Beginning, Previous Section, Section XI

Chapter 49

Posted on January 10, 2009

Lord Winthrop’s ballroom had grown so silent that everyone heard the heavy breathing of three young men. At this moment, each one had to decide his fate; join with his family and the establishment, or choose his friends and men of knowledge who may actually hold the future in their minds.

The first man to make his decision was Rawlings.

“Well, I for one know I am not abandoning the alliance, Kent. I established trade partners for the East Indies and China locations through my Bostonian connections.” Rawlings moved to stand alongside Kent. He glared at Blake and Darcy. “Are you planning to walk out on us?” Rawlings cast his eyes at the older men. “I will never join them.”

His father approached him, this time Lord Wolverly’s pleading expression had been replaced with one of anger. “Gerald, what are you doing? You belong here. I demand you cease this foolishness.” Lord Wolverly took his son’s arm. “Do not fall into their clutches. Join us. Make me proud. It is your duty. You have obligations to the house of Wolverly.”

Rawlings pulled his arm away from his father’s clutch. “Sorry, Father, but I made my decision the night of my Celebration Ball. I detest everything about your life. I have seen a new world, one that cares not one speck about the order of one’s birth. Merit is all that is required.” He remained alongside Kent. “I shall remain with this alliance.”

Not knowing that the other man was thinking about the same concern, Kent and Rawlings felt unsure of Darcy’s choice. Separately, they had attacked his character with a measure of merciless brutality. Their eyes remained focused on Darcy’s face, hopeful of some sign that their earlier conversations had not forever destroyed their friendship.

Rawlings shook his head, and in a half-whisper, said, “Damn. My own arrogance may have cost the alliance a great deal. I am sorry, Kent. I wish I could retract the words I spoke to Darcy.”

“My comments were no easier for him,” Kent said. And Darcy’s cousin had also unleashed his anger this morning!

“All of us? Oh my God. What have we done? Well, I am sorry, but it does not change my decision. I am with you, regardless of what Darcy decides.”

Kent grabbed Rawlings’ shoulder as Darcy cleared his throat to speak. The room stilled.

Darcy glanced at his friends for a split second before facing Lord Winthrop. “I also have no problem making my decision. It is an easy one for me. I stand with Kent, Bingley and Rawlings. They are my partners and… my friends. I want no part of your group, sir. In fact, the more of the truth I hear, the more disgusted I become.” He was quick to stand next to Kent, who clasped his shoulder.

While Rawlings uttered a sigh of relief, Kent laughed. “No need to mull this decision over and over? Seriously, my friend, I respect you more today than any other time in my life. The Kent family will support us in every way. I promise you their backing. But you are going against your family, Darcy. Are your positive this is the right choice?”

“Without any doubt.”

Winthrop did not seem upset. “So, Darcy, you chose to lead a small band of nobodies instead of taking charge and leading the real power of England. I tried to interest you in this many times. You never listened to me; you treated me as a dithering old fool. Well, you are no longer a member of the Winthrop family. So it shall be. Now I will not just destroy your alliance, I shall decimate it.”

“We do not fear you,” Darcy called out as the other men alongside him mumbled in agreement.

The room suddenly stilled again as all eyes turned to the last man to decide. Blake studied both groups: the larger, more successful and powerful one, filled with men of his own ilk, and the smaller group made up of four men that he had come to know and admire, but supported by men of lower standing.

He had lived with his friends during Cambridge, and stayed at Netherfield when no one of any significant standing in the ton had sought him out. Suddenly at the remembrance of words spoken earlier, a painful stab gripped his heart. He gasped for air before turning his eyes towards Lord Winthrop.

“You stole from the most wonderful woman of my acquaintance. She did not deserve such treatment. She is an innocent, and now her very future has been damaged, and I will never forgive this group for that. And for that reason alone, I will never join you.”

Darcy moved to stand beside his friend to give him encouragement when Blake blocked his approach.

“No, Darcy. You are not without blood on your hands either.”

Darcy stopped abruptly with his mouth agape and his eyes opened wide.

Blake scoffed. “You have repeatedly questioned my honor. I am an honorable man, but you never truly accepted that about me. You believed I was capable of toying with a lady, in fact, ladies. You believed the worst possible things about me; things which had no basis in truth. You never gave me the benefit of the doubt, even after I revealed my family history. You are guilty of that same willful misunderstanding that you accused another of owning. You chose to think ill of me based only on rumor and gossip.”

Darcy took a step closer, but was stopped again.

Blake took several deep breaths. “I know I gave you no easy path to the partnership, with my feelings towards trade, but my arguments were heartfelt and fair.” He pointed to Bingley and Kent with the tilt of his head. “They are inferior in rank and status to me: a marquess and heir to a dukedom. It is not that I think a connection with Kent and Bingley would be a degradation, but they are not my peers. I was born to privilege, and I have an obligation to that privilege. Did you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of these connections?”

Blake began to draw closer to Darcy. He stood toe to toe with his him. “My confession to you of my concerns which prevented my forming any serious connection with the tradesmen was honest and candid. I am not ashamed how seriously I considered the association before deciding to connect myself with such men.”

“Blake—”

"Say no more. This afternoon at Darcy House, you said quite enough to open my eyes, and you showed how insufficient our friendship was to keep you from pursuing someone that I admitted to loving. I will never forgive you for that.”

Blake studied Darcy and the other members of his alliance before turning and fixing his eyes upon Lord Winthrop and his assembly of gentlemen. With a scowl on his face, he announced, “A plague on both your houses.” He left without looking back.

"Good gracious!" Charlotte’s sister uttered, after a few minutes silence as she and Elizabeth sat in the carriage leading them towards London. After a six-week visit, their time at Hunsford had come to an end.

The final week was the most difficult for Elizabeth. Every word that had been spoken and written down in the letter given to her by the most surprising of gentlemen swirled in her head. She found no escape from his invisible presence. Only she could see that he was waiting by the tree when she walked or standing by the pianoforte when they attended to Lady Catherine. In every vision, he held a letter towards her. Why did I take it? Why did I read it? My beliefs would not have been shaken so.

Maria Lucas prattled on about the visit, this being her first journey away from Meryton. “It seems but a day or two since we first came!—and yet how many things have happened!"

"A great many indeed," Elizabeth turned her head to gaze out the window.

"We have dined nine times at Rosings, besides drinking tea there twice!—How much I shall have to tell!"

Elizabeth whispered so low no one would hear. "And how much I shall have to conceal."

The next four hours afforded Elizabeth the opportunity to consider all that passed. Inside the front cover of the book she held in her lap lay the most astonishing letter she had ever received. Her fingers twitched. She wanted to read the words again, even though she spent the nights reading and memorizing every word written and comparing his words in it to every word spoken and every meeting between them.

He is in London. Elizabeth shook her head. I care not where he is. Settling back into the seat, she opened the book without thinking. The letter fell to the floor, and swiftly she leaned down to retrieve it before Miss Lucas could catch sight of the bold penmanship used to write her name.

Clutching the letter safely in her chest to conceal the writing, she leaned back, and then as inconspicuously as she could, returned the letter to the book.

The words rang in her ears as his image appeared, standing before her, tall and proud. I ardently admire and love you. “Phew!”

“Lizzy?”

I beg your pardon, Maria. I… I… was remembering Lady Catherine’s remark about all five of the Bennet girls out at the same time. Perhaps I should return to my book.” When Lizzy opened the book, the verse Blake had recited at dinner flashed on the page.

'Tis liberty alone that gives the flower
Of fleeting life its lustre and perfume,
And we are weeds without it.

Lizzy recalled that Lord Blake had discussed the merits of Cowper and the hidden messages within the words. Strange, he gave me a book of poems of veiled political thoughts. I had expected something that was of less sense and of more sensibility.

She flipped the pages back to the beginning of the book.

'Tis morning; and the sun, with ruddy orb
Ascending, fires th' horizon: while the clouds,
That crowd away before the driving wind,
More ardent as the disk emerges more,

Ardent? Elizabeth wished she could cover her ears as the words bellowed within her head. “I ardently admire and love you.”

Unable to shush the voice in her head, Lizzy slammed the book closed and returned it to her lap; however, the edge of his letter poked out, teasing her with an appeal for another reading. If Maria was not sitting across from me, I would study the words more closely; although this week I have done little else.

She leaned back and closed her eyes, sending a message to her young companion she no longer welcomed any more chit-chat. The quiet in the carriage gave her an opportunity to revisit the conversation; no, the debate; no, the venomous argument.

Who is this man that has no shame for separating Jane and Mr. Bingley? He rejoiced, yes, rejoiced in the effort. Did not Colonel Fitzwilliam call it his triumph? She kept her lips pressed tightly to hold captive any sound of disgust from escaping. I doubt you are rejoicing today at your brilliant offer of… Lizzy sighed. Marriage to me? In love with me all this time? Why I am merely tolerable!

The clicking noise made by the horse hooves filled the carriage. Maria had nodded off with a small smile on her face, while Lizzy’s mouth had turned downward as she recalled more of his words.

Your family is inferior! Lizzy scrunched up her face. Inferior? What did he say? ‘Inferior to any with which I would be expected to seek a connection.’ She sighed again. He spoke the truth; even I did not expect him to lower himself to my level. I am not of his circle.

More words surfaced as she recalled an offer within his proposal. ‘I would accept the consequences by seeking you out.’ Yes, I suppose his family would object if Lady Catherine is the example for the family. She would be seriously displeased. Lizzy chuckled at the image of the older lady ranting at any such announcement. I suppose that would explain why my family would not be included in Fitzwilliam family gatherings, but I do not know if those family gatherings were the only ones he meant. If allowed to attend, my father would be amused with their condescending nature; although why would he want to attend?”

She could not control the shudder and the sense of embarrassment she felt flowing through her body with every remembrance of the picture her family made whenever Mr. Darcy was in their company. But it was when Jane’s calm, unemotional expression appeared, did she begin to fidget in her seat. She felt the increased speed of the beating of her heart. Why did Mr. Darcy think Jane did not have feelings for Mr. Bingley? Insufferable man! Just as quickly, Charlotte’s voice whispered to her, ‘She should show more affection than she feels.’

Understanding that to be true, she attempted to rationalize her sister’s mask of indifference when she knew Jane felt greatly for Mr. Bingley, until Charlotte’s other suggestion caused her to bolt upright. ‘There are very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without encouragement.’ She tapped her forehead with her handkerchief. Apparently Mr. Bingley does not have heart enough, sadly; however it appears that Mr. Darcy… does. I never encouraged him.

Suddenly her mind focused on another man. How big is Lord Blake’s heart? Lizzy whispered, “Mama!” She shook her head. Why would she tell such a falsehood? She wanted the connection! I do not believe this is true.

Elizabeth whispered as she patted the book in her lap, I long to be curled up in the chair in Papa’s library, reading…She gently shook her head. Oh my. I was wrong to accuse Mr. Darcy of mockery.

Having grown tired of the discussion in her head, Lizzy attempted to nap a little before reaching London. Nevertheless, the sounds of the proposal whirled in her mind as she argued, debated, and even chided the condescending attitude of the man expecting a positive response. Silently, she felt her own remorse for the tone and demeanor for every word she had spoken; that is until she heard him say in a defiant timbre in his voice, “Your uncle is the dishonest one!” She stiffened at the sound of the words repeating in her ears. I will tell Uncle Gardiner tonight about his accusation, and I will not conceal how I despise Mr. Darcy for speaking so. He will know what to do to correct this falsehood. This cannot stand.”

“Are you going to hate me too?” Mr. Gardiner cut a piece of cake, placed it on the plate and handed it to one of his favorite nieces. He had heard a full accounting of the accusation about his dishonesty alleged by Mr. Darcy, and he also noted her unusually incensed tone as she spoke. “Lizzy?”

“Why would I hate you?” She took a bite. “I have no reason to find fault with you. It is Mr. Darcy I cannot tolerate. You did nothing to cause alarm.”

“What I did was worse.”

“I do not believe you. No one could have been worse than Mr. Darcy.” When her uncle shook his head, she whispered, “You do not agree?”

“No, I do not. You are angry that Mr. Darcy thought ill of me and said so aloud. I do not know exactly who gave him this accounting of me, but I do know Mr. Cuffage. He is deceitful and cunning. He can convince anyone of his goodness, as I discovered much to my own chagrin.”

“But you did not know his evil ways?”

“Did Mr. Darcy? You have spoken forcibly against the young man, but consider this. Mr. Darcy remained loyal to a man that had been recommended to him by someone who had his confidence. Should you not be more angry with the man that gave the recommendation?”

“Yes, that person should not go unpunished, but then neither should Mr. Darcy be free to repeat what he does not personally know to be true.”

“So then you agree what I did was worse.”

“No! What did you do that was dishonest?”

“Not dishonest, Elizabeth. I was careless with some another man’s money. Your father trusted me, and I recommended and encouraged him to invest his daughters’ money. I convinced him that Mr. Cuffage was worthy; I never properly checked him out. Only after it was too late did I discover the real Mr. Cuffage. Do you not understand?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “Mr. Darcy acted worse. He spoke of you, an honorable man, in such dishonorable words. And once I informed him of the truth, he refused to listen.”

“Do not forget Mr. Darcy has many friends dependent upon his decisions. They trusted him, and he could not take any chances. If it had been me, I would not have listened to you either, preferring to accept the word of men who are paid to know these things.”

“Oh.”

“Since Mr. Darcy heard I had a bad reputation, he rightfully chose not to put his friends in jeopardy. When you are the one in charge, you cannot afford careless mistakes. Now should he have investigated me? Who is to say he did not. I will tell you a secret revealed only to the partners, but I must tell you in order for you to understand. Mr. Cuffage’s son was Mr. Darcy’s secretary – the two men used different names purposely to deceive the world at large, and Mr. Darcy in particular.”

“Oh my! Is this the man that spoke ill of you?”

“I do not know, but I do suspect it was him.”

Lizzy sat for a full minute contemplating all that her uncle revealed. The two of them finished their sweet treat in silence until Mr. Gardiner patted his niece’s hand.

Sighing, Lizzy gazed at her uncle and lifted her brows. “When you explain it in that light, I will acknowledge there is some merit to his opinions. Even though, he should not have called you dishonest.”

“Now, my child. Mr. Darcy’s only failing was once he made up his mind, it was made up forever. You have said even he recognizes that as a failing of his. So, he never allowed his first impression of Mr. Cuffage to be corrected. I think he has had to rethink that trait, do you not agree? Elizabeth, he was merely loyal to his friends. In fact, he seems to be one of the most loyal men I have ever met.”

“Perhaps in business.”

“One more argument—”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Darcy has asked I be a full partner in his alliance. Would he do that if he was not sincerely sorry for his disrespect?

“A partner?”

“Oh, yes. A full partner. I am treated as an equal. It will be a rich association, too. I cannot believe my great fortune to be so closely connected to the Kent family and to the heir himself!”

While finishing their cake, Mr. Gardiner revealed how the young men had formed an alliance while staying at Netherfield Park. He described the other alliances, the one that had been in place for hundreds of years. But he caught Lizzy’s interest when he told her that last week three of the men had to choose between the two groups. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Rawlings turned away from their families and stood by the men of trade and science. Although he did not expound upon the reason, which he thought would cause his niece distress, he did indicate that Lord Blake chose neither group and also broke all connections with Mr. Darcy.

Elizabeth kept her eyes down on her plate when her uncle discussed Lord Blake’s decision. She felt the flush rising on her cheeks, and did not regain her composure until he patted her hand. “I am astonished. I am happy for you. Still, my father’s—”

“Mr. Murdoch, owner of the Gas Light Company, will be joining us for dinner tonight. He has worked out a plan to secure your father’s funds.”

“He should!”

“My dear, Lizzy. You must not be so harsh. Mr. Darcy’s alliance has offered to assist Mr. Murdoch in the advancement of his gas lighting endeavors. Can you not guess now who actually was behind the scheme to recover your dowry?

“Mr. Darcy?”

“Yes. He felt a sense of obligation.”

Elizabeth scoffed. “Why. This did not happen because of him.”

“But Mr. Cuffage worked for Mr. Darcy’s great uncle, Lord Winthrop, who was the mastermind behind the whole plot.”

“Oh my! Did Mr. Darcy know?”

“No, and not only did he not know about this, his great uncle pursued every avenue to destroy his alliance. It seems he wanted Mr. Darcy to work for his venture; one with only the highest ranking of men as partners; a group I would never be allowed to join.”

“His own relative deceiving him! I must think for a while. This is just too much for me to digest.”

Do not take too long. Miss Darcy has invited you, Jane, and my wife to tea tomorrow.”

“No!”

“I will be leaving for Birmingham tomorrow, along with all the other partners. Our ladies will spend time together while we are gone, and that includes you! I believe Mr. Darcy asked specifically that you be included. He mentioned how much he desired that you meet his sister.”

As Mrs. Gardiner, Jane, and Elizabeth climbed the front steps of Darcy House, Elizabeth took in its grace and beauty. The limestone and terra cotta brick building seemed immense compared to other houses on the square, but not in any showy way. The doorman appeared and acted exactly as she assumed would any a gentleman of great wealth would employ. But when she stepped inside, she could barely control her admiration. The spacious lobby was lofty and handsome, with furniture neither gaudy nor uselessly fine, which spoke of the master’s real elegance.

Miss Darcy approached the ladies, after which the proper introductions and civilities were made. As they climbed the stairs to the great room, Elizabeth studied the young girl, and five minutes had not passed before she realized the girl was shy and not haughty. Another lie told by Mr. Wickham. She gasped when she realized what could have happened to such a sweet young girl, and felt anger towards the man she previously had admired. Wickham was not gentleman-like at all!

“Elizabeth, are you well? You look pale.” Jane took her sister’s hand in hers.

“I am well... I have a sudden headache. I… merely need to rest a moment.”

Mrs. Annesley tapped Georgiana’s arm, and she, in turn, stepped closer to Elizabeth. “Let me show you to a quieter room next to where we will be. It has a comfortable chair and a warm fire. I will send for some wine.” She led Elizabeth to a small room. “Would you like your aunt or sister to stay with you?”

“Thank you, but no. I am but next door, and will be fine. I just need a few moments of quietness.”

The furnishings were bright and the walls painted in a pale yellow. The silk upholstery was striped in blue and yellow with a touch of white. The tables held beautiful sculptured pieces and small items made of crystal. A timepiece ticked away on the mantle. A fire had been lit, not too high but enough to give the room a cozy feeling. Books lined a small bookcase, and on the desk lay the most unusual writing instrument she had ever seen.

Fascinated, Elizabeth placed the pen in her fingers as if she was going to write a letter.

Miss Darcy joined her. “That is a steel dip pen. They are very new. Have you ever used one before?”

“No. This surely must save mending.”

“Yes, my brother insisted all our quills be replaced with these pens. Mr. Kent brought them back from one of his journeys north to Birmingham.” Georgiana retrieved some paper from the drawer and opened the ink well. “Try it. It is wonderful.”

Elizabeth dipped the pen slowly before writing her name on the paper. “It is very smooth. I like it very much.”

“My brother suggested that the inventor find a way to add the ink in a container right on the pen. No dipping, he says! I laughed and teased him about being lazy! What is so hard about dipping your pen?” The two girls laughed, but Elizabeth studied the pen for such an opportunity.

Georgiana led Elizabeth to a comfortable looking chair, just as a servant entered carrying a glass of wine on her tray.

With her guest seated and sipping her wine, Georgina moved to the door. “I must return to my other guests, but I will come back shortly. Or you may join us when you feel better.” Georgiana pointed to the connecting door with her head.

When Elizabeth attempted to rise, the young mistress motioned for her to remain seated. “My brother will be very distressed if you were not cared for in his home. He is the best of brothers. He had this room fitted up just for me after I remarked how much I enjoyed the morning sun in here. He suggested pale yellow as the color. He said it reminded him of a dance, and that it has become his favorite hue. Some days he comes here to sit and think. He closes his eyes and a smile appears.”

"He is certainly a good brother." Elizabeth felt the heat rising on her neck and cheeks as she recalled the gown she wore to the Netherfield ball.

"And this is always the way with him," she paused as she tried to conceal the smile from forming when she spotted the blush on her guest’s face. "Whatever he can do to give me pleasure, he does in a moment. There is nothing he would not do for me or anyone he admires, and I love him for that."

“And I am sure he loves you. I never had a brother, only four sisters. I am quite jealous of you now.”

“I would have liked a sister.”

“Be careful in your wishes. Some sisters are silly girls.” Smiling, Elizabeth took another sip, leaned back and snuggled in the cushion. “I will be better after a short rest. I will join you soon.”

“Do not hesitate to ask for anything you wish.”

Georgiana left, but neglected to close the door to the hallway behind her. Within minutes, two young maids appeared in the hallway, their voices carrying into the room. However, before Elizabeth could make her presence known, she heard one of the servants mention Mr. Darcy.

“You are fortunate Mr. Darcy did not dismiss you when that letter was lost. He was as angry as I have ever seen.”

“I did fear it. I can’t think of what may have happened to me if I was dismissed. Why didn’t he?”

Elizabeth, intrigued by the question, moved closer to the door.

“He is best master in all the land, that is why. Do you not know there are hundreds of girls wanting to work here? He takes care of every one of us.”

“He does pay the best wages.”

“He does more than fill your purse. He will take care of you if you are in trouble.”

“Bah. Rich men do not care about the likes of us.”

“Look what he did for the maid before you, and tell me he is not the best of masters.”

“She was let go because she was with child. I heard them say he made her leave, and her husband just recently dead. That is not a good master.”

“Do not be a silly goose. Mr. Darcy sent her to live in Pemberley. He found her a home where she and her baby will be cared for, and paid her wages even though she could not work.”

“Maybe he likes the girl more than you know? Perhaps the child is his.”

“Hush! Do not speak about the master that way. He is a gentleman. He treats all the girls as a gentleman aught to. Go work for Lord Atterton. He fits the type of master you are talking about. Not our Mr. Darcy. The poor girl was with child when she came to work here after her husband’s carriage accident. She did not know she had a baby coming.”

“Oh. “I suppose we should be more worried if he marries.”

“Gad! I cannot bear to think of it. What if he marries one of those haughty society ladies? They are always trying to be friends with Miss Darcy just to be near him. I do not know who is good enough for him.”

The new maid turned to face the other. “The master has not smiled once since he came back from visiting his aunt’s.”

“Well, he did smile at Miss Kent. She is a sweet one. He could marry her.”

“Ah, yes! A sweet girl she is, and very nice to everyone. I like her, and she comes here often with her brother. Miss Kent is handsome too. She would look good on the master’s arm. She has come for tea today, but our master is gone away—”

“Girls! Stop talking and get back to work or I will have you scrubbing pans for a week.” Mrs. Geoffries voice boomed as she stood with her arms crossed, her eyes glowering and the corners of her mouth turned down.

Elizabeth leaned against the wall. Miss Kent? Mr. Darcy? She had not time to imagine Mr. Darcy with another lady when she heard a knock at the door.

Elizabeth waved in the housekeeper standing at the partially opened door.

“Miss Bennet. I came to ensure you are not ill.” Mrs. Geoffries drew near Elizabeth.

“I was just returning to the others, I only needed a moment to rest. I am better now.”

“Mr. Darcy left word to take special care of you. I will not let you leave this room until I am satisfied.” She touched her forehead to determine if there was a fever.

“No, no. I am well.” Elizabeth moved her hand to smooth her gown when she remembered she still held the metal tipped pen. Advancing to the desk to return the pen to its place, she spied a cameo of a young man in a frame with a striking resemblance of Mr. Darcy.

“That is Mr. Darcy. And do not you think him a very handsome gentleman, Ma'am?” Mrs. Geoffries handed the cameo to Elizabeth

“Yes, very handsome.”

With a twinkle in her eye, Mrs. Geoffries stared at Elizabeth Bennet, whom her master specifically mentioned several times. “I am sure I know none so handsome.” She placed the cameo of her master back in place and glanced sideways at the young lady’s suddenly reddened cheeks. “I am lucky in having such a master. If I was to go through the world, I could not meet with a better. But I have always observed that they who are good-natured when children are good-natured when they grow up; and he was always the sweetest-tempered, most generous-hearted, boy in the world.”

Elizabeth almost stared at her. Can this be Mr. Darcy?

“He is the best master that ever lived. Not like the wild young men now-a-days, who think of nothing but themselves.” Mrs. Geoffries tuned to face Elizabeth. “There is not one of his servants, but what will give him a good name. Some people call him proud; but I am sure I never saw any thing of it. To my fancy, it is only because he does not rattle away like other young men.”

Elizabeth nodded her head slowly as she peeked at his cameo on the desk.

Mrs. Geoffries revealed a tiny smile before moving to the door. “Would you like to join the others now?”

“Yes, please.”

Mrs. Geoffries led her into the music room, where Jane was conversing with Mrs. Annesley and Mrs. Gardiner. Georgiana and Miss Kent were sitting at the pianoforte.

She is beautiful, Elizabeth’s chest tightened as she admired the most handsome woman beside the young hostess. The beauty lifted her head, whispered to Miss Darcy, and then rose from the bench. The young lady also jumped up, knocking the sheet music to the floor.

Elizabeth ran to help retrieve the music and the three women bumped heads as they grabbed for all the wayward sheets. They stood, exchanged civilities, and then laughed together when the one remaining sheet slipped from the piano.

That night, Jane slid under the covers with her sister. “Miss Darcy is a sweet girl. I think Mr. Bingley will be very happy with her.”

“Bah! She has no interest in him. Did you hear her mention his name once?”

“That would have been impolite. I am resigned. Miss Kent was so interesting; I like her. Perhaps, Miss Bingley has a rival.” Jane chuckled.

“Miss Kent is not a rival because Miss Bingley is not even being considered. Mr. Darcy has…”

“What is it Lizzy? You have been withdrawn ever since you returned from Hunsford. What happened? Did Mr. Collins say anything impolite? He can be a little foolish at times.”

“No. In fact, he was kind. In his own way, he tried to put me at ease before I met Lady Catherine. Mr. Darcy said some things that left me perplexed, upset, and a little angry. I am astonished beyond words.”

“You must tell me now. Did he say you are even less than tolerable? Did he refuse to dance with you again?”

“Stop! What he said has caused me to not want to go home.”

Jane bolted upright. “Why. What happened?”

“Mother. She is the problem.”

“What did she do? Did she write a letter telling Mr. Darcy he is a horrible man? She detests him, you know.”

“Worse. She lied to Lord Blake.”

“When?”

Lizzy got up and retrieved her handkerchief with the broken chess pieces in it. “Remember when I told you how Lord Blake did not wait for me.”

“Yes. And he left a crushed knight behind.”

“I thought he had abandoned me, but I learned he came to the house looking for me when I did not meet him that day.”

“No! I am astonished that you did not know. I never thought he was a man without honor. But why did you not see him? I do not understand.”

“You were visiting with the Lucases. Remember, Mama forced me to stay in my room to contemplate marriage to Mr. Collins, and then she lied to Lord Blake when he called on me. She told him I had run off to London to avoid him. Mama lied.”

Jane jumped up and held her sister in her arms. They stood together for many minutes, the ticking of the clock and the crackling of the fire filled the room with the only sound. “You may cry on my shoulder, Lizzy, if it will help.”

“No. I feel only anger and… embarrassment.”

Jane straightened a wayward curl on Lizzy’s neck. “How did Mr. Darcy come to tell you this?”

“I accused him of separating Lord Blake from me. Since he believes we are beneath him, I supposed he felt I was not worthy for his friend. But that does not make any sense when you consider he asked…” Lizzy placed her hand on her mouth.

Why would you speak of Lord Blake to Mr. Darcy? How did this come about?

“Oh, dear, sweet sister! I cannot talk of this now. So many things are not the way I believed. I am confused. People I trusted are not trustworthy and someone I found despicable is perhaps the most honorable of men. I must never again be so quick to judge, or to think I am extraordinarily wise. I must think before I speak.”

“Oh.” Jane turned away, her shoulders slumped.

Lizzy hugged her sister. “Mr. Darcy proposed.”

“Proposed! I can scarcely believe it. But you refused?”

“Yes. You do not blame me, however, for refusing him?"

"Blame you! Oh, no. Is it because you still have hope for Lord Blake?”

“I refused Mr. Darcy based on my feelings towards him. When I spoke I did not consider Lord Blake at all. I promise I will share more with you soon. Give me a little time to overcome my anger, my hurt, and even my astonishment. I must consider everything before I come to any conclusions. Tomorrow, we return to Longbourn, and I must decide what to say to Mother, if I bother to say anything at all. What is done is done, and I cannot change the fact that Lord Blake and I will never see each other again.

“Did you tell Mr. Darcy that you had not gone to London? Perhaps he will convey that to his friend.”

“No. I never mentioned to him that I was at home that day, I only asked him why he separated Blake from me. His letter explained what Mama said. Now it is too late to for Lord Blake to hear the truth. He and Mr. Darcy have dropped their association with each other. Truthfully, I doubt if Mr. Darcy would have wanted to say anything since he, himself, proposed to me. And after speaking to Uncle and spending a day at Darcy House, I am no longer clear in my mind who…”

“Did you say Mr. Darcy wrote you a letter?”

“Yes.” Lizzy forced a yawn. “I am tired and my head aches. Please, no more questions. I wish to go to bed. I will explain more once we are in our own bedchambers in Longbourn.” The two girls jumped into bed; Jane blew out the candle, and with their backs to one another, they both pretended to sleep.

Chapter 49B

Posted on January 20, 2009

During the week that followed the two most eventful days of his life, Darcy spent his available time on the business of the alliance. He could not take the time to reflect on everything that had happened, as he and everyone connected to his alliance needed to move quickly to shore up the contracts and protect the business.

Once the dust had settled and everyone believed they were on good footing to forestall the Falcon, Darcy and the partners, except Bingley, left for a tour of the Soho Manufactory. Bingley had returned north with his Uncle Watt and Samuel Gaston immediately after the showdown, to monitor the progress on the manufacture and distribution of the modified Baker Rifle. Even Lord Liverpool would not deny the army the use of these guns, so the Falcon did not force the cancellation of the order.

The entire week spent in Birmingham had been enlightening; Darcy learned of the depth of the prestige held by the tradesmen for the Kent family; and that the strength of their business was beyond his belief. Between the Kents and the Boultons, he doubted any other family could have acquired such a hold on the production and manufacturing of such a variety of products or even could have become the masters of the buying and selling of goods. But it was witnessing the method used for the treatment of the workers that caused Darcy to truly admire them. Much like the respectful and caring manner in which he treated his own tenants, did the Kents and Boultons treat their own employees.

The trip was a diversion from his day of self-discovery, but only to a point. Darcy caught himself wondering about Elizabeth's visit to his home. Before he had left, Georgiana had asked to invite Gardiner's wife and nieces for tea. He agreed, but also suggested she include Miss Kent in the group, which made his sister hug him tightly and whisper how sorry she was for her recent outburst. He had left strict instructions with his staff that anything the ladies desired was to be provided, and in particular Miss Elizabeth Bennet's wishes. He directed not even the simplest of requests go ignored. All week, he had fretted about the tea.

When he returned to London, he almost ran up the stairs to find his sister and to discover if Elizabeth had even come. His heart filled with joy as Georgiana expressed her own admiration of Elizabeth. Not only had his sister found her to be beautiful, but she admitted Elizabeth's interpretation of the sonnet she played on the pianoforte was expressive in ways that her own was not. She told her brother how kind she had been to Miss Kent and how she had treated all the servants with great respect. Darcy ached with every word, but still he would not stop Georgiana from speaking of her. When his sister mentioned how much she liked the new pen, he had a pen sent immediately for every member of the Gardiner family, nieces included.

Mrs. Geoffries had also been quick in detailing every second of their time together. Ill? Was it because of me that caused her to seek a room to compose herself? He imagined her holding his cameo and felt a sense of relief that she had even touched it.

Now that the business was set on its proper course, he recognized the moment had arrived to make a full assessment of his life; a harsh honest look that could not be delayed any longer.

First, he worried how Georgiana would react to his shutting himself up, so he spoke only once to his sister, informing her he had to resolve a problem facing him. He warned her that the magnitude of the situation was so great, he may even do the unthinkable--speak out loud. He assured her it would be the only way to find the answers. He did not wish to cause worry or concern to her or the servants, but he explained he must be able to argue aloud.

Seeing the dullness in his eyes, Georgiana touched his arm. "I understand, dear brother. I will see that you are not disturbed."

Safely behind locked doors, alone with his pen and papers and brandy, he began the search for the truth. In the beginning, he denied everything everyone said. He was not at fault, they were. His routine did not change. He spent his days locked in his study and his nights locked in his bedchamber. Meals were delivered to his room on trays, and most were returned with barely a morsel removed.

Every day he saw them. He could make out their irate faces and hear their harsh words. As they made their accusations, he yelled back, not caring if anyone could hear his shouts beyond the door. But as the days continued, his angry reactions subsided and were replaced by a round of arguing and finding reasons for what he did. This lasted for a day or two. Even he could not find justification for some of his actions. He grew quieter than was usual for him. He refused to let his manservant shave him or even change his clothing. After two days in the same outfit, he finally relented, but he had the reflecting mirror removed from his bedchamber. He had discovered he could not stand to see the person whose image appeared when he stood in front of it.

Darcy sat locked in the study early one evening, and after he had consumed more brandy than what was wise; he nodded off into a deep sleep in his comfortable chair. Within seconds, he found himself transported to a strange room at the end of which stood a long bench, and where a man dressed in black, wearing a gray wig, sat with a gavel in his hands. Darcy strained to identify the man, but could not. The face was blurred, except for a pair of sparkling blue eyes.

The judge banged his gavel on the bench. The room hushed as a bailiff stood in front of the bench and bellowed, "Hear ye, Hear ye. Order in the Court. The Trial of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy is about to begin."

Feeling himself slumping, Darcy grabbed onto the handrail in front of him. He was in the Assizes Court, the highest trial court in the nation, and standing in the box assigned to the accused. As he looked down at his person, he realized he had been stripped of any sign of his wealth and prestige. Darcy looked to his right. The room was full of every known acquaintance, and unfortunately, he could not detect a single smile on any of their faces. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped as the man read the charges.

"The Grand Jury has formally indicted said person for crimes against his fellow man. Five citizens have charged him with arrogance, willful misunderstanding, conceit, slander, knife attack, vanity and pride. How do you plead?"

Darcy opened his mouth to speak, when Rawlings appeared from nowhere, leaned in and whispered, "Say not guilty. Do not admit your guilt, otherwise you will be led outside, shackled to your offenses and left all alone for the rest of your life. Defendants must prove their innocence against the evidence presented by the prosecutors. Perhaps one day in the future it will be reversed, but in the year 1812, this is the way it is."

"Who are the prosecutors?"

"Those hurt by your actions and deeds. Victims are always the prosecutors."

"Am I entitled to a lawyer?"

"You may hire one if your wish. Shall I notify… Mr. Phillips from Meryton? He knows you well!"

Darcy violently shook his head. "No. I interrupted him when he attempted to warn me, and I fear he would relish a guilty verdict. Could you do it?"

"No, I cannot." Rawlings prodded Darcy with his finger. "Enough. Say not guilty and let the trial commence. You must offer a defense and accept the consequences if you wish to be free."

With a slight crack in his voice, Darcy looked up to the judge and said, "Not Guilty."

The crowd murmured, and Darcy could hear sniggering among the twelve members of the petty jury sitting to his left. Darcy felt a stab in his chest as he made out their faces--all men he had met at Meryton, with Sir William Lucas as the foreman.

"Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, please rise and give witness to your charge," the bailiff announced.

Darcy rose to his full height and watched his cousin move toward the witness stand. Richard had not glanced his way until situated behind the wooden podium.

"My cousin is an arrogant cur and--"

"I am not!!" Darcy yelled.

The judge banged the gavel down. "Do not interrupt, or I shall end this trial with a guilty verdict. You will be given an opportunity to question the witness, but at the appropriate time. Continue, Colonel, but do not use vulgar words."

The colonel nodded, and sent a charming smile to the judge, causing his blue eyes to sparkle brighter. "My cousin gave not a single moment's thought to delaying my return to London. I had made plans that were important to me. He assumed, arrogantly, he did not need to consult with me before changing the departure date. I was not worth the trouble."

When the judge motioned for Darcy to begin his questioning, he again struggled to identify the man behind the vaguely familiar blue eyes, but could not. The gray wig that the judge wore covered too much of the face. He turned his attention to his cousin, and caught sight of the smirk upon his face. He heard his cousin's voice in his head as he recalled the carriage ride home. 'You do as you wish and leave it up to me to follow.'

"Richard, you did not have to stay with me! I did not force you to do so! You could have left at any time."

"By post?"

"I would have provided you with my carriage if you had asked. You did not ask."

"True. But then you never were interested in my life; and your not knowing about my plans proves it."

"Humph." Darcy caught the word in his throat and drew the back of his hand across his mouth. I will rid myself of this word from my very being!

"Mr. Darcy?" The judge banged the gavel. "Do you have any more questions?"

"No further questions." Darcy glowered at his cousin as he stepped down. And then he noticed that his cousin walked with a decided limp. Was he injured on the continent? Ah, Richard you are worthy of my attention. Why did I not know about your orders. Why did I not ask him questions about his life? He felt an ache flow through his body as he realized his cousin no longer wore his uniform. What will he do now?

The bailiff rose. "Mr. Stephen Kent, please rise and offer your testimony."

Kent entered the witness stand. "I charge him with willful misunderstanding and conceit. Mr. Darcy did deliberately, and without cause, falsely accuse me of courting his sister. He also treated the Kent family rudely by not acknowledging their worthiness. He ignored my sister and imposed upon my aunt by not notifying her of a delay in his visit. With conceit in his heart, he looked upon me and all the Kents and Boultons as underlings."

The room grew quiet.

"Mr. Darcy! Mr. Darcy, you may cross-examine him now." The judge banged the gavel again. "Mr. Darcy!"

Darcy had closed his eyes and sighed loudly before he opened them. "Kent. I cannot believe how fairly I treated you, and yet you believe this of me. Did I not let you partner with me?"

"To use your word, humph."

Darcy leaned over the railing. "You do not get off so easily. Why did you even bother to partner with me? Oh yes, you were using me to get to Victoria. You pretended to be a man wooing my sister."

"Perhaps, but would you have offered assistance? Speaking of sisters, when you attended the Lunar Society Meeting at Bingley's did you show any kindness to my sister?"

Darcy glared at Kent. "I did not know she was there. Did you introduce me? No. You did not. But…" Darcy ran his fingers through his hair. But, why did I not suggest introductions to all the guests? Why? Did I ignore everyone but the men of science? I cannot believe I treated the ladies that way.

"But what?"

"No further questions." Darcy hung his head and stared at the floor as his partner stepped down. Lost in his thoughts, he missed the announcement of the next man that had now found his way into the witness stand.

"My friend suffers from an overabundance of conceit." Rawlings turned his head away from the judge and towards Darcy. "All you ever worry about is you. How does everyone treat you? Everyone wants something from you. Well, you owe us an apology, my friend."

Darcy lifted head to address the friend who was gazing directly at him without any anger in his eyes. "Rawlings, you are mistaken. I worry about everyone, not the other way around. The truth is that no one ever thinks of me, nor do they care about any of my burdens. They just see me as a bag of coins. They do…" When Rawlings sent him a questioning look, Darcy thought, Or do they? Am I really only worried about me? My God!

After a moment of silence while Darcy contemplated his actions with other people, the faceless judge banged the gavel. "Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy shook his head and then let his chin drop down. "No further questions."

The bailiff spoke. "The Most Honorable Robert Allen, Marquess of Blake, state your case."

When Blake quickly replaced Rawlings, in the witness stand, Darcy released a deep sigh. He could not imagine mounting any defense against this man. He knew the accusations would be truthful. He knew he was guilty.

Blake cleared his throat and in a calm voice said, "He lied. He lied to me, and then stabbed me in--"

"When did I lie?" Darcy yelled. He recalled every instance where he had spoken to Blake since they met up at Netherfield and could not find a single spoken lie.

The judge's gavel hit the bench so hard not a single soul misheard the sound. "Do not interrupt, Mr. Darcy. This is your last warning!"

Darcy nodded.

Blake glared at Darcy. "He told us Miss Elizabeth Bennet had hardly a good feature in her face, more than one failure in her form, and her manners were not those of the fashionable world. And when asked if he thought she was a beauty, his exact words were 'She a beauty! I should as soon call her mother a wit!' You see, he lied from the very beginning. And then he stabbed me in the back."

"Explain the circumstances, Lord Blake," The judge said. "I heard of no physical injury."

"Perhaps not physically, but he pushed that hard, cold blade between by shoulder blades by his actions. He attempted on several occasions to dissuade me from pursing Miss Elizabeth Bennet. He interrupted--"

The entire room chuckled.

"He interrupted my proposal. He did so deliberately and used that moment to separate her from me. And I recently discovered," Lord Blake leaned forward and pointed his finger at the forlorn former friend in the accuser box, "you then sought her out and proposed. The woman you said was barely tolerable. You lied."

"Mr. Darcy? You may cross examine Lord Blake now."

The spectators and jury stilled. Darcy's breathing could be heard, although his head hung low, and when he attempted to speak, no words came out. I lied to him. I lied to all of my friends. I lied to myself. I loved her from the instant I first saw her, and I manipulated things to keep Blake from getting her.

Finally, he shook his head and the Marquess left the stand. Just when he thought there could be nothing more hurtful charged against him, he heard her name announced. He slumped in the accused box.

"Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

Darcy's heart beat furiously, and his palms felt damp. The sweat rolled down his back. He pulled at his cravat, coughing repeatedly. A solid gray fog enveloped the room, shielding him from her accusatory gaze.

"He was ungentleman-like in the words he used."

The judge sputtered, "Did he use vulgar words?"

"No." Elizabeth sent the judge a sweet smile. "He could have behaved in a more gentleman like manner, but he chose to describe the Bennets in the most unflattering terms. I cannot forget what he said, although some of it was truthful. No true gentleman would ever say such things. But he thinks his beliefs were natural and just."

Darcy felt the insides of his throat tighten. What poppycock! What I said was not natural and just. Darcy felt a stab in his heart with each thought that floated through his head: degradation, inferiority, scruples, rejoice in my success, contempt and ridicule, so evident a design of offending and insulting me."

"Mr. Darcy?"

"Yes, your honor, but I am fully aware she has more to say; let her continue."

"I have no other charge."

The grey fog lifted as Darcy stared at her holding a cameo of him. She read my letter! She read my letter. He felt a sense of relief that she had accepted what he had written.

"Mr. Darcy?" The judge spoke louder this time. "Mr. Darcy!"

"I am guilty, your honor, of all charges. Guilty. Do with me as you wish. Give me the sentence I deserve. I cannot bear any more truth." Darcy hung his head and covered his eyes until the judge called for his attention. When he looked at the judge he choked on his own breath as he could clearly see the judge's face, but it was not the face of a man but the face of an angel. Jane Bennet? Oh my god. After what I did to separate Bingley from her, I shall surely be strapped to my offenses for the rest of my lonely life.

She smiled at him with the most comforting smile he had ever received. "The verdict is guilty by your own admission. You sentence is hereby, to make amends to each one, Mr. Darcy. And change your ways. You have the strength of character to do so."

As she banged the gavel down Darcy woke up and found himself safely back in his study.

Accepting that he owned every accusation, he thought about each person and the steps he would need to take. This fortnight had been worse than any other two weeks of his life, and yet at the end of it, he felt peace, almost a return to the days before his father had died.

"Richard, please return to England unharmed, so I may apologize properly." Darcy whispered, and then he thought about Georgiana's letter from Richard. Only one had arrived, but enough to indicate the danger he faced daily. "I must make amends. I must find a way. I will begin with a letter. Damn. It seems I am always writing letters to explain myself!"

Darcy pulled out his stationary, pen and ink. He was quick, since he did not use any four or five syllable words other than the two that needed to be said: apologize and supercilious. He admitted he was as Richard had said, supercilious. But that was not the only apology he rendered in the message. He wrote a heartfelt letter about how he planned to treat their relationship in the future, and ended by thanking him for his honesty.

Darcy stretched his body and then thought about his treatment of another man. "Kent, I cannot believe I would treat such a man as you as unimportant. How could I tell you that? How could I have said that you were not important? But I did believe that. Without you, there could not be an alliance. You, it seems, are more important than I am."

Darcy considered ways to show his friendship to this man. "I will host a dinner party and invite all of Kent's family. I will show even greater respect than I did on the trip to Birmingham. I will even speak at great length to his sister. And I will play a prank on her and it will not be spiders in the bed! Kent, you are not clever in that way, but I can be devious along those lines. Did not Richard discover that side of me? Ah, Kent, we can have such fun, and I will ensure you get your revenge on her." Darcy laughed aloud for the first time in many days.

He dashed off a message for delivery early the next morning to Kent. He would not delay or postpone this dinner for any reason.

He realized Bingley and Blake presented the toughest obstacles to righting his wrongs. He would speak to Rawlings, and seek his advice and show him he has addressed the issues he raised. He would call upon his friend at his home that very next day. With his plans made, he retired for the night, and slept peaceably for the first time in a long time.

Darcy sighed deeply when he approached Rawlings' townhouse, realizing it was the first time he had entered it. Whenever he had wished to speak with his friend, he had always summoned him. Why Rawlings came, he could not fathom. With a heavy heart, Darcy presented his card to the butler.

"Darcy, come in. Welcome. I am pleased you have called upon me. Let us go to the study. It is quiet and private there. I have missed our talks."

As he entered the study, he sensed the calm he had missed the past fortnight, although nothing was in its proper place in the room. Rawlings' desk was larger than his own, but he could at least see the top of his own desk. Here, papers were piled about in a haphazard fashion. There was a coffee cup and a tea cup resting on different stacks. Several newspapers were strewn about, and Darcy could tell they were several days old. But the room was filled with warm colors: greens and blues with a smattering of gold.

Darcy caressed the dark leather on the sofa, which matched the two chairs. Gold studs outlined the furniture, and he found the material warm to the touch. He sent Rawlings a questioning look.

"Spain. My mother's grandfather was Spanish. I loved his leather furniture. Perhaps we both are of Spanish descent."

Darcy's eyes caught sight of the cabinet along the far wall, where many bottles of Oban whiskey were visible on its shelves. "You have not touched your prize?"

"I cannot stand the stuff. Would you care for some? You are welcome to all of it, but for one. I need a bottle to remind me of what could have been. An Andalusian!"

"The symbol of strength and power. Ironic! Do you not agree with how things have changed?"

"How so?"

"Remember when we watched the rowing race between the aristocrat and the tradesman, fighting for this symbol of strength and power as the prize."

"But Blake won, and the aristocrats are still in power. Where is the irony?"

"The world is changing, and I fear we have reached the point where the change is permanent. Our alliance is the example." Darcy chuckled as Rawlings' curious expression continued. "When we started, there were three members from aristocratic families, with only two tradesmen's sons as partners. Blake won the horse, suggesting that the power still rested with the aristocrats. Today, we have three tradesman partners, and only you and me, neither one, a titled member of the nobility. We reside on the outskirts of that rank; I being the nephew of an earl and you the second son of one. So you see, the balance of power has changed, and I believe so has the world, permanently."

"Interesting. I could add further evidence by describing life in America. But what brings you here? Surely it was not to educate me on the symbolic nature of progress." He opened the cabinet, putting a bottle of Oban and a bottle of French brandy on a tray as well as two glasses, and then he found his way to his favorite chair. He nodded to the empty chair, a silent invitation for Darcy to stay.

"I am in need of a friend. You recently said you are my friend."

"Always, and apparently your cousin as well! So, what exactly is it you need to disclose to me? Is it about that day, the eleventh day of April? Come, come, Darcy. You have been shut up in your home for nigh on two weeks now. What else could you have been doing except mulling over and over what was said and done to you. Or is this about your alliance?"

"Our alliance. And as always, you know me well. My conduct, my manners, my expressions during the whole of it, are now, as through the years, inexpressibly painful to me."

When Rawlings attempted to respond, Darcy held up his hand. "Today I will be the speaker, and you will listen. I promise not to interrupt you in the future." Both men shared a smile.

"Painful recollections have intruded into my daily thoughts which cannot, which ought not, to be repelled. I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child, I was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Unfortunately, as an only son, I was spoiled by my parents, who, though good themselves; and my father in particular was all that was benevolent and amiable, allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing. I learned to care for none beyond my own family circle; to think meanly of all the rest of the world; to wish, at least, to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own. Such I was, from eight to eight and twenty."

Darcy sipped his scotch. Rawlings remained still; he did not speak or drink, giving his friend time to compose his words. He knew it was not the drink causing his friend to screw up his face in such a painful looking expression.

"What do I not owe you! You, Kent, Richard, Blake and, most of all, Miss Elizabeth. I was taught a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. I was properly humbled. Before then, I had no doubt of my reception by anyone. You all showed me how insufficient were my pretensions."

"Darcy, I told you once, we all have to accept ourselves for what we have been, what we are today, and what we will become. It is a rite of passage which no good man can avoid."

"But I need to show everyone, by every civility in my power, that I am not so mean as to resent the past. I hope to obtain forgiveness, to lessen everyone's ill opinion, and I need to let each of you see I have attended to all your reproofs. I never experienced such shame as I have this past fortnight. I cannot stand the sight of my own reflection."

"What? No more standing at the windows glaring at the glass panes?" Rawlings chuckled.

"Perhaps one day I will return to standing there, but not right now. I keep all the drapes shut." Darcy leaned back in his chair, cognizant of the warmth of the leather. "I have taken steps to right the wrongs with my cousin, Richard, and with Kent. I am here to apologize for my behavior to you."

Darcy placed his glass on the table. He stood before Rawlings and with his head hung low said, "I do apologize. For Miss Stevens, for not standing by your side the four years you were married, for being such an arrogant boor and not treating you as a equal, as you are, but as a underling. I am truly sorry."

Rawlings placed his glass down, rose and held out his hand. "In America, men shake hands as a form of acceptance. Shake mine, Darcy. I will accept your apology if you accept my hand in apology for pretending to be you and forcing Margaret to marry me. It was wrong of me to do so."

The two men shook hands, their clasps firm.

Rawlings spoke up as they returned to the chairs. "I am sorry I spoke so bluntly when I could have been kinder."

"What did you say of me, that I did not deserve? No, do not answer. I see I cannot win this argument. I need advice."

"Oh. Do I need to find us a ball?"

Darcy chuckled. "No, I have learned that lesson. For the remainder of my days, I will never again expect others to look at me as something to be gained. I will treat them as I treat those I admire and respect, until such time as they have earned my disregard. I promise you that. But your advice is needed when it comes to making amends with Bingley and Blake."

Rawlings refilled his glass with brandy. "Excuse me." Rawlings left the room, spoke to his servant and then returned, shutting the door behind him. "We will not be disturbed for any reason. I will do my best to help you, but I am not always the cleverest of men."

"You write the cleverest of letters." Darcy smiled as he thought about the first letter from America. He gulped his drink. As Rawlings refilled his friend's glass, Darcy looked out into the distance.

"I have made a mess of everything when it comes to the Bennets. You do not know that I accused Mr. Bennet of lying about Mr. Gardiner, whom I called a dishonorable man. No, I called him dishonest, a crook."

"Gardiner understands. He partnered with Cuffage, or is it Rogers or Roberts? I get confused on the names, and do not forget Gardiner collaborated with him before we did. He was nearly ruined himself. He does not hold your earlier opinion against you."

"But he is not the one I… He is a better man than me. I am an arrogant cur. I must overcome this. I must."

"You mentioned Bingley and Blake?"

"Yes, I did, and I do seek your help. Both Bingley and Blake are still heartbroken over the two eldest Bennets. It was my mess. There is much you do not know. Had I been forthright in my assumptions about Mrs. Bennet, I have no doubt Blake would have returned to Longbourn and demanded to see Miss Elizabeth. I never lied to him, but I never revealed the truth. Until now, I used that as my justification for being correct in my actions, but I cannot do so any longer."

"I doubt he would have believed you. His pride was hurt. He owns some of the same arrogance you speak of about yourself. No, you should not have spoken up. It was just an opinion--nothing more, unless you know for a fact that Miss Elizabeth had not been sent to London as a precaution." When Darcy shook his head, Rawlings continued, "Blake is his own man, and must make his own decisions. In the same circumstance, would you have not been more forceful in finding her?"

Darcy shrugged. "I do not know. I cannot fault Blake." As he released these words, his attention drifted off.

Rawlings coughed. "And now, what is it about Bingley?"

"I have come to learn that Miss Bennet did care for him. I was wrong in my judgment, which should not be surprising!"

"How exactly did you learn this? Did Mr. Gardiner share a confidence?"

"No. Miss Elizabeth Bennet informed me that it was my separation of her sister from Bingley that helped her decline my offer of marriage."

Rawlings sat upright. His eyes opened wide. "You offered marriage to Miss Elizabeth? I had no idea? Does Blake know?"

"Yes, that fateful April day I had just finished informing him during his moment to educate me about my shortcomings when you came bursting in the room. I had been very selfish in speaking so to him. I should never have caused him further pain. But he did seem to cheer up when he realized I was declined."

Rawlings stood and patted Darcy's shoulder. "Did you not know how she felt? We all knew of her dislike of you."

Darcy briefly closed his eyes. "No, as I said, I am an arrogant cur. I believed she was wishing, expecting my addresses. I was a fool. I never expected any lady to dismiss me, and she did so with great passion. I still shudder when I recall her words."

"Did she indicate a preference for Blake? If so, then you must tell him about your supposition."

"No. She never spoke of Blake, except once out of general politeness and once when accusing me... I do not know how she feels about him; quite angry, I suspect. I should have spoken up when he informed me what happened upon our return to London from Netherfield Park. But…"

"You loved her even then."

"Yes. I did not want to admit it, but I did not want him to have her either. I pretended to be her protector, when what I really wanted was for her to be mine. I concealed this from him. I was wrong to act the way I did. I would never have gone on the balcony that night if… if I had admitted my own feelings. He would have asked her, and she would be his wife by now. I should tell him about Mrs. Bennet."

"If you are wrong about her feelings, then it will be cruel. But when did you speak to Miss Elizabeth and offer marriage?"

"When I visited my aunt in Kent, she was there."

"Oh? Did you pursue her there?"

"I thought I needed to do very little. She never even realized I was courting her. I thought I was showing her the most honorable attention. The day before I returned to London, I proposed. I am such a damned fool."

"Yes. But so are all men when it comes to women. Is that when you learned about Miss Bennet's true regard for Bingley?"

"Yes. Should I tell him? And before you answer, I have another confession to make."

"Let me refill my glass before you begin." He refilled his own, and when his friend held his empty glass forward, he questioned him with his eyes.

Darcy sighed. "I have drunk an excessive amount recently. I understand your habit much better now."

Rawlings laughed. "It does not help. Now, your confession?"

"Miss Jane Bennet came to visit Bingley's sister in January. Miss Bingley concealed her visit from her brother, and I assisted her in that. You see, I am not only arrogant, but a dishonorable, deceitful man. I am not gentleman-like at all."

"Do not be too hard on yourself."

Darcy whispered, "That hurts me the most deeply."

"What?"

"I am not gentleman-like. Elizabeth accused me of that twice, so I know it was not just something she said in anger or haste. She truly believes it."

"When did she say it?"

"When I proposed."

"You proposed in an ungentleman-like manner? A most unique method, I must say. Do you agree it was done in such a way?"

"Most definitely. I am an arrogant cur."

"I think you have established that point. I disagree, but then you need to discover the truth about who you really are. So what did she say? You cannot leave me in the dark."

"The words ring in my ears, every night, and any moment I am not focused on business."

"And?" Rawlings leaned back and put the glass to his lips.

"Well, the first instance she used the term was when I called her uncle dishonest."

Rawlings choked on the sip of brandy he had just swallowed. "During a proposal? You said that? I cannot believe it."

"It is true. I did say that and more. I used many horrid words to describe her family. I even said they would not be included in any family social events. I told her I would deprive her of her own mother and silly sisters. I told her many would think she was unworthy to be Mrs. Darcy. I never told her I believed her to the best woman of my acquaintance to hold the name. I am an arrogant cur."

"Not the best negotiation tactics, my friend. In fact, it was rather stupid. I assume there were no sharp objects in the room."

"I know I am an idiot, and now that you bring it up, I am glad she did not seek out the fireplace poker!"

"And the second time she said you were ungentleman-like was…?" Rawlings leaned forward.

"Oh, she had no problem unleashing her loathing on me. Her exact words were, 'You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way, than as it spared me the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner.' And…"

"And?"

"Yes, it is her very words that burn in my ears. I cannot make them go away." He recited them from memory careful to imitate the venomous tone in her speech. "From the very beginning, from the first moment I may almost say, of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form that ground-work of disapprobation, on which succeeding events have built so immoveable a dislike; and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry."

"Ah, the callous remark from the Assembly Hall dance." Rawlings lowered his voice and in the gentlest of tones asked, "Do you really love this woman? Or do you just want to bed her? You are too honorable to do so with a gentleman's daughter without marriage." Rawlings tapped Darcy's shoulder and continued only when he looked up. "Your proposal does not seem to have come from a man who truly loves a woman. I suspect she also did not believe you felt this way. She was just another object for the rich man of Derbyshire to own. Therefore, she could not overlook the way you proposed to her. Darcy, only you know the real truth."

"I love her with every inch of my body, my mind, my soul. The world looks gray without her, even on the brightest of days. Food is tasteless; music is dull. My whole body craves her smile, or just the tiniest of touches. My arms are empty even when they are full of objects. I am surrounded by a dark cloud and nothing gives me pleasure." Darcy closed his eyes, dropped his head and sighed loudly. "I take her image into my bed every night, and never once do I do more than hold her tightly in my arms. I treasure her that much."

"You promised to be truthful and honest, my friend."

"Yes, well, perhaps I was not so chaste in my dreams, and the condition of my bed each morning indicates otherwise, but I did hold her for a long time first. I did speak to her in… in… flowery words."

The two men sat quietly, sipping their drinks. Darcy stared at the unlit fireplace.

After a long silent pause, Rawlings cleared his throat. "About Bingley, do nothing. Unless you determine Miss Bennet's present desires, you cannot further burden your friend. If she has transferred her affections elsewhere, he may never recover from your confession. He had happiness in his hands and he let it slip away. If Miss Bennet continues to have a desire for him, then our association with Mr. Gardiner will help reveal it. Then, and only then, you must confess to him. Bingley will hate you for a moment, until he realizes he has won the lady of his heart. He will be joyous, and will not care that you did this."

"Yes, I see your point. I will wait as you suggest. But my heart remains heavy."

"Something else? Your expression seems to suggest another question."

"Is it wrong for me to wish Elizabeth would never marry another man?"

"Is it wrong for me to be happy my wife died? Yes, but we are men."

Darcy nodded.

Chapter 49C

Posted on January 27, 2009

Regardless of our burdens, life uncaringly continues to propel us along the heavily travelled road, down which no one can see what awaits them. A protective shadow cast over the path cloaks our lives; much like an oak tree provides cooling shade in a sweltering summer, thus giving us the opportunity to continue even when our strength is sapped. Other turns in the highway literally break our hearts, whether due to lost love or the death of a loved one. Then there are the potholes that jolt us into speechlessness. Perhaps the carriage carrying us forward is rundown from the wear and tear of the journey, and is not as speedy as when it was new, but still, the road lies ahead, pulling us forward with windy whispers of hope for better days to come.

And so it was, after weeks of reflection, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy ventured forward as a different man; a little wiser and a lot kinder, cautiously listening to the soft voice suggesting to him of his better days and of his brighter future that lay just around the bend.

With Mr. Gardiner as a full partner, Astor lived up to his agreement, and assisted the young men on matters that they were not prepared to handle. Bingley and his family of inventors provided great support, and transferred their endeavors away from the Falcon. The Lowell family in Boston provided the connection needed for trading with the East Indies, including China, and Rawlings repeatedly remarked on the irony that the Falcon created the relationship by having the ship diverted from New York to Boston. Kent and his family solidified their importance to the group. They built the ships, handled the trade of goods and services and assisted in every business type request.

As news spread throughout the gossipy ballrooms attended by the ton, and the lowly taverns of London, everyone lined up on one of the sides. Almost every Tory supported Lord Winthrop's coalition, the Peregrine, while many Whigs preferred the young men's alliance. Arguments abounded between the rich and the poor, those with established wealth and those recently rich. The servants supported whomever their master supported, but the tradesmen lined up behind Darcy and Kent--even those that had once turned away from them. Darcy's leadership provided them with security, and the knowledge that they would not be trampled upon by Falcon's group. Besides, Darcy and Kent made sure the invoices were paid on time, even if they had to pay them from their own pockets.

Together, Darcy and Kent proved capable of overcoming most every obstacle Winthrop placed before them. The Corn Laws presented the biggest problem, and using this most devastating weapon, the Falcon's directed Lord Liverpool to push through more legislation aimed at hurting the manufacturing and trade market.

Darcy had much to learn about the difficulties faced by tradesmen at the hands of the aristocracy and the impact of laws passed. Once when Kent was sharing dinner after a difficult day, Darcy could no longer conceal his ignorance.

"Kent, I am having a difficult time understanding how the Corn Laws hurt manufacturers."

"If you tell me what you understand I will be able to explain what you do not know."

"Lord Liverpool is pushing for passing more Corn Laws, which does nothing more than establish a duty for any grain imported. As a farmer, I find this does provide security for my crop sales, but how does such a law hurt manufacturers?"

Kent smiled. "Ah. The duty results in a high price for bread in this country, since every English farmer has raised their prices to the level imposed by the duty. Why should they charge considerably less when they can slightly undercut imported grain?

"But are imports not down?"

"Yes they are at the moment, because of the war, but once the Napoleon is defeated, and he will be, then the price of bread will rise. If more onerous Corn Laws are passed, the manufacturers will be faced with increasing calls for higher wagers. If we raise our workers wages so they can buy bread, then the price for our products will also be higher. We will not be able to compete successfully in all those foreign countries we have just spent the last several months establishing a foothold. Three ingredients are necessary for beating the competition.

"Price is not the only ingredient?"

"Not the only one, but cheap prices are one. Superiority of the goods is another and speed to produce is the third. We own the quality ingredient. No foreign manufacturer can make anything that compares to our goods. With the efficiency of our machines, no one can produce products faster either. But cheap prices may be our downfall."

"I cannot believe our great nation would sacrifice one interest for another. It would work to England's benefit to not cause harm to the manufacturers."

"Aristocrats can be short-sighted, Darcy. They truly dislike tradesmen. However, it is ironic."

"How so?"

"The richer you become the poorer you may become." Kent laughed at his words. "You stand to make bigger profits though trade than through your grain, but lose all your profits due to the inflated cost of bread!"

Darcy laughed and the two men continued their conversations on the Falcon's efforts.

The young men worked hard and the fledgling alliance was able, within two months, to stand on its own and become the driving force behind the new world of machinery, and with it gained an advantage on the industrial world.

Blake never personally returned to the alliance, nor did he ever join the Falcon's group. As an honorable man, he did agree to complete some work he had started with Darcy's alliance, but had his solicitor act for him in all matters of business with them. After moving to his own small estate in the country, and away from his father's house, Blake ended up spending most of his London time with his Uncle Harrowby, the Tory politician. He was conflicted by the Tory's new emphasis on passing more Corn Laws, because the effort went beyond protecting the aristocracy and large estate owners to deliberately attempting to decimate the Darcy's alliance. Nevertheless, as a Tory and an aristocrat, Blake chose not to ask his Uncle Harrowby, a political force in the House of Lords, to intercede on this issue. Oddly, Harrowby lived next door to Winthrop, but had never been a part of his alliance, nor did he understand the true nature of the Falcon's activities. Blake never again visited his other uncle, who was a member of the Peregrine, and ignored every one of his father's invitations and demands.

Business filled Darcy's days, continuing along in a very set and routine manner, but he did attempt to change his personal affairs with every one of his acquaintances. His first endeavor was to correct the authoritative relationship he maintained over his sister.

"Yes, brother. Did you send for me?" Georgiana moved to her normal chair in front of his desk.

Darcy rose from behind his desk and used his open hand to point to the more comfortable chairs in front of the fireplace. He felt a sting when he caught sight of Georgiana's shocked reaction. They took their seats, and Darcy leaned forward, his arms resting on his thighs to support his upper body. "You look lovely this morning."

"Thank you." Georgiana held her breath as fear filled her eyes.

"I have decided to treat you as my sister, and one fully grown, and not as my child. I promise you, I will not be arbitrary in my decisions. Firstly, you will be offered the opportunity to express your thoughts. Secondly, I will completely explain the reason for any prohibition or denial of your wants. Thirdly, I will allow you to respond, without interruption. We will work out any problems together."

Georgiana relaxed, but only allowed her posture to slacken by the smallest of margins. "I am pleased, but… " She waited for her brother to inject his thoughts, and when he remained quiet, she continued, "I am surprised by your change. I do not understand what you expect from me."

"To be the beautiful, sweet, and loving sister that you are. I will be depending upon you to be my hostess with larger groups of guests, but first I need to know if I ask too much. I will never again demand you perform, unless you have indicated your willingness to do so."

"Brother, I have overcome so much, and you were correct, the little dinner parties with your friends have made it easier for me. I am sure I can succeed, but I may need help."

"Please, do not shy away from asking me to help with anything. We can do this together."

Sitting quietly for a few moments, the siblings contemplated the tasks before them. Georgiana, sensing the conversation was not over, remained in her chair, twisting her handkerchief. Growing impatient, she asked, "Did you wish to scold me for my assistance to Mr. Kent? I have been waiting for you to do so."

"Not at all. I beg your pardon for not easing your anxiety on this. I only wish I had been the man you wanted me to be, and not the one in which you felt the need to conceal your activities from."

"Does this mean, had I been interested in Mr. Kent, you would not object? Bear in mind, I am not interested, but I need to understand who you consider a worthy man for me."

"Any man that is kind, good and honorable. I no longer care if his status is high or low. I do not seek titles or wealth as a pre-condition. I want you to be happy, and that means I will accept anyone that you wish to marry, as long as…"

Georgiana caught her breath as she waited for what her brother had to say.

"He is not seeking only your fortune or our name. We," he pointed to her and then himself, "must be vigilant, but we can do so together. I promise."

She smiled and relaxed her entire body until gasping at her lack of good posture. She attempted to straighten up when he shook head. "In this room, when we are alone, you do not need to sit so rigidly. We are brother and sister, you know!"

Georgiana sprung to her feet and gave her brother a hug and a kiss upon his cheek. When she looked into his eyes, she realized the light that had once flickered brightly had a familiar dullness to them.

Darcy presented a half-smile. "Did you know Kent remarked once that you could spot angst in a person?"

"And I suppose you want to know if I see yours?" Georgiana whispered.

"Do not fear me! Yes, it is true. I am saddened; in fact, my heart has been wrenched from my body, and by my own hand. Well, that is how I feel, and I know you are curious. I also know you will understand, because now I finally comprehend your melancholy last summer." His voice caught in his throat, and when he did release the words, it cracked. "I am so sorry for my boorish behavior."

Georgiana waited for a moment then stated, "Miss Elizabeth Bennet declined your offer of marriage."

Darcy nodded. "See, you know without my saying a word. Yes, she did; and she was right to do so. I do not deserve her." He lowered his head until his chin touched his chest.

"But you do. You are the best brother."

Darcy straightened upright and inhaled deeply. "But not the best man. I realize that I have much to change. I must attend to too many of my selfish and conceited traits if I wish to become the type of man she would approve of. Even though I have no hope of..."

Hearing his almost unrecognizable gasp, Georgiana touched her brothers' hand. "Do not give up."

"My dear, sweet sister, I have no hope for a future with her. I have no one but my own self to blame." Darcy's last words cracked as he spoke.

She held his hand and placed several light kisses upon it. "There is always hope."

Darcy caught his breath in his throat, blinked his eyes several times and then gazed into his sister's kind face. "Some unknown powerful force is demanding I change for her. Everything I do is aimed towards her approval. I want her to see me as a gentleman worthy of her acquaintance."

Georgiana spotted the mist in Darcy's eyes and squeezed his hand tighter. He rose, pulling her up with him, and hugged her tightly. "Help me, dear, sweet Georgiana. Help me become the man she would want to know. Teach me how a woman worthy thinks and feels."

With tears falling down her cheeks, Georgiana hugged him tightly. "I will."

Two months had passed since the eleventh day of April, the day that everyone referred to as the Eligo, the Latin word for to choose. Kent had suggested it would be appropriate as the trademark for the group, and every man agreed since each had been made to decide their future on that fateful day.

In addition to other occasions, Darcy held a dinner each month for all the partners, and had invited the remaining members of the Lunar Society--Watt, Murdoch, Keir and Gaston – to conduct their meetings at his house on those nights. They had agreed with alacrity. In addition, he also invited men of means, those whom might be persuaded to sponsor or invest in their endeavors. The inventors brought their newest accomplishments to demonstrate, which proved the best entertainment, until Georgiana performed for them on her pianoforte. Her playing tamed the wildest of the men.

Only Blake and Bingley were missing. Blake had chosen a different path, living out his own Eligo; Bingley had chosen to remain up north. He did not return to London, even with his Uncle Watt for the dinner meetings. Instead, he kept himself busy with the rifle orders. Watt had spoken to Darcy about his nephew's lack of interest in anything other than business. Darcy suggested they meet at Pemberley in late August for that month's dinner meeting, and promised Watt that he would insist upon Bingley's attendance. The two men concocted a plan to draw Bingley out of his self-imposed exile. Darcy was most disturbed when Mr. Gardiner remained mute when any inquiry of the Bennet daughters was made. He did not press the issue, believing protectiveness was the reason behind Gardiner's silence.

During the dinners, Darcy had made a point of not only meeting everyone, including the ladies, but discovering more about each person. He asked many questions, and charmed the ladies with his new ease of conversation. He practiced with every opportunity to speak kindly and with respect, regardless of the social or financial status of the guest. He allowed his wit to compete with Rawlings, which surprised only those that had not known the earlier man, before he had become the current Master of Pemberley.

Georgiana enjoyed the dinners, and looked forward to each one. She blossomed into an excellent hostess, although her shyness and uncertainness still had its roots in her being. She invited Victoria to every occasion, but since the day of the Eligo, Lord Matlock had barred her from Darcy House. Miss Kent, on the other hand, accepted every invitation. Her eyes barely let go of the sight of one particular man, and when he chose to include her in conversation, her heart would pump furiously, which unhappily was not as often as she liked, nor was she pleased he did not speak on anything aimed at romance. It was all pleasant and surprisingly witty, but not the words a young lady wished to hear when conversing with the most dashing of men.

So it was, on the fourteenth day of June, the dining room of Darcy House was filled to capacity. A harmony of voices flourished, as the astonished servants served the meal. Women spoke their mind, but unlike Bingley's party, a pre-determined seating arrangement was followed. Darcy worked with Georgiana to decide the best grouping of attendees, in order to make sure everyone was included in conversation.

They had just begun the meal, when Geoffries handed his master an urgent message. Darcy was quick to open it, and carefully read the words. He held his hand up to quiet the others sitting around the table. Looking at his guests, Darcy smiled. "Blake has sent word. Today, the government has lifted the trade restrictions with America. There will be no war in 1812."

"Hooray for Blake. Cheers!" Everyone held their drinks high.

Blake had worked tirelessly on getting the restriction lifted. His Uncle Harrowby had used every political favor. The uncle and nephew had grown close over the previous months, as Harrowby had educated him on Parliament, politics in general, and the Tories in particular.

Blake had an agreement; once the government lifted the restriction of trade, he would no longer have any part of the alliance. However, during this period, he learned his heart was not in the world of business; he did not care for it all. In the end, it was not the connecting with the tradesmen's sons that bothered him; it was the dull and boring details of the everyday activities. He also discovered he no longer cared to win approval from the members of the ton. He did make one important discovery--politics were different. He believed he could make a difference; an honorable difference, as his Uncle Harrowby had taught him. He had found his calling in life, for which he would eventually thank Darcy. Had it not been for the alliance, he would never have given this life a chance, nor re-established a relationship with his uncle.

The conversation during dinner celebrated the trading possibilities now that the embargo was no longer a problem. Rawlings thought about Lowell and his Boston friends. He recognized that New England had had difficulties with the restrictions, having seen some signs of it when he visited. Ships lay wasted in the harbors. Families were losing their financial security. Lowell, however, would profit from a continuation of any embargo. Business problems in one area opened up success in another. Since Rawlings had purchased stock in Lowell's cotton mill, he made money regardless.

Kent was pleased with the progress, and his family's acceptance and role in the alliance. His Uncle Daniel had a fortune riding on averting war. Kent had warned him to diversify, but to no avail. His uncle was a determined man. Darcy, too, had tried to dissuade him, but also to no avail. Privately, the two friends had made a plan to protect him. Today, however, Daniel Kent rejoiced in the news.

In July the alliance made a second trip to the Soho Manufactory, and remaining true to his word, Darcy led Kent in playing many pranks on his friend's vivacious younger sister, Susan. Kent had shared Darcy's carriage on the way to Birmingham in order to devise the most devilish of pranks.

"She hates her food to be heavily peppered, but I do not see how we can do it."

"Yes we can, Kent. You just need to see the whole picture. We will butter the underside of her spoon and then press it into pepper. She will not see it before she takes her first bite of dessert!" Darcy laughed.

Kent guffawed when she took her first taste of cobbler. Darcy kept his countenance until Kent glanced at Darcy and burst out, "Vengeance is mine, dear sister. I have the master of pranks to assist me so you are warned."

Happily, the next day she retaliated by placing a spider under in his coffee cup , causing the war of pranks to escalate until three days later Mrs. Boulton put an end to it. The truce was made over dinner one evening with a handshake between Darcy and Miss Kent, who in turn made Rawlings shake hands too. He had been secretly assisting and helping her to win.

Rawlings smiled widely when Darcy's expression revealed his shock when his friend announced, "Remember, I was the one that taught you!"

The week at the Soho Manufactory came to an end with the tradesmen proud of their heir and delighted to be associated with Mr. Darcy, a man whom had made them feel like equals.

Further up north, Bingley remained the quietest of the men, no silliness could be found. He and his family of inventors toiled on with their responsibilities in the alliance. There was no end to their creativity. It was this activity that caused the first failure of Winthrop's coalition. Surprisingly, the Falcon's group, without the support of many tradesmen, needed the lifting of the trade embargo with America. In fact, without it, they would have continued to spiral downwards as Darcy's alliance would continue to succeed.

An early August dinner party at Darcy House ended well, after much of the discussion focused on the war declared by America on the 16th day of June, two days after Parliament had lifted the trade embargo. Darcy had repeatedly complained to Keir about finding a way for his telegraph to cross the oceans. He had previously joked about the cost of the slow delivery of Rawlings' letter, but now lives were at stake. Had America received word of Parliament's action, then the war would not have happened.

On a lighter note, everyone enjoyed the experiments conducted after dinner, except that everyone missed Mr. Gardiner and his easygoing manner. He, his wife, and Miss Elizabeth had left for a trip to the Lake Country. The partners, including Gardiner, planned to meet up at Pemberley in four days time, on August 6, to rethink what the war would mean to their alliance. Darcy invited not only the partners, but also many members of Kent and Bingley's families to his country home as well.

When the dinner guests finally departed for their homes, Rawlings stayed. He had an important message to convey to Darcy. Sipping drinks in Darcy's study, Rawlings revealed his secret. "She has had a change of heart."

"Who?"

"Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

Darcy sat upright. He held his breath as his friend continued.

"I have it on good authority, Gardiner that is, Miss Elizabeth is no longer angry with a certain young man."

"Is it Blake or me?"

"Gardiner would not say. I believe he is a little cautious, especially when it comes to his nieces. I suspect he is trying to discover if the young man is still interested."

"Have you told Blake?"

"No! I am hoping it is you she has had a change of heart over."

"But if it is Blake…"

"I hope not. You have changed into the kind of man that deserves her. Blake is still the same man, still proud and a little arrogant. I will tell you another secret."

Darcy jerked his head up.

"She will be in Lambton the day after tomorrow. They will be staying at the Red Rooster Inn. Logan has set up horses for you along the way. If you leave now, you will be able to see her before they, and the entire alliance, descend upon Pemberley. Go to her, tonight."

Darcy shook his head.

Rawlings stood and grasped his friend's shoulder. "Go. Find her. Find out if you are the man she wants. You will arrive a several days ahead us. Do not let this opportunity pass. Oh, and tell her about you being a selfish being all your life, and all those other things you told me months ago. Women like to hear men grovel. I promise you, the passionate reward is worth it. And do not say anything that would make her ashamed of who she is or where she comes from. Tell her how your life is gray, and nothing tastes good and music is dull, and all that boring talk. You remember, it is what you told me. Now say it all to her!"

Darcy nodded slowly.

Rawlings took his leave, careful to hide behind a nearby bush, where he was able to watch any inhabitants of Darcy House leave. He did not have to wait long. Darcy was out of the door in less than a quarter hour, and he was dressed for a long ride. Rawlings smiled as he watched his friend mount his horse and trot down the street out of sight. With Darcy on his way, Rawlings hummed a tune as he made his way home.

"Excuse me, sir. No one is permitted to enter tonight."

"It is imperative I speak to your master. It is urgent, and cannot wait."

"Very well."

"What are you doing here and at this time of night?" Blake asked. The muscles in his neck were taut.

Dressed in his traveling clothes, Darcy held his hat in his hand. "I have come to confess, and to offer you hope."