Section I, Next Section
Part 1 Posted on Monday, 8 February 1999
A young man, in his early-twenties, sat in a dimly-lit room in an apartment in New York City, just outside of New Jersey. He was studying for a test, apparently. Around him were various books of law. The telephone rang, and he got up to answer it, stretching slowly.
"Yeah?"
"William?" said the voice over the phone.
"Yeah, Dad. What's up?"
"Willie, boy, I need you to come and watch Georgie for a while. An emergency came up. Can't talk about it right now. Can you come?"
Will rolled his eyes at the diminutive only his father used.
"Dad, I ... well, see, I'm studying for this test, you know, and ... why can't you get Aunt Catherine to watch her?" Will grimaced at the thought of his aunt sweeping into the house. Poor Georgie would definitely have nightmares if Aunt Catherine watched her. But this was a very important test.
"Anne had another attack of the chicken pox."
"I thought you could only get that once."
"Well, you know Anne. She's ... different."
Will sighed and looked at his watch.
"Fine. I'll be there in ten minutes."
"Great. Bye."
Ten Minutes Later:
William Darcy, Cadet at the New York Police Department, drove up to his father's huge house, leapt out of his car, and ran up the steps. Throwing the door open, he panted, "Dad? I'm here! You can leave now!"
"Will-am?" piped up a small voice from the staircase.
"Georgie!" he cried, picking the little girl up, and tossing her fondly in the air. She squealed in delight as she came crashing down into his arms.
"Georgiana, where's Daddy?"
"Daddy left. He had a eee...merge job."
"Emergency," Will corrected, a little miffed at his father's disappearance. It seemed he was always doing this - going off on a "secret mission," without telling anybody anything about it.
"That's what I said. Eee...merge job." Although she was eight years old, she still had a childish lisp to her speech.
"Okay," Will said cheerfully, "so... how about a tea party?"
Georgiana grinned.
"No. You have to catch me first."
She ran out of the hall, and Will took off after her.
Two hours later, the phone rang. William, still chasing his sister around the house, took a time-out to answer it. He collapsed onto the sofa and picked up the receiver.
"Darcy residence. William speaking."
There was a lot of static on the other line. He held the receiver away from himself for a moment, to tug at his ear. Georgie came up to him curiously, with a finger in her mouth.
"What's that?" he asked.
"Mr. Darcy," came the muffled voice, "your father has had an accident."
"Oh, Lord," Will breathed, immediately sitting up. "How is he? Is he going to be all right?"
"Well, sir," the voice paused, "I think you should come to the hospital immediately."
William hung up the phone, grabbed Georgiana, who had been trying to eavesdrop on his conversation, and ran out to the car.
An hour later, William had conveniently dropped Georgiana off at his partner, Richard's house, despite the protestations of all three: Richard, Georgiana, and Richard's latest girlfriend, Kelly.
As soon as he arrived at the hospital where his father had been taken, he asked a nurse if he could see him.
"Your father's name, sir?"
"George Darcy."
The nurse looked up the name in the computers.
"I'm sorry, sir. He is currently being worked on."
"Worked on?" Will said, miffed again.
"He was brought in with multiple gun shot wounds. We're doing all we can..."
"Will he live?" he asked in a forced voice, ruffling one hand through his hair.
The nurse paused.
"We don't know yet, sir. We're doing everything we can, but ... I think you should prepare yourself for the worst."
William nodded, his eyes welling up. He sat down in a nearby chair, and waited. Eventually, he drifted off to sleep.
1:00 The Next Morning.
"Excuse me, Mr. Darcy?"
A voice interrupted his sleep. It was a nurse.
"What?" he asked, suddenly awake.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Darcy," the nurse said, shaking her head, "We lost him."
"You what?!"
"Well," the nurse stammered, obviously frightened, "you see, we were not able to locate the bullet in time. And there was so much internal bleeding. His heart was punctured both times, sir. He didn't have a chance." The nurse swallowed twice, embarrassed to be asking the next question. "Ahem. Sir, have you considered donating organs?"
"What?" Will cried, making the nurse jump. He ignored the question. "Let me see him."
Two aides rushed to the scene.
"Uh, sir, we can't let you do that."
"Why not?" he demanded.
"Well, uh," they stammered, looking at each other. They both shrugged. "They need to examine the body for ... evidence," one finally piped up. "We can't let it be damaged."
William struggled to keep his voice level.
"Don't be ridiculous. I only want to see him."
So saying, he shoved his way past the aides, and into the room where his George Darcy's body was waiting to be "examined."
He stood in the doorway for a few minutes, staring at his father's lifeless form on the examiner's table. Who could have done this? Who would have thought, three hours earlier, on the telephone, bickering with his father over who was to watch Georgiana....
He squared the shoulders determinedly, turned around, and walked back out of the room. No matter what, he was going to get even with whoever did this.
Part 2 Posted on Saturday, 20 February 1999
Eight Years Later,
Lieutenant William Darcy sat in his patrol car, carefully watching the house across the street. This house was rumored to be one of the biggest crack-houses in the city. The main dealer was a scum-bucket named George Wickham.
This George Wickham had gone to the same public school as Will, and they had known each other vaguely, which is to say they knew each other's names. Wickham had always been on the wrong side of the law, just barely keeping himself out of the penitentiary. And he was always in detention. Now he was selling cocaine and heroin to little kids, most likely to feed his own habit.
Darcy had not been able to find anything at all on whoever it was that had killed his father. He had gone through all the papers, asked the commissioner about his assignments, and had even grilled his father's partner, a Captain Frederick Wentworth. Nobody knew anything.
Earlier that morning, the commissioner had removed Darcy from the case.
"It's been eight years!" he had said. "This thing has ruined your life, what you've had of one since your father died. It's time to get on with life."
Darcy had, of course, protested strongly, but the commissioner was adamant. He was off the case. He glowered in his car as he thought about that interview. The commissioner had no right to take him off that case.
A blue Ferrari drove up to the house, and Darcy cautiously kept his head down so they wouldn't know anybody was watching them. He narrowed his eyes as George Wickham and two "heavies" got out of the car and went into the house.
"There they go," said Richard Fitzwilliam, his partner.
"Yup," said Darcy, then, "C'mon. Let's follow them. Call for back-up."
"Roger."
Darcy crept to the side of the house, holding his gun out in front of him. If all went well, he wouldn't need it, and he could take Georgiana to Disney World tomorrow for her seventeenth birthday. He heard a noise inside.
"This isn't nearly enough, George."
"That's too bad, Carl. It's all I got."
A gun cocked.
"Are you sure?"
Wickham sounded flustered.
"Well ... there might be some more in my car."
"There better be," Carl muttered.
They all started for the door. By this time, Fitzwilliam had joined Darcy under the window.
"You got the tear gas?"
Fitzwilliam felt around his belt.
"Crap!"
"Shush!" scolded Darcy.
The door opened, and five men stepped out, one of them holding a gun to Wickham's head.
"Freeze! Police!" shouted Darcy and Fitzwilliam at the same time, just as their back-up pulled around the corner.
Two of the men dropped their guns. Wickham gasped for air. The other two men started shooting at the two officers. Fitzwilliam ducked behind the wall, and started returning fire. Darcy rolled behind a tree, and did likewise. The two men who had dropped their guns disappeared. Wickham was still gasping and sobbing on the grass. Darcy made sure a bullet entered his leg, to keep him from running off like the coward he was. He sobbed all the more for that.
Meanwhile, a "heavy" had snuck up behind Fitzwilliam, knocked him over the head, and started shooting at Darcy from his vantage point. When a bullet nicked the tree close to his head, Darcy saw what had happened, and immediately found another tree. Slowly, but surely, Darcy made his way over to the window where Fitzwilliam was lying, and conked out the heavy. For a split second, he stood staring at the two unconscious men. This split second was all Carl needed. Now he snuck up behind Darcy, and hit him hard over the back of the head with his gun. Darcy felt a sharp pain in his head before blacking out. Carl rolled him over with his foot, then fired once at his chest.
Part 3 Posted on Sunday, 21 February 1999
When Darcy woke up, he found himself strapped to a chair in the middle of a large room which looked like the inside of a warehouse. His neck and legs were stiff from being in the same position for indeterminable amount of time, and it felt like somebody had drilled a hole into his chest.
There were two men and a young girl standing over on the other side of the room. This girl was clearly not a natural blonde, and her hair was frizzed up on her head in a mass of curls. She was wearing a leather skirt, and smacking her gum loudly. Darcy's headache increased with each pop.
"I dunno; he's kinda cute, Georgie," said the girl in what was clearly a Brooklyn accent. This irritated Darcy even more than the gum. "It would be kind of, like, a waste, to shoot him."
"We're not gonna shoot him, sweet thing," said Wickham, winking and rolling his eyes at the other man.
"Then why ya' got 'im here?"
Just then, Wickham realized Darcy was awake. He quickly told the other man to leave, and moved over to where Darcy was sitting.
"Well, well, sleepy-head's finally up! Sorry about the inconvenience, Officer," he said, motioning to the blood on Darcy's chest. Darcy thanked God he had remembered to wear his vest. "Carl was a fool to shoot. I had to shoot him myself."
"That creep wasn't worth the bullet," put in the girl.
"Hush up, Bambi. This is Bambi." he introduced her to Darcy.
"I'm his girl," said Bambi, nodding her head towards Wickham, who nodded approvingly at both of them. Darcy was now fully perplexed. The last he had seen of Wickham before losing consciousness was him writhing in agony on the grass. Now he wasn't even limping.
The truth was, Wickham was in a great deal of pain. But he knew the policeman would take a certain amount of pleasure from knowing that fact, so he was determined not to show it. Darcy, however, noticed a small trickle of blood dripping from Wickham's ankle, and allowed himself a small smirk.
"You see, old chum..." Wickham paused. "Ha! I don't even know your name! Lessee." He proceeded to thumb through Darcy's papers, looking for a name. "Ah! William Darcy. Okay. Now, you see, Billy, I need to know everything about your failed bust. I suppose it was supposed to be a bust. Anyway, back to the point. Your friends were pretty easy to clobber... I guess all coppers are the same. The cars won't be going anywhere for a while, either; I had to shoot the tires." He clucked his tongue, and Bambi looked at him sympathetically. "What a pity. All those tires. Anyway, now it's up to you to tell me what you know about me and my gang."
Darcy stared at him innocently. Bambi yawned, and started filing her nails.
"Don't you get it, creep!" Wickham shouted after waiting approximately five seconds, "I could have killed you! You could be dead! I saved your life, you ungrateful little..." he walloped Darcy on the head. Surprisingly, Darcy's headache went away. "Do you know my name?"
Darcy's face betrayed nothing.
"Well, I s'pose he does, Georgie. Who doesn't?"
"Bambi, go get me a drink." Wickham was obviously annoyed with 'his girl'.
"Shuh, honey."
"Isn't she something!" said Wickham as he watched her leave. "She's one of the Kings, you know. Yeah, she's got cash, that one." Then, getting back to the business at hand, "Can you talk at all?"
Darcy stared.
"I guess not."
Wickham stood back up and started pacing.
"You know, we killed your partner. What was his name? Gave him a proper burial, of course. Ah, well," he said, taking his cap off, "He's in a better place."
Darcy was seething now.
"Wait a minute!" Wickham cried after a moment of silence. "William Darcy, I remember you. Oh, yeah, Little Mr. Perfect... You had a sister, right? Named after me, wasn't she? Georgette? You know, come to think of it, I'll bet she's really pretty now. A bit skinny way back then, but I'll bet she's... Ahem. Well, you know, Bambi can get pretty tiresome. Maybe I'll seek out this Georgina." He looked over his shoulder at Darcy, who was staring at his shoes, dizzily, determined not to speak.
"How did you know we'd be dealing in that house?" Wickham asked quietly.
No answer. He repeated himself, but more loudly. Still no answer. Wickham stomped over, pointed a gun at the back of Darcy's chair, and shot the ropes that were tying Darcy's arms down. He pulled Darcy roughly to his feet. He repeated his original question. Darcy only stared, bracing himself for the inevitable. Wickham brought his fist soundly into his stomach, causing him to cough, raspingly. The slight wound in his stomach was beginning to fester. He was suddenly very dizzy. Wickham let him drop to his knees to catch his breath.
"You're a fool, Darcy. You've already lost a lot of blood; what would another bullet do? Especially if it's fired by someone who knows how to use a gun." he added dryly. "Now. This is your last chance. How did you know we'd be dealing at that house?"
Darcy thought of the little man who had informed on Wickham. They had, of course, put him in the witness protection program. The poor toad had been so frightened. Darcy mumbled something under his breath.
"What was that?" Wickham lowered his ear to Darcy's mouth.
"I called a psychic hotline. Libra told me."
This witticism earned him another smack over the head and a kick in the ribs.
Bambi came back with a drink for 'her man' - a Bud Lite - and after he drank it, he added one more vicious kick, crumpled his can with his foot, and left Bambi and Darcy alone.
Part 3 Posted on Wednesday, 24 February 1999
"He's a mean one, ain't he, Mr. ...?" Bambi said once Wickham had gone. When she received no answer, she said, "Aw, c'mon. You can talk t' me. I ain't interested in ya' like he is." Darcy had no answer. He slowly pulled himself back up, wincing slightly, and wiped one hand across his mouth. He grimaced when he saw blood.
"Y'know, mister, I ain't so happy here as I make out. It's crummy, actually. Can't go shopping, can't go out to eat, I'm even starting to miss school! Georgie, he takes all the money my parents send me, and buys more of that white stuff."
"Heroin." Darcy didn't realize he had said it aloud until he heard Bambi's reply.
"Naw, I ain't no heroine, mister. I jest love him, that's all."
Darcy would have chuckled, but when he tried a searing pain went through his chest, and burned up his neck to the bottom of his ears.
"But y'know, mister, it's wearing off. I think one of these days, I'm gonna go back to my parents. At least they let me go shopping." Bambi was now sitting on the floor, one knee propping up her elbow. She looked around the room for a while, then said,
"Y'know what, mister? I'm gonna get you outta here."
Darcy raised his eyebrows at her.
"Don't look at me like that! I get enough of that from Georgie!"
She walked over to one of the windows, and started struggling with the plywood over it.
"Ain't as easy as it looks, mister," she panted. She ran over to the other end of the room, picked up some sort of blunt object, and began pounding on the plywood. She was making a tremendous noise, which startled Darcy. He wasn't exactly in the mood to see George Wickham again.
"Hey!" he shouted, somehow making himself heart over the din. His head started pounding again, and he closed his eyes briefly. Then he said, "Won't he hear you?"
"Naw, you worry too much. By now, he's over at his apartment, watching Melrose Place. There!"
The wood finally came off. Bambi helped him to his feet, and started pulling him over to the window. He looked out. For some reason, he had thought they were at least three stories up, in a largely populated area. But here they were, in the middle of nowhere, staring at the few cars at ground level.
Bambi gave a low whistle.
"Hoo, boy! That's some black eye ya' got there. You'd better get something on that. I can't take you any further, though," she added, more seriously. Darcy wondered if maybe she had some brains after all. "Georgie might come back. Maybe he'll take me to the movies."
All hope for her sanity left. Darcy nodded.
"Thanks, ... Bambi." He grimaced. He gestured to the chair in the middle of the room. "Maybe you should make it look like I put up some sort of a fight."
Bambi nodded, delighted.
"Of course. I always do."
Part 5 Posted on Sunday, 28 February 1999
Elizabeth Bennet was walking one day on her father's farm outside of Meryton, Pennsylvania. Jacob Bennet was an elder in the local Amish community, and had the misfortune of being blessed with five daughters. Elizabeth was his favorite. She had a lively mind, and often sparked the conversations at dinner time to subjects more interesting than who was absent from meeting last Sunday - except when they were dining with somebody outside the family. At those times, she kept to herself like a good, modest girl.
Today, she had started on her walk earlier than usual. Her mother had been even more tiresome today than she usually was, and Elizabeth often walked to get rid of her agitation. Her older sister, Jane, was to be married soon to a local boy in the community - Charles Bayard. He was a nice boy, with fine prospects. He and Jane had been wanting to get married for some time, but he could not secure property for a farm. Finally, an opportunity had presented itself, and the young couple could be happy.
Mrs. Bennet wanted Elizabeth to marry a boy from the community, whom she could not stand. It was not exactly that Wilhelm was mean, or rough ... the poor thing could not think. He had never had two thoughts to rub together. If only the good Lord would deem fit to send her another man, so she could refuse Wilhelm's addresses.
Elizabeth, although uncomfortable with some of the doctrine her father preached, was a fierce believer in God. She had been raised in the Mennonite faith, which made her defensive almost to paranoia. Her parents had migrated to this ordnung when she was a little girl, and her father had recently been made an elder.
She was passing under her father's apple trees, which were now in full bloom. Her foot hit a gigantic root (or so it seemed), and she tumbled ungracefully to the ground.
"Imbecile!" she scolded herself.
A groan came from the pile of roots. She suddenly realized that it was not roots at all. It was a man!
"Thank You, God!" she cried.
She noticed he was hurt; also that he was wearing some sort of a uniform. Dirty as it was, it still resembled a uniform. She pulled herself up, and ran for help.
"Papa! Papa!"
Jacob Bennet heard his daughter calling him from the orchard.
"What is it, daughter?"
"There is a man!" she gasped.
"A man? What does he want?"
"He is hurt. He needs our help!"
"Hurt? How? Did he cut a tree down on top of himself? That was very foolish of him..."
"No, papa," said Elizabeth, exasperated. "He is in the orchard. I think he lost his way somehow."
Jacob pursed his lips. This was not good.
"We must help him go back where he belongs, then."
"No, Papa!" cried Elizabeth, then remembered her manners. "I mean, Papa, I think it might be best to ... nurse him back to health first, then send him back." After she finally caught her breath, she added, "What would the Lord do if He were in this situation? Remember the parable of the Good Samaritan."
Jacob smiled.
"You are right again, Elizabeth. Where is he?"
"He is under the smallest tree, on the far side of the orchard. Near the road."
Part 6 Posted on Friday, 9 April 1999
Darcy felt something jolt him out of his deep slumber. He did not like sleeping under a tree, but it was better than out in the sun, considering.
He had pretty much collapsed under the tree, after finding he could not walk any further under the circumstances, and, resigning himself to his fate, had gone to sleep.
He slowly rolled over, gritting his teeth, and came face to face with an old man with a shaggy beard. He was wearing old black clothing, with no buttons anywhere. "How does that work?" he asked himself.
"Yes, he does look bad," the man was saying. "How are you feeling, sir?" he asked.
Before he could answer, a younger, prettier face stepped in front of the bearded dragon from hell, and said,
"Oh, good! You are awake. That will make for easier mending, yes, Papa?"
The frightening apparition was this lovely creature's father? Impossible! But, now that he looked closer, he did notice some resemblance.
"I must have hit my head harder than I thought," he muttered.
Jacob grunted and groaned as he lifted one of Darcy's arms over his shoulders, and hauled him toward the house. Luckily, Caleb was just coming to visit Jan, and he helped him with the hauling, which was considerably more, since Darcy had passed-out again.
"Hannah!" Jacob called, when they neared the house.
A stout, middle-aged woman came out of the house, hands on hips, flour on hands, and said,
"Yes, husband?"
"Hannah, we have a visitor. Can you make a bed for him?"
"Who is this?" Hannah asked, pointing at Darcy.
Jacob paused.
"I do not know. Elizabeth discovered him ..."
"Elizabeth! I should have known," Hannah said, looking contemptuously at Elizabeth, who had kept her eyes downcast throughout the conversation up to this point.
"Mama, it is really very innocent. I was walking ... and I thought I tripped over a root, but ... it was him."
Leah and Kate came out of the house just then, and, after looking Jacob and his `package' up and down, Leah said,
"Papa, what is this? Have you taken to bringing home lost puppies again?"
Elizabeth said,
"Leah, this man is hurt, could you please get some clean sheets for the spare bed?"
Leah looked at Kate and shrugged.
"Sure. But he doesn't look that hurt to me. I've seen a lot worse on tel..." She stopped cold. She did not want her father to know that she had been sneaking television in town.
"Leah!" said Jacob. "Get the sheets. Now!" Then, after Leah left, he said, "I think it is time we got that girl some spectacles."
Leah came back and gave Elizabeth the sheets.
"Here. I don't know how to make a bed."
"What? You are fifteen years old, and you do not know how to make a bed?"
Leah shrugged.
"I've had better things to do than learn how to make a bed."
"Elizabeth," said her mother, "go make the bed."
After the bed was made, Jacob, Hannah, and Elizabeth examined Darcy, who slipped in and out of consciousness. Once, while he was unconscious, he started mumbling things. Elizabeth knew it was rude to listen, but she did.
"Bambi ... Not heroine. Heroin."
"What has this boy been reading?" muttered Hannah. "He keeps saying about a heroine."
"Poor thing is delusional," grumbled Jacob. "Perhaps he escaped from the asylum in town."
"Papa, the town doesn't have an asylum. Perhaps he is married to somebody named Bambi, and they had a fight about groceries," said Elizabeth haltingly, making it up as she went along. She did not like to think the man who God had dropped out of the sky just for her was an insane asylum escapee.
"Fitzwilliam! Look out!" he shouted, then tried to sit up. Jacob held him down.
"Hold it, young man. You need your rest."
Darcy's eyes flew open, and he surveyed the room he was in.
"Where am I?" he asked.
"Why, you are here, of course," said Jacob.
"Well, I gather that," said Darcy, trying not to laugh. It came out only as a whimper. "I mean, what country am I in?"
"Well, technically, you are in America. But we like to think of this as God's land."
"God's land," he repeated. The three of them nodded. "I see."
"I'm in a loony bin," he thought. "Bambi had me committed so I wouldn't rat on `her man'."
"All right," he said aloud. "Are you doctors or patients?"
Elizabeth said, "We are neither doctors, nor patients. Papa is an elder, though."
"An elder? Of what?"
"Of this ordnung."
Darcy nearly choked. He took another look at their clothes.
"I beg pardon?"
Jacob said, "I am an elder of this ordnung. You are on my farm, in Merkwurdig, Pennsylvania."
"Pennsylvania! But I live in New York."
They all looked at each other expressively. Darcy wondered what they thought of New York. Maybe they thought he was crazy. Maybe to them, New York was a distant country where people walked differently, talked differently, and acted differently.
"Look, I have a papers to prove it." He tried to sit up, but Jacob held him down again.
"Steady, imprudent youth. Where are these papers?"
"I'm not sure. They should be in one of my back pockets."
Jacob looked for them, and shook his head.
"There are no papers there."
"Well, then, somebody stole them."
"Why would somebody steal your papers?" Elizabeth asked.
"Elizabeth!" scolded Hannah. "Mind your manners!"
Darcy wondered what was so rude about asking a simple question, and decided to answer it.
"Listen," he said, "I'm a police officer. I was ... held up ... yesterday, and this man took everything I had on me."
"You carry your papers with you?"
Darcy sighed in frustration.
"I'm not talking about documents like my birth certificate or anything. My drivers' license, Blockbuster card, library card, credit ..." he trailed off. Great. Now Wickham had his life in his pocket.
After a while, Jacob spoke up and said, "Well, you must be hungry. Elizabeth, fetch a bowl of soup for the young man. What's your name?"
"William. William Darcy."
"Elizabeth, get some soup for Mr. Darcy."
Part 7 A Posted on Wednesday, 14 April 1999
In the next few days, Darcy rarely, if ever, left his bed. Jacob had insisted that, starting with the eldest and working on down, each of his daughters take turns keeping Will company. There was virtually no danger from Will, and Jacob was sure that none of his daughters would be a danger to Will, either. It was merely an eccentric show of hospitality on Jacob Bennet's part.
Jan was first, and Darcy silently pronounced her a true and natural beauty, although he was not attracted to her. She had pale blond hair, clear skin, and a good figure, from what he could make out from her modest dress. She was very kind, and did everything she could to make Darcy feel comfortable, although she did not seem to really know what to do. However, her aloofness was accounted for when he heard that she was engaged to be married.
He had looked forward to Elizabeth's visit, knowing that she was the one who had discovered him and, in a matter of speaking, saved his life. He knew before her visit, that she, like her sister, was very beautiful, although in an entirely different category.
She had dark hair, and was somewhat tanned from taking long walks in the middle of the day. When she laughed, her eyes sparkled, and he could just barely hear the echoes bounce off the walls. Darcy was aware that it would be ludicrous to become attached to her. He had much more important things to worry about - getting well being one of them - and he tried to stem his admiration, but to no avail. It was just as well, he thought, since their day together got off to a bad start.
First, she came in at seven o'clock in the morning, bringing with her his breakfast of oatmeal and goat's milk. Swinging the door open with her foot, she paused for an instant to make certain he was dressed or at least properly covered, and when satisfied, gave a cheerful "Good morning!" and set the tray down in front of him.
Unfortunately, Darcy was in too much pain to feel hungry, and he looked at the meal with a small groan. She frowned.
"Is it not good enough? I made it myself, and can assure you it is the very best in the house."
"N-no," he said, wincing a little. "It's not that. I am just not very hungry this morning.
"Very well," she said, pursing her lips, and she started to take the tray away. He put a hand on her arm.
"I hope you are not offended, Elizabeth," he said softly.
"If I am offended, sir," replied she, icily, "It is because you are not courting me, and yet you touch my arm and call me by my first name."
"What else should I call you?" he asked, confused. "Everybody else calls you Elizabeth. Why shouldn't I?"
"You are not my father, brother, or any kind of relation. It would be entirely too forward."
She turned on her heel, carrying his wonderful breakfast with her. Suddenly, he was famished.
When she came back, she brought a bag undoubtedly full of things to occupy her until her father could take over her nursing duties. She sat down in a chair near the window, and took out her knitting. She knitted for a good hour, then sighed, and shoved the material back in the bag.
"What are you knitting?" he asked conversationally.
"I am not knitting. It is crochet. There is a difference. It is a quilt for my sister's wedding," she said. "My sister, you know, is engaged to Charles Bayard, and is to be married in a month."
He nodded.
"Yes, I had heard something about that. Do you have any other siblings?"
"Yes. Three more sisters. Jan is the oldest. She is very fortunate to be marrying such a nice boy as Charles."
"Do they love each other?" he asked curiously. He wondered if it was an arranged marriage, or if the girls were allowed to choose for themselves.
"Yes, I think they do," said Elizabeth, trying hard not to smile. She was still a little angry with him, although she could not remember why.
Part 7 B Posted on Wednesday, 14 April 1999
Neither of them said anything for a while. Finally, Elizabeth could contain herself no longer, and she said,
"I beg your pardon, sir, but how did you come to be...."
"Shot?" he supplied. She colored slightly, and nodded. He decided it would be unwise to tell her all the horrors of his past, and said, "Hunting accident."
She did not believe him for a second.
"Were you hunting with your friends?"
"Yes."
"What were you hunting?"
"Deer," he said after a pause.
"There are no deer in these parts," she said dryly. It was his turn to blush.
"We did not know that at the time."
She smiled.
"How did the accident happen?"
"Why do you ask?" he looked straight into her eyes.
She blushed again, but tried to shake it off by shrugging and saying,
"I am merely curious, sir. If you do not wish to talk about it, that is all right."
"I don't want to talk about it."
She nodded, and another silence ensued.
"I am sorry for bringing the subject back, but please tell me, why did your friends leave you in the orchard? And why did we not find a ... hunting weapon ... with you?"
He could not come up with an excuse for that question. He shrugged.
"Maybe they thought I was dead?"
"Perhaps." Elizabeth sat back in her chair, quite agitated by his casual manner in speaking to her. She folded her arms, then remembered it was unladylike to do so, and quickly unfolded them and placed her hands in her lap.
"Do you read?" Darcy tried again.
Elizabeth clenched her teeth. He thought she was stupid, or he would not ask that question.
"Yes, I know how to read," she said sharply, and quickly repented her hasty answer. He realized he had offended her again, but did not know how to make an apology which she would accept.
"That came out the wrong way," he stammered. "What I meant to ask was, do you read often?"
"I read when I have the time, which is not often. We Amish, you know, are very set in our ways, and never have any time for anything amusing."
"I'm sorry, E ... Miss Bennet. I didn't mean anything by it."
"Of course you didn't. Nobody ever does."
"I just ... I mean, I don't have any experience in these matters. Can you forgive my ignorance?"
She felt herself relenting. It was not his fault he knew nothing of their ways.
"Of course." She tried to find something that could amuse the both of them without causing an argument, and finally picked up a book, saying,
"Would you like me to read to you?"
"Sure," said Darcy, relieved. "What will you read?"
"I have the Bible, The Screwtape Letters, Pilgrim's Progress, or Robinson Crusoe." There was a teasing light in her eyes.
He pursed his lips. He certainly did not wish to hear her read the Bible to him. It would feel too much like she was preaching at him. He had read Pilgrim's Progress and Robinson Crusoe when he was in high-school, and had found both of them wordy and boring.
"Screwtape Letters," he finally decided.
She smiled brightly at him, and her eyes began to sparkle again with good humor.
Part 8 Posted on Saturday, 1 May 1999
A red Ferrari spun around Pemberley Blvd. at a break-neck speed, just missing a telephone pole near the street. They were in a nice suburban neighborhood with clean lawns and neat shutters. They stopped in front of a large house near the end of the street, and the driver got out of the car. He came over to the passenger's seat, but instead of helping her out, he leaned over the door, and said,
"Remember, Bambi, you are my sister."
"Right, Georgie." The girl replied, gloomily.
He winked at her, and strolled up to the front door of the huge mansion. He rapped on the door, and after a few moments, it was opened by an old woman wearing a rather old- fashioned cap and apron. George had not anticipated servants. Hesitating for only a second, he fought the sudden urge to bow, and said rather stiffly,
"Is Miss Darcy at home?"
As Mary bored him with reading some dead guys autobiography, Darcy thought regretfully of how quickly he had fallen asleep listening to the soothing tones of Elizabeth's voice. Of course, she had been offended by it, but he had always thought it a great compliment when Georgiana had fallen asleep during bed-time reading.
The day after that was almost just as bad, for he had to deal with both Kate and Leah, as they would not be separated. Kate simply *had* to know all about `life on the outside'. She asked him how often he went to the theater, and how many cars he owned. She asked him what kind of things they showed on television, and she strongly hinted that she was going to run away from home.
Leah would not stop talking about the various boys in the community, and how they did not compare in the slightest degree with himself. She obviously had meant to flirt with him, but had not yet learned how. He knew she would have the art down to a science soon, but for now she could remain an innocent little girl ... at least he hoped so.
"Lord! It is so hot in here!" exclaimed Leah.
"Leah!" cried Kate. "Do not take the Lord's name in vain!"
Leah rolled her eyes.
"Pooh! How do you know I did not mean a lord, like the owner of a big piece of land?" She opened the window, letting the breeze flow through the room. She arranged herself on the sill carefully, so as to attract attention to her physical person. Darcy rolled over gingerly, and went to sleep.
After Leah and Kate noticed their handsome companion was not paying them any attention, Leah stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Kate followed, quietly lamenting over her sad state. They both forgot to close the window.
That night, when Mr. Bennet came to check on Darcy, he found his breathing was a little hoarse, and came in quick gasps. He immediately called for Jan. When she came, he said,
"Jan, who can we get to come here on short notice and see after the boy?"
"Charles knows a great deal about such things, Papa," she said timidly, but proudly.
"Very well. I will go to fetch him. If he gets any worse, you and Elizabeth will know what to do."
"Yes, Papa."
Mr. Bennet left. An hour later, he came back, with Charles at his heels, blinking sleepily. He immediately set to work.
Three days later, Darcy opened his eyes groggily, and, for the second time in a short while, noticed a strange man hovering over him. He blinked and said,
"Who are you? What do you want?"
Charles grinned.
"I am Charles Bayard. I think you will be in fine now."
"I was not aware I wasn't fine."
"Oh, yes. You were in quite some danger for a while there. Somebody left the window open, and you caught pneumonia. You are blessed it was only mild."
"Mild, huh? What day is it?"
"It is Saturday."
"I was asleep for three days?!" Darcy was quite shocked.
"Careful!" admonished Charles gently. "You are still sick. No, you were not asleep for three days. You woke up now and then, but never for very long, and you never said anything we could understand."
"What did I say?"
"I am not sure, really. I was not here."
"But I thought you were ... "
"No, I'm not the doctor. I just know some things. You are very blessed," he said again.
"I guess so."
Part 9 Posted on Monday, 3 May 1999
A week later, the whole Bennet family was surprised to see Mr. Bennet help Mr. Darcy to the dinner table. Mrs. Bennet immediately regretted making the meager sausage and biscuits, instead of the grand affair she had been planning ... but then she remembered the Bayards were coming for dinner tomorrow, and it would be better to wait until then.
Mr. Bennet seated Darcy in a chair between himself and Jan, across from Elizabeth. After the blessing, Darcy wondered why nobody said anything. It was very awkward, just sitting there and chewing, wondering what everybody was going on in your company's - or rather your host's - minds.
In actuality, it was not all that silent at the table, for Leah and Kate talked much of their way through dinner, and most of the time not bothering to swallow before talking. Finally, Mr. Bennet said, "I am sorry for the triviality of my daughter's conversation. I was hoping to spare you by sitting you as far from them as possible, but it seems my other daughters have nothing to say with which to drown them out."
"It's fine, I wasn't really listening, anyway," Darcy tried to lay his host's fears to rest, but it came out as rather an insult. He saw Elizabeth try not to laugh.
"Elizabeth," admonished her mother, "do not laugh at your guest."
"I was not laughing at him, Mama," Elizabeth protested. "I was merely amused by the circumstances."
"Apologize for your rudeness," Mrs. Bennet interrupted.
"I am sorry, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth hurriedly. This time it was William who tried not to laugh.
"That's all right. I wasn't offended at all."
More relative silence ensued while Leah and Kate giggled to each other shamelessly. Once, Leah glanced at Darcy, and whispered something to Kate, which caused her to giggle even more loudly. Darcy raised an eyebrow at Elizabeth, who shook her head and shrugged her shoulders helplessly.
"Mr. Darcy," said Kate, trying to stifle the giggles, "Leah would like to know if you are married."
She burst out laughing, and collapsed on top of Leah, who was out of breath from laughing. Elizabeth blushed, while Mary rolled her eyes. Mr. Bennet, obviously disturbed by his daughter's behaviour, said,
"Leah, Kate, hold your tongues." Then he turned to Darcy and said,
"I apologize again, Mr. Darcy, for my daughters. They are not yet learned to mind their manners."
"That's all right, Mr. Bennet. I really don't mind. No, I am not married." He directed this last sentence to Leah, who suddenly became quite calm.
"How do you like your dinner, Mr. Darcy?" asked Mrs. Bennet, simpering slightly.
"Uh, it's very good, thank you."
"Would you like more bread, Mr. Darcy?" asked Jan ever hospitable.
"No, thank you. And you don't have to call me Mr. Darcy. It makes me feel old. Just William, or Darcy, is fine."
Elizabeth raised her eyebrow at him. He smiled at her. She looked down at her plate. After a while, she asked,
"Do you let everybody call you by your Christian name, or only us?"
"Elizabeth ... " Mrs. Bennet warned.
"My friends usually call me William, so I'm most comfortable with that name, although the people I work with call me Darcy, usually."
"What do you do, again, Mr. ... William?"
"I'm a police officer."
"Really? Oh, yes, you said that before. Do you enjoy it?"
"Most of the time, yes. I like the idea of doing something for the community, Sometimes it gets pretty gruesome, though."
"Did you ever see a murder?" asked Leah, her eyes shining. Darcy stiffened. Memories rushed back at him, and closed his eyes. He opened them again, and said,
"Not firsthand, but I am in the middle of an investigation right now."
"Really? How exciting! Do you know who did it?"
"Not yet. I am hoping to find out soon enough, though."
"Who was killed?"
"Leah," warned her father, seeing Darcy's distress, "Talk about something else."
"I just asked a simple question," Leah pouted.
"It is a good thing to be inquisitive," said her mother, patting her hand, "But I do not think Mr. ... William ... likes to talk about it."
"So, Darcy," said Mr. Bennet, "I hear you and my Lizzy had quite a visit the other day."
"Papa," said Elizabeth.
"Uh, yes," said Darcy. "I suppose we did, although I'm sure I had quite a good time."
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes slightly, Darcy grinned at her.
Part 10 Posted on Tuesday, 4 May 1999
"Mrs. Reynolds, is there any word of William?" asked Georgiana one morning, as was now the custom.
"No, I'm sorry."
"Have you checked the hospitals?"
"Yes. They have not seen him."
"Did you call the station, ask them if he was on any secret mission or anything?"
"Yes. It was just the one bust two weeks ago. They expected him to report back ... " Mrs. Reynolds made a face. "They said to check the Las Vegas hotels, and trace his credit cards."
Georgiana wrung her hands.
"Shouldn't they be worried about him? He's never been gone this long before."
"I don't know, Georgiana. I have absolutely no idea what could have happened."
"Don't you?" Georgiana was very worried.
"No," said Mrs. Reynolds firmly. "If he were dead, they would have found him by now."
Georgiana sighed and went upstairs to her room. She fell on her bed and cried.
After an hour, there was a knock on the door, and Mrs. Reynolds bustled up to Georgiana's room to tell her she had company.
"Who is it?"
"It is George."
"Is Bambi with him?"
"Yes. They are waiting in the living room."
"Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds."
Meanwhile, in the living room, "Georgie, put that down!" Bambi scolded. "It's probably not worth anything."
"Are you kidding?" asked Wickham, showing her the baseball. "Look!"
"Babe Ruth," read Bambi. "So?"
Wickham huffed.
"Never mind."
"Who would have thought he was so rich?" muttered Bambi.
"Who?"
"That cop guy, Darcy."
Wickham shrugged.
"He's always had plenty of cash."
"Really? You know, Georgie, it's awfully cruel what you're doing to me. I have to watch you woo a little girl and pretend to be your sister!"
"So? What?"
Bambi sighed.
"Let's go to Vegas, baby. You and me. We'll catch the shows, maybe get married ... "
"Married? What are you talking about?"
Bambi pouted.
"You don't love me anymore."
"Bambi, I didn't say that. I don't want to go to Vegas. And I don't want to get married."
"You just don't want to marry me. Well, maybe I won't give you anymore money, either. Maybe I'll go back to my parent's house."
Bambi was on the verge of shouting, when Georgiana ran down the stairs.
"Hello, George," she said gloomily.
"Hi, George," he said cheerfully, then, "What's the matter? You've been crying."
"Oh, it's nothing ... Actually, it is something. My brother's still missing. We have no idea where he is."
Bambi visibly started. She got up quickly, and said, "Georgie, I need to use the bathroom. Where is it?"
Georgiana pointed the way to the bathroom, and Bambi left in quite a hurry.
"I wouldn't worry about your brother too much," said Wickham, seating himself and Georgiana on the sofa. "You wanna go to the movies tonight?"
Georgiana shook her head.
"I think I should stay here, in case somebody calls about William."
Wickham gritted his teeth. He needed to know where Darcy was, too, but for different reasons. Bambi came back from the bathroom, and Wickham rose to go.
"Well, if you hear anything, let me know."
"I'm surprised you care."
"Why?" Wickham was startled.
Georgiana shrugged.
"I was just wondering why you were taking such an interest in his disappearance."
"Oh, well ... because, I ... well, you see, he and I used to go to school together."
"Really?"
"Oh, yes. I was just thinking about him the other day, wondering what he was up to. I was very distressed to hear he was missing."
"Well, I'll keep you updated."
Georgiana saw them to the door, and watched him and Bambi climb into their yellow Ferrari and drive off. Strange how a brother and sister could be so different.
Part 11a Posted on Monday, 10 May 1999
Jan came into the room she and Elizabeth shared, and found her sister sitting on her bed, ostensibly reading a book. She cleared her throat.
"Ahem. Elizabeth, we need to go to bed."
Elizabeth sighed. She was enjoying her book, or what she could read when she could force her concentration.
"Yes, I know." She slid the book into a drawer, and laid back in her covers. "You may turn the light off now."
Jan did so, and climbed into her bed. After a few minutes of silence, Elizabeth asked,
"Jan? Are you awake?"
"Yes."
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"What do you think of Mr. Darcy?"
"I am not yet certain what to think, Elizabeth. I hardly know him well enough to judge."
"But, Jan," said Elizabeth, propping herself on one elbow, "we have been sharing the house with him for three weeks now. Surely you have some opinion of him."
"I am almost never in his company."
Elizabeth sighed, and laid back down. Jan asked,
"Why? What do you think of him? Do you think he is handsome? Are you in love with him?"
"Nonsense."
"You don't think he's handsome?"
"I didn't say that. I said I wasn't in love with him. I don't think Papa would take kindly to me - any of us - marrying outside the faith."
"I suppose not."
"He is handsome, though."
"Yes, indeed... Although Charles is, in his own way, much more to my tastes..."
"Really, Jan, you don't have to defend your opinions to me."
"I know." Jan yawned. "Good night." She rolled over and promptly went to sleep. There was nothing for Elizabeth to do but follow Jan's lead.
Part 11 B Posted on Monday, 10 May 1999
The next morning, Elizabeth was cleaning the kitchen after breakfast, humming a tune as she worked. She had a sweet voice, and as it drifted through the house, Darcy found himself mesmerized by it, and he slowly made his way to the living room, where he sat down on the couch, and started to doze off.
Elizabeth finished her work in the kitchen, and headed into the living room to get her needlework, and stumbled on Darcy, half-asleep on a chair. She cleared her throat. Darcy opened his eyes, and said,
"Yes?"
"You're on my blanket."
"Oh, I'm sorry," said Darcy, standing up.
"It's all right. I wanted to talk to you, anyway."
He raised his eyebrows.
"You did?"
She nodded, then noticed he was standing up without any support.
"Are you all right?"
"Huh? Oh, well, you tell me. How am I doing?"
"I would not know, I was never really told how badly you were hurt in the first place." She folded her blanket over the back of a rocking chair and motioned for him to sit down. After he had done so, she sat primly on the edge of the couch.
"So, what did you have to say to me?" he asked, after an awkward pause.
"Well, Mr. Darcy..."
"Will."
"Well, Will," she blushed prettily, "I don't like to call anybody a liar, but I do not think you really expected me to believe that story you told me about hunting with your friends, especially since we found you alone, without a gun, or even powder stains on your hands."
He fidgeted a little. She was sharp.
"Who said I fired my gun?"
"Nobody. Please tell me the truth."
I though Amish girls were supposed to be shy and demure... "Why must you know?"
"So you did lie?" Why am I behaving like this?
"Yes, but I did not think it wise to tell you the truth."
"Isn't that usually the reason? Why was it not wise? Are you really a police officer?"
"Yes." He had thought that much was obvious.
"And you are in the middle of an investigation?"
"Yes."
"But you were not hunting with your friends?"
"Not with my friends, or anybody else."
"What were you doing?"
He smiled a little.
"I was taking a nap."
"In my father's orchard? Why didn't you go to the hospital?"
He shrugged apathetically.
"I couldn't find one."
She sat back in the chair, exasperated. She was not good at dancing around subjects.
"If there was no hunting accident, then what really happened?"
Darcy looked at her intently, and decided to be blunt.
"A botched drug bust."
"Here?" She seemed alarmed.
"No, in New York," he said, getting a little testy.
"Then how did you get here?"
"I don't know. I was knocked unconscious, trying to rescue my partner. I woke up a few miles from here."
Elizabeth calculated quickly.
"The old mill down Warner Road."
"I don't know; under the circumstances, I wasn't paying close attention to the name of the building."
"It has to be that mill... It's the only place where something like that could happen. Everywhere else is too public."
"Okay, then it was the mill on Warner Road. What difference does that make?"
"None, I suppose." she sighed, and got up to tidy the living room. After a few minutes of watching her, Darcy said,
"Do you have a boyfriend?"
Startled, she looked up.
"What?" she squeaked.
"Are you ... spoken for? Engaged? Being courted?"
She made a face.
"Are you asking permission to court me, sir?"
His face dropped.
"No." He leaned back in his chair. "I was just wondering."
"Well, there is this boy my mother wants me to accept..."
"But?"
"It is not right to talk about people behind their backs."
"I was blunt with you; now you be blunt with me."
"I don't like him very much," she said hesitatingly. "He is rather stupid. But I should not be talking like this. It is none of your business."
"No, it isn't," he agreed softly.
Part 12 Posted on Thursday, 20 May 1999
Later that day, Elizabeth, Jan, and Leah went to town to buy a few things they would be needing for the dinner that night, accompanied by Charles and Cora Bayard, Wilhelm Collins, and a few others from the community. Cora and Leah publicly respected each other, and begrudgingly admitted the other had good taste, but privately they hated each other with a passion and considered the other as a rival for each and every thing, be it animal, vegetable, or mineral. On the drive over, they immediately hooked arms, and began chatting the other up, both trying to find out some little fault with the other to use against her.
Leah especially was frightened that Cora would win the admiration of the handsome young policeman that was currently sleeping at the Bennet home. She herself longed to quit the atmosphere into which she was born. She herself yearned for the big houses, fancy cars, beautiful dresses. To go to the theater, and be the center of attention. She fully intended to make William Darcy madly in love with her. He could take her out of Pennsylvania, and back to New York with him.
She new Cora had the same longings as she, and also had a feeling she would also go wild over 'her William', as she now silently referred to him. She was determined to have the upper hand.
Elizabeth watched as Leah and Cora headed over to look at the cosmetics. She sincerely hoped her sister had not somehow saved any money. Ever since Leah's first trip to town, when she had been eight years old, she had drawn herself more and more into the secular way of life. She even talked like a city girl sometimes. Elizabeth was frightened that someday Leah would do something so outrageous, the whole family would be disgraced. If she hadn't done it already, she would certainly find a way to do it one of these days.
As Elizabeth and Jan looked over the apples, she could not help overhearing the conversation the clerk was having with another customer.
"Did you hear the latest happenings with the Darcys?" the lady asked in a high, affected voice.
"The who?"
"Why, the Darcys, of New York. Georgiana Darcy has been seen driving around in a car with a very handsome young man. I do not know who he is, but I'm sure he is very rich, because it was a very expensive car."
"The Darcys, Darcy, Darcy," the clerk muttered, then, seeming to remember, said, "Oh, yeah! The famous George Darcy. Was responsible for the five huge drug busts in two years, wasn't he?"
"Oh, yes," said the woman, with a dismissive wave of her hand. "But he's been dead for at least five years now. Georgiana is his daughter. They are very rich, and George was expected to run for governor of New York City, but he was shot down in cold blood." The woman was warming to her subject even more now. "Poor William. Although I never really cared for the boy, I did feel sorry for him after his father died. He is a police officer now, I think. My sister, Carol, wants him to run for governor himself. She says her daughter would vote for him, just because he's handsome. But I say handsome is as handsome does, that's what."
Elizabeth held her breath, her stomach doing flip-flops. What a coincidence!
"What do you mean, don't you think he's a nice boy?" asked the clerk mischievously, hoping to get a rise out of the woman.
"Sure," sniffed the woman, "if you like the kind that mopes around for no reason at all. Also, I heard he is unnecessarily violent with his suspects."
"Really?" the clerk raised an eyebrow. "I never heard that."
"Well, I have a friend, who has a friend, whose son was arrested for something-or-other, and he told his mother (who told her friend, who told me) that he didn't appreciate the business one bit."
"And you said he was running for governor?"
"Oh, I don't know," said the woman with a shrug of her shoulders. "Nobody's heard anything about him in three weeks. Some people say he's dead, but there's nothing on the news about a body."
"Elizabeth, are you all right?" Jan asked, shaking her sister's arm gently.
Elizabeth started, and looked around her.
"What?"
"You look pale. Should I take you home? I'm sure Leah could drive home with Charles and Cora."
"No, that's all right. I'm fine. Where is Leah?"
Jan looked around, and spotted her sister,
"There she is," she pointed. Leah noticed her sister pointing at her, and came over to them. The woman and the clerk were still going at it at the counter.
"And dear Georgiana got her hair cut. I do believe William changed her school last year, so she has new friends. Her boyfriend brings his sister with him a lot, when he goes to see Georgiana. I saw pictures in the newspaper. It's a pity a brother and sister could be so different."
"You mean William and Georgiana?"
"Them, too, but I was talking about Georgiana's boyfriend and his sister."
The clerk nodded, and proceeded to help Elizabeth and Jan, whose basket was over-flowing. The woman, however, would not leave once she had an audience, and kept twattling on. Leah watched her wide-eyed, apparently amazed anybody could talk so fast and so much about somebody she didn't even know.
"Who names their daughter Georgiana nowadays?" Leah whispered to Cora, who snickered into her shoulder.
"And yesterday would have been George and Anne's thirtieth wedding anniversary, if they had lived. But they are both, alas, in the Darcy plot. Anne was my favorite Darcy. Georgiana is so much like her, I have quite a fondness for her, too."
"How did Anne die?"
"Drive-by shooting, I think. Unless it was cancer. But then, she might have fallen down the stairs and broken her neck. Oh, shoot, I don't remember. Now this is going to bug me all day. Well, good day, Mr. Clark. I'll give you a call when I remember."
The woman finally left, Leah staring after her in shock.
"Leah, stop staring," Jan admonished. She did not listen to gossip, and had distracted herself from listening to the conversation.
"She was talking about the Darcys," Leah murmured under her breath.
"Yes, dear," said Cora. "That was Mrs. Long. She is always talking about the Darcys. You would think they were her long-lost cousins, or something."
The small party left town the same way they came, except Elizabeth was now more confused than ever, and Leah was even more determined to marry William Darcy.
Part 13 Posted on Wednesday, 3 November 1999
The Bayards arrived soon after Elizabeth and Jan were home, so Elizabeth did not have a chance to observe Will in the new light the lady at the store had given her. Was he potentially violent? She did not think so, but it was a possibility, given his profession.
Charles and Cora came into the house at around six that night. Charles went immediately for Jan, but Cora's eyes rested on Will, who was lounging in a chair, reading a book. She pulled Leah closer to herself.
"Who is that?" she asked on a gasp. Leah smirked.
"That is William Darcy. He's been staying with us for a few days. He was hurt in a shooting accident, and we're taking care of him until he gets better."
"William Darcy?" Cora's eyes bulged. "As in Mrs. Long's Darcys? That William Darcy? The one with the big house in New York, and the fancy car?" She bit her tongue quickly, realizing she was getting carried away. Leah's smirk did not leave her face.
"Yes, that Darcy. He's a policeman. And he is not married," she added significantly.
Cora managed a demure smile, and lowered her eyelashes when Will glanced at her. His brow furrowed in puzzlement at the Amish girl's flirtation, and he focused once again on his book. These people would never cease to amaze him.
Elizabeth, guessing what her sister and guest were about, came up behind them and instructed Leah to help set the table. Cora tiptoed over to Will, trying to seem as if she were not pursuing him. He looked up at her, and immediately tried to stand. However, he was not having a very good day, and it took him nearly a whole minute to come to a standing position. It took Cora the whole of that minute to remember that Leah had said he had been injured. She wondered where.
"You are Charles' sister?" he asked pleasantly. She blushed and smiled.
"Yes, I am Cora Bayard. And you are William Darcy."
He was puzzled again, but he managed a pleasant affirmative.
"I have heard much about you," she said excitedly. "Are you going to run for governor?"
"No," he laughed. "I believe I am still rather young for that position." Not to mention such a job would make it harder for him to find his father's killer. Cora wondered why his eyes dimmed so suddenly, and quickly searched for another topic.
"I heard your sister has a new boyfriend," she said. This startled him. Georgiana was only seventeen, and very shy. She had never had a serious boyfriend.
"I had not heard that," he said. She decided it was time to show of her knowledge of the secular world.
"Haven't you heard anything on television? That is where Mrs. Long gets her information."
"No, I haven't been out of this house in some time, as you can probably tell."
"Couldn't you call her on your cell phone?"
"I, uh, don't have it with me," he stammered. This girl was somewhat unnerving. Like Elizabeth, she was different than what he had expected from an Amish girl, but in a different way. Cora frightened him a little. Sensing Cora was marking her territory, Leah bustled over quickly.
"It is time to eat," she said. "Mr. Da... William, you sit next to Father..." She flashed a triumphant grin at Cora. She did not think there had been time for Darcy to tell her to call him by his first name. The privilege would make her friend and rival extremely jealous.
Will gulped when he found himself seated between Mr. Bennet and Leah. Cora was across from him, and next to Charles. Jan was on her fiancé's other side, and Elizabeth was between her and Mary. Kate was next to Leah, and Mrs. Bennet was at the other end of the table.
Elizabeth stared at her plate, unable to look at him. She knew Cora and Leah would make spectacles of themselves over him, but she could not lift her eyes to help. She could not bear to think of him shouting at people, possibly hitting and injuring them. It was not just her religion speaking - she hated violence. She did not recoil from many things out of fear--she had been the one who had taken the snake out of the garden. But any hint of violence made her tremble.
Will tried to catch her eyes, but she seemed to be focusing on her plate the entire night. Meanwhile, he had to juggle two fascinated adolescents.
"Mr. Darcy," said Cora, "Charles and I would like it if, when you are well enough, you would come to see us at our farm."
Charles and Mr. Bennet stared at her. What was she doing?
"I would like that," said Will hesitantly, but was put off by Mr. Bennet's glare. "But I think I will be going home as soon as possible."
"There is nothing to see at the Bayard farm, anyway," said Leah. Jan looked hurt, but Charles squeezed her hand under the table. Mrs. Bennet shrugged. Mr. Bennet raised an eyebrow in an icy glare at his youngest daughter. Cora raised herself to her full sitting height. Leah went on.
"Surely nothing you haven't seen already, William. Just cows and horses, and an occasional buggy."
"Like here," said Cora with an arched eyebrow.
"Yes, only the people here look better, too, which makes the farm look better."
"Leah!" said Mr. Bennet. Cora smiled thinly.
"At least my looks do not come from cosmetics!"
"Any cosmetics used by you, dear Cora, would soon go out of business.!"
"I'm sure Mr. Darcy does not want to hear about the cosmetic industry, Leah," said Cora, coming to herself quickly. She sat back, and resumed her demure countenance of a few minutes previously. "You are right. Your life is infinitely more interesting than mine. Tell us, what were you and Adam Zurgot doing at the last harvest festival?"
Leah blushed noticeably. Mr. Bennet quickly silenced them. Elizabeth sat in open-mouthed astonishment at her sister's behaviour. Why was she acting like this? She looked at her father, who had a grim expression on his face as he stared at Will. Was her sister behaving like a cat because of Will? Now that she thought of it, Leah did have a tendency to fight with Cora over any male that happened to be in the temporary limelight of an adolescent heart.
Will was decidedly uncomfortable with what had transpired at the dinner table, and as soon as he was finished eating, he excused himself and went to bed.
Part 14 Posted on Saturday, 4 December 1999
Jacob Bennet stopped the horse for a minute to wipe his brow. His worrisome thoughts, combined with the hard work, were making his days longer. He sincerely hoped that young man would leave soon, before something dire happened. He had been extremely embarrassed by Leah's behaviour the night before, but had not known how to stop her.
He saw one of his daughters approaching, and quickly picked the plow up off the ground again, pretending he had not seen her.
"Father!" said Mary. "Leah is not doing anything! Why must we do all the work, while she is allowed to..."
"Mary," said Mr. Bennet, keeping his gaze focused on the crops, "there is nothing Leah could do that would be of help. You should be happy she keeps out of your way, since you are far more able..."
"But it is the principle of the matter!" said Mary, taking long strides to keep up with her father. "She does nothing but sit around all day, giggling at that ... that ... policeman!" She spat out the word distastefully. Mr. Bennet had been afraid of this. Leah was forgetting herself again. He closed his eyes in frustration. When would that girl come to her senses?
Will found Elizabeth on the porch, sitting on a swing and shelling peas.
"May I sit here?" he asked, motioning to the unoccupied part of the swing.
"Certainly," she replied, gathering her things to move.
"No, that's all right," he said hastily. He wanted to talk to her, not force her off the porch with his presence. "I'll sit here, instead."
"Very well." She went on shelling the peas, not paying any attention to him whatsoever. He lowered himself onto an overturned bucket, and leaned his crutches against the wall behind him.
"I, uh, just had an ... interesting talk with Leah..."
"Yes?" she asked, pursing her lips. She did not think her youngest, very pretty, sister should be spending so much time with this man.
"Yes. She mentioned that there is a woman in town who is always talking about my family."
"Mrs. Long," she said, wrinkling her nose.
"Yes. I was wondering, what kinds of things does she say?"
Would this Mrs. Long know anything about his father that he did not?
"Oh, whatever she hears. She likes talking about your mother and your sister. You, too, once in a while, although you are not her favorite Darcy." She concentrated harder on the peas, trying to hide her smile.
He was disappointed. He knew it would probably be nothing but some gossip, but he had allowed himself to hope, just like so many other times in the years since his father's murder. But he kept up the conversation. Maybe Mrs. Long had heard something about Georgiana; he missed her terribly.
"Really? What does she say?"
"Oh, I don't know. I usually don't listen to her."
"Leah mentioned you saw her in the market when you went yesterday. Then you were very cool to me last night. Did she say anything about me that you did not like?"
Elizabeth dropped her hands into the bowl, exasperation clearly written on her features.
"She might have mentioned an acquaintance of hers that had been arrested, and had given a bad report of you."
His face was expressionless.
"And that your sister has a new boyfriend with an expensive car.
"My sister has never had a boyfriend in her life. Why would she start now, now that I am gone?" he exclaimed. Then a thought occurred to him. "That car wouldn't happen to have been a Ferrari, would it?"
"I don't know," said she. "Mrs. Long did not mention the type of car, and I do not know the difference."
"Wickham always drives a Ferrari," he muttered. "But what use could Wickham have with a seventeen-year-old girl?" The answer to that question was all too clear to him. He looked at Elizabeth, who was staring at him in puzzlement. He realized he had been talking to himself, and blushed.
"Who is Wickham?" she asked.
"I cannot say, only hope you never meet him."
"There is a Mr. Wickham who lives three farms away," she said, pointing in the direction. Will felt his face go pale.
"There is?"
She nodded.
"Do you know his first name?"
"I think it's Oscar, but I am not certain. He is not one of the community, though. I've seen many women go into that place, when we pass it to go to meeting..."
"When do you go to meeting next?"
"T-tomorrow," she stammered, confused by the intensity in his eyes. Suddenly, she was frightened. He realized this, and smiled sheepishly at her.
"I'm sorry," he said. "It just came as a surprise to me, to find out you know a Wickham."
"Why does that name startle you so much?"
"George Wickham is a very dangerous person. Have you heard of heroin?"
"The drug?"
"Yes. He sells it. To children."
"How awful!" Her eyes widened suddenly. "Was he the one you..." She motioned to his bandages, then blushed. He nodded solemnly.
"The very one."
She nodded, and looked thoughtful for a moment, before saying,
"Perhaps, if you are worried about your sister, you could write to her...?"
"I don't know if it's safe."
"There is a telephone in town you could use," she suggested. "But I do not see how it could be dangerous to simply write a letter. You could leave the return address off the envelope. I can lend you some paper from my room."
He smiled at her.
"You are very thoughtful, Miss Bennet."
She blushed and lowered her eyes again.
"You seemed to be very worried about her, Mr. Darcy. It was the least I could do."
"Thank you," he said softly, wishing he could kiss her without invoking both her father's wrath and her own.
"You're welcome," she replied, equally softly, wishing he would kiss her. She blushed at the thought, and returned to shelling the peas. When she looked up again, he was gone.
Part 15 Posted on Wednesday, 8 December 1999
Dear Georgie,I'm sorry to have taken so long to write, but I wasn't sure it would be safe to do so. I'm still not completely certain, but my desire for you to be assured of my well-being overcame my paranoia.
Rest assured, I am well. That is, I am not dead or dying. But I have suffered slight injuries that could take some time to heal completely. In the meantime, I am staying with a lovely family named Bennet, who is fulfilling all my needs.
I have heard you have a new boyfriend. Please, do not show him this letter.
I omitted the return address on the envelope, because I did not wish to be found by anybody other than yourself. However, if you have a wish to, or need to talk to me, I'm in a small town in Pennsylvania known as Meryton. There are several Bennets here, but the one I'm staying with is the only Jacob. He has five daughters, can you imagine that? Not since Fiddler on the Roof have I seen such a family.
Jan is the oldest, and very beautiful. She is engaged to a boy who lives not far from here, and I think I shall be here for the wedding.
Elizabeth is the second, and she is also beautiful. She has an intriguing air about her, and I wish I could stay longer than it would take to recover, but that is not possible, as Mr. Bennet has been obviously discomfited by my presence the last few days.
Mary is the middle daughter, and one more unlike Chava in the aforementioned Fiddler on the Roof you will not find. She is small and plain, and very devout. When she nursed me, she read to me about a devout preacher. I believe I slept through most of that day.
Kate is the fourth daughter, and there is not much to be said for her. She seems to be dissatisfied with her life, though I could not say why. It seems very fulfilling, the way these people live.
Leah is the youngest, and it is because of her that Mr. Bennet would wish my immediate departure. She seems to be throwing herself at me for some reason or another. It is getting quite uncomfortable, and most of my days are spent avoiding her, for she does nothing but embarrass all who are present. I hope to be home soon, so I can be assured of your safety, but I could wait no longer to assure you of mine.
Your brother,
William
Will sealed the envelope, and stuck it in his pocket. Then he grabbed his cane and prepared to follow Jan and Elizabeth out the door and to the buggy.
The entire household was arrayed in their second best, which did not look all that different to Will than their every-day attire. The plan was to drop Will off in town on their way to a get-together at a neighboring farm, and pick him up again on their way back.
When Will dismounted from the buggy, he purposely left his cane behind, not wanting to appear conspicuous. He believed he could do well enough without it, as long as he did not try to sit, then stand.
He went into the post office and mailed his letter, then headed to the general store where he ordered a Coke and waited for the Bennets to pick him up. He sat on a bar stool, where he could sit without actually bending at the waist. While he waited, an elderly woman came into the store and began a conversation with the clerk.
"I've been rackin' my brain," she said, "and I remembered how Anne died."
"Did you, now?" asked the clerk unenthusiastically. Will smiled into his cup at the clerk's inability to countenance this woman today. She did not notice, however, but went on.
"Yes. She was killed in her own home by a burglar."
Will paused thoughtfully. That was how his mother had died. And she had been named Anne, too. Was this woman the Mrs. Long Elizabeth had mentioned? He wondered what kind of gossip this lady would repeat today.
"And George died only three years later," said the woman mournfully. Will's breathing became heavier as he fought to keep his emotions under check. How could this woman be so candid about it?
"What a tragedy," said the clerk expressionlessly.
"Yes. Such a lovely couple, to meet such tragic and violent deaths."
Will could not stand it anymore, and he began to take his leave. The woman kept talking to the clerk as Will paid for his drink.
"And William is still missing. Georgiana has, in essence, told the press to leave her alone during this crisis."
"Excuse me," said Will, entirely fed up with hearing himself and his family discussed in his presence by a complete stranger, "But why do you seem to be so preoccupied with this family? Are you a relative?"
"No, but..."
"Then what business is it of yours how George and Anne Darcy died? What gives you the right to talk about them like that constantly?"
"I was close friends with George Darcy," said Mrs. Long, straightening herself to her full height. Will was flabbergasted.
"What? How? When? Why did I never hear of this?"
"I don't see why you should. George was investigating a murder in this town, just before he was killed."
"He was?" Will blinked, astonished. There had been no records of his father ever being in Meryton. The woman nodded stiffly.
"A boy was killed while trying to sell dope to a little girl. George was trying to get the girl to testify against the killer. The girl was my niece."
"So... was he still working on this case when he died?"
"Yes," she nodded. "Without him, the case fell apart, and the killer went free. A tragedy all around. For the Darcys, the public ... and my niece. She has not been the same since."
"Were you the only one who was acquainted with him while he was here?"
"No. Old Jacob Bennet had some dealings with him, I think. And so did John Vechey."
"J-Jacob Bennet?" he asked.
"I think I saw them speak to each other once or twice. And I had heard that George spent quite a lot of time at that house. Miss Jan was only fourteen then. Those girls loved George."
Will was stunned. He stared at Mrs. Long, speechless.
"Are you okay?" she asked, after a while. "You look a little pale."
"I'm fine," he said firmly.
The Bennets had known his father. Was this a coincidence, or was he finally making headway in the case, now that he had been taken off it? He walked heavily out of the store, not seeing anything other than what was directly in front of him. When the Bennets came to get him, he had already walked halfway back to the house.
Part 16
Elizabeth paced the hall frantically. Where was he? Had he left for good? Wasn't he coming back? Had he been killed? Where was he? Jacob sat calmly in a chair, watching Elizabeth go back and forth. This had gone too far. He had been glad to have George Darcy's boy at first, but he was playing havoc with his daughters' affections. First Leah, and now Elizabeth. Admittedly, the boy was handsome. He could not blame his daughters for feeling the way they did - well, maybe Leah could use some correction and guidance in that area. It would not do.
The door opened, and Will entered. Elizabeth almost ran to him, but remembered her father's presence just in time. Will glared at Jacob darkly, and went to his room without a word. Elizabeth looked at her father, puzzled.
"What is going on?" she asked. Jacob sighed and rose to his feet.
"It has been eight years since his father died. I don't think he realized before today that his father had been here before he had."
"What? His father?"
Jacob looked at her sadly. Elizabeth did not have much memory of her childhood, and he preferred it that way. The memories he had more often brought him pain than pleasure.
Elizabeth had been a wild child, and although Jacob and Hannah knew she should learn the work more suited to her, they had allowed her to have her fun in the fields when she was small. When she was eleven, though, something had happened that had caused her to change. Instead of preferring field work, as she had been used to do, she would rather now stay indoors, away from potential danger. Jacob could only thank Heaven that she did not remember any of the particulars.
However, it agitated Elizabeth to no end to suddenly be gripped in a panic attack that could not be explained. It had been happening less often, ever since Will had arrived.
Leah rushed out of the room suddenly.
"Is he back? I thought I heard the door open."
"Yes." Jacob nodded. Leah rushed to Will's door, and knocked excitedly. She was gruffly told to go away.
"But, William, it's me, Leah," she said plaintively. Jacob came up behind her, and led her away.
"You must end this foolish behaviour," he scolded his youngest daughter. "William Darcy has as much use for you as a cow has for wheels. You are making a fool out of yourself, and embarrassing everybody in the process, including him."
"What do you know?" she shouted. "You've never done anything but hold me back! I love him, and he is going to take me out of this rotten place, to New York, where I will be rich, and never have to go to church again!"
Jacob stared at Leah. Leah applied to Elizabeth for help in her cause.
"Tell him, Lizzy," she said. "Tell him he cannot stop two people who are in love."
"You are not in love," said Elizabeth softly. "You are in lust, and the two are completely different. You cannot say you love somebody when your reason for loving him is what he can do for you. If you loved somebody, you would consider their happiness."
"How would you know?" Leah sneered. "You are not in love."
Elizabeth dropped her gaze to the floor, and was silent. Will entered the room then, having heard the entire loud conversation. His face had changed colors during the exchange from black to white to red. He looked at Leah, then Elizabeth, then Jacob, then Elizabeth, then Leah.
"Tell them, William," said Leah, lips quivering. "Tell them you love me and you're going to take me away."
"Leah, I..." Will started, "Well, you see...." Jacob helpfully led Elizabeth out of the room, so they could do this in private. Will led Leah to a chair, and said softly but firmly, "Leah, you and I are completely wrong for each other. You see my money and everything, but you haven't considered our different personalities. First of all, there's the age difference..."
"I don't care about that," she declared. "I am sixteen. I know what I want."
"But I am twenty-eight. That is twelve years. Have you considered that?"
"Yes, I have." She blinked. She had not known he was that old.
"Leah, even if I wanted to, I couldn't take you with me without your parents' consent. You 're a very pretty girl, and I'm sure you will have no trouble finding someone, when you're old enough. Do you understand me?"
She frowned, bit her lip, and nodded.
"Good," he said, relieved that he had gotten out of that with relatively few tears. "Why don't you go tell your father? I'm sure he'll be relieved."