not poor, although marriage to him would be far more difficult than to a man like Lord Chauncey. Any children they had would not have fortunes of any kind to speak of, and her own life would be changed drastically from the way that it was. Was their love enough, could she be happy? Or perhaps the question was, could she be happy without him? Now her anger was past, her confusion was somewhat lifted. With a sharp intake of breath, Eleanor knew that she could not do without him, she was miserable.

A million thoughts ran through her brain at once; her family’s expectations, her father’s inevitable disapproval, her position, his position, and then they all flew to the back of her mind. None of them would prove to be of any consequence unless she won him back. Henry had offered – and she had blatantly refused. He would not, having laid his heart open once, offer again. She knew this with certainty. He was not one to stoop and grovel for any woman’s hand – what was done was done. Unless, of course, she could show him that she truly loved him and would endeavor to deserve him. That was the rub. He had his faults, and there was the problem of their place in society, but he had proved himself to be constant, loving and kind – and he had offered an apology first. His recent behavior was, in every respect, irreproachable.

Hers, on the other hand, was laughable. The first step was, (Eleanor yawned as she struggled to think clearly), to redeem herself as a respectable and modest girl, not prone to ridiculous flirtation. This would take some work. The second was to refuse Lord Chauncey when he offered – for she knew he would do so if only out of a sense of responsibility to secure an eligible match. Eleanor was about to come to her third resolution when she dozed off, and was forced to leave it until the morning.

Henry had not counted on Mrs. Darcy. He arrived late into the night, astonishing his father with his quick return, and early the next morning received a message from Pemberley that Mrs. Darcy wished to speak with him.

“Are you well, Henry,” were the first words spoken, “I trust your trip was not too tiresome?”

“No, indeed, madam. The journey was pleasant enough.” Henry glanced around the pretty sitting room, at the sunlight dancing along the walls. Elizabeth felt that he was expressly avoiding her eyes.

“What of Eleanor? Did you speak with her?” He bowed in acquiescence, which made her feel slightly annoyed. “And what did she say? Although you have marvelously avoided my questioning many times before, I know that you love her. Have you come to an understanding?”

“We understand each other perfectly, madam,” Henry said stiffly, “and have reconciled our differences. Miss Darcy will not be any trouble to you madam, indeed she rarely falls into mischief when left to her own devices.”

“You are saying that her flirtatious behavior was your fault.”

Henry paused. “Perhaps the result of many things, but yes, I believe the result of a misunderstanding that occurred between us many years ago, that has now been resolved.”

“How has it been resolved, Henry. Do not play words with me, I have not the patience!”

“We have forgiven each other of past wrongs, and are now free to pursue our separate paths without the inhibition of… each other.”

“So you did not come to an understanding.”

“Not in the sense that you are implying, Mrs. Darcy.”

“I see. Well, then, I will ask my first question again. Are you well, Henry?”

“Perfectly well. Is there any other way that I can be of service to you this morning?”

“No, thank you for you time.” Elizabeth sighed heavily as the young man left the room. Only a few minutes later, her husband joined her, seeming puzzled.

“Is Henry well? He looked rather grim.”

Elizabeth gave a short laugh, “If you can be still well after having gone through an inquisition from me, then I should say that he is holding up splendidly! Oh, Fitzwilliam, I do not know what to do. My plan has utterly failed.”

Fitzwilliam raised his eyebrows, “There was a plan involved?”

“Do not pretend to be in the dark! You know that I have been trying to help Eleanor and Henry come to understanding.”

“Even though I gave my express opinion that I did not approve of such a match?”

“Fitzwilliam, how could you appose it when they are so obviously in love!”

He shook his head, “No, no, I will not continue thus! I have given up matchmaking entirely, ever since that ridiculous debacle with Bingley.”

“Yes, and we all know how that turned out,” Elizabeth arched a brow.

Fitzwilliam threw up his hands in exasperation. “I have changed my mind. This child will be another son.”

“I am very grateful for that, I had no idea that girls could be so much trouble! How lucky we are, indeed, that we have only had one,” she laughed.

“I do not think I could bear it in my old age – one woman in the house is more than enough to drive a man to insanity!”

“Fitzwilliam, it is not becoming when you are so fierce. I am deeply offended.”

“Come, Lizzy, you know I jest. What would I do without you?”

“I am sure that you could think of something, but then life, perhaps, would not be quite so…”

“Interesting?” Fitzwilliam finished.

“Not the exact word I was searching for," Elizabeth's eyes sparkled, "but it will do!”

Chapter Nine

Posted on Saturday, 3 June 2006

Eleanor sat across from her mother primly, the raptures of their first meeting having already taken place moments before. They silently appraised each other, taking in the minute changes in expression and manner that had taken place over the course of four months.

Elizabeth broke the silence by laughing, "Eleanor, do not pretend to be sly. I can see in a glance that you have not changed in the slightest!"

Eleanor feigned shock, "You cannot possibly mean that! Do I not possess a certain dignity and elegance that did not exist before? After all, I am now a spinster, having survived my first season without engagement."

Her mother eyed her keenly. "But not without marriage proposals."

Eleanor blushed and ducked her head, "No, I was not able to escape that particular situation, but have manage to remain unscathed."

"Have you?" her mother asked softly.

Eleanor sighed. "Mama, you know that I have not been completely open with you. I do not know why, for we have always been the closest of confidants. He has not broken my heart by any means. He has been everything honest and everything honorable. If there is fault in the matter it is entirely mine. I broke my own heart, and I must mend it."

"So he did propose to you!"

"What," Eleanor started, "Who?"

"Why, Henry, of course."

"Henry! No, no, of course not."

"Of whom are you speaking?"

"Why, Henry, of course."

"Eleanor, you are not making any sense at all. Do you mean to tell me that Henry did not make an offer of marriage, but someone else did?" Elizabeth was decidedly confused.

"Yes. Actually two offers from very handsome and respectable gentlemen."

"And you refused both."

"Naturally! I did not love them," Eleanor was incredulous.

"Although you did flirt with them," her mother could not help but mention. Eleanor chose not to reply, but the blush which spread across her cheeks betrayed all. "Do not be uneasy, dearest," Elizabeth continued, "You aunt wrote to me immediately after your behavior improved."

Eleanor took a moment to gulp down her tea as elegantly as possible. "Why would you suppose that Henry had proposed to me? Surely you know that I would have told you if he had."

"Because I told him to," Elizabeth set down her cup with a slight crash. "I am astonished that he did not."

Eleanor laughed, "Mama, for all of your talk, you know that none of us pay any mind to it! Henry would never propose to me on orders, nor would I wish him to. What possessed you?"

Elizabeth was rumpled. "Whatever do you mean, no one minds me, indeed! He was not under orders, I only hoped that with my encouragement he might feel that it would be possible. You know that he wishes it."

"I have no idea what he wishes at present," for a moment Eleanor rested her head on her hand, and then lifted her eyes determinedly to her mother's. "I cannot speak of it, not now. We have reached an understanding -- that is to say, we are not engaged nor ever planning to do so. We understand each other perfectly well. I am resigned. I do not think that I shall be able to stay long at Pemberley. Not while he is near to me. I cannot bear it."

Elizabeth reached out and took her hand. "Of course you may leave, when ever you wish to. But I do not know what I shall do without you, dearest. How we have missed you."

"And I you," Eleanor replied. "I will stay through Christmas, perhaps, and then rejoin Aunt Kitty in town. Will that give us enough time? You do not know how greatly I am looking forward to the little one's arrival. I do not want to leave before everything is settled comfortably. Of course I know that you have managed perfectly well without me four other times, but --"

"I would not want to manage without you," both unconsciously looked down at Elizabeth's expanding belly, "I will not have Jane with me. That will make everything different."

"She died on a day much like this one, so bright and beautiful."

"But then how the earth wept after she had departed it," Elizabeth said softly, caressing the child within her.

"I did not know that someone could cry so much, my tears seemed endless. I am afraid, Mama. Afraid for you and for the child."

"You are no more afraid than I am." Elizabeth sat silently, gripping her daughter's hand. It seemed as though she wished to say more, but knew not how.

"Mama," Eleanor said softly, "you do not have to be so strong. You may weep, and I will weep with you."

The two held each other, crying in their sorrow, but also their joy. The morning was a beautiful one, and the sunshine seemed to shine brightly, even through their tears.

As soon as it was known that Miss Darcy was returning to Pemberley, Henry found an excuse to avoid her. He left the day before she arrived, on an errand to fetch his sister, Evie, from the North, where she attended school. Their journey was not long, but managed to keep them from crossing paths for two weeks straight. Upon his return, although Eleanor and Emily walked down to the parsonage to call upon Evie and her father, Henry was locked up in his library, studying to regain the time lost on his journey. Eleanor was pained by this obvious avoidance, but understood it, and accepted it.

The warm days of July slipped lazily into August. While the weather lasted, the Darcy children (if they could still be called children) enjoyed the sun, going on picnic after picnic, excursion upon excursion. Edmund returned for a short time, and Eleanor and Emily together would follow at a respectable distance to watch the boys experiment with fire. Henry participated in these events as much as possible, with cordial nods in Eleanor's direction. But his involvement in such dangerous activities was drastically curbed due to his newfound responsibilities as clergyman, although he had been their leader in earlier days.

Elizabeth found the warm weather, (and her sons wild activities), particularly trying for her nerves, however much she tried to hide them. As time went on, Eleanor found herself taking on much of her mother's household duties, with Emily at her side as a knowledgeable confidant. The two girls had much to learn from each other, Eleanor sharing her newfound knowledge of the world. Emily by nature was easy tempered and self giving, and from her, Eleanor learned much of gentleness. With the cooling effects of autumn, and in spite of the ever increasing rain, Elizabeth began to spend more time out of doors walking slowly on the arm of her husband whenever he could spare a moment. The changing colors of the season reflected the mood of the household, each in his own way wondering what the addition of a small child would bring to the family. The birth of the babe came somewhat unexpectedly, occurring three weeks before the event had been anticipated. Elizabeth's pains began easily, and she continued on for most of the day as if nothing at all were the matter.

At length, with some forceful encouragement from her husband, Elizabeth resigned herself to confinement to her room, and everyone steeled themselves for a long wait. The reaction to this event was different for each person. Grandfather Bennet did not seem much concerned, and requested that he be removed from the house until the affair was over. Young William, whose face was strained with worry, happily offered to transport him over to the Parish so that he might be able to play chess with the Reverend Brand. Godfrey took to pacing the halls, his hands clasped firmly behind him. Bingley sat in a chair, laughing and trying to keep the young man's courage up, explaining that it was much worse when it was a wife of one's own. Eleanor and Emily did not much know what to do with themselves, they visited Elizabeth from time to time. As the evening progressed, due to their delicate natures as young maidens, they were no longer permitted in the birthing room. To own the truth, although curious, both were relieved, and chose to join Godfrey and Bingley in the halls.

Fitzwilliam was loyalty itself. During the births of his other children, it had been his custom to remain in the hall with Bingely, and allow Jane and the doctors full reign. But this time, in spite of the loud protests of the physician, he remained at Elizabeth's side through all. The birth was difficult, for Elizabeth's pains did not come consistently, which caused a prolonged labor. To Fitzwilliam, it was a marvel to behold. When at last the tiny newborn was placed squalling into his arms, he was so overcome that he could not speak. The infant was small, but had a lusty voice and an eagerness for food, which Elizabeth immediately relieved. Once the baby was relinquished, Fitzwilliam, stroked his wife's face tenderly, and then bounded from the room. Arriving breathlessly in the hall, he gasped out,

"It is finished; the babe has arrived healthy and strong!"

"And Mama?" cried Eleanor.

"Perfectly sound."

"And the babe? Son or daughter?" Charles asked eagerly, his eyes wistful.

"Daughter," Fitzwilliam replied, coming to embrace his friend, "she will be named Jane, Charles. And she is beautiful."

Chapter Ten

Posted on Tuesday, 27 June 2006

It was common knowledge among all of the servants in Pemberley that Miss Jane Darcy would be the most spoiled child to grace the premises in a hundred years. Mrs. Reynolds could speak of nothing else for days. The wonders of her ten fingers and toes, elfish ears and wispy brown hair were discussed to utter exhaustion. She was, beyond a doubt, the most beautiful baby to ever have been born. Her parents could not disagree with this statement, although they would add that their other four children were equally marvelous when they first arrived.

As was to be expected, each member of the family took to Jane in a different fashion. Godfrey was delighted with the child. He held her awkwardly, pronounced that she seemed much too small, and most definitely had his ears. "See how they point just like mine?" he said proudly, and then handed the infant to Eleanor. She was enthralled. She counted all of the slender fingers and toes, and stroked her soft cheeks with wonder. It was some time before she would relinquish the child to anyone else, but she did so at length with a laugh, and a kiss to her mother's cheek. Grandfather Bennet remarked that it was lucky she was a girl and not a boy, for how unfortunate to be the fourth son in line? But his flippancy could fool no one, and the pride in his eyes as he smiled at Elizabeth was unmistakable. Young William was another matter all together. Little Jane and he seemed to be uneasy with each other, but at length, William smiled, and said "It is a marvel that two persons of such an age could produce something so very young." Elizabeth, in spite of her weakened state, managed to throw a pillow at him.

The next few days were spent in familial bliss. A kind of peace settled over the household, a glow in Elizabeth's cheeks that her older children had never witnessed before. Everyone was appalled by the amount of crying and eating that the little child accomplished, but their distress was soon forgotten when once she began to sleep. The arrival of Edmund, and the unity of the family, brought even more happiness. He seemed to be only amazed at the thought of producing one of his own children sometime in the foreseeable future.

"If you think it over, dearest," Elizabeth remarked to her husband one evening just before bed, "Jane will never be able to grow up with her brothers and sister, not in the same way they did as children."

"No doubt, she will be closer in age to her nieces and nephews than to her siblings!"

"That is rather sad, in some ways. I know Edmund feels it. He keeps shaking his head and muttering, 'young enough to be my child,' although he is young himself to be having children."

"I should have guessed that Eleanor might be the first to bless us with grandchildren, although she does not seem to be pursuing any prospects in that regard at all, however ferociously she began."

"Fitzwilliam, I do not know how long it will be. She was very much in love with Henry," Elizabeth said softly.

He reached over to stroke the babe's head before replying softly, "And he with her, otherwise why this ridiculous avoidance of our household! Every invitation to dine, and he is busy with some affair."

"Are you so opposed to the match that you would refuse your permission, should they come to an understanding?"

"No, Elizabeth, I do not think I could deny her anything now. Not her true love, never that." He smiled as little Jane yawned. "This will, of course, put all the more pressure on Jane to marry well. We can't have everyone in the family marrying paupers."

"Of course we could," Elizabeth retorted flippantly, "What is wealth and riches to true love?"

Fitzwilliam seemed apologetic, "You taught me that many years ago, and I shall never forget it."

Elizabeth laughed as she kissed him, "Fitzwilliam, you must not be so solemn, I cannot bear it!"

It was on a cold, late November morning that Eleanor put on her new coat and turned her steps towards the misty alcove on the far side of the garden. She knew whom she hoped to look for, but why on this particular morning she felt the need to seek him out mystified even her own keen sense of self-understanding. She mused that perhaps it was the way he had looked on Sunday morning, the brief smile before it was caught back by his detached greeting. She could not bear to see the way his eyes were always so far removed from hers. He had never before withheld his feelings from her. But this was something she had grown accustomed to; it began after their dreadful encounter in London, and deepened over the following months. She had not wished to reach out to him as much as he wanted to escape from her.

Or was it her father's question the pervious night? They sat across from each other in the library, as was their custom, and he suddenly looked up. "Are you happy, Eleanor," was his question. Eleanor was so surprised that she did not know what to say. She eventually stammered that of course she was happy, there was no reason for her not to be. Her father simply smiled for a moment, almost as if sad, and then said quietly, "You know I could never oppose anything that would make you happy." The conversation was at an end, and Eleanor was thrown into a torrent of emotions, most of which she had been trying to forget for the past five months.

Her steps moved quickly, and soon she found herself staring into the barren grove. He was not there. The wind bit at her lips coldly, seeming to echo her disappointed sentiments. It came as a shock when he spoke behind her,

"Miss Darcy. I had not expected to see you in this part of the garden. I thought that you had abandoned it."

"Henry," she turned slowly to face him, pulling a loose strand of hair out of her lips, "you have an uncanny knack for surprise. Do you always appear when you are least expected?"

There was no reply, and the young man moved quickly to a tree and hoisted himself unto its branches. "Least expected. So you did not walk all this way to encounter me. Pray, do you have any other secret lovers whom you meet in this grove?"

Eleanor stamped her foot in anger, her words forming sharp puff of steam in the frigid air. "Henry, you were always too cruel, even when we were children! We cannot quarrel without you making some ridiculously cutting remark. Does it make you feel happier, to know that I am suffering? Does it lessen your own pain to know that I feel my own? For what other motive could you possibly --"

"Enough!" Henry jumped down suddenly, his face two feet from her own.

"It is enough!" she replied, "You are envious! Envious that I had admirers, envious of my position because of your own--"

"Must we go through this again," the young man cried, running a hand through his hair as he turned from her and walked two paces away, only to turn back, "I envy nothing, nothing of your position. Only the fact, that because of our positions, you could never be mine, nor I yours. I could offer you nothing to compare with the life you have known, the life which it has been your privilege to experience."

"Henry," she sank to the ground and put her head in her hands as hot tears began to fall, "that life means nothing to me. Not without you. I was such a fool, and so wrong to sport with you, to drive you to jealousy. Did you not even notice that my behavior is improved?"

"Ella," he said softly, lifting her chin with his hand, "I do not ever mean to cause you pain. Do not weep because of me." She lifted one hand to rest on his, and with the other reached out to pull his face to hers. "Please," he whispered, "do not tempt me with your eyes. Everything is forgiven, I thought that was made clear at our last meeting."

"Our last meeting was bitter, and if you had meant to forgive me, you would not have said anything about any secret lovers," she almost laughed as he reached to kiss her forehead, "Oh, how stubborn I have been," she continued as he moved down to kiss her nose and then her cheeks.

"How I love you," he whispered, and she smiled.

"And I you," came her reply.

"Please, forgive me, Ella," he said between caresses. "Your stubbornness is nothing compared to my obstinacy."

"Shall we quarrel then, over who was the worst behaved?"

"Oh no, for there is not question that you are always the worst behaved. I always have good intentions. They just seem to go horribly astray --"

"If you keep kissing my face and not my lips than I shall be forced to agree!"

Henry was only too happy to oblige, and all was forgiven.

Happiness in a fleeting emotion, it comes and goes as quickly as the weather, (and sometimes with it). So when Fitzwilliam asked his daughter if is she were happy, he, of course, meant that inner joy one feels when all is right in the world, and you have a sense of hope that each day might be better than the last. It would be foolish to pretend that Eleanor's marriage to Henry was not without its trials. With so many Aunts, the organizing of such an event in the first place was enough to send Elizabeth into flutterings, and the young couple desperately wishing for the convenience of Gretna Green. They did not remain at Pemberley for long, although the few years spent there were full of joy and good wishes. Which such a couple, undoubtedly the quarreling would never cease completely, but the love and respect each carried for the other overcame any obstacles met.

And what of the Darcy's and little Jane? As it happened, Elizabeth was not the only woman in her family who found herself unexpectedly with child. Kitty brought forth another son. Mary, who had been childless, produced a lovely girl, which for some time she had no idea what to do with. Georgiana also found herself hoping for a babe, but her wishes ended in disappointment, and Eleanor, whose first trial ended in similar miscarriage, bore her through this grief. Many remarked that little Jane kept Mr. and Mrs. Darcy young for the next twenty years -- long enough to see her grown and married into her own home. All of their children married and produced children, Eleanor the first with Edmund soon to follow. It was young William whom they had cause to worry over, for he preferred his books, and did not look up from them for another fifteen years at least. When at last he did marry, it was a cause of great celebration.

They sat together in the garden on a spring day when everything around them seemed to be alive with energy and beauty. Fitzwilliam's hair showed not a trace of the fine color he had possessed in his youth, and Elizabeth's had fared only slightly better. She ran her fingers softly through his hair, and then laughed as she looked over to where their children and grandchildren talked and scampered about. "You know Fitzwilliam," she began, "being loved and cared for by one's family, however eccentric, is a fine way to grow old if one has to." Her husband could not agree more.

Finis