Chapter 6 – A Friend Is One Who Knows You as You Are

Posted on: 2010-04-13

Although a wiser voice warned against more brandy, Darcy's mood overwhelmed it. This was yet another example of his vaulted willpower slipping since she set about disrupting his usually immaculately regulated life. Sipping deeply, he sank into what could only be described as maudlin confusion. The more he played over the scene; the less certain he was of what she truly wanted. She had mocked him – she had seen his interest, the attraction of a man for a woman. At least, he thought that's what she revealed. Or, had she? He had been enjoying the teasing and laughter of her tutorial even as she took him to task. He wished he could go back in time and avoid the rancour. Was it the suspicious quality of her accusation that chased away the pleasurable time, or was it his own unwarranted doubt? Even before she had exposed him with ridicule, her eyes had seemed to betray awareness of his attraction for her and at times hers for him. It had not been difficult to imagine her hopes for his rescue.

And, was it so wrong for her to hope? He regretted his outrage at what he saw as her duplicity. He wondered how much of his emotion was fuelled by fear that she would push him to do something all sense told him he should not.

He remembered her touch. He rarely let people touch him. Bingley's only physical contact had been to clap him on the back in exuberance, and Jamie had only touched him in a professional capacity. Richard had spontaneously embraced him in cousinly sympathy when his father died, but both had been uncomfortable with the gesture. The warmth of her fingers on his flesh had not been the occasion for discomfort but had spawned a desire for more. She had squeezed his hands in thanks, and he found himself now wondering if she had done that in something other than friendship.

He knew why he found it so hard countenance her return to Hertfordshire to reunite with her family, despite his deep conviction that familial duty should be encouraged. The ghastly image of her performing her duty in Mr. Collins's bed taunted him as he stared into the flames. Darcy imagined God was laughing at his quandary. It was not enough to condemn him to imagine from afar her marriage to the obsequious parson – a vision that would fade with time. No, he would be forced to greet the proof of her unhappiness every spring during his annual visit to Rosings. The most painful possibility was seeing his look of denied ardour finding its reflection in her eyes. The closer he drew to her, the more he was able to see the tragedy of her settling for a life less fulfilling than she deserved.

A gust of cold air swept through the room. Darcy shivered, unsure whether the assault to his senses was from his unpleasant thoughts or the piercing wind. Some guest had just arrived who did not seem understand the simple convention of closing the door as one comes in from the cold. Such behaviour would never be allowed at Pemberley from even the lowest ranking stable boy. Darcy felt a sharp twinge of longing to be at home, no longer forced to abide every Tom, Dick or Harry on the road. His fastidious nature bridled at having to rub up against the unmannered, including this one, undoubtedly raised in a barn.

Finally the door was shut, and Darcy was free to return to his musings. They were friends... the best of friends. Damn, he should have just conceded the point instead of flinging her literal interpretation of Milton's line, 'I am a part of all I have met' in her face – a petty attempt on his part to disparage her 'manly' disguise. Even his brandy soaked brain realized he had made a pun, but the laughter coming from his throat sounded choked to his ears. His nemesis – deprived of the warmth and softness of Eli's lap – was now curled up on the stones of the hearth. The tom cat – already riled by the change in temperature wrought by the intrusion of December's weather on his slumber – decided to show his displeasure with Darcy's strangled sound of guilty mirth and proceeded to hiss at him again. He wondered whether Eli would have favoured him with her earthy masculine chortle or her feminine melodic laughter had she been privy to his cleverness.

Damn, she had reverted to calling him Mr. Darcy. There was something very pleasing about her mouth when she said 'Fitz.' Eli was upstairs thinking poorly of him, and he could do nothing but sigh in remorse. Tomorrow he would try to make amends for his accusations. First thing, he would find a way to make her laugh – that was the way to his Eli's heart. Perhaps, he could use his 'manly' Milton bon mot. He spent the next few moments rehearsing the exact wording of his comic apology under the wary eye of Tom Tabby. When he thought he had perfected his words, he began to make other plans to prevent her departure. Friends don't let friends squander their lives tied for life to a ridiculous man.

The booming voice of another best friend startled him out of his fog. "Darcy, I was hoping I might find you here. Companionship for the duration of the ride home would be much enjoyed. You are on horseback and not indulging in the soft life afforded by your barouche box?"

"Richard" and a look of confusion was all he offered his cousin in reply until finally an awareness of his present reality asserted itself and he added, "Yes, I am travelling on Rocinante. Did you just arrive?"

"Yes, and it is colder than a witch's teat out there. The brandy and fire look inviting."

Darcy rallied somewhat to remark disdainfully, "Ah, so you were the Dick kind enough to share the outside with those of us sheltering here; and please spare me your vulgar military expressions."

"Arrogant as usual I see, Cousin dear. You are lucky I love you despite your abominable pride. You would not last five minutes, if you were forced to lead young men not awed by our esteemed family."

Darcy's thoughts returned to the 'young man' who had been the reason for his recent attempt to formulate a proper apology for his 'abominable pride.' Eli was definitely not 'awed' and he realized he had a mission and had already consumed too much brandy tonight. "I will sit with you for a few moments, Richard, but I have two very important express messages and a letter to compose, and send before I retire. Then I must be off to soak in a soothing bath and to replenish my body for the continuation of my journey with undisturbed slumber."

"Is that what you were doing when I entered – 'composing'? I thought you had slipped into some form of madness and had been reduced to share your erudite wit with hostile felines... not having a wife to indulge you."

Darcy sputtered before he finally made an attempt to skewer. His feeble try – even to his ears – sounded more like a childish whine. "You are two years older than I and still unmarried."

"Oh, but the package that is Colonel Fitzwilliam is not so pleasing to fine young ladies." I am a second son and the reputation of my endowment – or lack thereof – precedes me. But you are the great Mr. Darcy and have always had them lining up to fill the position... or perhaps I should say be filled... or perhaps, I mean be fulfilled. I fear I have nothing of your superior intellect for finding the proper turn of phrase.

The smirk on his cousin's face was a clue that Darcy should counter his observations, but nothing remotely clever came to mind. Instead his cousin's ribald words allowed explicit thoughts of Eli to intrude. He forced himself to make safe mindless chatter about the weather and the roads before leaving the man who had been his confidante since childhood. Once again, he remembered the one upstairs who had most recently played that role. He decided to face telling Richard of the additional companion on their ride into Derbyshire in the morning. Tomorrow would be soon enough. A sober Darcy would be more adept at handling that situation.

He wrote and arranged to have two express messages sent with the dawn. The first was to Mrs. Reynolds to expect a visitor – one that had special needs. He cautioned her to tell no one of the unplanned for guest, and promised he would explain the unusual circumstances Saturday afternoon. She should expect Dr. Wilder and Mrs. Wilder the same day; and Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley should be alerted that the physician and his mother would be lunching with them. They should not wait for him to dine; as he doubted he would arrive much before mid-afternoon.

The second express was sent to Jamie. It was a request to spend the afternoon at Pemberley and to bring his mother on Saturday, 14 December. The Wilders had become increasingly close to Darcy and his sister since George Darcy's death. The relationship – based in a shared intimacy with sorrow – provided comfort to both parties. When mother and son had been forced to abandon their estate and flee Ireland in 1798 in the wake of Mr. Wilder's hanging, Mrs. Wilder's two daughters did not leave. They were both married to prominent members of the Protestant Ascendancy who had only hostility for those of their kind who had sided with the republican aspirations of the United Irishman – like Jamie and his father.

Georgiana was a motherless child, and Mrs. Wilder's maternal instincts had reached out to augment her son's care for the withdrawn little girl as she grieved for her father. The trio had deepened their friendship through music. For the last several years guests at Pemberley had often been entertained by their performances. With the encouragement of her musical friends, a painfully shy Miss Darcy had overcome her apprehension for playing for any outside her family and close acquaintances. Georgiana's instrument was the pianoforte. Mrs. Wilder accompanied her on the harp, and Jamie played a flute like instrument he called an Irish Whistle. Darcy suggested the trio meet to plan a performance of a special number for the Earl of Blessing's Twelfth Night ball. Most importantly, the message stressed that Jamie's help was required with a very hush-hush situation. The musical ruse would prevent his sister from fretting about Darcy's need for his physician.

Regardless of what Eli said about a willingness to compromise her happiness – he knew better. To change her mind, he must present her with a fait accompli – an actual opportunity to get out of the country with the utmost speed. Six months in Ireland would change many things. Bingley and Jane would surely be married, and it would not be difficult to persuade Charles to give Elizabeth a home with her beloved sister. This time he would not worry about seeing her and being tempted. He would find the strength to resist somehow.

An elderly woman who was lonely and looking for a little lively diversion would be the perfect position – no unscrupulous employer coercing Eli into a dalliance. He would pay for her situation anonymously. All Jamie needed do was find an appropriate lady who would appreciate a most entertaining companion with nary a dent to her purse. A maiden lady who loved books – that should not be so difficult to arrange.

A great deal could happen while she was out of the country. In that time, Mr. Collins would certainly have grown tired of waiting for his comely cousin to be found. Leaving nothing to chance, he also penned a letter of Christmas greetings to his aunt before retiring. She should relish hearing shocking details of the disappearance of her reverend's betrothed. Lady Catherine's questioning the suitability of waiting for such a lady's return should help to diminish the parson's constancy.

As Darcy climbed the stairs, he hoped his indulgence in strong spirits would afford him an undisturbed night's sleep and quiet the nagging doubt that Eli might believe his actions interference.

Despite the pounding of a headache that threatened with each strike to split his skull in two, Darcy was up early for breakfast. He needed to speak with her before Richard came down. The words of his 'composed' apology were mumbled every few minutes just in case he needed to make some final improvements. A few other guests gave him surreptitious looks. Obviously they thought him suffering from hallucinations. He wished he was not quite so well known to the staff and patrons of this inn. In one day, he had managed to spawn the rumour that his tastes bent toward young men. Now, in this part of the country, he would be remembered as a likely candidate for Bedlam.

The wait was interminable. Several cups of coffee later, the throbbing had lessened, but his anxiety had increased with every minute she did not appear. He wondered whether he had angered her to the point she had departed alone on Rucio. For several minutes, he fretted for her safety until he realized such an action would make her a common horse thief. Would she stoop that low to punish him? Well perhaps, he might deserve such wrath but surely not his sister. He tried to eat, but his stomach was knotted with apprehension. Sounds of someone descending the stairs caused him to look earnestly in that direction. Should he smile with the pleasure he always felt when he saw her face each morning – perhaps, show her his dimples – or was it more appropriate after yesterday to look repentant? Mr. Fielding came into view; and a crestfallen Darcy hoped his face did not betray too much disappointment. The sound of another's tread set in motion a second bout of anxious expectation. This time it was Richard. Damn, he would be denied time alone with her.

"Mr. Darcy, good morning."

"Good morning, Mr. Fielding."

"Call me Harry. I was actually named for my famous ancestor; but as I made my way following in his footsteps, I decided it was pretentious to introduce myself as Henry Fielding."

Darcy was a little taken aback by his modesty. "You should be proud of your family and your illustrious relations."

Mr. Fielding actually blushed at Darcy's words. "I am, but let us not talk of me. Where is the banty rooster this morning? Elisha is such an engaging fellow."

Richard had reached the table and Darcy observed his quizzical look as he replied to Harry's query. "I have not seen Eli this morning. Perhaps, he drank too much last night and is finding it painful facing the day." He gestured toward his cousin. "Mr. Fielding, Harry, May I introduce, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam. Richard, as you can see from Harry's waistcoat, is a member of the Bow Street Horse Patrol. He is in pursuit of Gentleman Jack and his band of cut throats. The colonel is my cousin and will be joining me on the continuation of my journey home for Christmas."

Harry nodded to Richard, but soon returned to his favourite topic. "And the young man expecting a growth spurt any day now?"

Darcy was beginning to panic, and he prayed that his next words were true. "Yes, Mr. Bartlett will accompany us."

Richard seemed to be giving him an accusatory look. "Darce, who is this enigmatic companion of yours? From what I am hearing he must be quite small. Are you certain he is he up for such a strenuous trip... particularly if there are highwaymen in the vicinity?

Mr Fielding was oblivious to the developing tension between the two cousins. "Colonel, wait until you see him for yourself. He is, 'small but mighty' to quote his estimation." Darcy tried to share Harry's laughter, but he saw too many problems to enjoy an example of her delightful wit even for a minute. Darcy almost choked on his next sip of coffee as he listened to the man from Bow Street continue informing Richard of Eli's invented dreams for an exciting life. "Yes, he was hoping to join the Robin Redbreasts. I believe he thought he would look quite appealing to the ladies in our red waistcoat and blue greatcoat. Colonel, he will take one look at you, and see how dashing you appear in your uniform, and the Horse Patrol will be forgotten. Mark my words, he will shift his loyalties and set his sights on joining your regiment. Mr. Darcy, you should suggest that Mr. Bartlett buy his son a commission – as an alternative to returning to school. The military is a fine career and that might interest the old gentleman as a solution for quashing Eli's wild behaviour."

Darcy was spared any further explanation to Richard. The door opened, and he could hear her voice talking with a young woman. She had obviously resumed her flirtatious ways. Her face glowed and her eyes seemed brightened by exercise – she had never looked more beautiful. Hoping the envy he felt for the young woman receiving Eli's attention would not be perceived, he donned his mask of inscrutability. Jealousy gave way to an odd admiration as he listened. Unfortunately, his attention to the couple drew the interest of the other two men.

Fielding pointed in Eli's direction. "There he is now, Colonel Fitzwilliam. He certainly knows how to charm young women."

Darcy agreed with the assessment and chuckled quietly with the knowledge she had not even had the chance to observe Richard in action. He felt a chill as he remembered she had been exposed to Wickham's appeal. Was that the source of her skill? As he wondered at Eli's ease, the girl giggled and said, "Elisha, I will have cook poach a couple of these eggs you helped me collect. I will describe how you like them served on toasted muffins with a slice of ham and a bit of cheese sprinkled on top. I have never been away from here; but I am certain if I were to leave, I would also remember with pleasure all the things I had grown to love at home. When ready, I will bring them to your table. Will you be joining Mr. Darcy?" The query seemed pointed, and to Darcy it implied knowledge of his cruelty.

Darcy held his breath as he waited for Eli's reply. The words when they came only revealed amiability and no hint of shared intrigue, "Yes, Dolly, I will."

Elisha Bartlett swaggered toward the table of men. Before he arrived, he stopped at the trestle table laden with breakfast fare for the guests. No need for food – as Eli's meal was being seen to by the innkeeper's pretty daughter. Eli's face was wreathed with smug satisfaction at the success of her performance. Darcy knew he should ignore her and return his attention to his tablemates. He could not, and his eyes watched her anxiously hoping to determine her mood before she joined the trio. After she poured herself a cup of tea, he saw a slight shift of her rear as though she felt some need to adjust an article of clothing. Eli was taunting him, and he was helpless to do anything but watch as she toyed with him before an audience. Richard definitely had been eyeing him suspiciously since he had first heard Mr. Fielding mention his diminutive travelling partner. He hoped his worldly cousin would not see through Eli's disguise. The space next to Darcy on the wooden bench was empty and she claimed the spot with a casual drop. Once seated, she went into her best Bingley slouch, and the action caused her thigh to touch his. The pressure was slight, but she left it where it rested.

"Richard, this is an acquaintance of mine." He felt her abruptly move away as he uttered the designation 'acquaintance.' He struggled to keep dismay from breaking through his mask and began again. "Actually, Richard, with this trip, Eli and I have had the opportunity to become more than acquaintances. We have enjoyed speaking of the many interests we share in common, and I now consider him a close friend. A renewed brush of her leg against his was the reward for his revised introduction. "Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, this is Mr. Elisha Bartlett. Eli, Colonel Fitzwilliam is my cousin and he will be travelling with us to Derbyshire." Eli seemed to pause a moment to size up his cousin. Could she be devising a strategy for how to play the game?

"Capital, capital, I will be afforded an opportunity to grill you on the truth of military life." Darcy knew from whom she had borrowed that phrase. A vision of Sir William Lucas flashed before his eyes. He wondered whether Eli planned to ask his cousin if he spent much time at St. James. She did not. Her conversation took a decidedly different turn. "How I envy that uniform. If only I could appear as strong and manly." Darcy's strangled choke at her words brought out his handkerchief in an attempt to cover his reaction – his pretence was that he had been set upon by a sneeze.

She paid little attention to his discomfort and did not even look in his direction. An insincere mumbled "Bless, you" was all the recognition she deigned to dispense. Her eyes searched the room as she continued, "Most of the female patrons are stealing looks in your direction, and I am certain it is your red coat and those gold epaulettes that are the attraction... although Mr. Fielding's waistcoat is quite handsome as well. My green one is nothing in comparison to the crimson of his. Mr. Darcy is no threat to the two of you – he looks positively morose dressed all in black – although it matches his almost perpetual dour expression. Of course, it is not just the clothes. A major allure for the ladies' is that both of you have adventurous occupations – defending the populace from Napoleon and highwaymen. I am unsure what it is Fitz does, but it could hardly be as exciting or important as the two of you." Darcy forced himself to ignore her barb for the time being. Instead he focussed appreciatively on the name she had finally used.

"Fitz?" Darcy remained composed as his cousin's eyes searched his for a reaction. When none came Richard shook his head in amused amazement, and turned to Mr. Fielding. "You should have forced me to wager on his response."

The flash of delight on Eli's face with what her banter had wrought calmed Darcy, but he knew her comment about his appearance would bother him later. He relaxed his body with the awareness she had no intention of assuming the guise of one affronted by gossip in response to Richard's words. His shift increased the shared contact of their thighs – two could play her game.

No awareness of his escalation was acknowledged. Instead she brusquely asked the Robin Redbreast, "Have you been speaking of me, Mr. Fielding?"

At Eli's tone, Harry seemed less sure he had not given offense and quickly replied. "Yes, but rest assured nothing untoward was mentioned."

Eli's laugh told the men he was anything but insulted. "So, the caper that resulted in my being booted from school has not yet been shared." This time as she told the story of stealing the don's drawers, she played to Richard. She seemed determined to win the distrustful military man with her Puckish charm. By the time the latest rendition was finished, Richard was holding his sides and laughing harder than Darcy had seen him in years. Since his return from Spain, he had struggled to shake the horrors he had seen. "Colonel, do you believe the army would deny me entrance because of my lapse in judgement?"

"No, believe me if that is your only indiscretion you will be a most virtuous recruit. Your prank is quite humorous but hardly a sign of anything more than youthful exuberance." Darcy prayed his cousin would experience blurred vision as he searched Eli's face. He seemed to be looking for evidence of facial hair. "Exactly how old are you?"

Darcy felt her hand touch his leg. It was neither a caress nor a provocation to embarrass her proud accuser – just a gentle warning. He decided she was preparing to bend the truth and hoped to prevent another choking episode. He put down his coffee in anticipation. "I am eighteen. Is that too young, Colonel? Do you think me too short? Mr. Darcy frets about my size, but I am forever telling him not to underestimate those of us small in stature – remember Napoleon. I am certain we will finally defeat the tyrant, but a leader of troops twice his size could hardly be a more formidable opponent."

Richard and Harry laughed as she had obviously planned. My, she was good at diversion, but he was not distracted enough to miss her reversion to 'Mr. Darcy.' He suppressed a sigh, and placed his hand atop hers in supplication. It was a daring act, but he wanted her to know he was sorry for his behaviour last night. The table covered their indiscretion. She turned her hand over and laced her fingers with his. They remained entwined for a few seconds before she gave him a squeeze and abandoned their clandestine communication. He hoped the gesture was a harbinger of reconciliation.

Rubbing her hands together she exclaimed, "It is much colder than yesterday. Are you gentlemen prepared to face the elements?"

Not appearing to have given up his mistrust of this young man his cousin had sprung on him, Richard seemed determined to engage Eli in more conversation. "Mr. Bartlett, how long have you been out and about this morning?"

"I have been walking the countryside for hours thinking about some personal matters – making amends with my father – and taking in the sights. For the last several years I have found it difficult to stay abed once the cock rises."

Darcy had been wondering what her thoughts had been this morning and was not prepared for her shocking confession – luckily he had no coffee in his mouth. Richard did, but the amount was little and the spray was not as bad as it could have been. Still, the colonel's handkerchief made an appearance. When cleaned up, his cousin smirked. Harry looked somewhat startled at both Richard's reaction and the young man's ease in discussing such a personal event. Eli's furtive glance at Darcy betrayed a lack of understanding of Richard's reaction to her words, but she quickly covered the blunder with aplomb. She laughed wickedly and raised an impertinent eyebrow – but said nothing.

Darcy experienced a rush of conflicting emotions. Happily, he saw she had been bluffing last night. No dark and unsavoury experience, gained behind bushes or up against walls, tarnished the innocence of her maidenhood – if she could talk with such total frankness about barnyard animals. All she had deduced was he enjoyed watching her from behind in breeches and in retaliation for his pettiness had decided to exploit his weakness. Richard was now speaking; and Darcy realized the situation had just gone from bad to worse. What could he possibly tell her if she asked him to explain his cousin's words?

"You need to give in and just pet the animal until he calms down. It has been my experience that quiets the beast most definitively. You will then be able to go back to sleep. How old did you say you were, Eli?"

He felt her body stiffen, but she gave Richard a look of friendly defiance as she replied. "Eighteen... well, eighteen in three months."

Darcy knew he had to do something to protect her. He looked over at a table with a young woman and her companion and whispered. "Richard, someone will hear us. It is unseemly to indulge in such talk with ladies present. What if the patrons over there were Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley? They stayed here just three nights ago." The entire table looked over at the young woman and her companion and received a rather severe nod in greeting from the older woman. "Our family has always chosen to rest here at this inn because of the high quality of the guests and the excellent service. The Fitzwilliams and the Darcys are known to the management, and our behaviour must be above reproach in such an establishment."

Richard looked at him as though he thought him a prig, but spoke in compliance with his censure. "You are correct cousin. But, I believe those ladies only thought we were having a gentlemanly discussion of raising poultry."

Luckily Dolly chose that moment to bring Eli her breakfast. Eli raised her voice slightly and her words were surely heard at the table with the two ladies. "Thank you Miss Hart. "The eggs look perfect – just as our cook at home prepares them. Give my compliments to the kitchen staff. The gentlemen were listening to my description of the inn's chickens. I was assuring them of the quality and quantity of the eggs produced. They were particularly interested in hearing of your prize winning rooster.

"Aye sir, he is a wonder at pleasing my ladies and keeping them from becoming too broody. We would not have near so many eggs, if Big Red did not set out at the crack of dawn crowing and motivating the hens to lay."

To Darcy, his friend seemed about to crow as she surveyed the look of awe on the faces of the men at the table. Without understanding the inappropriateness of the conversation, she had deftly manoeuvred the talk back to precisely what his cousin had suggested. Instead of imitating a rooster, she attacked her eggs with relish. A smack of her lips and a flirtatious smile preceded her compliment. "Oh Dolly, they are delicious. I will make it a point to stay at your father's establishment in the future – for both the food and the company."

After a beaming Dolly departed, Richard turned to his cousin and said, "Darcy your friend knows how to please the ladies. You could learn much from him." He and Harry then decided it was time to visit the breakfast buffet to fix a plate of food.

Darcy knew it was now or never, if he was to say something by way of an apology. "I was angry last evening, and angry people are rarely wise. I had prepared a very humorous apology involving Milton and Manly, but there will not be time to deliver it. Just know I am sorry for my unkind words."

"Mr. Darcy... " Darcy's face fell. Hers softened with his reaction, and she started over. "Fitz, we were both foolishly furious and said things we did not mean."

He hesitated and could barely believe he was asking – but he had to know. "Did you mean, just now, what you said about my appearance and occupation in front of Richard and Mr. Fielding?"

"Your cousin was suspicious; and you told me about the competition, going back to childhood, between the two of you. It seemed a wise diversion at the time."

He exhaled, hardly believing that eager voice was his. "So you do not find me dour and morose?"

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. Then a mischievious light glinting from her eyes, she said, "I find you tolerable."

He was struck dumb at her reminder – he opened his mouth to protest that he had not meant the insult that marked their first meeting, but he saw from her wide grin that he had already been forgiven. He attempted, too late, to look nonchalant.

With more than impertinence, she said, "You are much more than tolerable. I told you the other day how pleasing you looked when you showed your dimples. We have talked of how tall you are; and you have great broad shoulders that fill out your jacket nicely. However, as I said last night – your problem is you rarely smile; and your imposing body can elicit other reactions than admiration from the ladies. You could learn from your cousin. The colonel, even when wary, is jovial and appealing."

He could not help smiling but felt he must also defend himself – his position. "Eli, you demean my responsibilities. Respect by those beneath me is important to the efficient running of Pemberley. I must appear in charge to my tenants, my staff... even my sister."

She shrugged dismissively. "Oh, and a colonel in the army does not have to command respect from his men." Sarcasm dripped from her tone. "You may be right about my lack of appreciation for the responsibilities involved in running an estate. My observations of the occupation are based on my father. He seems required to do little and spends the majority of his time in his library reading... avoiding the rest of his family." She tilted her head and sought his eyes. The sound he heard was barely a whisper. "Fitz, from the moment I met you, I thought you quite attractive. Let us not quarrel."

His heart began pounding with something akin to ecstasy, and he could not stop his tongue. He returned her gaze and leaned very close to her ear. He said in a similar soft tone, "Elizabeth, soon after I met you, I was forced to acknowledge that you were the handsomest woman of my acquaintance."

Later he wondered what he had hoped her reaction would be. He saw her startled look turn to fury. She scanned the room to see if they were the object of scrutiny by any of the other patrons. His eyes followed hers and came to an abrupt halt when they met Richard's penetrating gaze.

Chapter 7 – He Was Not Yet a Man but Much More than a Boy

Posted on: 2010-04-20

With the words just uttered between him and Eli still hanging in the air, Darcy met his cousin's curious look. He quickly assessed Richard was too far away to have heard them, but he probably wondered at Eli's expression. Richard wore the air of military seriousness he sometimes affected when displeased. Eli bolted up and mumbled something about returning to the room. Darcy felt he was being deserted by the wily Eli to face an impending inquisition alone.

He watched in mingled panic and – longing?--her retreating figure affecting an insouciant, boyishly loose stride. Guiltily, he told himself that all he had done was express his conviction of her being the most handsome woman of his acquaintance. After all, did she not say women liked compliments? Why, then, had she met his as if he had suddenly poured cold water on her? Another quieter voice within, the same one that had suggested the night before that he should not have more to drink, now piped up to whisper--this was not the time and place.

He busied himself with the task of spreading jam on his toast with far more attentive effort than it needed, as he pretended not to hear Richard huffing and taking his seat. Darcy surreptitiously raised one eye and noted his cousin's countenance remained marked by disapproval. True, he had been entirely too intimate with a young man – thank God Richard did not realize it was a young woman or that expression of disapproval would be magnified into outraged censure – not of his family in a room full of people. Colonel Fitzwilliam was certain to remind him their kind should never be guilty of such a public display.

Wait a minute – this was Richard, not his insipid brother Marmaduke. Still, Darcy saw Richard's demeanour seemed bent on chastising him. Luckily, Harry had missed all the drama as his back had been turned toward the table. He looked confused when he perceived Eli was missing. "Mr. Darcy, where is your friend?"

"He had to take care of an urgent call of nature." Heat from the discomfort of deception coursed through him, and his hands were shaking ever so slightly. He hid them under the table wishing hers were there to steady his nerves. Still, he felt somewhat giddy with his ability to formulate a plausible excuse so quickly. Would she have delivered a squeeze in approval? "What are your plans for the day, Harry?"

"I received an express from one of my comrades. Gentleman Jack robbed a coach near Holbrook." He lowered his voice to be discreet. "A young lady was assaulted. It's outside our official jurisdiction, but their crimes are becoming ever more heinous. My fellow officer, Mr. Grimsby, and I will check out those environs. The trio of highwaymen – it is possible a fourth has joined their band – are likely to be emboldened by their successful attack and the expectation that the Horse Patrol does not travel so far. We hope the element of surprise will be on our side, to capture them in the act, once and for all."

The news piqued Richard's interest in something other than his cousin's indiscretion. "Will two of you be enough?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders with uncertainty but said, "We hope so. There may be more of them, but they aren't expecting Bow Street to be so far from London. The element of surprise should give us an advantage."

Darcy now had something new to worry about. "I had planned on our staying near Holbrook at the Sheltering Chestnut Inn, but now I am concerned that we might encounter those fiends."

"I would not think they would remain in that vicinity. They seem to be heading further into Derbyshire. I am waiting here for Mr. Grimsby to meet up with me, and then we are heading in that direction. The Sheltering Chestnut is where we are staying the night as well. I hope to see you there... unless we have already captured the fiends as you call them. If that be the case, we will deliver them to the authorities in Derby."

"Do you think it possible they will head back in this direction?"

"Anything is possible with Gentleman Jack and his band. You and Eli are lucky to be travelling with Colonel Fitzwilliam. He should be a deterrent to your being their victim."

Richard finally spoke to him and Darcy was certain he heard sarcasm. "Darcy, why are we only going to Holbrook? We should be able to make Matlock with no trouble. Oh yes, now I remember. We have to worry about your young friend. We would not want to tire the boy unduly now, would we?"

Darcy did not respond and silence fell over the table. Mr. Fielding had finally picked up on the animosity between the two cousins. When he finished eating, he said his goodbyes with the hope to see them again soon and went outside to check his horse.

Richard kept his voice low and his face composed, but his eyes meant business. "Darce, who is Elisha Bartlett?"

Darcy prayed he looked nonchalant. "The son of a friend in Derbyshire."

"Why have I never heard of his family?"

"I have friends of whom you are unaware."

A smirk replaced his cousin's probing gaze. "Not many. You are hardly of a social inclination."

Darcy relied on his old standby of a raised eyebrow to express his disdain. He remembered the gesture now had a pleasurable association. "His father is a business acquaintance." A shard of discontent with Elizabeth's assessment of his life's work sliced through his gut and honed his argument. "Regardless of what Eli says about the unimportance of my occupation, my obligations are many. I meet people you know nothing of in the course of managing Pemberley."

Richard seemed to ignore his imperious look. He chuckled, and Darcy assumed he had remembered Eli's words demeaning his appearance and importance. "There is something odd about your relationship with that boy. His tongue seems very secure in his bond with you. There is not the expected deference for the difference in rank." His cousin narrowed his eyes and rubbed his chin in contemplation. "Perhaps, Eli is your father's son. Have you recently learned you have a brother and decided to take him under your wing?"

"Unlike your father, George Darcy did not have affairs or mistresses. He loved my mother."

"Your mother was already deceased when this young man was born."

"Eli said he was almost eighteen. My mother was very much alive."

Richard seemed adamant and his words were becoming more forceful as they continued to argue. "You will never convince me Elisha is seventeen. Just look at him. What about all those rumours about Wickham being your father's son?"

Darcy struggled to control his fury. Seeing this Richard looked as if he was about to apologize for the insult, but Darcy cut him off in a low and deliberate voice, "Richard, this discussion is at an end. Wickham is not my brother. If he was, he would have pressured me with such a contention as the reason my father promised him the living. Had he a shred of evidence for shared parentage, I would consider it my duty to help him despite my disapproval of his character. It is not a secret I judge him to be depraved, but even I do not believe he plotted to elope with his sister."

Neither Eli nor Richard spoke to Darcy during the morning leg of their journey. Richard spent the time chatting with Eli – obviously trying to ferret out exactly who Elisha Bartlett was. Darcy observed nothing untoward in their interaction. Within half an hour they were laughing, and Darcy was able to catch snatches of their conversation. Soon Richard's voice dominated with tales designed to mesmerize an eagerly curious youth with stories of war. Her admiring listener stance seemed successful in winning over the worldly military man. He might continue to wonder about Eli's relationship with his cousin, but he did not appear to think him an unworthy young man – or the worst alternative imaginable – a young woman.

When they stopped to rest the horses, refresh themselves and eat a meal, Darcy caught Eli's eye to let her know, he would distract Richard for a few minutes while she had privacy upstairs. Two rooms for several hours rest for three men would have been entirely too suspicious to his cousin. Her smile of gratitude – though guarded – was a step toward a rapprochement, and there was even a brushing of hands as she took the key to the room.

To buy time for Eli, his ruse with Richard was to propose they indulge in some brandy – not too much to dull some of his senses – but enough to take the edge off others. They sat before the fireplace in the common room with their drinks much as they had the night before. "I have ordered our meal to be delivered to the room. Eli went on up. He did not want to indulge in strong spirits. I think he is still feeling a bit under the weather from imbibing last night."

They sipped in silence for several minutes. Darcy, still nervous about what his cousin might be thinking despite the seeming rapport that had developed between him and Eli, asked with a greater show of nonchalance than he truly felt, "So what was the result of your interrogation? Did you learn anything intriguing about my young friend?"

A smile tugged at the corners of Richard's mouth, as he stared at Darcy with intensity. "I was often reminded of someone as we talked. It is his intelligence and rapier wit that brings to mind an acquaintance from the past." Richard's smile became a full throated laugh. "As the cock crows, the young cock grows. That he is a small rooster does not quite fit with my conjecture, but then there is his absolute certainty he is due to grow. That suggests at least one of his parents is tall to have raised such firm expectations."

Darcy, sipping his brandy, had a quizzical, impatient look. Richard paused, seeming to enjoy the moment – and his own brilliance. He said, "Darcy, I believe the reason you are so protective is that Eli is your son."

Darcy spat out half the brandy in his mouth and choked on the rest. As he coughed, Richard leapt up to clap him on the back. He had a broad smile on his face and an immensely smug look in his eye.

Once able to speak again, Darcy sputtered, "My son! How could you come to such a stupid... My god, man, he is eighteen years old and I am twenty-eight. I never realized you were such a simpleton, Richard."

Richard stuck his tongue out and blew a very rude sound in response. "He is not eighteen. The lad admitted he had embroidered the truth. He has no hint of a beard. His skin is flawless – not a spot anywhere. Perhaps, he is but fourteen or maybe thirteen. Elisha could be the result of an early dalliance of yours – perhaps with a servant or the daughter of a tenant? Uncle George would have protected the family name and done the honourable thing by the boy."

His cousin seemed confident of his theory even as Darcy stared in utter disbelief and amazement. His other reaction was an immediate desire to share this with her so they could laugh together. That thought brought despair because he doubted whether she would ever again allow him the closeness of last evening. Watching her eyes light up at his cousin's nonsensical conjecture was a most delightful image. How he longed to share the humour of this moment with her.

He realized his cousin was smirking and looking expectantly for his response. Laughing in Richard's face would probably be the wrong reaction and might encourage him to dig for other theories why Darcy would find such an idea about Eli so amusing. Much as he had decided to allow the rumour of his taste for young men to go unchallenged, Darcy contemplated allowing this ridiculous premise to have legs.

But then he imagined the fury with which she might respond to find he had allowed his cousin to believe she was really his bastard. No, she might like that forced connection even less than telling her she was beautiful.

With a stern expression and sarcastic tone to convey that his cousin had mush for brains, Darcy spoke slowly as one does to idiots, "Richard you knew me well at thirteen and fourteen. Do you remember me bold and pleasing to young women? Only a few hours ago you accused me of being deficient socially. Perhaps you now are implying I was once a flirt like Elisha, and my shame at the ill-conceived result... " He laughed at his unintended pun. "of the planting of my seed propelled me to revert to the Darcy you enjoy taunting for being so uncomfortable around the ladies?"

Eli interrupted them at that moment, startling both men. Darcy noticed Richard seemed to eye Eli with both a hint of embarrassment and a great deal of curiosity – as if sketching his features for a Darcy likeness.

Unaware of the discomfort between the two men, Eli's lips twitched in what Darcy perceived as a hint of discomfort despite her confident and easy manner. "Our luncheon is being set up. I procured a carrot and an apple for Rucio. I am going to pay her a visit and will join you in a few minutes." Darcy acknowledged Eli's awareness of the real men's need for privacy during their calls of nature as well as hers with a nod.

On the road again after lunch, they travelled in silence. Richard seemed uncustomarily moody, and Darcy thought his cousin was probably wrestling with whether he had guessed the truth or merely offered a wildly inappropriate speculation. Eli also seemed to be deep in thought.

For the first time Darcy saw her club. It was impressive in its ingenuity. Obviously, she was not the ninny he had thought with regard the need for protection as she faced the world alone. The top was wickedly bulbous and the grip whittled down to a width that seemed perfect to be wielded by her small hands. A carved hole in the handle was strung through with what looked like a braided plait of red yarn to fashion a strap. For easy access, she wore it across her body – resting against her hip. Had she donned it now to intimidate him; or had Richard spoken to Eli about the recent attack of Gentleman Jack? Probably she was armed for the latter, but he considered her action seriously. He had called her 'Elizabeth' in public; and his words of her beauty – though complimentary and heartfelt – had been unwelcome while she was disguised as a boy. Was she warning him his act was grievous enough to deserve a blow to the head or groin?

As they rode, his mind wandered back to his discussion with Eli the night before. She had seemed genuinely concerned about his need for someone to consult in trying times. All three of his close friends were quite different, and the nature of his relationship with each varied.

Darcy never shared his true feelings or life plans with Bingley. They were friends who together indulged in the activities available to well situated young men – sport, fencing, gambling and the occasional ball. The amiable Bingley – though from trade – was a younger brother who needed guidance. Darcy enjoyed being useful to him and vicariously enjoyed his carefree approach to life and love. Miss Bennet had seemed to provoke a change in him from a feckless youth to a man determined to aid her family as they faced harsh circumstances.

Richard had always played the role of Darcy's older brother. It was not that he did much mentoring – that role had been George Darcy's. But, he was a boon companion and had taken prodigious care of his cousin in the wake of his father's death. The diversions he provided helped to assuage the grief, and Richard was stalwart in his role as Georgiana's co-guardian.

His thoughts turned to his sister. If an appropriate marriage was the ultimate goal, a woman's point of view would probably be more insightful than the outlook of two bachelors. This need had become more pressing since the incident at Ramsgate. Neither of the men knew how to help Georgiana with what they assumed was profound guilt. She was withdrawn and had been adamant she would see no one but family and her pianoforte master when recently in London. If it was not for the solace she found in music, his sister would have refused to even see the very grandfatherly Mr. Lester. Darcy was most confused by the rage that engulfed her sometimes. Eli's encouragement to hear his sister's hopes and desires crowded into his thoughts and brought him to his third friend.

For a few minutes, he planned how to approach his conference the next day with Jamie Wilder as he solicited his help with Eli's future. Darcy had stressed in his express that he was in a spot of trouble and desperately needed his friend's advice. That should bring Jamie to his aid – providing none of his patients was in a particularly bad way. Jamie approached life with a passion that Darcy had rarely seen and helping a friend would surely ignite his almost desperate need to be of service to humanity. There were plenty of surgeons and apothecaries in Derbyshire who were available to deliver the more mundane care patient's seemed to allow. Mr. Wilder thought bleedings a waste of time, and he was not above bending Darcy's ear about the study he had done of William Harvey's description of the circulatory system – to prove his point. The Irishman was as filled with pride for both his profession and the country of his birth as Darcy's Uncle Henry was of being the Earl of Elderton and the grandson of the Duke of Wildfaire.

Jamie had studied at both Trinity in Dublin and at Oxford before he trained with the best physicians in England at the Royal College. The Darcy and Fitzwilliam families had been instrumental in developing his innovative practice. The young self-exiled Irishman, fresh from his training at the Royal College, had been entrusted with Darcy's father's care in his last years. All knew the senior Mr. Darcy was dying, but the physician made the comfort of his patient his priority and allowed the proud man to prepare his children for his demise.

In the wake of the care of his father, the best families of Derbyshire had endorsed his practice; and Jamie and Darcy had become friends. The line between their relative positions in society had blurred significantly over the past few years. Jamie was the one Darcy could speak with about his most private problems – even ones that were not strictly of a medical nature. Eli had advised the need for such a confidante; and the doctor, more and more, played that role for a Darcy who was often overwhelmed with responsibility and unsure how to approach his rapidly changing world.

Dr. Wilder was two years older than Richard, and both had seen much to horrify and demoralize. Still, their manner was entirely different – at least in the substance of his discussions with each man. Richard's air of flippancy and cynicism was replaced in the physician by a willingness to evaluate problems with a unique acceptance of life's inevitable sadness combined with optimism for the future. Jamie saw their age as filled with the expectation of profound change and poked fun at Darcy's tendency to cling to the rigid restrictions of the past. As he watched Eli ride ahead of him, he was struck by a similarity between his two friends. Hope blended with an awareness of harsh realities, lightened by a love of laughter, stood out as characteristic of his discourse with both Eli and Jamie.

Darcy hoped to find some clarity when he delved into his feelings for Elizabeth with Jamie. Jamie understood better than most the pain of leaving home and family behind. Darcy's discussion last night filled him with the fear that Eli seemed to be losing all belief in the possibility of her happiness – or perhaps it was a shifting of her definition of happiness. The loss of her family – most importantly her sister Jane – seemed to everyday become, more and more, important to her well being. If he could just rid her life of the threat of Collins, she would have more palatable options for the future.

Darcy war shaken out of his reverie as Richard clapped him on the back. His cousin was signalling him of the need to take a detour into the woods. Unsure of what Eli understood of the need for the stop, Darcy told her to go on, and they would catch up in a few minutes. He remained at the mouth of the path his cousin had taken just in case she decided to investigate. Still seeming to be lost in her thoughts, she was not the least bit curious.

As he watched her retreating down the road, he became determined he must talk to her about last night. What had she made of his words – most of which he had decided he did not mean? In the light of day, his feelings were quite the opposite. The windmill of his mind had been set in motion with his admission this morning. The timing and place might have been unfortunate, but it was the truth and he owed her honesty... and perhaps a proposal. He was not dependent on his family for his living, and his reputation as a good man had as much to do with his treatment of his neighbours, staff and tenants as it did with his pedigree. His aunt and uncle demanded respect only as a result of the circumstances of their birth. Neither had much to recommend them beyond a certain status society had conferred. His parents though from the same circle had married for love.

Darcy turned to look down the narrow path Richard had ridden. He seemed to be taking an inordinate amount of time, and Darcy's anxiety grew with every second. Turning back around, his discomfort grew with Eli being out of sight. Just as he decided to go after her, two men came barrelling down the road with Mr. Fielding and another Robin Redbreast following – pistols drawn – in hot pursuit. Harry roared above the din of the horses' hooves as they passed, "We are after two of Gentleman Jack's gang and Elisha is chasing the man himself."

Darcy's was certain his heart stopped as the most hideous images tumbled about his head. The bloody simpleton would be killed. All she had was a club and her riding skills were rudimentary at best. He dug his heels into Rocinante and they galloped at break neck speed to save his Dulcinea from death at the hands of a pistol wielding fiend.

Darcy's mumbled prayers were combined with urging the chestnut to go faster. "Please, God, please God, save her... I promise I will never again say 'damn' or 'bloody' again if you will just protect her from harm. Rocinante, Eli needs me... put on some speed... I must save her."

Up ahead he spotted a carriage. The scene frightened Darcy as he drew close enough to see the devastation at the hands of the highway men. His nostrils were assaulted with the odour of gunpowder mixed with blood as he surveyed the scene. Eli was not visible; and his heart soared with hope for her safety – only to be dashed with the realization she had, as Harry had said, probably followed Gentleman Jack.

The driver of the elegant barouche and both footmen were injured or possibly even murdered. One man was on the ground in a pool of red – out cold or worse. The coachman was slumped over up on his bench, and the third, though bloody, was kneeling by his fellow footman.

A very beautiful young woman sat on a box holding the ripped bodice of her gown together – a fur trimmed pelisse was draped about her shoulders. She had obviously been handled roughly. A bonnet trimmed to match the coat, lay at her feet. Long auburn tresses – having lost most of the pins that held them in place – gleamed in the afternoon sun. An ugly red spot spread from her full crimson lips across her cheek. Her large dark eyes shone with what he believed were unshed tears, but her attempt to remain in charge made him unsure. She spoke with an air of authority. "Sir, I am Lady Clarissa Holmes. The men travelling with me and my companion, Mrs. Partridge, need help." She pointed in the direction of the carriage. Visible through the open door, an older woman sprawled in a most unladylike fashion across one of the seats. She seemed to have either fainted or been knocked unconscious.

Darcy stammered some condolences for her trouble, but could not rid himself of the image of Eli being beaten or shot by a bandit twice her size. What if the highwayman realized she was a woman? Having been thwarted in his assault on Lady Clarissa, would Elizabeth become a substitute? In panic he said, "Where is the young man that the Bow Street fellows said was pursuing Gentleman Jack?"

She smiled for the first time since Darcy arrived. "That young man saved me. He arrived just after the men from Bow Street and was the first to notice that the leader of the bandits was dragging me away toward his horse. I think he was attempting to abduct me. They might have been planning to hold me for ransom. My father is the Earl of Blessing." She seemed to become aware of the state of her clothing. "It is possible that is what they wanted me for... "

Darcy's voice betrayed his need to hurry. "Where did they go?"

The lady's face showed annoyance that he had interrupted her story. "The brave lad was wielding a club. He galloped up to my captor and connected sharply with his shoulder while passing – just like at a jousting tournament. The blow caused the highwayman to unclasp me, but he made it to his horse while my hero was turning to make another pass." She pointed toward a path leading into the forest. "They took off down that lane. Gentleman Jack – as you call him – was only a short distance ahead of my gallant knight. I am certain he will capture the villain."

"Did the highwayman have a pistol?"

Her look indicated she thought his question totally unimportant at the moment. "Yes, they all had pistols. The one that grabbed me had two, and it was he who shot my driver."

Darcy took off down the path toward which she had pointed. He shouted back over his shoulder, "I am unable to stay. That young man needs me." He added that his cousin would be along shortly and could be of assistance, but he doubted she heard. He was much too far down the lane by then.

An image of Gentleman Jack pointing a pistol at Eli's heart drove him forward with a speed he would not have believed possible. Certainly, God would not judge Elizabeth's wearing men's clothes and being alone with him to be as grievous as killing and robbing – he must protect her. As he galloped, he prayed as he had never prayed before. He rode for more than fifteen minutes. Dusk was approaching when he saw a clearing up ahead. As he rode in, he saw Gentleman Jack splayed on the ground with one foot still caught in his stirrup. He was not conscious and blood poured from his head. Eli remained on Rucio and was staring in wonder at her opponent.

Darcy was as amazed as she appeared to be at the spectacle in front of him. He dismounted and walked over to the grey. Neither spoke as he lifted her off the mare and clasped her to his chest. One of the two of them was shaking, but he was not certain which... perhaps both. All he could think to do or say was crush her to him as tightly as possible. Whether it was to keep from falling or something else, her arms wound around his neck and her legs encircled his waist. Darcy's hands – responding to a perceived need to steady her – grasped Eli's bottom. His kisses began lightly, brushing her eyelids and temples, accompanied by the whispered refrain, "You are safe, you are safe, you are safe."

He must have found her lips, but perhaps she found his. It was difficult to perceive where he ended and she began. Their intent seemed to be to become one body. Whoever made first contact increased the pressure from slight caresses to bruising insistency. Mouths opened and tongues pushed in probing. The blaze of their unleashed combustion threatened to render him unconscious like her highwayman foe – his trapped foot making him look ridiculous in defeat. For a second the picture that a passerby might see, of two men kissing with abandon – limbs entwined – flashed before Darcy's eyes. The image was quickly wiped away by the power of the moment's pleasure. His hands began squeezing her bottom – without the excuse of keeping her from falling – but just because the flesh seemed to want to be fondled. Her fingers twined in and out of the curls at the nape of his neck – sending shivers down his spine. Darcy wondered whether they were celebrating her victory over Gentleman Jack or whether he was surrendering his soul.

The snap of a branch somewhere nearby broke apart their kiss. Darcy realized the sun would soon set, but there was enough light for him to ascertain that the bandit was still out and had not been the source of the disturbance. Perhaps, some woodland animal was moving nearby. She had also heard the sound and jerked her legs free of his torso. Startled eyes stared at him as she slid down his body to the ground. Her mouth – lips swollen from their passion – opened as if she meant to speak. No other sound but their still heavy breathing was audible.

His arms were still about her, and he stared at her intently. "You must promise me you will never do that again."

Eli looked mortified at his words. She pushed away from his embrace, squared her shoulders and looked directly into his eyes. Just a hint of tremble in her voice, she said with remarkable composure, "Mr. Darcy, as I have told you before, a week from now I hope to be back in Hertfordshire preparing to be an obedient wife. Whatever lapse of propriety that provoked me to return your kiss will never happen again."

As with every time she mentioned marrying that ridiculous man, Darcy could not control his annoyance. He spoke vehemently and without thought. "You damn, little fool, I meant attacking a highwayman!"

Eli's hands went to her hips in a defiant stance. She gave him that look that had often proclaimed – I will not be intimidated. "Oh, Mr. Darcy, there is no need to utter oaths or demean my intelligence and my size. I am not that little... for a woman. How was I to know your meaning? Only last evening you charged me with luring you into marriage. It was reasonable to think you became offended when I kissed you. In my defence, the excitement of capturing Gentleman Jack carried me away, and I quite forgot proper behaviour."

He could barely conceal his amusement at her defence of her stature, but he did have an important point he needed to relay. "Damn, Eli, you must not call me Mr. Darcy ever again."

She seemed to find his words humorous because her glare was softened by a mischievous grin. "Another curse? Another demand? Our recent sharing seems to have given you privileges I did not know were implied."

"Forgive me, but I believe I kissed you first. My relief when I realized you were safe made me and my tongue act improperly. Similarly, I was a big bloody idiot last night. The thought of losing you made me irrational. Now, I have said it – and truth be told – I don't know how I could go on if something were to happen to you." He bent over her much as he did during his tantrum the night before, but this time he hoped she realized his intentions were the opposite. Before his lips claimed hers a second time, he tilted her face up to him.

Her eyes were large and luminous and filled with some raw emotion that he hoped might be love – but could merely be stimulation left over from her daring act. She looked over toward the highwayman to ensure he was not moving and sighed before she spoke softly, her voice trembling. "Your accusation was not without some truth. I would much prefer to spend my life with you than Mr. Collins – but we both know that cannot be."

A new wave of ire began to resurface with her words. "Why do you have to continuously bring him into our conversation?"

She did not raise her voice but it was filled with determination as she answered. "Because he is the man who has proposed to me, and it is he who thinks I accepted him. It is Mr. Collins I must marry if I am to be reconciled with my family."

"There are other possibilities to be explored."

A loud moan from Gentleman Jack brought them back to present needs and forced an end to their discussion about the future.

Chapter 8 – See, the Conquering Hero Comes

Posted on: 2010-04-27

The highwayman with his leg still trapped awkwardly in the stirrup was awakening. His rasping moan conveyed a world of hurt. Darcy turned his head to look at the brigand, and when he turned back to the woman who had kissed him with such passion and looked soulfully into his eyes only moments before – she was gone. Elisha, the brash bandit bludgeoner, stood in her place.

Soft tones gone from her voice, she said loudly in case her captive was conscious enough to hear, "Throw this worthless ruffian who assaults helpless ladies across my horse."

Darcy started to protest that the bandit's own was a perfectly good horse to bear the burden. A defiant Eli refused. Nothing would dissuade her from returning to the scene where Gentleman Jack had waylaid the carriage with the bandit slung across Rucio. Darcy suggested to her it might be better to wait for the Bow Street Horse Patrol to find them – as they no doubt would very soon. Eli was adamant she wished to finish the task by taking the highwayman back where Lady Clarissa could be reassured her attacker would never harm another. Darcy also suspected she wanted the victims to know who had captured the fiend. Darcy made certain Gentleman Jack's hands and feet were tied securely before placing him on the grey.

They worked together silently preparing to leave until, looking from her slender form to the rather tall and broad Jack, Darcy could hold his tongue no longer. "Eli, how exactly did you render this fiend unconscious?"

She smiled as she glanced at her opponent and shook her head as if she could not believe her luck – or, her own skill. "I struck but one blow, and it must have hit its mark with considerable force." The highwayman, now belly down on the mare's back, began moaning again as she described her actions. She continued, "Jack had stopped and seemed to be determining which way to go. He called out, but no one came to guide him. This was happening just as I was approaching the clearing, and I kicked Rucio into even greater speed. Somehow I knew his indecision was my opportunity – the whole process reminded me of playing chess with Papa. I made a plan and executed my move." Darcy sighed, remembering his painful fear as he had ridden out to find her.

She said, grinning, "I stood up in the stirrups, let go of the reins and held the club high. Just as he turned in surprise, I struck a blow at his head."

Darcy's sigh was followed by a shudder as he thought of numerous ways her gambit could have ended in disaster. He briefly wondered who Jack had called to but decided the more prudent course of action was to leave – just in case, there was another of the gang waiting in the bushes to free the highwayman. If he was there, it appeared he was not particularly loyal to his leader.

Eli, erect and confident, patted the cudgel resting against her hip. "Fitz, never fear, I am ready to cosh Gentleman Jack again – if need be."

When they arrived back at the carriage, Elisha Bartlett proudly led the procession. Darcy followed and the highwayman's steed brought up the rear. The passengers of the carriage, including the lady and her companion who had now regained consciousness, the slightly wounded footman and Colonel Fitzwilliam raised their voices in happy surprise and cheering. Lady Clarissa, in a moment of rather unladylike enthusiasm, clapped her hands together and exclaimed, "Elisha, you are a hero! You saved me from this ruffian. You are the best of men!"

Darcy watched the scene with both pride and trepidation. But Eli's secret seemed safer than ever as Harry and his partner from Bow Street rushed to relieve him of the captured bandit. Once dismounted, they clapped the diminutive rescuer numerous times on the back in congratulations and could not shake hands in gratitude enough for helping them to end the scourge of this notorious bandit gang.

Taking advantage of the attention Eli was receiving, he gave a longer look at the lady she had saved. Darcy noted that even dishevelled and tumbled, she was a lovely woman – the pleasing sensation of a recent fondle tugged at the corners of his mouth as he compared Lady Clarissa to the most handsome woman of his acquaintance. The tall auburn-haired beauty seemed to look away in disgust from his gaze; but she favoured his cousin, standing next to her, with a shy smile. Richard in turn, smirked at Darcy.

Colonel Fitzwilliam spoke quietly with Lady Clarissa – while she reacted with all the dignity befitting her station – her gestures toward him were suffused with warmth. Basking in her approving look, he masterfully took command of the situation. Darcy found himself wondering whether he was assuming the role because he was the only representative of the crown present, or whether he was trying to impress the very eligible and wealthy daughter of the Earl of Blessing.

The colonel announced to the Robin Redbreasts, "I will help you take the captives to Derby. With three prisoners it is better to have three guards. Even with one shot and another suffering from a substantial head wound thanks to Mr. Bartlett, we should take no chances. Once they are delivered, I must return to the Sheltering Chestnut. Tomorrow Mr. Darcy, the chivalrous Elisha and I will escort Lady Clarissa to Blessing."

Richard directed the Bow Street men and Eli to secure the bandits across their horses. Darcy watched as she set to the task, but was pulled away from the others for some special instructions by his cousin. "You must know that Lady Clarissa is the one my father has designated for you to marry. Currently, she finds you thoroughly ungallant. She claims you ignored her plight and that of her companion. Cousin, you did not recommend your suit when you went tearing off to help Mr. Bartlett."

Darcy refused to look chagrined. "Gentleman Jack had pistols, and Eli only had a homemade cudgel."

The colonel shook his head at Darcy, but turned his eyes in Eli's direction and smiled. "All the more to admire the young man's daring." His smirk returned as he said, "Fitz, sometime in the near future you must confess why you feel so protective toward this lad. I see no reason to worry about him. He has, indeed, proven himself small but mighty."

Darcy barely heard his cousin's sarcastic use of 'Fitz.' Richard knew he had always despised being addressed as such, and he still did except when the name came from her mouth. He followed Richard's gaze in Eli's direction and watched as she tested the knots fastening the ankles of one of the highwaymen. Darcy sighed and mumbled, "You are correct. He is a force like no other."

He paid as much attention to his cousin's instructions as required, but his mind kept filtering back to the embrace he had shared with the hero of the hour. "Lady Clarissa is the daughter of an earl. A woman of her consequence deserves men of our rank to see to her safety and comfort. It is time for you to make amends for ignoring her needs. I will be back later tonight, but now you must take charge. First, get the carriage and the wounded to the inn. I have checked the injuries and determined that the driver may not make it. He and one of the footmen have been shot. The other has a superficial wound, but he tells me he should be able to drive the carriage. The staff at the inn will know the nearest medical attention available. Most important, Lady Clarissa and Mrs. Partridge need to rest. Are you up to the task?"

Darcy waited a moment before drily replying, "I am certain I will be able to manage." He smiled knowingly at his cousin's posturing and said, "Before all else, I will ensure Lady Clarissa's father is informed as to what has transpired."

The earl's daughter proved to be noble in the treatment of her father's men. She and Mrs. Partridge were solicitous in their care of the driver and footman suffering from gunshot wounds. At Richard's instruction they tore up a petticoat and bound the wounds in an attempt to stop the bleeding. The Earl of Blessing's daughter and her companion – without thoughts for propriety – each cradled one of the men in the carriage to minimize the impact of any bumps in the road that might be encountered.

Darcy admired her lack of hauteur in the situation – it was obvious she seemed to be saving that for him alone. Eli, on the other hand, was often the recipient of Lady Clarissa's smiles. As he watched the two, he became certain that had Eli been taller, of higher status, older and, of course, there was the most salient fact only he knew – a man – these two would be well on their way to making a match.

Travelling the fewer than five miles to the Sheltering Chestnut, Eli rode beside the carriage on the side next to Lady Clarissa. Darcy marvelled at how well Eli played the role of the lady's guardian. Cudgel at the ready and with reassuring smiles, he seemed to take the responsibility very seriously – sitting as tall as possible and extremely proud in the saddle.

As Darcy rode, he played the passionate kiss they had shared – over and over again in his mind – and wondered if Eli had relegated it to the remotest corner of her memory. Was she an excellent actor, or had she forgotten so quickly?

On arrival at the inn, Darcy set about assuring everyone's comfort with his usual calm and competence. An express message to Lady Clarissa's father was dispatched immediately upon arrival at the Sheltering Chestnut. Food and lodgings were secured for all the ladies including the one masquerading as a man. The Earl of Blessing's injured men were seen to by the nearest surgeon, and Darcy paid for the three to be given rooms as comfortable as the ladies. After all were housed, there was only one remaining room. He and his cousin would have to share. Darcy decided to put off bathing until Pemberley. He removed his cravat and boots – but nothing else. The bed beckoned and within minutes, he was asleep sprawled atop the bed clothes.

Unsure of time and place, Darcy awoke with an image in his mind of two men locked in an embrace – the legs of the smaller wrapped around the waist of the taller. He saw the picture with such vividness that it was almost tangible – alternately exciting and frightening. Opening his eyes, he was lying in a total darkness with not even one candle still burning. For a minute it seemed he was still dreaming, hearing a gentle but insistent tap at his door. As he came to full consciousness, the perspiration soaking his hair and shirt suggested the dreams were not of the sweet variety. Just before the manly clinch, he vaguely remembered an impending fall from a cliff.

Eli was speaking softly on the other side of the door. Darcy feared someone at the inn would question the propriety of her visit; when the dishonesty of their relationship and the reality of his dream dawned. He and Eli were the only ones who would know just how beyond the pale of proper behaviour the two of them had travelled or were about to venture. They would be alone in his bedroom, shortly after sharing a passionate kiss, in what he believed was the middle of the night and they were not married – nor even had any plans for such an event – at least with each other.

The light from the hall when she entered was enough to replace the candle stubs with new tapers and illuminate the room. It would not do to be in the dark in her presence. A low chuckle at the double meaning of his thoughts broke the silence. Her presence made him uncertain of his ability to control himself, but, still, he felt locking the door was by far the best choice. She perched on the edge of a chair, as her eyes searched his. "Fitz, we must talk."

Unsettled and unsure about what exactly was to take place, he said, "Yes, at least now, we will be afforded some privacy."

She laughed softly. "We were, indeed, interrupted at an inconvenient moment by Gentleman Jack – but I do not think he heard anything."

Almost as if in contradiction of her statement, someone knocked loudly on the door. Darcy and Eli looked at each other, twin expressions of chagrin and regret on their faces – not unlike two youngsters caught stealing sweets. Another knock at the door was heard. Richard demanded in a tone of unmistakable irritation, "Darcy let me in. The landlord said my accommodation is with you. I am tired and need to sleep."

A startled Eli stood as Darcy crossed the room to open the door for his cousin.

Colonel Fitzwilliam looked at the sight of the two. Darcy realized too late how dishevelled he appeared from sleeping in his clothes, but knew not what his cousin would make of any of the oddness he encountered. Except for the absence of the hated neck cloth, Eli was completely dressed – including her Hessians – and looked quite respectable. In the last seconds, she seemed to have composed herself and her voice was calm and noticeably deep when she said, "Let us leave Colonel Fitzwilliam to occupy this room alone, and we can continue our conversation in my room." She turned toward Richard. "Tomorrow, I must face my father, Colonel." A husky laugh preceded her next observation. "Being a hero should help to win his forgiveness, but I need Fitz's advice with some of the finer details of how to manage his censure." She looked solemnly at Darcy and said, "I should have thought of rooming with you when you were settling the details with the innkeeper. Because I am not such a great tall fellow like you and your cousin, I take up much less space when sharing a bed."

Darcy had to remember to breathe, but his quick mind also immediately understood the importance she put on her need to speak with him. "Richard, in order to allow you to retire quickly, I will leave my things here and return in the morning to dress." His cousin seemed not the least suspicious and exhibited only exhaustion. He nodded his head in approval and began removing his clothes.

Neither spoke as they rapidly departed. Inside her room, she locked the door. Seeing her unslept in bed, he worried she would make herself ill, if she did not take care. They positioned themselves as before – he on the bed and she perched on the edge of a large wing chair.

"Eli, our being together this way is highly improper. After we talk, I will go downstairs and pass the rest of the night in the inn's common rooms. I have slept some and you apparently not at all."

"Fitz, you are without your boots and cravat... do you not think patrons will find it highly inappropriate if you appear in public in such a state? Besides, it is my disreputable behaviour that is the problem. Everything between us has been inappropriate since I came to your house in London." She reached out and took his hand. Her eyes captured his for a minute before he looked away.

The warmth of her natural voice washed over him and he momentarily closed his eyes to savour it. "You have proven to me you are a man above all others with regard your kindness and your honour. Once I have said my piece, you should get some sleep in the bed." She laughed softly. "I am small. I will curl up in this very inviting chair."

"I could not allow that. You need comfort and proper rest. Tomorrow you will meet Georgiana and my friend Dr. Wilder and his mother. He is the one who will help you find a place to stay in Ireland."

"Please, we must not waste the precious moments in each other's company arguing over where I should sleep or when I will return to Hertfordshire."

Darcy's look, indeed, became dour as he steeled himself for what he knew was coming. She was nervous, and he saw on the writing table that she had been penning a letter. He guessed the recipient would be her father, but he could not imagine what explanation she would give for her absence.

"This has been the most enjoyable few days... " Her smile was bittersweet as she added, "... and I plan to make the memories last a lifetime. Even our dispute last night had its pleasurable aspects in the intensity of our emotions."

She coughed nervously and stood up. "Marriage to a silly man will be more palatable when I reflect on my brief vacation from womanhood with you. As long as I pretend to listen to his pompous prose, Mr. Collins will never know my true thoughts. The wool I occasionally appear to be gathering will hide a secret world where Elisha Bartlett is a hero – the young man who captured Gentleman Jack. Elisha is the son his parents wanted, and he takes prodigious care of his mother and sisters. He was once the best friend of the great Fitzwilliam Darcy and was credited with helping that man find the perfect partner for life."

She had obviously 'composed' her speech and was trying to cut through the pain both were feeling with mirth. "Eli was much less intimidated by you than your other friend Charles Bingley. He would not brook any petulance by you in social situations. You always knew you would be forced to dance or face his considerable wrath."

Grasping to find something – find anything to cut through the fantasy she proffered, Darcy said, "Lady Clarissa has no desire to dance with me. She thinks me ungallant, because I left her to chase after you."

"You will win her back, if you put your mind to the task... once I am no longer a distraction."

She was totally ignoring that his feelings for her were different than those for Bingley. Why did she think he liked to fondle her rump? Had she forgotten their kiss? A surge of lust passed through him and his loins took precedent over his commons sense. "I would gladly marry you to protect you from a life with that ridiculous man."

He had risen and put his hands on her shoulders. Caught off guard, she looked toward the door as if hopeful of another interruption. Realizing there would be none, she asserted her impertinence like a shield. Eyebrow arched, she lashed out, "What, no declaration of ardent love? Or, do you offer because it's the gentlemanly thing to do?"

Her taunt left him speechless and he dropped his hands from her. As he questioned himself how to answer, it gave her time to address his marriage proposal rationally and coolly. "Your anger last night was proof that you know such a solution to be impossible. Your family would never allow you to waste yourself on someone with such lowly connections and nothing but a paltry dowry to compensate."

Her argument was the one he had been telling himself for a month, but the last laugh would be on her. He would show her what Fitzwilliam Darcy was made of. A man of his principles would never countenance withdrawing an offer of marriage to a lady – no matter how little thought had gone into the words. "Miss Bennet, you are a gentleman's daughter. We are equals."

Her temper was obviously starting to flare. "Fitz, pull yourself together, and think of the consequences of being married to me. Have you forgotten the public disgrace that would be Elizabeth Bennet? I am the worst role model for your sister. How would we explain my absence from home? Among your circle, I would always be the subject of lurid rumours as to what I was forced to do to please my abductors."

"I would know you were not violated."

Her anger seemed to mellow into a disbelieving mirth. She said with a laugh, "So my pristine status as a maiden is what makes me worthy in your eyes – that and my father's poorly managed entailed estate – you are not thinking clearly. When has a woman's reputation ever had anything to do with truth or justice? Your set would never rest until you were thoroughly humiliated in your choice of wife. Any affection you feel for me now would soon turn to disgust as you fought off the slings and arrows of the ton's outrageous gossip. Let us at least preserve the fond memories we will have of our brief friendship."

He did not think she was humorous in the least. Eli thought she knew everything of the world, and she knew nothing. Her grand scheme was to exist by creating a life quite separate from that of her husband. She probably had come upon the preposterous idea how to accommodate disappointment by observing her father. "So you imagine Collins will spend his days catering to Lady Catherine's whims and writing his pompous sermons, while you lose yourself in novels, romantic poetry, long walks in the lanes of Rosings and nonsensical memories of being a hero and my best friend. I suppose, later, you plan to occupy yourself with ensuring your children do not become stupid like their father?"

Her face looked a bit like she had smelled something unpleasant, but her words were defiant. "Perhaps, but you need not dismiss my plan with angry contempt, as if I do not know what I am about. This is more reasonable than...." Her voice caught dangerously, but she quickly drew a breath and said calmly, "than lingering on a course that leads only to ruin for both of us."

He was moving beyond anger into desperation. Knowing Eli's gift for survival and masquerade – she might wrinkle her nose in distaste now – but in time she would learn to use her considerable charms to keep the ridiculous man in line and achieve most of what she wanted.

He shuddered at his thoughts and moved on to another situation she had probably not considered. What she could not now fathom – and Darcy knew only too well – was that those traits he loved most about her would be her undoing. Though she and her father shared a keen intelligence, she was far from passive like Mr. Bennet – content to watch life go by with the occasional witty insight. She was a woman of action and shared her mother's need to speak and act when more timid souls would hold back. Only today, Eli had coshed a highwayman – defending the honour of a much taller lady. But, she had definitely never met anyone like his aunt. "Eli, your delightful wit and impertinence will be stamped out by my aunt's need to shape all within her domain. Between Lady Catherine's constant demands and her toady's lack of sense, you will be crushed."

Anxiety was threatening to overwhelm him. Scenarios of her life of horror began swirling in his imagination. Would his dearly beloved become like some of the married women of his circle? The ones whose families had demanded they choose titles, connections and money over admiration, respect and shared interest. Men could take a mistress and enjoy an unrestricted life going about where they pleased with friends. But women, once trapped in loveless marriages, they had few options. An image of his aunt, Richard's mother, came to mind. Women were much more susceptible to dosing with laudanum to dull the pain of their pinched existence. What began as an occasional aid to get through the day, over time became necessary to survive the disappointment. He imagined being forced to see Eli at Rosings and to smell the tell-tale scent on her breath. His heart was pounding and his mouth felt dry with fear. Then he forced himself back to reality. This nightmare was now highly unlikely – if his festive message sent the previous morning to Lady Catherine had the desired effect.

He was very glad now that he had sent the letter because, obviously, Eli needed to be protected from herself. With something of the air of a victor claiming his prize, Darcy stood and pulled her out of the chair and into an embrace. She barely reached his shoulders, and his comforting kisses found the top of her head. "I visit my aunt every Easter; I would not be able to bear seeing my best friend trampled by her tyranny," he whispered gently.

They stood that way for a long time – neither saying anything. Her cheek was against his chest. He wondered whether the beats of his heart were convincing her of his sincerity.

Finally she said, "I think you underestimate my fortitude and my skill with disguise. Besides you only speak of the failure of my plan – what of your ability to withstand society's criticism?"

It was his turn to be silent. How could he convince her he was up to the challenge? Nothing about their relationship spoke of his strength of character. By now she must suspect he had fled Hertfordshire – and taken his friend with him – for fear of being captured by a pair of mercenary sisters. The prudent path would have been to persuade her to allow him to escort her to her uncle's house in Cheapside. Given his affection for his niece, Mr. Gardiner would have been able to find a quick and quiet solution for her impetuous behaviour. Instead, Darcy had enabled her to dig an even deeper hole. His motive was the same as now; he wanted to prevent her from becoming Mr. Collins' wife.

Most abominable, he had never offered marriage as a solution until now – despite his strong feelings for her. Only the night before, he had accused her of manipulating him into proposing and acting against his family's expectations. Suddenly, he looked upon his behaviour with abhorrence, and the emotion ripped a declaration from him – perhaps as much a revelation to himself as to her. "I love you."

"And I love you." He heard with surprise and gratitude. But there was more, and he drank in her words. "I believe it may even be the violent type written about in novels... if my inability to regulate my emotions around you means anything." She pulled out of his embrace and sat back down in the chair. "But affection is not the only consideration for happiness in marriage."

With a sigh he returned to the edge of the bed. "Perhaps not, but knowing your husband is ridiculous does not bode well for felicity either."

"So you would marry me to save me from myself – excuse me, to save me from Mr. Collins? If that is your concern, then why not promise to find me a better suitor of your own selection? Perhaps your cousin or your friend Dr. Wilder will do."

He met this suggestion with a look that could only be characterized as horror. He decided to try a different strategy for making her change her mind. His voice took on a pleading quality as he said, "Bingley has returned to Hertfordshire, and I am quite sure he hopes to marry your sister. He is an honourable man and will ensure your mother and sisters are not without resources upon your father's demise. Your parents will undoubtedly forgive you, if you return a few months after Charles and Miss Bennet are wed."

"I hope your information about Bingley's intentions is true. If so, perhaps, I will see you at my sister and your friend's wedding. But, we must agree to disagree about whether I would be happy wed to Lady Catherine's 'toady' as you call him... or whether I would be able to withstand your aunt's meddling and attempts to mould me to her will. I plan to honour Mr. Collins' proposal."

The dreaded uncontrollable anger that had been his foe throughout their journey together threatened to force him into a revelation he should probably have made earlier and in a less petty fashion. But, did she really think he would stand idly by and allow her to marry Collins? Could she not recognize he easily held the power to stop it?

She continued, "I have spent most of the evening writing a letter to my father. I am informing him of my return and begging his forgiveness for my disobedience. Most importantly, I am asking his aid in discreetly salvaging my reputation."

"And a letter from me is on its way to my aunt questioning the intentions of her parson to marry a young woman who was abducted. Collins will never marry you once she voices even a whiff of disapproval."

He was not prepared for what happened next. Anger was what he expected, and he steeled himself to defend his interference – as proof of his determination to remove all obstacles to his goal of winning her. She grew pale, and her eyes betrayed a pooling of tears. Her head turned against the wing of the chair, and she said nothing. Soon he heard quiet sobs and thought his heart would break. As he watched her, the irony of what had happened was not lost to even his thoughtless intelligence. He realized he had crushed her much as he had warned Eli his Aunt Catherine would do.

She cried what seemed to him too many painful minutes more. Witnessing his damage, he could think of nothing to do or say. Once spent, she kept her face averted and buried in the side of the chair. Finally she sat up and squared her shoulders in what he believed was some form of resolve. Oddly enough, he hoped acceptance of his proposal was not what she had decided. At this moment he was acutely aware, he did not deserve her.

She stood and walked to where she had penned the letter to her father. There was no anger in her gesture as she tore it to pieces, just a calm sort of determination. She removed her boots, jacket and waistcoat and hung them on hooks provided for that purpose. The shirt she wore was pulled from the waistband of her breeches. Next, she moved the smaller chair at the writing table and positioned it in front of the large upholstered one. While pouring water into the bowl on the dresser, she stared at herself in the glass to assess the damage her tears had left. After bathing her face, she gave herself one last look, before she made her way back to her makeshift bed.

"Earlier you said, I am to meet your friend tomorrow. You mentioned he lives with his mother. Will I meet her as well?"

"Yes, I arranged for Mrs. Wilder and Dr. Wilder to be at Pemberley – Georgiana thinks he and his mother are there to plan a performance for the Earl of Blessing's Twelfth Night ball. The three often perform together." He saw her stiffen slightly with his admission he had deceived his sister.

"Is it a musical performance?"

"Yes"

"Is the ball a masque?"

"I believe so."

"Your interference has solved a dilemma for me."

He looked hopeful, but she refused to even meet his eyes. Instead she remained focused on a landscape depicting High Tor on the opposite wall.

"Lady Clarissa asked me to attend the ball. She wants me to be the guest of honour and present me to her family and friends. I was planning to tell her I would not be available tomorrow." Her eyes left the painting and began inspecting her hands. There was a slight catch in her voice as she continued. "Now that I am denied the opportunity to save my mother and sisters, my father has no good reason to forgive me. In fact I believe my original 'ill-conceived' plan of never returning home becomes my only alternative. That way my sisters' prospects will not be ruined by any hint of my disgraceful behaviour."

She appeared thoughtful for a few seconds and then laughed softly. "In the end they might decide that I was, indeed, abducted by highwaymen – perhaps, they will believe it was Gentleman Jack's gang that took me – before he moved north to pull his robberies and was captured. What became of me after I was no longer wanted by the highwaymen – will remain a mystery – I suppose." Her final statement wiped the mirth from Eli's face and seemed to leave her saddened. Darcy wondered whether she feared for the pain her family might be feeling at the loss of her.

"I hope your friend will find a position for me soon, and Ireland will become my home. It is unlikely though that I will be settled before Twelfth Night, so I should be at liberty to attend the Earl of Blessing's Feast of Fools."

He thought of something that might raise her spirits. "But once Bingley and your sister are married... "

She cut him off – her voice flat – there was neither rancour nor sweetness as she delivered her barb. "Yes, so you say. Is Bingley's proposal to my sister another example of your meddling? Perhaps he is sincere, but how can you be so certain you know what my sister will do?"

Darcy remained silent. His best plan, at the moment, was to win her over to the possibility of a happy marriage with him during their time together at Pemberley. He hoped once she saw his estate she would fall in love with the house and grounds and never want to leave.

Finally, she looked him in the eye. "You seem confident Dr. Wilder will protect my secret, and I hope that extends to his mother. That should suit my needs. I plan to ask his permission to stay with him and Mrs. Wilder until I am to depart for Ireland. She lifted the shirt just enough so he could see the strips of cloth binding her bosom. I have grown tired of this masquerade. It is time I stopped pretending to be something I am not and returned to my natural state. The Wilder's home will afford me that womanly prerogative. Of course, the Earl of Blessing's Twelfth Night masque will mean I must don my manly costume one last time. What more fitting end for Elisha Bartlett than to make his last appearance on the night of the year when the world, as we know it, is turned upside down."

She climbed into the bed she had fashioned from the two chairs. "Fitz, you are always quite assured you know what is best for others. Our separation will allow you to see just how nonsensical your notion of finding wedded bliss with me is. Both of us are losing our ability to act reasonably." She looked at him with a very sad smile. "Pray we make it through the night."

He handed her a blanket and a pillow. "My behaviour has been dishonourable enough for a lifetime today. I am confident we would be happy, but if I am ever to persuade you to marry me, you must think me worthy."

She sighed as she pulled the blanket up to her chin. "I am the one who is not worthy, and I refuse to ruin your life. I fear I may already be guilty of causing irreparable anguish for Jane and my father."

With a shrug of his shoulders he said, "You are correct. We must agree to disagree." What he did not say was that he intended to prove his case – even if it took the rest of his life.

He lay on his side, with his head propped up and watched until her breathing indicated she had fallen asleep. He knew he should apologize for his interference, but she seemed unable to fathom his need to make her his. His resolve was new and he had only set upon it this evening, looking into her face and realizing he could not let her become another man's wife. Would she eventually come to see it as he had? Suddenly, words seemed useless – action was what was needed – but what would win a woman of such intelligence, substance and heroism as his Elizabeth?

Chapter 9 – Shall the Truth Set Darcy Free?

Posted on: 2010-05-04

Darcy and Elizabeth approached their destination as he had imagined when they had started their journey – alone. Though she was still dressed convincingly as his young male friend, he now preferred to think of her as the woman he planned to marry. That morning three days ago as they rode out on Rocinante and Rucio from London toward Derbyshire – though he would not have been able to consciously admit it – he had looked forward to watching her experience Pemberley's beauty for the first time. He was proud of his estate, and never had he wanted to show it to someone as eagerly as he wanted to show it to – Eli.

Lady Clarissa was now in the care of Lord Colton, who had rendezvoused with the party at the inn. The brother and sister had headed to their family estate several miles earlier. As Darcy had hoped, the colonel joined them on the road to Blessing.

Darcy chuckled, looking at Eli and thinking what the earl's son and heir might say if he knew the truth about his sister's saviour. The escort Darcy expected in response to the express sent to the Earl of Blessing, Jonathon Holmes, the Viscount Colton, had arrived shortly after dawn at the Sheltering Chestnut. Lord Colton and Darcy had greeted each other as the old friends they were from Eton and Oxford.

As the two men waited for the others to make their way downstairs, Lord Colton had asked numerous questions about the brash young man who took such risks on his sister's behalf. Darcy had enjoyed the time telling Lord Colton of Eli, and had lovingly savoured the morsels of truth he sprinkled among the necessary fiction.

"He is small but mighty," Darcy said, "as he will no doubt tell you himself. In my estimation, he is a good fellow – the very best – perhaps, more confident than his appearance would sometimes suggest he should be. Eli believes he can do anything." Darcy shook his head in exasperation mixed with pride.

"Well, appearances aside, circumstances would seem to have been on his side in this case," replied an unusually serious Lord Colton. Lord Colton was known as a mirthful giant of a man – celebrated among the ton for both his size and love of laughter. But Trinity College's finest pugilist had been sombre as he listened to the particulars of the attack and balled his hands into fists with what Darcy had assumed was a desire to pummel the highwayman when he heard of his sister's abduction. His manner had remained alternately furious and vindictive as the details of the pursuit and capture of the bandits was recounted – that is, until he was told of the daring young Elisha Bartlett who had freed Lady Clarissa, and then determined to finish the task by chasing after Gentleman Jack. The details of the bandit's coshing brought the first smile to Lord Colton's face. As Darcy had shown his even larger friend – using his hand to mark precisely the spot she... he... the diminutive Eli reached on his body, the viscount had shattered the early morning quiet with guffaws of colossal proportions.

Eli was his customary buoyant self as he met the brother of the woman who called him her hero. The nobleman and the rescuer rode together as they started out on the trip, and they had talked and laughed for most of the way. If Darcy had not heard her declaration of violent love the night before, he might have been moved to jealousy. But most of his mind was painfully taken up with the fear that she would never declare herself his despite the feelings she admitted.

Colonel Fitzwilliam, whose father's estate, Elderton, was in the same direction, said farewell also, when the group parted ways at the fork in the road leading to Blessing. Darcy assumed that spending as much time as possible in the company of the lovely and excessively eligible earl's daughter was a major motive for Richard as well. Darcy felt no pings of betrayal that his cousin seemed intent on poaching a woman who was intended for him. All's fair in love and war, and Colonel Fitzwilliam was no stranger to either. Besides, Darcy knew that if Richard thought for a moment that Darcy was even vaguely interested in Lady Clarissa, he would have backed off – but seeing no such signs, he had surged forward to seize the initiative.

Richard could hardly know how well leaving him alone with Eli fit into Darcy's plans. But alone with Darcy for the first time since the two had spent a chaste night together, sleeping in the same room but in separate beds, Eli retreated from the lively manner she showed Lord Colton and dropped back into silence.

Darcy hoped Elizabeth was contemplating with regret the thought of being separated from him. Now they were but a mile from the lodge, and Darcy's heart began to pound in anticipation. A sense of urgency that was difficult to describe possessed him. It was far from simple wanting to please her, but in its place was the desire she would be enchanted by the woods, the park and the house – all the splendour that was his ancestral home.

Many women had wanted to be mistress of Pemberley. The nightmare that plagued him for the last several years – since turbans with plumes had become the fashion – flew into his consciousness. Grasping ladies with bird-of-prey faces searched a ballroom for a pigeon that looked like him. The helpless bird would cling to the sides of the room to avoid being drawn into a desperate dance with a predator – twisting and turning in the air to free himself from the clutches of their bejewelled talons. The caw of flattery was often heard but honesty such as Eli's – never. None of the ladies of his circle had ever seemed remotely interested in being his companion, friend or confidante.

Her accusation of his knowing what was best for others without consulting them weighed heavily on his conscience, but he was certain that a life with him was not only what her heart preferred, but what she needed. Somewhere underneath her masquerade he wished a sliver of the presumed mercenary girl he had thought he first encountered in Hertfordshire would emerge and fall in love with his estate.

Much of the night had been spent devising and rejecting ways to win her. At his most desperate, he considered waking her and begging her on his knees. Her soft and generous heart might have prompted her to agree, but the blow to his manhood in the eyes of a woman who had bludgeoned a highwayman might not be something either of them could forget. The passion they had shared might be difficult for her to rekindle with the image of him prostrate before her – much like Gentleman Jack. He decided instead that whatever actions he took must be bold and prove he matched her in fearlessness. After all, her objection was that he would not be able to withstand the disapproval of his family and his circle.

Respecting Eli's apparent desire for time to reflect, Darcy restrained himself from describing the scene unfolding before them. He saw out of the corner of his eye that her spirits seemed lifted by the sights, and he was pleased to see a small smile crack her sombre countenance. The prospect sent him into what she described her mother often experiencing – a high flutter. He had directed them to the path that entered at one of the park's lowest points, and they rode for some time through a beautiful wood.

With pleasure he watched her face reflect admiration for his favourite highlights. They gradually ascended for half a mile and found themselves at the top of a considerable eminence. The wood ceased, and he watched as her eye was instantly captured by Pemberley House, situated on the opposite side of a valley. He knew the prospect was pleasing to all who viewed it for the first time – and even after more than twenty years the sight still took his breath away. The house was a large, handsome stone building, standing well on rising ground, and backed by a ridge of high woody hills. In front a stream of some natural importance swelled and emptied into a lake – totally without any artificial appearance. Its banks were neither formal nor falsely adorned.

Elizabeth finally broke her silence with an observation that matched his own feeling and flattered him as much as a compliment about his person would have. "I have never seen a place for which nature has done more, or where natural beauty has been so little counteracted by an awkward taste." Her eyes darted toward him when he did not respond. Instead he presented her with a look of honest, heart-felt pleasure punctuated by a full set of dimples. Her small cautious smile grew to become the lopsided grin he had been hoping to see.

They descended the hill, crossed the bridge, and rode to the door. The apprehensions of what would happen crept back over them both like a cloud. He dreaded her leaving him but knew it was what he must accept if he was to persuade her of his honesty and constancy. Still, he must ask her one question before they entered the house. "Would you like to bathe and change your clothes before you meet my sister, Dr. Wilder and his mother?"

She looked confused as to what she should reply. He remembered her fears of exposure and said, "Even before we left London, I had planned to tell my housekeeper your secret. I sent an express – telling her only to prepare a room for a guest with special needs. Mrs. Reynolds has been with my family since I was a child and is known for her discretion. Her loyalty is to me and my sister – and no others."

They dismounted before the entrance and men arrived to take their horses to the stables. She seemed to be weighing her answer as she stroked Rucio's neck in parting. "Yes, I believe I would like to be more presentable when I meet your sister and friends." Her next question explained her hesitation. "Do you plan to reveal my true identity to Miss Darcy?"

Until Eli asked he had not thought of doing so, but things seemed to fall into place with her query. Georgiana harboured some animosity toward him, but he did not believe she wished him to be unhappy. The understanding that she had found him too rigid and proper to acknowledge her desire to be loved came crashing through a barricade in his mind. Before now, he could only fathom the shame she felt and to some extent her mortification at being deceived by Wickham. Eli had told him he needed to listen to his sister – not arrogantly assume he knew the whole truth. Suddenly he wanted his sister to know how much he loved Elizabeth, and he hoped she would become an ally in his pursuit. He answered her cautiously, "I believe I would like your permission to tell her the facts of our acquaintance. Not today, but soon. Perhaps she could visit you at the Wilder's when you have reverted to your natural state."

Darcy had left the others enjoying refreshments and stories of Elisha's escapades to escape to his study. He needed time alone to think and prepare. Today would not be for catching up so much as estimating the magnitude of the tasks ahead. Jamie was to join him soon. He would need to choose the best words to tell his friend the entirety of the mess he had created in order to gain his support. He had briefly explained the predicament to Mrs. Reynolds, and she had graciously helped Elizabeth prepare for her meeting with Georgiana and the Wilders. Both he and Eli had bathed and changed clothes before they joined the others for a late afternoon tea.

He had waited until he was certain the 'young man' was comfortable with his new friends before leaving. Eli had followed him with her eyes as he departed but did not seem frightened by the prospect of being on her own without him. As expected, all three and Mrs. Annesley were intrigued, and Georgiana had even whispered to him she had never met a young man as charming and brave.

Darcy was surprised when Mrs. Reynolds knocked. She entered carrying two gowns and a pair of slippers. She said, "Miss Georgiana has had a growth spurt since the summer. These frocks are now much too short for her. She has recently had several new ones made. I think these will fit Miss Bennet as well as the shoes."

"Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds. I am certain she will appreciate your thoughtfulness. Did she tell you the details of why she resorted to her masquerade?"

"She did. I am unable to approve of her actions, but then you have hardly been above reproach, Master Fitzwilliam. It pains me to imagine what her family is going through believing she has been abducted... or worse."

It was the first time she had chastised him since before he left for Eton. He looked away and stared out the window in shame. She had immediately seen the larger picture and all who had been hurt by their actions. After a few seconds, he returned his gaze to the older woman and spoke. "Indeed, we both acted impulsively and quite inappropriately. When she came to ask for my help to sail to Canada – I knew immediately I could not allow her to go on such a dangerous journey. But, I also understood her repugnance against the marriage her father demanded." A man unused to explaining his actions, especially to even such respected domestics as Mrs. Reynolds, he forced himself to continue. "To fully appreciate why I did what I did, you would probably have to meet Mr. Collins."

He did not disclose the base nature of his motives but since Mrs. Reynolds knew his aunt, he added, "Mr. Collins is Lady Catherine's parson. As Collins' wife, Miss Elizabeth would have been forced to spend her days accommodating my aunt."

A smile flickered across his housekeeper's wrinkled face. "Oh, that does explain a great deal." Darcy listened as she tiptoed across the line separating servant from master, a line he had already blurred. She confessed at first hesitantly, but her voice soon found its strength, "I am... hmmm... doubtful I could have remained as Pemberley's housekeeper had Lady Anne been like her sister."

He was surprised by her candour and debated whether he should confide the nature of his true feelings for Elizabeth. As he saw nothing but sympathy in her face, he wished he had consulted her at the time of his sister's near elopement. He and Richard had decided the best course to keep gossip at a minimum was to tell no one of the Ramsgate incident – that included Mrs. Reynolds. She knew something had happened when Mrs. Younge did not return with them, but he had not disclosed Wickham's treachery or Georgiana's poor judgement. Darcy sighed, as he realized it had been shame and fear that kept him from telling this woman, who had been like a mother to him, of his sister's impetuous act. Even without the details, she had been the one who suggested they redo Lady Anne's favourite sitting room for Georgiana when she observed how withdrawn the young woman she served had become. She seemed to instinctually know she needed to be reassured that she was loved. Darcy said, "I bought Miss Darcy a dappled grey mare for Christmas."

"You are a good brother, and I am certain your sister will enjoy riding out with you."

"Eli... Miss Elizabeth rode the horse to Pemberley. I used that as an excuse to persuade her to come with me to Derbyshire. She had wanted to return home to Hertfordshire our first day on the road... and ask her father to forgive her."

Darcy saw a flicker of disapproval in the old woman's eyes. "Why did you not allow her?"

She deserved the truth. "I love her."

Mrs. Reynolds looked thoughtful, as she uncharacteristically disclosed her private thoughts on the matter. "I assumed as much, and I believe she feels the same." Just as Darcy was about to ask what Eli had said to give that impression, she said abruptly, "Did you hmm ... take ... have you been with her, sir?"

Although the question was delicately put, he was still shocked that she could think such a thing of him. "No, absolutely not... I would never do that to her or any woman."

Mrs. Reynolds smiled gently and said, "I know you are a good man, Mr. Darcy; but even the best of men sometimes act based on emotion... choices are made they may come to regret. Miss Elizabeth seemed somewhat despondent, and she had many questions about you."

As it dawned on him what she had last said, he was able to calm himself in the wake of her blunt query. He wanted to pause and ask his housekeeper all about Eli's curiosity. Despite her sadness, it seemed an encouraging sign. But, he reminded himself that now was the time to be honest with Mrs. Reynolds. "I made several poor choices. I should have offered for her and returned with her to Hertfordshire, immediately. At the time, I was not confident about many things – including her feelings for me. It pains me to admit I was a very selfish being – my only thought was of keeping her from marrying another man. I wanted her for myself." There he had said it – truth was not so very difficult. "Preserving her reputation was the farthest thing from my mind. Yesterday, I proposed... very poorly, I might add, but she refused. She believes I will regret marrying someone who is both beneath me in status and who has acted disgracefully. The talk we would have to endure frightens her, and she believes I am not strong enough to withstand such gossip."

Mrs. Reynolds clucked her tongue sympathetically and when she spoke again, she seemed to be attempting to give him confidence in his mission of winning a bride. Though her time with Elizabeth had been brief, she had already selected her candidate for the next Mistress of Pemberley. Drawing herself very erect and with a sly smile, she signalled her intention to make an important statement. "I told Miss Bennet I had never had a cross word from you in my life, and I have known you ever since you were four years old. She seemed to listen most closely when I observed that they who are good-natured when children, are good-natured when they grow up."

Darcy appreciated the rare openness with which his housekeeper was speaking, and he was surprised at her sentiments as she continued, "I told her you were always the sweetest-tempered, most generous-hearted boy in the world. The young woman you hope to win nodded her head in agreement; when I told her she could go through the world and not meet a better man."

Stifling a chuckle, Darcy said, "Knowing her quick wit, she probably asked if I require you to say such things about me."

Mrs Reynolds shook her head. "No, indeed. Rather, it appeared I brought tears to her eyes, which she quickly turned her head to hide. I say no more than the truth, and what everybody says that knows you. Your father was an excellent man, and I told her you are just like him. Master Fitzwilliam, you are thought to be a good man not due to your grandfather the earl or your great-grandfather the duke, but because you are the best landlord and the best master. There is not one of your tenants or servants but what will give you a good name. You are affable to the poor, and all of Derbyshire admires you."

Fitzwilliam Darcy did something totally out of character – or at least not as he had done in years – perhaps, not since he was that sweet-tempered child. He hugged Mrs. Reynolds and thanked her for her support.

As she was leaving, he remembered one more item Eli could use. "Do you think you might be able to find a pair of women's walking boots that would fit Miss Elizabeth? She loves to take long walks, and I believe she would look odd in a frock with Hessians."

The two broke into laughter imagining the sight.

Darcy was feeling heartened by the prospect of gaining allies in his battle to win Elizabeth. Speaking with Jamie seemed much less daunting after his conversation with Mrs. Reynolds. He also savoured the thought of a moment alone with Eli before she left with the Wilders. He asked his housekeeper to see if she could hurry Dr. Wilder to join him.

The relationship with his physician had often resulted in honest talk. Secrets had been revealed on both sides. Darcy was the only one of Jamie's patients who knew why the Wilders had left Ireland. The description of finding his father's rotting corpse dangling from a gibbet had left Darcy wondering how he could have withstood such horror. Jamie's father had been hanged for participating in the rebellion in 1798. This knowledge had been shared with none outside his family but Darcy. At seventeen, he took great risk to cut down his father's remains. His action was not only that of an outraged son, but as a partisan he triumphed in an action that subverted the Yeomanry who would leave executed rebels hanging to intimidate the populace – and he delivered this admission with a defiance that Darcy had never before seen in the gentle physician.

Jamie could have lived with his father having the same fate as his comrades, but Mrs. Wilder could not bear that her husband did not rest in the land he loved. Rumours of gang rape to punish women in County Wexford with ties to the uprising had frightened Jamie, and he begged his mother to leave a home no longer safe for her. They buried Mr. Wilder in the middle of the night at the family's estate and fled to Derbyshire.

There was always an air of sadness about Mrs. Wilder, and Jamie had told him of the agony his mother had felt at leaving behind her daughters and her grandchildren. The Wilders had been wealthy estate owners and moved in the circles of the elite of the Protestant Ascendancy for more than a century. The rebellion of the United Irishman had divided families – those who aspired to free their country from British rule and become a republic were at odds with those who enjoyed the privileges the ties with England afforded their class. Jamie's sisters had married very well and found themselves on the other side of barricades from their father and brother. Darcy reflected on how helpful Mrs. Wilder had been with bringing Georgiana out of her darkest despair. It was more than a shared love of music that bound the two. The motherless daughter had been embraced by the daughterless mother.

Richard did not know, nor would he approve that Darcy had confessed what happened with Georgiana and Wickham to Jamie. Prior to his sister's despondency after Ramsgate, his feelings would have been much like his cousin's – horrified that such information be discussed outside the family. But Darcy recalled the infinite care with which Jamie worked to ease the pain of Darcy's dying father, and the help he had given him in preparing his children for his demise – particularly the young daughter who would go through life with no memories of her mother and only a few childish memories of her father.

It was the knowledge of the confidence his father had placed in the young physician that made Darcy turn to him again when he needed counsel to understand Georgiana's melancholy after her unfortunate disappointment with Wickham. Darcy did not regret for a moment his turning to Jamie in a moment of crisis. His practiced observations of humans in pain had helped him understand the ache Georgiana's self-recrimination at being fooled by an unworthy man. Most importantly, the doctor had pointed out evidence of some residual resentment she felt toward her brother for his harsh condemnation of her poor judgement. Finally, Jamie had helped Darcy accept that his sister needed to leave behind her bitterness and become interested in the future. Indeed, thanks to Dr. Wilder's service to his sister and his father, Darcy respected no man more and saw him as one of the wisest of his acquaintance – despite the appearance of being beneath Darcy socially.

It struck Darcy that knowing Jamie was probably a fissure he had not noticed at the time, but it had allowed his heart to be open to Elizabeth's merit despite her inferior connections. Inferior – he laughed at the thought and Elizabeth looked to see the cause of his amusement – he knew no two people more worthy than Elizabeth and Jamie.

Arriving at Pemberley, Darcy found a much improved Georgiana – and he gave much of the credit to Dr. Wilder and his mother. Georgiana excitedly told her brother of the performance she and the Wilders were planning for the Earl of Blessing's ball. Instead of the sullen girl she had been when they parted in London, Georgiana was enthusiastic about reuniting with her brother – and her eagerness for meeting his friend, Elisha, had been genuine. During tea Georgiana listened to the young hero's daring deeds and exhibited only exuberance – without a hint of shyness in questioning him. Watching them Darcy was unsure whether the ease between the two was due to Georgiana's change for the better or Elizabeth's natural grace in social situations.

Though Dr. Wilder no longer professed his life's goal to be establishing a republic in Ireland, the residual anger Darcy witnessed – in private during unguarded times – seemed to indicate it was still part of his hopes and dreams. The public James Wilder was passionate about building a hospital in Derbyshire to treat – not just the elite – but the entire population.

When Jamie entered Darcy's office, he, too, seemed more buoyant than usual. Darcy wondered if Eli's tales had been the elixir for him as well as Georgiana. At that thought, he felt a stab of jealousy. Would Dr. Wilder fall for the female version of Elisha Bartlett once they were living in the same house? The doctor's first words did not reassure him.

"Darcy, where did you find her? She has my mother, Mrs. Annesley and your sister mesmerized with her tales of saving Lady Clarissa and rendering Gentleman Jack unconscious. None of the three suspects she is a woman."

"You know?"

Jamie assumed a faux arrogant demeanour as he replied. "Darcy, I am a trained physician; it is not that difficult to tell the sexes apart. She is either a young man with a very rare condition, or she is a woman." He paused and said almost half to himself. "Makes a handsome young boy, but I suspect she is prettier as a lady."

Darcy gripped the armrests on his chair and reminded himself he needed Jamie's help. Ignoring his friend's observation about her beauty, he forced a laugh in reaction to Jamie's immediate recognition of her as a woman. "We should have known better than try to fool you – and of course, I was going to tell you anyway. Did she treat you to the story of why he was booted from school?"

"She did. Except she could not help blushing as she realized she was telling a slightly bawdy story to your sister in the presence of her companion. She seemed to cover over her reaction with some boyish combination of blasι and brash, but there was just the most delicate hint of colour in his cheeks – and a lowering of his eyes for a second. It made me look more closely."

"She fooled Richard. He thinks she might be my natural son."

Jamie's laughter was probably heard in the next county. When he finally got his mirth under control, he said, "I should not say something so hostile about the British army now that I am living in England – but Colonel Fitzwilliam's obtuseness gives me hope for the future of Ireland."

His mention of Ireland unpleasantly reminded Darcy of her expectation to make that country her home. He stood and walked to the window to prepare his mind for the seriousness of the subject. Before he had time to reach his destination – much less broach the prickly topic, Jamie observed, "I was delayed in my judgement of her gender when I saw how much she ate. Three pieces of cake is much more the habit of a young man of seventeen or eighteen than a young woman."

Darcy's mind drifted to one of his favourite parts of her anatomy. Even in the midst of trying to right a serious situation, he was seized by lust. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself, and when he spoke his tone reflected only concern for her welfare. But, from the look on Jamie's face and his glance at Darcy's groin, none of this was missed by him. The physician, was, after all, very knowledgeable of the workings of the human body.

Darcy contritely explained, "I have done things that have caused Elizabeth to be despondent, in opposition to her true nature, and that may be a reason for her loss of appetite. Also, she mentioned she was afraid she would split her borrowed breeches and has not been eating properly. Hopefully, her hunger indicates she is looking forward to discarding her disguise, and I pray she is moving toward forgiving me."

"Elizabeth – that is her real name, I take it – you say she is sad? She did not seem so just now."

"Her abilities as an actress are amazing, but in truth she misses her family. She ran away in desperation, but now knows she made a mistake. Her plan to return home and concede to her father's demand to marry a ridiculous man has now been made impossible by my meddling."

Darcy spent the next few minutes telling Jamie the particulars of her dilemma – he spoke of her father, his entailed estate, his lack of a son, his five daughters, his insistence that Elizabeth marry Mr. Collins, her mother's fear, and finally the details of her masquerade and pretend abduction.

Dr. Wilder did not press to know the details of Darcy's interference, but said somewhat sharply, "What do you expect me to do to help her?"

"I hope you will allow her to stay with you and your mother – she wishes to separate herself from me. I told her I would encourage you to grant her wish. In addition, I have promised you will help her find a position as a companion in Ireland."

Jamie gave him a questioning look. "Is that what you see as the solution for her?"

"No, but I do not want you to tell her of my wishes. For the time being, I would appreciate the pretence of pursuing the goal of finding a place for her with one of your friends." Darcy turned his most penetrating stare upon his friend and said, "I must be direct about this because although she does not wish my protection, she is exceedingly dear to me. Do you think you might be susceptible to falling in love with her?"

The smile showed in Jamie's eyes before it spread to his mouth. Darcy saw that his question had confirmed his friend's suspicions. "No, Darcy, you need not fear – I love another."

Darcy could not keep surprise from his expression. He wondered why he had never had a hint of Jamie's even seeing any young woman socially. "Oh, I was not aware you were courting someone."

"I would not expect you to. It is a very recent attachment and will not become public for a while longer. The lady is not ready for marriage. I concur with her wishes, but both of us have recently declared strong affection for each other. I ask for your discretion in keeping my secret, as I will keep yours."

His interest most sharply piqued, Darcy wished to know more. But another knock at the door brought Elizabeth in to meet with the two men.

"Gentlemen," she began, smiling jauntily. Darcy cut her off. "Dr. Wilder saw through your masquerade."

She turned to the physician with her eyes wide. He looked back at her seriously, as if displeased.

"But how?" she asked. Darcy had to admit he was enjoying seeing the usually cocksure attitude that was a part of Eli's persona, deflated. She looked from one man to the other, both of them with grim looks on their faces.

"I'm afraid, Elisha... or should I say Miss Elizabeth... " Jamie began slowly, "... well, truth be told, you really don't look like a boy."

"But I fooled all of them," Eli protested. She stopped, her mouth still open, as she finally seemed to realize she was on the receiving end of some good-natured teasing.

Jamie, shaking his head, said slyly, "You are very good, but much too pretty to fool me."

Darcy watched as she blushed in delight at Jamie's compliment. He was not certain whether he felt jealousy or delight that the woman he loved was glowing with the pleasure of being thought beautiful.

In the suddenly quiet room, Darcy said, "Jamie... Dr. Wilder... has agreed to your staying with him and his mother while he arranges a position for you in Ireland."

Elizabeth was still smiling, and Darcy saw a subtle transformation come over her. If Richard had by chance stepped into the room at just that moment, he would not have mistaken her for a boy. She said, "That is wonderful. I am looking forward to getting to know you and your mother better. She told me you live but a mile from Lambton. My favourite aunt has family in that town. She has often told me and my sister Jane wonderful stories of growing up there. I had no idea Pemberley was so near."

Darcy did not like the look that crossed Jamie's face, nor did he feel comfortable with the possibility that Elizabeth had ties in the area. Not expecting this, he was caught without a plan.

Jamie plunged ahead. "Miss Elizabeth, I do not know your surname. If we are to be living in the same house for some time, I suppose I should know how to address and introduce you."

"My name is Elizabeth Bennet. You and your mother may call me Lizzy."

"Who is your aunt? Perhaps, I know her."

Elizabeth seemed pleased to be speaking of her family. "Her name is Mrs. Edward Gardiner. She was Madeline Davies before she married my mother's brother."

Jamie's face became stormy with her revelation. Elizabeth seemed confused but did not push for an explanation. Darcy knew something did not set well with his friend after her disclosure. He said the only thing he could think of at the moment in order to be alone with Jamie. He tried to reassure her with a smile. "Eli, Mrs. Reynolds is putting together some clothes for you. I sent her to search for some women's boots. Perhaps, you should return upstairs and prepare to leave with the Wilders."

Despite his lame request, Elizabeth seemed to know something untoward had happened and complied with his request with no hesitation. She was changing back to a demure and proper young woman before his eyes.

As soon as Eli was gone, Jamie spoke. His manner was very grave. Darcy knew that in an instant, everything had just changed – and hearing Jamie's words he understood why his friend was suddenly glaring at him. "Madeline Gardiner is my cousin. She is the daughter of my mother's brother, Mr. Davies. You are acquainted with him. He buys wool from you, and you frequent both his haberdashers and his gun shop."

Jamie's demeanour softened a bit as he continued, "The woman you hold dear is now under my protection. My family's needs take precedence over yours. Tomorrow, I will speak with my uncle, and together we will devise a plan. Miss Bennet's reputation – and that of her sisters' – is of course very important. Be assured my uncle and I will act with the utmost discretion, but our priority must be informing her parents she is safe." He stopped glaring and spoke more gently. "Think, man, how you would have felt if you had not been in time to stop Georgiana from eloping. Imagine how the Earl of Blessing would be feeling today, if Elisha had not saved Lady Clarissa from abduction. You do understand why I must protect Elizabeth – forget any thought you might have had of her going to Ireland in some situation that you would devise?"

Darcy bit his lip. He had felt ashamed many times during the last few days but never more than this.

"Jamie, I love her. I would never harm her."

His friend did not reply, but the silence seemed to accuse him of already doing just that.

Elizabeth's leaving had been a blur of images – each one more confusing and ultimately unsettling than the last. The Wilders had left very quickly after the revelation of Elizabeth's connection. He had planned to show her his library before she left, but no time for that or a moment alone was allowed. Despite not knowing what exactly had happened, Eli put on a brave face. Darcy, who had grown accustomed to her expressions, recognized a hint of fear in her eyes. He tried to reassure her with frequent smiles. More than anything he wanted to squeeze her hand in encouragement, but such a gesture was impossible given the circumstances.

Darcy noticed that Georgiana seemed to realize something unpleasant had occurred between him and Dr. Wilder. Darcy felt a twinge of jealousy as his sister's eyes sought Jamie's eyes for an explanation instead of his. The doctor gave Georgiana a reassuring smile.

Mrs. Reynolds and Mrs. Wilder both appeared attune to the shift in mood among those gathered on the steps of Pemberley to say their goodbyes. The expected pleasantries were exchanged, but a darting of their eyes among the major participants was proof to Darcy of their awareness that some drama was playing out.

Darcy watched as Jamie took the bag the housekeeper had packed for their guest and stowed it inside the carriage. His next act showed how distracted he was with the situation: he helped both his mother and Eli into the carriage. Georgiana's eyes grew wide in confusion. Seconds later they were driving away – Elizabeth's face pressed against the glass. Darcy was uncertain whether to feel gratitude or agony as he realized that now Elizabeth's eyes were clearly filled with longing. In response his face reflected her yearning. His sister, apparently confused by Eli's gaze, turned her head in his direction to question its meaning. Her mouth dropped as she saw the look from the dashing young man answered in her brother's eyes.

After they were out of sight, Georgiana was forthright in her questioning.

"Brother," she said, her voice strong with a hint of demand for an answer. "Something happened between you and Dr. Wilder. What's wrong? Is it about Eli?"

Darcy was proud of her renewed spirit, but knew he could not address her questions presently. He smiled and put his arm on her shoulder and drew her to him. She let him do so but it was not the end of her questions. "And you and Eli – it almost looked as if…"

"My dear sister, I'm very weary. May we talk in the morning at breakfast? I promise a full accounting then."

"You will be honest? Not just put me off as if I am a child?"

"You are not a child," he conceded, but he added with a mischievous grin, "Although you will always be my beloved Poppet – even when you are old and grey."

In what he would have described as a classic Elizabeth-style impertinence, Georgiana replied quickly, "Well, you will be even older and greyer."

Then, more seriously, she reminded him that the following day was the Sunday before Christmas, and they were expected to be at the early morning service at Pemberley chapel. All of the tenants and staff would be present, and Georgiana and Mrs. Reynolds had spent the last few days preparing baskets of food and gifts to be distributed. He had uncharacteristically moaned when he realized such an important responsibility had slipped his mind.

Now he was back in his study, trying to make a list of all the things he needed to accomplish in the next several days. First and foremost, he must meet with Mr. Davies and Dr. Wilder. He had information about where the Gardiners were spending Christmas. Jamie would probably think he was meddling, but he also needed to inform them about Bingley's intentions toward Jane. He also hoped the two men would have some insight into how to persuade Elizabeth to accept his offer of marriage and take a chance on him. He wanted to make certain that Jamie grasped the depth of his feelings – he needed to make it clear his feelings were so much more than the physical desire the doctor had observed. His anxious search for the right thing to say and do to win Elizabeth was interrupted by the footman giving him a just-delivered note. Since it was almost midnight, his first thought was for Elizabeth's safety. A note sent at such an hour seemed ominous.

Darcy,

G.W.

Chapter 10 – Blackmail and Gossip and Tall Tales, Oh My!

Posted on: 2010-05-11

Darcy paced his office muttering quite loudly to himself. "Depend on that damn Wickham to stick out his deceitful serpent's tongue at the worst possible moment--he is the last thing I wish to deal with now –when I all I want to think about is how to win Elizabeth!"

After three more circuits and dozens of mumbled expletives, it dawned on him that within his problem lay the solution. Raising his voice happily, he said, "Let the bloody worm tell the world – most particularly Bow Street – where and when he saw me kissing the daring young man who captured Gentleman Jack!" Darcy chucked to think how well the speculation about his 'true nature' would work with the plan forming in his mind.

It was only a little more than twenty-four hours since the bandit gang had been locked up in the Derby gaol. If luck was with him, Mr. Fielding and his fellow Robin Redbreast, Grimsby, had not yet left to return to London. Harry had spoken of a possible fourth member of the band, and Eli had said that Jack called out to someone from the clearing. The Bow Street fellows and the Derby constabulary should be very curious about those details. Not to mention, what a lieutenant in the militia – whose detachment was stationed in Hertfordshire – was doing in Derbyshire in the vicinity of a highwayman's attempted abduction of the Earl of Blessing's daughter.

In a separate message for Harry's eyes only – Darcy requested a rendezvous at the Sheltering Chestnut early on Monday morning. Complete honesty was due the man from the Bow Street Patrol before they confronted the worm in his lair. It was time Mr. Fielding learned the hidden identity of his friend Elisha Bartlett. Darcy believed Harry would make an excellent ally, who could both verify for Elizabeth's father Darcy's sincerity as a suitor, and more importantly his protective treatment of the heroic young lady.

Darcy sat at his desk and imagined a scene he hoped to watch – Mr. Bennet paying rapt attention as Harry told him the tale of the day his daughter became a hero. Who better than a book lover like Elizabeth's father to be impressed by a descendant of Henry Fielding of Tom Jones fame speaking on behalf of Darcy's quest to wed his daughter? In addition, a man who enjoyed the diversion of whims and inconsistencies should delight in Harry's memories of Sir John Fielding – the blind beak – renowned for recognizing over three thousand criminals by their voices. But, the most entertaining story the Robin Redbreast could amuse and amaze Mr. Bennet with was the one chronicling his daughter's saving Lady Clarissa from abduction and capturing Gentleman Jack.

The plan taking shape was fuelled by Darcy's sudden insight that it was useless to hide Elisha's identity from Bow Street or England for that matter. Wickham's blackmail had been the catalyst, but the truth would out anyway. Once her family was informed, the papers should be encouraged to recount the derring-do of the young woman from Hertfordshire who had made travelling the roads and turnpikes of England so much safer – particularly for well-bred ladies. What a juicy story her tale would make. Flaunt her heroism, and the world should forget the improper circumstances surrounding her coshing a highwayman.

The only truth he did not want to reveal was that Elizabeth had run away in defiance. In her mind, that was her greatest sin, and she must be spared the humiliation of her father or the ton hearing rumours that the woman who had saved an earl's daughter from Gentleman Jack had acted like a rebellious child.

Darcy continued enhancing his plan as he made his way to bed. Georgiana needed to know most of the truth about why he was gazing so longingly at Elisha. Darcy chuckled at the irony of his predicament as he faced Georgiana at breakfast. Something had changed with his sister. She had come out of her doldrums with an air of confidence about her. Darcy fretted that the changes might not work to his advantage in this particular situation. Oh, for that sweet and obedient girl who would think whatever he told her – where had she gone? Would this Georgiana forgive him for his censure of her improper behaviour, once she learned he intended to wed a masquerading young woman who had travelled alone with him from London?

The Gardiners were a linchpin to his success – they were beloved by Elizabeth and based on Jamie's reaction – he must have strong affection for his cousin as well. Darcy shuddered in shame as he remembered indulging Caroline Bingley in her petty innuendos with regard the Bennet sisters' Cheapside relatives.

Mrs. Gardiner's father and cousin had to be convinced that an immediate alliance with the wealthy master of Pemberley would be the best solution to repair any damage to the Bennet sisters' reputation. Still, Darcy's motive must be perceived as more than just duty and honour. Winning over Elizabeth's family to the honesty of his intentions was crucial, but most importantly they must all grasp the depth and fearlessness of his love. That he would do and say anything necessary to win her should put him in good stead – he hoped.

Support from Dr. Wilder and the Gardiners would lend credence to the story he was developing to tell Mr. Bennet. Jamie must be persuaded to travel with him. Words of trustworthiness could be contained in a letter, but the influence of Mrs. Gardiner's cousin would work better in person.

Darcy interrupted his preparations for bed to make a note to send an express to Bingley alerting him to expect more guests. Darcy's tendency to worry about every detail drove him to hope that family responsibilities on the part of the physician and Mr. Fielding would not prohibit their accompanying him early on Tuesday – Christmas Eve. With hard riding and changing horses often, they should make it to Netherfield early on Boxing Day. His obligations would be distributed tomorrow morning at Pemberley Chapel thanks to Mrs. Reynolds and Georgiana.

His abhorrence of disguise notwithstanding, Darcy reconciled himself to the necessity of taking a few flights of fancy in the tale he told Mr. Bennet. He crawled into bed and lay there trying different explanations he would give the man, he hoped to call father. Then it hit him – the perfect solution – he would say he had abducted Elizabeth in an arrogant fit of pique. His resentment had been festering for days after her rejection to his proposal the evening of the Netherfield ball. When he heard of her betrothal to Mr. Collins, he had returned to Hertfordshire in a rage and snatched her up like a common highwayman. Darcy's abominable pride would make a believable reason for both her refusal and his rash actions.

Just as he was becoming drowsy, he imagined himself looking contrite as he admitted to her father he might have said it would be a degradation to marry her, but he would confide he had been propelled into offering by a love so strong he could not withstand its power. Her father's delight in observing human folly should enjoy that declaration.

Elizabeth's words of affection for him would be acknowledged, but he must be honest in expressing to her father that she feared he would tire of her in the wake of the gossip about her low connections among the ton.

Darcy's confession that it was fear of Bow Street finding out what he had done would be the explanation for his forcing her to masquerade as a young man. Bingley – he must not forget Bingley – and he must ensure his friend's honour! Mr. Bennet must know that though his other daughter's suitor had been the source of the information about Bow Street being called in – he had been ignorant of Darcy's dastardly actions.

As his eyelids became heavy and began to close, Fitzwilliam Darcy decided he should be able to make a good accounting of himself during his interview with her father – there being, after all, a great deal of truth in his tall tale.

Georgiana, dressed in a lovely deep green velvet gown he had never seen before, was waiting for him at breakfast. "Brother, you look terrible. Did you sleep at all last night?"

"My mind was filled with many things, and I was only able to get a few winks."

"I, too, had much to ponder. My intention had been to disclose some important news to you yesterday, but obviously the time was not right."

"You had news?"

"Yes, Fitzwilliam, I wanted to tell you of my feelings for Dr. Wilder – Jamie."

Darcy shook his head because he thought his own disturbed state of mind was resulting in his hearing incorrectly. "You have feelings for Jamie? Feelings?"

"Brother, you sound silly repeating everything I say. Please, just listen; and I will tell you all. It is not my aim to hide anything from you."

Darcy recalled Jamie's statement of loving someone. But could that possibly be. . . Darcy looked at the statuesque young woman before him who was eying him so levelly, with such an air of assurance.

"Jamie and I have recently become the best of friends. We have been speaking of our mutual enjoyment of music for years, but late last September – two weeks before you left for Hertfordshire, and I took up residence in London to spend time improving my playing – we began talking of other things. Philosophy became our favourite subject. Not the philosophy you and Jamie studied at Oxford, but a more personal variant expressing our hopes, dreams and even disappointments. It would often become the whispered subject when his mother and Mrs. Annesley were busy conversing with each other during our visits."

Darcy said nothing but stiffened at the thought of his friend encouraging such deception. Georgiana seemed to notice his disapproval, but appeared unperturbed. She continued gently, as if she understood he was struggling to take in the meaning of her words. "Please know that our behaviour was never improper before yesterday. Perhaps you have never experienced the feeling of your soul becoming enmeshed with another, but believe me the need to learn about that someone is very powerful."

Darcy's stern face softened, perhaps imperceptibly to his sister, who continued in the same gentle tone. "We spoke of the content of men's characters, and those things beyond surface appearance that make life meaningful. He told me of his father's death, and why he and his mother had been forced to flee Ireland. I told him of Wickham, and my revulsion that I had let myself be taken advantage of by such an unworthy man--to trust in his goodness where none existed. Jamie told me I should never feel ashamed of seeing the good in someone – and not to be afraid of making errors. He quoted Mr. Pope to me. "To err is human." Besides forgiving being divine – we decided it is also important to acknowledge one's mistakes and make changes if necessary."

Darcy's eyes grew misty as he looked at his little sister – not the little girl – but the woman who had taken her place. His smile seemed to encourage her. "Jamie knew I still resented your attitude, and he told me I should speak of it to you – he encouraged me to trust your love. But I was not yet ready, as you and Richard seemed mainly to care about my poor behaviour and fears for our family's reputation. Yes, you forgave me but seemed so disappointed in me. Besides, you were on your way to spend time with Charles, before I grew courageous enough to approach you."

For the first time Darcy spoke. "I have been told by another – who I admire greatly – that I should listen to your hopes and dreams."

"Jamie told me of his plan to someday build a hospital for all the people of Derbyshire. His ambition was an inspiration for me. A life with him would not be confined to the meaningless social scene that seems to be the life of so many of our set. I began to imagine myself playing a role in his mission – hosting dinners, musicales and balls to raise funds for his dream."

"But you described your relationship as a friendship. Do you not imagine yourself loving someone?"

"As of yesterday, I do." For the first time she looked a little hesitant about what she was about to reveal. "We were rehearsing the pieces we are performing for Lord Blessing's ball in the music room. Mrs. Wilder and Jamie prefer traditional music, and we had unanimously agreed to play Robert Burns' Green Grow the Rashes, O. The three of us had been singing the lyrics while Mrs. Wilder and I played. Jamie was sitting next to me turning the pages, and I looked over and saw a wonderful smile on his face. I was quite unsettled and felt my heart begin to flutter. He asked his mother to check with Mrs. Reynolds to find out about you. Mrs. Annesley had left the three of us to our practice earlier. I know being alone with me was wrong without your permission, but Jamie needed to tell me something very personal before you arrived."

Darcy became a little teary eyed as he realized what had happened to his little sister. She reached over and squeezed his hand. "Oh brother, his eyes were filled with such warmth, and something else I think might have been... dare I tell you... passion? Just as we got to the refrain 'the sweetest hours that e'er I spend, are spent among the lasses, O' – Jamie pulled my hands from the keys and kissed my wrists. He then changed the words ever so slightly and sang to me in his beautiful baritone, 'the sweetest hours that e'er I spend, are spent with Georgiana ,O.' You probably believe our actions were improper and silly, but I believe it will always be one of the most precious moments of my life."

Darcy shrugged. "I have heard worse declarations of affection."

Georgiana did not seem to grasp the oddity of his words. Her need to reassure her brother of something was obvious. "We both know I am much too young for marriage. I will not even officially be out for several more months, but brother, I beg you to let us continue our friendship."

Darcy hugged Georgiana. He was reminded once again as he held her that she had recently grown. Her head now came almost to his chin, while Elizabeth's only came to his shoulders. His mind wandered to the passion of the kiss he shared with Elizabeth, and he silently chuckled at the comparative innocence of Georgiana's confession. Perhaps, those detail should never be revealed – the way he squeezed Elizabeth's buttocks, the way she responded by tightening her legs around his waist and the way they pushed their tongues into each other's mouths – no definitely too much detail to share with his baby sister.

He said, "I will not object. Jamie is a great friend of mine, and he is a man of principles. Once he has declared his love, he is not a man who would dishonour his wife – as seems to be so much the fashion these days."

But Darcy decided to tell his sister the essential truth about him and Elizabeth rather than the carefully embellished story he would relay to Mr. Bennet. He began by relating to Geogiana his insult at the assembly where he met Elizabeth. His sister's face filled with censure. Periodically she would interject with a question.

When she asked, "You told her she was only tolerable and not handsome enough to tempt you?" – He shook his head and rolled his eyes in response.

A few moments later, she shook her head and clucked at him in disapproval before she asked, "You persuaded Charles to abandon her sister?"

His sister was beginning to giggle as she queried his last morsel of information, "Elizabeth cut her hair and came to London wearing men's clothes – to ask you for a loan?"

He held up his hand in protest. "Georgiana, you told me I sounded silly when I repeated what you said. You are equally as ridiculous when you exhibit similar behaviour."

She reserved comment after his admonition but laughed often as he finished by describing his proposal, Eli's rejection and his plans to win her family. "Oh brother, I am amazed she has any feelings for you... I mean of the pleasant sort... and to think she actually made a declaration of violent love. The ways of the heart are indeed strange. Congratulations on winning her love despite yourself!"

"Have you forgotten yourself--who is the older sibling here?" Georgiana laughed outright at his attempt to look strict. The balance of power had forever shifted. Giving in, Darcy sought his sister's advice. "What good does it do me that she declares her love, if she will not marry me? Given all that has happened, I believe her father will agree, but I would wish she agrees on her own rather than because her father tells her our marriage must take place."

"I will go to Elizabeth while you are in Hertfordshire persuading her father of your sincerity – by telling him you abducted her." She let out a very unladylike snort. A Georgiana enjoying his discomfort was one he had never seen before. "Leave it to me, Fitzwilliam; I will visit her at the Wilders,' while you and Jamie are away. The fact that you fearlessly told me the details of your highly improper and unconventional courtship should soften her resolve to resist your intentions."

Harry readily agreed to Darcy's request to travel with him to Longbourn. Since the young Robin Redbreast had no obligations for Christmas, he would consider the trip an adventure. With his recently earned renown for breaking up Gentleman Jack's gang, Harry could afford time away for leisure activities. Hertforshire would be a break for a hard-working member of the Bow Street Horse Patrol, and Darcy's mention that Elizabeth Bennet was one of five daughters made Harry very curious to see the others.

At first resistant when told Elisha Bartlett was really Elizabeth Bennet, Darcy had finally used Harry's own special name for Eli to win him over. "Harry, please, for my sake, you must grasp the reality that your favourite banty rooster is actually a hen."

As the truth finally dawned, Harry had broken into laughter. "Mr. Darcy, only two days ago we were sitting right here at this very table discussing cocks and their rising." He slapped his knee and let out a particularly loud guffaw. "Eli had no idea the meaning of what she said – did she? Her remark was innocent and actually about roosters crowing."

"Indeed, that was all she meant – and then she saw that my cousin gave a different meaning to her words, but I don't think she has figured it out yet. I hope with your assistance to be successful in marrying her – you must attend our wedding. My bride will be as she was when I met her – mostly modest and naive – but even back then she had more than a touch of Elisha Bartlett's impertinence. You will not see the brash, swaggering young man you met, but there will be enough left to recognize her talent for masquerade."

In a low voice, Harry asked, "Will you explain someday?"

Darcy's eyes twinkled to let his co-conspirator know he was not truly annoyed. "Mr. Fielding, your question is somewhat scandalous, but I ask you – does Elisha strike you as one who would be content not to know?"

Fielding laughed despite the impropriety of the topic. "No, Mr. Darcy."

Suddenly, Darcy became serious. "Harry, it is important that no one, not even Mr. Wickham, know that Elisha is Elizabeth. The truth will come out soon enough. But please, for the time being, I want her identity to remain a secret."

"This Wickham fellow has threatened to expose you for kissing a man. How can you allow him to spread such salacious information and impugn your reputation? Even locked up he will have an audience for his gossip. Besides, unless Elisha gives evidence of what he... she heard we will be unable to keep him for long... we can have the militia deal with him as a deserter – I imagine."

"No, neither, Elisha or Elizabeth will speak out against him. I also doubt we will be able to get him for being part of Gentleman Jack's gang – unless the highwayman himself exposes him. I just want him kept out of mischief for a while. My plan is to buy up his debts when I am in Hertfordshire and have him thrown in debtor's prison. However, I do not mind if he tells his tall tale."

"I don't understand why you would want him to do that."

"There are many stories beginning to circulate about me and Elisha Bartlett. Some are of heroic acts, and others are questioning our unnatural tastes. My feelings on the situation are the more rumours the merrier, and the more contradictory they are the better. Truth becomes very difficult to decide in such a situation.

Darcy leaned toward Harry as though confessing, but kept his voice loud enough to possibly be heard by others in the room. "I am even hoping Colonel Fitzwilliam lets slip the conjecture that Elisha is my natural son."

"Oh my, I now recall Grimsby overheard the colonel speculate about such nonsense to Lady Clarissa. I assume I forgot, because it seemed so outrageous at the time."

Darcy beamed that his plan was becoming so successful.

Harry and Darcy met Grimsby and two men from the constabulary. The spot of their meeting was where the highwayman's band had waylaid Lady Clarissa's carriage. Darcy and Mr. Fielding would take the path to the clearing, with the others remaining out of sight until Harry had Wickham in custody.

All went well, and the deserter and expectant blackmailer was subdued without any struggle – but copious quantities of crocodile tears for his innocence amidst details of Darcy's poor character were seen and heard.

Darcy assumed his boyhood friend's loquaciousness was the result of knowing no money would be coming his way any time soon. Wickham ramped up his act once the other men had arrived at the scene, and he had a larger audience for his slanderous words – of course they were not entirely false, but they would definitely add spice to the stew of rumours Darcy hoped for.

Wickham turned to Harry as he was tying his hands behind his back and spat some venom his way. "I see it now. You're conspiring with him, aren't you, Redbreast? Do you fancy pretty young men as well or did the great master of Pemberley pay you to do his bidding?"

Fielding just shook his head in disgust at the accusation thrown his way but pulled the ropes that much tighter as he worked. He seemed satisfied when he heard Wickham yelp in pain.

Grimsby spoke and Darcy was thrilled by his words. Richard's indiscretion had never been so greatly appreciated. "Mr. Wickham, I believe what you witnessed was the tender meeting of a father and son..."

"Bah! That was no fatherly embrace!"

"Wickham, you are under arrest. What lies you wish to spread in gaol are up to you. I think Mr. Darcy may have other plans for you – so make the most of your time because you may not have long," said Harry.

"Indeed, George, I plan to purchase your debts in Hertfordshire – unlike the ones in Lambton, I will not forgive these. Once the militia is through with you, some time in debtor's prison should do you a world of good. Spill your bile about me. Of course, lately I have been thinking you might like to sail to Nova Scotia and leave England for good."

The mention of debtor's prison seemed to give Wickham some fear. "Darcy, you can't! What would your father say? You know he loved me like a son!"

"To that rubbish, I say bah! George Darcy had one son – me. He also had a precious daughter, whom you tried to persuade to elope with you at fifteen. She fell for the story that you were a shy soul who would understand her far better than her rigid and arrogant brother. Many good women have probably fallen for your tales that I refused you your inheritance. But hear me well, my sister is no longer susceptible to a serpent such as you and your charming lies – she now knows the difference between good and evil men." Darcy thought, but did not say – and so does my Elizabeth.

"Yes, so you say. She has probably just turned as proud and stiff as you," Wickham muttered darkly.

"No, her heart is still sweet and open, no thanks to a scoundrel like you who could never appreciate her warm and loving nature. You would have destroyed her, and I believe you were the vile creature who alerted the highwaymen who the lady in the carriage was. Being from Derbyshire, you would know who was an earl's daughter and might bring a handsome ransom – that is if you and the misnamed Gentleman Jack could have kept your urges in check around her."

"Darcy, you are so melodramatic. There is no proof I had anything to do with those bandits. As for Georgiana, she definitely would have learned to be a woman in my hands, and thanked me for it."

Darcy refused to even acknowledge the sickening provocation by Wickham. He changed the topic back to the worm's blackmail. "My fear for my sister's good name last summer, must have given you the audacity for this ridiculous scheme. Unfortunately for you, neither my sister nor I are the same as we were. We are neither one of us afraid of a little gossip falling from the lips of a lizard."

The men in the clearing seemed to be enjoying the verbal battle between the two men. Harry pushed Wickham to his knees to give his friend Darcy a physical advantage.

Darcy decided to please the crowd and end the debate with his next words. "Pay you to be quiet? You fool, if stupidity was money, you would be rich." He gestured dramatically to the others. "All these honest hard-working men know you don't have a pot to piss in. Unfortunately for you, you have run afoul of me one time too many. Say what you will – I will not give you a farthing, and I would not waste my spit on you if you were on fire. Spill your lies to as many as can hear – I have nothing to fear from a worthless piece of shite as you."

With that Fitzwilliam Darcy mounted Rocinante. He sat proud in the saddle and felt very much like Don Quixote after a successful joust with a windmill – pleased with both his defence of Georgiana and the amazing number of conflicting rumours that had been spawned in this clearing.

Dr. Wilder and Mr. Davies were more difficult to persuade than Mr. Fielding, but a few carefully chosen words by Darcy delivered the desired result.

Jamie spoke first. "My uncle and I are very disappointed in your behaviour, Darcy. You have acted in a most reckless manner – with so little regard for a maiden's reputation or her family's honour"

Darcy refused to flinch. He nodded as he spoke. "Yes, love does inspire a man to proceed hastily sometimes – before he has taken care of all the necessary proprieties, such as requesting permission from a young lady's guardian for a private audience... I was wrong, but perhaps I am not the only man in love to act impulsively."

Jamie frowned and looked down at his shoe. "Well, there are differences in the extent of your lack of propriety – you took Elizabeth on the road – alone. If word of your trip becomes known, she will be branded a compromised woman – and her sisters will suffer as well. Your actions were unconscionable and particularly cruel to her family..."

"Yes, and yet – I love her – desperately. I will do anything to make things right.

Jamie and Darcy locked eyes with each other. A flash of understanding passed between them, and with his eyes still on Darcy, Jamie said, "Uncle, I think we should help Mr. Darcy."

The trio were soon discussing the details of Darcy and Jamie's trip to Hertfordshire. The father and cousin of Mrs. Gardiner were treated to the honest version of Darcy's plan. His need to keep the co-conspirators with the total truth to a minimum was emphasized, and he made clear that the Gardiners would be told the same tale as Mr. and Mrs. Bennet – that he had abducted Elizabeth. They seemed sympathetic to his desire to spare Elizabeth the humiliation of being known among her family as a disobedient daughter, but both looked somewhat sceptical as he explained the importance of conflicting rumours to his endeavour. The revelation that Colonel Fitzwilliam's preposterous indiscretion had already made the gossip mill had the three men laughing and lent credence to his complex arrangements.

When Darcy explained they would stay with his friend Charles Bingley who was hosting the Gardiner's at Netherfield, Mr. Davies remembered to share some disturbing news. "My daughter wrote in her Christmas letter the particulars of Miss Elizabeth's vanishing. I wondered as I read that she had been encouraged to marry a man my daughter found a very poor match for her – whether she had run away. Madeline, Mrs. Gardiner, seemed particularly worried about the oldest Bennet daughter. She had accepted the proposal of your Mr. Bingley, but was so distraught over her sister's disappearance that she refused to set a date until Elizabeth was found." Mr. Davies looked thoughtful and said, "I suppose it is the right thing to do to tell Miss Elizabeth, but I hesitate for fear she would once again act impetuously – and take the post alone back to Hertfordshire."

Dread gripped Darcy that his carefully thought out arrangements would be ruined. But under the duress of his anxiety, he thought of the final detail to make his plan perfect. "Please Mr. Davies, do not tell her. I have just made the decision to bring Elizabeth's family – her father and mother, her sister Jane and my friend Bingley – back with me to Derbyshire. My hope is that, Jamie and I will be able to persuade your daughter and her family to come with me as well. I think they should all attend the ball to celebrate Elisha's heroism."

Mr. Davies seemed very pleased with that development. The older man enthusiastically described his daughter, son-in-law and three lively grandchildren to Darcy while Dr. Wilder left to get his mother and Elizabeth to join them for a brief visit. Darcy's heart had gone into another of her mother's high-flutter at the thought of seeing her even for a few minutes.

Elizabeth arrived with the Wilders wearing one of Georgiana's dresses. The last time he had seen her dressed as a woman was the night of the Netherfield ball. She had looked beautiful that night. He made a note to himself that reflecting on that when he spoke to her father would lend credibility to his tale of being moved to proposing that evening. That gown had been ivory silk, and she had white rose buds twisted in her hair. This one was moss green and the cloth had a slight shimmer. Though it was nowhere near as fancy as her ball gown, the colour of the fabric brought out her fine eyes. The loveliness of the most handsome woman of his acquaintance – with all her natural assets displayed – absolutely took his breath away. He had to admit he did resent the cap she was wearing to hide her hair. Long or short her dark curls were beautiful to him.

The others allowed them to speak quietly with each other. She brought him a cup of tea and sat across from his chair on a settee. Her face displayed that same look of love he had seen as they were parting yesterday. Still, her eyes seemed tinged with sadness. "Hello Fitz, I did not expect to see you so soon."

"Jamie and I are going away tomorrow for a few days. We had decisions to make with regard our trip."

Her surprise was genuine, and her voice rose slightly as she replied. "Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. That is a strange time to be travelling."

"Our business is unavoidable and of the utmost importance."

Her only answer was a wide eyed, "Oh."

For a few minutes they just sipped their tea and gazed at each other. "What about Rucio? If you are not here on Christmas Day, when will you tell Georgiana about her?"

With all the plotting and planning he had forgotten about the grey mare. "I will show her tomorrow early before I leave. Yesterday morning, I told her everything that has transpired between us – well almost everything." His voice was barely audible. "I did not tell her of our kiss – that is a memory just for us."

Once again he received an, "Oh," but this time it was accompanied by a slightly mischievous smile and a quirk of her eyebrow.

Darcy displayed his dimples in delight. "Oh, by the way, Georgiana is planning to come by and make the acquaintance of Miss Elizabeth Bennet in a few days. If the weather is not too horrific, perhaps she will ride Rucio, and you can visit with them both.

She looked pleased with his news. The desire to share all the particulars of his intentions and to hear her laugh at his decision to claim he had been her abductor was almost overpowering. Telling her about Wickham's blackmail attempt would only worry her. Still, he would love to see her face light up with glee when he told her he would bring back her family. There was always the possibility that things would go dreadfully wrong. She would never forgive him if he built up her hopes and then had to dash them. Only with complete success would he be able to tell her the details of his bold and audacious plan that would break down her resistance and make her his for the rest of their lives.