Beginning, Previous Section, Section XIII, Next Section

Chapter 43. A friendship ends

Posted on 2010-08-14

Saturday morning William was awake and out of bed early again. By the time Elizabeth woke, he had been out to purchase newspapers and pick up freshly made bread at a bakery she had pointed out to him one day on the way to her flat.

After saying good morning to him, Elizabeth added, "You make me feel like quite the layabout. What time were you up?" She said it humorously, but she was also trying to find out just how badly he slept without sounding like she was watching his every move or worried about him; he didn't seem to appreciate that type of care.

William prevaricated and said he had just returned from his errands. This was true, but he had been awake for a while, his sleep disrupted by thoughts and dreams he couldn't easily recall or put voice to. His answer did not fool Elizabeth and it concerned her.

After serving them both tea, Elizabeth sat down next to William on the sofa. He expected what was coming and was trying to act like he was already engrossed in the news. Elizabeth, however, was not to be so easily denied. Gently pushing the paper aside, she said, "When did you get up?"

Hazarding a glance at her, he saw a firm expression, but one he knew had a great deal of care behind it.

"I don't recall exactly," he prevaricated again.

Elizabeth sighed. "I had hoped you would sleep in this morning. Or at least sleep until your usual hour."

"I'm fine," he replied trying to turn his attention to the broadsheet again.

"You've not been sleeping and," she said the last a little louder to prevent his interruption, "you've not been eating properly."

"It's been a busy week," he said gruffly.

Inching closer to him, she put a hand on his arm; his hand was still clutching the broadsheet. "I know it's been a difficult week. I know that, but…"

"Everything will get back to normal now," he insisted once again cutting off her words. He gave her a quick kiss and turned his attention to the news. After watching him for a moment, Elizabeth picked up a section of the paper and started to read, resolved to keep an eye on him to make sure everything did indeed get back to normal, starting with his eating and sleeping habits.

During breakfast, at which William forced himself to eat more than he felt like, they decided to have a quiet day. They were due at the Gardiner's in the late afternoon; lunch had been changed to an early dinner. In the meanwhile, they would simply use the time to unwind. Elizabeth mentioned a desire to go grocery shopping and they did, William inwardly cringing at the thought that it meant an end to her stay at the house. He would not accept going back to weekends only, however. She had said her schedule would lighten up after the trip to Switzerland and to him that meant more time together during the week.

They otherwise spent the day reading, talking and listening to music, some of it created by Elizabeth. After she played her flute for a while, William remarked that he had never heard her play the guitar. Upon his specific request, she went and found her instrument, dusted it off and played folk songs for a while, singing and telling him stories of camping trips she had taken while living in North America. William greatly enjoyed it and that it relaxed him was very evident to Elizabeth.

They drove to the Gardiner's where William was warmly welcomed, as was Elizabeth of course. He was offered condolences and even a bit of additional, although subtle, coddling. Susie and especially Davy were more than willing to talk about school, their friends and the various goings-on in their lives, much to William's amusement.

While Edmund engaged William in playing card games with him and the children, Elizabeth helped her aunt with dinner. The women talked a little about William and how he was coping and Elizabeth stressed that they were – at his suggestion – staying at her flat that weekend. Madeline agreed that it was a sign that William knew the circumstances of the last week – Elizabeth staying at his house – was not the prelude to a permanent arrangement.

"I don't imagine he will want to wait very long before it is, though," Madeline said pointedly.

Elizabeth grimaced, but did not reply.

"I just say it darling," her aunt continued, "so that you consider it – and how you will respond."

"I'm not prepared to leap forward," Elizabeth said somewhat irritably. "We've not even been together a half year, even less if you consider we only moved on from being friends in February."

"Elizabeth," Madeline said, her voice taking on a gentler tone, "he loves you very much; that is almost painfully obvious."

"I know," Elizabeth said softly.

"Do you? Do you trust him? Trust that…"

"It's just too soon," Elizabeth cut in, not willing to risk what she thought her aunt was leading up to. She did know that William loved her. A little voice in her head nagged her at times with the opinion that she knew many others – such as William's aunt – held. It may burn bright now, but it will fade; he was just infatuated with her and it would not stand the test of time. Once he got to know her better he would realise… She pushed the thought roughly aside, but it refused to be cast out entirely.

Madeline acquiesced knowing now – with William and her family in the other room and the dinner hour almost upon them – was not the time for this conversation. Kindly, but firmly, she said, "You have to trust him, Lizzie. Trust his feelings for you."

"I do," Elizabeth replied. "I do."

Madeline thought her niece's voice lacked conviction, but let the matter drop for the time being. She did want to resume it at a more appropriate time, though. She knew many people, including Elizabeth herself, saw her niece as a strong, confident woman. And, truthfully, Elizabeth was, at least when it came to her academic and work accomplishments. She perhaps relied too much on these for her sense of self-worth. In other areas, Madeline worried that Elizabeth wasn't as sure of herself, no doubt the result of her mother's years of undermining her emotionally and Rupert's refusal to deal with Fanny's behaviour. She knew that Elizabeth had struggled with believing herself to be truly worthy of affection when she was younger.

Adding to her worry was that, as much as Elizabeth confided in her, this was one area she refused to discuss. She had moved to Canada, and remained abroad for her doctoral studies, in order to put some much needed distance between herself and her mother and childhood experiences. Since returning, Elizabeth had clung to the attitude that she had reconciled her past, put it into a proper perspective and exorcised the associated demons. Madeline remained sceptical and worried that her niece's almost stubborn refusal to discuss the impacts of Fanny's treatment of her would keep her from truly trusting her relationship with William; would, in effect, keep her from true, lasting happiness. It was something she and Edmund frequently talked about, but they could never agree on a solution. Until Elizabeth recognised the problem, there seemed little they could do to help her. They both very much liked William and believed he was just the sort of man that could make Elizabeth happy. He seemed keen to do so. They would hate to see anything go awry with the relationship.

Elizabeth and Madeline finished preparing dinner, soon calling the others to tidy up their game and wash up before heading for the dining room. The meal was a lively affair, full of conversations. Davy and Susie listened raptly as William told them about Pemberley and all that they would be able to do when visiting. Edmund and Madeline discussed the concert they had seen the night before – the one that William and Elizabeth had expected to attend. Finally they discussed the upcoming birthday celebrations for Jane and Rupert Bennet. The adult Gardiners were going to attend, taking a mini-break that weekend, too, allowing David and Susan to spend the time with their maternal grandparents. Madeline and Edmund had made arrangements to stay at an inn near Longbourn. They would attend the family dinner, but would otherwise spend the time alone. Elizabeth was planning to stay at Charles' house this visit. All of the adults were pleased with this arrangement; William and Elizabeth for obvious reasons; her aunt and uncle so that she was spared more of Fanny's brand of motherly advice.

Soon after their leisurely dinner, it was time for Davy to go to bed. Susie had been granted a later bedtime now that she was eight and she requested Elizabeth's attention, having something in particular to show her. Madeline would see Davy to bed. William volunteered to help Edmund with his after-dinner clean up. It didn't take very long and the two men agreed to have a quiet drink before joining Elizabeth and Susie. William had come to very much like Edmund and found he increasingly enjoyed spending time in the Gardiner home.

As they sank into comfortable armchairs, Edmund let out a contented sigh. "I don't know if it's age, parenthood or just plain laziness, but I do enjoy these quiet moments of just sitting and sipping a dram of good Scotch," he remarked.

William smiled his acknowledgement while looking at the amber liquid in his glass. Unbeknownst to him, Edmund studied him carefully before continuing. "The more dreadful the week, the more I appreciate it."

"Mm," William replied.

"Not, of course, that I would compare my week to yours. It's a dreadful thing to deal with."

William didn't say anything; his expression made it clear that he knew exactly what Edmund was referring to and he nodded his agreement.

"I remember when my mother passed," Edmund went on. He was not put off by William's silence; he understood and accepted it as part of William's nature. He was trying to convey his sympathy and understanding in his own way though. "It was such a difficult time. There was the grief of course, but also all of the practicalities and legalities. My sister, as you might imagine, was more hindrance than help. Rupert was of little assistance with her or the girls, and her histrionics just made things that much more difficult. Lizzie was particularly affected. It was the first time she had experienced the death of someone she knew."

"When?" William asked as Edmund paused.

"Elizabeth was just six. Jane accepted her grandmother's death with relative ease, but Lizzie had a great need to understand. She found the concept easy enough to grasp – a body ceasing to function. But, and I understand this is true for many gifted children, the actuality of it was harder to accept; it was hard for her to grasp what had happened to the person her grandmother had been."

He sighed deeply before going on. "It was even harder for her a couple of years later when Rupert's mother died though. She and Lizzie had a strong bond and Annabelle Bennet was a very special woman. She was remarkably intelligent – not like Lizzie, perhaps, but still very bright." He stopped for a sip of his Scotch. "She was constrained by the expectations of her era and family of course and I think that made her push even harder to find ways to allow Lizzie to thrive intellectually. She and Fanny clashed over it repeatedly."

Edmund paused, obviously deep in memory. "It took Lizzie a long time to pull herself out of her grief. She worked so hard in those months that she made herself sick."

There was a silence as each man thought of loss and the challenges of dealing with it. William thought about a young Elizabeth trying to make sense of death and trying to overcome the grief on her own as he had no doubt she had. The quiet was broken by Edmund who sighed, shaking off the gloomy clouds that had temporarily engulfed him.

"Well, not very pleasant memories. We do make it through though; more easily when we have people we love with us."

William nodded solemnly and then asked, tentatively, when Edmund's father had passed.

"I was quite young," he replied. "Fanny was pregnant with Lizzie, Jane was a baby. Rupert managed things, although I did help. His father had died a few years earlier, so he knew what needed to be done. They were still quite happy then and anticipating the birth of their second child. Fanny was convinced she would have a boy as her pregnancy felt much different than what she had experienced with Jane."

He stopped and thought they should move on to another topic. He suggested they finish their drinks and go find Elizabeth and Susie. William agreed.

They heard Elizabeth and Susie before they saw them. Both men smiled at the sound of the two singing loudly. It was a song William did not recognise; it was a boy band much loved by the younger set. Edmund opened the door to the sitting room and they watched Elizabeth and Susie holding hands, dancing and singing.

Edmund smiled fondly at his niece and daughter. "She'll make a wonderful mother one day," he said offhandedly, "should she – or if I may be so bold, the two of you – decide to have children."

He proceeded to walk in the room, clapping and complimenting them on their performance. William was left behind, Edmund's statement resonating in his head, chasing out the small buds of peace and contentment that had been building all day.

After a moment, Elizabeth noticed William was standing, statue-like, by the entrance and went to him.

"Will?" she asked, placing a hand on his arm.

He shook himself, pushing aside the oppressive weight he felt settling on him and pretended all was well. He tried to reassure her with a smile, but Elizabeth was not fooled.

William remained quiet for the rest of their visit, which was not long. It was soon Susie's bedtime and Elizabeth used that as their excuse to leave. The drive back to her flat was almost entirely silent; Elizabeth drove at William's request.

Once the door of her place was closed behind them, Elizabeth turned to William and, standing close to him, said, "Will, what –?" He stopped her words easily, his hands firmly clasping either side of her face and his mouth covering hers in an intense, bruising kiss.

He pulled away very slightly. "Do you know how much I need you?" he said, his voice low and with an edge of desperation. His breathing was rapid and shallow.

Elizabeth's eyes opened only a slit after his kiss. Her heart rate soared at his touch and his words and she easily met his desire. In a hoarse voice, she challenged, "Show me."

He did and both of them soon lost all sense or awareness of anything beyond each other. They were left exhausted, William slightly less emotionally fragile and Elizabeth significantly more confused.

"Will, love," she whispered, "what –?"

"I just need you Elizabeth," he said over-speaking her, his voice raw. "I just need you to be with me."

"I am," she replied softly. "I will always be with you, my love."

William started at her words, but she failed to notice. She began to place soft, slow kisses on his face and neck and William stubbornly shut off his mind and focused solely on Elizabeth. They kissed and caressed for some time until sleep overtook first Elizabeth and soon after William.

That night, William had a nightmare about his mother. He remembered little of it after he awoke with his heart beating hard and fast in his chest and the sound of her voice saying, "I will always be with you, my love."

He did not mention it to Elizabeth.

Sunday started out well enough although William had retreated into his quietness, disturbed by his dream and his behaviour the day before. Rather than confront matters, however, he pushed them aside. Elizabeth tried once or twice to broach the subject, but when William only replied in vague statements, she stopped. She made a mental note to ask her uncle what he and William had talked about, hoping that would give her a clue to work from at least. She knew that his excuse of a stressful fortnight was valid, but also suspected something else had contributed to his mood.

After lunch, William raised the subject of that week. Without saying it outright, it was clear from Elizabeth's words that she expected them to return to their usual routine; as he gave her no indication that he was upset by this, she didn't believe it was an issue.

"When are you having dinner with Charles?" she asked.

"Tuesday," he replied succinctly. He was not in a mood to be happy until they had firm plans to be together during the week.

"Coincidentally the day I am having dinner with Charlotte," she said, affecting a light-hearted tone.

"Where are you meeting her?" he asked, not matching her manner.

Elizabeth explained they would meet at a restaurant just outside of the city. Charlotte would drive there from Kent and it was near a train station.

"Mr Mallon will drive you," William stated.

"That's not necessary," Elizabeth said. "We purposely picked a place near a train station."

"Mr Mallon will drive you," William reiterated.

Elizabeth sighed delicately. "I thought we agreed that was no longer necessary."

She suppressed her frustration well enough that William didn't realise she felt any. He simply didn't see any need for her to take the train when there was a much better – and safer – alternative. She didn't see it as a difficulty and even enjoyed taking the train; it gave her a chance to unwind and do a bit of reading. And it wasn't a long ride.

"I don't like the idea of you taking the train, alone, at night," he explained in a tone Elizabeth would wager Georgiana was very familiar with.

"I've done it before," she said simply.

"That's irrelevant," William replied unaware that Elizabeth was growing more upset; most of his attention had leaped ahead to the plan he was formulating. He was looking not at her, but around the flat as he plotted out their week.

Trying not to sound argumentative, but only because William had had such a rotten couple of weeks, Elizabeth asked, "And what would Mr Mallon do while I was with Charlotte? He has, no doubt, better things to occupy his time. If it makes you feel better…"

William interrupted her, "It would. Mr Mallon will do what he always does – he'll have a meal, occupy himself; it's part of his job."

What Elizabeth had been about to say was, 'If it makes you feel better, he can pick me up at the train station afterwards and drive me home.' Torn between wanting to avoid an argument and wanting to sternly remind him that she was a grown woman, perfectly capable of arranging her own life, she remained silent, glaring at him.

After a moment of quiet, William looked at her. "It will work out well, I think. While you have dinner with Charlotte, I'll be with Charles. We've already planned lunch on Tuesday. Wednesday we can plan to have the evening to ourselves."

"I know," he added after a brief pause and with a hint of chagrin in his voice, "that you want – things – to return to normal. But your work schedule is lighter now you said, and we'll have more time together."

Elizabeth watched him, her expression neutral, letting him go on.

"So, we'll see each other on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. Morning at least." He seemed quite content with this and he was. He would only have to get through Monday without seeing her at all. Thursday after they parted in the morning until Friday after work would be long, but at that point he would have the weekend to look forward to.

There was another pause which Elizabeth broke saying, "I need a cup of tea. Do you want one?"

She stood and walked to the kitchen. She didn't quite know what to say. William had the week all planned out, without needing her input apparently. It was irritating and yet she didn't know how to argue against it, not without hurting him or at a minimum sounding petulant. In the end, she silently acquiesced, although it left her feeling uncomfortable. It wasn't that she didn't want to be with him, it was more a matter of him ordering her life for her. She understood he was used to arranging matters to his liking and he would have to learn to bend a bit, but given recent events, she was not inclined to argue about it now.

William was satisfied; if they could plan such weeks – managing a couple of lunches and an evening or two – it would do for a little while. Elizabeth was comfortable at the house. She seemed to have gotten over her uneasiness with the presence of Mrs Northmore and Mr Mallon. Soon enough they would be spending more nights together than not and it was an easy step from there to making their living together permanent. The thought lightened his mood considerably.

Moving to help Elizabeth carry the mugs of tea to the sitting area, William asked, "Who is Charlotte working for now? Other than the fact that she has a new job, I don't know much about it."

Elizabeth was more than ready to talk about something other than their schedules. "I don't know that much about it either, to be honest. I expect I'll hear more on Tuesday."

She and Charlotte had not talked much since their last dinner together; they had only managed to exchange some short email messages, enough to set up their date and share the basic details of their lives. Elizabeth didn't think much about this as she had been busy and assumed Charlotte was as well, between moving and settling into a new job. She continued to explain what she did know.

"She's working for a hotel-slash-conference centre-slash retreat, she said. I gather it is quite large and caters to golfers and business meetings and private functions. Like Netherfield, but larger and more upscale and involved. It's called Rosings Park, I believe."

William had been listening with interest as she described her friend's new employer, wondering if it could possibly be. Once she said the name, he chuckled, causing Elizabeth to stop and look at him questioningly.

"That's my aunt's business; my Aunt Catherine. It's quite a coincidence."

Elizabeth arched her eyebrows, willing to be amused and dispel her lingering feelings of frustration. "You're not serious?"

He nodded. "Yes. It has been in the de Bourgh family for generations. That was my uncle. He died several years ago, leaving the business to my aunt and cousin, Anne. Aunt Catherine manages it though; I don't think Anne has much to do with it."

Elizabeth looked at him, her expression asking for more.

"Aunt Catherine…well, she can be formidable. Pushy would be the less kind way of phrasing it. She likes to arrange things her own way and be firmly in charge."

"And your cousin doesn't mind?"

William looked a little hesitant. "Anne…Anne is hard to explain. She's a little…odd."

Elizabeth didn't say anything, but after her one meeting with William's cousin, that was certainly the impression she had formed.

"You might have noticed," William continued. "We didn't spend much time with her at Sterling's party, but you are observant." He waited until she shrugged slightly and then continued. "Anne was very ill as a child. She had cancer."

"Oh dear!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"It was years ago and there haven't been any recurrences," William assured her. "My aunt and uncle spoiled her terribly. Understandable, I suppose. She seems to have suffered a number of ailments all of her life, although there is some speculation within the family that they have been perhaps more psychological than physical."

"Meaning?" Elizabeth was curious, but beyond that was glad to have him talking. He seemed more at ease than he had been earlier in the day. The change in his mood had more to do with his thoughts of time with Elizabeth and moving toward living together, but she didn't suspect that.

"Uncle Philip and I have talked about it a number of times. He feels Aunt Catherine's coddling and imposing nature taught Anne to think she is ill and delicate. So much so that Anne in fact did become ill, or at least more frequently and seriously than, physically, there was cause to."

"Oh," Elizabeth said, nodding and trying to process the information William was providing.

"Anne has been on a number of treatments, mainstream and alternative, practically all of her life. The combination of everything has left her…odd. Victoria speculates that she is abusing some of the medicines she has been prescribed."

"Haven't…?" she started to ask, but William continued.

"We've all tried to talk to her, but she ignores us. Uncle Philip has talked to Aunt Catherine, but she won't hear anything about it. I'm not sure what else anyone can do."

Elizabeth thought about it, but didn't feel able to suggest anything. "How well do you know the chap she's marrying? Can he do something?"

William shrugged dismissively. "Not well and I'm not sure he cares enough to act."

"What?!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"I don't believe there is any love between them," he said carefully. He realised such a situation would be beyond Elizabeth's understanding.

"But why?" she spluttered.

"Aunt Catherine has been promoting the match for some time."

"Why?" she asked before giving William a chance to continue.

"His family is in the hospitality business and she has grand ideas of mergers and leading the country's most preeminent and exclusive hotel business.

"And him?" Elizabeth asked her eyebrows arched. "What does he get out of it?"

"Uncle Philip's political ties; he has ambitions along those lines."

"Wow," Elizabeth said shaking her head. "That's…"

"Incomprehensible?" William suggested. "A marriage forged on connections and business concerns, like something out of the 1700s? Yes, but…" he shrugged. It wasn't common, but he knew of several such arrangements. Certainly Caroline Bingley's pursuit of him had not been based on love or even affection.

"And your cousin is happy with this?" Elizabeth was astounded.

"I don't think Anne cares much about anything, including this. I guess she sees enough benefit in it, whatever that might be."

Elizabeth looked at him, trying to make sense of it and William watched her. Eventually he said, "I don't try to understand. I just try to … be there in case she ever needs or wants help."

They moved onto other topics. Elizabeth asked William more about Rosings Park, trying to get a better understanding of her friend's new life. They then talked a little bit about the engagement party the next weekend for Anne and Jeremy. William's Aunt Margaret, who had arranged it at Anne's request (she claimed her mother was too busy to see to it herself) had asked William if he wanted her to postpone it in light of Edgar Darcy's passing. William did not think it was necessary as there was no connection between Anne and Edgar; he wasn't entirely sure why his aunt had even suggested it. William and Elizabeth would attend, although Rebecca, who had been invited as well, would not.

The rest of the day passed peacefully enough. Elizabeth was pleased to see that William remained more relaxed and less dour. By the time he, reluctantly, left after dinner, she was also more at ease and looking forward to resuming a normal schedule and focusing on work during work hours and enjoying each other's company at other times. She thought he might ask to stay the night, and she would have agreed, but he didn't. She assumed he was also looking forward to resuming a more normal schedule and likely had a number of business matters to attend to.

Elizabeth and William spoke Monday and then had a quick lunch date on Tuesday. William had an unexpected meeting scheduled for the early afternoon and could not take as much time as he would have liked. He suggested that, to compensate for the short lunch, they plan to meet again for lunch on Wednesday, even though they were spending the evening and night together. Elizabeth had to decline. She was having a lunch meeting with Angus Blackstone, the chair of the university department at which she taught. Thursday she had lunch meeting with colleagues from another environmental non-governmental organisation; in any case, meeting on Thursday would have necessitated William changing a meeting. They had no choice other than to accept there would not be a make-up lunch date.

As William had arranged, Mr Mallon collected Elizabeth at the end of her work day to drive her to her dinner date with Charlotte. Elizabeth was happily anticipating it. Their last get together had been tense, but Charlotte had been upset at the time about her job situation. This time, Elizabeth expected, Charlotte would be excited about the changes in her life and happy to talk about them. And any shock her friend had felt about her and William would surely have worn away.

During the drive, Elizabeth thanked Mr Mallon for driving her and asked what he intended to do with his time. When he said he would find a place to have dinner, Elizabeth recommended the restaurant at which she and Charlotte were meeting. After being assured that Elizabeth would not mind, he agreed as he was rather fond of Italian food. He told her that he would charge the meal to the Darcy household account – under William's orders – when she asked if he would let her pay for it.

Dinner did not go well; in fact, Elizabeth and Charlotte never got to eating. Elizabeth greeted her friend warmly, smiling at her from the doorway and Charlotte seemed to return it, waving with a smile on her face. It faded, however, when she saw Elizabeth turn and say something to Mr Mallon at the entrance. Elizabeth walked over to their table and said hello, exchanging a hug. Charlotte held herself stiffly although Elizabeth didn't immediately realise this; she was simply pleased to be with her friend again. After Elizabeth sat down, Charlotte asked who the man was that she had talked to. When Elizabeth explained that he was William's driver and houseman and that William had insisted he drive her to and from their dinner, Charlotte tensed even further, although she tried to hide it by turning her attention to her glass of water, taking a sip. Elizabeth tried to make light of it, joking about William being an over protective boyfriend; Charlotte smiled briefly and chuckled, but it was forced.

"So, how is Kent? How are you settling in?" Elizabeth asked.

"Fine," Charlotte replied shortly. She looked down at her menu.

Elizabeth chuckled. "You won't believe the coincidence, but William told me Rosings Park is owned by his aunt, Catherine de Bourgh. Oh, and his cousin Anne, although I gather she has little to do with the business." She thought Charlotte would be amused at the quirky twist of fate; she was not.

Charlotte had looked up at her in the middle of her explanation and continued to regard her closely. Elizabeth, following her friend's suit, turned her attention to her menu; she thus missed the hard look Charlotte, whose face had become paler, gave her.

In an uptight voice, Charlotte asked, "And have you met my boss?"

Casually, Elizabeth replied, "No, not yet. I expect to at the weekend. There is a family party to mark Anne's engagement. What is she like?"

Charlotte did not answer. They sat in silence for a moment until a server came and took their order. With no menus to hide behind, the two women would have to face each other. Elizabeth noticed that Charlotte was staring at her, her expression displeased. She was puzzled by this.

"So, how is it?" Rosings Park, I mean, and your new job? You're living in the hotel itself, aren't you?"

"It's fine," Charlotte said succinctly. "And yes." She paused to take a sip of her beverage. "The hotel is fine; a converted old manor house. Not nearly as grand as your boyfriend's though."

"Oh," Elizabeth said, trying to sound interested, but not wanting to bring William into the discussion. She had not particularly liked the tone of the last comment; it was too reminiscent of their last, uncomfortable, dinner.

"Yes," Charlotte continued. "I've seen photos of his – what is it called – Pemberley?" She paused and didn't go on until Elizabeth reluctantly nodded. "Have you been?" Charlotte asked deceptively casual.

Elizabeth looked her friend in the eyes, a note of hardness creeping into them. She hoped it would be a subtle hint to Charlotte to change the conversation. "Yes; a couple of times."

"Humph," Charlotte replied. "I'm sure it's lovely. Nicer than Rosings and you don't have to share it with a bunch of visitors and be at their beck and call. I rather imagine you have people at your beck and call."

"Charlotte…"

"How is Delicious Darcy anyway? Spoiling you rotten? Apart from seeing you are chauffeured around, I mean."

"He's fine," Elizabeth said tightly. "I had rather hoped to hear about how you are doing. There is nothing new in my life to report."

"Oh, come on, Lizzie, you must want to brag at least a little bit about having landed a wealthy and beautiful man."

"No, I really don't," she said and her growing annoyance was more than obvious.

"Of course not," Charlotte muttered. "Among her many other virtues, Elizabeth Bennet is no braggart."

"Charlotte…" Elizabeth said again starting to feel her patience slipping; there was no Jane present this time to talk Charlotte out of whatever sour mood she was in. This time, Elizabeth and Charlotte would have to resolve the tension that had developed between them, for better or worse.

"You want to hear about Kent?" Charlotte went on, not allowing Elizabeth to say anything. She glared defiantly at Elizabeth, while Elizabeth sat with a stony expression on her face that would have done William proud. "Catherine de Bourgh is a bossy, arrogant woman who simply must have her own way in everything. She is difficult to tolerate, which I imagine is why the salary is so high. The only good thing about this job compared to my last is that it is not in Hertfordshire."

Elizabeth tried to say something, but Charlotte waved her words away before they could be fully formed.

"And I have a coincidence for you to mull over as well," Charlotte continued her tone daring Elizabeth to react negatively. "I've run into an old acquaintance – Bill Collins."

Elizabeth's eyebrows arched in surprise. Under other circumstances, she would have expected to laugh with Charlotte about the ridiculous man, but she had already reached the conclusion that there was not going to be any laughing this evening.

"He works for Rosings as well and we've…become friends."

"Friends?" Elizabeth asked, expecting there was more to it and frankly astonished.

"Yes. He is interested in me and we have become involved."

"Charlotte," Elizabeth said carefully. In the autumn, Charlotte had almost entered into a doomed-for-failure relationship simply out of loneliness; now Elizabeth was worried her friend was embarking on a doomed-for-disaster relationship for the same reason.

"Oh, don't worry, Lizzie. I have no expectation that you will approve. You can save your breath."

Still trying to keep her temper, Elizabeth said, "I gather he's changed somewhat since he visited Meryton." She was trying to gather her thoughts and a way to salvage the evening and her friendship.

"No, not really; he is still absolutely ridiculous," Charlotte said matter-of-factly.

"Well than why?" Elizabeth asked, trying to sound like she honestly wanted to understand.

"He wants me," she said viciously, "and I don't want to be alone. I have accepted that I won't do any better and perhaps I'll be able to change him into something…more acceptable."

"Charlotte…"

"We can't all be you."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Elizabeth demanded, the threads containing her ire rapidly snapping.

"Elizabeth the Excellent who has it all: superior intelligence, professional success, musical talent and to top it all off, the devotion of William Darcy."

Elizabeth glared at Charlotte, beyond insulted and just let her go on, digging her own pit.

"It's not easy being friends with such a paragon. I'm surprised you've tolerated my presence, failure as I am, at so many things."

"We've been friends for a long time," Elizabeth replied through gritted teeth. Her implied question was why Charlotte was dropping all of this on her now, and why she was trying so hard to end their friendship.

"I've come to realise it was a lot easier to be your friend when I didn't actually have to see you," Charlotte said, referring to Elizabeth's time overseas.

The words were like a slap across Elizabeth's face.

Charlotte continued, trying to justify her behaviour to herself at least. She spoke almost without thinking about her words, or how logical they were; any thought of fairness did not concern her. "I'm sure you will manage without me just fine. No doubt it will even be a relief, not that you would ever admit it. But you think yourself above my brother; how can I help thinking you feel you are too good for me, too?"

"That is complete rot Charlotte and you know it!"

"Do I? Well, if you say so; you are so much better at understanding things than I am, naturally."

"You've said quite enough, Charlotte," Elizabeth said, her voice both angry and hurt. She stood, preparing to remove herself from the situation.

Charlotte followed suit, turned to the server who was approaching with their starter course and spat, "I won't be staying." She grabbed her things and stormed out of the restaurant.

Elizabeth stood silently for a moment while the server gaped at her.

Mr Mallon had seen the last part of the confrontation and was at Elizabeth's side a moment after Charlotte left.

"Dr Bennet," he said softly and for her ear only, "would you like to leave? Or you could join me at my table."

Elizabeth followed his hand as he gestured and saw he had just been served. She cleared her throat and then said, mustering all the dignity she could, "That would be best, I suppose. There is no reason not to enjoy our meals." To the server she said, "I'll move over. Please do put the cancelled order on my bill."

Mr Mallon led her over and the server followed them, depositing Elizabeth's salad and efficiently moving over her drink.

After a moment sitting in silence, Elizabeth said, "Please don't let me interrupt you. Feel free to continue what it was you were doing." Mr Mallon's iPod was on the table and he had been watching something on it, Elizabeth determined.

"I was just catching up with some podcasts; nothing that can't wait," he replied.

"What was it on?" Elizabeth asked politely, her attention divided. She was still shocked by the unexpected argument with Charlotte, but hoped to use his response to pull her out of it.

He explained it was a current events show. "I'm not much of a reader," he said. "It helps me keep up with what's going on in the world." He spoke a little about the convenience of media players and podcasts, especially with his job and the occasions he had to wait or during his driving time.

Elizabeth asked how he had come to work for William. It was a way to keep the conversation going and that was helping her recover her equilibrium.

"Luck, I guess. I certainly consider myself lucky to have the job. I was working part-time at a driving service when I heard about it. Mr Darcy wanted someone who could also help around the house – doing repairs and so forth – and I've done it all, so…" He explained some of the jobs he had had.

Elizabeth smiled lightly. "How did you end up with so many different skills? If you don't mind me asking, of course." Elizabeth knew he did do an awful lot around the house, including taking care of the cars, but also undertaking various repairs.

"No, no," he assured her between bites.

The server came and removed their salad plates. Elizabeth hadn't even realised she was eating hers, but the plate was empty so she must have.

"I was rotten at school," Mr Mallon went on. "When I was a teenager, I was finally told I had a learning disability, but by then the damage had been done, I'm afraid. I didn't like it and although I made it through, I had no interest in going further. I'm still not much of a reader, so I listen to a lot of podcasts and things."

Their main meals were served.

"And you enjoy working at the house?" Elizabeth said, part question, part statement.

"Oh yeah," he replied. "Mr Darcy is a great boss. Lynn has become a good friend, like an older sister, really."

"Lynn?" Elizabeth asked. "Mrs Northmore?"

Mr Mallon nodded.

"I don't think I've ever heard her first name," Elizabeth explained. "It's a rather… formal household."

Mr Mallon chuckled. "I suppose so. After I started working for Mr Darcy, I told him he should call me Trevor. He said he would if I would call him by his first name. I couldn't possibly, I told him, and well… Mr Darcy and Mr Mallon it has been ever since. It's the same with Lynn."

He thought Elizabeth seemed the type to enjoy the story which is why he told her, and she did. She smiled and Mr Mallon could see a flash of fondness in her eyes as she thought of William. She seemed to relax a little and he was glad for that, too.

"Do you have much family?" Elizabeth asked him. "I've heard about Mrs Northmore's sister and niece, but…"

Mr Mallon nodded. "I have a younger brother. We don't get on much. He was always very ambitious and a mechanic-chauffeur-general handy man wasn't very impressive to him. Didn't fit his image of a big brother who would look good as he chased his dreams of becoming a successful business star." He looked at his plate and pushed his food around for a moment, looking both sad and angry. Elizabeth muttered an apology, which he waved off.

"It's ironic, of course, being as who I work for now. My brother tried to reconcile a few years back, but he was obviously hoping to get in with Mr Darcy."

"Oh dear," Elizabeth said sympathetically.

Mr Mallon shook his head. "I sent him packing pretty quick."

They ate in silence for a bit, Elizabeth pushing her food around more than eating.

"I expect he's got lots of people who try to do that kind of thing," Mr Mallon said.

Elizabeth nodded absently, her mind turning to Charlotte.

"I've lost a few friends over it. My job, I mean," Mr Mallon continued.

Elizabeth looked at him startled and he nodded. "Mates – some I thought of as really solid chaps. They were jealous. I got to live in this posh house, someone else cooks my meals, it's good pay, great boss, very low stress and they resented my good fortune."

"I'm so sorry," she replied and her empathy was easy to see.

Mr Mallon shrugged it off. "I've made other friends; Lynn of course, and others in the neighbourhood." Carefully he went on. "Your…uh…the lady you met; I imagine she might have been bit by the green-eyed monster, too."

Elizabeth looked at him and he could see in her eyes a wish to understand along with hurt and anger. "Do you think so? Did you hear?" She left the question unfinished.

"A little at the end," he admitted. "She wasn't being very quiet by then. But yes, I would bet on it."

He paused as the server took their plates, Elizabeth assuring him that she was done, although most of her dinner remained uneaten.

"We've been friends since I was twelve," Elizabeth said. "I don't understand." It was that, perhaps, that bothered her the most.

"Not very happy in her life, I expect," Mr Mallon suggested. If he could help her, he certainly would. He genuinely liked Elizabeth, beyond knowing how important she was to his boss. She was such a caring person and he hated to see her upset as she obviously was.

Elizabeth looked at him, but didn't say anything for a minute or so and then she shrugged lightly.

"By comparison, I bet she feels pretty hard done by," Mr Mallon stated.

Elizabeth repeated, "I don't understand."

"Well, if you don't mind hearing my opinion?"

Elizabeth shook her head no.

"You're younger," he started and looked at her for confirmation which he got when she nodded. "More attractive, no doubt smarter; I've not met anyone as bright as you are." Elizabeth smiled accepting the compliment, but also a little embarrassed by his words. "Probably more successful," he added. Elizabeth nodded reluctantly. "And to top it all off, you have Mr Darcy."

Elizabeth didn't say anything, but he wasn't worried that he had offended her. She seemed to be considering his words before replying.

"I never thought of it that way," she finally said.

"It's not fair, or nice, but it isn't anything you can do anything about."

Elizabeth quickly looked away. His last statement seemed to hit a little too close to the heart of the matter. She had been wondering what she had done – or not done – to make Charlotte feel that she thought she was better than her, or her brother for that matter. She had rebuffed Christopher Lucas' attempts to get her into bed, but that was never based on a feeling of superiority; she simply was not interested in the type of affair he had been seeking. She had told Charlotte that more than once. Perhaps, though, she decided, it was just another excuse Charlotte had used; another justification for ending their friendship.

After requesting Elizabeth's opinion on the matter, Mr Mallon asked for their bill. They paid and left. During the drive home, Elizabeth encouraged Mr Mallon to put on his podcast again, suggesting he plug it into the car's audio system so they could both enjoy it. He asked if she wanted to go to the house or her flat, thinking she might want to see William after her argument with her friend, but she immediately said her flat. She had plans with William the next day and he was likely still with Charles in any case, she explained. What Elizabeth really wanted to do was go home and push all thought of the argument and her failed friendship from her mind and that is what she did.

Chapter 44. Elizabeth and William fight

Posted on 2010-08-18

On Wednesday Elizabeth threw herself into her work, putting Charlotte out of her mind. In the morning, before leaving for her office, she had a flash of telling Jane about her disastrous dinner and at that point she resolved that dwelling on it would do her no good. In a day or so she would simply send Jane an email message. Speaking with William before she left for the office helped revive her spirits as well; she greatly anticipated seeing him that evening. She knew that just being with him would help her feel better.

She had lunch with Angus Blackstone who, once again, tried to get her to commit to more teaching with the department or at least talking about a transition to academia over the next few years. He believed that with her excellent teaching and research abilities it was where she belonged. She assured him, once again, it was not a move she was yet prepared to make, but she did agree to help out on a research project a couple of the faculty were planning. It was a pleasant enough meeting. Elizabeth thought of Angus as a mentor and was well-acquainted with his desire to see her in academia, so there were no surprises or discomfort associated with his plea.

William didn't get off quite as lightly. His dinner with Charles had been fine, if a bit over-loaded with discussion of his upcoming proposal to Jane. He talked a great deal about the trip to Hertfordshire for Jane's birthday and assured William, repeatedly, that everything would go smoothly this time. He had asked Jane and Jane felt, he emphasized, that the argument that had broken out between her mother and Elizabeth during the last visit was an exception. Fanny had been surprised and had reacted and spoken in haste and awkwardly and Elizabeth had been hurt and reacted accordingly. Jane was sure that this time, now that Fanny had a chance to get used to the news, things would go much more smoothly. William was not so sure.

Beyond the annoyance associated with thinking about the upcoming trip to Hertfordshire, even thought it was over a week away, his work days had been stressful. There was a lot of work to catch up on after having to focus so much of his attention on his uncle's passing. He had been up late Tuesday night, working for several hours after his dinner with Charles, and did not even stop for lunch Wednesday. Derek, his assistant, had pushed some food under his nose in the early afternoon and if he hadn't William would not have remembered to eat. The matter chiefly occupying his time that afternoon was a proposed venture with the Fitzwilliams. He had a meeting planned with his cousins Sterling and Richard the next day to discuss it and had spent hours already looking over the documentation; there were some time-sensitive elements to it so he could not simply put it off. Given his work load, he had not been able to devote as much time to it as he would like, which meant he was now rushing to understand and consider the implications of the proposal. His mind had wandered several times to Elizabeth and the relationship with his Fitzwilliam relatives. He was only able to refocus his mind on work by reiterating Elizabeth's belief that, with time, his relatives would become accustomed to her presence in his life and their animosity would diminish. He had to believe it; he did not have the energy or time to consider what he would do if the tension continued or got worse.

Elizabeth met William at his house for dinner. He didn't think to question her unspoken request for a prolonged embrace. In fact, he hoped it was because she missed him (she did of course) and, especially after being together all of the previous week, was realising life would be better if they lived together. Having had his own stressful start to the week, he also needed the contact.

They chatted a bit about their days. Elizabeth told him about her lunch with Angus and William about his dinner the night before with Charles.

"Did you mention Aunt Catherine to Charlotte?" he asked as he unpacked and sorted through some papers. They were awaiting the call for dinner in his study.

"Mmm," she replied not really wanting to talk about her evening with her now (it would seem) former friend.

"I imagine she is a difficult boss," he said.

Elizabeth again made a noncommittal noise. Seeking to change the topic, she said, "What time is the party Saturday? I've forgotten."

"It starts at four. We're expected to stay for dinner."

Elizabeth nodded.

"Just the family will be at dinner, though."

"Right," Elizabeth said, already steeling herself for another encounter with the Fitzwilliams. From someone who thinks I think I'm too good for her to a whole host of people who think I'm not good enough for them. Yippee! she thought sarcastically. Her thoughts must have been reflected on her face.

"What's wrong?" William asked in his deep, serious tone.

"Nothing," Elizabeth said, shaking herself out of her negative thoughts. "It…uh…it sounds like a lovely party. If the weather holds, it will be lovely." The party was planned for the gardens of a large hotel.

"Yes, I suppose," William said, sitting back in his chair behind the desk to look at her.

Elizabeth started to feel uncomfortable under his scrutiny and quipped, "Do you think this aunt will acknowledge me or will she look right through me like your Aunt Margaret does?"

"Elizabeth…"

"It was just a joke, William," she said a bit too casually. She was feeling bruised by her experience with Charlotte and it obviously showed, although William could not understand what was wrong. He accepted her words at face value and returned his attention to his papers.

"We both know the Fitzwilliams don't like me. It will hardly make a difference if your Aunt Catherine feels the same," Elizabeth continued.

"They'll come around," he said dismissively. After all, it was Elizabeth that repeatedly pushed the position that everyone would leave them alone once they got used to their relationship. His mind occupied by other matters, he was not going to worry about it now. She knew why they had a hard time with her presence in his life; it wasn't really worth talking about again, not when he had this problem about work gnawing at the back of his mind…

He returned to sorting through his papers, retrieving the most pressing one. It related to the business venture his Fitzwilliam cousins wanted to enter into. His attention returned to the details that were bothering him and his focus shifted from Elizabeth to them.

"And if they don't?" she said, looking at him with a challenge flashing in her eyes. "I'll never be what they want for you."

"They just have to get to know you," William said curtly. "They'll realise they don't have a choice." He continued scanning his papers. He looked up briefly when she didn't reply and caught her rolling her eyes.

"You know their perspective," he added offhandedly as he returned his attention to his papers. He meant 'I'm sure you know what their problem is; we have discussed it before.'

His tone, to Elizabeth however, sounded dismissive and she did not appreciate it.

When he added, "You come from a very different background than I do," and still did not look at her, she felt very defensive.

To her, his words added up to 'Their concerns are justifiable.' She had not forgotten him telling her that he had realised he was in love with her in November. When he told her, as his uncle lay slowly dying in the hospital, it had not been the time to ask him why it took him so long to ask her out. Now – her ego bruised by Charlotte's vindictiveness combined with the memory and the words he had just spoken, so offhandedly – she felt defensive and angry.

"I beg your pardon?" Elizabeth said and the hint of ice in her voice should have been unmistakable and yet William managed to miss it.

"Well, you do; there is no denying it. They think I should be with someone like them, or their daughters, I suppose."

"But instead, here I am much to their chagrin."

"Yes," he replied automatically, his eyes trained on the papers in his hands.

"And did you expect to end up with someone like them?" Elizabeth asked her voice becoming strained.

"I suppose I did. It was what was expected of me," William replied; he didn't stop to think through his words or how they might be received. "You surprised me."

He still did not look up from his papers and his inattention added to Elizabeth's growing ire. Her tone apparently failed to register with him.

"Instead here I am," she reiterated, "from the wrong background" – she said the word as though it was dirty – "the wrong family; generally I'm just wrong."

William let out a single, snorted laugh. "I can hardly imagine your mother and my aunts in the same room." He shuddered at the thought.

"Is that seriously how you see me?" she barked.

He looked at her, his expression saying he didn't know what she meant.

"That somehow I come from an inferior background? That your family's dismissal is justified because of it?"

"Elizabeth," he said dismissively.

"I won't be with someone who doesn't see me as their equal in every way," she said her voice growing a little louder and decidedly firmer.

William felt himself growing frustrated and responded more harshly than he should have; she was being obtuse, he felt. "You're being ridiculous, Elizabeth. You know I think no such thing."

"Do I? Do you, really? Why is it that it took you so long to ask me out then? You told me yourself, not a fortnight ago, that you knew you were in love with me in November. November! And yet you did nothing about it until January. Why?"

William had no response to this. He did not want to talk about, let alone think about, the struggles he had gone through. A look of guilt flashed across his face and Elizabeth read it very easily.

"That's what I thought," Elizabeth said. "You need to think about this very carefully and be very, very certain because I won't – I won't – be with anyone who judges my value that way. If you can't be sure that you no longer feel that way… It would hurt," her voice broke momentarily. "It would hurt a lot, but I will walk away now rather than stay with someone who doesn't see me as their equal; I won't condemn either of us to that fate." The example of her parents alone would drive Elizabeth away from any unequal relationship.

William sat, stunned, looking at her.

"I'm going home," she said, moving to her work bag. "I suggest you think about what you really believe and then you can let me know."

She barrelled out of the room and down the stairs toward the front door. She passed by an astonished Mrs Northmore who was just about to announce that dinner was ready.

Elizabeth walked over a street and hailed a taxi. She didn't know that Mr Mallon followed her to be sure she was safe, only returning to the house after he saw her off. Back at her flat, she quickly threw off her work clothes and donned a pair of lounge pants and a t-shirt. She slammed around her apartment, using her anger to keep her pain at bay. Coherent thoughts were rather scarce, but she remembered both the times she thought of William as arrogant and those when he was open and loving; she thought about the long years of her friendship with Charlotte, and Charlotte's cruel words the evening before. She thought of the Fitzwilliams and their disdain and all of the people who implied that William was simply using her or suffering from an infatuation that would burn out. She thought about the many, many times her mother had told her how disappointing she was. Most of all, she tried not to think about how much she loved William and how afraid she was that she would lose him.

William remained seated at his desk. He told Mrs Northmore he wasn't hungry. He thought about his words and Elizabeth's accusations. His heart screamed that he did acknowledge that Elizabeth was his equal in every way that mattered, while his brain steadfastly demanded he think the matter through carefully and that Elizabeth deserved it. He had to be ready to tell her he had done so before facing her. And so he thought, as much as he didn't want to, about his early dismissal of Elizabeth and his struggle to accept that she – so contrary to all of his expectations – was the woman he loved and wanted to be with. He even remembered the night at the opera when Caroline Bingley's insulting words about the Bennet sisters had shaken him and made him realise that perhaps he had absorbed too much of the elitism he disliked in his relations.

It didn't take very long before he ran through every argument he had had with himself in the autumn and early winter and to his relief he came to the same conclusion he had then: he loved Elizabeth, could not imagine ever feeling the same about another woman and yes, felt she was – in all ways that truly mattered – his equal. He might not like the Bennets, but he had no qualms about her.

Having determined this, he set off to tell Elizabeth.

When Elizabeth heard a knock on her door, she knew it was William. With some trepidation she opened the door. They stood for a moment just looking at each other. William's expression was resolute; Elizabeth's a combination of sadness, apprehension and stubbornness. William stepped into the flat and Elizabeth closed the door.

"Elizabeth," he said softly, his voice infused with the love he felt for her. She closed her eyes and let the sound of it envelop her, washing away the last of her anger.

"I love you," he continued earnestly. "I love you. And I do, I do think of you as my equal." He cupped the side of her face with one of his large hands and Elizabeth leaned into it. "You have to know that."

Elizabeth turned and walked further into the room.

"My words," he went on, "I did not mean them the way they obviously sounded."

"Will," she said interrupting him, "I…I…"

"You can't really believe I think…"

"I heard you."

"Well then?"

"Not today," she said aggravated and when he stopped she went on, her voice sounding weary. "A long time ago; back in September when we met; that night at the restaurant. I was looking for Charles and I overheard you on the phone. You were being completely dismissive of Jane, of me, without even meeting us. That whole night you were arrogant and disdainful. It was so obvious you thought yourself better than me; you couldn't even be bothered to talk to me or to hide your distaste when we did talk."

"Elizabeth," William said weakly. He had blocked out that horrid night. Before he could say more, she went on.

"I thought later, once you told me about Georgiana, that you were probably such an arse when we met because you were dealing with all of her problems."

"You never said anything," he said upset that now, after all of the months they had been together, she was bringing it up, but mostly embarrassed by the reminder of just how awful he had been.

"It…it never seemed to be the right time. For a long time it didn't matter; we weren't friends even really."

William felt stung by her words, but didn't have time to think about them as she immediately continued.

"And in January, when we started spending time together, I thought about it at first, but I didn't want to upset anything. We seemed to be getting on so well and I was enjoying myself, getting to know you. I pushed it all to the back of my mind, even after meeting your family. But, I guess I hadn't forgotten about it as well as I thought I had."

"I was in a rotten mood that night, I've told you that, and yes, it was because of Georgiana. I had just gotten her settled in Edinburgh, I was worried sick about her and I really didn't want to be there, but Charles insisted."

"And then, all of the weeks after?" she asked, feeling like she needed to settle this issue fully, as much as it was unpleasant and even a little frightening. "All of the times you were barely civil to me? The time you drove me back to London and brushed off my questions? I know what you were thinking."

William looked away, embarrassed and annoyed, but knowing she was right to ask. "I don't, I'm not…I'm not good with new people."

They both knew it was a weak explanation.

"You told me," Elizabeth paused to swallow, trying hard to keep her tears at bay, "you told me you realised last November you were in love with me. That was weeks, weeks before you even asked me out. And people don't just spontaneously realise they love someone. You have to have had some clue that you liked me or…or something. Why?"

"Elizabeth, I…" There was a pause while Elizabeth waited and William tried to gather his words. "I…I will admit that I struggled with my feelings for you."

He heard a hurt exclamation from Elizabeth and looked up in time to see her move to sit on her sofa, obviously trying to school her features into a neutral expression.

"Yes, I expected to end up with someone like my cousins, someone who…who came from a background more like my own. It is the expectation I was raised with, what I was taught was appropriate and what I was told, repeatedly, was the only path to happiness; someone like me, someone who came from wealth and a so-called proper family, someone who would understand my life and fit into it."

He walked over and sat next to Elizabeth, taking one of her hands, although she resisted. She wouldn't look at him. She felt angry, insulted and hurt. William was determined to make her understand.

"But," he said insistently, "I soon realised, after meeting you and coming to know you, just how absolutely ridiculous that line of thinking is. I fell in love with you, I dream of a life with you – not any of the multitude of women like my cousins or who belong to my so-called circle. Some of them are even very nice and educated and interested in the world beyond parties and fashion. But none of them have ever affected me the way you do."

"That's not the point," she said in a strained voice.

William sighed and tried to find the words to explain. "I felt myself drawn to you and I realised it was because you offer me everything I need. It isn't, it never has been, about…about what my aunt talked about at dinner for example, someone who 'understands my life' or can support me. That's not what I need or want. You…you've shown me what really matters, what I can have, someone who…who fits me, the person that I am, not the life that I lead; there's a difference. Please Elizabeth; you know I'm rotten at explaining how I feel."

Elizabeth looked at him and he saw tears gathered in her eyes. She fixed him with an intense stare and said, "Tell me that you've resolved those doubts, the ones that kept you from approaching me for so long. Tell me that you have really, truly resolved them."

"I have," he whispered earnestly. "I have." He laughed a little sardonically. "Oddly enough, it was something that Caroline Bingley said that really opened my eyes to how completely skewed my thinking was becoming."

She looked at him questioningly.

"At the beginning of December, when we went to see Rigoletto, she took the occasion to insult you and Jane. Why she thought I would approve of her ill-informed, ill-mannered slurs, I do not know, but listening to her, I became horrified at the idea that I could ever, even in my thoughts, have sounded like her. It really caused me to question what I was so concerned about."

He paused and watched Elizabeth closely to try to judge her reaction.

"I think," he went on, "I know, I used Georgiana's situation as an excuse. I told myself it was the wrong time to become involved with anyone, that I should focus on her, on work, on anything other than my attraction to you."

"Why?" Elizabeth asked, her voice sounding rough as though she still might cry.

"Because…because I've never felt like this before and I suppose I needed time to…to be comfortable with the sensation."

Elizabeth didn't say anything, but continued to study him.

"You needed time, do you remember telling me that it – us – was something you needed time to get used to?" he said.

Elizabeth nodded.

"I needed that, too."

"Before you even asked me out," Elizabeth reminded him, knowing the reasons for his need for time were very different than her own had been. He had questioned her suitability to be part of his life; she had needed time to get to know him and to become comfortable with her growing feelings for him.

William had nothing to say to that. After a moment just looking at each other, he repeated his earlier plea, "Please, Elizabeth. I love you."

This time, Elizabeth couldn't resist and she leaned into him, removing her hand from his so that she could wrap her arms around his waist. His arms easily found their way around her torso and he pulled her tightly to him.

"I love you, too," she said with a catch in her voice.

He tried to pull away a little bit, to look at her and see if she was crying and to judge, by the look in her eyes, if all was well between them. She resisted. He felt her shake her head and tighten her grip. They sat like this for a few minutes. Elizabeth then did release him and, her head bowed, tried to surreptitiously wipe a few stray tears off her face. It broke his heart to think that he had hurt her.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I feel like I've completely over-reacted."

William didn't reply for a moment. "I wish you didn't doubt me," he finally said and the pain he felt was evident in his voice.

"I don't," she insisted. "I…" her voice trailed off. There was a brief silence and then she blurted out, "I had a fight with Charlotte last night."

"What?" William said, surprised by this news.

Elizabeth briefly explained that Charlotte had obviously been in an irritable mood and gave him an overview of her words.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, confused and again a little hurt. It always took her time – too much by his estimation – before she told him of any upset.

She shrugged in reply. "I suppose I still felt battered by it and then when we talked earlier and…and I jumped a little too quickly and firmly on your words."

William, his hands holding her upper arms, leaned over and kissed the top of her head, resting his cheek on her hair. "No," he said, "it was something looming over us and perhaps it was best to deal with it. Maybe not like this…"

"The memories from when I first met you seemed to come flooding back and especially the question of why you waited so long to approach me and I just…Regardless, I shouldn't have walked away like I did," Elizabeth interjected, upset with herself.

"And I should have paid more attention to my words, to you. I was so wrapped up in some silly work issue and I should have noticed you were upset. I should never have behaved as I did in the autumn, after I told you about November, I should have explained…"

Elizabeth interrupted him before he could go on berating himself. "No, Will…"

"No, Elizabeth, it's true. If anyone is to blame for this evening, it is me and I am sorry. And you know, please tell me you know what Charlotte said was complete rot. It was a reflection on her, not you."

"I know," Elizabeth said, her tone not quite matching her words. The truth was, Elizabeth had been deeply affected by Charlotte's words; rather than feeling herself too good for Charlotte, she was left feeling not good enough, although these feelings would not be vocalised.

"I don't presume to understand what drove her to say such things to you," William stated angrily, "but anyone who could say them…"

"I know," she said, stopping his words. "Mr Mallon suggested she was unhappy and jealous, plain and simple, and I can't do anything about that." William had looked at her with some surprise when she said his driver's name.

"Mr Mallon?" he questioned and Elizabeth explained his role in the evening.

"Oh," he replied, not entirely sure how he felt knowing his driver had been there to help Elizabeth through the dissolution of a long-standing friendship. He would much rather have been there personally, but told himself he was grateful that at least someone he trusted had been by her side.

Elizabeth moved toward William again and put her head down on his shoulder. William began to place soft kisses on the top and side of her head.

"Okay?" he asked softly and Elizabeth knew he meant it as a question about them as much as simply about her.

She nodded and pulled away, resting her hands on either side of his waist and somehow, naturally, their lips met and they shared a long, slow, comforting kiss.

"I love you," Elizabeth whispered and they kissed again, deeper and more passionately this time. Their need for reassurance – to feel and give love – grew as their embrace deepened and before long Elizabeth stood and taking William's hands in hers, led them into her bedroom.

William determinedly pushed the words she had said at his house – that she would walk away from their relationship if she felt it necessary – out of his mind. He would not lose her. Elizabeth trapped and boxed up her doubts, firmly securing the thoughts that threatened her self-confidence, allowing it to reign again.

Afterwards, both felt much better; bruised perhaps, but much, much better. With William's assistance, Elizabeth tossed together a simple and very late dinner which they ate in bed, snuggling together and enjoying the intimacy.

Elizabeth woke once during the night. She was awake very briefly, but the sight of William in her bed reminded her that she had meant to ask her uncle about their visit to the Gardiner home and what he and William had talked about. She dismissed her forgetfulness and crossed the task off her mental to-do list; whatever had been bothering William at the weekend seemed to have passed. No doubt it had simply been a reaction to the stress and grief of the proceeding days.

Both William and Elizabeth felt a little shaken on Thursday, but by talking and sending email messages back and forth over the course of the day, they recovered from their argument. They were not able to see each other that evening; William had a work dinner-meeting that could not be changed. They spoke one last time late that day, and the act of running through their plans for the weekend made both of them feel more connected.

Friday evening they attended a dinner for patrons of a local museum. William had, through BGD, donated substantially and this evening was to thank him and other major contributors. He generally avoided such events, allowing a board member to go as a representative, but he felt he needed to attend personally on occasion. It was a dry, boring affair, with a great deal of hand shaking and self-congratulations and both he and Elizabeth were glad when it was over and they could retreat to his house.

Saturday morning started overcast, with the promise of clearing in the afternoon. Not having anything in particular planned until the party that afternoon, William and Elizabeth decided to have a quiet start to the day. They stayed in bed, making love, eating breakfast and enjoying the time alone. With the rest of their time they read and talked and Elizabeth did some playing on both the flute and piano.

They did not speak about the party. Both knew it was likely to have its mortifying moments, but after their argument earlier in the week, neither wished to risk any disagreement between them. It would be whatever it was and they would cope with it.

They went and dressed each with private thoughts of dread. Elizabeth hoped everyone – William and her included – could manage to behave appropriately and that the Fitzwilliams were not too obvious in their dislike. William struggled with a way to support Elizabeth and ensure she did not doubt his sentiments without causing an absolute break with his mother's family.

He donned a light grey suit, selecting a shirt and a tie with a distracted air as he was thinking through his conundrum. Having reached little resolution, he pushed these thoughts aside and focused on his tie, having had to undo his first knot and start again due to his inattention. He then slipped something into his pocket and waited for Elizabeth.

Elizabeth had found a very spring-like outfit for the party. She wasn't convinced the female Fitzwilliams would think it stylish enough, but she didn't particularly care; she liked it. It consisted of a linen skirt, falling just below her knees, that was primarily white with lively flowers and other foliage in a mix of blues, pinks and purples. She wore a solid knit sleeveless sweater in a purple tone and a matching cardigan with three-quarter length sleeves. When William saw her, he smiled and breathed easier. The tension over his family's possible behaviour dissipated. She was his and he would not let that change.

She stopped and smiled at him, letting his eyes sweep over her. The love and appreciation in his look warmed her. She would need to be sure he realised she was okay during the party. He would worry, especially after Wednesday evening, and she didn't want that. She also took in his appearance. He was truly beautiful and at times like this – just quiet moments when they were together – her love for him hit her so hard it almost hurt and it certainly frightened her. She pushed both reactions aside and walked over to where he was sitting. He rose as she approached and she reached up to hold his face in her hands, drawing it down so that she could softly kiss him.

"You look beautiful," he whispered and, as always, Elizabeth shook her head slightly.

She then smiled and said, "I was just about to tell you the same."

She looked at him with a teasing glint in her eyes and he leaned over again to kiss her laughing mouth, pulling her closer with the hand that rested in the small of her back. The other hand was busy extracting a box from his jacket pocket, as Elizabeth discovered when he stepped back and held it out to her.

She arched her eyebrows as she looked between his face and the box a couple of times.

"William, what have you done?" she asked her tone mock-serious. Her look was one of loving resignation.

"It's just a little something I saw," he said giving her such a look of love that, even if she had been so inclined, she could not be upset with him. "It made me think of you," he added. "Open it."

Elizabeth did to find 'it' was a stunning bracelet. On the whole it was lovely – elegant and understated. Upon inspection, it was a delicate piece of work; white gold designed into a chain of flower blossoms and leaves joined by delicate metal vines, small coloured diamonds dotted along its length – yellow, pink, blue, violet, green and translucent. It no doubt was very, very expensive, although Elizabeth knew that was not why William had selected it.

"It's beautiful, William," she said earnestly as he took it from her and fastened it about her wrist. With a smile on his face, he examined it. She caressed his cheek and kissed him gently. "Thank you."

He smiled happily in reply and after satisfied with his study of how the bracelet looked on her, they kissed lightly for a moment.

Elizabeth, still holding his upper arms while his hands rested on her waist, said hesitantly, "Will, love, this doesn't have anything to do with the other day, does it? Because…"

His shaking head stopped her words. "No. I saw it a little while ago, just after you left for Switzerland. It wasn't really a good time then, but now – I wanted you to have it."

Elizabeth was reassured. "You shouldn't spoil me," she teased.

He smiled indulgently. "I doubt you could be ruined by a few trinkets."

Elizabeth didn't reply, but reached up to give him another kiss.

Still leaning into her, William added, "I can and I like to. Please don't ask me to stop."

Elizabeth smiled lovingly and wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. "I wouldn't dream of it," she said lazily, acknowledging how much pleasure he derived from buying her things. William smiled into her hair.

After a moment, they separated and Elizabeth admired her new bracelet. It was lovely, and the price wasn't the relevant issue; the fact that he wanted to give her something, a token of his love, was.

"As much as I hate to say it," William said, "we really should go."

"It will be fine," Elizabeth replied reassuringly. "Not the way we might choose to spend our afternoon and evening, but…it will be fine."

He watched her with some chagrin as she spoke and then said, drolly, "Why is it you always need to reassure me before we see my family? That alone tells me it won't be fine."

Elizabeth laughed a little, recognising the slightly morbid humour of the situation. She couldn't help thinking it would be much worse the following weekend when they went to Hertfordshire.

They left soon afterwards, Mr Mallon dropping them off at the party venue. As a member of the immediate family, his aunts (both Margaret and Catherine) had wanted him to arrive early, but he had successfully demurred, citing his great uncle's recent death. Attending as a guest was one thing; to be seen as a more active host or celebrant was not appropriate. The excuse also gave them a ready reason to leave early if needed. Both kept this thought firmly in mind as they arrived at the party.

A number of people were already in attendance when William and Elizabeth arrived at the engagement party for Anne de Bourgh and Jeremy Burnett. They spotted the two elder Fitzwilliams immediately. Another woman was standing with them and her resemblance to Philip made Elizabeth jump to the conclusion that it was Catherine de Bourgh. With a look of resignation on his face, William led Elizabeth over to them, knowing they should greet his older relatives first. They would then have to find Anne and Jeremy to offer their congratulations.

When they were still some ten paces away, Catherine spoke to them – or more accurately, William.

"Nephew, there you are! I expected you to be here sooner. It is unlike you to have so little regard for punctuality."

"Aunt Catherine," William said, dutifully giving her a kiss on the cheek she proffered. Elizabeth thought she caught the end of an eye roll from Philip.

"William, dear," Margaret Fitzwilliam said next, drawing his attention to her.

"Aunt Margaret," he said, giving her a hello kiss.

"How are you, my darling?" she went on, sounding sympathetic and placing a hand on his arm. She looked almost condescendingly concerned. "You look so tired. How are you holding up?" Her eyes flashed to Elizabeth briefly, turning quickly from concern to hostility and back to concern as she looked at her nephew again.

"For goodness sake, Margaret, don't coddle the boy," Catherine interjected. "He is a Fitzwilliam and quite capable of handling the death of a great uncle. Edgar has been dying for years in any event; it was hardly a surprise."

"Where is your sympathy, Catherine? William needs our support," Margaret said, once again looking at Elizabeth, accusingly this time. Elizabeth supposed she was somehow failing to properly support William, according to Margaret's standards at least.

"Aunt Catherine," William said, his voice slightly raised. "May I introduce Elizabeth Bennet? Elizabeth, this is my aunt, Catherine de Bourgh. Of course you've met Aunt Margaret and Uncle Philip."

Philip Fitzwilliam shook William's hand and said a solemn, "Elizabeth," nodding at her.

William looked at both of his aunts, waiting expectantly for them to acknowledge Elizabeth. Margaret deigned to nod her head in Elizabeth's direction; Catherine narrowed her eyes and studied her carefully. She opened her mouth to say something, but William pulled Elizabeth away before she could, citing a desire to congratulate Anne and Jeremy.

As they walked away, William said, "My aunts are rather competitive with each other."

"Oh," Elizabeth said simply.

"Both have rather…decided opinions."

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, but did not say anything. Glancing back, she saw the two women deep in conversation, their eyes pointed at her. Philip had moved on.

They found Anne and Jeremy standing side-by-side accepting the good wishes of various people. Anne looked like she had at Sterling's party, Elizabeth thought: bored and boring. She offhandedly accepted the congratulations William and Elizabeth offered. Jeremy Burnett, by contrast, seemed most interested in chatting with William. He greeted Anne's cousin warmly, twice mentioned becoming part of the family and requested a moment of William's time during the party or at dinner.

William soon had the two of them on the move again, letting out a sigh of relief once they were out of sight of the couple. He admitted to Elizabeth that he didn't particularly like Jeremy and suspected his new cousin-to-be wanted his support, financial and otherwise, for his political ambitions. William was not prepared to offer either.

They moved through the growing crowd, greeting various people, some of whom Elizabeth remembered from other events, others who were new to her.

"William, Elizabeth," they heard Victoria Fitzwilliam call. Together they walked over to William's cousin. With her was a woman Elizabeth immediately recognised from the St Johns' dinner they had attended in March. She had been one of the rude women in the loo after dinner. It was clear that William remembered as well and he took Elizabeth's hand firmly in his and a near-scowl appeared on his face.

William greeted his cousin and nodded at the other woman, muttering, "Cassandra."

"Elizabeth, I don't believe you have met my dear friend, Cassandra. Cassie, this is Elizabeth, my cousin's…" her voice trailed off. William looked at her pointedly, upset that she didn't just admit the relationship between him and Elizabeth.

Cassandra gave Elizabeth an insincere smile and quickly looked her over before turning her attention to William. Affecting a sympathetic attitude, she offered her condolences and asked after his well-being.

While she was doing this, Victoria had also been examining Elizabeth and summed up her conclusion by saying, "Nice. Where did you get it?"

Elizabeth assumed she was referring to her outfit and named the store. Victoria nodded, granting a restrained approval.

"Elizabeth has provided all of the support I need, I assure you," William said sternly, his voice icy.

It drew Elizabeth's attention as well as Victoria's. He was obviously displeased with something Cassandra had said and he gripped Elizabeth's hand a little too firmly. She reached over to put her free hand on his arm as a gentle reminder, noticing as she did the unhappy look Cassandra gave her.

"Vicky, darling," Margaret Fitzwilliam said, approaching the group.

At the same time Victoria said to Elizabeth, "That's a very pretty little bracelet," and reached out to take Elizabeth's arm so that she could more closely examine it.

Margaret joined her daughter in her inspection, as did Cassandra.

"Thank you," Elizabeth said, trying not to be annoyed at having her arm grabbed and examined like a lab specimen.

All three women then turned their eyes to William. It was obvious to them that it was a pricey piece. It was Victoria who asked if it had been a gift from him.

"Yes," he said shortly.

"Humph," Margaret said.

"Was it your birthday?" Victoria asked again, looking at Elizabeth.

"Elizabeth's birthday was last month," William replied for her. "This was just a gift."

He looked at Elizabeth and she returned his look, a smile breaking out on her face. He was trying, in his own way, to make it clear that Elizabeth was very important to him and she had no wish to hide her love for him, although she would always show some restraint in any public setting.

Neither Margaret nor Cassandra was pleased. The former because she wanted what she defined as better for him; she was not yet ready to accept Elizabeth. Cassandra was upset because she had hoped and expected Elizabeth to be a thing of the past by now. She was quite prepared to have a go at landing the very eligible (defined by her as being rich and not married) man. Based on his attitude it didn't seem as though there was much point in trying. She was ready to settle down, and William was on her list of possible marriage partners.

Victoria was becoming accustomed to Elizabeth's presence and didn't particularly care, she had decided, if her cousin was having an affair with her. She hoped William wouldn't make the mistake she once had and get married, but if he did, well, he would have to live with the consequences. Unfortunately in his case the consequences, when the relationship failed as she expected it would, could be very expensive. Her belief had nothing to do with Elizabeth; Victoria had little faith in marriage and had come to believe it was not a relevant institution for the younger generation. If one had to get married, it should be to someone of equal financial standing; that way neither party would significantly gain or lose upon divorce.

"Very pretty," Victoria repeated, releasing Elizabeth's arm. "Does my cousin often do that? Just give you gifts?"

Elizabeth smiled, straining to contain a tease; it didn't seem appropriate. "Yes," she said. "I understand from Georgiana that he is prone to doing the same for her."

"Oh that's right, you visited Georgie!" William's cousin exclaimed. "Tell me, how was she? We don't talk much."

"Victoria, I require your assistance," Margaret interrupted, having heard quite enough. She thought it might be time to remind her daughter that they did not approve of Elizabeth. The two Fitzwilliams left, and without saying anything, Cassandra moved off in another direction.

Over the next little while, Elizabeth and William became separated and she saw both Richard and Sterling. Sterling approached her first and nodded a greeting, immediately asking, "Have you talked to Rebecca recently?"

"Hello Sterling," she replied. "Not directly, but we have exchanged several email messages."

He nodded again. "How does she seem?"

"She says she's doing all right. I have no reason not to believe that and William, who has spoken to her, said she was coping well."

"Right," he said shortly. "Where is my cousin?" He looked around aimlessly.

"I saw him a minute ago talking to Jeremy."

Sterling rolled his eyes very noticeably. "Oh god; I can only imagine how well that's going," he said sarcastically and walked away.

"What did my brother want?" a voice behind her demanded.

Gritting her teeth, Elizabeth turned to see Richard. She really regretted that William was not with her.

"Hello Richard," she said politely, although she could not hide the fact that she wasn't happy to see him.

After a pause he repeated, "My brother?"

"Why don't you ask him?" Elizabeth suggested. She was not prepared to maintain any semblance of politeness if he wasn't willing to even greet her properly.

"I understand you had a pleasant visit with Georgiana," he said, glaring at her.

"Yes," she replied matter-of-factly.

They stood, staring at each other, for a moment before Richard spoke again. "Shouldn't you be hanging onto William, making sure no one tries to steal him away?"

Elizabeth didn't bother to reply. "If you'll excuse me, I need to be somewhere else," she said and walked away.

A few minutes later, she was stopped by yet another member of the Fitzwilliam family, this time Catherine de Bourgh.

"So, you're the young woman who has ensnared my nephew, are you?"

Elizabeth barely had time to open her mouth before they were joined by Lord Halsley who interrupted in a loud voice.

"Elizabeth, my dear! I am very glad to see you again. Catherine, how are you?" he added, looking at the older woman with his eyebrows arched. He rested one hand lightly and protectively on Elizabeth's elbow.

"Alexander," Catherine replied, looking curiously between him and Elizabeth.

"Ahh, yes, you're wondering. I have had the pleasure of meeting Elizabeth a number of times now. William has done an outstanding job, I must say, of finding just the right woman for him. And now I'm afraid I must steal her away."

Without waiting for a reply, he led Elizabeth away and she went most willingly. As they walked, he explained.

"You'll excuse me for my officiousness, I hope. Catherine is worse than Margaret and I overheard her vowing to 'get to the bottom of this ridiculous affair' earlier on," he said, imitating Catherine de Bourgh's condescending tone. "I thought I might spare you the aggravation."

"Thank you," Elizabeth said, her voice expressing her relief.

"And I really do have need of your expertise, my dear. A question has arisen and as you are the expert…" He winked at her as they reached a group of older adults.

"I've found her!" Lord Halsley exclaimed. He introduced her to the group which included several prominent members of society. He told Elizabeth that they were having a debate about an environmental matter and needed her help to explain the issues so they could come to a better understanding.

Elizabeth happily spent the next half hour or so with them. William found her still engaged in conversation with them, the group having added a couple of more people, also Halsley's peers. William was known to them and when he appeared, he was greeted politely, several offering, in some cases again, their condolences on Edgar Darcy's passing. He caught Elizabeth's eye and she smiled reassuringly.

One man, a Lord Westmoreland, slapped him on the back and said, "You better not let this one get away, my lad. There will be a line up waiting to take your place, I wager. If I was a few years younger!" He laughed loudly.

Halsley caught Elizabeth's eye and gave her a mischievous look. She smiled in return.

"I have no intention of doing so, sir," William replied seriously.

He placed a hand on Elizabeth's back, glad to be near her again. He had been stuck in an unpleasant conversation with Jeremy Burnett. It had not been improved when Sterling joined them, subtly mocking Jeremy. Jeremy's father (Vernon) then joined them, wanting to talk business with William. Catherine followed, wanting to talk business with both Vernon and William. Jeremy quickly departed at that point, as did Sterling. It took William a little longer before he could escape.

After a few more minutes with the group, William managed to drag Elizabeth away, aided by Lord Halsley who could see William wanted some time alone with his lady. He pulled her out to a more-or-less secluded spot and asked for reassurances that she was managing all right. She explained that she had spent most of her time in Halsley's company and avoided mentioning her brief encounter with Richard.

They spent some more time together, chatting with various people. Nothing of consequence was said. There was talk of the lovely weather and the engaged couple. At one point, William was asked for a private moment by a business associate. After an encouraging smile from Elizabeth, he left her with a small group of his acquaintances, feeling confident she would be okay.

The group began to break up soon afterwards. As Elizabeth looked about, plotting her next move, she heard an unfamiliar voice to her side.

"Excuse me. Elizabeth?"

She turned to see a woman about her own age that looked vaguely familiar, although Elizabeth could not place her.

"I apologise for intruding, but I saw you had a moment and thought I would introduce myself. I'm Angelina Boyle."

The two women shook hands and Elizabeth regarded Angelina and then laughed lightly, realising she was looking at her rather intently.

"I'm sorry; you look familiar."

Angelina smiled in return. "I was at the St Johns' dinner earlier this year, although regrettably we did not have a chance to meet. I had hoped to after dinner, but you and William left rather quickly. Not that I blame you."

When Elizabeth raised her eyebrows in question, Angelina added, "I was in the loo after dinner and overhead Cassandra and her friends."

"Of course!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "I remember now."

When Cassandra and several of her friends had tried to intimidate Elizabeth with their boorish attitude, Angelina had smiled supportively at Elizabeth, just as she was exiting the loo. She had forgotten about the silent encounter quickly, however, in the face of Richard's hurtful words and her sudden trip to the US.

"I tried to catch up to you, but I was intercepted by an old friend of my mother's," Angelina explained, "and by the time we were finished, you had gone."

The two women smiled at each other in a friendly fashion and then fell into an easy conversation. Angelina explained that she knew William through some of her charitable work and Elizabeth remembered her name arising at the last dinner with the Fitzwilliams. Angelina rolled her eyes and asked if Margaret Fitzwilliam had implied that she and William had been involved at some point. When Elizabeth said yes, Angelina explained drolly that Margaret had repeatedly tried to push them together, despite the fact that she had been with her partner for ten years.

"Just because we choose not to marry, she considers me available. And quote 'suitable' for her nephew."

With this explanation, Angelina waved over her partner, Matthew Hewitt, and introduced the two. The three of them spent a few pleasant moments together before Philip Fitzwilliam interrupted. Angelina and Matthew departed, leaving Elizabeth and William's uncle alone.

They greeted each other again, restrained, but polite. Subconsciously Elizabeth began to look around for William, soon spotting his tall form standing next to his Aunt Margaret.

"I understand you were recently in Switzerland," Philip said. As always, Elizabeth found it very difficult to gauge the older man's thoughts.

When Elizabeth replied in the affirmative, he asked for her impressions of Gland, where she had been. Although she wasn't sure what he was looking for, it seemed he was carefully judging her responses.

"I happened to have lunch with Victor Malborough earlier this week," he said next, naming a government official in charge of the environment file. Elizabeth was familiar with him, having met him several times in regards to business matters.

The truth was Philip Fitzwilliam's lunch had not been coincidental. Elizabeth had mentioned a meeting at the Malborough's department and Philip, in his quest to learn more about his nephew's girlfriend, went digging for information.

"Oh yes?" Elizabeth said politely, not sure what he expected her to say.

"I mentioned your name. He was very complimentary about your work."

Elizabeth smiled lightly. "That's very generous of him given we rarely agree."

Philip regarded her closely, considering her casual reaction to the praise and her willingness to disagree with a man who was not only very much her senior, but who held an important government post and was known to wield considerable influence. In fact, Malborough had more than praised Elizabeth. He told Philip that he envied Global Nature for having secured her, given her first-rate mind and further astonished him by saying he would gladly offer Elizabeth any job she wished. He had said she would be 'a tremendous asset' to the public sector, would never compromise her principles, but was also focused on developing realistic approaches to improving environmental quality. Malborough didn't think Elizabeth was keen on the idea of working for the government, although he told Philip he hoped she would change her mind in a few years. He even thought her time outside of the system – building international ties to academic and non-governmental organisations – would be of considerable benefit if ("When," he said, crossing his fingers) she decided to join the public service.

"She's also a damn nice woman; that nephew of yours is a lucky man," Malborough had concluded.

Philip had been left with a great deal to contemplate. He next asked Elizabeth about her trip to Scotland to see Georgiana. They spoke of that for some minutes. Elizabeth was surprised at his almost friendly attitude, but was prepared to meet him in this; she would remain polite if he would. It could only help the dynamics among William, her and his family.

Elizabeth had lost sight of William during the conversation and began to search the room with her eyes. Philip noticed and guessed her intention. He pointed out where William stood, still with his aunt, but also now with a pair of young women who were chatting animatedly with Margaret. William stood stiff and silent. It was painfully obvious that his aunt was trying her hand at matchmaking again and that William was uncomfortable and angry, but too polite to be overt about it or walk away. Elizabeth sighed audibly and shook her head.

"You're not worried, are you?" Philip asked, studying her carefully. She remained as she was, watching William with an anxious look in her eyes.

"About Will?" she replied offhandedly. "Of course." She was thinking too much about William to bother with how his uncle might interpret her words.

"He hates this type of thing. And especially that," she added, nodding towards Margaret's obvious attempts to interest William in a 'suitable' woman of her choice.

"Hmm," Philip said noncommittally, still trying to come to a firm understanding of Elizabeth's character and motivations.

She quickly glanced at him before returning her eyes to William. Quietly and pointedly, and not caring if Philip liked it or not, she said, "You don't realise how much it hurts him."

Philip did not reply, but looked at her, his expression still unreadable as she noted when she turned to look at him. He caught a flash of anger in her eyes and couldn't help notice how intense they were.

After a moment he realised she had no intention of speaking. "What?" he asked.

"That none of you trust his judgement. That you care so little about his happiness."

They stared at each other for a moment before Elizabeth broke their eye contact, sighing and shaking her head again.

She muttered, "And now I'll be judged a clingy girlfriend, afraid of losing her rich boyfriend when really I'm going over to stop him from hurting himself."

Philip looked alarmed, his eyes darting from his nephew to Elizabeth, questioningly.

She explained, "He grinds his teeth when he is put in stressful situations, ones where he feels he is trapped and has to be polite. At the very least, he'll end up with a dreadful headache if he doesn't stop soon."

Philip looked more closely at William and to his surprise, noticed signs of tension he had never fully appreciated before. He continued to watch as Elizabeth walked over to William and gently placed a hand on his arm. When his nephew looked down at Elizabeth, he seemed to release a great sigh and much, but not all, of his stress ebbed away. Philip watched Elizabeth speak politely to Margaret and the young women William was being presented with. She smiled and even from his position, Philip was sure she had made a self-deprecating joke just before she led William away. He lost sight of them as he was accosted by his nephew-in-law-to-be, who wanted to talk politics.

The rest of the party passed relatively smoothly. It was soon time for the family-only dinner and William secured seats together for him and Elizabeth. They did not contribute much to the conversation which was dominated by Catherine and the two Burnett men. As soon as possible, William and Elizabeth took their leave, grateful to have the event over with. Neither spoke of the evening, but privately each thought it had gone as well as expected, better certainly than many other encounters with his family. They went back to William's house and despite the still relatively early hour, retired for the night, enjoying being alone once again.

Chapter 45. After the party & Family, family!

Posted on 2010-08-21

William and Elizabeth had exactly no plans for Sunday, a situation which suited them very well. The day was grey and it drizzled continually. They had a leisurely breakfast in bed before making their way downstairs to while away the morning with reading and music.

Elizabeth was playing some rather stormy Wagner on the piano, recounting stories of her music lessons that had both of them laughing loudly. William rarely did so and Elizabeth loved to witness it; it encouraged her to continue to do whatever was necessary to see him keep on doing so. In their mirth, they did not hear the doorbell ring and so were startled when the door to the room opened and William's uncle Philip appeared. The two of them were standing by the piano, obviously engaged in some form of lover's play and quickly stepped apart.

"Uncle Philip!" William exclaimed, a hint of embarrassment flushing his cheeks.

Elizabeth bowed her head and looked away momentarily, trying to regain her composure. Philip Fitzwilliam looked between them.

"I apologise," he said. "I assumed you heard the door and were expecting an interruption."

When William failed to reply immediately, Elizabeth did. "No, no I'm afraid we didn't…I was playing rather loudly." She started to tidy up her music; really it was nervous-work. She had not prepared herself for an encounter with a Fitzwilliam this morning and was displeased to have her peaceful time with William thus disrupted.

William as well was not very happy. He felt wary, not sure what to make of his uncle's surprise visit.

"I should perhaps have rung ahead of time," the older man said. "I hoped to…" He looked intently at his nephew who stood, matching his uncle's inscrutable expression, looking back at him.

"Right," Elizabeth said, quelling her annoyance. "Well, I'll leave you to talk."

"Elizabeth," William said trying to forestall her exit.

She smiled at him demonstrating she accepted with resignation Philip's desire to speak with him alone. "I promised Mrs Northmore some time," she said.

"Thank you," Philip said solemnly to her.

Elizabeth was startled by the slight upturn at the corners of his mouth. She nodded at him, shot one more reassuring look at William and left, closing the door behind her.

"Uncle," William started.

"I am sorry, William, but I did wish to speak with you privately," Philip said, interrupting his nephew. He stepped further into the room, moving toward the piano.

William retreated from his position, trying to keep some space between them. "Is this about Elizabeth?" he asked with a hard, defensive edge in his voice.

"Yes," Philip said simply.

"Uncle," William began again, a warning in his voice this time. He had been dreading this moment. With the passage of time, he had hoped it would not come at all, but now here his uncle was, upsetting his wonderful time with Elizabeth and for what?

"You love her," Philip stated, shocking William who found the words he had been set to say, the argument bubbling up in him, dissipate.

"Yes," he replied firmly.

"And it is quite clear to me that she returns your sentiments."

William did not reply; he watched his uncle carefully, waiting cautiously for his uncle's next words. They stood, looking at each other in silence for a moment before Philip sighed and broke the stare.

"No, there is no reason you should make this easy for me. I know the family has not welcomed Elizabeth as you would like, but you know the reasons for that."

William emitted a grunt of disgust.

"Are you going to marry her?"

With a look and tone that verged on fierce, he replied, "Yes."

Philip nodded. "Well, for what it is worth, you have my support."

William looked at his uncle without managing to hide his surprise.

"I have had the opportunity to learn more about Elizabeth, and it is clear that you have chosen well," Philip said not comfortable with having to say so much, but understanding his nephew's need to hear these sentiments.

William raised his eyebrows, still not sure what to say.

"I am not," his uncle continued, "as prone as others to jump to rapid conclusions, as you know." A glint of amusement was apparent in his eyes and he hoped his words would lighten the mood between them.

William couldn't help reacting to it and he smiled slightly. There had been many, many conversations since he was a boy about this character trait. He could remember lively debates between his father, uncle and Alexander Halsley about Philip being too slow to decide, Halsley too quick to judge and his father always having to play the mediator.

"She makes you happy," Philip said, partly as a statement, partly in question.

William nodded, not entirely capable of suppressing a smile.

"Then I'm happy for you," Philip concluded.

After a short pause, William chose to accept his uncle's words at face value. "Thank you."

He had not expected this when Philip appeared in the doorway. Although he felt a great deal of relief, he still felt on edge, as though something more negative was about to occur.

"I have very little influence on the opinions of your aunts, however. Or your cousins; they are adults. Although I think we both know I had little enough influence on them as children. I spent too much time working and not enough with them." He sounded regretful. "But I will be honest about my support for this relationship, for whatever it is worth."

Before William could comment, the men heard a light tap on the door. They turned to the sound and saw the door slowly open followed by the sight of Elizabeth carrying a tray. Looking over her shoulder she said, "Thank you, Mr Mallon."

She looked into the room with a little trepidation. She didn't want to intrude, but could not be comfortable abandoning William to his uncle for too long. She looked at William, trying to communicate her intentions and to judge his response; he seemed fine, to her relief and even smiled slightly.

Walking into the room, she said, "I thought you might like some coffee. Mrs Northmore said it is what you prefer," she added looking at Philip.

William took the tray from her and placed it on a table.

"Thank you, Elizabeth," Philip said at the same time she continued to speak.

"I won't intrude."

She turned to leave, but Philip's words halted her steps.

"Please join us. I've said what I wanted to my nephew."

Elizabeth looked at William questioningly.

"I just finished reminding my nephew of some rather lively conversations from his boyhood. I'm sure he would be happy to explain later," Philip continued.

Elizabeth did not speak, but carefully examined both men.

Sensing the need to offer some explanation, Philip stated, "You strike me as a woman who appreciates forthrightness."

Elizabeth responded only by looking at him, her expression neutral. Philip knew he should not be surprised by her reticent manner given the less-than-warm reception she had been granted by his family.

"I have come to accept that what Alexander Halsley has been telling me for weeks is correct. You are clearly an intelligent, caring woman and, most importantly, you make my nephew happy and for that I am thankful. I look forward to getting to know you better. If, of course, you are willing to grant me the opportunity."

In the face of such an honest mea culpa, Elizabeth could do nothing other than accept his words graciously, suppressing a childish urge to make him account for his previous behaviour. This is what she had hoped for – that with some time, William's family would come to know her and at least accept their relationship, if they could not be happy about it.

"Thank you," she said and moved to sit near the table upon which William had set the coffee tray. The two men followed suit and also sat down. Elizabeth served them all a cup of coffee, politely joining them, but taking only a small portion. Her taste for coffee was limited. She passed around a plate of sliced cake Mrs Northmore had included on the tray.

The three chatted for a while as they drank their coffee. Philip asked Elizabeth if she was aware of the open invitation she apparently had to become part of the public service. He smiled slightly, feeling somewhat charmed by his nephew's girlfriend, when she laughed lightly and said yes, she had heard about it. He appreciated that she accepted it openly, but obviously did not boast about it. They talked a bit more about her work after she told him that she really didn't see herself taking such a position. William told his uncle about Angus Blackstone's efforts to employ Elizabeth full-time as well. For good measure, William further praised Elizabeth's accomplishments - her education, work, musical talents and even her cooking. Elizabeth tried to get him to stop to no avail. They all knew what he was doing – trying to make his uncle understand just how special she was – but she found it embarrassing. Philip found it greatly amusing though if for no other reason than that it showed him a side of William he had never seen before – William in love.

"He likes to brag about me," Elizabeth teased, rolling her eyes affectedly and trying not to show that the praise made her uncomfortable.

"Someone has to," William muttered to which Elizabeth replied with a teasing scowl.

Philip next raised the question of Elizabeth's sister, confirming that it was she who was involved with Charles and that Jane was her older sister. She also had to explain about having three younger sisters.

"I spoke to Charles at Edgar's funeral," Philip said. "He seemed...very enthusiastic about something related to her birthday. I can only imagine what."

He looked at William and Elizabeth who looked at each other. Charles' enthusiasm was no doubt related to his plan to propose.

The silence was telling and Philip smiled. "We'll have to have a dinner with Charles and your sister soon. It is rather past time we met her, I imagine."

A look of dread flashed over Elizabeth's face. It was fast, but both Philip and William saw it. William's face became stern and Philip sighed.

"Not the most pleasant prospect, I gather. It will get better."

"I trust it will," William said, his voice hard.

"I'm sure you are correct," Elizabeth said at the same time.

Soon after this exchange, Philip declined more coffee, saying he had to go. The conversation had started out a little stilted, but by this point, they had all relaxed quite a bit. Philip thanked Elizabeth and told his nephew to tell her what they had talked about.

Left alone, Elizabeth looked at William and said, "Well."

"Indeed," he replied.

"Unexpected, but welcomed," Elizabeth summarized.

William nodded and pulled her to sit next to him. He kissed her a few times before doing as his uncle had suggested and telling her about their conversation.

Elizabeth shrugged when he was done. "So we cannot expect the rest of your family to fall in line just because he has decided I am not so very bad."

William looked chagrined and Elizabeth suspected he was angry about his family's continued dismissal if her.

"It is what I hoped for," she said more positively and rubbing his arm soothingly.

William looked at her questioningly.

"That as people got accustomed to the idea of our relationship, they would be more accepting. Your uncle is a start. He's obviously decided I am not simply some fortune hunter who managed to trick you using her arts and allurements!" she laughed at the thought and William smiled at her teasing tone.

"What are arts and allurements anyway?" she asked continuing to laugh.

"I don't think I care to answer that," he replied quickly pushing away memories of the antics of women like Caroline Bingley.

"Sex, I suppose, in the modern era." She laughed more heartily as William blushed slightly. "Wouldn't your cousins be surprised to know how long I made you wait!"

At this William growled and exacted his revenge for her teasing in a most pleasurable – yet suitable for a public room – fashion.

They continued on with their relaxing, quiet day accomplishing little of substance, but both were quite satisfied. William did not drop Elizabeth off at her flat until 9 pm that evening, later than usual, and he counted that as a positive sign that she was no longer enjoying her separate time and living arrangements.

Alone in her flat, Elizabeth's reflections were quite pleasant. The family party had gone more smoothly than any previous encounter with the Fitzwilliams. Philip's unexpected visit was a very hopeful sign that things in that regard would continue to improve. She was back in her flat and William had not so much as grumbled about it. He seemed in better spirits generally, after the dreadful time with his Uncle Edgar. Work was more manageable. Everything was getting back to normal.

In addition, it was almost the end of May and soon the summer season would be upon them. There was a lot to look forward to. Georgiana's visit and lots of time at Pemberley, including with the Gardiners. She and William were talking about a trip to explore the countryside in France late in the summer. Then in the autumn she could raise the idea of taking the next step in their relationship; she thought about it for some time, sipping a cup of tea before bed and felt that by then it would be a good time. By then she was sure she would be comfortable believing in their future.

The realities of Monday morning did not diminish Elizabeth's mood, but rather gave her the impetus to confront two unpleasant tasks. First, she had to talk to William though, and that certainly was not an unpleasant task!

She called him and they spoke only long enough to outline their plan for the weekend. They were expected in Meryton to celebrate Jane and Rupert's birthdays. Jane's actual birthday was on Friday, her father's on Saturday. Elizabeth suggested they do as they had done for their last visit and drive up on Saturday, leaving earlier to spend more time with Rupert. Elizabeth would stay with William at Charles' house Saturday evening and the two of them would return to London Sunday morning, leaving when Charles and Jane left to join the Bennets at church.

Next, Elizabeth sent an email message to Jane. She outlined the plan, noting that she assumed Charles and Jane would want to have a private celebration on Friday. It was not the real reason she and William would only travel to Hertfordshire on Saturday, but it did provide a reasonable explanation and with luck would avoid any suggestion of alternative travel plans.

Elizabeth also explained, concisely, the argument she had had with Charlotte the week before. She kept it matter-of-fact, hoping to avoid any significant conversation about it. It still stung, quite a lot, and after some of her recent disagreements with Jane, she was wary of her sister's reaction.

Jane sent a reply saying she would call that night. She included several sad face emoticons in response to the news about Charlotte.

On the phone that evening, Jane spoke enthusiastically and at length about her birthday. She knew Charles was planning something big and although she didn't say it outright, it was obvious to everyone that Charles was planning a romantic marriage proposal. Elizabeth hoped it was all Jane anticipated.

Fortunately, Jane's enthusiasm left her with little attention to focus on her sister's actions. She made a relatively feeble attempt to convince Elizabeth that she and William should travel to Hertfordshire on Friday and stay at Longbourn so that she was there for all of their father's birthday, noting how happy it would make him. Elizabeth brushed it aside easily, re-directing the conversation to Charles once again.

She could not avoid discussion about Charlotte however. Jane required – and would not be distracted from – a verbal account of the aborted dinner.

"She must be feeling just dreadful," Jane said when Elizabeth was finished. Her voice sounded very sympathetic.

"About what?" Elizabeth asked. She genuinely was not sure if Jane meant to say Charlotte felt dreadful about her life, thus had started an argument, or that Charlotte must now feel upset because of the fight.

"Well," Jane said slowly and gently, "I suppose about her life. She must have felt very concerned about your reaction to her relationship with Bill Collins and well…things can easily get rather mixed up, words misunderstood and so forth."

Unseen by Jane, Elizabeth clenched her jaw and rolled her eyes. "I don't think I was given a chance to react," she said in justification, but Jane spoke so quickly, Elizabeth wasn't sure she heard the comment.

"You were rather…hard about him, Lizzie."

"So was Charlotte!" she said defensively.

"But, but if he makes her happy…"

"If a man like that – insensible and stupid as he is – can make Charlotte Lucas happy then she is no longer the person I thought she was!"

"Don't say that, Lizzie," Jane said pleadingly.

Elizabeth took a couple of deep breaths before replying. "I'm sorry, Jane. But you weren't there. It was like at the start of our last dinner; do you remember?"

Jane did remember the last time the three of them had gotten together. Charlotte had started out somewhat hostile to Elizabeth, baiting her about William. Jane had had a few words with her, reminding her that Elizabeth had faced a lack of enthusiastic support from their parents regarding her relationship with William and was likely to be defensive; she asked their friend to go easier on her and she had. Later they had all brushed it off as a result of Charlotte's frustration with her life and a job opportunity that fell through at the last moment.

"Yes," Jane said softly.

"It was like that, only worse. I don't know if she intended us to argue. If so, she could have saved me and Mr Mallon the bother of traveling all that way. But it was obvious very early on that she wasn't happy with me."

"Maybe," Jane started tentatively. "Maybe it was like last time. Maybe she isn't very happy with her new job and everything. It isn't quite what she had hoped for, and well, by comparison, Lizzie…" Her voice trailed off.

"By comparison what, Jane?" Elizabeth asked, a little hesitantly, but also knowing there would be no avoiding her sister's thoughts on the issue.

"Well, by comparison your life is rather charmed. You've never had to face the same struggles she has."

"Everyone has struggles, Jane," she replied tightly and quietly. Her mind flashed to the many times she had envied Charlotte her family – imperfect, but loving and supportive.

"Yes, but…"

"But what?" Elizabeth asked not entirely sure she wanted to hear the answer.

"Everything always comes so easily for you."

Elizabeth didn't agree, but could not bear the thought of continuing the conversation.

"It's pointless to try to understand what Charlotte was thinking; only she knows." And I don't care to think about it anymore! she added to herself.

"I'm sure she feels terrible about it. I'm sure she will apologise and explain and then everything will go back to normal." Jane's gentle voice sounded confident.

Elizabeth was a lot less sure of this and did not reply.

"You will accept when Charlotte apologises, won't you, Lizzie?"

Rolling her eyes, Elizabeth replied noncommittally. "If Charlotte wishes to speak to me, she knows how to contact me."

Jane sighed and was about to say something, but Elizabeth didn't give her a chance.

"Don't get involved in it, Jane. If Charlotte has a problem with me, it should stay as that – a problem with me. The two of us will sort it out, one way or another."

Elizabeth turned the conversation again, asking Jane if there was any news about a house. She knew Charles and Jane were looking for one on the outskirts of London, a location that would work for both of their jobs. Jane spoke for a little while about a few of the houses they had viewed, but said they had not yet made any decisions. As Jane talked, Elizabeth realised this was not an experience she would ever have if things with William went as expected. There would be no house hunting. Both the townhouse and Pemberley had been in his family for generations. She would be expected to make them her home as well.

The thought caused a little pang, but it was a small price to pay. Both were magnificent, of course, but more importantly, William came along with them. If he was willing to share his family's history with her – make her a part of it – she could easily adjust to the situation.

The sisters soon ended their conversation. Elizabeth was pleased; despite a rough moment or two, it had gone much more smoothly than their last few encounters. She only hoped the peace would last past the weekend.

Tuesday brought with it both a surprise and a dreaded business dinner. It was especially dreaded by William, who had asked Elizabeth to attend with him. It was expected spouses and significant others would be there, and now that he had one, he wanted her there for support. Knowing he would be able to take her home afterwards would make the small talk easier to bear, he hoped.

The unexpected event happened to Elizabeth, although William was also surprised later when she told him about it. Sitting at her desk that afternoon, working on a report, she started when her phone rang, the sound breaking her concentration.

"Elizabeth Bennet," she announced, answering it.

"Um, hi Lizzie – Liz. It's, uh, me, Kitty."

"Kitty!" she replied. "Hello. Is everything all right?" Her younger sister had never called her at work before.

"Uh, yes. Yes," she said, her voice sounding quite unsure. Before Elizabeth could say anything, Kitty went on. It sounded like she had rehearsed her speech and she had. "I know you're probably really busy and I probably should have called you in the evening, but…" she faltered. She had meant to call Elizabeth the night before, but her courage had failed. She had found it again that afternoon and didn't want to wait, afraid she would lose it again.

"It's fine, Kitty; you're not interrupting anything important."

"I wondered…I thought…"

"Yes?" Elizabeth said gently and, she hoped, kindly. She wished her sister would get to the point.

"I'm going to be in London on Thursday and, well, I hoped maybe we could talk. I need some advice."

Elizabeth was momentarily stunned. Her mind quickly sorted through a list of possible reasons Kitty might want her assistance.

"Or, or I could probably make it another day if you can't Thursday. I mean, I'm going to be there then, but I could also go another day," Kitty said quickly. Her voice sounded tremulous.

"No, Thur…" Elizabeth started to say, only to be interrupted by her sister.

"I know you're really, really busy and you have lots of things to do and a boyfriend, too…"

"No, no, Kitty," Elizabeth said, halting her sister's words. "It's all right. Of course I have time. And Thursday should be fine. What time will you be here?"

They made a plan to meet at a restaurant near the train station at 3 pm. It would save Kitty the trouble of finding her way around the city and make it easy for her to catch a train back to Meryton afterwards.

"What do you think she wants?" William asked. Elizabeth had just finished telling him about Kitty's telephone call. They were on their way to dinner, sitting in the car while Mr Mallon drove.

"I don't know," she replied shrugging her shoulders. She sighed and then added, "I hope it's not that she is in some sort of trouble."

"But you think that might be it?"

Elizabeth shrugged again. Her forehead was furrowed as she once again ran through a list of possibilities.

"And if she is in some sort of trouble," William asked, "what will you do?"

"Help, of course."

They sat in silence as both reflected on the situation. Elizabeth could not come up with a good explanation for Kitty's request other than being in some sort of trouble she didn't want their parents to know about. She had never been particularly close to her younger sisters. Mary had, for years, rebuffed any attempts she made to befriend her and Kitty and Lydia had been content to go on in their silly ways, with little patience for their much older sister's attempts to engage them in serious matters. It was only, really, when they performed their karaoke routines that they all relaxed around each other and had a way to interact that was not stressful. And yet, Kitty was her sister and if she needed help Elizabeth would do what she could. Within reason, that is. She was a little surprised that, if Kitty needed help in some manner, she hadn't asked Jane. Jane had been far more present in the lives of the younger sisters – at home for longer, no extended time spent overseas and even now she was a regular visitor to Longbourn while Elizabeth avoided it as much as possible.

William's reflections were not so very different. His initial reaction was to wonder why Elizabeth would consider helping anyone in her family, other than the Gardiners. The Bennets – all of them – treated her dreadfully and certainly did not appreciate the truly remarkable woman she was. He did not exclude Jane from this. However, he soon told himself, they were her family; Kitty was her sister. He knew all too well the ties of family. There were people in his family he did not care to spend time with unless it was absolutely necessary; his Aunt Catherine being an obvious example, along with his cousin Anne. But they were still family. One did not simply walk away from or disavow such relationships. Friendships might come and go, but family should be forever, unless the situation was very bad. He thought Elizabeth's relationship with her mother might qualify as 'very bad', but it would be hard if not impossible to have nothing to do with Fanny Bennet while maintaining relations with her father and sisters. And, for better or worse, she gave no indication she was ready to walk away from them. The best thing to do under these circumstances, he thought, was to limit the time spent with the Bennets. Between that and his presence, maybe it wouldn't be too terrible.

The dinner was at the home of a business associate of William's. The two had joined forces a few times and William knew the man hoped to extend the relationship; he had yet to decide if he wanted to do so.

There was little remarkable about the evening. The attendees were nice enough, but most of the conversation at dinner was dominated by business. William and Elizabeth were separated at the table and she could see his repeated glances at her that seemed both to ensure she was okay and to beg for rescue from his companions. Elizabeth sat between two men and, when not part of the general conversation, undertook some obligatory small talk. It was not very stimulating, but Elizabeth amused herself well enough by studying the characters and trying to communicate loving thoughts to William.

The period after dinner was better, for Elizabeth at least. William was pulled away to join a debate about the implications of some recent government announcements, while Elizabeth found herself in a group of spouses and partners. Among them she found a woman, some ten years older then she, who was an architect. They had a lively discussion about new innovations in building design and ways of making it more environmentally friendly.

During the car ride home, William sighed deeply, very glad the evening was over. He dreaded events like this and it had lived up to his expectations. He just was no good at the social side of business. He remembered dreaming, long before he asked Elizabeth to go out with him, how much better such evenings would be if he could have her with him and know that he could go home with her afterwards. He found his dreams becoming a reality. The evening had been made vastly better by her presence and now, sitting in the car, his eyes closed and head resting back on the seat and her hand clasped firmly in his, the stress of the dinner party slipped away, replaced by an all together different feeling.

They got back to William's house, thanking Mr Mallon, greeting Mrs Northmore and declining the offer of tea and a snack. William fairly pulled Elizabeth up the stairs, eager to be alone with her at last. She followed, her mind once again wandering to the phone conversation with her sister that afternoon. Thus distracted, she prepared for bed. She joined William on the sofa in the adjacent study. She knew he had been doing a final check of the news for the day and asked about it. He told her about one or two interesting bits and then listened as she told him a little about her after-dinner conversation with the architect. Architecture made his mind turn to interior design, which then morphed into his plans for the room they were sitting in. He didn't vocalise these thoughts, but they gave him a happy feeling and when she was finished, he reached for her and gave her a long, lingering, kiss. He moved his lips to her cheek, cupping one side of her face in his large hand, placing soft, slow kisses on her jaw and then her neck; his intentions were obvious.

He felt her struggle to suppress a yawn. It was not the reaction he had expected, and he pulled back to look at her. His expression was quizzical; hers amused and sheepish.

"I'm a little tired," she said.

After a brief silence, William inwardly shrugged and leaned back into her, capturing her mouth for a moment before once again kissing her neck, this time burying one hand in her hair, gently tilting her head to gain better access.

"I'll do all the hard work," he whispered, moving his mouth to her collar bone.

This time he felt her suppressing a giggle and once again pulled back to look at her, his expression this time a mixture of curiosity and frustration. Elizabeth's eyes were dancing with amusement and it was clear she was trying very hard not to laugh; her lips were pulled into her mouth and held together by her teeth.

"Go on," he said resigned.

She laughed a little. "You'll do all the hard work? Should I just lie back quietly, close my eyes and think of the empire?" She couldn't help laughing again.

William's expression displayed none of her mirth and she tried to stop herself and look apologetic. His face was stony and she really did feel bad, but the thought had popped into her head, loudly and demandingly.

"That certainly kills one's ardour very quickly," he said deadpanned.

"I'm sorry," Elizabeth said, her face taking on a contrite expression although she still struggled not to laugh. She caressed his face with both of her hands and gave him several light kisses. He remained silent and still, his hands by his side and when she looked at him, his eyes made it clear that he did not see any humour in the situation.

She apologised again, suppressed a giggle and explained that the thought had come to her unbidden and that she could not help laughing at it.

"The thought that I would ever, or that you would ever expect me to, well, the image of it was rather…amusing." Her voice faltered a little as he remained stony and did not seem to melt even a little despite her smile and the gentle caresses she was giving his shoulders and back.

"Although," she continued, "it isn't that funny when you really think about it. For a very long time, women were taught to dread sex, even if it was with someone they loved and trusted, and taught that to enjoy it meant they were not quote 'good girls'."

This elicited a response. "Thankfully we do not live in such a society."

"Thankfully, indeed," Elizabeth said, drawing a little closer to William. She wrapped her arms around his neck and placed her face just a few inches away from him.

"Humph," he said.

Elizabeth smiled teasingly at him. "Shall I try to reignite your ardour?"

Looking a little grouchy he replied, "I don't think it will be that easy."

She kissed him softly. "What if I promise to share the burden?" She ran her hands lightly down his back and along as much of his torso as she could reach.

It did not take very long for William to find his passion again.

Wednesday passed quickly enough, with both Elizabeth and William busy with work. William had his weekly dinner with Charles that night. Charles was even more ebullient than usual, anxiously awaiting Friday and Jane's birthday. He spoke at lengths about his happiness after asking William a few perfunctory questions about Elizabeth and Georgiana. It got to the point that William fantasized about grabbing his shoulders, shaking him violently and yelling that no one was as perfect as he was making Jane out to be. William would not admit it for the world, but he thought Jane was far from an angel and at times, as much as he had come to accept Jane and Charles' relationship, had doubts about it. They had been together for a while now – nine months – and yet at times like this, when Charles droned on about how wonderful she and their relationship were, he had a hard time keeping his countenance.

Charles was very happy that William and Elizabeth would be staying at the Netherfield house Saturday night, and he looked forward to the four of them celebrating together. He made a few offhanded remarks about it being William's time soon. Thinking about that made it easier for William to bear Charles' seemingly endless chatter.

Elizabeth had a quiet dinner at home, catching up on some reading and playing her flute. She was in the middle of a piece when her phone rang. Moving to answer it, she wondered who it might be, suspecting it was too early to be William; he would still be with Charles.

It was her father. They had barely spoken recently, communicating instead via email and even that had been limited. Elizabeth expected the 'down time' in their interactions would get them past the upset caused by the revelation of her relationship with William and the argument with her mother.

"Hello, Dad," she said, sitting down and placing her flute carefully on the table. "How are you?"

"Fine. You?" Rupert said his tone clipped.

"The same."

"On your own tonight or is he there?"

"Assuming you mean William, he is having dinner with Charles tonight."

"I see," Rupert said sounding relieved.

"Everything all right at Longbourn?" Elizabeth asked, wondering if she would get any clues about her sister Kitty's need for advice.

"Oh yes, as far as I can tell. Your mother has been buzzing about preparing for the weekend. She's convinced herself we will have more than birthdays to celebrate."

"Has she?" Elizabeth said as it was obvious she was supposed to react in some way.

"Not going to give anything away, Lizzie? Give your old dad the inside scoop?" he teased.

"Anything I said would be based on pure speculation, Dad. I don't know anything," she answered wearily.

"Well," he said in the dismissive tone he often believed sounded witty, "given the course of your sister's relationship with Charles, I believe we can all trust our speculation."

"It's only a couple of more days, in any case," Elizabeth said offhandedly. She wasn't sure why her father had called and couldn't be comfortable talking to him without knowing.

"Planning to upstage your sister with any announcements of your own, Lizzie?" This time there was a slight hard edge to Rupert's voice.

"No," she replied shortly.

"Given how secretive you've become, it is hard to tell," he teased.

"Dad," she said with a warning in her voice. She didn't know if he was being disingenuous or not; she had never been very forthcoming about her private life and his linking it to William in any manner angered her.

"What are your plans for the weekend, Elizabeth Annabelle?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at his use of her full name, something he only did when trying to be stern, and outlined the travel arrangements she and William had made.

Rupert gave off a noise that made it clear that he was not pleased. Fortunately, he otherwise held his tongue.

"We will be there all day Saturday," she reiterated.

"I see."

Silence fell between them for a moment; both not sure what to say that would not result in an argument. Rupert was not a stupid man; he knew if he pushed her, she was more than capable of refusing to visit at all. He also knew – as much as he didn't really like it – that William Darcy now had precedence in her life. She had made that clear when she left Longbourn early during her last visit and by her firm statement that she was staying at Charles' house to be with William.

"Aunt Maddy and Uncle Edmund will be there, too," Elizabeth finally said, trying to break the impasse and find a way to end the conversation.

"Yes. For dinner," he said sounding a little hard-done-by.

"They are looking forward to a weekend without the children, I believe."

"Wouldn't want to spoil that by spending too much time at Longbourn," Rupert replied, trying to sound light-hearted, but only managing to sound a little offended. Elizabeth could not have much sympathy; he did little enough to make Edmund and Madeline feel their company was important to him. Certainly he never visited them in return.

Not wanting to end the conversation with his daughter just yet, he asked about her work before she could find a way to say goodbye. They spoke for another quarter hour, Rupert relishing Elizabeth's attention, yet also left saddened by her words. It was painfully obvious to him that her life – in spirit and physically – was in London, far, far from him.

William and Elizabeth spoke Wednesday evening after her conversation with Rupert. He convinced her to agree to dinner and spending the night together the next day. He did so skilfully, subtly raising her promises that once her trip to Switzerland had passed, her schedule would lighten up and they would have more time together. Not wishing to cause any strife, Elizabeth acquiesced quickly, although with a bit of hesitation. She didn't hesitate because she didn't want to see him – she did – but she did sometimes feel like her life was being quickly overwhelmed by his. He suggested they stay at her place, which soothed her somewhat, helping her to feel less like her life was being pulled into his. It seemed more like the merger of two lives she had always envisioned would be her future when she found the right man.

William suggested the arrangement simply because he enjoyed the sensation of being completely alone with Elizabeth. It wouldn't always be possible, once she gave up her flat and moved in with him, but they would have some times at least, when they took holidays or when Mrs Northmore and Mr Mallon were off or example.

Thursday afternoon found Elizabeth hurrying toward the restaurant at which she was to meet Kitty. A meeting with her boss, Alice, had run long. Elizabeth had sent a text message to Kitty to let her know she would be a little late, but she didn't want to keep her waiting longer than necessary and so she rushed. She was only five minutes past their original meeting time, but five or fifteen – it was all 'late' to Elizabeth and she didn't like it.

Standing at the entrance, she looked about until she saw Kitty sitting in a booth, a cup of tea or coffee in front of her, nervously playing with a spoon.

"Kitty," Elizabeth said, sliding onto the seat opposite her sister. "I'm sorry I'm late. Unexpected meeting," she explained again.

"Hi Lizzie, Liz," Kitty corrected herself, looking nervously at her older sister. "You're hardly late." Goodness knows, Lydia thought anything under half an hour after a meeting time didn't qualify as 'late', she thought.

"Still, I didn't like to keep you waiting," Elizabeth replied, asking a looming server for tea. Elizabeth asked if Kitty had ordered anything to eat and receiving a negative reply, suggested they do so as she had only had a small and hasty lunch at her desk.

"I'm having dinner with William, but I'll not last until then," she added.

They spent a few minutes looking at the menu before Kitty selected a sandwich and Elizabeth a salad.

Before Elizabeth could ask her anything, Kitty asked Elizabeth about work and then enquired about William and the Gardiners. She was stalling, knowing Elizabeth would want to ask about her request for a meeting, but once again was feeling hesitant.

After Elizabeth finished a short anecdote about their cousins Susan and David, the Gardiner children, she said kindly, but firmly, "Okay, Kitty; it's time to tell me what you want my help with."

Kitty looked nervously at her food and began to pick the tomatoes out.

"Kitty," Elizabeth said gently, "if you are in some sort of jam, I will help you as best as I can. You are my sister."

Kitty looked up at Elizabeth and stammered, "Oh n...n…no. No, I'm not in trouble, it's…it's…"

Elizabeth sighed affectedly, "Well that's a relief. I've been worried about you since you called."

The predominant explanation that had occurred to Elizabeth was that her much younger sister found herself faced with an unexpected and unwelcomed pregnancy. Elizabeth reached across the table and put a hand on Kitty's, stilling its nervous movements. "So, tell me."

Elizabeth's gentle, but insistent tone broke through Kitty's restraint and the words tumbled out of her. Elizabeth sat back and listened, taking it all in without interruption, allowing her thoughts and ideas to formulate.

"I'm going to be twenty this year," Kitty started, "and well, it's rather time I started to think about what I'm going to do, don't you think? I mean for a job and all of that. I don't want to work in a shop forever. And I have. I'm not a kid anymore, not really, and I know I'm not really smart like you are, I mean by the time you were my age, you were almost finished uni and thinking about doing more school and all of that. I wouldn't be any good at that kind of thing, but I do want to do something and I think I know what it is. I mean I do know what it is."

She was trying very hard to sound mature and sure of herself so that Elizabeth would take her seriously and maybe even help her. She looked at her sister, who nodded encouragingly. She took a deep breath to help settle her nerves and then went on.

"The thing is, I know no one really takes me seriously. You and Jane are so much older and settled and Mary is so serious and than by comparison I'm such a scatter brain." She paused. "And spending so much time with Lydia doesn't help. But, well, I've been thinking a lot and…and…"

"And you're not entirely satisfied with your life and want to take greater charge of it?" Elizabeth offered, keeping her expression and tone neutral.

"Yes," Kitty said evidently greatly relieved that Elizabeth somehow understood. She had hoped she would.

Inwardly, Elizabeth was very glad to hear this, if surprised. At almost twenty, it was good to see some signs of maturity in Kitty.

"Tell me what you've been thinking," Elizabeth encouraged.

"Well," Kitty replied, biting her lip. "I'm good with numbers. I don't know if you know that, but I, well, I am. And I like maths; a lot. I'm not really very good at most things; I do okay, but maths well, I get it."

She looked at Elizabeth who smiled and nodded at her to go on.

"There's…there's a programme at -- College, in Norfolk" she said. "It's on agricultural economics and record keeping and things like that." She stopped and looked at Elizabeth.

"And you'd like to do it?"

"Yes," Kitty said again relieved when Elizabeth seemed to understand and very, very glad that her sister was not laughing at her or even looking like she thought it was a ridiculous idea.

"And if you did, what then?" Elizabeth asked, her tone inquisitive, but not at all judgemental. "What would you like to do afterwards, do you think?"

Very tentatively, Kitty muttered something, Elizabeth catching only part of it. What she did hear though made her very pleased: Longbourn.

"You would want to work for the farm?" Elizabeth asked, seeking confirmation.

Kitty nodded timidly. "Do you think that's stupid?"

"I think that's wonderful, Kitty. It's a family venture – our family heritage – and I'd love to see someone from the family take it over from Dad, when the time comes."

"Dad wants you to do it."

"Dad knows I'm not going to, whether he is willing to accept it or not," Elizabeth said firmly.

"Mary thinks you will," Kitty said quietly, still looking at Elizabeth as though to judge her reaction. "Mary thinks that when it becomes necessary, because Dad just can't do it by himself any longer, you'll take over. Maybe not live there, but you'll run it."

"Mary's wrong," Elizabeth stated almost angrily. She sighed and looked around the restaurant for a moment, gathering her thoughts. She settled on an approach she hoped would work. "Kitty, why do you want to work for Longbourn?" She regarded her sister carefully, trying to communicate that her intention was not to judge or criticise, but to explain.

"Well…I suppose," Kitty paused. "I love it. I would never be happy in a place like London. Every time I come here, it's like I'm suffocating. It's fun for a day or so, but then I feel lost. But at home, well, it's…it's ours. It's our family's and I really love that feeling, that I belong, that we Bennets, we've done this thing and I want to be a part of it. And, and I know I'd be happy there. Working at the farm, being part of Meryton like I've always been and…and all of that."

Elizabeth smiled. "I know the exact opposite. I would not be happy there, I would not be…satisfied running the farm and it isn't my home, or my life; that is here. It might not always be London, but it will never be Meryton."

"Because of Mum," Kitty said very quietly, almost too low for Elizabeth to hear.

"Partly," she replied honestly. "Mostly even, perhaps, but Kitty that is not your concern."

Kitty looked abashed, certain she had crossed a barrier that was not meant to be approached. She was correct in some ways, but not to the extent that she feared.

"I mean that I don't want you to worry about my…relationship with our mother and I really, really don't want you to feel you have to take a position – for me or for her. Our disagreements are between us."

"I think Mum only really likes Jane and Lydia," Kitty said.

Elizabeth felt like crying hearing the pain in Kitty's voice. "But you get along okay with her, don't you?"

Kitty shrugged. "I suppose. She more or less ignores me unless I'm with Lydia. It could be worse."

Redirecting the conversation, Elizabeth said, "About the farm. I've been telling Dad since I was younger than you are now that I will not ever take it on. I've told him he should talk to Mary about it, but…" She shrugged.

"What do I do?" Kitty asked forlornly.

Elizabeth sighed and regarded her younger sister for a moment, considering. Kitty was a little discomposed by Elizabeth's intensity. Finally, she spoke. "How serious are you about this?"

Kitty had expected something like this. She swallowed and explained. "I've looked into it really carefully. I've visited and talked to some of the instructors and even some of the other students. I really want to do this. I've been thinking about it for months and planning and…everything."

"I don't suppose you've talked to Dad about it at all?"

Kitty shook her head. "I tried to talk to him about the farm, but whenever I do, he laughs at me and tells me to go back to whatever silly thing I was doing before."

Elizabeth shook her head, clearly exasperated. "That sounds like him," she muttered.

"I…I'd get in," Kitty said carefully, "but…"

"Money," Elizabeth summarised and Kitty nodded. "There are fees and you'd have to live away from home." The latter point Elizabeth thought was a very positive one; Kitty would possibly benefit greatly from being away from home for a while, and away from Lydia.

"I'd take a job; I'd even take out loans if I can."

"No, that's ridiculous. Loans, I mean. A part-time job wouldn't be so bad, but there isn't any reason for you to go into debt. There's enough set aside. Or should be."

Elizabeth was referring to money their Bennet grandparents had left. It was supposed to be used for the sisters' education, but under the terms of their grandfather's will had been left in the hands of Rupert and Fanny. This had meant, in practice, it was up to Fanny to decide how the money was used. She had made decisions based on what she deemed 'practical'. Elizabeth had, in Fanny's view, used up her portion of the money with her childhood music lessons. Fortunately, she had been able to rely on scholarships, working and help from her aunt and uncle – with some surreptitious donations from Rupert – to make it through her first degree. Things had been easier after that. It was quite likely their mother would decide Kitty's plan wasn't practical (in other words, didn't suit her vision of what Kitty should do) and would refuse to support it. It was extremely unlikely that Rupert would argue against any such decision as that would entail too much bother.

After a pause, Elizabeth said, "Leave it with me for now. I'll…think about it. And talk to Dad at the weekend. We'll find a way."

She asked Kitty a number of other questions about the programme and was pleased with her enthusiasm. Kitty gave her some print information she had brought with her as well, that Elizabeth promised to look over. There was no question that Kitty would be accepted into the programme and she had in actuality submitted the application already.

This main topic out of the way, Elizabeth took some time to get to know Kitty better. It wasn't necessarily easy-going, but she did feel she got a better sense of who Kitty was becoming. One thing she learned was that her sister wanted to leave her girlhood nickname behind, as she had tried to do. Thus Kitty was to become Kate, if not Catherine. Elizabeth didn't think her and Kitty – Kate rather – would ever have a very close relationship, the kind she and Jane had. Or perhaps I need to amend that to once had, she thought, knowing that the two were growing apart. However, for the first time, it seemed like they could be more than two women who happened to be sisters.

Kate tentatively asked Elizabeth more about her life and about William. Elizabeth answered cautiously, still learning to trust this new, emerging person who, in some ways, she was just meeting.

The two talked until the very last moment, Elizabeth waiting with Kate for her train back to Hertfordshire. At the end, Kate threw her arms around Elizabeth for a quick hug, saying, "Thank you, Liz," before rushing off and leaving Elizabeth with a great deal of information to process.

After seeing Kate off, Elizabeth sent William a text message letting him know she was on her way back to her flat. William replied that he would be leaving soon. They had agreed to have dinner at the Indian restaurant near Elizabeth's apartment. They would meet at Elizabeth's first so that William could leave his things for the night. When he arrived, they left immediately, both hungry and desirous of having dinner over and knowing they could then relax for the evening. They were greeted warmly at the restaurant, both of them well known for their patronage.

William listened closely, munching on pappadums, as Elizabeth told him about her meeting with Kate. He asked if she thought her sister was sincere. Elizabeth said she did.

"Away from Lydia, she really can be a different person. It's always been like that."

William didn't say anything, but it was clear from his expression that he wondered why Catherine had spent so much time with the youngest Bennet. Elizabeth guessed his thoughts and tried to explain.

"I think it's been her only way of getting any attention for far too long."

They shared a look that showed they both thought that was dreadful, but also that it was not something they wished to discuss further. Elizabeth because it would go too close to feelings and thoughts she had successfully kept bottled away; William because he was worried if he criticised her parents once, a whole tidal wave of invective would follow.

"What do you want to do?" he asked instead.

Elizabeth made a face. "I'll talk to my father, see how that goes and then we'll see."

"What do you think will happen?"

"He'll laugh at the idea, dismiss my attempt to make him think about grooming Mary, and Kitty, I mean Kate – that is going to take some getting used to – to take over. My mother will decide it is a waste of money to send her off to school. If there even is any of my grandparents' money left; she may well have spent it on other things by this time. Regardless, there is enough money to help Kate with school." She sighed, "And then I'll think of some other way to help her. First though, I have to try my parents, give them a chance to step up and help her."

Even if they are likely to fail, they both added in their thoughts although neither knew the other's feelings.

Nothing William heard was helping him overcome his disdain for the elder Bennets. He imagined it would be a struggle at the weekend to maintain a polite demeanour. He was glad that, on this visit, there would be celebrations to focus on. The Gardiners being present for part of the time would help as well.

"How is Mary getting on?" He assumed Mrs Bennet had been more than happy to help Jane with her education, and he was right.

"Mary I suppose gets by much as I did, but with more support from our parents. They give her some money, I'm not sure how much really. She keeps a part-time job and Jane helps her to fill in the gaps. I've offered, but Mary doesn't want any of my assistance."

"She's jealous of you," William stated, being sure Elizabeth understood that. He didn't want Elizabeth hurt – again – by another person's jealousy. Charlotte Lucas' recent betrayal of their friendship had been hard on Elizabeth, harder than she would admit, he suspected.

She sighed and pushed a few stray chickpeas around her plate. "I wish she wasn't. Kate said Mary expects that, despite my statements to the contrary, I will eventually cede to my father's wishes and take over running Longbourn Farms. I imagine that is the root of her discomfort with me; she'd really like to do it."

That and your father constantly comparing her to you, William thought. The words almost escaped and became audible, but he managed to rein them in. It would not help to raise the issue.

"Well," Elizabeth said, shaking off her reverie, sitting up straight and looking at him, all shadows removed from her face. "I will sort it out somehow. The first step will be this weekend. We'll see how things stand after that," she concluded.

She changed the topic, suggesting they finish up and go back to her flat. She then asked about his dinner the night before with Charles.

The rest of the evening went by quietly. They spent the time relaxing. William developed his own plan for Kate should her parents fail to offer to support her choice. He expected they would fall short. Elizabeth practiced for her music group meeting the next day and then they both did some reading. William watched her for a while, contemplating how sexy she looked with her glasses on and her hair tumbling about her shoulders before convincing her they should retire.