Section I, Next Section

Part One

Posted on Friday, 27 December 2002, at 9:10 a.m.

'This part of the intelligence, though unheard by Lydia, was caught by Elizabeth, and as it assured her that Darcy was not less answerable for Wickham's absence than if her first surmise had been just, every feeling of displeasure against the former was so sharpened by immediate disappointment, that she could hardly reply with tolerable civility to the polite inquiries which he directly afterwards approached to make. - Attention, forbearance, patience with Darcy, was injury to Wickham. She was resolved against any sort of conversation with him.....'

"Good evening, Miss Bennet."

The smoothly uttered phrase in a tone pleasurable to the ear brought more than feelings of misgiving in the lady to whom it was addressed. Slowly, Elizabeth turned to face the gentleman and her tone was more icy than warm when she replied:

"Mr. Darcy."

"I trust you are well and come prepared to enjoy the evening, Miss Bennet?" His eyes betrayed nothing, as intently as they were focussed upon her own.

"Certainly, for what could possibly spoil an evening such as this?" she replied, a touch of acidity in her voice.

Darcy appeared not to notice it, however, for his next enquiry was after Jane. "Your sister suffered no ill effects from her late illness, I hope. She appeared to be in excellent health when she entered the room a few moments ago with Bingley."

Irritation warred with her pleasure in the knowledge that Jane, at least, would have cause to rejoice in what this evening might bring. "Yes, Mr. Bingley's very kind solicitude during her illness was, I'm sure, a mitigating factor in her complete recovery. There is nothing more effective than pleasing, well-bred manners." Elizabeth dared not deceive herself into believing that her barb had penetrated his own ill-bred manners, yet something seemed to flicker across his face and she allowed a small measure of satisfaction that she had at least given him something to puzzle over.

As if by design, Bingley and Jane chose that moment to wander into their vicinity and thus joined the other couple just as Elizabeth was struggling for some means of excusing herself.

"I say, Darcy, this will turn out to be a first class affair I think!" Bingley's eternal optimism knew no bounds. How he could call a ramshackle gathering of country gentility a 'first class affair' astounded his more worldly friend. "I could get to like this sort of thing. Perhaps I shall make it a regular occurrence."

Good Lord, no! thought Darcy as the sight of several young ladies hanging on the arms of officers attested to the base class of some of the guests. Yet it was Elizabeth who voiced an objection.

"Kind as your offer is, Mr. Bingley, I'm afraid it would not do at all. One ball per year is quite enough for the younger ladies and gentlemen of Meryton. Any more than that and you run the risk of spoiling them."

Bingley looked thoughtful. "I confess I hadn't thought of that, Miss Elizabeth. Still, there would be assemblies to make up for the lack of formal balls, wouldn't there?" He turned a completely besotted gaze on Jane who blushed prettily and lowered her eyes before answering with a polite affirmative. "There, you see! This will be a most delightful place to live. I am so glad I took this house, Darcy. Aren't you?"

"It does have its attractions, Bingley." Darcy's voice was cool, his eyes never leaving Elizabeth's face. "Are you not as fond of dancing as your sisters appear to be, Miss Elizabeth?"

She seemed startled to be addressed. "Whatever would give you that idea, sir? I very much enjoy dancing."

A small smile of self satisfaction appeared on his face. "Perhaps you would do me the honour of a dance this evening, then?"

Elizabeth knew not what to say. There was no time for her to think as Darcy awaited her response and both Jane and Bingley were watching her with interest. "Yes," she finally said. "I must caution you, however, that I am committed to the first two with my cousin. Have you met Mr. Collins yet, Mr. Darcy?"

Quite pleased with his success, Darcy was not about to let a lowly cousin come between himself and the lady of his choice. He had an idea in this direction. "No, I have not had that pleasure. I trust that you will enjoy your evening, Miss Elizabeth. If you will excuse me," he added with a slight bow.

She curtseyed and watched him walk away, puzzling over his desire to dance with her. Her sister and Bingley were sharing a secret between them so Elizabeth turned away to give them some privacy.

"Darcy has never voluntarily asked a lady to dance at one of these affairs," Bingley was saying. "I believe he has found your sister to be too intriguing to ignore."

Jane's eyes were wide with curiosity. "Intriguing? Mr. Bingley, I realise that Lizzy is quite beautiful and a delightful young lady but why would Mr. Darcy find this intriguing? He must meet many women in London who offer similar qualities."

Bingley scoffed at that. "Darcy is too fastidious for the ladies of Town. He is too fastidious for just about any lady!" Smiling down at Jane he added, "I cannot blame him, though, for admiring the second loveliest Miss Bennet."

Her breath caught in her throat, Jane struggled against her rapidly beating heart and melting emotions to maintain focus on the subject of Mr. Darcy and her sister. "He admires Lizzy?"

"Yes, is it not obvious?" Bingley once again found amusement in her words. He directed her gaze to where his friend stood on the opposite side of the room, apparently glowering at a group of men surrounding Elizabeth. "You see? He cannot bear to see her so importuned by other men."

Jane observed Darcy from a new perspective. "Lizzy always thought he was staring at her because he disapproved. She heard," Jane added quietly, "that he referred to her as just 'tolerable' at the Meryton Assembly."

Bingley's smile faded as he recalled that scene. "Please don't tell me that your sister overheard that conversation? That was terribly unfair of me to place Darcy in such a position. He had just suffered a terrible experience, personally, and I was pestering him to dance, something he detests at the best of times. I should have been more sympathetic to his feelings."

Jane found it difficult to believe that Mr. Bingley could by unsympathetic at any time. "So, his asking Lizzy to dance is quite significant! I always thought her judgment of him was too harsh and premature. I hope she is more open minded when they do take to the floor later this evening. I fear that her patience may be tested by the necessity of dancing with our cousin first, however."

"Is he so very bad?"

"Oh, I do not know how he dances but it is generally agreed upon at Longbourn that we do not wish to encourage his attentions in... um... any particular direction." Jane finished with an embarrassed biting of her lip.

"I see," Bingley chuckled. By now he and Jane had reached the end of the room nearest the musicians and he gave the signal to those men to call the dancers to the floor. "Miss Bennet, would you do me the honour of opening the Netherfield Ball with the first dance?" He took her proffered hand and placed her for the opening strains of the music. While they waited for the other couples to line up Bingley noted that Elizabeth was led to the floor by his friend and not by the stout clergyman whose acquaintance he had made upon the Bennets' arrival not much earlier. How Darcy had managed to extricate the lady from her certain fate he could only imagine, and that imagination led him to suppose that an exercise in privilege of rank had taken place. Mr. Collins was standing on the sidelines looking quite put out while still managing to convey the impression of simpering compliance.

Elizabeth was just as put out, it seemed. Her address of her dance partner was hardly what one usually offered. "Is this the standard form at Almacks this season, Mr. Darcy? I do not get to London often but even at this remote distance we are kept informed of changes to the accepted manner of obtaining a lady's hand for a dance. I had not heard that usurping another man's entitlement was now the fashion."

A ghost of a smile played on his features as he replied. "It seems, Miss Bennet, that your cousin could not take it upon himself to deprive me of the honour of taking his place once he had heard that I, too, had solicited your hand and was not permitted the opening dances as a result of his prior arrangement. He appeared quite devastated by my disappointment." Darcy bowed low as the music cued them to commence. He was amused by Elizabeth's flustered curtsey before he took her hand and they began the first steps.

Contrary to her expectations, Darcy was neither clumsy nor inept at the dance. His reluctance to participate at any former gatherings had led her to believe that his dislike of the ritual was due to faulty or incompetent performance on his part. She was now forced to concede that his execution was far from flawed; it was near perfect. Not only was this her opinion but it was supported by the throngs that lined the dance floor to observe the two of them in partnership. Elizabeth felt herself flushing with embarrassment at being so singled out, not only by Darcy but by the other guests for they would, as they did with Jane and Bingley, begin speculating about the coupling of another Bennet daughter with this particular young man of good fortune. For that, Elizabeth was barely able to keep her countenance. Any who would think Elizabeth Bennet was casting a lure at Mr. Darcy would be in for a rude awakening when she gave them a piece of her mind.

The colour in Elizabeth's cheeks looked so enchanting that Darcy nearly took a misstep. He did not delude himself that she was flattered by his attentions for by this time he was well aware that her opinion of him was not equal to his opinion of her. Nevertheless he would indulge certain whims of his own in his dealings with her. One of those whims was to enjoy her frustration with his reserved silences when she was determined to converse. Not that he did not appreciate Elizabeth's sharp mind or witty repartée but when spurred on by annoyance with himself she was something to behold! Even more interesting was that compliments from him made her even angrier.

What an amazingly intriguing woman!

What an unbelievably irritating man! fumed Elizabeth. Not only does he brandish his rank like a weapon, taking advantage and pushing aside Mr. Collins to dance with me but he flaunts it as if he's proud of this behaviour as well! The colour was steadily rising in her cheeks. Everyone is staring at us. They think he's smitten with me! They have no idea how low his opinion of me really is.

"Miss Bennet, are you feeling quite well?" Darcy's voice startled her out of her ruminations and she realised that they had come to the end of the line, awaiting the dance to recommence. "You appear a trifle agitated. Come, let us sit this dance out." He made to take her arm but Elizabeth stepped back.

"No, no. I am quite alright, I assure you." She had no intention of drawing even further speculation by abandoning the dance floor and retreating to a private corner with Mr. Darcy! "It is just a little warm here. I will be fine in a moment."

"Very well." Darcy's smirk was only in his mind but he was hardly unaware of the numerous eyes upon them. It was close. He had almost managed to put Miss Bennet in a position where she would be forced to speak with him privately but alas, he would have to find another opportunity. He forged on with Plan B. "I believe you mentioned making a new acquaintance when Bingley and I met you on your walk into Meryton."

"Yes," Elizabeth quickly responded, seeing at last an opportunity to exercise her frustrations on her adversary. "I understand that you and Mr. Wickham have known each other for some time."

"Since childhood, actually," Darcy smoothly replied. He could see her confusion with his answer. She had obviously expected him to be the disconcerted one. It was apparent that Wickham was up to his old tricks again. "I suppose you noticed the cold manner of our greeting. Yes, I have no reason to approve of nor promote Mr. Wickham in any of his pursuits. He has proven himself completely undeserving in every instance. Despite ample funds and numerous opportunities for education and employment, Mr. Wickham has squandered his money, left debts and ruined reputations in his wake and attempted far more heinous acts that are most improper to bring to the attention of a respectable lady such as yourself."

During this speech Elizabeth held her breath, entirely aghast. She knew not what to believe. Mr. Wickham had given no indication that he possessed any sort of character similar to the type Mr. Darcy was now describing. Yet she was not so naive as to doubt that such a man could conceivably disguise his less desirable tendencies behind a charming facade. She had little time to consider what the officer had told her, however, before Darcy spoke again.

"I would not criticise you for believing whatever tales he has told you, Miss Bennet. Alas, not many of us have that ease of manner which some possess in conversing with strangers as if they have been known to us for many years."

Struck by this comment, Elizabeth realised what improprieties Mr. Wickham had committed in detailing his personal life so explicitly to her. It now became imperative to re-evaluate all of her other preconceived notions of these two men. How could Mr. Darcy's version be correct? This called for more research and to that end she began to make enquiries of the gentleman at hand.

"I do not understand, Mr. Darcy. What purpose would it serve Mr. Wickham to fabricate tales about you?"

"Ah, then he has mentioned myself specifically in his narratives." Darcy nodded solemnly. "I did not dare hope my reputation could escape unscathed with him in the vicinity. It never does."

There was a brief period of silence between them as the dance separated the pairs. This gave Elizabeth time to think on what he had said and what it might possibly mean. When they were at last rejoined she was ready with her next question.

"Why did you oust Mr. Collins from his rightful place as my partner for these dances, sir?" she challenged.

One corner of Darcy's mouth turned up in a sly grin. "I did not care for the thought of your toes being trod upon by that.... graceless clergyman."

"But Mr. Darcy!" Elizabeth cried in mock resentment. "You cannot know how proficient my cousin is in the dance not having seen him perform!"

"Ah, but Miss Bennet," he replied without a blink. "He cannot know how much more proficient I am than he, and neither could you as we did not have the pleasure of dancing together prior to this evening."

"We may have if you had condescended to dance with the local ladies that first evening at the Assembly rooms. But I dare say you found the company barely tolerable."

Darcy seemed to start at her words and a look of regret came over his features. "So, you heard that, did you? I must apologise for my rudeness, Miss Bennet. I was in an ill humour that evening but it was still unforgivable."

"An ill humour? That had nothing to do, I suppose, with being surrounded by people of a lesser quality than those to whom you were accustomed?" Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at him and dared him to contradict her opinion of his opinions.

"Not at all, Miss Bennet!" he replied with honest surprise. "There were some recent circumstances which I'm not at complete liberty to divulge that preoccupied my thoughts that night and unfortunately left a bad taste in my mouth for certain, may I say, views on eligibility."

A sudden sympathy for his position as prime merchandise at the Meryton Market made Elizabeth squirm inwardly. She was in no doubt that her mother's voice had been clearly audible that evening in heralding the arrival of 'Ten Thousand Pounds a Year' into their midst, not to mention the likelihood of her own daughters snaring the honour of capture of said prey. Her curiosity did not miss his reference to 'recent circumstances', either, and she wondered what unfortunate events had transpired to have so influenced his attitudes. "Perhaps some to tend to allow their excitement to cloud judgment when presented with an unusually attractive opportunity."

Darcy nodded. "While some indulge in disguising their true motives."

"Is there a preferred approach, then?" Elizabeth felt uncomfortably drawn to comparing the substance of this part of the conversation and what Darcy had said about Mr. Wickham. "I mean, I prefer honesty to disguise."

"I must agree that honesty is my preferred approach, as well," Darcy conceded before adding, "although an added preference is the adherence to social proprieties."

Ooh, that stung! Elizabeth's face reflected her emotions. She assumed Darcy to be referring to her mother's less than tactful crowing about Jane and Mr. Bingley, not to mention Darcy's attractive fortune. His mind, however, was more agreeably engaged. He was not so much contemplating the faux pas of her family inasmuch as the lively and intelligent challenges of the lady herself. Elizabeth's frequent flirtations with borderline incivilities amused him greatly, catching more than just a passing fancy.

"Mr. Darcy," she managed to say once her breathing was under control. "I must say that I am quite surprised at your claim. Our prior acquaintance at the assembly rooms did not offer such insight into your character." It was Darcy's turn to feel the sting of a justified accusation. "Of course," continued Elizabeth. "You have explained that there were circumstances preoccupying your thoughts that evening. I must accept that as your reply."

The dance chose that moment to separate them again, this time for an extended period. Darcy had several minutes to consider her words while he covered the next few steps with a very much awed young lady whose unceasing commentary he never heard. By the time Elizabeth's hand was once again in his, Darcy's mind was made up. The music came to an end, the partners paid their respects with customary bows and curtseys, then the gentlemen took the ladies' hands and cleared the floor for the next assemblage. Darcy had intended to lead Elizabeth in the opposite direction of Bingley and Miss Bennet but his plans were foiled. Bingley himself had hurried over to speak with his friend, Jane still on his arm.

Part Two

Posted on Tuesday, 31 December 2002, at 3:36 p.m.

"What say we get some punch for the ladies, Darcy?" Bingley's boyish face gave no hint of ulterior motives. His expression also left his friend no choice but to agree. As they left the ladies several young men migrated over in their direction to take up where Darcy and Bingley had left off.

Darcy eyed them uneasily from his position beside the punch bowl. "What is so important that you had to drag me over here, Bingley?"

"Drag you?" For a moment Bingley looked confused. "I just needed to ... oh!" He had caught sight of the eager beaux surrounding Jane and Elizabeth. "Never mind them. I am going to ask Jane to marry me."

"Yes, I am aware of that."

"Tonight!"

Darcy's head came up with a start. "Tonight? Why tonight?"

"Why not?" Bingley grinned. "I'm sure she'll accept me. There's no reason to wait, is there?"

"Well," Darcy began. "Well... er... I suppose you're right." His eyes were still being lured by the sounds of merriment issuing from the direction of the Misses Bennet. "Bingley, are you sure she returns your affections?"

"I am without a doubt," his friend replied with confidence.

Darcy frowned. "How can you be so sure? I have detected no signs of partiality on her part."

"You haven't?" Bingley thought about that for a minute before laughing. "She's like you in that respect, Darcy. Miss Bennet does not openly display her feelings like many others. However, once you get to know her then it's more easily detected." A sly grin and raised eyebrows accompanied this last remark causing Darcy to wonder how well his friend could tell what he was feeling and thinking.

"Well, if you are convinced I cannot fault your choice. You have given some thought to any other considerations? Her family? You know that there is no appreciable dowry connected with any of them."

"Does that really matter?"

Confusion registered on Darcy's face. "Yes, of course," he said beginning to doubt the truth of it himself. As if to reassure himself of the veracity he added, "It is the whole purpose of marriage; maintaining or improving your fortune and station."

Bingley laughed. Upon seeing his friend not joining in the merriment he self consciously stopped and coughed. "I can see that you are serious. Is that really what you were told to look for in a wife?"

Darcy appeared to think about that before replying. "It is of primary importance, yes. Intellectually I understand the necessity of respect and mutual affection for an agreeable union but many couples have had satisfactory marriages based on nothing more than practical circumstances."

"I can't think that sort of arrangement could be much fun." Bingley made a face. "I would much rather content myself in the knowledge that my wife loves me as much as I love her."

"While you feast on bread and water, no doubt." Smiling, Darcy picked up two glasses of punch from the table and handed them to his friend. "It is fortunate that you do have a fortune of your own to rely upon, Bingley."

"And a good friend to remind me of the practicalities?" Bingley concluded. He took the glasses while Darcy retrieved two more. A quick look toward the ladies allowed him to catch Jane's shy smile in his direction. "Is it too arrogant of me to remind you of the delights of being in love?"

It was too early for the reserved Darcy to admit his already bewitched state, even to his closest friend. "You arrogant? Not possible. I will suggest, though, that the delights you experience are not what all of us remember of the emotion."

Eyebrows rose in surprise. "You remember being in love? Pray, when was this? If it was not delightful I can understand your reluctance to embark upon it once more."

Darcy cursed his poor choice of words. "My recollection of being in love is only through vicarious experience, Bingley. Observation of others. It has not always appeared to be so wondrously delightful for them." His eyes betrayed him, however, as he could not control their wandering glimpse toward the elder Misses Bennet. "Enough of this solemn topic, however. Let us return to the ladies and relieve their thirst."

Bingley was happy enough to follow his suggestion. Jane gave him another one of her smiles when he stepped up to her side. It seemed to him that she had never stopped smiling. She took a dainty sip of the punch and they silently grinned at one another.

Darcy was not so fortunate. Elizabeth's admirers were not inclined to allow him admittance to the inner circle and he stood a little aloof to one side, feeling quite ridiculous holding a glass in each hand and restraining the urge to shuffle his feet like a shy schoolboy. At last the lady in question took pity upon him and scolded her nearest devotee into making room for him. Reluctantly, the other gentleman stepped away and Elizabeth's mischievously sparkling eyes invited Darcy toward her. He offered her the punch which she accepted with a light laugh. The gentlemen who comprised the rest of the group warily observed the interloper, determined to protect their favourite from any harm he may represent. That such a man could have serious intentions or even respectable ones toward Miss Elizabeth Bennet would not occur to them. He was a disagreeable sort and therefore not to be trusted.

"Have none of you any partners with whom to dance? Surely you don't think I would be so selfish as to keep you all to myself," Elizabeth teased.

The young men objected, saying that nothing gave them greater pleasure than her company. This only made Elizabeth laugh again and brought such colour to her cheeks and sparkle to her eyes as to further enhance Darcy's admiration of her. He wanted nothing more than to have a private moment with her, to explain himself and ask her forgiveness for any unintended offense that may have occurred during the brief period of their acquaintance thus far. His impatience he feared would be his undoing for if his desire for a private audience went unappeased for very much longer he knew there would be no disguising it. As if on cue, however, the others finally took the hint and one by one excused themselves to find dance partners from amongst the other local ladies. At last Darcy alone remained. Elizabeth was undecided as to how she felt about this. Their conversation during the dance had piqued her curiosity yet she remained unsettled after the violence of her disappointment and anger upon discovering Mr. Wickham's absence from the Ball. She chose to sip slowly at her punch and awaited the gentleman to make the first attempt at a renewed discussion.

"You are an amazing young woman, Miss Bennet."

Nothing could be calculated to surprise Elizabeth more than this comment. "What do you mean, Mr. Darcy? I have done nothing to deserve such a description, I am certain."

Darcy favoured her with a faint but amused smile. "On the contrary. For a woman to be able to so adroitly handle such a group of admirers without offending a one bespeaks a remarkable skill."

Laughing merrily, she responded, "I fear you have overestimated my abilities, Mr. Darcy. My admirers are friends of many years. We have all grown up together and enjoy one another's company at every public gathering."

Darcy doubted not the sincerity of her side of the story but did not for one minute believe in the innocence of the young men's desire for her companionship. He was doubly grateful for her ability to rid herself of their attentions and resolved to not waste any time now granted him with this opportunity. "Miss Bennet," he began.

"Yes?" she immediately responded as if anticipating his address.

"Is there someplace private we may speak?"

"Why ever for?" she said before catching her tongue. The last thing she wanted was a private tête à tête with this man in a ballroom where all of her family and friends could see it and wonder.......... and speculate.

"There is a particular matter of importance that I should wish to discuss with you. It concerns Mr. Wickham." As difficult as it was to voice that man's name Darcy knew the only hope he had of Elizabeth consenting to accompany him to more secluded location lay in this topic.

"Oh," she mouthed. Elizabeth could not deny her desire to learn more on this subject and here was Darcy offering it openly. Where could they go, though? Where was there that would not arouse suspicions in the minds of anyone who observed their departure? "Perhaps a quiet corner of the dining hall?" This did not seem like an ideal location to Darcy but he was about to consent nonetheless when the forgotten Bingley suddenly spoke.

"Could I ask you both a favour?" His eyes were round and hopeful. "Miss Bennet has indicated that she began a book during her convalescence here but was unable to finish it. Would you mind accompanying us to the library so that we may find it? I'd like to give it to her to take home." Bingley turned to look adoringly upon Jane.

"Yes, of course," Elizabeth stammered. "I would be happy to. I think I know the book Jane means."

Darcy could not believe the timing of Bingley's request. It was almost as if he'd been listening to the conversation with Elizabeth, although Darcy discounted that possibility. It was greatly out of character for Bingley to eavesdrop. Nevertheless he, too, consented to accompany them to the library. The two couples left the ballroom, Bingley chattering animatedly to Jane while Darcy was considering how to keep Elizabeth in the library to continue the discussion upon which he was heaping more importance. Elizabeth herself was a trifle apprehensive. Knowing what Mr. Wickham had told her and wondering at the contrary information provided by Darcy during their dance was a lure she could not resist.

The excursion to the library proved quite fruitful. Jane's novel of interest was easily discovered and while she and Bingley discussed its relative merits in an window alcove, Darcy drew Elizabeth to the farthest point from the other couple.

"I do not wish to alarm you, Miss Bennet," he quietly attempted to assure her. "There is something about Mr. Wickham of which you, at least, should be made aware."

"Why me?" Elizabeth asked, puzzled by his sudden earnestness.

"Forgive me if I presume too much, Miss Elizabeth." His reverting to her Christian name, although prefaced with the proper title of Miss, struck Elizabeth as if he intended to convey some hint of intimacy between them. "I caution you as I would a young lady upon whom Mr. Wickham has bestowed attentions of a romantic nature. I will not ask if I am correct in this assumption but please hear me out. He has a history of pursuing young ladies for whom he has reason to suspect have a considerable fortune. His spending habits demand his attention to such details. I realise that everyone desires a sound financial match when considering marriage but... erm..." Here Darcy paused awkwardly, the words seeming oddly disturbing to his own ears. "I feel that I must caution you to take care. Please do not accept everything he says at face value. You would not be the first innocent to be taken in by his charming ways."

Elizabeth could only stare at him, not quite understanding why he felt compelled to speak to her in this manner but strangely flattered that he would take the trouble to do so. Darcy misunderstood her silence as disbelief of his words.

"I cannot stress enough that this man has proven himself to be treacherously unpredictable. Please believe me, Elizabeth. I should not wish to see you fall victim to his selfish designs."

Her eyes widened. Such familiarity! What did it all mean? What horrible things was he suggesting Mr. Wickham capable of doing? "Mr. Darcy," she finally whispered, her voice unable to rise above this hushed tone. "I sincerely hope you are not suggesting that my reputation is at risk."

If anyone was to put her reputation in jeopardy it was Darcy himself who might be tempted. However, he was not about to be distracted by such musings. "No, my concern was for your heart, Miss Bennet," he said, returning to the formal address with some effort. "I have too great a respect for you to see you injured."

Respect? He respects me? The notion was foreign to Elizabeth. She was far too used to thinking of him as a disagreeable man who thought her only 'tolerable'. His entire disclosure was a puzzle. She simply had to know more. "I thank you for your consideration, sir. I am at a loss to understand why I should accept your version of events over Mr. Wickham's though."

Darcy appeared to struggle for words, one hand almost reaching out to her own. He recollected himself, however, and let out a sigh before replying. "Of course you would not blindly accept one story over another. You are far too intelligent a woman to make that mistake."

Once again his compliment took her by surprise. Elizabeth was not above experiencing a stab of guilty remorse for possibly making that exact mistake. "You are too generous, Mr. Darcy. I deserve no such praise." She dropped her gaze to the floor, unwilling to reveal just how gullible she had been. At a touch on her chin, however, she looked up into his eyes. There was a depth there that she had never noticed.

"You are a beautiful woman," he whispered. It was obvious that he was completely unaware that he had voiced his thought. He was also unaware of the turmoil of Elizabeth's thoughts upon hearing his words although he soon realised that their position could be misinterpreted if Bingley happened to glance in their direction. Dropping his hand to his side, Darcy stole a quick look to confirm his friend's continued station by the window and said, "Forgive me, Miss Bennet, for my blunt honesty. I meant no offense."

Offense? Why would I be offended to be called beautiful? Elizabeth shook her head as if in a daze. "I am not in the least offended, Mr. Darcy," she murmured. "I am quite flattered."

He blinked in surprise. Flattering her was the farthest thing from his mind although achieving it, however he had accomplished that feat, was a victory in itself. "Miss Bennet." Darcy's voice, low but intense, brought his body closer to Elizabeth's. Her eyes, full and round, stared up into his face, her lips slowly parting.

"I cannot believe it!" came a sudden cry from the far side of the room. Darcy and Elizabeth jumped away from each other. "Well, yes I can but if anything was too good to be true... Darcy!"

"Yes, Bingley," replied Darcy, quickly lest his friend suspect something was amiss on his half of the room. "Is there something you wish to tell us?"

Jane and Bingley crossed the floor to join the other couple, Jane's face beaming shyly with unmistakable joy. Before either could make an announcement Darcy spoke. "Congratulations are in order, I take it?"

"Oh, Lizzy!" Jane excitedly whispered to her sister as Bingley nodded enthusiastically and Darcy clapped his friend on the shoulder. Elizabeth's head was spinning with the rapidity of it all. She felt as if she was in a novel. "Can you believe it is true, Lizzy?" Jane was saying. "It is all too good! We must go to Mama."

"No!" Elizabeth's voice was strangled, thankfully reducing the volume of her objection. "I do think it might be better to wait, don't you? After all, Mr. Bingley has not spoken with Papa, yet."

"A very good suggestion," Darcy added, giving his friend a significant look. "I would also suggest that you wait until tomorrow before addressing him, however."

"Why is that?" Elizabeth fixed him with a suspicious eye.

"A proposal in the middle of a Ball? It might appear that he was under the influence of -."

"Are you suggesting that Mr. Bingley is drunk?" she demanded hotly.

"Not in the least!" Darcy protested.

Indignantly, Elizabeth continued, "Then you implied that my father would think that! Is my sister considered by you to be so beneath your notice that it would take copious amounts of alcohol to coax an offer of marriage for her?"

"Certainly not," Darcy said although his thoughts were But I would need it to make a proposal of marriage to you!

"Lizzy, please!" Jane was looking distraught. She disliked arguments as much as Bingley, the latter staring at his future sister-in-law in shocked surprise.

"My intent," explained Darcy in a painfully slow manner, "was to provide a period of quiet enjoyment for our happy couple before they must face the inevitable chaos of well wishers and wedding plans. This would leave them no time to themselves, I am sure." Not to mention I would find no time to spend alone with you, Elizabeth.

Elizabeth was taken aback by this explanation although she could hardly credit the truth of it being his feelings. "I am truly sorry, Jane. Mr. Bingley, please forgive my outburst." She swallowed her pride before turning toward the other gentleman. "Mr. Darcy, if I have misinterpreted you, I ask you to forgive me also." A solemn nod of acceptance was his reply although Bingley and Jane were quickly and easily won over, returning to their previous state of ebullience.

Darcy's discouragement of an immediate entreaty for Mr. Bennet's consent eventually had the desired effect; the happy couple retreated to their beloved window alcove, leaving Elizabeth and Darcy alone once more. The progress that had been made prior to Bingley's interruption was now in question. As Darcy recalled, Elizabeth had appeared ready and willing to -

"Where were we?" The lady currently had a less than pliant expression on her face.

Darcy raised an eyebrow. "You were flattered by my honesty, Miss Bennet. Have you forgotten so quickly?"

"Your honesty," she repeated. "No, I have not forgotten." Elizabeth bit her lip and studied him a moment. "You are a great contradiction of opinions, sir. First I am merely tolerable and now I am beautiful." Darcy gave a start. "I begin to wonder what description you will next apply to my person."

Darcy thought quickly lest he lose whatever advantage he might possess. "Logically it could only improve. Let me see.... what could be more complimentary than 'beautiful'?"

Although she felt her anger draining away with the direction this conversation was taking, Elizabeth could not completely ignore temptation. "I might also logically suspect you to revert back to your original opinion, not necessarily improve upon the last. How do I know that you are not suffering the effects of drink?" A slight cant of her head gave away the teasing nature of her provocation.

"If I were," Darcy said in a low voice, closing the space between them, "it would only reinforce the truth of my opinion of you as.... beautiful." One hand rose to touch her hair. "It is commonly known that drink has the power to reveal what one truly thinks and feels."

"Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth's voice was breathy. "What has Mr. Bingley put in the punch?

Part Three

Posted on Friday, 10 January 2003, at 7:23 p.m.

"Where is my nephew?"

Heads turned as even the music was overwhelmed by the strident voice calling out across the ballroom. The musicians continued their playing despite the chaos of the dancers as by ones and twos they stopped to catch a glimpse of the disturbance. A high fashionably attired woman stood in the entryway, her sharp gaze raking over the assemblage with visible distaste.

"Where is Darcy?" she demanded, those nearest her flinching with the sharpness of her tone.

At the mention of a name Caroline Bingley stepped forward, seizing the opportunity to ingratiate herself upon someone connected to the man she was destined to marry. "May I be of assistance?"

The new arrival eyed the younger woman critically. "Unless you can tell me where my nephew is then you are wasting my time."

"He is here," Miss Bingley quickly assured her. "Without a doubt. I saw him only moments ago, dancing." She craned her neck in an effort to find Darcy in the sea of heads. "I am sure I can find him for you." She paused. "Madam? I am afraid I do not know your name."

"As I do not know yours!" snapped the older woman. "I, however, am Lady Catherine de Bourgh of Rosings Park," she regally announced. "And you?"

"Miss Caroline Bingley," she managed to say between clenched teeth. If this was an example of the type of family she could expect once she married Darcy then his fortune had better be worth it. "I am the lady of the house."

Lady Catherine sniffed disdainfully, looking around her with a critical eye. "You have a very small ballroom here, I must say. It must be very inconvenient in the summer months. Why, the windows do not even open onto a balcony."

"Yes, my Lady," Miss Bingley ground out. "We have not yet been here for more than a few weeks at best, however, and it is but a lease my brother holds upon the house. I daresay he shall make a purchase elsewhere."

Taking her pince nez up and holding it to her right eye, Lady Catherine indulged in a piercing examination of her hostess. "You say you know where my nephew is? Then why are you still standing there? Like an addled washerwoman you appear. Be quick now! I must see my nephew at once."

From the edge of the awed spectators crept a pitiful creature. It was Mr. Collins; upon hearing the voice of his noble patroness he had hastened forward to see what duty he might perform for her. It was perfect timing as far as Miss Bingley was concerned. Although she had no idea of his connection to this arrogant woman, once he had opened his mouth, a mouth full of platitudes and adulations, she had latched onto the clergyman as a means to accomplish her distasteful task with little or no effort on her own part.

"My dear Lady Catharine," Collins was saying. "If I may be so bold as to tell you that I observed your nephew, the illustrious Mr. Darcy, in the company of his friend Mr. Bingley, leave this room only moments ago to seek out a book, I believe, in Mr. Bingley's library. If it pleases you I shall be honoured to go to the library to convey your wish to speak with him."

"That will not be necessary, Mr. Collins," the Lady said dismissively. "Just direct me to the library and I shall speak with him there. I have no desire to wait with these... people." She waved a hand to some hitherto unnoticed young ladies standing in the shadows behind her. "Anne, Georgiana. Come."

Scuttling ahead of the ladies, Mr. Collins directed them with gesticulating hands and arms until the party had disappeared through the doorway which led to the area of the house in which the library lay. In the ballroom there was a silence for a full minute as every guest stared, bemused, at the retreating backs of the strangers. Just as suddenly, the room erupted into excited speculation.

In the hallway Mr. Collins had finally realised that he did not know where the library was and it was even more difficult to find it with his head bowed, his body bent and his eyes cast down in deference to his noble patroness. Lady Catherine noticed none of this. Her sharp eyes took in every detail of the walls and doors lining the hall, searching for that exact one beyond which would lie the library and her nephew. Spying an open door she marched past her posturing parson and entered the room.

"What is this?" she demanded in a tone that brooked no opposition.

"I... beg your pardon?" Bingley gaped at the assembled persons in the doorway. "Miss Darcy, is that you?" he asked, squinting to see past the formidable figure of the matriarch who stood between them.

"Georgiana?" an incredulous voice called, the man to which it belonged appearing from behind the open door. "Good Lord, what are you doing here?" Darcy took in the faces of the others with his sister. "Anne! Lady Catherine! What has happened?"

Wasting no time at all, Lady Catherine strode further into the room and placed herself so that she faced them all. "I have no idea who this other young man is but I will get straight to the point. Darcy, a report of a most alarming nature reached me not two days ago. I must have the truth. To this end," she said, pointing to Bingley and Jane, "I must ask that you leave us immediately."

"Aunt Catherine, please -."

"Silence, niece. Have you learned nothing?" Georgiana shrunk back behind her brother's shoulder. Darcy's expression darkened. Their aunt simply stared at Bingley until he took Jane by the hand and politely excused himself and her, then left the room with a wide eyed look at Darcy. Lady Catherine then dismissed Mr. Collins with a wave of her hand, something he was evidently accustomed to obeying, and turned to her nephew. "I demand an explanation."

"I have no idea to what you refer."

"A convenient excuse," his aunt sniffed. "I refer, of course, to your sister's recent fall from grace. What have you done to this Wickham character to ensure that it never happens again?"

Darcy's frown deepened. The haze which had surrounded him moments before in Elizabeth's presence was dissipating. "I believe that is my business, Lady Catherine, and not yours. I would thank you to leave it in my hands."

"I would be happy to do so if I felt you were capable of handling it properly. The fact that Georgiana was allowed to fall into such a lapse indicates the unsuitability of having young men as her guardians." She wrinkled up her nose at the selection of chairs before choosing one and settling into it. "We shall now discuss the arrangements for her to be moved to Rosings."

"We shall not." Darcy turned to his sister. "Georgiana, please take your cousin and find Miss Bingley. She will be able to direct you to some rooms so that you may rest after your distressing trip here." His sister nodded and grabbed Miss de Bourgh's hand, leaving the room before Lady Catherine could form words. "I will not have Georgiana exposed to this conversation."

"Your concern for her feelings is admirable, Darcy, but it is a bit late for that now. My niece obviously requires a firmer hand than you have been applying. I hardly expect you to know how to raise a young girl but I have the experience and am only too happy to be of assistance. Now, I have already spoken with Fitzwilliam and gleaned the details from him but what I need from you is the assurance that this Wickham person will be brought to justice, discreetly, of course."

"Justice?" Darcy exhaled slowly. "There is no justice to be sought. Wickham's attempt was not successful. There is nothing to pursue further. He has been dealt with."

"No justice!" Lady Catherine was aghast. "You would allow this ruffian to remain at large after seducing your sister and attempting to elope with her?"

"She was not harmed, thankfully, and the planned elopement was revealed to me before it could be attempted. I am satisfied that both Georgiana and her reputation are safe." Darcy's eyes narrowed. "As long as our family remains discreet."

"I shall make every assurance of that once my niece is safely under my care at Rosings. Well, now that we have that settled," she said, rising to leave.

"Georgiana is not going to Rosings. I will not consent to any such scheme which removes her from my care." Chin up, Darcy stood his ground.

"Your care is not sufficient." Their eyes met.

"My father entrusted Georgiana's welfare to myself and Fitzwilliam. Evidently he was satisfied with our abilities."

Lady Catherine grunted. "Yes, your father's opinions are another matter entirely, Darcy."

"I have no wish to argue with you, aunt. I suggest that since the hour is late I take you to Miss Bingley to see about a room for yourself for tonight. I presume you made no other arrangements for accommodation?"

"In such a place as this? Certainly not! Country inns would be the death of Anne." Peering at Darcy she put in one last effort. "Of course, Georgiana could benefit equally well from the presence of a sister. Someone of unquestionably refined taste."

Darcy chose not to comment on this last but his mind picked up the suggestion and dwelt upon it rather pleasantly. His aunt would have been horrified to know that the 'sister' he had in mind was not the one of her choosing. She continued lauding her own daughter's fine qualities as her nephew led her from the library and back to the ballroom in search of their hostess.

Emerging from the shadows in a far corner of the room, Elizabeth peered around the door to make certain that she would not be seen. She was sure that Mr. Darcy's aunt had not realised her presence and wondered that Darcy didn't ask her to leave with the others. The information revealed had been considerably personal and highly confidential. Had Darcy meant for her to hear it? Was this what he had hinted about when he said that Mr. Wickham had committed acts that could not be discussed with a young lady such as herself? She considered the young woman, Georgiana Darcy, that she had seen moments earlier. Seeming to be a shy thing, Elizabeth could not imagine her in the role of willing conspirator in an elopement. If an elopement had been planned then it must have been Wickham's doing and the prevention of it, Darcy's.

Caught up in her contemplations Elizabeth did not at first hear the muttering voices coming from the hallway ahead of her. When she finally did become aware of them she glanced around hurriedly for someplace to conceal herself so as not to be caught out suspiciously. A nearby door offered her refuge and she quickly ducked into the room beyond.

"Miss Bennet!"

The voice stilled her. Elizabeth composed her expression and faced Mr. Wickham. "Mr. Wickham! It was my understanding that you were called out of town on business."

"I ... returned early." He fidgeted with the bottom edge of his red coat, glancing nervously toward the door. "Miss Bennet, it would not be to your advantage for us to be found together in this room, alone."

"No, it would not," she replied, wondering if he had considered her reputation at all or merely his own freedom. Voices were becoming more clear as those to whom they belonged approached from outside the door. Elizabeth scanned the room, her eyes coming to rest on a tall wardrobe on one wall. "When needs must," she sighed, slipping inside the piece of furniture. A startled Wickham watched the wardrobe snick shut just as the room's door opened for Colonel Fitzwilliam and Darcy.

"Why did you bring him here?" Darcy glared at Wickham.

"Lovely to see you again, too."

Fitzwilliam signalled them to keep their voices quiet. "How was I supposed to know there was a ball here tonight?"

"I could have told you," Wickham smiled. "You wouldn't have listened, though."

"Be quiet," the other men said simultaneously.

"What can I do now?" Fitzwilliam paced the room. "Aunt Catherine has set the Runners on his trail. I had no choice but to find him before they did else the entire incident would be exposed."

"She is here in this house. He cannot stay." Darcy ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "How did she find out, Fitzwilliam?"

A bit sheepishly, his cousin replied, "It was my fault. You know I can't evade her questions."

"Our aunt should be a member of His Majesty's army, interrogating spies," grumbled Darcy. "All the more reason to dispose of this one." He pointed a finger at Wickham.

"Hey!" objected the gentleman under discussion. "I resent being talked about like I'm not even here."

"Be quiet," said the other two.

"Where do you suggest I take him?" Fitzwilliam watched Wickham uneasily. "He's not exactly cooperative, you know."

Sizing up their quarry with an expert's eye, Darcy said, "How did you get him here in the first place?"

"I walked here of my own volition." There was no way that Wickham was going to be left out of the conversation. He alone knew of the witness in the wardrobe, likely able to hear everything that was being said and he was determined not to appear the guilty party in this scenario. "I will walk out again quite willingly, too."

"Of that I have no doubt. You'd keep walking until we had no idea where you have gone, too." The Colonel shook his head. "No, with the Bow Street Runners after you, Wickham, you'll not have a chance. Darcy's right. Much as I hate the thought of it, it's up to me to find a safe place for you until the interest wanes." He turned back to his cousin. "What about Pemberley? She'd never think to look for him there." The look Darcy shot him was acidic. "Okay. Matlock, then? Father is in London and my brother won't notice a thing."

"For how long, though? I will have to do some creative thinking to dissuade her from continuing down this avenue. Wickham, sit down!" Darcy glared where the other man was standing beside the wardrobe, fingering the doorhandle suspiciously. "What do you think this is, a gothic novel? We are hardly going to hide you in there. Alright Fitzwilliam, take my carriage and Wickham and go to Matlock. Tonight. Lady Catherine will be preoccupied since there is more than enough happening here this evening. She is also pressuring me to..." He stopped.

"To what?"

"We'll discuss it later," Darcy finished in an ominous tone.

"May I say something?" the third member of their party asked. When there was no objection this time he continued. "Have I no say in this? It is my life you are so casually deciding."

"If it was up to me," growled Darcy, "you would have been on a boat to Australia long ago! Be grateful that you will be spending the next period of time in relative luxury at Matlock and not in a filthy cell in the cargo hold of a ship."

Wickham knew when he had best count his blessings, obediently following Fitzwilliam to the door when he signalled it was time to go. A quick look out into the hallway confirmed that it was safe to leave the room. Darcy led the way for them, striding casually down the carpeted length. At the junction leading to the back stairs Darcy pointed the way to Fitzwilliam who took Wickham's sleeve to ensure his continued presence. Watching until they were safely out of site Darcy then retraced his steps back to the ballroom. As he passed the room from which they had recently emerged he was surprised by Bingley approaching from the other direction.

"Ah, there you are! Were you just coming to rejoin us?" Bingley looked hopefully at his friend, a bit concerned about what might have transpired while he was locked away with his imperious relation. Darcy's affirmative reassured him. "Good. I need to get something out of the study and then we can return to the others."

Puzzled, Darcy followed his friend into the room he had lately vacated and watched as Bingley began foraging around in the desk drawers. He was unable to locate whatever he sought, however, for a moment later he straightened up, scratched his head and looked at Darcy. "Where did I put it?"

"I don't know what you are looking for." Darcy waited for him to elaborate.

"It's a.... about this big..." Bingley placed his hands several inches apart indicating the general size of the anonymous object.

"I'll help you look," Darcy sighed. "What do you want with it?" he asked, hoping this would give him some indication of what he was looking for should he accidentally find it.

"I wanted to show it to Miss Bennet," Bingley confessed with a grin. "You must think me an idiot but ......"

Darcy walked over the wardrobe and reached for the door. As he pulled it open there was a triumphant cry from behind him and he turned to see Bingley holding aloft a velvet covered jewellery case, smiling and nodding in his friend's direction.

"There, you see? I found it."

"Yes," replied Darcy, "but what on earth are you doing keeping that stuffed in your desk in here? It is jewellery, is it not? Shouldn't you have left it in a more secure place?"

"Who would take it from here?" Bingley was genuinely curious.

Reflecting that only a few moments ago the room had accommodated someone who would be very interested in whatever was contained in that case, Darcy merely shook his head and pushed the wardrobe door closed. "Are you going to simply show Miss Bennet those jewels or do you plan to present them to her as a gift?"

"Oh, what a wonderful idea! Perhaps I should wait, though. Since I have not spoken with Mr. Bennet yet then it would be a bit premature to bestow gifts upon her, don't you think?"

"Yes." The beginning of a headache was making itself known to Darcy. He wanted nothing more than to get Bingley from this room, back to the ballroom and to lose himself in Elizabeth's presence. It was not likely that he'd be able to keep up with her quick wit, judging from the pounding that was starting in his head, but just to be in her company would be enough after the rest of this evening's events.

To this end he ushered Bingley through the door, agreeing that there would be no harm in just showing the jewellery to Miss Bennet as long as she understood that once their engagement was made public then she could wear them with impunity.

The door closed behind the two gentlemen and when all had been quiet for a few moments the door of the wardrobe slowly opened outward and a small hand appeared around its edge. Elizabeth had been sure that her shaking would be detected, that the entire piece of furniture had been moving with the force of her fear. Wickham knew she had been there but to caught outright when Darcy opened it! Mr. Bingley would never know how grateful she was for calling his friend's attention from the interior of the wardrobe before Darcy could see the open mouthed horror on her face.

Still shaking, Elizabeth stepped out onto the carpeted floor of the study and quickly went to the door. She wasted no time in determining that the hall was devoid of any dangers and slipped away, far away. Once the safety of the ballroom had been reached she felt more like herself and sought a quiet corner to reflect upon all that she had heard.

Part Four

Posted on Saturday, 1 February 2003, at 10:17 p.m.

"May I help you?" Miss Bingley was just returning from seeing Lady Catherine settled into her chambers when she spied the two men, apparently lost, about to enter the back stairs. "Mr. Wickham!" she exclaimed upon recognising the taller of the two. "I thought you were not in town at present." Swallowing her misgivings Miss Bingley drew on her obligations as hostess. "The ballroom is in the other direction if you would like to follow me." She waited for the officer to introduce his friend.

Realising that Wickham had no intention of performing an introduction Fitzwilliam took it upon himself. "Colonel Fitzwilliam, Miss...."

"Miss Bingley, Colonel." Her eyes abandoned the younger officer and focussed on the new acquaintance. "My brother is giving this ball and I am his hostess. Have you just arrived?"

"Actually, we were just leaving." Colonel Fitzwilliam was loathe to admit that after taking a good look at their hostess. "I had some business with my cousin that could not wait."

"Your cousin?" Miss Bingley enquired, wondering to whose family this man belonged and what that had to do with Netherfield.

"Darcy, your brother's friend. I understood him to be staying with you." The lady's steady gaze was fascinating but did not prevent the Colonel from taking hold of Wickham's arm when he tried to step away.

Miss Bingley's astonishment equalled her pleasure at this disclosure. "Why, yes! He is indeed staying with us. May I take you to him?"

"Thank you but no, we have already spoken with him. We must now be on our way. There is a pressing matter which requires attention and a long journey ahead." Loath to stay and risk Lady Catherine's discovery, Fitzwilliam was also disappointed not to have been able to stay and learn more about Miss Bingley.

The lady was just as disappointed but in a position to do something about it, at least. "On such a cold and inhospitable night as this? Come, I shall see that you have some hot soup for the journey. That is just about to be served in the dining room so you are in perfect time!" She ushered them down the hall at a brisk pace, brooking no argument from Fitzwilliam that they had little time for detours. After sending a maid to the kitchen with orders to bring back soup in large tankards for ease of travelling, Miss Bingley directed the gentlemen to sit while awaiting the return of the servant.

"Where must you be going at such a late hour?" she enquired, not completely unaware of the impropriety of such a question. Men who travelled at night were not often on legitimate business or, at the very least, business they would wish to divulge.

"North."

"South." Fitzwilliam glared at the other man. "South. To London," he added, once more facing
the lady.

"Of course," Miss Bingley smiled. "That is where business is conducted." A sudden thought occurred to her. "This does not have anything to do with Miss Darcy, does it?" Having just settled her young friend into one of the upstairs chambers as well as Miss de Bourgh and the formidable Lady Catherine, Caroline's curiosity was thoroughly aroused.

"Nothing to worry about," the Colonel quickly and easily assured her. "It is merely a coincidence that my aunt and cousins have dropped in on you, too." Inwardly he lamented how pathetic that sounded. No rational person would believe him.

"I see," she said, quite obviously not seeing at all but now more curious than ever. Before she could frame another question, however, the maid reappeared with a tray, two steaming tankards resting on its surface. "Ah, here you are. The soup."

Each of the gentlemen took one and cautiously sipped at the hot liquid. The temperature was not prohibitive and so they thankfully drank down the contents while Miss Bingley kept them company.

"Are you not having any soup, Miss Bingley?" Mr. Wickham asked at last.

She smiled benevolently. "I shall have mine when I rejoin the guests in the ballroom."

"In that case," the Colonel said in all earnestness, "do not allow your duties as hostess to prevent you from partaking of a bowl. It is quite excellent!" He drained the last from his mug and looked at his companion. "I regret that we must now leave, however."

As the two men rose from their seats Miss Bingley was quicker to her feet, putting out an arm while trying to think of what she could say to convince them to remain. It was to no avail, however. Colonel Fitzwilliam knew his duty and, if fear of Darcy's wrath at his dalliance wasn't enough, dread of Lady Catherine's gratitude for delivering Wickham certainly would be. The gentlemen expressed their thanks again and followed a footman who had been directed by Miss Bingley to show them to their carriage.

Alone again, Caroline was reminded of her own obligations. She hurried toward the dining room to see if her guests were seated for the buffet. Fortunately, the servants were just finishing laying out the table and people were only now entering the room to find their places. Miss Bingley quickly located her brother, grimaced upon seeing Jane Bennet by his side, then set her eyes to searching for Darcy. Another grimace when she beheld that horrid little clergyman had him trapped against a wall near the door, Darcy's steadfast gaze over his head indicating disinterest with whatever the other man had to say. Determined to rescue her favourite guest from such a dreadful situation, Caroline began to make her way toward them when she was stopped by none other than Mrs. Bennet, that lady expressing her appreciation for the evening's event and crowing about the beauty of her daughters, the eldest particularly. Miss Bingley had no choice but to listen and watch helplessly as that woman's second daughter now joined the very gentleman she was thwarted from rescuing.

"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said with a curtsey before turning to her cousin. "Mr. Collins, I am happy to have found you so quickly in this crowded room. I am assured that your noble patroness, Lady Catherine, is satisfactorily settled in rooms above us but -."

"She has need of my comforting words!" Mr. Collins hurriedly interrupted. "Of course. I shall go to her immediately." With a parting flowery expression he scuttled away through the crowd. Darcy and Elizabeth had barely blinked before he was gone.

"Miss Bennet," Darcy finally coaxed his voice to say. "May I assist you in finding a place for dinner?"

Still confused by all she had heard earlier, Elizabeth merely nodded her assent and thanked him for the offer. Mutely, she followed him to a table where Mr. Bingley and Jane were already seated. Happiness for the recent event that had brought such a glow to her sister's face pushed aside the worst of the bewilderment Elizabeth felt with what she had learned about Mr. Wickham, Mr. Darcy and the third mysterious gentleman. All that she knew of this man was that he came from Matlock, was called Fitzwilliam and that he and Darcy shared an aunt. They also apparently shared a dislike of Wickham. After hearing of an attempted elopement with the quiet Miss Darcy, Elizabeth was not disinclined to agree with the gentlemen's opinion. A wealth of information had been revealed to her but there was still plenty more left unsaid. Curiosity was not unknown to Elizabeth Bennet and in this case it was fully engaged.

With a genuine smile for Jane and Mr. Bingley, Elizabeth sat down in the chair which Darcy pulled out for her. He then seated himself beside her, his attention for none other. She felt his eyes upon her and turned to face him. "Mr. Darcy," she began. His gaze never wavered yet she could see an invitation for her to continue. "I'm uncertain as to whether you realised that I heard what was said between yourself and your aunt in the library. Please let me reassure you that the information will go no further."

"I never doubted your secrecy, Miss Bennet." A hint of sadness accompanied his words. "I was not unaware of your presence at the time. As you may imagine we have all had a difficult time but Georgiana most of all. She remains convinced that she has disappointed me and is determined to blame herself completely for the entire incident with Mr. Wickham. My sister will offer no resistence to Lady Catherine's proposal to take her to Rosings for she will see it as an opportunity to relieve me of the burden of her care."

"Oh, the poor dear girl!" Elizabeth was equally certain that Darcy blamed himself for the entire affair, as well.

"I will never relinquish Georgiana into Lady Catherine's supervision. I only wish that my young sister would realise that she is not to blame in the least. Trust alone was her undoing. She trusted an old family friend." Darcy shook his head with a sigh.

Elizabeth placed her hand on his sleeve. "She is young, of course."

"Indeed," he agreed with a wry smile. "That excuse will not explain my own failure to protect her, however."

"What failure?" Elizabeth objected. Until now their voices had been subdued but her outburst drew some curious glances. She continued in a quieter tone. "The plan was thwarted. Miss Darcy and her reputation are unharmed. I see nothing but success in your efforts."

"Success in one respect. Yes, my sister is safe but she is not happy." Darcy drew himself up straighter in his chair. "I will do everything in my power to see her happy again."

Elizabeth recalled the final words heard from his aunt as the two had left the library. There was no question but that Lady Catherine intended for her daughter to marry her nephew. If the relationship between Darcy and his sister was strained there was, as his aunt had said, a good number of possible benefits should he marry and his wife provide a role model for Miss Darcy. Did he recognise the advantage, however? Elizabeth was hardly an adequate judge of Miss de Bourgh's suitability for this role nor was she particularly eager to explore this avenue, to her own surprise. That the young Miss Darcy was in need of female guidance was a foregone conclusion. Her brother was admittedly dedicated to seeing his sister happy no matter what it took for him to accomplish this. What were Miss Darcy's feelings regarding any potential marriage for her brother?

Why is this of any concern to me? Elizabeth wondered with some anxiety. I don't even like the man. Do I? Self doubt plagued her. There was every reason to refuse to accept any warm feelings that were threatening to envelope her. Mr. Darcy had insulted her from the first moment she had heard him speak. She owed him nothing; no leniency, no forbearance and certainly no forgiveness. Yet there was something that compelled Elizabeth to push aside these negative thoughts and recall his tender words, his expression, not so long ago in the library.

"I have no brothers but you appear to be an ideal one," she softly said. "I'm sure that, in time, your sister will come to realise that what really matters is the strength one finds in family; that of loving and being loved in return."

Darcy looked at her with a serious expression. Her suggestion fascinated him and made her even more alluring than ever. "I could not agree more, Miss Bennet. I shall accept your confidence in Georgiana's future happiness with gratitude for attempting to lift the weight of responsibility from my shoulders."

A twinkle appeared in her eyes. "Oh, the responsibility will remain all yours, Mr. Darcy. If it seems lighter to you then by all means attribute it to myself." Elizabeth was pleased to see a smile break the sombre cast of his features. At the risk of seeing it disappear she dared to touch on his aunt's suggestion. "Is there no other female relation from whom your sister could benefit?"

Darcy pondered the thought. He was not about to make suggestions that implied any promises on his part. That would be too cruel and irresponsible. If there was one thing Fitzwilliam Darcy took seriously, it was his responsibilities. He was suddenly reminded of his host's recent good fortune. "I am afraid that is not possible. However, in light of Bingley's plans I foresee the opportunity to provide Georgiana with very suitable companionship." This reference to her sister's character warmed Elizabeth. She could not have realised that Darcy was more hopeful of his sister's increased exposure to Elizabeth rather than Jane.

The conversation was necessarily put to an end as bowls of soup were placed before them. Although they could not talk, Elizabeth and Darcy could entertain their own thoughts and for the most part, they were quite pleasant. This preoccupation, however, prevented them from noticing the entrance of Miss Darcy at the far end of the dining room.

Part 5

Posted on Wednesday, 19 February 2003, at 9:16 p.m.

Unable to endure more than an hour of her aunt's incessant lectures regarding propriety and familial duties, Georgiana Darcy had found escape in pleading a headache and requiring rest in her own chamber. Once there, she called upon Miss Bingley's maid to find her something suitable to wear so that she may venture downstairs and search out the comfort of her brother's presence. Despite her misgivings where his approval was concerned, she always derived reassurance when she was with him. The last few weeks had not been easy, while Darcy resided in Hertfordshire with his friend and Georgiana brooded about how she had displeased him. The wounds were too fresh for her to consider his forgiveness at all possible. She felt she had betrayed him, the brother who was more like a father, and for that she could not forgive herself.

Upon entering the room she immediately noticed that there were far more people than she had realised. In truth, she hadn't considered the others, focussed only upon rejoining her brother and avoiding their aunt. Georgiana was now faced with a roomful of strangers which was more than enough to stop her in her tracks. While she hovered in the doorway she was nearly bowled over by another young lady making her own entrance.

"Oh, I am sorry," Georgiana quickly, though quietly, began.

The other girl giggled. "I'm the one who should have been watching where I was going. Why are you apologising?" She looked Georgiana over critically. "I don't know you but... didn't you come in with that old lady a little while ago?" Georgiana was too shocked to reply. "Yes, that's where I saw you! Oh, don't worry. I won't tattle on you. She looks a right misery. I hope she's not your mother." She giggled again before sticking out her hand. "I'm Lydia Bennet, by the way."

Georgiana took the offered hand carefully. "Georgiana Darcy. I am pleased to meet you, Miss Bennet."

An unhealthy sound emanated from the other girl which Georgiana belatedly realised was a laugh. "Please! My sister is 'Miss Bennet'. Just call me Lydia. Wait a minute! Did you say Darcy? You aren't a sister to the Mr. Darcy?"

Shaking her head in some confusion, Georgiana confirmed Lydia's conclusion. "Yes, my brother is staying with Mr. Bingley. Am I to understand that you have made his acquaintance?"

"Not exactly," Lydia said with another of those strange laughs. "Practically nobody in Meryton has made his acquaintance although Mr. Bingley has been quite popular." She gave her new friend a wink. "That's my sister, Miss Bennet, sitting with him over there." She pointed across the room.

Georgiana's gaze followed the indicated direction where she was surprised, though relieved, to see her brother seated at the same table. "Your sister is beside Mr. Bingley? Who, may I ask, is the lady beside her?"

"Oh, that's my other sister, Elizabeth." Lydia looked more closely. "Whatever is she doing next to Mr. Darcy?"

That was exactly what Georgiana wanted to know. Fitzwilliam appeared to be genuinely interested in the young lady's conversation. Although Georgiana had rarely seen her brother in company, and only in the comforts of their own homes, he had never appeared interested in any particular lady's conversation. "I wonder what they are talking about?" she mused.

Lydia looked at her new friend with a bemused frown. "I cannot imagine but there is only one way to find out." She reached for Georgiana's hand and began to pull her forward.

"Oh, no!" she whispered sharply, pulling her hand free with not a little struggle. Her eyes were wide. "I couldn't. I mean, we shouldn't."

Shrugging her shoulders, Lydia dismissed the whole idea. "Whatever you wish. At least come and sit with me while we eat. I am so hungry! Look," she said, pointing at a table quite a distance from her elder sisters. "Denny and Saunderson are over there. We can sit with them."

Georgiana allowed herself to be led to the table of young officers. The young Miss Bennet greeted them all enthusiastically and the young men were equally brash, although their exuberance took on a more respectful tone when they beheld Miss Darcy. A few of them exchanged knowing glances upon introduction. The young ladies had arrived just as the soup bowls were being filled. Georgiana, who had been too unnerved to partake of the servings Miss Bingley had arranged to be sent to their rooms, was now grateful to see the hot food. It excused her from having to participate in the conversation at the table without being rude, for one could hardly speak while eating. She was dismayed to see, however, that this rule of etiquette was not strictly adhered to by her dinner companions. The choice of seating herself with her new acquaintance gave Georgiana the advantage of being able to observe her brother without him observing her. That he was unaware of his sister's presence was also a distinct advantage. She did not wish to give him cause for any further embarrassment. The company with whom she now found herself would certainly do that, she knew. However long she could remain undiscovered was to be seen. The young Miss Bennet and her friends were not above calling attention to themselves with their boisterous manners. Georgiana kept one eye on Darcy while attempting to appear interested in the chatter of her immediate party. Interest was not difficult to achieve when her brother became the main topic.

"Did you see the look on old lady Lucas's face when Darcy took to the floor with Miss Elizabeth?" Georgiana nearly dropped her spoon in surprise while the young officer continued. "I can well understand him choosing her over that prim and dull Miss Lucas, however better suited she is to his sour disposition. Ow!"

Denny sent the other man a pointed glare to accompany the kick under the table. "I'd say you're a bit jealous, lad."

"And who wouldn't be, I ask you?" another officer interjected. "Miss Elizabeth is delightful company and I'm sure I'm not the only one put out about him usurping a place on her card."

Lydia laughed, loudly. "I would gladly dance with you if it is such a travesty. As a matter of fact, I'd dance with Mr. Darcy if he'd offer." A giggle accompanied this last comment.

Georgiana did not need any time to think about the probability of that happening. She could well imagine her brother's grimace of distaste at the mere thought. That set her to wondering anew about this Elizabeth Bennet and how she had managed to garner Darcy's attention. How could a sister to the wild Lydia have attracted her own fastidious brother? She could not recall any particular lady inspiring his interest. Her gaze returned to the table across the room. Georgiana's practised eye detected the smile that he rarely allowed to show and that others even more rarely recognised.

"Whatever can they find to be talking about?" Lydia's voice was in her friend's ear. Georgiana quickly looked back to her companion. The other girl had a face that bespoke her confusion.

"Books?" The confusion changed to disgust and Georgiana quickly added, "Or perhaps music! My brother enjoys both. Does your sister like either?"

Lydia appeared to think about that for a moment. "I think she reads. I'm sure I've seen her with a book now and again. I know that Mary does, but she only has eyes for Fordyce's Sermons. I'm sure your brother wouldn't be discussing those!" She gave a snort as she poked an elbow in Georgiana's side.

"No," she admitted somewhat hesitantly. "You are probably right." Recalling the earlier remark about Darcy dancing with Miss Elizabeth, Georgiana made another suggestion. "They may be continuing with a topic begun on the dance floor, though."

Lydia was doubtful. "Such a serious and solemn dance it was, I'm sure no subject could have survived such a dull life. Although... immediately afterward Lizzy was positively surrounded by beaux. I don't know why my sister attracts all of the good young men while the rest of us have to suffer the likes of our cousin, Mr. Collins," she pouted. Georgiana, embarrassed for the young officers who must have felt offended with her slight, looked down at her plate.

"Oh, it's no mystery, Lydia," smiled Denny.

Lydia laughed. "But what would I want with the good young men, anyway?" Several pairs of eyebrows rose simultaneously. Lydia's hand flew to cover her mouth. Her eyes grew wide and then she laughed again. "You are such a bad influence on my poor impressionable mind, Denny." She turned to Georgiana. "I heard my Papa say that to Sir William one evening."

Eyes round with astonishment, Georgiana had no idea how to respond. Had Darcy believed anyone to be an undesirable influence upon her, he would have promptly had that person dismissed and ensured that no repetition of contact occurred. She did not think her brother severe or overprotective, however. Instead, Georgiana was grateful for his steadfast guardianship. Another glance in Darcy's direction confirmed his pleasure with the company he was keeping at present. His sister was now even more determined to discover the true nature of Elizabeth Bennet. If she was remotely like her young sister, Lydia, Georgiana had some grave doubts for her brother's sense. Despite his strong performance before their aunt, she harboured some fears that he had fallen victim to the charms of a pretty face. Was not every man allowed to deviate from the steady path of his life at one time or another? This might simply be a diversion but if Elizabeth was not as sincere in the return of his regard Miss Darcy would do her best to make sure that the detour was temporary. To this end she prepared to uncover more information from a close, and hopefully reliable, source. While contemplating discreet questions, she finished the last of her soup. A lively exchange between Lydia and two of the young men prevented any interruption with probing questions. Georgiana patiently waited until a suitable moment before forging ahead.

"Is your entire family here this evening, Miss ... Lydia?" she faltered, recalling at the last moment the request to call her new friend by her Christian name.

"Yes," Lydia nodded. "Even our cousin, Mr. Collins." Her face registered her feelings about this member of the family party. "Jane is fortunate to have been claimed by Mr. Bingley. Mama made sure to tell him that so I think Lizzy will have to marry Mr. Collins." Georgiana's attention was fully claimed with this disclosure. "I have never been so happy to be the youngest!" Once again she giggled, to Georgiana's growing annoyance.

"Lizzy is the one seated with my brother, you said?"

"Yes, and I can't think why." Lydia leaned forward, arms crossed and resting on the table. It was a most unladylike pose and only served to display her charms for all of the young officers at their table. "Is he always so dull?"

Georgiana was quite taken aback by this question. "Dull?"

"Yes, dull!" Lydia repeated. "Skulking about, not saying a word. I daresay you must be familiar with his behaviour. Does he stare out the windows a lot at home?"

Becoming more confused with the other girl's every sentence, Georgiana attempted to recall from memory if her brother had spent a lot of time peering out of the windows. This activity was not one she could remember, however, but added it to the list of things to question Darcy about. "That is not something I have noticed, no. Is the view here particularly picturesque?"

Unfortunately Lydia did not possess the intellect required to realise a polite response would be the discreet thing to do at this moment. Consequently, a loud snort prefaced her reply. "Not when it's dark."

Low chuckles rumbled from the officers beside them. Denny spoke up. "He seems to have found one view appealing this evening." He tilted his head to direct the others' gazes to where Darcy was still seated with Elizabeth. "She doesn't seem to mind, either."

"Well," huffed Lydia. "I shall not let her get away with such treachery! How could she cast dear Wickham aside just like that?" Georgiana gave a start at the mention of that name. "I'm sure when I tell him what little concern she showed for his absence tonight he will be suitably offended and bestow his attentions upon me, instead." Lydia seemed to think this quite amusing and her laughter began to draw looks from people throughout the room.

Georgiana was anxious lest her brother should also glance over and see the company she was keeping. The mention of Wickham was most unsettling. She now had a clue as to why Darcy may have been spending a great deal of time staring out at the countryside rather than engaging others in conversation. George Wickham had an unnerving habit of materialising when one least expected him. That is what happened at Ramsgate earlier in the summer. Georgiana felt her colour rise at the mere thought of that mortifying episode in her life. For a moment she considered the silly girl beside her and realised that Wickham might very well have set his sights in her direction. If not Lydia then perhaps one of her sisters. That must be why Fitzwilliam is lavishing attention upon Miss Elizabeth! He is trying to protect her and her family from George's clutches! Her heart warmed to think of him in such a noble light. To Georgiana there was now no question of her brother's intentions. She knew him to be the epitome of all that was good and honourable. Feeling much better about the situation she signalled one of the attending servants to bring more soup.

Continued in the next section