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The Tragedy Of A Woman:

Volume Two.

Chapter XII.

The next morning Elizabeth received the letter from Jane which she had been waiting for. The maid delivered it to her, along with another, also from Jane, just as Elizabeth was leaving with the Gardiners to visit the church. She instantly begged leave of her Aunt and Uncle and stayed behind to read them.

The first letter had been misdirected, which seemed to explain the delay. It ran thus:

 

Dear Lizzy,

I am most glad to hear that Derbyshire suits your tastes so well. As to us, we are all fine at the present, however, our nieces and nephews do tend to try poor Mama's nerves. Charles and I take charge of them as often as we can. Charles and I! It looks so strange and yet feels so right to see and write those words to you.............

The first page of the letter remained much the same as Jane dispensed all the delights of her marriage to her sister. The second page however, was dated more recently than the first and matched the hurried handwriting of the direction:

 

Since writing the last, something has happened of the most unexpected and serious nature. However, I am afraid of alarming you; be assured that we are all well. What I have to say concerns Lydia..................

"Lydia?" Elizabeth uttered aloud in surprise. What on earth could be the matter with Lydia? Her surprise grew as she continued to read, changing to shock and then sorrow and grief. Lydia had eloped with Wickham! Lizzy could not believe it. Lydia had nothing, nothing at all in the way of money that could possibly attract Mr Wickham, given his past history.

What possible reason could he have to run away with Lydia? Elizabeth know not what to make of it. Hurriedly she opened the second letter, hoping for something better. It was not to be. They had been traced as far as London, but that was all. Their father had gone to town to inquire further and Jane begged Elizabeth to let their Uncle know in order to further assist.

"Of course," Lizzy cried out stumbling to her feet. "Where is my Uncle?" She ran to the door, just as the maid opened it to reveal.......... Mr Darcy!

Darcy noticed instantly her distress. Stepping forward he began. "Miss Bennet, I hope......"

"Forgive me, Mr Darcy, pray excuse me, I must find my Uncle at once. On business that cannot be delayed, I have not an instant to loose."

"Good god, what is the matter?" Darcy cried, concerned. He looked at her carefully and saw she was in no fit state to fetch anyone at the moment. "Of course you need your Uncle, but let me go, or let the servant go. You are not well, you cannot go yourself."

"No I must........"

"Come, I insist." Darcy turned and called back the servant who Elizabeth commanded to fetch Mr and Mrs Gardiner back to the Inn at once. Once she had departed, Darcy looked back at Elizabeth. She seemed to be loosing the battle to hold back her grief. Silently he took her into his arms.

It was with great shock that Elizabeth found herself to be in Darcy's arms. Forgetting her resolve, and too focused on Lydia, she let him comfort her as the grief overwhelmed.

It seemed like an eternity as they stood there. Then Darcy drew back a little to ask what had happened. Slowly Elizabeth broke away, knowing that when he learned of the news he would think himself lucky to have escaped them.

"My youngest sister has left all her friends, has eloped. Has thrown herself into the power of Mr Wickham."

Darcy's face darkened instantly.

"They left together on Sunday night. They were traced as far as London but not beyond. You know him too well to doubt the rest. She as no money, no connections, nothing that can tempt him."

Darcy could only stare at her. After a long pause he formed his resolution and asked, "what has been done, what has been attempted to recover them?"

"My father has gone to London and Jane writes to beg my Uncle to follow. But I know all too well that nothing can be done. How is such a man to be worked upon, how is such a thing even to be attempted. I do not know what to hope for. She is lost forever."

During this conversation Darcy had moved to window and now in the far corner of it, a carriage began to appear. Realising quickly that the Gardiners would soon arrive, he turned round and began with, "I know you have been long desiring my absence, and nothing but a concern for your well being would make me stay. I fear that this event will prevent my sister from seeing you at Pemberley today."

"Yes, please tell Miss Darcy that urgent business call us away. I would rather this went no further than it already has."

"You may be assured of my secrecy. But I have stayed too long. I shall leave you now." Darcy's voice choked on the last words. He did not mean to sound so distant and cruel. However go he must and soon, if he was to make London in time. With one last look shared between them, he reluctantly left.

The moment he went Elizabeth found herself weeping again. She knew now that she had lost him forever. Even if Wickham and Lydia were found, he would never allow himself to be brother in law to a man he hated absolutely.

Before she could dwell upon this any further, Mr and Mrs Gardiner came in looking gravely concerned. Elizabeth quickly explained the matter to them and her uncle promised his immediate assistance. Elizabeth had expected no less and thanked him eagerly. She was wild to be at home, to see Jane, to see her mother, to see Mary and Kitty, to try and alleviate the grief in any way she could.

"However," Mr Gardiner began as their luggage was loaded upon the carriage, "I believe that the situation may not be as bad as we presume it to be. It appears to me very unlikely that any young man should form such a design against a girl who is by no means unprotected or friendless, and is actually staying with Colonel's family. Do you really believe Wickham to be capable of it, Lizzy?"

"Not perhaps of neglecting his own interest, but of every other neglect I can believe him capable. Wickham will never marry a woman without some money. He cannot afford it. What claims does Lydia have, beyond spirit and beauty and youth? No, I am still prepared for the worse, Uncle."

"But surely Lydia will not consent to such a thing?" Aunt Gardiner asked.

"Ever since the Militia arrived at Meryton, there was nothing but love, flirtation and officers in her head! And all Wickham has to do is pretend they are to marry as soon as his debts are settled. He will delay as much as he can." Elizabeth paused as she stepped inside the carriage. She waited until they were all seated when she began again. "If I had perhaps warned her before she left."

"Would that have helped though?" Mrs Gardiner asked.

"No, I suppose not. Lydia would have not paid heed. But then I never expected this to happen."

Elizabeth lapsed into silence then as did the rest of the occupants of the carriage. They were silent the entire journey, all thoughts of Hertfordshire.

Despite having ridden one of the fastest stallions of the estate, Darcy brought back a worn out horse to the stables of Pemberley. He barely paid attention to the stable lad that came out to take the horse away as he ran around the corner to go inside the house, no visitors heeding his progress this time.

"Georgiana!" He called out the minute he entered the hallway. "Georgiana!"

"Yes, William, what is it?" She asked, appearing behind him and making him jump. He turned to her and began his first set of lies. No one must know.

"I have to go to town on an important matter of business," he began gently. "Will you make my excuses to everyone?"

"You of course. It's nothing bad, is it?"

"No, at least I do not think so. I should be no more than a week or so."

Georgiana was most comforted by those words. "What about Miss Bennet and the Gardiners? Are they not invited for dinner tonight?"

"I have just seen them and it turns out that they also need to return home to Hertfordshire. Will you inform Mrs Reynolds? I will not have the time."

"Of course Fitzwilliam. Oh, er, Caroline wants to see you."

"Caroline? Whatever for?" Darcy asked puzzled.

"I do not know. She just wants to see you. She sounded quite angry though."

"Where is she?"

"In the Music Room."

"Thank you Georgiana I'll see you soon." Grimacing, Darcy released his sister and taking a deep breath, went to the music room to speak with his wife.

Caroline was fuming. She had expected her husband to adhere to the promise that he had made to her at Netherfield last night. Instead he had gone out early without a word to any one, except his valet who Caroline was not prepared to even ask. Now she stood waiting for him to appear.

As Darcy opened the door to the music room, he received such a look of anger that if it had the ability to kill, he would have died on the spot. "You wanted to see me, Madam?"

"And that is all you have to say for yourself?" Caroline stated venomously.

"What else do I need to say?"

"An explanation would be nice, it is my due!"

"I apologise, Madam, but I believe the explanation is needed from you."

"I?" Caroline shot arrogantly back. "I have no need to explain myself."

"Indeed you do, Madam," Darcy remarked calmly back. The longer he kept calm the shorter this conversation would be.

"Will you stop calling me that!" Caroline yelled, now thoroughly annoyed. "How dare you!"

"How dare I what?" Darcy replied, refraining from 'madam'.

"You made a promise to me at Netherfield. You promised we would make our marriage true."

"I did not promise anything of the kind."

"You have not visited me at night once! Why?"

Darcy wisely refrained from voicing his true reason. "I do not need to explain my actions to you."

"I am left," Caroline continued, as if Darcy had never spoken, "to assume only one thing. That you have someone else who answers to those needs."

"On the contrary, Madam, there are two things you can conclude. I could have taken a vow of celibacy."

"I know what men are like!" Caroline yelled back, turning away briefly to pace the floor. "And I know for a fact that you have a mistress!"

At this point Darcy visibly relaxed a little, strangely thankful now for what happened at Hunsford. "A mistress? That's absurd, Caroline, where did you get that from?"

"Servants are useful little things," Caroline began in a smug voice as Darcy began to wonder if any of them could hear this right now. "When they think," Caroline continued, still smug, "that you cannot hear them, they reveal a lot of secrets about the master they supposedly adore."

Silently Darcy wondered if Caroline had ever heard any of the things that he knew the servants had said about her. "Your point, Caroline? If indeed you are coming to one."

"A few weeks ago, they casually mentioned that the Kympton Parsonage, after being vacant for a month, is now occupied by a single lady, if indeed I should call her that." Caroline looked triumphant. "Explain that, sir!"

"I was helping out a homeless woman while I was still searching for a priest for the place," Darcy replied. It was a practised lie, which he had used all the time Elizabeth was there. He did it without a change of composure, fooling Caroline completely. She lost her smug face for a moment, trying to regain ground. Then she took a risk. "I know you have a mistress, sir. I found out when you had the nerve to flaunt her in front of me!"

"When did I do that?"

"Last night. I saw your look at Elizabeth Bennet. And I remember well meeting her at that ball almost a year ago. She is your mistress, is she not?"

"No," Darcy began, keeping his face totally in check. "Miss Bennet is not my mistress." At least not now anyway.

"Ah, but you do not deny that you have one!"

"Did I say that I did?"

"No, but you implied it. Why else were you out of the house this morning?"

"To see Miss Bennet, to cancel tonight's dinner plans."

"Good!" Caroline shrieked before asking why.

"Because I have an urgent matter of business to attend to in London." With that Darcy prepared to leave, for it he did not do so soon, he would reveal everything.

"And what business is that?!"

"My divorce. Good day Caroline." And with that Darcy glanced briefly at the room remembering delights of the night before, which had been tarnished by this morning's argument. Then he quietly walked out, leaving a fuming Caroline behind.

Chapter XIII.

"Lizzy!"

Elizabeth embraced her sister as son as she got out of the carriage. Jane Bingley was smiling but the fears for Lydia showed as clear as day and her relief that Elizabeth had returned was also evident.

The party went to see Mrs Bennet, who had shut herself in her room ever since she had heard of Lydia's elopement. Her grief was inconsolable, as she blamed everybody but the person whose indulgence of her daughter led to the errors in the first place.

"If I," she began when all had seated, Mr Gardiner taking her hand in brotherly support, "had been able to persuade your father to take us all to Brighton, this would not have happened I am sure! But all is lost now. Mr Bennet is gone away and I know he will fight Wickham and them he will be killed and then what is to become of us all? The Collinses will turn us out on to the streets!" With this she collapsed back into her chair, waving a handkerchief to try and calm herself.

Mr Gardiner instantly assured her of his plans to go to town, turning Mrs Bennet's speeches into happiness and instructions to forward to Lydia about wedding clothes, to keep Mr Bennet away from fighting and to let Lydia have as much money as she chuses.

Afterwards, Mr Gardiner departed for town, leaving Mrs Gardiner to travel with the children after a few days, as her presence would be beneficial to her nieces and distract their mother from calling them every hour upon the hour, giving Jane a well needed break.

Jane and Lizzy retired to the drawing room where Elizabeth asked, "now, Jane, tell me everything about it that I have not already heard. What did Colonel Forster say? Have they no apprehension of anything before the elopement took place?"

"Colonel Forster did own that he often suspected some partiality on Lydia's side, but nothing to give him any alarm. Oh, Lizzy, I feel I am to blame. If I was not married I would have helped you to persuade father to prevent Lydia going."

"No, Jane, you are not to blame. No one could foresee this coming, not even those who saw through his charm. Others are culpable, not you." Elizabeth looked at her sister kindly. "Where's Charles?" She suddenly remembered to ask.

"He is at Netherfield, but he returns every day for dinner here and to take me back. He is concerned not only about Lydia, but about me as well."

"About you?" Elizabeth queried, worried instantly.

"Do not be afraid, I am well in mind and body. Yet I feel so guilty for being so, for being in this condition while Lydia is where ever she is."

Elizabeth looked puzzled at first, but then she realised what her sister was implying. "Oh Jane, I could not be more happy for you!" She replied, embracing her. "Have you told mama?"

"No, I dare not, not until Lydia is safe." Jane reached into her pocket and brought out an opened letter. "Lydia wrote this for Mrs Forster before she went away."

Elizabeth took the letter and opened it. It read;

My dear Harriet,

You will laugh when you know where I am gone, and I cannot help laughing myself at your surprise tomorrow morning, as soon as I am missed. I am going to Gretna Green, and if you cannot guess with whom, I shall think you a simpleton, for there is but one man in the world I love. You need not send word to Longbourn of my going, for it will make the surprise all the more greater when I write to them and sign my name Lydia Wickham! What a good joke it will be! I can scarce write for laughing!

She trailed off then on to the forthcoming ball to which Lizzy paid no mind to. "Thoughtless, thoughtless Lydia! What a letter to have written at such a moment. But at least it shows she believed Wickam's purpose was marriage whatever he might have persuaded her to otherwise. Oh my poor father. How must he have felt it!"

"I never saw a man so shocked. He could not speak a word for a full ten minutes. Our mother was taken ill immediately and the whole house was in uproar."

 

Dear Mr Huntingdon,

I remember with great pleasure our little meetings some two years ago, and I was most pleased to receive your avowed assurance that those feelings you expressed still remain the same. I would be most honoured to receive you at this address as soon as you feel able to do so. I understand perfectly your reluctance to commit to this affair but let me assure you that my husband is determined to be rid of me as soon as he can possibly arrange it so. We lead completely separate lives.

I hope to either receive a reply to this or see you in the flesh soon.

Yours always,
Caroline Darcy.

In a large house on Grosvenor street, Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy stood staring out one of the library windows, reviewing the events of the past few days.

It had taken surprising ease to find Mr Wickham. He had been staying free of charge exactly where Darcy had suspected, at the cheap London Inn of another of his ex-employee's, Mrs Younge, once governess of Georgiana, the woman who had taken her to Ramsgate. Mrs Younge had been watched by two of his most trustworthy servants, ever since he arrived in London and it had only taken a couple of days for Wickham to be seen.

Darcy had then gone to the house himself, taking over the watch of one of his servants and, having spied Lydia Bennet at the window, went to speak with Mr Wickham. Mrs Younge was rather reluctant at first to reveal the location of her partner in crime, and even though Darcy knew he was there, he did not hesitate from parting with a sum of money to keep her silence and compliance. He spoke with Wickham and Lydia briefly and then arranged to call on them the next morning, leaving the servants to make sure they did not skip town during the night.

The next morning along with Colonel Fitzwilliam, Darcy duly went to start the negotiations. He spoke with Wickham first, relaying to him the realities of his situation and the limits of his expectations. It goes without saying that Wickham wanted more than Darcy was willing to give him; nor is unwarranted to suppose that he took the opportunity to 'casually' bring Kympton into the conversation whenever he could. Darcy however, was willing only to give Wickham some of the former and completely ignored every mention of the latter.

Finally, the amount which was settled upon was just two thousand pounds straight up, together with another thousand to be settled on Lydia, his debts to be cleared and a commission in the Newcastle regiment. With that business taken care of, Darcy went to relieve his cousin whose watch on Lydia was proving tiresome.

Lydia was somewhat an easier matter to tackle than Mr Wickham. As much as he had been determined to not marry her was she certain in her union with him. Having spent an hour talking to Darcy's cousin about the delights of marriage, she had spent another talking to Darcy of the same.

Having determined by this that conversation with Lydia was useless, Darcy politely took his leave of her and along with Colonel Fitzwilliam, returned to Grosvenor street, to consult with his lawyer. He then called on Mr Gardiner at Gracechruch street, but received no reply. Only Mr Bennet was there. Wishing to discuss the events of the day with someone he had more than a passing acquaintance with, Darcy declined to leave his name and called the next day.

Mr Gardiner was most surprised to learn of Darcy's involvement in the affair and was at first reluctant to let him carry out any part of his plans. But by then Darcy was adamant in taking responsibility for the whole business. He felt responsible, as he explained to Mr Gardiner, for concealing Mr Wickam's true character from the world, concerned as he was for Georgianna's reputation. Mr Gardiner was thus forced to concede.

The lawyers were called for, to begin drafting the contracts to sign, when Darcy revealed his final stipulation. That was for Mr Gardiner to take all of the public responsibility for the whole affair. To this Mr Gardiner protested the most and if it were not for Darcy's stubbornness, he would have not accepted this part as well.

The reason for concealment on Darcy's side were none that he dared admit publicly, but they mattered. Although Elizabeth had told him that she loved him, he did not want her to feel obliged to marry him when he went to ask her again after his divorce. If she did not know of this, their situations would be equal and she would choose for affection above obligation.

The couple were then separated the next day, Lydia to the Gardiners, Mr Wickham to Darcy's, where the Colonel was to keep a watchful eye on him until his cousin had returned from the country for the wedding.

He had often thought of home while in London, where almost every instant seemed to remind him of the argument he had had with Caroline the day he had left. As yet he was unable to decide whether or not he regretted revealing the divorce earlier than planned, but it was done now and could not be undone. He wondered about what she was doing, for the first time in their marriage. This return would be a chance to find out.

"Sir?" His lawyer called him to attention.

Darcy turned round to face him.

"Are you ready to sign, Sir?"

"Yes," he replied, sitting down and taking the quill. Rapidly he signed his name. The deed was done.

He rose early the next morning and readied himself for travelling to Pemberley. He checked on Colonel Fitzwilliam before he left.

"Are you sure its wise to return?" Fitzwilliam asked, for Darcy had told him everything about it some days ago.

"If I was able to think twice about it, no," Darcy replied. "But there is little I can do here. And Georgiana will need a break."

"Ah dear Georgiana," Wickham remarked, bringing his presence to their attention. "How is she?"

Darcy and the Colonel ignored him. "Have you told her about this?"

"No, how can I? I will eventually, just not yet."

"Sir? The carriage is ready."

"Thank you, Etates. Now, Rich, any letter that comes, will you open them and check what they contain before putting them on the appropriate piles in my study? If any come from Pemberley, don't bother to send them on. I'll deal with them when I get there."

"Of course, Darce."

"Good luck," Wickham commented with a laugh. "You'll need it."

Darcy again ignored him and shook his cousin's hand before going to his carriage outside. With last glance at the window of Wickam's 'prison' as he got in, Darcy left London.

Colonel Fitzwilliam turned away from the window and let one of the footmen take over his watch before heading out towards a guest room. He was about to catch some sleep when a commotion at the door brought his attention. There was a courier at the door with an express for Mr Darcy. Fitzwilliam rushed forward to take care of it and walked into the library to read it.

It was from Pemberley, by the hand of Mrs Reynolds and a hurried one at that. It ran thus;

Dear Sir,

I regret that it is my duty to inform you that...........

Chapter XIV.

As Elizabeth feared, news of Lydia's ruin was soon made public. Meryton was quick to disown the man who previously every one had adored. Wickham was pronounced to be the worst of men, to have run up debts with every trader, and to have meddled with every tradesman's daughter.

Everyday they waited for a letter from their father and none came. Finally, a letter from their uncle revealed that he was to come home on Saturday, an event which caused Mrs Bennet to despair that he would not be there to fight Wickham.

It was typical English weather when Mr Bennet returned to Longbourn as the rain welcomed him back to his home. His two eldest daughters greeted him as soon as he was inside, and for once he did not welcome their presence. "Not now, Jane," he said rather abruptly, delivering the same to Elizabeth a moment later as he went and shut himself in his library.

It was not until the evening that he emerged, just as Elizabeth and Kitty had despaired of ever seeing him for the rest of the day. Jane had gone home to Netherfield with Mr Bingley and Kitty had taken over her duties with her sister, although Elizabeth tended to command the whole. She was of the feeling that she had neglected her family of late, due to her visits to Hunsford and Derbyshire. She felt most wretched about it and so devoted herself wholly to the task of making Kitty and Mary's lives easier by taking her share of the duties once more.

The tea had just come in and Kitty volunteered to take some to her father. The length of Lydia's absence had done her a world of good for she was now as placid as Jane, though she received little thanks for it. Elizabeth tried to fill that gap. She was gratified by the offer that Kitty had now made but volunteered her own services instead. "I'll go to papa, and you can take Mama her tea." Kitty nodded and began to do so, just as their father came in.

"Papa," Elizabeth began, "you look tired. How much you must have gone through."

"Say nothing of that," Mr Bennet replied. "Who should suffer but myself? It has been my own doing and I ought to feel it."

"You must not be so severe upon yourself," Elizabeth admonished gently.

"No, Lizzy, let me once in my life feel how much I have been to blame. I am not afraid of being overpowered by the impression. It will pass away soon enough."

"Do you suppose them to be in London?"

"Yes; where else can they be so well concealed."

"And Lydia always wanted to go to London," added Kitty.

"She is happy then," Mr Bennet commented dryly. "And her residence there will probably be of some duration." He paused, then leant forward to continue, taking Elizabeth's hand in his. "Lizzy, I bear you no ill will for being justified in your advice to me last _______ which, considering the event, shows some greatness of mind I think."

"If I should go to Brighton," Kitty remarked in a vain effort to make her father feel better by this, "I would behave better that Lydia."

It was the wrong thing to say. "You go to Brighton! I would not trust you so near it as Eastbourne, not for fifty pounds! No Kitty, I have at last learnt to be cautious, and you will feel the effects of it. No officer is ever to enter my house again, or to pass through the village! Balls will be absolutely prohibited, unless you stand up with one of your sisters. And you are never to stir out of this house again until you can prove that you can spend the day in a rational manner!"

Kitty was much subdued by this outburst and tried desperately to check her tears. Mr Bennet softened. "Well, well," said he, "do not make yourself uneasy my dear. If you are a good girl for the next ten years, I shall take you to a review at the end of them."

Kitty did not believe her father was joking and her tears became louder. Mr Bennet rolled his eyes and went back to his seat.

As the next day dawned Elizabeth was the first to rise. She dressed herself and slipped out of the house. She had been feeling rather confined lately, as she could only walk in the grounds in case her mother or Jane or the others wanted her.

She turned in the direction of Oakum Mount, stopping where the path's position allowed her an excellent view of Netherfield Park. She stood there for awhile, contemplating the view. She could remember standing here briefly less than a year ago, watching two riders galloping across the fields below. She had not known then that those two riders would change forever her life and her sister's.

Jane was married now and living in the house she was looking at, and in a few months time would become a mother. It was strange how things turned out. Elizabeth had always imagined that she and Jane would marry together. Suddenly a flash came into her mind and for one horrifying moment Elizabeth saw herself in a double wedding with her sister, marrying Mr Collins. She chuckled, her mood lifting for once. At times she felt like she was living in a dream. Nothing seemed real lately.

A breeze ruffled the trees and Elizabeth turned back in the direction of the path. It was time to stop wondering about her own future and wait for Lydia's to resolve itself first.

A sudden bump on the road appeared as if out of nowhere. The driver passed over it expertly, causing only a momentary jolt in the interruption of the smooth ride.

Darcy was brought awake by the jolt and he carefully sat up to gaze out of the window at the passing countryside. For the first time in a long while he allowed himself to think about Elizabeth. The woman he loved. He had tried to avoid thoughts of her lately, fearing how others might interpret his loss of attention and the state of his face.

Mrs Gardiner knew. He had established that the minute she had briefly mentioned Elizabeth the day he had a luncheon with them before he left for Derbyshire. She had just returned from Longbourn and had managed to assure Darcy of his friend's well being.

At least that's what he had admitted to. But Mrs Gardiner had seen straight through it and had managed to ally his real fears. She casually mentioned Elizabeth at several points of the conversation which gladdened his heart. He wondered how much she knew and when she had learned of it. And how. Would Elizabeth have told her? Darcy was not sure.

Colonel Fitzwilliam hesitated to read the rest of the express after reading the first few words. It was obviously bad news and to read it would be like intruding on Darcy's private life. Yet all the same his eyes were drawn to the page. Shaking his head the Colonel read the first line again.

Dear Sir,

I regret that it is my duty to inform you that...........

The Colonel stopped himself again. He should not, should not be doing this. He should send it on to Darcy's first port of call along the journey to Derbyshire and leave it at that. Yet still his eyes were drawn to the page. Sighing resolutely, Colonel Fitzwilliam abandoned his caution and began to satisfy his curiosity.

Dear Sir,

I regret that it is my duty to inform you that the situation at your estate is one of the most dreadful nature.

The carriage stopped at a small village Posting Inn of no importance to change the horses for the next leg of the journey. Darcy got out of the carriage to stretch his legs and sort out the stabling arrangements for his four black steeds who would stay here until; he had returned to _______ whereupon he would use them for his return journey to London.

It was a task his carriage driver could take care of, but Darcy preferred to handle it himself. As he walked back to the carriage where his man was waiting by the open door, he glanced briefly at the sky, marvelling at the weather which despite all purports of the usual signs of rain, had stayed remarkably fine. He looked back towards the carriage and got inside. The horses sped away on the second leg of his journey.

Normally I would hesitate to trouble you so, especially as I am only too well aware of the relationship between you and Mrs Darcy, but matters have changed somewhat considerably since you left. I just hope that you are able to pull yourself away from the business in London. But to resume, as no doubt you are intrigued by now to what news I have to relay.

A few days ago a carriage arrived at the house.................

They took another brief break in Lambton where this time Darcy stayed in the carriage, lost in another world while his physical presence appeared to stare out at the people as they walked past. His mind was in London, imagining the wedding of his enemy already occurring before his eyes. Suddenly the bride turned round to face him. Darcy gasped and for one awful moment he saw Elizabeth marrying Wickham. He shook himself back to reality. He needed to get home.

............for Mrs Darcy. It contained a gentleman who is already acquainted with you I believe, a Mr James Huntingdon, heir to the Earldom of _______. He requested to see Mrs Darcy at once. Knowing his reputation I of course refused him, but he would not be dissuaded. He walked straight past me and called out Mrs Darcy's name.

As Darcy's carriage neared the boundaries of his estate, Darcy was struck by the quietness of the estate. He had expected at least one of his groundsmen somewhere, working on one of the gardens or attending to the trees. Instead he saw and heard none. It was most unusual.

The carriage came to halt a few metres from his front entrance and Darcy was surprised to see two carriages barring passage from his own. The first was an opened topped, black with blue furnishing and the crest of the Earl of _______ proudly staring at him from its vantage point. The carriage was driven by two bays, both of which looked rested, as though they had been there a long while. The other was......... the doctor's.

Darcy practically ran through the archway and up the stairs to the main entrance. What on earth was going on here?

Your wife, Sir, called back that she would be down in a minute. And that's when this most dreadful tragedy occurred. Mrs Darcy must have slipped upon the hardwood floors which had just been recently polished. She fell down the stairs, hitting her head against the wall at the bottom.

Darcy walked inside to find Mrs Reynolds waiting for him anxiously. Panic began to overwhelm him. "What's the matter, Kate? Is Georgiana all right?"

"Miss Darcy is fine, Sir," Mrs Reynolds replied, looking puzzled. "Its Mrs Darcy who is ill."

Now it was Darcy's turn to look puzzled.

"Did you not get my letter, Sir?"

"Where is she?"

"In her room, Sir. Dr Asthen is there."

Darcy did not catch the last as he rushed past her up the stairs.

The Doctor was called immediately. His diagnosis revealed all we needed to know. There is no easy way to tell you this, Sir, but I must. Your wife is dying.

Chapter XV.

Two days after Mr Bennet's return, Elizabeth and Jane were walking outside in the grounds of Longbourn when they were accosted by Mrs Hill, the housekeeper. "What is it Hill?" Elizabeth asked instantly. "Does Mrs Bennet need one of us?"

"Oh no, ma'am. I was wondering if you knew that an express had come for master from Mr Gardiner."

"When did it come Hill?" Elizabeth asked in a concerned voice.

"About an hour ago ma'am," Hill replied and the two thanked her before they went to find their father.

He was not in the breakfast room, nor was he in the library and they were on the point of checking on their mother to see if he was there when the Butler informed them that he had seen the master heading in the direction of copse outside.

Elizabeth reached him first. "Papa," she cried out. "What news? What news have you heard from my uncle?"

"Yes, I have had a letter from him by express."

"And what news does it bring, good or bad?"

"What is there of good to be expected?" Said he, taking the letter from his pocket and handing it to her. "Perhaps you would like to read it yourself."

Elizabeth grasped it eagerly from his hand as Jane came up to stand beside her.

"Read it aloud, Lizzy," said their father, "for I hardly know what to make of it myself.

My dear brother,

At last I am able to send you some tidings of my niece and Mr Wickham. I have seen them both...........

"It is as I hoped!" Jane interjected. "They are married!"

They are not married and nor can I find that there was any intention of being so, but if you are willing to perform the engagements I have ventured to make on your side, I believe that it will not be long before they are.

"What engagements?" Elizabeth asked her father at this point.

"Read on," Mr Bennet commanded lightly.

All that is required of you is to assure your daughter that her equal share of the five thousand pounds she shall inherit on your death and allow her during your life, the sum of one hundred pounds per annum.

"One hundred pounds per annum?" Elizabeth repeated, puzzled. "Why so little?"

"Hr, read on."

You will easily comprehend by this that Mr Wickam's circumstances are not so hopeless as they are generally believed to be.

"There!" Jane replied happily. The father remained the same, and instructed Lizzy to continue to read.

I am happy to say that there will be some little money, after all his debts are discharged, to settle on my niece.

"I cannot believe it," Elizabeth remarked, reading between the lines. Her father chuckled and said again, "Read on."

We have judged it best that my niece should be married from this house, of which I hope you will approve........

"Oh, poor Kitty will be disappointed not to be a bridesmaid," Jane remarked.

Send back your answer as soon as you can and be sure to write explicitly as to the financial settlement.

Elizabeth closed the letter. "How is it possible," she began, "that Wickham will marry her for so little?"

"Maybe he is not so as undeserving as we thought. Maybe he does truly love her," Jane cried hopefully.

"You think that, Jane," her father replied. "If it gives you comfort."

"Have you answered the letter?" Elizabeth asked.

"No, but I must. And soon."

"And they must marry," Elizabeth concluded, "and he is such a man."

"Yes they must marry, there's noting else to be done. But there are two things I very much want to know. One is how much money your uncle has laid down to bring this about, and the other, how ever am I to repay him."

"Dying?" Mr Darcy queried Dr Asthen as if he had not heard him properly.

"Yes sir. There is nothing more I can do. The injury to her head was too severe. It is now only a matter of time."

Darcy thanked him and went into his wife's bedchamber. It was to be his first and last visit to this room, which was as far away from his own as it could possibly be.

A young man of about thirty stood up as he entered the room. Darcy looked at him blankly. "And you are?"

"James Huntingdon. Viscount Huntingdon."

Darcy's face became blacker. He had heard of Viscount Huntingdon. And of his many affairs. The man knew no proprieties. "Let's talk outside, shall we?"

"Er, well I think......."

"IT WAS NOT A REQUEST!" Darcy thundered back, making the man jump, despite his superior rank. He meekly joined him out of the room and into the corridor. "I thought you would have been okay with this."

"What?"

"She said you lived separate lives."

Now Darcy was completely confused. And he was getting angrier by the minute. He led the man into his study, shutting the door behind him, before he sat down behind his desk and asked him the following. "Explain everything. Now."

Mrs Bennet's cries of joy could be heard throughout the entire house.

Elizabeth gave up trying to make clear to her mother the seriousness of the situation and went downstairs to join her father. Mr Bennet grasped her hand and led her inside his library. "Shut the door, Lizzy."

The door was shut, making the shrieks less audible. Mr Bennet continued to speak. "At least some happiness can be gained from this."

"Do you suppose my uncle has laid down a great deal of money in this?"

"Yes I do. Wickam's a fool if he takes with a farthing less than ten thousand pounds."

"Ten thousand pounds!?!" Elizabeth awed. "How is half such a sum to be repaid?"

"I wish I had laid by a certain sum every year to provide for my daughters. But of course I hoped to father a son. The son would inherit the estate, no part of which would be entailed away, so providing for my widow and any other children. But when Lydia was born and all hope of a son was lost, seemed a little late to begin saving.

The satisfaction of prevailing on one of the most worthless young men of Great Britain, might then have rested in its proper place." Mr Bennet sighed. "But it is done now and with extraordinary little inconvenience to myself. When I think of the money I will save on Lydia's board and pocket allowance, I'm scarce less than ten pounds worst off. I'm heartedly ashamed of my self, Lizzy."

Elizabeth came forward and laid a comforting hand on her father's shoulder.

"Well," Mr Bennet concluded, "this shall all pass. And no doubt quicker than it should."

"Now," Darcy began in a tone that was striving to be calm, "let me get this straight. Caroline planned to run away with you?"

"Yes." Viscount Huntingdon judged it best to keep his answers simple.

"And you agreed?"

"Yes." The Viscount paused. "Mr Darcy, you must understand, it is possible to love Caroline. I loved her dearly before her marriage to you."

"Then why did you not marry her yourself?"

"My father disapproved of the inferiority of the match."

That's pretty hypocritical considering your mother was a gypsy girl, Darcy was about to retort before deciding against it. Now was not the time to be arguing. Caroline was dying. Caroline was dying. The reality of it was still sinking in. Darcy got up from his chair. "Come on," he said abruptly to Huntingdon, "let's go back to her."

To everyone's surprise the solemn tone of the priest quietened Lydia's giddiness. She stayed silent, listening to the ceremony, every now and then glancing at Wickham.

Wickham himself was avoiding everybody's eyes, staring fixedly out of the window ahead, wishing the wedding over already. He could feel other's gazes burrowing into him.

Mr and Mrs Gardiner could not smile at this wedding. Having Lydia with them for a few days did not help much either, as they tried to avoid inquiries about why she was not getting married in Meryton and why her family were not at the wedding as well.

Darcy's eyes remained on Wickham throughout the entire ceremony, although at times he felt like only half of his spirit was there watching the wedding. As for his other half, it kept flicking between locations. One minute it was there at the church in London. Next it was at Pemberley where a whole house was shrouded in mourning for a death that few knew had happened. Then it would flick to his uncle's house where Georgiana was staying until the funeral.

The funeral. Caroline was dead. Caroline was dead. Darcy could still not believe it. He was at last able to marry again and not have to worry about the social stigma that divorce would have created. Yet he felt guilty for thinking about that, as though it was a wound on Caroline's memory. Yet he could not stop thinking about it. He was free, free to marry the woman he loved. Elizabeth. So why did he feel like crying?

Chapter XVI.

With the union of Wickham and Lydia finally accomplished, Jane was at last able to tell her family of the news she had been keeping secret. It was told, rather tentatively, just after breakfast, when she and Mr Bingley had arrived at the house, and the reaction which she received was all she could have hoped for and more.

Mrs Bennet almost screamed out her delight, confined as she was to her room no longer, not since she had been told of Lydia's forthcoming marriage. Of that and the future grandchild was all she could talk about, nothing else. It occupied all of her thoughts for the rest of the day, as she chatted to anyone that would listen and sometimes when they would not. As for her husband he retreated back to the library, emerging only for meals.

As life at Longbourn was slowly returning to normality, or what was considered normal by them, the Bingley's lessened their visits to the Bennets, remaining at Netherfield far more frequently, an event which caused Elizabeth great sadness, for no sooner than she had become accustomed to seeing her sister every day once more, that she must now cope with only seeing her weekly. It was a lost that was difficult to bare, but eventually Elizabeth adjusted by spending more time with her father and with Kitty, trying to install in her the permanency of the better character dispositions and manners that she had been recently displaying.

Another letter from Mr Gardiner eventually brought news of Lydia and Wickham and mentioned in passing how much Lydia was hoping to visit Longbourn before the couple travelled to Newcastle to join Wickam's regiment. This hint served its purpose well, for it caused Mr Bennet to be the brunt of many attacks as to why he should refuse his daughter's request.

After much persuasion by both Elizabeth and Jane, Mr Bennet finally relented and the couple soon arrived. They were everything everyone expected them to be; Lydia was her usual self as she boasted of her success at getting a husband and her wish that they had all gone to Brighton. Lydia was still Lydia; wild, untamed, unabashed, noisy and fearless. She addressed each sister in turn, demanding congratulations from each, and laughing at their rather cold replies.

"Only, think of its being three months," she cried when they were all seated, "since I went away; it seems but a fortnight I declare; yet there have been things enough happened in the time. Good gracious When I went away, I am sure I had no more idea of being married till I came back again! Though I thought it would be very good fun if I was."

Mr Bennet lifted his eyes to the ceiling. Jane was distressed and Bingley likewise embarrassed. Elizabeth looked at her sister in exasperation, a look which Lydia ignored completely.

Lydia then turned to Jane and began to remark on her altered appearance. "La, I did not think you would be the first to turn with child. I suspected I would get there before you, did I not, George darling?"

Mr Wickham had the grace to look embarrassed by his wife, and Jane was similarly distressed. Mr Bingley dropped his usually good-humoured face and looked almost angrily at Lydia who appeared to notice none of it. Elizabeth meanwhile could bare it no longer. She got up and ran out of the room, retreating to her father's usual base camp; the library. Her sister joined her a few minutes later.

"Is she never to change!?!" Elizabeth cried out to Jane who attempted no check of her. "Are we forever to be subject to her judgements? Dear god, I wish we had never let her come! How dare she say that about you!"

Jane still made no effort to check her sister, instead offered her support, entirely agreeing with her sister. "I must confess I hoped marriage would change her."

"I hoped the same," Elizabeth replied sitting down next to her, laying an arm of comfort around her. "How are we to bear these next ten days!?!"

A knock at the door sounded at that moment and Mr Bingley came in. "I have come to invite you luncheon with us, Lizzy, at Netherfield, if you wish to come."

Elizabeth accepted readily and the three paid a parting gesture to Mr Bennet before they quietly departed from Longbourn.

For a few weeks while the arrangements for the funeral were made, Matlock townhouse served as a sanctuary for the Darcy family. Compared to Darcy's own townhouse it was relatively secluded and had the additional advantage of disguising well the fact that anyone was at home, incurring no visits by well-wishers or society gossips.

Darcy stayed in his rooms, venturing out only for meals, despite all his relation's persuasions. He was still trying to sort out his feelings for Caroline's death and until they were sorted out, the news was not going to be made public. His mind was a turmoil of conflicting emotions, none agreeing with another, and each threatening to overwhelm him in grief. They went constantly between two people; one dead and the other yet living. Caroline and Elizabeth.

He knew that the latter would be receiving her new brother and his heart ached to know her feelings. He wished he could be there for her, to comfort and console her. Yet Caroline was once again unintentionally barring him from such a journey, because feelings of guilt and conscience would prevent him from even voicing that intention.

His relatives knew not what to make of him. His sister worried over him and as he suffered so did she, anxious as she was for his well-being. His aunt and uncle could do nothing to help either of them and his cousins felt equally useless as all tried and failed to bring him out of the shell which he had retreated into since his wife's death, a wife which he had revealed to them only a few months ago that he was going to divorce.

They could only ascribe two reasons to his manner, that of love and that of guilt. The former, because of recent events seemed unlikely, despite its apparent logic, and the latter was equally hard to detect, especially if one asked the man in question and found that he would not answer in favour of either.

It was just, as they were forced to conclude, a matter that must be waited out, and they hoped that the sufferer could resolve it on his own.

When Elizabeth finally found the courage to return to Longbourn, she found Lydia still her usually self and now, having told everyone else the full details of her wedding, she wanted to tell Elizabeth and Jane. She pounced on them as soon as they returned and despite all of their unenthusiastic responses, she would not refrain from telling them the whole.

"I must tell you how it went off," she began, "we were married you know at St Clement's because Wickam's lodgings were in that parish. And it was settled that we would all be there by eleven o'clock. My Uncle and Aunt and I were to go together; and the others were to meet us at the church. Well, Monday morning came, and I was in such a fuss! I was so afraid you know that something would happen to put it off........."

Elizabeth had had enough by this point and so shut off her attention to her sister's constant babble. It carried on for what seemed like hours and it was only the very last part of it, which concerned the delays of their uncle's lawyer and the subsequent fear that Mr Gardiner would not be able to give her away, that brought back her attention.

"But, luckily, he came back again in ten minutes time, and then we all set out. However, I recollected afterwards that if he had been prevented in going, the wedding need not be put off, for Mr Darcy would have done just as well."

"Mr Darcy?" Elizabeth questioned in surprise. "Mr Darcy was at your wedding?"

"Oh yes! He was to come with Wickham because someone had to be groomsman and I would have preferred Denny but........... Oh lord I quite forgot! And I promised them all so faithfully! What will Wickham say! It was supposed to be a secret."

"If it was supposed to be that," Jane replied, "then do not mention any more. You can be assured of us seeking no further information about it."

Lydia was most happy with this juncture and all conversation came to an end as she ran off to speak with another sister. As for Elizabeth, she would have longed to ask more questions and this news caused the greatest astonishment. Mr Darcy was at Lydia's wedding! it was almost too impossible to believe, yet true it was, for there was no reason for Lydia to lie about it. Two questions now occurred to her; firstly, why was he at their wedding and secondly, was he in any way responsible for any of the developments in the whole affair?

As it was supposed to be a secret and because Elizabeth had no idea where Darcy was right now she sat down at the nearest writing desk and composed a letter to her aunt. She was the only Elizabeth felt could tell her why Mr Darcy was present and who would not question her for asking. It made her grateful again for her aunt's persistence and insistence that her niece tell her everything that had been bothering her lately, else she would have missed this opportunity.

My Dear Aunt,

Pray write and tell me how he of all people could have been there, unless you too are under the secret that Lydia claims to. I cannot answer this myself to any satisfaction and therefore beg to know the whole.

Yours
Elizabeth Bennet.

As quickly as he had gone into his shell, Darcy emerged out of it. The change was instant, he appeared down for breakfast one morning and stayed with his family the entire day. His family, knowing his disposition, chose not to inquire upon it and just accepted his presence. His sister rejoiced and spent every minute with him and Darcy welcomed her willingly. She provided what others could not, the healing balm he needed to recover. During the days before the funeral they became closer than ever before, relying upon each other for the support they needed.

A week before the funeral Darcy built up the courage to write to Bingley to inform him of his sister's death. It was a task which he had dreaded doing but knew all the same that it needed to be done and soon to give him time to come up.

When the letter was done and he had leaned back in his chair, laying down the quill he felt exhausted. Peaceful but exhausted. The adrenaline that had been with him since the first day he had learnt of the eventual tragedy had finally ran out and yet he felt like a weight had lifted from him. As he did so his thoughts drifted once again to Elizabeth, only this time it was unaccompanied by the usual guilt.

The ten days of the Wickhams stay quickly went and Lizzy was glad of it. There were only a few more days left that she could have stood of Wickham's geniality to her without confronting him about the presence of Mr Darcy at his wedding. The question still bothered her, especially as she had yet to receive a reply from her aunt. The delay was disconcerting, for her aunt was generally prompt in her replies, and unless the letter had gone astray, she could only suppose that the lack of reply was deliberate. What was it that her aunt could not tell her? Elizabeth wished she knew.

She travelled over to the Bingley's once again and found Jane calmly sorting out a minor disagreement between two servants. Elizabeth found herself smiling instantly. Jane had become an excellent mistress of Netherfield, a sharp contrast to the others that she had previously seen at the house before the Devereauxs decided to let it. At that moment her sister turned to welcome her. "Finally left?" Jane asked her as they walked inside.

"Yes, not half an hour ago," Elizabeth replied. "Where's Charles?"

"The post arrived a few minutes ago so he will be in his study," Jane replied with all the happiness of someone very much in love. And naturally because she was in love, she could not bare to be separated from her love for long, so that two quickly walked to the room where he was located.

Charles Bingley slowly lay down the letter which had occupied his attention for the past........ was it really only minutes? It had seemed like a lifetime.

"Charles?"

He turned at the sound of his wife's voice to find Elizabeth standing next her. He blinked, wondering how long his friend had been in love with her.

Chapter XVII.

"Darce?"

The man blinked and turned slightly in the direction of the voice. "I'm sorry Bingley."

"No need for you to apologise. She preferred the town anyway."

"Its just the thought of her occupying the family crypt......." Darcy trailed off. "I do not deserve such a friend as you, Charles."

"Bingley, you better tell him to stop that or I might do something I'll regret," Colonel Fitzwilliam remarked as he walked over to them. "All the rest are gone," he added. "Are you two coming?"

"I am. I need to write a letter to Jane."

"Another one?" The Colonel questioned in exasperation. "No, there's no need to explain," he replied when Bingley began to, "I understand perfectly. This is why I chose bachelorhood." He turned to his cousin. "And you, Darce?"

"I'll be along in a while."

Colonel Fitzwilliam nodded and walked away with his cousin's best friend towards the carriage which was stationed in front of the church. "I do not know why he is hesitating," he commented. "It is not as if any one of us expects him to mourn. We all knew he was going to divorce her and I certainly knew he had someone else in mind."

"You know Darcy," Bingley replied. "He is far too noble for his own good." He paused. "When is he going to see Lizzy?" He asked rhetorically.

"You know about that?" Fitzwilliam confirmed in surprise.

"He told me in his letter," Bingley replied, "but I never realised that his admiration had been of long standing."

Darcy meanwhile had not heard any of this, lost in thought as he was. Instead he just stared at the grave, his mind far away. It was strange, he mused, how things worked out. At the age of eight and twenty he was already widowed and contemplating his next marriage.

Marriage! Caroline was only just in her grave! Yet, somehow, his mind was already decided on his next course of action. He would sort out the estate business that needed to be done, but which he had neglected lately, and then he would travel to Hertfordshire where he would for the second time go down on bended knee to the woman he loved. Elizabeth!

Fitzwilliam! Elizabeth woke up with he name on her lips and his image in her dreams. When she opened her eyes, for a brief moment she could sworn she had seen him standing before her. She walked to the window and parted the curtains to view the new dawn. As she did so she asked her seriously whether or not she would be able to forget Fitzwilliam Darcy, as she had vowed to try and do.

The answer she received was a decidedly negative one. This was not unexpected, indeed Elizabeth found that it was an answer which she had resigned herself to long ago. She would not, could not forget him. Nor did she see herself finding someone else.

As yet however, she could not resign herself to that realistic fate. If he did divorce, she knew that would willingly bare all the social stigma of it and marry him, and so until that was found impossible, she would not give up the hope that somehow, someday they would come to an understanding.

Despite a feeling of sorrow Elizabeth could help smiling at the decision she had just realised. If someone had told her a year ago that she would soon meet the man that she would be willing to walk through fire for, she would have laughed at the absurdity of it. She had always sworn to marry for the deepest love, having half an idea that it might never happen, yet now it had become reality for her.

She chuckled softly at that thought and turned to gaze at the garden in a vain effort to try and focus her mind on something else. Anything else. She begged her mind to try, but all it could come up with was the Lydia situation. She was almost certain now that he had been personally involved in the circumstances that led up to the eventual marriage.

Her father had been right when he said that Wickham was a fool if he took Lydia without money, and Lizzy herself knew that he was right. It was this assumption which convinced her that it was not her uncle who had paid Wickham off.

Only someone who knew him well would have been able to persuade him to agree to so little settled on Lydia and Elizabeth was without a doubt certain as to who that person was. It would explain why his friend had not had contact with him for several weeks. Until a few days ago in fact.

She remembered well that when she had visited Netherfield and she had her sister had found Bingley in the Library reading a letter with the Darcy crest upon it. This in itself was not unusual but Bingley's expression had been. Elizabeth could still picture it perfectly. She had rarely seen Bingley being anything but cheerful and the expression she had seen on him that afternoon was the one she had never seen before. It looked thoughtful, but also surprised and even had touches of sorrow.

Added to that he had refused to talk about the letter, mentioning only that it was from Darcy. He then announced to Jane the next morning that he had to travel to town on an urgent matter of business. What that business was Elizabeth had no idea of and neither did Jane it seemed. For some reason she had begun to think that it concerned Darcy because Bingley was only silent in matters of friendship.

Added to this she had been experiencing nightmares lately, all of which concerned him in grief, convincing her that something was up. She wished she knew what. You would know if you had not broken up with him, a voice inside her head insisted on replying with. Yet she had been so certain when she had done it.

To say yes to his proposal would have trapped her and Elizabeth knew, or rather hoped, Darcy now understood her refusal. Thinking upon it and wondering about it as she had done so ever since it had occurred, she had hoped that he had.

She remembered the moments of closeness at Lambton when he had held her in his arms as she had told him of Lydia and she also remembered his kindness at Pemberley, all of which seemed to say that he did understand and that he did forgive her for what now seemed to her as undeniably harsh manner with which she had treated him when she met him at Hunsford and at Netherfield. She was grateful for it if he did. She had to hope that he did, to keep her emotions in perspective.

A quiet knock at the door broke her thoughts. Elizabeth turned away from the window and called out for the maid to come in. It was time to face another day.

After she had changed she arrived downstairs to find only her father at the breakfast table, being an early riser like herself. He had a letter in his hand ad every now and again would chuckle at the contents.

"Ah, Lizzy," he said upon her entrance. "I have here in my hands Mr Collins' judgement on the recent events. I swear the man has less sense now than when we saw him last."

"What does he have to say?" Elizabeth asked him as she had been given leave to do so by the last comment.

"Oh, he spends about five sides on the evils of youth, most of which contain repetition about every five lines. The rest of his letter speaks of Lady Catherine's judgement -something that he thinks would matter to us- which is his, almost word for word."

"She probably dictated it to him," Elizabeth commented, causing a laugh from her father. "Does he mention anything else?"

"Eventually yes," Mr Bennet paused to find the instance. Suddenly his expression changed to shock. "I had no idea," he remarked, as if to himself. "Poor Charles."

"Poor Charles?" Elizabeth repeated, looking concerned. "Papa, what's wrong?"

"According to this, Caroline Darcy is dead."

Elizabeth was suddenly grateful that she had nothing in her hands. "When did this happen?"

"It seems to be awhile ago," Mr Bennet concluded after a pause. "For he mentions it only in passing in order to explain his patroness' intentions."

"Intentions to what?" Elizabeth asked, trying to sound only casually interested.

"Her nephew's new wife. Apparently Lady Catherine intends for Mr Darcy to marry her daughter, a match that was planned while they were in their cradles."

Elizabeth wondered if her face was concealing her shock and overwhelming grief. She had a feeling the hope was in vain. Everything was lost.

While the news of Mrs Darcy's death and possible new woman to fill that role passed round the home counties of the family, Darcy remained in the close company of his dearest friends, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr Bingley, who deliberately delayed his return journey in order to make sure his friend was okay.

To all outward appearances Darcy was coping very well in mourning. At least that was what the society -to use a modern term- grapevine had concluded. In reality the case was very different, although if one were to ask the gentleman himself, one would find a very different answer.

Darcy was convinced that he was coping very well with changes to his will and such forth, but his friends knew that it would only be a matter of time until he eventually broke down his defences. True, he was not mourning Caroline, for he had never really cared about her, but his mourning was still connected to her.

His friends knew that Darcy blamed himself for her death even though he could not have foreseen it, all they were waiting for was for him to admit it aloud. Yet Darcy was remarkably stubborn and his cousin was seriously beginning to consider dragging him to the nearest wine cellar and making him soundly drunk.

It was almost a month to the day after Caroline's funeral when Darcy finally relented to his friends and asked to receive absolution. His friends obligingly shut up the house and availed themselves on the Earl of Matlock's extensive wine cellar, who had assured them of his allegiance until his nephew was back to his usual self.

At the end of the same week Charles Bingley departed from London to Netherfield, having delayed his departure long enough. Jane was nearing her confinement and he could not longer stay away without becoming a wreck to his friends, which would leave Colonel Fitzwilliam as the only sane and sober gentleman among them, a task which the latter joking commented as one he would not relish.

Before he left Bingley made his friend agree to visiting him as soon as he sent word, an offer which Darcy barely acknowledged, hesitant as he was to facing Elizabeth at this time. Of course going to Netherfield did not necessarily mean that he would see her, nor did Darcy particularly want to make preference to avoid her, rather it was that he felt himself unequal to seeing her at this time.

He knew that one glance, one glimmer, one sign, no matter how small, of how much she - hopefully - still loved him, would be all that he would need to voice his desire to marry her once more. True he was relying on this conceit as an excuse, but it mattered not. If he married her now, the entire ton would be up in arms. Slander, gossip and disapproval would be flung at them from every quarter, which was the last thing Darcy would have her bare.

No, a proper amount of mourning must be observed, no matter how much of a wreck he became because of it. He wished that he could write to her, to tell her not to be concerned at the reports she must have no doubt heard by now. To tell her that he loved her still and that as soon as he could, he would come for her.

But no, that would be too risky. Knowing as he felt he did, he could imagine her reacting with anger to his arrogance over the assumption and might reject him anyway, or worst still her feelings might have really changed and then the letter would serve only as a guilty reminder.

Not to mention that there was also a semblance of safety in not knowing, even though the agony of his concern about her increased. What must she be feeling, he wondered, wishing he knew. He longed for her touch, her smile, her laugh, even her just presence, almost every hour of the day.

He could no longer fix on the spot, or the hour, or look which had laid the foundation stone of his devotion, his love for her. It was all too long ago. He finally understood now what it must be like in marriages formed on love and respect, not the compromises and mercenary desires which had fulfilled his last.

Abruptly he stood up and shook himself, causing his cousin a great surprise. (Colonel Fitzwilliam made no query on it, he knew how his cousin's mind worked, and to interrupt him now would only halt the healing process). He needed to stop getting ahead of himself, to stop analysing, as was his tendency, and instead concentrate on getting himself through this. If he subjected his rationale to scrutiny too much, he might begin to doubt all of his judgement. He sat back down, and changed the thoughts in his mind.

He realised the importance of his friends, especially Bingley's for supporting him over his own sister. Darcy had been so concerned when the cracks of his marriage began to show that Charles would support Caroline rather than him and he was eternally grateful for it. He was also thankful for him choosing Netherfield as his first country residence out of all the others that were on offer. Who knows what might have happened if he had decided on Derbyshire instead, as had been his original plan. Darcy hoped one day he would be able to make it up to him.

As for the Colonel, Darcy was also grateful for his wordless support after the confession he dealt him at Hunsford. He had looked for an outburst when none had come. No, "I told you so's", just support. He was thankful for his family and friends. Very thankful indeed.

Chapter XVIII.

London, 18_ _

Elizabeth had never been to a society ball before. And this was one that she was unlikely to forget, for it was the first time she met him.

They had just got married. A week ago in town. A typical society wedding, ton included. No honeymoon, that was unusual. Then, considering the state of Europe at that time, it was to be expected. It seemed almost as if the ball had waited for their appearance. Certainly the music had stopped as they entered.

"Ah, I see marriage hasn't changed her," the host remarked almost to herself.

"Who do you mean?" Mrs Gardiner asked. She and the host, Lady Harwood, had known each other since childhood.

"Madeline dear, you are looking at the new mistress of Pemberley," Lady Harwood replied. The, seeing Elizabeth was puzzled, she added, "Mrs Fitzwilliam Darcy."

Elizabeth found herself staring at Mrs Darcy as the couple walked over to greet the host. Lady Harwood introduced all of them.

"Charmed," Mrs Darcy replied, obviously lying. She quickly drew her husband away.

Elizabeth did not meet the woman again that night. She was never to meet her again in fact, until Meryton. Instead she was to meet the man.

He had not been exactly enjoying the ball, but then he had not wanted to come. Already he was regretting his marriage to Caroline. He sighed and stepped out on to the balcony. Clasping the railing in frustration he voiced his torment aloud.

"How much more must I endure! Why oh why did I not listen to Charles! I never should have married her!"

Suddenly he heard a rustle of skirts. He turned round, his mask returning to his face. "Forgive me, I..........." he began rather stiffly, then became immobile. Facing him was a young woman. A very beautiful young woman. She had dark brown hair and brown eyes. And oh, what eyes they were!

"Did not realise anyone was here?" She finished his sentence for him, bringing him out of the trance her beauty had trapped him in.

"Yes," Darcy replied. "I'm sorry, I do not believe............." He trailed off, as unbidden, his mind started to entertain thoughts about her that a married man should not have.

"That we have been introduced? But indeed we have, sir. I was standing with Lady Harwood when you arrived," she replied with a lively smile. The fantasies were beginning to haunt him again. "Elizabeth Bennet."

"Fitzwilliam Darcy," he replied, bringing her proffered hand to his lips, wanting to do so much more. This was crazy! He was married! He should not be thinking stuff like this. And yet he was.

"Forgive me, Mr Darcy. Usually I do not interfere with peoples private lives, but it looks like you need to talk to someone," Elizabeth commented, her mind screaming at her. What are you doing? You never usually flirt! And he's married!

"Thank you, but I assure you.........." he trailed off again. Oh what the hell, he thought to himself. Abandon caution to the winds.

And that's exactly what they did.

London, 1812.

Darcy was sitting alone in his library, The Morning Post in his hand, an untouched Earl Grey by his side. That is until the doors were thrown open and his whole room was invaded by the presence of Lady Catherine de Bough.

"Aunt Catherine," Darcy barely managed to get out as he sat up with a jump, almost sending the Earl to the floor.

"Really nephew," his Aunt admonished. "That's 17th century china."

"Sorry Aunt." Darcy stood up and greeted her properly. "Er, what brings you to London?" He tried to ask casually.

"You, nephew," his Aunt replied, much to his puzzlement. She sat down and motioned to the footman who had rushed in behind her. "Tea," she commanded.

The footman looked at his master and Darcy signalled him to depart. Mental note, get faster footmen for the front door.

"I want to know why you are still here."

"Here?" Darcy questioned.

"Yes, you should have informed me of your plans."

"Aunt," Darcy began, "I do not see why............"

"Enough," Lady Catherine cut him off. "I am most displeased with you."

"Displeased?" Darcy had been reduced to uttering only one word.

"Yes. I expected you would be anxious to marry her, but I also expected you to inform me about your plans."

"Who?" Darcy asked, but Lady Catherine continued as if he had never spoken.

"Why, the whole of London knew before I did. My brother even knew before I did. When were you going to tell me?"

"Tell?"

"Nephew, will you please stop that. You know perfectly well what I am talking about."

Darcy just stared at her blankly.

"I must say that I was most displeased with you at first." What, more so than you are now? "I know you did not love Caroline but I still expected you to mourn her properly. A Darcy must behave circumspectly, just as society expects him to."

"But of course," Darcy managed to muster. "And I intend to."

"Then, why have I heard reports that you intend to marry again soon?"

She knows! How the hell did she find out? And from whom? Darcy however, said none of this. "I confess I do not know, Aunt. I have only just returned to this house."

"Well, as long as you behave properly and propose to the girl, I will not mind. I offer you my congratulations." What!?! "I am sure Anne will have no doubts about marrying you."

"Anne? Aunt, I'm not marrying Anne."

"WHAT!?!"

Oops, that's put the cat amongst the pigeons. Darcy wished he had not sounded so sincere when he had said that answer.

As for Lady Catherine, she was now livid. "FITZWILLIAM," She bellowed. "May I remind you that that is what I have always intended?"

No, you may not. Darcy sighed. He had hoped to put this argument off, to marry before his Aunt knew. So much for that.

"You and Anne were always to marry. It was planned between your mother and myself since your cradles. Now, I accepted Caroline as one little rebellion, but I will not accept another."

"Aunt, when I marry again I will choose for myself."

"Nonsense! You will dare to defy your parent's memory?"

"My mother never told me I was to marry Anne. She only told me to find as much love as she had found when she married my father."

"Love! Utter nonsense! What has love to do in marriages these days?"

"I never loved Caroline, Aunt. That should explain why."

"Nephew!" Lady Catherine began to pace before him. "Will you please be rational! You are marrying Anne, that is the end of it!"

"No it is not, Aunt." Darcy stood up. It was time to stop humouring her. "Anne and I have always felt nothing more for each other than cousinly affection. I do not wish to marry her, I never will. My heart belongs to another. And that person is the woman I wish to marry. And nothing from you or anyone else could say, will prevent me from doing so."

"How dare you! You chose to defy your uncle? You choose to defy me?"

"My uncle respects my wishes in this case. I had his blessing long ago."

"Insolent, headstrong boy! You refuse to obey me?"

"For the last time, Aunt, my marriage plans are my decision alone. No one else's."

"This is your decision then? Very well, I shall know how to act. From this moment, Nephew, you will never see me again."

Darcy tried to hide the joy that this announcement provoked.

"Your name will never be mentioned my me. And the Shades of........."

"Please, Aunt, enough of the Shades." Darcy stepped forward. "I think you have made yourself clear. You know where the door is."

Lady Catherine certainly did. The shutting of it could be heard all through the street.

Darcy breathed a sigh of relief and sat back down. The footman that had been sent to bring more tea and who had wisely stayed outside the door until now, returned with brandy, appreciating his master's need. Darcy accepted the drink and took care to see that the man left before downing it in one. He filled the glass again and leant against the sofa. He was thankful that his Aunt had not learnt who he was to marry. At least who he hoped to marry.

Colonel Fitzwilliam then came in and looked at his cousin. "I gather Aunt Catherine decided to pay a visit."

"Yes. To congratulate me on my forthcoming marriage to Anne."

"What?"

"Calm down, Richard, I'm not, remember? That's just what Lady Catherine and the rest of society have surmised."

Fitzwilliam sat down, taking a brandy as well. "When did this happen?"

"Apparently, it was spreading around while we were 'locked' in Uncle Matlock's cellar," Darcy replied, causing his cousin to chuckle. "You really must tell her soon, Rich. You and Anne cannot wait forever."

"I know," the Colonel replied with a sigh. "It's just difficult."

"I had gathered that."

"We decided to wait until I could resign my commission more easily. Anyway, we're meant to be sorting out your love life, not mine." The Colonel paused to sip the brandy. "What are your plans?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" His cousin queried.

"I have no excuse to go down there right now. Also, how am I to explain myself? I am still meant to be in mourning."

"I think telling her that you are in love with her would be a good start." The Colonel knew nothing of his cousin's affair with Miss Elizabeth Bennet, he just knew his feelings.

"I'm not worried about explaining myself to Elizabeth, I'm worried how her family will react. No cousin, I cannot go yet. I have to wait until the proper mourning time has been observed. Or until Charles sends for me."

"But that is not until December. That's still a month away and more. What are you to do in that time?"

"Sort out my estate. I have neglected it for far too long."

"And what about Miss Bennet? What is she to do while you wait here in London for society to give you leave?"

Darcy took another brandy. "I do not even know if she cares for me, Richard. I wish that I did. I cannot even bring myself to consider any of that yet. You know the only thing that is stopping me from running to her and confessing all is what society will think of her."

"And what will they think of her?"

"Come on, Richard. You know society. There will be rumours within a week of the marriage. I have to wait. I do not want to wish that on her. No, I will wait until Charles sends me word. Then I will tell her all." And then pray that she still feels the same.

London, 18__.

"Miss Bennet!" Darcy exclaimed in joy. "I did not expect to find you here."

"Nor I you, Mr Darcy," Elizabeth returned as he took her hand in greeting again. "I did not think others walked the park at this hour."

"I usually prefer to do so at this time of the day. It is a habit that is hard to break." He paused. "May I join you?"

"I would much prefer to join you in your walk, sir," Elizabeth returned with a lively smile. Darcy smiled back and brought the hand which he was still holding over his arm.

They walked in silence for a while, both remembering the events of the night before. "I wanted to apologise," Darcy began.

"For the dance?" Elizabeth queried, knowing full well that dance was an understatement. It was more than just a dance. Last night he had told her more about himself than he had ever told anyone. Then they had waltzed alone on the balcony in time to the faint strands of the orchestra music that could be heard there. Then........

"No, not for the dance. For what happened after that dance," Darcy replied, clearly embarrassed.

"Mr Darcy," Elizabeth began slowly trying to control her blush. "Last night I believe we made a promise to be perfectly honest with each other." She took a deep breath, hoping that the next thing she was about to say would not disturb him. "I'm not."

Darcy blinked and turned to look at her. "You're not what?"

"I'm not sorry about last night. The kiss."

"You're not?" Darcy was overjoyed. He had never meant the kiss to happen but happen it did. He just could not stop himself. From the moment he had seen her he had wanted to kiss her. He worried all night that she would take offence.

Elizabeth herself knew that she was taking a big risk by admitting this to him. But she had never felt like this before for anyone.

Chapter XIX.

London, 18__

"In that case I retract my apology," Darcy replied, placing his hand over hers. They looked at each other for a brief moment before they began to contemplate the consequences of their revelation. In unison they spoke the automatic response. "We should not be doing this."

Their reaction broke the tension and both chuckled. They stopped their walk and Elizabeth separated from him to lean against a nearby tree. "So," she tentatively began. "What do we do now?"

"Whatever you want. You have the more to loose by this."

Elizabeth blushed at the implication and slowly considered the facts. She barely knew him, that was the first thing to remember. And yet she could not deny the feelings which that kiss had awoke. It had felt completely right, despite the risk the action took. She trusted him, she realised, and that was the material point, the point to decide upon. Nothing else mattered. She looked up at him. "I trust you."

Darcy seemed to understand her meaning. He came close in front of her, meeting her graze. It spoke her acceptance. He leaned forward and kissed her, the position of the tree concealing them from public view.

After that they walked on, without knowing the direction. Realities had to be discussed. Once they had taken this step there would be no going back. The natural alternative was of course to not go forward, but that was also impossible. Both knew that if they pretended this had never happened, they would always wonder what would have come if they had.

The risks were great, the consequences perhaps inevitable, yet at this point none of them seemed important when compared to what they felt for each other. True they had only just met but evening ago, however it felt like fate, a cruel sort of fate but a fate nonetheless. It would be wrong to deny the opportunity which it had given them. So they abandoned caution and took it.

The first time was at his house in the late morning of that very day. After that they began to meet whenever they could. More often than not they would just talk, unconsciously learning all they could about each other. It made the inevitable separation harder to bare. So it just seemed right when he suggested Kympton.

"A Vicarage?" Elizabeth queried, looking at him curiously. Darcy merely smiled back, laying another kiss upon her palm.

"Yes. The house remains empty as I have yet to find a suitable tenant....... Truth be known I .........." he trailed off to look at her face. "May I be candid with you, Elizabeth?"

"Of course."

"I don't want this to end. I have never felt happier these past few days then when I'm with you. The times we spend together have affected me more deeply than you could ever know. If you are willing I want you to live at Kympton for a while. If you cannot......" he trailed off again, a mask forming over his face. "I understand."

"It is not that I have no desire to go," Elizabeth replied quickly. She had seen that mask before and had no wish to see it again. "I am concerned about how I will be able to do so without causing suspicion."

Darcy visibly relaxed. He then leant forward to kiss her before exchanging ideas.

London, 1812.

Darcy woke up with a start. It took several breaths before he realised that what he had just dreamt of had happened well over a year ago.

He sat up with a deep sigh and got out of bed. Putting on his robe, he walk towards the window. He dew back the curtains to survey the sky. It was a few hours to go before dawn but he did not care. There was no way he could sleep now.

Longbourn, 1812.

Elizabeth woke up with a start. It took several breaths before she realised that what she had been dreaming had occurred well over a year ago.

She sat up and got out of bed with a sigh. Putting on her robe, she walked towards the window. She drew back a curtain to survey the sky. It was a few hours to go before dawn but she did not care. There was no way she could sleep now.

Her mind went back to the dream or rather memory she had just had a few minutes ago. It had been one of those perfect days, a day she had never wanted to end. They had been talking about going away together and forgetting the world. It had been pure fantasy of course.

Until he had brought up Kympton. She had never realised before that he had practically admitted how much he care for her then. I have never felt happier these past few days than when I am with you, he had said.

The times we have spent together have affected me more deeply than you could ever know. How she wished that she had been thinking clearly enough to realise then! Not that it probably would have changed anything, she knew that too well. However it would have prepared her for the revelations at Hunsford. Things he might never had revealed if she had not ended it with him. Perhaps it was easier this way. Then again, perhaps not.

Darcy thought back to the dream or rather memory he had just thought about. It had been one of those perfect days, a day he had never wanted to end. He realised now how many times he had come close to letting her know how much he loved her. Would it, he asked himself, been better if he had told her then? Probably not. The same events would have still occurred. They were uncontrollable, he realised.

He turned away from the window to survey his room. Briefly he had an image of Elizabeth in his bed. He wondered how she was. How she was coping, if at all. I miss you, Lizzy. Please, please understand I never wanted to you to wait. I would marry you in an instance if I could. If you still care, that is. I know I have done nothing to deserve your love, but I wish to have it always. I am coming Lizzy. I will be there as soon as Charles sends word.

Elizabeth sighed and turned to survey her room. For a brief moment she had an image of Fitzwilliam sleeping in her bed. She wondered how he was. What he was doing, wherever he was. Please, please come back to me, Fitzwilliam. I would marry you tomorrow if you would only ask. I know there's a chance that you no longer care for me, still let me assure you now that mine are still the same.

Suddenly Elizabeth felt an urge to look back out of the window. She could almost feel his voice his touch, as if he was replying to her plea. Somehow she felt reassured, comforted by the feeling. As though he was speaking to her, replying with his own feelings of love in return. Smiling, she turned to watch the coming dawn. Come, Fitzwilliam. I will be waiting for you.

The dawn came and with it the normal routine. Darcy bathed, dressed and appeared in the breakfast room just before the other occupants of his house came in. He helped himself to some toast as his cousin offered him a mumbled "good morning." Colonel Fitzwilliam was not a morning person, despite the trials of his Army rank. Darcy had learnt to not speak to him until he had had a strong cup of coffee.

They returned to the table just as Georgiana came in, humming a tune. Richard grimaced at the both of them. The Darcys were always morning people. He began to drink his coffee.

"You're in a good mood this morning, Georgiana," her brother commented, smiling.

His sister looked at him startled. "Well, this is a first."

"A first?" The Colonel queried, his coffee drunk and his humour restored. "I thought Darce was always like this."

"No, Richard, look. He's smiling."

"Whoa!"

Darcy shook his head at them. "You two, really! You're as bad as Anne. She never let's me live down that breakfast five years ago, when Aunt Catherine slept in."

The three chuckled at the memory of that chaotic morning. "Seriously," Richard continued, "why are you so happy?"

"I woke up just before dawn this morning," Darcy began to reply as his cousin dropped his mouth in shock of the hour. "And I realised that it was time to stop worrying about the future. I must cope until Charles sends word. So until then, you will see me in a good mood. However when that letter arrives I will be a quivering wreck."

His cousin chuckled. "In that case I shall have Fraser make sure a bottle of brandy is ready for you at that time. If you do not need it, I'm sure we will."

Darcy smiled at that, as his good mood did not extend to laughing just yet. Indeed he could not explain his good mood. All he could explain, at least to himself, was that after thinking that message to Lizzy in his head, he had almost felt her voice replying to the thought and answering with her own feelings. It left him quite comforted and with a new found will to face the day. It was so strange, but it felt somehow normal.

Richard looked up to find his cousin's mind far away. He chuckled again and turned to his other. "Now this is usually what I find your brother like in the mornings."

Quicker than Darcy expected, the weeks passed and December soon came upon them. The society gossips quietened down, and apart from an occasional letter in the hand of Lady Catherine to her nephew, the Darcys never heard the rumours of his marriage again.

One week in the middle of that month the letter that Darcy had been waiting for, came. It was in Charles' usual style, even the birth of his first child seemed to merit no occasion for making the handwriting any neater. It ran as follows:

Darce,

Words cannot express my [blot]iness! It has only been [blot] days and yet there are still times [blot] I have to remind myself that I am a father!...............

Darcy chuckled at this point. He could well imagine Bingley's happiness, it had been infuriating when he was with them in London.

Jane is very well and still as lovely as ever! She is an angel, Darce, an absolute [blot]................

Darcy began to skim read the letter now, before Bingley's praises of Jane threatened to overwhelm him. Briefly he wondered when and if his friend was going to get to the point. He was relieved when, a page later, he finally did.

I know by now, Darce, you will have begun to despair of my ever becoming precise, so I shall do so now without further delay. Robert Edward Bingley was born [blot] days ago! Pronounced to be in excellent health. A Mrs [blot] was there to help, excellent, [blot] highly recommended! Meryton I think knew before [blot] had announced the news, certainly..........

Darcy again adopted a skim reading method, passing the first sheet to his cousin as he did so. Georgiana leant over Richard's shoulder and the two began to it together.

It is [blot]fore, and with [blot] pleasure that I invite [blot] Darce to Netherfield. You are [blot]come as soon as this letter [blot]ches you. No doubt you will most anxious to come. I took the liberty of consulting Jane of the matter you confessed to me and she heartily approves..............

Darcy had difficulty at this point in keeping his composure. No doubt if Mrs Bingley really knew the entire affair she would think differently.

Indeed she has often remarked how silent her sister has been lately. Apparently she has been taking a lot more walks, often to visit us here and having very little to [blot].

This last brought Darcy to his senses. He rang the bell, jumped up, chucked the last of the letter to his sister and almost ran out of the room. It was time to go to Netherfield.

Chapter XX.

A few days after the birth of Robert Bingley, Jane and Mr Bingley invited Elizabeth over to Netherfield. She was to be the first to see him, an event which Mrs Bennet envied greatly.

"He's beautiful, Jane," Elizabeth remarked as she cradled Robert in her arms.

"So, how does it feel, Aunt Elizabeth?" Jane asked her as she sat beside her on the sofa.

"Stranger than I had expected it to," She replied. "However I think it awfully inconsiderate of you not to have a girl first. It seems I must wait awhile longer to teach your children to play the piano very ill."

"Lizzy, you play better than me!" Jane admonished good naturedly. "Besides, you might do that to your own."

"And when am I likely to have them, Jane?"

"Lizzy, what is it that has been bothering you lately? Every time you come over here you seem rather wistful."

"I am," Elizabeth confessed. "You seem so happy, Jane and I wish I could achieve the same."

"But you can and will."

"Will I? This is the only house that was once empty in a neighbourhood that consists of no young, single, good men. No, Jane, I am quite determined to end an old maid."

Jane looked carefully at her sister and for the first time spotted the emotion she had previously missed. "You speak as if you are in love but it cannot be requited."

Elizabeth looked at her sister. Her barriers were slipping she realised, if Jane had noticed that much. She sighed inaudibly. It was horrible lying to her sister and it was coming to a point where it would be impossible. "Yes, I am in love with someone. He has told me that he feels the same, but our situations make it impossible. We cannot help it though. We were lost to it long ago."

"Oh Lizzy, why did you not tell me?"

"I did not wish to crush your happiness."

"Do I know the gentleman? And who is it?"

"You do know him, but I would prefer to keep his name to myself."

"Of course. I would never force a confidence upon you."

"Oh Jane," Elizabeth cried, putting an arm around her, "I did not mean to cause you grief. It is precisely why I did not wish to reveal anything."

"But you cannot keep this to yourself! It is eating you up inside, I can see it."

"Jane, I wish I could tell you all, and perhaps, if it is ever resolved then I will. But if I reveal his name and the full details of the situation between us, you will change your opinion of the man and I would not wish that." Seeing her sister was still persistent, Elizabeth added further, "Jane, it is complicated, long-winded and not easily solvable."

Jane would have protested further but her husband entered, preventing the conversation from continuing. Elizabeth was thankful for his intrusion, for any longer and she would have told Jane everything. She did not want to tell her sister yet, not until she was ready. Mr Darcy was Bingley's oldest friend. To have Jane know this would change her good opinion of him and Lizzy did not want that.

She stayed for hour longer, and then returned to Longbourn. When she had arrived, she skirted announcing her presence by walking around to the garden in order to think some more. She was beginning to regret her words to Jane. As her dearest sister and best friend, she had never been one who did not confide all in her. Why did she not do so now? She sighed. She knew perfectly why, because Mr Darcy was someone whom she would see often because of his friendship with Bingley. Why was life so complicated?

Because we would tire of it easily if it were not, a voice in her head replied back at her. Elizabeth smiled. Darcy had said that to her at Kympton after she had voiced the question aloud. She had returned with explaining that it had been rhetorically meant before all speech had stopped as he touched her lips with his.

I ought to concentrate on the good memories, rather than dwelling on the depressing reality, Elizabeth concluded suddenly, her mind becoming clearer. I will honour the memories of times spent with my love by valuing them for the mere fact of their existence, and try to stop wishing for more of them to occur. Count my blessings, she resolved, and be thankful.

With this resolution in mind she smiled and returned to the house, trying to look for all the world as though she was contented.

Kympton, 18__

"So," he began, several hours later as she lay in his arms. "What was it you were saying?"

"I cannot remember," she replied, turning briefly to kiss his skin. He brought his hand out from behind his head and locked it in one of hers, while the other went to bury itself in her hair. "Elizabeth," he began somewhat reluctantly.

"What is it?" She asked anxiously, detecting his inner turmoil. He hesitated, wondering if he should tell her this.

Suddenly his hand was deprived of its pilgrimage as she turned to face him. "Fitzwilliam, tell me. Tell me what it is that bothers you?"

He looked at her tenderly, letting his free hand cup her face. Slowly he confessed, "I don't want to this ever end."

She smiled back. "Then it won't," she replied simply.

He looked back at her in wonderment. "But.........."

"No," she cut him off. "No, buts. I do not want to hear once more of the realities of our situations or the consequences that this might bring. I do not care about them."

He hesitated, startled. "But," he tried to begin again with and once more she stopped him.

"No, " she repeated, before slipping out of the bed, taking a sheet with her to cover herself.

He lay back stunned. He had never seen her this angry before. "I'm sorry," he replied automatically.

"Do you know what for?"

He paled. "No," he admitted reluctantly.

"Fitzwilliam," she sighed. "I am not able to dwell on the practicalities of this. I know only too well the limits of this affair. I also know that a moment ago you asked the impossible." She turned to gaze out of the window. "Sooner or later, this will come to an end, as much as neither of want it to. I just want to focus on the present, not the future, because the future will have no time for us and if we focus on that we will end up hating each other," she said the last with a choked voice, as she tried to check her tears.

He could bare it no longer. He got up and went to her, wrapping her arms around her. "I am sorry I caused you pain, my love," he began. "You are right. Let's value we have." He buried his face in her hair, kissing every curl he could reach. She turned to face him once more, her control departing as she let him comfort her.

He tightened his embrace as the grief became audible, striving to give her all the comfort he could. He placed soft kisses in her hair, on her neck, and whispered endearments in her ears. He was overwhelmed with the desire to protect her. Memories of his sister's inconsolable grief last year raged through him and instinctively he pulled her closer.

They stood there for quite some time, as she tried to regain back her self control, failing several times. The months of not being able to confide in anyone about this had taken their toll and it would take a while for her to recover.

He sensed this and drew back a little. "I had no right to ask you to come with me. I took advantage of you."

"No," she replied instantly, stroking his face. "No, you did not take advantage of me. You did not make me do anything that I did not want to do. I would have told you long ago if I did not want this to happen." She leant forward and kissed him.

Startled he did not respond immediately. The flames of their desire however, could not stay away and he started kissing her back as they began to increase. Eventually he took control of the fire, moving his lips along her face and neck, then back again as her arms wrapped around his neck.

How long they stood there they knew not. Then he lifted her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.

Longbourn 1812.

A pleasant night of dreams left Elizabeth feeling more happier than she had felt for ages. She got up and dressed herself early, before leaving the house to attend to the still room. Upon entering she saw to her surprise, Kitty already there.

"Kitty?"

"I thought you might need some help as Jane usually does this with you."

"I do need some, thank you," Elizabeth replied, handing her some of the binding.

"How is Jane?" Kitty asked.

"In perfect health and very happy." Elizabeth paused, looking at her sister. Kitty had been so helpful lately, and received little notice or praise. That had to change if they were to keep the effects of Lydia wildness gone forever. "She would love to see you, I'm sure."

"She would?" Kitty blushed with happiness.

"Of course. It is just Mama she would rather not face just yet."

Kitty smiled at that before returning to the lavender.

They returned to the house for breakfast, arriving at the same as their father. Mr Bennet asked instantly after Jane, Charles and Robert, as he had not seen Lizzy until now since the visit.

Elizabeth answered satisfactorily enough, before Mrs Bennet entered, followed by Mary. Just as they had sat down, Hill came in with the mail.

"Ah, Hill is there anything from Lydia?" Mrs Bennet asked.

"Er no, Ma'am," Hill replied, walking over to Lizzy. "This is for you, Miss," she added, handing her the top most letter.

Lizzy glanced quickly at the writing. She saw straight away that it was from her Aunt.

"Well, Lizzy, who is it from?" Mrs Bennet asked eagerly.

Lizzy hesitated briefly, knowing if she told the truth Mrs Bennet might ask to see it. "A reply from a friend of mine in London," she returned.

Mrs Bennet nodded and went back to her breakfast. Elizabeth returned to hers as well, turning the letter over to conceal the handwriting. To dash out and read it now would create suspicion.

It was not until the afternoon that Elizabeth got the chance to return to the breakfast parlour where the letter still lay. A maid was cleaning the table and kindly picked up the letter and handed it to her. Elizabeth managed to take the letter from the maid quite calmly and then waited for her to leave the room before departing herself to the little copse where she was assured of some privacy. She sat down on the bench and broke the seal.

My dear niece,

I have just received your letter and shall devote this whole morning to answering it, as I foresee that a little writing will not comprise what I have to tell you. I must confess myself surprised by your application, I did not expect it from you.

Surprised, Elizabeth repeated, confused. Did her Aunt think that she knew the particulars? Why would she know them? Shaking her head she return to the letter.

Do not think me angry however, for I only meant to let you know that I did not think such enquiries to be necessary on your side. If you choose not to understand me, forgive my impertinence. Your uncle is as much surprised as I am and nothing but the belief of your being a party concerned would have allowed him to act as he has done.

My being a party concerned, Elizabeth was now really puzzled. What could her Aunt possibly mean?

Before she had any time to conjecture as to why her Aunt was of this opinion she was interrupted by her father.

"Lizzy, my dear," he began, "a carriage has arrived for you from Netherfield. Jane wishes you to have dinner with them." Seeing his daughter hesitate he added, "if you do not make haste, your mother will surely see it and insist on coming along."

Elizabeth reluctantly acknowledged that her father was right and put the letter in her pocket before returning to the house to change. She emerged ten minutes later in her green gown, got into the carriage and was away before she had any time to wonder at the early hour.

The letter was still in her possession, but the shortness of the journey prevented a further reading of its contents for all too soon was the carriage at the front entrance to Netherfield.

A footman came out to help her down and answered satisfactorily to her enquiries as to where her sister would most likely be. She thanked him for his assistance and walked into the house.

As she had been invited there was no real need for her arrival to be announced, so it came to pass that she went by herself to the drawing room that the footman had directed her to. She knew Jane would be waiting for her and would no doubt also be interested in what Aunt Gardiner had to say. It was with this in mind that she did not bother to knock before wandering in. Had she done so, she would have been forewarned, but it was not to be.

"Jane," she began upon her entrance, closing the door behind her, "I have it at last......." she trailed off as she finally noticed that Jane was not in the room. She flushed and curtseyed, quickly apologising. "I am sorry, I did not........... excuse me." She turned back to the door, laid her hand upon the knob and began to turn it when suddenly the voice of the single occupant of the room made her stop.

"Wait," said Darcy.

Chapter XXI.

Elizabeth had not meant to hesitate but hesitate she did. His voice still affected her enough for her hand to falter on the doorknob.

Darcy knew that his next words were crucial. That the next words to come out of his mouth could either make her stay or go. Direct, blunt, confession would be best, he decided. "I asked Jane to send for you."

Elizabeth turned round. "What did you tell her?" She asked in a voice struggling to find calm. She was not over him. She would never be over him.

"Only that I was in love with you and that I wanted to see you." Darcy stepped forward. "I'm love with you, Lizzy."

Without noticing, tears began to slide down her face. Her voice lost its control. "If that's true then why are you marrying someone else?"

"If you mean my cousin Anne, I'm not," Darcy replied, taking another step forward. "The only person I want to marry is you, Elizabeth. For the past few weeks you have been in my every thought. Say no if it is to be said. If your feelings are still what they were last April tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged. But one word from you will silence me on this subject forever."

For a moment Elizabeth could only look at him. Then she abandoned all thought and walked, almost ran into his arms. She clung to him in part happiness and part pure relief.

Darcy tightened his embrace. He was as much choked by tears as she. All the worry was over. He would never loose her again. He kissed her hair and then drew back, clasping her face in his hands. He smoothed away her tears and then kissed her.

How long they stood there neither of them knew. Eventually however they parted and went to sit down. There was so much to be discussed.

"How did you learn of the rumours about me and Anne?" Darcy asked her.

"Mr Collins mentioned in his letter. In fact, until then I did not know that Caroline was dead."

"Bingley never told you?"

"No. Nor Jane for that matter. When did it happen?"

"A few weeks after you left. I had just returned from London........" Darcy trailed off as Elizabeth's look turned into a triumphant smile.

"You did help them, did you not? You did help Lydia?" Elizabeth watched him struggle to reply. "Do not try to deny it, Fitzwilliam. Lydia let it slip and I could not rest until I knew the whole. I wrote to my Aunt and only today did I receive a reply. I have yet to read it, but I think I know what the contents will contain. Let me thank you on behalf of all my family........"

Darcy cut her off, bringing his fingers to her lips. "If you will thank me, let it be for yourself alone. Your family owes me nothing. As much as I respect them I believe I only thought of you." His fingers traced the outline of her lips. "I went back briefly, intending to return for the wedding. Not for a minute did I think I would be facing a funeral as well. The house was quiet, unnaturally so. She was already dying when I got there." He paused and then asked, "have you heard of Viscount Huntingdon?"

"Indeed I have," Elizabeth replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Well about a week after I left Pemberley she wrote to him. Apparently they were old acquaintances. The letter more or less offered point blank to have an affair with him. It gave me the perfect thing with which to divorce her, for until then I had nothing. He was still there when I returned."

"Does the man have no decency?"

"Apparently not," Darcy returned before proceeding to tell her the rest of the story. "I could not come till Charles sent word, however much I wanted to," he finished.

"Charles knew?" Elizabeth queried in surprise.

"He knew that I was in love with you but nothing more. I told no one the full details. Did you tell anyone?"

"I never planned to. But after Hunsford Aunt Gardiner came into my confidence. When you left all my control fled. I was inconsolable."

"But you were perfectly justified in your refusal. I had no right, no right at all to ask you then."

"I realised that when I said so, but afterwards I doubted my resolve. When Charlotte returned I practically begged her to fetch my Aunt. She took me to London. I could never hide anything from her and I was in too much of a state to even attempt it. She was a great help. She never wavered in her support." Elizabeth paused, then looked into his eyes. "Despite my anger, I would have supported you."

"In a way I am thankful you did not have to. Divorce is not a shame that can be overcome. I cannot believe I even asked you to consider it. I did not want Society judging you. I still don't. Which is why I need to ask you something."

"To delay announcing this?" Elizabeth guessed. "Of course. May is a lovely month in which to marry."

"May!?!"

"Consider the realities, Fitzwilliam. We cannot delay just a month, that will look far too suspicious. It will take at least two months to prepare the wedding. It is now December, which gives us over eight weeks."

"In that case," Darcy began with a smile, taking her hands in his, "may I be allowed to court you, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, until such a time has elapsed enough to convince the rest of the neighbourhood of the love I feel for you?"

"You may," Elizabeth returned grandly. "Although a fortnight will be enough to convince Mama," she added, as Darcy kissed her hands.

They spent the next few minutes deciding on particulars before moving on to discussing the past that they had spent together. "I never realised until afterwards," Darcy remarked, "how close I had come to admitting my feelings to you."

"Why did you not?"

"I was scared you felt differently. And even if I had it would not have changed matters. If anything it would have made it harder."

"When did you fall in love with me then?" Elizabeth asked playfully.

"I cannot fix upon the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words which lay the foundation. I was in the middle before I knew I had begun. I realised I think when you returned to Hertfordshire before Charles rented this place. When did you know?"

"I knew at Kympton as much as I tried to deny it to myself. I do not know when it began."

Darcy then went on to relate how his cousin had guessed at Hunsford. "He bombarded me until I confessed it was true. He took great delight in telling me that even a blind man could spot it."

Elizabeth laughed at that and then took the opportunity to more into his arms. Darcy enclosed his arms around her.

He began to tell her how much he loved her, how important she was to him.

They began to talk of the future, of the plans they had always imagined, even when other events had seemed to served as omens of doom, but which now could become reality. Both felt safe now, secure in their beliefs that nothing would separate them. They had overcome all the difficulties and achieved what had only months ago seemed impossible.

"How is Lady Catherine going to react to this?" Elizabeth asked after awhile.

"She already knows."

"She knows? How come?"

"She came to London to talk to me about the rumours believing them to be true. I calmly stood my ground and told her that I did not want to marry Anne. She was most displeased," Darcy finished with a slight laugh at the memory. "Of course she left before asking who it was I wanted to marry." He kissed her longingly. "Charles is going to tire of me, for I am not moving from Netherfield until you and I are married."

"But what about Pemberley? And Georgiana?"

"I'm sure I can invite her over and Pemberley can be easily maintained by correspondence. I am never leaving your side again, Lizzy. You are my life and nothing will come between us."

Eventually the conversation turned to what had happened at Netherfield before Elizabeth came over.

"I arrived somewhat unexpectedly early this morning," Darcy began in his reply to Elizabeth's query. "Charles had already told Jane about it all so........"

"Jane knew?" Elizabeth repeated, surprised. "No wonder she was so persistent."

Now it was Darcy's turn to be puzzled. "Why? What happened?"

Elizabeth explained the events of the morning of the day before she had been to see Robert for the first time. "I eventually told her that she knew him but that I would not reveal his name. I also mentioned that I knew you felt the same way which is probably why she persisted so much. Then Charles entered and any further conversation was at an end." Elizabeth sighed. "I ought to tell her all. She deserves to know after doing this for us. We tell each other everything else. If kept this hidden it might wreck our friendship."

"Do you think they would be willing to help us?" Darcy asked.

"I think so, why?"

"I believe I will be needing moral support to get through this," he replied with a grin. "For I had planned a March wedding at the latest."

"And what would society say to that, sir?"

"For one kiss I would no longer give a damn what society thinks," Darcy replied with a wicked grin. He turned to Elizabeth looking expectantly into her fine eyes. "What," he began after a minute, "am I not to be satisfied?"

"If you cannot contain yourself, sir, then I must do so," Elizabeth returned, running a finger down his lips instead. "However, I will attempt to try and ease the wait for you by proceeding to tell you of my very great affection for you."

Darcy kept his smile. "And I happily receive that, my love. And in return I will describe to you the extent of my devotion to you." He bestowed another kiss upon her lips just then, which caused them both to forget the world for a little while. The restraint, however, difficult as it was, had to be observed.

"So," Lizzy began reluctantly, "what are we going to do when Jane and Charles come back in?"

Darcy admitted he did not know what they could do for the thought of that had not entered his head when he had, on impulse, asked Jane to invite Elizabeth over. The two had obviously purposely left them alone in order for them to confess to each other their mutual regard. They had no idea of the full details of them, and that they already knew each others feelings. What could they do?

"We cannot continue as we are," Darcy concluded after some hesitation on his part.

"Yes, that much is certain," Elizabeth agreed. "However we cannot also pretend to be common acquaintances either."

Darcy nodded. "Both of them know that we are in love and have put two and two together about it."

"There is one option," Elizabeth realised after awhile. "I could go and meet them in the garden and pretend I have yet to see you."

"That could work," Darcy agreed before his eyes checked the clock on the mantle place. "Except that we have been talking far too long for that to work." He paused, thinking and then realised the obvious. "We could just tell them. It is what they would be expecting. After all, they set this up in the first place."

"Yes we could just tell them."

"Tell us what?" Mr Bingley asked as he walked into the room with his wife.

Chapter XXII.

Let all other pens dwell on guilt and misery. I quit such odious subjects as soon as I can, impatient to restore everyone to a state of pure bliss.

Elizabeth confided everything in Jane that very night. To say that Mrs Bingley was not surprised would be untrue, for indeed she was most surprised, but other than that she had no objections. The romance of it appealed to her nature and after half a night spent in conversation she became a most willing assistant in their plans.

True to his word Darcy publicly wooed and courted Elizabeth Bennet until such a time had passed as to set the match as credence, although Mrs Bennet had predicted its fruition within a fortnight! At every social evening he sought only Elizabeth's company and stood up with only Elizabeth at every ball. He deployed his diplomacy well, managing to secure the good favour, regard and respect of not just Elizabeth's family but the entire neighbourhood as well.

Mr Bennet gladly gave his consent when it was called for, having expected to be deprived of Elizabeth for quite some time. The loss of his favourite daughter was a considerable burden to bear and for her sake he tried to remedy that by employing himself in the improvement of Kitty and Mary. He also delighted in going to Pemberley, as often as he could and when he was at the least expected.

The Bingleys stayed at Netherfield no more than a year after that. The nearness of Mrs Bennet warranted the move and so they began to look for somewhere else. The estate of their dreams was eventually found in a neighbouring county to Derbyshire, not thirty miles from the Darcys, causing great joy, in more than one quarter.

Elizabeth finally read her Aunt's letter the next day. The answer was no longer a surprise to her, informed as she had been the day before of Darcy's actions in the affair. She was now thankful for its delay for she knew that her state of mind would have not been prepared for it any earlier.

The end of the letter had revealed her Aunt's confidence that an eventually happy union would have come to her niece, and even though it had, Elizabeth knew if she had received the letter any earlier she would have been too cross to reply.

Her Aunt had supposed more than had existed, but now Elizabeth was happy enough to indulge her on the expectations she had speculated. She wrote back instantly, commanding her Aunt to let loose of her fancy and unless she presumed them to be already married, she would not greatly err.

Darcy delayed any correspondence of his until they were officially engaged, whereupon he wrote reams of letters, all expressing an overwhelming happiness and gratitude to be joined to a woman he loved. He received short approving replies from all except his cousin Richard, and Georgiana, whom for both four sides of paper was not sufficient enough to contain their delight.

Richard and Anne eventually married but two months after the Darcys, much to Lady Catherine's displeasure. She denied all knowledge of both families and wrote a letter to her nephew of language so abusive of Elizabeth that for a while all communication between them was at an end. However Elizabeth eventually persuaded her husband to attempt a reconciliation and after a number of years had passed, both families were once again welcomed into the house.

The Darcys were declared to be the most devoted and happiest of couples, and neither ever strayed from the other. His affection for her increased every day and hers always remained constant to his. They never doubted again the love, affection and heartfelt devotion they had for each other. They had five children, a heir and spare, and three girls. All would set the ton alight when their coming outs were set in motion.

The Bingleys likewise enjoyed a happy marriage, although only three children graced their halls. Both families constantly visited the other, always staying for a week or more at the respective estates.

As for Georgiana her home was Pemberley until her marriage at the age of twenty to a wealthy and prosperous gentleman heir to an baronet that adored her as much as she did him. They never strayed far from the reach of the Darcys and constant visits were exchanged on their sides as well.

One final thing should be noted. That is that every year without fail the Darcys would once again grace the halls and ballroom of Lord and Lady Harwood's London abode. They remained always on the most intimate terms with them, both ever sensible of the gratitude that was due to the persons who, by inviting them both to that ball in the first place, had been the means of uniting them.

The End.
© Danielle Harwood-Atkinson 2011.

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