Beginning, Previous Section, Section X

Chapter 44

Posted on December 9, 2008

Speak up man. Darcy glared at Richard and Miss Elizabeth chatting in the parlor of the parsonage. How can this be? He is talking to her and I am here listening to a discussion about the garden? Ignoring the immaterial and one way conversation Mr. Collins was conducting, Darcy kept his sight on the small curl bouncing on her neck as Elizabeth smiled, laughed, and shared words with his cousin. Get up and speak to her. Do not let yet another bloody charmer claim her time. Get up.

When Miss Elizabeth glanced towards him, Darcy could not make his lips smile, even though he tried. His neck felt not just damp, but so wet, trickles of water oozed down his back. Richard shrugged at something she said. He watched her tilt her chin, raise her brow and, with the slightest curl of her lip, she turned her head toward him yet again. Forcing the muscles in his legs to react, he pushed himself upright, not realizing the inane parson was in the middle of a sentence until he became vaguely aware of the man's apologies. He moved closer, with a deliberate intent to speak Miss Elizabeth, disregarding the grating tone of the toady man who was almost clinging to his arm. Ten minutes, and I have yet to show proper civilities.

"Good morning, Miss Bennet. How is your family? I hope they are well."

Elizabeth answered in the usual way and then sat still, with her eyes boring into his as she waited for his response. When he did not respond, she raised her brow. "My eldest sister and I have been in town these three months. Have you never happened to see her there?"

"I did not have that pleasure." Well, I did not actually see her. Miss Bingley informed me she was in London.

"I hope your friends are well."

Darcy moved his weight from one foot to the other. "Yes, they are all well."

"Do you engage in competitions in town, or have all your friends retreated to the countryside?

"Lord Blake, Mr. Kent and I have remained in London. Mr. Bingley is visiting family in the north and Mr. Rawlings has journeyed to America."

"America? Well, I wish him well. And the stallion; does Lord Blake ride him still?"

"Yes. All our friends wished to see the Andalusian, and he has been busy showing him off. It appears everyone in London was interested in the games."

"I was interested in you winning, Darcy." Richard laughed, and smiled at Elizabeth when she turned towards him. "I believe all the Fitzwilliams were paying attention to the golf game, since we had all wagered on him." Richard tipped his head towards Darcy.

Darcy rolled his eyes in response.

Now that Richard had disrupted his cousin's exchange, he returned to his discussion about Rosa Matilda's newest book, but Darcy smirked at his cousin when Elizabeth offered her own lively opinions about the nonsensical purpose of gothic novels such as The Passions. Darcy retreated to the sofa, happy to let the parson take control of any conversation. He kept his attention focused on the young couple engrossed in friendly banter.

His cousin spoke at length, while she nodded and more than once snuck a peek towards his side of the parlor. The moment the room grew quiet, Darcy stood, making it known it was time to leave. Richard conceded, and the two left for Rosings.

"Darcy. You were restrained, even for you. I had expected much more talk from you, since you are acquainted with Miss Bennet. If she had not testified to your acquaintance, I would think you spoke a falsehood before. I believe you like her."

"Humph." Darcy continued to march to the house with uncommon speed, his long strides pulling him away from both the parsonage and the irritating colonel. Richard noted how Darcy's neck was red, and the hairs upon it were standing straight up.

"Have I touched a nerve, dear cousin?" Richard said teasingly.

Darcy entered the house without speaking, bounded up the stairs two steps at a time, and rushed toward his bedchambers. Richard tried to follow, but with shorter legs, he failed to reach the door before Darcy slammed and locked it shut. Richard's laugh could be heard as he walked down the hall to his own chambers.

Darcy paced the room. Damn charm. Blast! Why does she not see beyond the fine words of charming men?

He needed to think, and his feet carried him to the window where he moved the drapery back and peeked out over the front lawn, concentrating his stare on the forced landscape design.

Goulding, Blake, Wickham, and now Richard. Darcy slumped into the chair and tapped the arms with his fingers. He closed his eyes, recalling her appearance as she gazed upon the other four men.

The image of her laughing with Goulding struck first; how her eyes flickered when she spoke, her head tilting to the right. Darcy shook his own head when he realized it was leaning to the left. She never tilted her head when she spoke with me. He returned to tapping his fingers and conjuring up images until he could not sit still any longer.

He poured himself a glass of wine, and wondered why his aunt did not provide brandy. He would tell his man to fill a carafe and keep it filled for his entire stay.

"You look lovely today, Miss Elizabeth," Darcy said aloud and then ran his hand through his hair. Why could I not have been a little charming?

Darcy gulped his drink and settled back down into his chair. She did not tilt her head sideways at all with Blake; why she gazed up to him with her head lowered. Even now, he felt his hand itching to reach for her chin. He wanted to lift it up, gaze full square into those eyes, and amuse her until the tiny flecks of gold and green would appear. Her eyes had always turned a subtle, shiny emerald color when she cast them on Blake. No wonder the man waited all day for her. Darcy shook his head.

"Damn you, Blake. Why did you take a liking to her? You filled her head with..." Darcy paused, gulped another sip of his wine and added, "flowery words. Did you give her flowers too?" He remembered she had worn wildflowers in her hair at Sir William's party, twirled a garden rose at his Tup Running game, and adorned tiny rosebuds in her curls at Bingley's ball. He felt a stab when another image of a flower appeared, this time as a marker in what he assumed was a secret passage in the book Blake gave Elizabeth at Netherfield Park.

Darcy rose and began to walk around the room again, stopping and holding his breath until the footsteps he heard in the hall faded away. With only a single hour of privacy left, he had no desire for company. Richard can deal with Aunt Catherine and Anne this trip.

He poured his third glass of wine, not hesitating as he drained it. Pulling the drapes back, he envisioned a different world outside. Little children with beautiful black curly hair pranced on the lawn with makeshift wooden horse sticks, each with the Darcy crest emblazed on their bridles. He leaned closer to the windowpane when the little girl gazed up to his window, smiling at him all the way to her eyes with gold and green specks sparkling.

But when the girl's eyes slowly transformed into those of a grown up woman in a pale yellow ball gown, he stepped back from the window, closing the curtain in an unsuccessful attempt to block out the vision. Her eyes grew increasingly dark until they were black as an unlit night sky. He shuddered as he heard her call out, "blinded by prejudice."

Unable to stop the words from ringing in his ears, he raised his hands to each side of his head, attempting to block out her taunts. His actions made no difference, as he could still hear her say, "He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship, and in a manner which he is likely to suffer from all his life."

Another blasted charmer. Wickham must have been at his best to convince her to defend him so. Did he woo her too? Damn him and his blasted charm. He closed his eyes. ‘Lose his friendship' What did she mean by that? ‘Prejudice!' Humph. If she only knew the truth.

He smoothed his clothing. Richard will be talkative tonight. How does he think of such frivolous subjects, and why do the women always listen and laugh? As Darcy approached the door, the sight of an animated and laughing Elizabeth speaking to Richard sprung into his mind. Damn Blasted Charm.

The week continued along the same pattern. Darcy woke early, ate breakfast and went for a morning ride. He returned to find Richard and Anne chatting about impractical things as they ate their meal. His aunt always had her breakfast tray sent to her room. After spending the day on the estate problems, he spent his late afternoons listening to his aunt expound on the virtues of Rosings and its heir. He appeared both attentive and noncommittal, and continued this charade through dinner and evening drinks. Every evening, the four played cards; Richard paired with their aunt and Darcy with Anne. Only his superior play allowed them to remain competitive.

All during the week, Richard appeared to be enjoying Darcy's situation, sending him secret smirks whenever possible. Late at night, they met for several games of billiards. Darcy had introduced him to Twenty Points when he had first returned from Hertfordshire, but now preferred not to play that game or to engage in anything remotely connected to Netherfield Park, in general, and Longbourn, in particular.

Drinks in Darcy's bedchambers followed the billiards and then Richard would retire, leaving his cousin to spend a restless hour or so before succumbing to sleep. Darcy tossed and turned, falling asleep very late. Nothing he did, drank, or thought could shake her likeness or her eyes from his consciousness.

He had not returned to the parsonage since that early morning almost a week ago; however, the Sunday Services brought about a change in the pattern. The day before, Richard had not joined Lady Catherine and Anne for their normal afternoon visit, and his whereabouts were not revealed until he came to Darcy's room for his brandy later that night. Richard had spent the entire afternoon with the Hunsford ladies, and the majority of his time in deep conversation with Miss Elizabeth.

Darcy squeezed the arms of the chair each time Richard deliberately and methodically shared a word or a look he had received from the beautiful Elizabeth. He withheld nothing in painting a picture of her lovely smiles, whispers, glances, and a even an accurate description of the golden green specks that flashed in her eyes.

When Richard retired to his own bedchambers, Darcy began walking back and forth between his bed, the door, and the window until the wee hours of the morning, all the time arguing with himself over all the men in Miss Elizabeth's life: Richard, Wickham, Goulding and Blake. He steadily drank the entire carafe of brandy. He debated the merits of a country girl with no money, no connections and an unfortunate family. Finally exhausted at one in the morning he fell into a deep sleep until three hours later when he sat bolt upright in bed.

"She saves her most serious looks for me. Why it is me---I am sure now---she loves me."

Darcy did not return to sleep, choosing instead to jump out of bed, light a candle, and stand at the window, staring at his reflection flickering in the glass against the blackness of the night. His hair was tousled; his nightshirt twisted and wrinkled.

The timepiece on the mantle indicated the sunrise was more than an hour away. He had time to determine what his next step would be.

"She loves me, I am positive," Darcy stood before his reflection in the window, rubbed his chin, and glared at his face.

She does not want Blake, or she would have met with him the day after the ball. She had never even pretended she wanted Goulding, no matter how fond there were of each other. They would be engaged by now if she did. Darcy's eyes narrowed as he thought of Wickham. I must warn her somehow of his evil side. But his mouth curved into a toothy smile as he remembered her stay at Netherfield Park. All the time flirting with Blake; she tried to make me jealous! Why was I so blind? She sent me sly looks often, and I was a fool not to know. What must she think of me?

"It cannot be helped, but I will show her I understand now. I will attend to her, and it will not be with childish words or pretty flowers. My Elizabeth has more depth than that." My Elizabeth! His deep set dimples and the crinkled skin beside his eyes were easily discernable in the window's reflection. He grasped his hands behind his back. "I will treat her with proper respect and decorum."

Darcy mentally listed ways to court her attention. He did not feel she needed much encouragement. He was rich, and after evaluating the image on the windowpane, decided he was handsome enough to tempt her. Yes, she is discerning in her choice.

A knock interrupted his reverie, and when he opened the door, he was startled to find Richard fully dressed for a sunrise ride.

"You are up and about early."

Richard rolled his eyes. "Are we not leaving today? My trunks are ready, and I came to see if a morning gallop was to your liking before the long carriage trip back to London after church services."

Darcy froze. I cannot leave now. He shook his head. "Oh, beg your pardon, Richard. I will be staying another week, but if you wait, I will happily change into riding clothes and join you."

When Darcy moved toward the dressing room, Richard aimed a defiant and angry stare at his cousin's back. Silence ensued as the two men departed. Richard did not speak until they returned and, the only words he said were a curt and abrupt, "Good ride."

Darcy, busy contemplating the new revelation about Elizabeth, did not notice the change in his cousin. After giving Richard a slight nod, he left to prepare for church service. Only his best would do, for today he would signal to Elizabeth his desire for a closer acquaintance.

Darcy's eyes never strayed from Elizabeth the entire time he sat in his aunt's parlor that evening. He was unconcerned when she spent most of the time conversing with Richard. He overheard her words: Rosings, Hertfordshire, traveling, books, and music. Richard had said nothing of any consequence, or anything other than his usual brainless chatter, and Darcy sighed, but was now content, knowing they were becoming friends. While his aunt rattled on in the background, he anticipated what future meals would be like at Darcy House and Pemberley. He envisioned Richard and Georgiana laughing and sharing secrets with his Elizabeth, while he oversaw their friendship from the head of the table. His Elizabeth would sit, not at the other end of the table, but to his right. His palm felt a spark as he imagined his hand caressing hers.
Lost in his reverie, he paid no attention to his Aunt Catherine until she demanded attention be paid to her. Mr. Darcy awoke from his dreams when she asked him to concur in her pronouncement about practicing to Elizabeth. A little ashamed of his aunt's ill breeding and condescending manner, he made no answer. There will be none of that when we are.... Darcy's chest tightened as he held his breath. Married, I was about to say married. My feelings have gone beyond the desire for friendship. But now I must mull this over more carefully, more rationally, and with logic and practicality. From the raised brows on Richard's face, Darcy feared he had displayed his reaction to his thoughts and realized he would have to guard his emotions more closely.

Later, after he had retired to his bedchambers, Darcy did what had become commonplace for him; he paced. He would pause, pour a drink, take a big gulp, and then continue his long strides around the room, concentrating on the Bennets and other issues. How can I even consider connecting myself to such a family?

Darcy slid into his chair at the writing table, pulled out a blank sheet, and with a sharpened pen began to list the problems.

Father. Mr. Bennet hides away in his library. He shows no respect to his wife or silly daughters, but he does look upon his eldest two with fondness. He has shown a lack of judgment on business matters, but that is immaterial to me. He would not be included in my business ventures.

Mercenary Mother. Yes, Mrs. Bennet is mercenary, but Rawlings pointed out all mothers are thus. Darcy scratched the word from the list.

Silly and ignorant sisters. Visits could be arranged at my convenience, not theirs. I can determine the best time. One day they will marry, and I will never have to deal with them again. Darcy drew a bold line across the words.

Friends. Elizabeth did not meet Blake. He was not her choice, so he should not... Darcy returned to window. He cannot fault me. He... he had his chance. He has found another now. His thoughts turned to Bingley. I am sorry that Miss Bennet did not care for Bingley. He could have been my brother. Well, perhaps he would be a good match for Georgiana. They are both gentle people. He returned to the desk and crossed out the word. "My friends will rejoice in my happiness".

Duty. My father and mother directed me to marry someone who would enhance my holdings or increase my standing in society. But why? I have more wealth than is required if I was to have ten children. I am my own man. I can choose anyone I please. I am satisfied with my circle of friends. That will not change when I take Elizabeth for my wife. Again he took his pen to the paper and drew a line through the word.

Darcy froze as he glared at the next word on the list.

Family. Here is a problem. Aunt Catherine would never approve of anyone other than her daughter to be my wife, even if they had wealth and stature, let alone a no-name country miss from an unknown parish named Meryton. What do I owe her? I will never marry Anne. I need an heir. She cannot argue against that! Darcy stood and stepped silently as he made his way to the brandy carafe. He poured another drink, but this time he merely swirled the amber liquid around in the glass before putting the drink down without a single sip. He returned to his desk, and glowered at the offending word again. "Family!"

My Uncle! Of all my relatives, Richard's father would be the hardest to persuade. He is rigid in his opinions. He would never accept Elizabeth. Never. When he discovers she has an uncle in Cheapside...

Darcy abruptly spurted out, "a dishonest uncle in Cheapside." He ran his hand through his hair and then rubbed his chin. How can I overcome that obstacle? Will I be asked to bail the man out of debtor's prison? Will he try to con me out of my money? How can I keep Elizabeth away from him?

"Oh, Elizabeth," Darcy whispered as he laid his head on his fist. "My dear, sweet, Elizabeth."

Saying her name brought back the memory of the only conversation he had held with her since he had arrived at Rosings. He had smiled at her impertinence while she had played the pianoforte, and frowned as he recalled that Richard sat next to her in a chair, placed too far for turning pages and much to close for merely listening.

"You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me? But I will not be alarmed though your sister does play so well. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate me." She had teased him in a way no other woman had done before, showing herself to be intelligent as well as witty.

"Why did Richard encourage her to tease me more?" Darcy said his thought aloud.

"Pray let me hear what you have to accuse him of. I should like to know how he behaves among strangers."

"She answered him while playing notes and peering up at me, both the music and her countenance was so sweet.

"You shall hear then---but prepare yourself for something very dreadful. The first time of my ever seeing him in Hertfordshire, you must know, was at a ball---and at this ball, what do you think he did? He danced only four dances! I am sorry to pain you---but so it was. He danced only four dances, though gentlemen were scarce; and, to my certain knowledge, more than one young lady was sitting down in want of a partner. Mr. Darcy, you cannot deny the fact."

Darcy sipped his brandy and smiled at himself for being able to reveal something private about his character. "I certainly have not the talent which some people possess, of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done."

His willingness to share his faults with her startled him, since he had never discussed them with any other person, not even Richard. He sighed. Well, now she knows I am shy as well as resentful! He gaze drifted to the window, and although there was not a clear view of Hunsford, he wondered if she was looking out the window towards him. When he wondered if he had caused her any worry, he felt a twinge in his neck until he remembered he had ended the conversation with a compliment to her, "You are perfectly right. You have employed your time much better. No one admitted to the privilege of hearing you, can think any thing wanting. We neither of us perform to strangers."

Darcy strolled around the room for several minutes before stopping at the window. Well, I definitely declared my intentions tonight! She can have no doubt as to my desires now. He forgot all thoughts of the uncle from Cheapside as he sipped his brandy and planned how he would spend his remaining time with her.

Darcy climbed up the front steps and waited while the young maid opened the door. She led him to the parlor where he expected to find the ladies of the house embroidering, reading, or writing letters. As he entered the room, his eyes lit up when he observed only Elizabeth, standing to greet him in an otherwise empty room.

He apologized for his intrusion, letting her know that he had understood all the ladies to be at home.

After the usual civilities were exchanged, they sat down. He had just settled in the chair when his body stiffened at her question of why the Netherfield party had left so quickly and followed Bingley to town.

"I can only speak for myself. I had business matters that needed my attention." He relaxed when she changed the subject to Bingley's sisters' well being.

For some minutes, he was content to gaze at her. She held her shoulders straight and placed her hands delicately in her lap. Poise. She is overflowing with poise. His line of sight traveled down the length of her body and back upwards. She does have a light and pleasing figure and her... Darcy looked away to conceal his face as he felt the heat rising after his eyes had wandered to where the dress and skin met. Today he was disappointed to see that a strip of lace had been added to her dress. Once recovered, he turned towards her to revel in her beautiful face as she spoke.

"I think I have understood that Mr. Bingley has not much idea of ever returning to Netherfield again?" Elizabeth asked.

Darcy squirmed in his seat. "I have never heard him say so; but it is probable that he may spend very little of his time there in future." He saw her startle, and offered an explanation. "He has many friends, and he is at a time of life when friends and engagements are continually increasing."

He paid no attention to her narrowed eyes and tight-lipped smile; instead, he studied how straight she held her head and how she pushed her shoulders back and leaned away from him. She must be fighting her desire to draw close to me.

"If he means to be but little at Netherfield, it would be better for the neighborhood that he should give up the place entirely, for then we might possibly get a settled family there." She looked down at her hands, which were resting one on top of the other in her lap. "But perhaps Mr. Bingley did not take the house so much for the convenience of Meryton as for his own, and we must expect him to keep or quit it on the same principle."

Darcy shrugged. "I should not be surprised if he were to give it up, as soon as any eligible purchase offers."

Even though Elizabeth made no answer, he enjoyed the play of emotions crossing her face. Her expression went from taut and harsh to a softer more relaxed one. He examined her eyes, seeking the playfulness that appeared when she spoke to other men. He was not deterred when he saw nothing but blankness. Yes, she is excellent at controlling her emotions.

Remembering her suggestion to practice his social niceties, he searched the room for a subject to discuss. "This seems a very comfortable house. Lady Catherine, I believe, did a great deal to it when Mr. Collins first came to Hunsford."

He watched her lips move in a gentle motion as she continued the conversation about the Collinses. However, he was surprised when she responded with harshness to his suggestion that Mrs. Collins had settled within so easy a distance of her own family and friends.

"An easy distance do you call it? It is nearly fifty miles."

"And what is fifty miles of good road? Little more than half a day's journey. Yes, I call it a very easy distance." She must agree that she need not be settled near Longbourn.

He leaned back and waited for her volley. When she expressed her opinion of how close one should live to one's family, his heart pounded furiously. "You cannot have a right to such very strong local attachment. You cannot have been always at Longbourn."

Elizabeth looked surprised and a bit offended.

Misunderstanding her reaction, he drew back his chair, took a newspaper from the table, and, glancing over it, said, in a colder voice, "Are you pleased with Kent?"

A short dialogue on the subject of the country ensued, on either side calm and concise---and soon put an end to by the entrance of Charlotte, just returned from her walk. Mr. Darcy related the mistake, which had occasioned his intruding on Miss Bennet, and after sitting a few minutes longer without saying much to anybody, went away.

Over the next week, Darcy regularly called upon the ladies at the parsonage. He was very much amazed at Elizabeth's composure. She is the most proper lady of my acquaintance. No silly flirting for her. She needs no wiles to capture my heart. Fearing others would notice their attraction to each other, and not wishing to place Miss Elizabeth in any awkward situation, he kept his visits short.

When his cousin accompanied him, he used Richard to stay longer, contented to sit and watch her smile, laugh, and talk, all the while catching sight of her sly glances towards him. His heart pounded so loudly he had to concentrate hard to quell it. He had no doubt she understood his darkened stares were to help control his feelings in front of others. She would raise that brow and smile slightly, tight-lipped. Ahhh. That is the look she reserves for me alone. She is clever, perhaps the most astute lady in all of England. I do not have to explain my meanings to her.

Several times, he caught sight of Mrs. Collins staring at him. I must be careful. She is suspicious. She may have acted foolishly in marrying such a man as the parson, but she is no fool. I will protect Elizabeth. Darcy turned slowly and gazed at the young lady smiling sweetly to Richard. My Elizabeth. No one shall know, my dearest, until you want it known.

During the weeks that followed, Darcy was at his happiest when he came upon her rambling about the estate.

She was so clever to share the location for her favorite walks. He sought her out every day the weather permitted a walk. When they accidentally discovered each other, he would offer his arm and escort her back to the parsonage. Staring at her hand, he was tempted to take it and place small kisses upon her fingers, whereupon his mouth would dry up each time he visualized touching her skin with his lips. The sound of his heart beating thundered in his ears.

At night, he berated himself for his inability to string a complete sentence together when in her presence. He was pleased Elizabeth spoke little, and did not demand he engage in frivolous chit-chat. She knows me better than I know myself. But she did say I must practice. I need practice. With his nightly brandy in one hand and his other held behind his back, Darcy stood in front of the window and practiced talking aloud on various subjects.

"Miss Bennet, I hope you find Rosings' grounds pleasant, or do you prefer something more natural?"

"Miss Bennet, were you trained in Greek studies? Who is your favorite philosopher?"

"Miss Bennet, Am I correct that you are an admirer of walks in the countryside?"

"Miss Bennet, does it not appear to you that Mr. and Mrs. Collins are well suited for one another?"

"Miss Bennet, you look lovely today. The green in your gown highlights the green specks sparkling in your eyes. The lavender scent fills my nostrils with joy. The feel of your skin causes my heart to beat furiously." Bah! What drivel! I cannot say such things to a woman.

By their third encounter, he had finally found his voice. At first he did not say the words he had practiced, but rambled on several subjects. He was surprised at her questioning look when he spoke of Rosings, and how she would be staying there too whenever they came into Kent. Surely, she does not expect us to stay at Hunsford!

Satisfied he had given her leave to fantasize about their future together, he returned to Rosings and roamed around the house. He evaluated each room as to its suitability for a proposal, and quickly decided upon the balcony off the drawing room as the perfect spot. Pushing away thoughts of a different balcony and a different man holding Elizabeth's hand, he rushed to scrutinize the space. First, he looked forward to the breathing in the lavender fragrance, which would permeate the air. I first noticed it climbing the stairs to the assembly hall in Meryton. From the beginning, we were destined for each other.

"Now, how do I get her out here and all alone?" Darcy leaned against the railing, probing his mind to find a ploy until he spied an unusual tree among the oaks. Ah ha! I will ask her to help me identify that one, he thought as he stared at the tree with its perfect blossoming heart-shaped leaves. Yes, It is unusual enough that it would not seem odd I did not know its name, and yet not too uncommon that she would be at a loss. She might say it is a lime tree, of which I could tease her with its Latin name, Tilia. And then I will tell her I wish to speak seriously. Yes, that is how I will approach her.

The next day, Darcy dressed with care, choosing the blackest of jackets and the whitest of shirts. He looked himself over in the reflecting glass, first turning sideways and then looking over his shoulder to view himself from every angle. The gold flecks in his blue waistcoat sparkled to match the gold specks in her eyes. Finally, running his fingers through his dark curly hair, he laughed. "Blake's blond hair and fair looks did not win this race."

Breathing deeply three times, he calmed his nerves and left to join the others in the drawing room; but as he reached the top of the stairs, he overheard Mr. Collins apologize that Miss Bennet was not well and would not be attending.

Darcy grabbed the handrail and squeezed until his hands ached. Pleased that no one had noticed him, he quietly retreated to his bedchamber, where he marched up and down the rug, mumbling as he went.

After a quarter of an hour, he came to an abrupt halt and a wide smile stretched across his face. "She is clever, I understand it now. She is giving me the chance to come to her without fear of others being present. I must see her tonight. I must."

Darcy promptly left his room, dashed down the steps, and found himself advancing in long strides on the path to the Hunsford parsonage.

"I will propose tonight, and tomorrow she will be introduced as my future bride. Nothing will stop me now."

Chapter 45

Posted on December 16, 2008

"I ardently admire and love you."

The words rang out with every ounce of pride, his hands open at his side and his shoulders relaxed. His felt his heart pumping with such great force that he feared the sound could be heard across the room. His breath caught in his throat when she did not respond. I suppose she wants me to continue.

Darcy moved closer to her, his eyes scanning her body while he ignored her backward retreat to the window. He admired how she stood tall with her hands grasped in front of her. She is waiting. What must I say now? Perhaps if I explain how hard this was for me to choose her, my admission will demonstrate my deep and abiding love for her."

"I have long admired you. Ever since we first met, I witnessed your grace and poise in spite of the family of which you belong." He noticed how she flinched. Yes, she is as embarrassed by them as I am. I must show her how I have overcome my disgust, but I will try to be kind as I speak the truth.

"Miss Bennet, although your family is inferior to any with which I would be expected to seek a connection, I decided to overlook any degradation the joining of our families would bring." Darcy lowered his voice and relaxed his expression. "Even though many may not consider you acceptable as the Mistress of Pemberley, I must respond to my desire, which grows stronger with each day. I cannot deny my feelings for you despite my beliefs, my duty and my obligations. In seeking you out, I am disregarding what I know I should do; nonetheless, I will accept the consequences. And while the Bennets may never be permitted to attend family social gatherings, you, as my wife, will be by my side. I promise you that I will demand they accept you, treat you with respect that would be due Mrs. Darcy, and not dishonor you in any way in my presence."

Elizabeth's only movement during the entire speech was the narrowing of her eyelids and the tightening of her hands.

Darcy moved forward, the hint of a smile. "It is with great hope, therefore, that I humbly ask you to accept my offer of marriage." Standing tall, his chin lifted high, he spread his arms to welcome her into his embrace. He readied his lips for the kiss he had so long sought and moved another step closer.

Elizabeth held up her open palm and stopped him from advancing. He retreated to the fireplace and leaned against the mantle. She must be desirous of explaining how she longed for my offer and how she hid her love. I spoke my mind, now it is her turn. I will give her the opportunity to show her love. He nodded for her to speak.

"In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, however unequally they may be returned. It is natural that obligation should be felt, and if I could feel gratitude, I would now thank you. But I cannot---I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly. I am sorry to have occasioned pain to any one. It has been most unconsciously done, however, and I hope will be of short duration. The feelings which, you tell me, have long prevented the acknowledgment of your regard, can have little difficulty in overcoming it after this explanation."

What? What did she say? He grabbed the mantle as his mind processed her words. Did she reject me? Me? But she loves me. Why would she deny me? Is she playing a game? I heard many women first say no before they accept. I did not think she was such a woman. As comprehension of the truth inhabited his thoughts, he had difficulty swallowing. He studied her cold black eyes glaring into his. Her hands had fallen to her sides; her shoulders had been thrown back and her own chin was raised defiantly. This is no game. She meant it. She will not accept my offer. Who is she to reject me? A country nobody with no fortune.

Elizabeth held her ground.

Sensing his cheeks burning, he felt the humiliation of the rejection, but it was a tone of anger that crept in his voice when he answered, "And this is all the reply which I am to have the honor of expecting! I might, perhaps, wish to be informed why, with so little endeavor at civility, I am thus rejected." When she did not recoil at his request, he lifted his head, and with the coldest and most haughty attitude he could muster said, "But it is of small importance." A wounded animal does not show weakness if he wishes to survive.

In response, her words flew from her mouth in a ferocious, but controlled voice and a tone he had never heard used to address him before. She first spoke of his separating Bingley and her beloved sister, quickly moving on with her next accusation to his unfair treatment of Wickham, and then finally, and to his astonishment, his alleged manipulation of Blake.

"Did you detach your friend, Lord Blake, from me as well? Did you persuade him to leave Netherfield Park and never to contact me again?" Elizabeth tilted her head, but did not lower her cold stare or lessen the anger directed at him. "Are you the conductor of every friend's life?"

Darcy experienced a stabbing pain in his heart. He responded with a, "No, of course not", but her quick reaction caused him to stop dead in his tracks.

"And if that is not enough, you showed your complete and total disregard for my family long before you spoke today in such an ungentleman-like manner. You have already proven yourself as an unfeeling person when you asked if my father had a book on gas lighting.

Why does she find gas lighting offensive? As he attempted to recall the exact event, she unleashed the rest of her accusations.

Elizabeth grabbed the back of the chair. "You showed your true character that day. I do not know how you found out our fortune was lost over an investment in gas lighting, but I thought your comment insensitive and cruel, mocking me and my father in that way."

Unable to control the surprised reaction he knew was revealed by his eyes, mouth and stance, he answered in an agitated tone. "Your father? He may have acted foolishly, but I bear no ill feelings toward him. Mr. Gardiner convinced him to invest, so he should be the one to blame! Your uncle is the dishonest one."

"Why do you call my uncle dishonest? What gives you the right to slander such a good man?" Elizabeth squeezed the back of the chair tighter until her knuckles turned white.

"He hides his deceitfulness by blaming his problems on Mr. Cuffage."

Elizabeth's eyes widened. "Mr. Cuffage? You, sir, are woefully mistaken. That evil man caused my father to lose his investment in the Gas Light Company. Not my Uncle Gardiner."

"Miss Bennet, you are not familiar with the business world, and have not been privileged with the right information. Believe me, it pains me to be the one to tell you the truth. I nearly made a disastrous decision, had I listened to your other Uncle, Mr. Phillips. He, too, tried to deceive me by placing Mr. Cuffage in a bad light."

Elizabeth's eyes turned very dark, and without blinking announced, "You, sir, are just too proud to admit you are wrong." She raised her chin, stood tall as was possible and said in a voice so loudly the servant in the other room could make out the words, "You are vain, in addition to being proud. You believe your knowledge superior to everyone else's, even gentlemen who have lived twice your life. Well, one day you will find out how truly inferior your assumptions are."

"You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness."

Elizabeth remained motionless by the window as he wished her a happy life and disappeared out of the room.

He bounded up the steps of Rosings, and did not slow until he had locked himself in his bedchambers. He rang for his man and told him to pack. They would leave in the morning, and as the man turned to leave, Darcy asked him to refill the brandy carafe. Not caring what his man suspected, he began to pace the room as he recalled the whole conversation. He uncharacteristically spoke aloud, sometimes directing his comments at the window, other times to an invisible Elizabeth within the room.

"You did not seem ill when I arrived. I should have known then that something was wrong. And even though I was polite about your health, you were not welcoming. I did not comprehend your curt reply, ‘I am well, Sir.' You spit the words from your mouth, I see it now."

His long legs carried him from the door to the window and back again as he tried to calm himself. His directed his words now to an invisible jury seated around the room.

"The whole time I was pacing and trying to select the best words with which to propose, she just sat there glowering at me with laughing eyes, and she certainly did not offer me any help. No wonder I was agitated when I finally revealed my humiliating appeal, ‘In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.' Yes she must have been well entertained by me, and is no doubt laughing tonight."

He plopped into the chair and shook his finger wildly to the unseen jurors. "I can see now she was astonished beyond expression. She stared at me, her face turned red, her eyes widened. She was stunned. Why did I think that was encouragement to continue? Why did I assume she did not need flowery words?"

Darcy stood, pointing his finger at himself. "I spoke the truth. She is inferior! There can be no argument with that. Her family? It would be a degradation. Did I not tell her how I conquered those feelings because my attachment was strong? Did she not know how difficult this decision was for me?"

Darcy returned to pacing the room, not paying any attention to the sound of the thud of his boots stomping on the floor. He wrongly assumed the rich carpet muffled his movement, or that his cousin, Richard, could not hear him swearing through the door.

"Damn her. Damn me." He glared at the reflection in the window. The only image he could make out was one of himself---no Elizabeth, no jury. The evening had grown dark, his image clearly appearing in the glass. "I did my best to be kind and gentle when I explained to her how much I must sacrifice." He placed his hand on his chest and shook his head. "She seemed affable at first, but then her face turned to stone. Her eyes, those beautiful, expressive eyes tuned black, and I swear I could feel the fire from them."

Rising up to his full height, he glowered at his reflection. "Well, I did try to be kind, and besides, I did ask for her hand in marriage. Did I not tell her how anxious I was? Who is she to refuse me?"

He turned away from the window and trudged over to the table holding the brandy decanter, and poured the fiery amber liquor to the brim of his goblet. After taking a large sip, he spoke aloud as he swirled the remnants in the bottom of his glass. He saluted the invisible jury that had returned.

"Never once did I expect the words that flew out of her mouth when she said, ‘In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, however unequally they may be returned.' She understood she was hurtful, the color in her cheeks was bright red. She knew, but she said it anyway. If I did not have the mantle-piece to keep me upright, I would have collapsed that very second. I struggled, and she sat in her seat and did nothing to lighten my burden. Why did I go on? Why did I not leave then, and never look back?"

Darcy slumped in his chair, both arms lying dead along the sides and his legs gone limp. He remained unresponsive for several moments as the images of Richard, Kent, Rawlings, Blake, Bingley, and even Jane Bennet departed, as if to decide his fate in some jury room outside of his vision. Finally, he demanded life return to his body and sat upright, turning his head and staring at the writing desk.

"I will write her a letter. I will defend myself to her alone. Surely, she will go on one of her walks tomorrow as if nothing important happened today. She admitted she is not ill. I will hand it to her then. I shall defend myself against all of her accusations, but I will not degrade myself any further. And I shall make no more offers about my ardent love---not in writing, nor when I face her."

Darcy moved to the desk, retrieved his pens and stationary and began to write. He was not sorry for the first words he consigned to the smooth paper. He read them twice and sneered. "She needs to read these words to understand my feelings today."

Be not alarmed, Madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments, or renewal of those offers, which were last night so disgusting to you. I write without any intention of paining you, or humbling myself, by dwelling on wishes, which, for the happiness of both, cannot be too soon forgotten; and the effort which the formation and the perusal of this letter must occasion should have been spared, had not my character required it to be written and read. You must, therefore, pardon the freedom with which I demand your attention; your feelings, I know, will bestow it unwillingly, but I demand it of your justice.

Darcy leaned back in his chair and tried to recreate in his mind the exact scene. He spoke to his pen as if trying to explain what happened. "Without any hint of remorse she said quite calmly, ‘Had not my own feelings decided against you, had they been indifferent, or had they even been favorable, do you think that any consideration would tempt me to accept the man, who has been the means of ruining, perhaps forever, the happiness of a most beloved sister?'

He decided his defense would start with Miss Bennet and Bingley. "I was right in telling her how I had no need to deny taking actions to separate my friend from her sister." Before writing down his thoughts on why he did not consider his action officious, he felt an apology of sorts was required. He dipped his pen in the ink well, took a breath, and began to write the words swirling in his head.

If, in the explanation of them which is due to myself, I am under the necessity of relating feelings which may be offensive to yours, I can only say that I am sorry

Darcy reread it several times and was content. He dipped the pen in the ink again, to give his view.

Darcy closed his eyes, sorting out the images spinning in his mind. Bingley had defended Miss Bennet after the assembly dance. He called her an angel. During their entire stay, Bingley had been drawn to Miss Bennet's side, regardless of the situation. He even carried her scarf at all times; many times, it was visible sticking out of his coat pocket. However, when Bingley had danced with only Miss Bennet at his ball, Darcy knew his friend was more serious than he had been with any flirtation in the past. Sir William validated his fears with the admission of the neighborhood assumptions to the impending marriage between the two.

Drumming his fingers on the desk, Darcy stared at an invisible object in the distance. Only he could see the outline of a woman in a pale yellow gown moving gracefully to the music. Catching himself, he shook his head so slightly that only someone standing directly across from him would have caught sight of the movement. Yes, it was at the Netherfield ball when he realized the extent of Bingley's attachment, and that the opinion of the society in Meryton was of an upcoming engagement. He recalled every occurrence when Bingley and Miss Bennet were together, and could not discern a single hint of her particular preference for him. "Was I wrong?" The image of Miss Bennet and Elizabeth sharing secrets emerged. "She would know her sister's feelings. And if she believes differently, then... or was it not the Bennets' need for a wealthy connection?"

Darcy dipped his pen in the inkwell and proceeded to address her understanding of the situation.

If you have not been mistaken here, I must have been in an error. Your superior knowledge of your sister must make the latter probable.---If it be so, if I have been misled by such error, to inflict pain on her, your resentment has not been unreasonable. But I shall not scruple to assert that the serenity of your sister's countenance and air was such as might have given the most acute observer a conviction that, however amiable her temper, her heart was not likely to be easily touched.---

Leaning back in the chair, Darcy shook his head. "I acted as a true friend to Bingley. I will not allow another friend to fall prey to a schemer, whether it would be the woman, such as Rawlings' wife, or a mercenary mother, like Mrs. Bennet. I will defend myself in this matter." He returned to putting words on the paper.

That I was desirous of believing her indifferent is certain,---but I will venture to say that my investigations and decisions are not usually influenced by my hopes or fears.---I did not believe her to be indifferent because I wished it;---I believed it on impartial conviction, as truly as I wished it in reason.---

"Was I vain to write this?" He reread the words. "No. She spoke in anger when she called me vain. She knows I am proud, and I do not see that as a fault. However, did she acknowledge everything her sister felt? Her mother demonstrated her mercenary ways. Did she not find a way to keep Elizabeth from meeting with Blake? I do not doubt it was Mrs. Bennet's doing. She heard me accuse Blake of being penniless." Darcy ran his hand through his hair several times, releasing a deep sigh with each completed motion. "Elizabeth, you do not know everything, and your sister is not as independent as you. Your mother may have been pushing the connection, and she is not as strong as you, and could not refuse."

Darcy shuddered, sighed and then returned to his letter, writing words he knew would cause Elizabeth pain. He meticulously explained her family's improper behaviors, although he did praise her and her sister. And he did mention how Bingley would not be hurt by the lack of family connections except for... Darcy's head shot up like a wilted flower in a rainstorm. "Mr. Gardiner. I must also address his dishonorable ways."

Glaring at the letter for several minutes, he decided to address his own family members first, before exposing hers. And the family member in question was his own dear, sweet sister. Darcy rose from his seat and moved to the window. He pulled back the drapes and peered out into the blackness of the night. He recalled that day in Ramsgate when he discovered George Wickham at the house he had leased for his sister. He closed his eyes and remembered how Georgiana cried when he had his old nemesis removed. "I must warn her. Elizabeth cannot be left defenseless from his charm even if... Georgiana will understand."

He returned to the desk and began his next defense---that of Wickham and his relationship to the Darcy family. He explained about their childhood and their growing independence from one another. He wrote in detail about the living and the payment made to Wickham.

Pausing to take a large drink from his refilled glass, he attempted to select the best words to describe his sister's behavior. He knew Elizabeth was honorable, and would never speak of the truth, so he began the lengthy confession that he had never shared with anyone. Richard knew, of course. Darcy stopped, stood and finished his brandy.

"Richard, you scoundrel." Darcy stomped around the room for a quarter of an hour, not caring if the carpet muffled the sounds of his boots. His eyes grew dark and when he looked at the door to the hallway, his stare became a mixture of cold and fire. "I am positive you told Elizabeth about my detaching Bingley. I have spoken this only to Rawlings and you, Richard. You, who knew the truth, did this to me. Why did you do it? Why? I will charge you with your betrayal later."

After draining the last of the brandy into his glass, a calmer Darcy returned to his writing. He finished the explanation about how his sister had only a year ago attempted to elope with Wickham, whose purpose was not love but revenge. He pieced together the words without emotion, otherwise he would have used inappropriate language---those vulgar words that presented themselves whenever the thought of that cur surfaced. He finished quickly, and did not bother to reread the painful words written on the page.

"Three more accusations to go. I shall address Blake next." Before he wrote the first word, he rang for his man and handed him the empty decanter. While he waited, he stood at the window, gazing at the darkness. The image of the little children reappeared, but this time they were joined by a fair-haired man, holding their hands. The servants were calling him "Your Grace."

He thought about what he should say about Blake as he recalled her questions. ‘Did you detach your friend, Lord Blake, from me as well? Did you persuade him to leave Netherfield Park and never to contact me again? Are you the conductor of every friend's life?'

"Conductor? Humph. She does not know how much effort I expended keeping out of his way. I could have..."

With a smile on his face, he mended his pen before setting it to the letter. Darcy had assumed months ago that Mrs. Bennet was the one who had deceived Blake. He remembered clearly the moment she had opened the balcony door, and which part of the conversation she overheard. She had left, believing Blake was destitute, or at least penniless, and never learned his friend had resources of his own. Perhaps, he should have told Blake about Mrs. Bennet's eavesdropping, but he reasoned that if Elizabeth's mother discouraged the union, it would only be for mercenary reasons. He had no qualms with concealing the truth to her about what happened that night on the balcony. This was different than keeping Miss Bennet's visit secret from Bingley. He dipped his pen in the ink and carefully wrote the next words.

I was neither a party to, nor the reason for, any sudden disinterest between my friend, Lord Blake, and you. Nevertheless, I am aware he went to Longbourn the day after the ball only to discover, by your own mother's words, you had left that morning for London because---and here I will try to quote my friend accurately---you wished to avoid him. I only convinced my friend to leave for London himself, as there seemed no reason for him to stay. I do not know what actions he took once we arrived in town.

Sighing, Darcy pressed his lips together, mended his pen, dipped it in the ink and controlled the slight tremble in his hand. He would address the issue of his alleged mockery.

Your accusation of my total disregard of your family based on a request for a book on Gas Lighting was woefully misplaced. While I cannot go into detail without betraying confidences, I will admit, I was at that time pursuing new investments. Gas lighting was of particular interest to me. Having seen Mr. Bennet's excellent library, and having had several judicious conversations about progress with him, I merely suspected he might be in possession of such material. I now understand your abruptness at leaving that day when I requested you to ask your father for such a book. Please understand, I meant no offense at that request.

He held his head in his hand as he knew of all the accusations, the next one would be the hardest for her to hear. He must be truthful if he wanted his name cleared, and there was nothing left except his good name. He understood no person wanted to admit their family member is dishonorable; even he would not want to discover this about his own relatives. He recollected the particular part of their conversation dealing with the matter. They were standing close; she with her back to the window, and he, just inches away. Hours later, he still felt the heat of her glare as he remembered how she accused him of misunderstanding. The words rang in his ears.

"Mr. Darcy, why do you call my uncle dishonest? What gives you the right to slander such a good man?" Elizabeth had asked.

He had tried to be truthful without revealing his disgust and merely said, "He hides his deceitfulness by blaming them on Mr. Cuffage."

"Mr. Cuffage. You, sir, are the one woefully mistaken. That evil man caused my father to lose his investment in the Gas Light Company---not my uncle Gardiner." Her eyes bore into his with a defiance he had only been a party to once, years before---Wickham accusing him of lying about the living. However, he believed Wickham's defiance was a ploy, while Elizabeth's attitude was misguided.

Darcy sat at his writing table, tapping his fingers on the desktop. He stared at the blank section of the page where he would have to provide his position. As he lifted the pen, her final assault upon his person echoed in his mind.

Elizabeth's eyes had turned very dark, and with her shoulders straight, sputtered the most unforgiveable accusation when she said, By calling my uncle dishonest you, sir, are no gentleman!"

He remembered exactly how she glared menacingly at him. He had never witnessed such hatred from anyone, with the exception of Wickham. With him, he did not give a damn, but her feelings mattered. He wrote,

Nevertheless, I am saddened to report I had been informed that it was your uncle, not Mr. Cuffage, who caused the problem with the investment. If you have not been mistaken here, I must have been in error, but unlike your superior knowledge of your sister's feelings, I do not believe my understanding is false. I am sorry to inflict pain on you, and I understand your resentment of what appeared to be a callous request, but I merely believe your father has not shared the whole story, choosing instead to shield you from the odious truth.

There, he said it, and in writing. Refusing to reread the letter, he finished it with, "God bless you," and signed his name,

Fitzwilliam Darcy.

He did not sleep that night, preferring to gaze out the window where the slimmest view of the church steeple could be seen. He had spent many evenings searching for a just the smallest glimpse of her among the trees. Only once before had he witnessed someone in the woods, but quickly realized it was merely his aunt's gardener. Every so often, he would gaze at the sealed letter on the desk, and then close his eyes tightly in an attempt to shut out the image of her eyes, her face and her hands.

His valet prepared him for the day swiftly after Darcy summoned him. Ignoring his man's slight raise of the brow at the sight of his untouched bed, he hurried with his dressing, picked up the letter and left the room.

He found a strategic location to stand and wait for her, as the sun rose behind him. He waited for hours while he replayed every word spoken the day before. Knowing which was her favorite walk, he rested by a tree with a clear view of the lane, hoping today she would not try to avoid her preferred path. And so it was, when he spied her peeking into the park at the entrance gate, and she was on the point of continuing her walk, he moved her way. He stepped forward, calling her name, and then watched with sadness as her shoulders first slumped, then regained their proud position as she turned and faced him.

He caught up to her, held out the letter, and felt relief when she graciously took it from his hand. "I have been walking in the grove some time in the hope of meeting you. Will you do me the honor of reading that letter?" His voice betrayed his desire to be unemotional, and his haughtiness rang in his ears.

With a slight bow and not another word spoken, he turned again, and never looked back.

Chapter 46

Posted on December 23, 2008

Darcy was the first to enter the carriage, as Richard finished the proper civilities to his aunt and cousin for leaving. Darcy glowered as Richard bowed. Damn him and his bloody charm.

Richard seated himself as Darcy gave the signal to go. They began their journey in silence. The Colonel stared as Darcy retrieved The Vine and The Oak, from his collection of poems from his satchel. Darcy ignored his cousin and began to read the poem again. Having identified himself and Elizabeth in the prose, he wondered about the direction the next verse took. He had put it aside many weeks ago, and today he sought the words; he needed to discover what happened to the vine and, more importantly, the oak.

A vine from noblest lineage sprung
And with the choicest clusters hung,
In purple rob'd, reclining lay,
And catch'd the noontide's fervid ray;
The num'rous plants that deck the field
Did all the palm of beauty yield;
Pronounc'd her fairest of their train
And hail'd her empress of the plain.
A neighb'ring oak whose spiry height
In low-hung clouds was hid from sight,
Who dar'd a thousand howling storms;
Conscious of worth, sublimely stood,
The pride and glory of the wood.

Passing the parsonage, he caressed the paper with his fingers as he looked out the window, hoping for once last glimpse of Elizabeth. When she did not appear, he sighed deeply, and read the next verse.

Darcy furrowed his brow. Wickham. I pray she is no longer defenseless when it comes to that scoundrel. And yes, ‘twas love I felt, and feel even still. He continued his reading.

No longer wishing to continue, Darcy folded the poem and placed it in his coat pocket. It speaks the truth, I urged my suit in vain. In vain I struggled. In vain I lost. She prefers the flowery words and blasted charm of lesser men.

He focused his attention on his cousin. Every attempt he made to converse was met with silent, dark and brooding expressions. Although he did notice his cousin fidget, Richard did not divert his eyes from any attempts to intimidate him and, as a military man well trained at defending himself, he simply glared back.

Darcy opened a book while Richard did not utter a sound or offer a smile, and for the first half of the trip, the two men sat thusly---one reading and the other seething. Darcy may have turned the pages, but he did not fool the other passenger. He had not read a single word. Still he kept his head down and his hands steady.

Richard chuckled, causing Darcy to lift his head. "What is it? What exactly are you smiling and chuckling about?"

"Well, you."

"How wonderful that I give you such pleasure." Darcy sneered, no longer caring to control his emotions.

"I did not say you give me pleasure at all. You have rarely done that."

"What? You say the most outlandish things. Explain yourself."

"Very well, since you have asked so pleasantly. You do as you wish and leave it up to me to follow. I understand how it works. In the army, the general barks the commands and I, the colonel, carry them out. In this society, you are the general and I am nothing greater than a private."

"Humph. I have never treated you in such a way."

"Humph! Not true, cousin. Not true. Why, this trip alone, you ignored any thought of my needs. Even a general worries about his lowliest soldiers."

"I suppose you will elaborate on this falsehood."

"Ha! I normally do not, preferring to keep my favored place in your house, but since you have issued this invitation in such a delightful tone, I will take the opportunity to shed some sunlight on your cold and dark world."

Darcy settled back in his seat and appeared to show some curiosity. Richard steeled himself, knowing full well that Darcy House and Pemberley may be lost to him forever. Lost to him forever. What was it Miss Elizabeth said? Oh yes, once his good opinion is lost, it is lost forever. Now is my turn to be on his list of unworthy subjects.

Richard sighed deeply. "Promise me, Darcy, you will not throw me out until we reach the outskirts of London."

"You exaggerate so." Darcy rolled his eyes, and when his cousin sat silently, he added, "But if I must, I promise."

"I had made plans to spend several weeks in London before I had to return to my battalion. They were important weeks for me. You see, I will be leaving for the Continent shortly."

Darcy attempted to conceal his gasp of surprise.

"You had not given that possibility a single moment's thought. Well, I wished to spend time in those very parts of town where you do not go. I wanted to drink, eat, gamble, laugh, and yes," Richard looked at Darcy with a smirk and said happily, "flirt around."

Darcy gasped.

"I wanted to have my enjoyment in the arms of some of the city's most luscious women. Do not act so supercilious." Richard laughed. "What? Are you surprised that I know such a large word? Of course, only you are capable of intelligent thought and five syllable words." Richard grunted and then paused.

"Do not stop," Darcy demanded. "If you have more to say, then say it."

"You never consider me when you change plans. Do not look at me so; it has always been this way. You do as you please, and my lot in life is to follow behind without saying a word. Salute is what we call it in the army. Well, I shall salute you no more." Richard leaned back into his seat and turned his head away from Darcy.

Darcy lowered his eyes. Taking a few deep breaths, he then cleared his throat until Richard looked his way. "I am sorry. I did not think you had plans. You did not share your news about leaving for the Continent." Darcy paused. "Why did you not?"

"You never seemed interested in my life---only yours and Georgiana's. "Still, I try my best to always look out for her, and you, cousin."

"Humph! Look out for me? Did you learn how to utter such fabrications in the Army?"

Richard's brows shot upwards at his cousin's venomous tone. "When have I not?"

Darcy leaned forward, and without a single blink said, "When you betrayed me by revealing a recent confidence between us. You deliberately spoke ill of me, but presented it in a humorous manner, of that I am sure. You hide behind your humor. I can well imagine your disloyal words."

"What are you referring to? I would never betray a member of my own family."

"You spoke to Miss Elizabeth about my saving Mr. Bingley."

"Oh. I assumed it was him when I spoke to her about your triumph."

"But did you know it was her sister that he was infatuated with? Ah, yes. From the coloring of your complexion, I can see you did suspect it. Why, then, did you reveal a confidence?"

"You spoke of no secrecy." Richard brushed his sleeve with his hand. "When Bingley's name came up in conversation, I merely expounded on your superior abilities to oversee everyone's lives."

"You deliberately tried to show me in a poor light, and succeeded in causing me no small amount of harm."

"I do not feel any remorse for your harm. Stepping down from the pedestal would serve you better.

"Why?"

"Oh, let me explain. Your chin is raised so high, that coupled with your height, you cannot help but present a picture of a man peering down at everyone. Unfortunately, this is exactly how you view others. When surrounded by men you admire, you relax your shoulders, lower your whole head, and smile when you speak. But for the rest of the world, you are different. You present a... what do they call it? Yes, a noble mien, and that his how you maintain your sense of superiority. Furthermore, if anyone not of your close acquaintance utters a single word your way, or someone says something you do not find worthy, you merely humph."

"Humph."

"Even now you cannot help yourself." Richard chuckled. "I always believed it was because all the Fitzwilliams say the damn word out of habit, but you use the word as a form of intimidation."

"Humph!" Darcy uttered the word with emphasis.

"Your chin is higher now than when the conversation started. You prove my point. I am beneath you. Your father did not think so, or else he would not have made me co-guardian of Georgiana. Yet, my word has no sway with you. Today, I am not at all fond of you."

"Unless you explain why you acted as you did, then I am not fond of you today either."

"I merely wanted to be in town, and you selfishly kept me from it. It was not a betrayal so much as a weapon in my arsenal. I must use what I possess in order to gain what I want. And I longed for London, and you kept delaying our return because of her. Thus, I believed only she could make you wish to leave."

"You knew?"

Richard rolled his eyes. "Yes. I imagine Aunt Catherine suspects as well. Anne recognized the desire in your eyes whenever you looked at pretty young lady from Hertforshire; we even joked about it. But as I said, I merely wanted to leave, and the only way was through Miss Elizabeth.

"You were successful; she rejected my proposal. She will not marry me."

Richard scoffed. "You offered marriage? Marriage to her? She is a nobody. She has no fortune and no family connections important enough for you. I am shocked you actually proposed marriage. I... "

"What did you think I would offer?"

"I thought you were looking for a mistress. I never once thought you sought marriage. You never share your thoughts with anyone. How was I supposed to know? Well, she has charms, I agree, but she does not possess the status to become Mistress of Pemberley. Surely you must see that."

"With my wealth, I can offer wherever I choose."

"Sometimes you shock even me. I like Miss Bennet, and she was another reason I shared the information. I did not wish to see her put in an anxious situation. I... thought if she was angry, she would be able to thwart your overtures, if you approached her in that way." Richard shook his head and creased his brow. "But with you choosing someone so below you, does this mean you would approve of Mr. Kent marrying Georgiana?"

"What do you know of Kent?" Darcy said brusquely.

"Perhaps I should keep silent and not---"

"Speak your mind! What is it that concerns you? What do you believe has happened?"

"You should learn not to interrupt! It is most ungentleman-like and proves my point of how you believe you are superior to others. You are selective as to who you interrupt."

"Blast it. I must know! And do not drag this out, Richard. I warn you. Today is not a day to test my temperament."

"Oh, well, perhaps I should just remain silent and deal with Kent myself. I share the guardianship, and I do not have to ask your permission any more than you ever ask mine. As I said, your father made me an equal in that regard."

"I am in no mood for your silly games."

"Humph." Richard turned to gaze out the window. He sighed at the unchanging, mundane landscape. "You friend has been showing signs of interest in Georgiana. That is unacceptable, Darcy. He is a tradesman's son; the family will never approve. My father will take every action to thwart any attempts he might make to obtain her hand. Kent needs to be stopped, for his sake as well as hers."

"Oh, is that all? I had planned to speak with him upon my return." Darcy settled back in his seat, relaxing his body. "What exactly happened to cause such an alarm? At first, I suspected he had made an offer of some kind by your earlier remark, but now I am puzzled."

"I have witnessed several situations where Georgiana has defended him. However, one event in particular bothers me the most." Richard waited until given the nod to continue. Darcy leaned forward with his wrists pressing on his thighs. "One day, as I was escorting her and my sister on a walk in Hyde Park, your friend had deliberately hid along her normal path. He was laying in wait for her."

Darcy furrowed his brow, but remained silent while he waited for Richard to continue.

"With all my training, I easily spied him long before we came to his hiding spot. I, of course, never left Georgiana's side. Georgiana would not allow any subject except the virtues of one Mr. Kent to be discussed. I caught him winking at her, and she returned it with a conspiratorial-like smile. Victoria can attest to all I related. She had noticed him hiding too. Neither of us seemed surprised when he appeared."

"You do not need to involve yourself. I will speak to Kent immediately upon my return."

Richard watched Darcy's expression change from a furrowed brow of deep concern to the muscles tightening in anger as he assumed his cousin was visualizing the encounter. He hid his own smile, pleased to return to the role of the good guardian.

Relieved when his cousin departed for his own home, Darcy entered his London townhouse with the intent of spending an hour or two considering all the accusations addressed to him. But before he could escape to his bedchambers, Geoffries impeded his progress.

At once, they left for his study, where Geoffries expounded upon Kent's frequent visits with Georgiana, their constant walks, and how Georgiana and Lady Victoria had persuaded Mr. Kent to go shopping on several occasions along with his own sister. Geoffries handed him the list of the mail received by Georgiana. Darcy became alarmed when he read Miss Susan Kent's name repeatedly, both for incoming and outgoing letters.

Darcy penned a message for immediate dispatch to Kent's home, requesting him to come as soon as possible.

"Geoffries, when was the last time Miss Kent visited?"

"Today, sir. In fact, she is in the music room with Miss Darcy as we speak."

"Now?" Darcy rose from his chair.

"Yes, sir." Geoffries words had been barely spoken when his master left the room.

Darcy's long legs carried him down the hallway, up the stairs, and toward the music room with such swiftness, the servants backed up against the walls to give him room to pass. Although the servants spoke no words, their eyes widened as they sensed trouble ahead.

"Georgiana! I am home." Darcy burst into the music room.

His sister's fingers froze on the keys of the last note played.

Miss Kent leaned over and whispered to the motionless young girl. Slowly they rose to greet him.

Georgiana's hand shook as she introduced her brother to her new friend. "Miss Kent has been so kind to visit with me while you have been at Rosings."

Darcy bowed slightly in response to Miss Kent's slight curtsey. When she lifted her head, he was able to discern the likeness to her brother; both had dark hair and an olive complexion. They shared the same features---high cheekbones, prominent nose, and deep set brown eyes. Her emerald green silk dress was fashionable and suited her. She stood tall with her shoulders back, her back straight, and her chin high. Yes, she is Kent's sister in every way.

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Kent. I hope I did not disturb anything important."

"Not at all. Georgiana was playing a new piece." Susan Kent hid her smirk when Darcy startled at her use of his sister's first name. "It is one she wishes to play for my brother." She released a wide smile when she noticed his neck muscles tighten.

"I would not wish to keep her from practicing, but I did have a desire to speak with her... about my trip." Darcy remained standing while he waited until the two girls said their good-byes and Miss Kent left.

Georgiana turned around, and with a newly discovered resolve, asked sharply, "Why did you speak so brusquely with my friend."

"Why did you not tell me you had met Miss Kent?"

"Must I receive your permission?"

"Yes!" Darcy glowered. "You are too young to choose the right associations. Miss Kent is..."

"She is a lovely lady. She is most kind and has wonderful stories. Why can I not choose my own friends?"

"Because I will never take my role as guardian as lightly as I did before. All social activities must first be approved by me!"

"You treat me as a child!"

"You are a child, and I am responsible for you. I cannot, and will not, let you fall into another schemer's trap."

"She is not a schemer! I am not the same foolish girl from last year. I will speak to Richard."

"Do not think you can hide behind Richard's uniform. He will be even more adamant than I am. We spoke about your growing attraction with Mr. Kent, and we have agreed to put an end to it. Now I discover you kept your acquaintance with his sister a secret, and that is reason enough for me to end your friendship with her."

"You speak of my attraction to Kent? Humph. You do not know of which you speak. I knew you did not trust me! I... I... I hate you." Georgiana sobbed and ran from the room.

Upon receiving the message, Kent assumed Darcy wanted to speak about the delayed trip to visit his family's manufactory. So, without haste, and with no knowledge of his sister's visit earlier, he arrived at Darcy House and promptly entered the study. He stepped backwards when the master of the house raised his head from the reading of some documents, revealing eyes that had turned black and directed at him.

"I demand to know what your intentions are towards Miss Darcy."

Snapping into rigid stance, Kent lifted his chin, and with a sneer, said, "I will not answer you when you speak to me in such a manner. I am not Bingley, who you have reduced to a cowering, simpering fool of a man." He took a few steps forward. "I am not afraid of you."

"You will leave my sister alone. You are nothing but a sycophant. I will not let you latch on to my world through her."

"Latch onto your world? Bah. You may keep it. Ever since we have been partners, I have grown to despise everything about your world. The upper classes are made up of lazy, rich men that prefer to idle their way in meaningless activities. If people of my stature were to sit around all day and drink, gamble and become involved in debaucheries and seductions with women of ill-repute, this country would cease to exist." Kent took another step closer. "We are the ones creating its wealth these days. We will be the ones creating the future. We will look down upon the likes of you."

Darcy rose and raised his body to his full height. Before he could speak, Kent moved another step closer and shouted, "You are a self centered cur. You are arrogant beyond reason. You are not an aristocrat, such a Blake, and you are not as wealthy as I will be in two years. You have no cause to treat me as one would treat dirt beneath their fingernails, solely because I prefer not to be a gentleman farmer!

Darcy opened his mouth to speak.

"No, I shall interrupt you this time. You do not get a chance to speak until I have finished my thought." When Darcy nodded, Kent continued. "You think everyone is after your money or your good name. Well, keep it. I would not have it if you forced it upon me. You will scare away every man that seeks Georgiana's favor. She is doomed to a spinster's life unless, of course, you write a contract with some idiot with a title and money of his own. You do not care for your sister."

"Do not speak to me about my sister."

"I will speak to you any way I want to. I am one man you cannot control and manipulate to your desires."

"I do not manipulate, Kent.

"Bah! You are a fool, as Rawlings once charged if you truly believe that. You manipulate everyone that crosses your path."

"For example?"

"Blake."

"Blake? How the hell did I manipulate him?"

"You never told him the truth about Mrs. Bennet. Yes, I know all about the balcony scene. I was there, off to the side. I had gone out for a breath of fresh air, after a long evening in hot, sticky clothes. Blake and Miss Elizabeth soon appeared, and before I could say anything, they spoke in terms I should have not have heard. I could not embarrass them by showing myself then. So, you see, I know what you did."

"And what, pray, was that?"

"You never told Blake about Mrs. Bennet only hearing a part of his situation, the part where you accused him of being penniless. In fact I believe you mentioned his financial situation only after you noticed Mrs. Bennet standing at the door. I noticed the glint in your eye and the smirk upon your face when she appeared. That is when you decided to use her to help keep her daughter away from him. Had Blake known who was listening behind him, he might have acted differently that day."

"How do you know how he acted? You were in already in London."

"There are many things shared outside of your ears. I will not tell you how I know, but be aware that I know all about it. You never set him straight. I assumed that it was because you wanted her for yourself. Jealousy does make for unsound judgments. You managed the entire mess."

Darcy opened his mouth to speak until Kent raised his open palm.

"Again, I will not let you interrupt me." Kent paused until Darcy gave him the signal to continue. "I doubt you even know that you are so guilty of interrupting others. Humph! Did you know you utter that very sound whenever you are not pleased with the conversation? Nevertheless, I digress, shall we discuss Bingley now? Shall I explain how you manipulate him?" He waited until Darcy nodded. "You call him your dearest friend, and yet you ruined forever his chance for happiness."

Darcy pressed his lips tightly together.

"You talked him out of his plans to marry Miss Bennet. She loved him; that I know. I tried to talk sense into him, but, unfortunately, only your judgment was of any value to him. Rawlings tried too. I have no idea if Blake and Bingley ever commiserated with each other. Two men, destroyed by you. Well, Rawlings was only fortunate that his wife died, otherwise he would still be living in hell because of your selfish actions."

"You heard something about Margaret Stevens and me?"

"It is a gossipy place, London. Everyone is aware of it. You are so vain you do not think anyone can be smarter than you are. Miss Bingley heard what happened, and when you did not return her attentions, it was not long before all of London knew. She has been very busy since we left Netherfield. I tried to convince her it would not be wise to meddle with a Darcy, but she is, as they say, a woman scorned. All the particulars are hazy, but it is understood you allowed another supposed good friend to live with your mistake."

"This time you have gone too far, Kent. You are only correct in that you do not know the whole story."

"Perhaps, but I know enough to realize why Rawlings was included in the alliance. He had nothing to bring. I am not a fool."

"Humph."

Kent shook his head when Darcy did not realize he had uttered his familiar grunt. "I suspect you treat your cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam as an underling as well. Did he have to wait until you were ready to return? Georgiana mentioned he had made plans with her. Did you even bother to tell him you were delaying your trip? When you extended your stay, you did not send word to me."

Darcy sucked in a quick breath.

"Oh! You forgot our plans to go north? Or did you deem the trip as unimportant? You still think my kind and I are beneath you, so much so, you cared not what my Aunt had prepared for you. The Kent family is not up to your status; we are not your kind. Yes, Darcy, my kind. When you attended the Lunar Society Meeting at Bingley's, did you show any kindness to my sister?"

"I was not introduced to her."

"I arrived late and assumed you had been introduced. Bingley would have done so if you had asked. See? We are not worth your trouble. I am rich, and on my thirtieth birthday, I will be extremely wealthy; so rich, in fact, there has already been talk of knighthood. I would be Sir to you, and then you would be required to walk behind . . . me!"

"Humph. Then you will be a member of that horrible upper class you said you so despise. Even as a knighted man, I would not permit your marriage to my sister."

"Poor Miss Darcy. She has no chance."

"Not with you, Kent. I will never allow it."

"See, you have jumped to a conclusion that has never existed. You once accused Miss Elizabeth of willfully misunderstanding everyone, but you must own to that particular trait. She may do so as well, but not out of malice, only inexperience. You assumed, just because I was friendly to your sister, I wanted her fortune."

"I learned of your pending wealth at Bingley's dinner. Money has nothing to do with my decisions for my sister. But what is your agenda? You have one, and I have believed it for a long time now."

"You want to know the truth?" Kent waited

Darcy nodded.

"First, it is true I attached myself on to you as closely as a leech would affix itself to a dying man. Bingley and I were friends long before we attended Cambridge together. Once there, I did manipulate events for the sole purpose of ingratiating myself with you. Yes, I do have an agenda, and I am also skilled at manipulation; but it is not about you, your fortune, your name or even your sister."

Hearing Darcy scoff, Kent pointed to the chairs, inviting him to sit.

Darcy agreed with a nod, and after he sat down, he crossed his arms, and waited, while Kent attempted to compose his words.

"I have been in love with Lady Victoria ever since the day she visited Cambridge with your family."

"Victoria?" Darcy dropped his jaw.

"Yes. Everything I have done, I have done to win her. I believed my association with you would be the simplest path to gaining her hand. Surprisingly, it was not you, but your sister that helped me meet her. That is all. Miss Darcy is adept at spotting angst in another person. She called me on it right away."

Kent paused, and then narrowed his eyes and glared at Darcy. "Your sister is a sensitive soul, and one day I will challenge you to treat her in a more deserving fashion. I have grown fond of her, as an older brother or cousin would."

Darcy grasped the arms of the chair, but otherwise he remained quiet, allowing Kent to continue.

"Once, your sweet sister delivered a rose to Lady Victoria for me, and I admit this is not exactly honorable, but I sent Lady Victoria letters through my sister. Susan sent them to Georgiana, who in turn snuck them to your cousin. And before you bark at me, yes; I did introduce my sister to Miss Darcy. They have become friends. We felt it best to conceal my feelings about Lady Victoria from you, and now I see that I was correct. And I admit I introduced Susan to Georgiana secretly. It is obvious that you would never let her associate with a tradesman's daughter. Of course, that would be other than Miss Bingley, but then I assume in that case you could not find a way to avoid it. Do not look so. Remember, you did not bother to even speak to my sister at the Lunar Society dinner. I am surprised you spoke to any of the attendees."

"I admire the people that attended that dinner. And I would not keep her from friendship with your sister as long as I am confident the purpose is not for deceitful reasons. I have no problem associating or socializing with the Kent family."

"Not true; you cut me one evening. You cannot imagine how I felt when you, Miss Darcy and Lady Victoria left for the theater when we first returned from Netherfield. You left me behind without so much as a by-your-leave. From that moment, I despised everything about your kind. You take what you want and then ignore us."

Darcy leaned forward. "To willfully misunderstand is another trait we share. You have done the same."

"How so?

"That night my uncle requested I take Victoria to the theater, and demanded none of my friends attend with us. I suspect he was trying to protect her from Blake, but I agreed. So, you see, you are also culpable of misunderstanding the situation, and are guilty of assuming the worst.

Kent shrugged. "You could have told me. I would have understood. I would have helped you keep those two separated."

"You did not give me the benefit of doubt."

"And you could have given me the benefit of the doubt. There never was anything between your sister and me. That is the truth."

Darcy puzzled over a thought for a moment. "So your antagonism to Blake was---"

"Because of the cruel way he treated Lady Victoria. How I hated him. How I hate him still. I have tried to put it all aside, but I cannot. I do not know if you are aware that he has moved on to another lady, a Miss Godwin. They would make a good match. She has standing and money. I do not believe she has a heart either."

"About Blake. You are not aware of the whole story between him and Victoria. He is worthy of your respect. I cannot divulge a confidence, but I ask that you trust me in this regard. I know you find that hard to do today; I implore you to try."

"To use your word... humph!"

Darcy opened his mouth, shut it and then opened it again. "Kent, my uncle will never allow a connection to his daughter with a tradesman's son. Whatever you thought my beliefs were, they are multiplied tenfold with him."

"It does not matter; she is of age. He will come around, I suspect, if my plan works. I doubt he would choose to disown her, once my place in society has been gained."

"I warn you, he is not easily swayed. I have never succeeded on any subject." Darcy twisted his ring around his finger as he contemplated a new concern. "Will you be leaving the alliance?"

"Of course not. Regardless of any disagreement subsisting between us, I always honor my signed contracts. And, I will proceed with my plan for knighthood. The alliance will speed it up; two years is a long time to wait to start the process." Kent laughed as Darcy smiled. "We are much alike, I think. We own many of the same personal characteristics."

"Oh?"

"We are stubborn men who expect everyone to accept us without reason."

Darcy tapped the arms of the chair and then pointed his finger at himself. "This stubborn man needs to be alone for a while. By that, I mean days, not minutes. I need to consider everything everyone has said."

"Everyone?"

"Yes. You, my cousin Richard, and Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

Kent's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"She was at Rosings. I am surprised you did not possess that little piece of information. You seemed to be aware of everything else. I admit it; she is what held my interest. I had the chance to be with her with no Blake to get in the way."

"Oh. No wonder you forgot about me. I understand better. Still..."

"Yes, it was unforgivable of me not to send word about the delay."

"Unforgivable is a strong word. Perhaps rude is a better one. You forgive rudeness all the time. I, too, understand the power unrequited desire for a young lady has on a man.

"Thank you. But it is you that forgives my rudeness. I cannot recall a single instance where you were ever rude to me."

"I assume she spoke forcibly?"

Darcy nodded. "Yes, and with great gusto and verbosity."

"Ah. Well, I will leave you then to sort it all out. Nevertheless, remember all that I said. I warn you that if you do not change your ways, then life will become as you see it. No one will ever want to connect themselves to you for any reason other than money or name. Do not let it be so."

Kent left quietly as Darcy followed behind and directed Geoffries to stop monitoring Georgiana. As Darcy headed to his study, where he kept the last two bottles of Oban scotch whiskey, he overheard Kent at the front door greeting the one man he did not wish to see.

Chapter 47

Posted on December 30, 2008

"Blake." Kent straightened his hat and smoothed his jacket as he descended the steps at Darcy House. "You rode the Andalusian. As I have said before, he is a mighty fine piece of horseflesh, and I will admit I am jealous."

"My invitation still stands. I insist you play on my golf course this summer." Blake patted the horse's neck, and with a twinkle in his eye added, "I can teach you how to perform certain strokes better, and the two of us can challenge Bingley and Rawlings. Darcy is just horrid at putting, and I would not handicap Bingley that way."

"Perhaps we could spot Bingley some extra strokes to compensate for Darcy as his partner. Ten strokes would be my guess."

"More like twenty! What brings you to Darcy House? Is he in?"

"Yes, but he is in as foul a mood as I have ever seen."

"His visit to his aunt's did not go well?"

Kent shrugged. How should I tell him? Damn. Why did I not just let him find out for himself? I am an idiot. Damn.

"What is wrong? Is something amiss with the alliance? Does he need either of my uncles to take action?"

"No, nothing of the sort. While I was not told our conversation was confidential, I feel it is a private matter between us."

"An argument, I assume." Blake leaned down and in a half-whisper asked, "Does he suspect your interest in his little sister?"

"You, too? Good God, why does everyone think I could be interested in a little girl?"

"Oh. I beg your pardon. I noticed your particular attention to her lately, and I am truly sorry for my pompous manner. I misspoke, and I do apologize."

"Do not worry so. Darcy suspected I took an interest in her too. He truly does overreact sometimes. I suspect it was because he returned home in a horrible mood." Suddenly worried that he was deliberately trying to create a problem, Kent put his hand over his mouth. Blast, can I not keep my own mouth shut?

Blake dismounted in one fluid motion. "You must tell me what is wrong!"

Kent looked down at his boots. "Miss Elizabeth was staying with Miss Charlotte Lucas, well, Mrs. Collins now."

"Which one is Mrs. Collins?" Blake asked with a sharp tone in his voice.

"Miss Lucas. He had some awful row with her."

"With Mrs. Collins?"

"No! Miss Bennet."

"Miss Elizabeth Bennet?"

"Yes, of course! Did I not just say she was visiting Mrs. Collins?" Kent paused. "Apparently she was forceful in her words."

"Miss Elizabeth or Mrs. Collins?"

"Miss Elizabeth!" Kent shook his head in disbelief. Can he not keep up with the conversation?

Catching his breath, Blake glanced at the door and then back to Kent. "Would you be so kind to excuse me? I need to speak to Darcy."

"Wait, Blake. I was not privileged to know what transpired, but I caution you to leave him alone. I spoke harshly to him earlier. I attacked his character and, I believe, so did she."

Blake spun around and glared at Kent. "Was he unforgivably rude to her? I must know. Surely you are aware of my preference for her."

"I believe it was more that she hurt him."

"He must have done something for her to act in such a manner. Excuse me."

Kent worried as Blake bounded up the front stairs and banged on the door. What have I done? Oh, God..

"May I help you, sir?" the doorman asked as he spied the distinguished gentleman standing in front of him.

"I would like to see Mr. Gardiner." Rawlings handed his card to the man, who bowed, and offered the foyer as a place to wait. Rawlings did a quick survey of the room and was surprised by the understated elegance of the room. He had assumed those that had recently improved their fortunes would opt for a gaudy display of their new wealth.

In less than five minutes, a tall, broad shouldered man with gray specks in his hair approached in a hurried manner. "Mr. Rawlings, welcome to my home. This is a great honor."

Rawlings bowed and followed Mr. Gardiner to his study. Once there, Gardiner poured drinks and then politely inquired about his trip.

"I hurried my return to England once I learned of a troubling matter. This passage went well. No British escort this time!" Rawlings remembered that night with a smile. "I hope you received my letters."

"I did indeed, sir. How did you find my old friend, John Astor?"

"He is very well. He is an energetic man; I grew tired just hearing about his trips to the west. He will be enormously successful and possesses a very a grand vision of the future. Although he is a bit brusque at times; I found I liked him very much."

"Yes, Astor is as you say. I fear his tendency to be hardnosed will win out in the end. He never could tolerate anyone who rested on his laurels. He did send me a message about your proposition, but I suspect his wife took charge of it." Gardiner laughed. "He was always focused on the larger aspects of business, never the details."

"I can attest that has not changed." Rawlings hemmed. "I promised him I would meet with you straight away. You see..." He looked down at his hands, cleared his throat and explained, "We were fooled into believing you were..."

"Dishonest? Astor did write about it to me."

"Good. Then perhaps you know the man going by the name of John Cuffage? He is the owner of the New World Cigar and Wine shop on Bond Street. Astor thinks the man is identifying himself under a false name."

"I have been there, and Astor is correct; Cuffage is not his name. I suppose I never knew his real name, but when I collaborated with him years ago, he called himself John Rogers. I was fortunate to learn of his deceitful ways before I was ruined."

"Yes, Astor suggested that is his name too. I have yet to visit my friend, Mr. Darcy. I must leave soon. I sent him a message to warn him of the duplicity. I fear there is some connection between Cuffage and Darcy's steward, Mr. Rogers, since he was the one that recommended we collaborate with Cuffage. But I needed to speak to you first, and I promised Astor to come directly here from the ship." Rawlings was reaching for something in his coat pocket when he caught sight of Mr. Gardiner busy at his desk.

Gardiner rummaged through the drawers, finally finding what he wanted and handed Rawlings a couple of letters. "Perhaps he would accept these from you."

Rawlings took the letters, and upon recognizing them, he jumped up, nearly spilling his drink. "Bloody hell. What is going on?" He stopped abruptly, turned to Gardiner and in a lower voice apologized.

Gardiner stood. "No need. I felt much like you when I was turned from his house."

"What? No, do not tell me more. I will take my leave and speak to Darcy immediately. Something is amiss here." Rawlings gulped his drink, bowed and added, "I would still find it an honor to do business with you." Before Mr. Gardiner could answer, Rawlings pulled a document from his pocket. "Here is the outline of our final plans with Astor. . You, of course, will be a full partner, although I am somewhat doubtful you will want to connect yourself to Mr. Darcy."

"Ah. Do not worry. We all make mistakes when we are young. I am not at the old, wise stage yet, but every day I approach it quicker than I like. Go speak to Mr. Darcy and clear up this matter. My door is open to you anytime. . . and to him, too. This man almost ruined me as well."

As Gardiner escorted Rawlings to the door, he slapped him on the back. "I also look forward to hearing stories of the competition. I believe I paid for it several times."

"Which one of us was your favorite?"

"Why, Mr. Kent of course!"

Rawlings bowed his head. "I shall endeavor to see your losses covered by the profits we shall realize in the future."

"Hear, hear!"

With that, Rawlings climbed aboard his carriage and left for Darcy House.

"I demand to know how she fares." Blake glared at Darcy. "Were you ill-mannered to her in any way?"

"To quote another gentleman, it is none of your concern. Stay out of it."

"I will not!" Blake rose to his full height. "Did you insult her? Or harm her?"

"Of course not! She is perfectly fine, and I assure you she is in full command of her voice."

"What happened? What caused Kent to say you were in a foul mood?" Blake paced about the room, not expecting an answer, until he finally inquired with a softened voice, "Did she ask about me?"

"I am surprised you are interested. Have you not transferred your feelings to Miss Godwin?"

"Miss Godwin? Why are you bringing her up? Transfer my feelings?"

"Atterton's ball! You entertained yourself with her, and the two of you slipped out of sight as we left. Another balcony? Another lady to woo and leave behind? Do you court every pretty woman you meet? Do you always end up on a balcony?"

Blake stood facing Darcy with a puzzled look until the light of remembrance appeared.

"Why do you constantly think ill of me? Can you not give me the benefit of any doubt? Can you not believe in my character or look upon me with respect? I may not have your wealth, but I am an honorable man. I remember the night well. Miss Godwin claimed her dance from some dinner conversation we had at Lord Harrowby's. She then escorted me to the back room, where I met with my uncle and some other Tories. I do not know where she went afterwards; nor did I care. She merely did as was asked of her by Lord Harrowby."

"Oh. I beg your pardon."

"Now will you tell me? Did Eli... Miss Bennet speak of me at all? I must know!"

Studying his friend's concerned expression, Darcy did not know how to begin, so instead of rambling he pointed to the chairs. As he took his seat, he tried to compose the words carefully. He suspected that the moment he revealed the truth to him, Blake would react furiously. Sighing, he sat down and began his answer.

"Yes, she did ask of you. It was all politeness."

Blake gulped his drink, and leaned forward in his seat. "I need to know how she feels about me. Did she indicate in any little way that my company was wanted? Were there any hints as to her leaving Longbourn so suddenly? I know she would not have specifically spoken about that day, but please, tell me everything she said."

Darcy coughed. "No, she merely asked if you were doing well. Blake, think; this all may be for the best. The Bennets have no money, and what connections they have are not honorable. Her family would never be accepted by your father, and he would treat her meanly."

"Phew! I care not what he thinks. I would protect her. She said nothing more?" Gazing at nothing in particular, Blake tapped the arm of the chair and, after a moment, he cleared his throat. "Kent mentioned you two argued. What did you argue over? Did you make some idiotic reference to her dishonest uncle in Cheapside?"

"No, we argued after I asked her to..." Darcy hesitated and then added, "It was in response to a very personal question. She strongly objected to my request. I did not expect her reaction, and the words flew out of our mouths. She was vehemently opposed."

"Vehemently opposed. What did you request of her?" Blake stared at Darcy, shocked that he kept diverting his eyes elsewhere. When Darcy rubbed his forehead and mumbled that he had wanted her to be his, Blake leaned forward and yelled, "Did you... did you ask her to become your...?" Blake's eyes grew wide. "You disgust me. I hope she spit in your eye. What kind of man are you? She is a gentleman's daughter---"

Darcy jumped up. "Calm down. I offered marriage. What kind of man do you believe I am? I offered marriage! Why does everyone think ill of me?"

"Marriage? Dare I turn around in your presence and give you an opportunity to stab my back with a real knife? It could not hurt any worse than this, I assure you. And I called you my friend! I wanted to be like you! "

Darcy retreated to the window. His shoulders slumped, his head hung low.

Blake noticed the change in Darcy's countenance. "Ha! She turned you down."

"Most decidedly."

Blake's eyes lit up. "So perhaps there is still a chance for me then? Perhaps I . . ."

Darcy gulped the remnants in his glass and turned to face Blake. "I know she does not want me. She..."

"What?"

"She did say she wished the whole lot of us from Netherfield Park would rot in..."

"Hell?"

Darcy nodded. "She is not pleased with any of us."

"Damn. She hates us all! I cannot stay here. I must think." Blake set down his drink to leave, but before he could depart, he heard someone's loud footsteps approaching the study.

"Darcy!" Rawlings yelled as he made his way down the hallway.

Worried about how Blake would react to Darcy, Kent had been waiting for him to leave when Rawlings suddenly appeared. He had followed behind him after noticing the anger on his friend's face as Rawlings bounded up the steps two at a time, without speaking to anyone, and burst into the house.

Rawlings marched to the study with Geoffries trailing behind, trying to get around the man, but there was no opportunity. Rawlings' legs were younger and longer.

"Rawlings! You have returned early. My God, is there a problem?" Darcy raced toward his friend.

"I need to speak to you now," Rawlings said as he stormed in the room and slammed the door shut without realizing Kent and Geoffries were close behind him. Blake slid into a chair out of Rawlings' line of vision. He had never witnessed him in such a state as this, and now he was no longer tempted to leave.

Rawlings reached Darcy and poked his finger in his friend's chest. "What the bloody hell is going on? Why did you treat Mr. Gardiner the way you did?"

Darcy pushed Rawlings' hand away. "Sit down and calm yourself. Can I get you a glass of wine, perhaps?"

"No! What you can do is tell me why you treated Mr. Gardiner in the inexcusable way that you did?"

"We spoke of Mr. Gardiner before, Rawlings. Nothing has changed." Darcy raised his tall frame up as tall as he was able. "I am no mood for dramatic hysterics today. ."

"I cannot oblige you. I will speak in any manner I wish today. I will not sit down! I sent you a letter of warning from America, and you should have been on your knees begging for Mr. Gardiner's help."

Feeling the heat from Rawlings' glare, Darcy rose stepped towards his friend. "You sent only one letter." He poked his finger on Rawlings chest. "One damn letter! Why did you not write more often? I should be the one who is angry, since I had no idea of what was happening over there. You were inexcusably rude."

Rawlings knocked Darcy's hand away and sputtered, "Inexcusable?" He shook his head. "That is your character trait. Rudeness is thine name. For your information, I did write a second letter, and it was one of great warning, since it explained the real Mr. Cuffage and the real Mr. Gardiner." Rawlings began to stomp around the room, each step resonating louder, his face burning and his hands repeatedly opening and closing into fists. "Why did you not take heed of my warning? Why did you bar Mr. Gardiner from your home? He had letters from me for you."

Darcy stopped Rawlings forward motion by grabbing his arm. "Did you not hear me? I did not receive a second letter. See for yourself!" Darcy moved swiftly to the desk and started rummaging through his old mail.

Rawlings watched as he quickly flipped through letter after letter. Darcy kept shaking his head, and when he waved his hand over the whole stack, it hit upon the old journal, which fell forward revealing the letter in question. Rawlings knew in that instant Darcy found his letter as his friend's face drained of all color.

Darcy tore it open and read the contents quickly. "Oh my God. Damn." He looked up with the letter shaking in his hand. "I swear, I did not know it was here. See how poorly the address was written. It would have been brought to my attention immediately otherwise. Everyone was instructed to watch for a letter from you. And to be misplaced on my own desk! " He called for his man, who entered instantly. Kent followed behind.

"Geoffries, when did this letter arrive?

He examined the letter. "A few days before you left for Rosings, sir. The messenger said he had just recently determined it was yours after holding it for some period of time. Mr. Rogers studied it and then suggested I place it here with the other mail not considered urgent. We doubted it was even your letter."

"Has Mr. Gardiner called here?"

"Yes, sir. You advised me to send him away in such a manner that he would never call again. I followed your orders exactly."

"Did he have letters?"

Geoffries nodded. "I attempted to inform you, but you did not wish to hear about them, sir. You were strict about him leaving with his letters. I believe he did just that."

Darcy waved his man away and as he was leaving, he noticed Kent standing in the doorway. Darcy was about to gesture him in when he caught sight of Mr. Rogers walking quickly away. "Kent, bring Mr. Rogers here. Make haste!"

Kent left to pursue a now fast moving steward.

Darcy dropped into his chair. "I wish I had read this before. It would have saved me many problems."

"I am not finished with you. Today, I will be the speaker and you will be the listener. You will not interrupt."

Blake remained still, hardly breathing, and not saying a word. His interest in what Rawlings was about to say was piqued, and he wanted to hear it all. He snuggled into the chair, trying to make himself invisible.

"You are the most self-centered cur I have ever known." Rawlings raised his hand to stop an opened mouth Darcy from speaking. "I said you will not interrupt today."

"No one, not even Blake, is such a gut-griping skainsmate." Rawlings looked his way and sent a look of apology to the man mentioned. Blake tipped his head, and with his eyes, he encouraged Rawlings to continue.

"Darcy, all you ever worry about is you. How does everyone treat you? Everyone wants something from you. Are you following what I say? I am sure you are not!"

Rawlings paced up and down the room with his hands clasped together behind his back. He cleared his throat. "I shall start with Hertfordshire, where I first discovered your new-found nature. I did not like what I saw. Were you aware of that? No, you assume everyone admires you. No one in Hertfordshire admired you. They did not even like you."

Darcy lowered his head; his strength sapped and his heart heavy. First, Elizabeth, followed by Richard, Kent, Blake and now even Rawlings. He could not move. He remained motionless and did not attempt to defend himself as Rawlings continued.

"I remember so vividly your attitude at the Assembly Hall dance. It was pompous, to say the least. You had said something callously about Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and with her sitting so close by too, and yet you were unaware she could hear you. That, my friend, is the epitome of arrogance---one does not need worry if a cruel remark is overheard. She heard you, and even from across the room, I knew instantly your comment was unkind from her expression. She was quick to recover."

Darcy jolted his head up. "What? You are making this up."

"I speak the truth. Afterwards, I watched her laugh at you with her friend. Kent saw it as well." Why do you think so meanly of those beneath you? Do not speak, for I will give you specifics to prove my point."

Standing before his distressed friend, he tapped each finger as he proceeded to identify every instance of his condescending manner, from his hidden true anxiety about the tradesmen taking power away from the aristocracy and current ruling class to his separation of Bingley from Miss Bennet. He reminded Darcy of his haughty attitude towards even those in London society who did not come up to his level. Rawlings spoke for a quarter of an hour without stopping for breath. Once finished, he sat down and waited for a reaction.

Darcy had only one question. "Is there anything at all about me that you find worthy?"

Rawlings sighed. "Most everything is worthy, my friend. You are the best of men in essentials, except at some point in time, you lost sight of the value of others. You are kind, as evident by your assistance to Bingley on managing his estate. You spent your free time helping him with the tenants and their problems, instead of concerning yourself with the leisurely pursuits available to us."

"How do you know this?"

"Logan, of course, but some of your other excellent qualities, I have witnessed for myself. You spend more funds on charitable institutions than anyone of my acquaintance does. You do not allow anything to harm your own tenants' lives. Your mining operations are the safest in the country, perhaps the world. You found work for displaced spinners in Derbyshire when machinery took hold in the textile industry and destroyed the cottage industry there. I also am aware that you forced the mills to pay well. These traits belie your prideful belief in yourself."

Darcy dropped his head.

Rawlings leaned forward and tapped Darcy on the shoulder. "I shall always call you friend. If I were in need of help, you are the only living person that would respond without question and do so secretly. Some gentlemen, having received your benevolence, cannot keep their mouths closed after downing a few drinks. I heard plenty of stories of your generosity during those years I idled my time away in clubs and taverns."

"But still, it is not enough, according to you and according to everyone." Darcy's words could barely be heard.

"I am your friend. But without my fortune, would you have treated me with the same consideration? Would I have been one of the men that receive nary a word from you other than the occasional humph? Yes, I have been blunt, but subtlety did not work whenever I attempted to warn you about your own failings. Not too long ago, you said that once your opinion is lost, it is lost forever. Now prove yourself wrong, and demonstrate your ability to revise your opinions on those you deem beneath you!"

Darcy rose from his chair, watching as his friends glanced at each other. He was reminded that during their university days, there had been a tendency to form separate alliances among the five of them. Sometimes he was with the majority, and occasionally he stood alone to champion a radical stance. Today, he stood alone.

"Darcy?" Rawlings asked quietly.

"I will not respond today. I need to think on all that you say and, as much as I am able, I will be fair. But at this moment, we need to discover the truth about Cuffage." Darcy directed everyone's attention to Kent and Geoffries standing in the doorway and holding Mr. Rogers firmly between them.

"Bring him in and shut the door. Geoffries, lock it on your way out."

As Darcy paced, Rawlings, Blake and Kent glowered at Mr. Rogers, who had begun to fret for his safety.

"Mr. Rogers, who is Mr. Cuffage? And I warn you to tell the truth. You will not be given a second chance if you do not. I will have you arrested today and brought up on charges of fraud otherwise."

Rogers swallowed hard and looked at his feet. He raised only his eyes as he spoke. "You are correct, Mr. Cuffage is not whom you think. He is my father, John Roberts. My real name is James Roberts."

"What did you stand to gain? I took you into my confidence."

"His business on Bond Street is a front. He works, as I do, for someone rich and powerful. In fact, our employer is a distant relative."

"What does this man want? I do not understand at all."

"He wants to defeat your alliance. He knows all, and has put into motion many actions to stop you."

"Who is he? I demand you tell us now!"

With a look of satisfaction, Rogers sneered at Darcy. "Why he is Lord Harold Roberts Winthrop."

Darcy gasped and dropped in his chair with his mouth agape. "Oh God."

Blake asked, "The Falcon? Why are you so upset?"

Slumping in the chair, Darcy frowned. "He is my grandmother's brother."

Kent felt a chill sweep over his body and a sense of foreboding overcame him. "Why would he do this?"

"I do not know, Kent, but we will soon find out." Darcy pointed to Mr. Rogers. "You are going with us to The Peregrine House. We will not leave until the Falcon answers all our questions."

Chapter 48

Posted on January 6, 2009

Harold Rogers Winthrop rifled through the papers on his desk while he waited for his guests to arrive, when a knock disturbed his attention. "Enter."

Winthrop's butler came into the room, bringing with him the silver tray holding the visitors' cards. "Sir, four men have arrived unannounced, and insist on meeting with you immediately. Young Mr. Rogers is with them, but, I daresay, not of his own free will." The butler handed him their cards.

Winthrop's brows shot up as read the names, and then, with a shrug of the shoulders, agreed to meet with them. "How ironic that the truth will be revealed on this day, the second Saturday of the month. Escort the young men to the drawing room and send Mr. Rogers here." Winthrop sighed as his butler left to perform his duties.

Once seated at his well-worn desk, Winthrop unlocked the bottom drawer to retrieve a sack of coins. As he placed the overstuffed bag on the desktop, the door to his study opened.

"Rogers, it is so good to see you again."

"My lord." Rogers bowed and seated himself on the chair as directed by the Falcon.

"I have your payment. Oh, I have a new position for you, although I have not had the time make the arrangements."

"Oh. Anyone I know?"

"No. There is a young man, one of those new industrialists. He is, of course, not of my status, nor that of Mr. Darcy either, but he will be a force in his own right." The old man released a humph. "He will challenge that young Mr. Kent. We need to create a buffer against him. He has the intelligence and the funds to destroy us if he is not outwitted early. We must find a way to stop these new industrialists as they call themselves these days."

"I told Mr. Darcy about my father, and that we work for you. Apparently, Mr. Rawlings was able to discover the truth while in America."

"It is of no consequence. They will discover everything tonight. I will deal with young Darcy and his friends in a few minutes. Did you pack your things?"

"No. They brought me directly here."

"I will advise him that I released you to do so. Be quick about it, and do not take anything that is not yours."

"Not even the papers in the locked cabinet?"

"Well, perhaps a few documents might make for interesting reading. You did keep a key for yourself?"

Rogers nodded, and pulled the key chain from around his neck. "I have used it many times. But the only papers taken were those that Whitson grabbed when they impetuously quit the place. I worried it might tip our hand."

"Tell your father this play has ended. I am sending him on to America. He needs to undo any contract they may have made with Astor. I will provide him with the funds necessary and a letter revoking Astor's trade rights with China and the East Indies if he does not break the connection. He owes me."

Rogers took his leave and left promptly for Darcy House. Although he did not admit it, he did not know how he would be able to obtain the documents in the library with Geoffries lurking about.

The Falcon entered the drawing room to find the four men huddled together, whispering to one another.

"Darcy. We need to talk. But first, I request Mr. Kent leave."

"No, sir. He is my partner." Darcy glanced at Kent, who in turn nodded his head.

"Very well, if you wish to be so difficult. I suspect you have questions for me?"

"Why are you trying to destroy our alliance?"

Winthrop smiled. "You have no need for such a partnering. In fact, the time has come for you to know everything. Follow me. Yes, all of you... even you, Mr. Kent. You need to understand the real world you live in, not the one presented."

Darcy muttered. "It will be easier, I am sure, than learning the truth about oneself."

Rawlings chuckled and patted him on the back. "At some point in time, everyone faces their true reflection in the looking glass, or in your case, the window pane. It is never what one expects, but one cannot become whole without it."

"You faced yours?"

Rawlings nodded. "Yes, indeed. Most certainly."

"I might wish to add a few suggestions." Darcy gave his friend a smirk.

"As you wish. I have learned to listen, observe, forgive, and accept.

Winthrop looked back towards Rawlings, "How is my dear sweet cousin, your Great Aunt Mary?"

"You are related to him, too?" Darcy asked.

"Apparently, shall I call you cousin now? How did we not know?"

"Good gracious, Rawlings. Anyone looking at you two could see the resemblance." Blake said as they arrived at the stairway. "Of course, we always thought there was a mischievous couple from among your ancestors."

Winthrop led the men up the stairs. Rawlings turned to Darcy, "Can we not take money from our profits and give to some inventor to find a better way to elevate us to the next floor?"

"Mmmm. A lift of some sort! Not possible." Darcy chuckled. "Besides, with the way you eat those sweet treats, you need the exercise, cousin!"

"Humph." Winthrop turned to glare at Rawlings as he continued towards the ballroom.

"A dance. He will show us the world through a dance." Rawlings chuckled, leaned into to Darcy and whispered, "Why, he steals my technique, does he not? Did I not do a good job showing the Hertfordshire society to you?"

"I doubt he is planning on educating me on the value of those without the most impeccable status or connections."

As they entered the ballroom, gasps escaped from all the young men. Sitting in chairs spread about the room were twenty or so men of distinction.

"Oh my," Lord Blake exclaimed loudly. He identified his uncle in finance, Lord Attwood, rising from his chair.

"Lord Matlock!" Darcy said as he spotted his uncle, and then caught sight of his cousin, the Viscount, sitting nearby. Rawlings grabbed Darcy's shoulder as he, too, found his family members; Lord Wolverly and his brother stood abruptly as the men entered the room.

"What is this, no ladies? How can we dance without them?" Rawlings chuckled, although a bit self-consciously.

Staring at them were the well-known faces---the Fitzwilliam family, the Wolverly pack and the Lords Dembry, Atterton, and Altook. There were other distinguished gentlemen they had met, albeit briefly, over the years. Peppered beside the old men were their first born sons, creating a mixture of the old and the new, which seemed to symbolize the past and the future. Blake's mouth fell open when Lord Liverpool tipped his head towards him.

The presence of the man identified as Sarah Long's father clearly shocked Rawlings. He began to think about all his dealings with the young lady. She had asked many probing questions on the ship, and then again, as they spent time together in Boston before she left for New York. Sighing, Rawlings recalled Winthrop was the name of her family in New York. Instantaneously, he understood she had been sent on the ship as a spy. Her sole purpose in befriending him and Logan was to locate Astor first. Neither he nor Logan had fallen for her violet eyes, pretty smile, or pert talk; but at the moment, he worried about Lowell. Was he a distant member of this secret guild? After a second to think, he dismissed his thought, and felt secure in the Bostonian's friendship.

Kent watched as his friends' reactions reflected shock at the guests. Kent was the least surprised, since his Uncle Daniel, the one in import and export, had previously cautioned him regarding these men, and had hinted about some coalition. He only knew such men existed, but never heard anyone's names, except one. He, of course, was aware that the Falcon was interested in their business, but he had incorrectly deduced that he, himself, was the target, and not Darcy. Somehow, he had not heard they were related.

"My friends," Kent whispered. "I assume we are staring at the power behind the Honorable East India Company.

Darcy shot a look at Kent. "The East India Company? Did you know about these men before?"

"I was only aware of Winthrop keeping records on our business. I apologize. I believed he was only interested in my activities. He has been trying to destroy the Kents for years. But I am surprised you did not know about this, since you are his great nephew."

"No. He kept this from me." Darcy turned face his great uncle.

Winthrop nodded. "True, but had your father lived, he would have brought you into this inner circle years ago. He was a member, Darcy, and he would have replaced me as leader, had he not died."

Darcy turned to his other friends. "Blake? Rawlings? Were you aware of..."---Darcy waved his hand over the attendees ---"this?" Both men shook their heads without offering any further elaborations.

"Come, come, young men. Let us get down to business," Winthrop said as he motioned for them to sit in a row of chairs facing the well-dressed army of men.

"An inquisition, sir?"

"No. As I said earlier, it is just a lesson on the ways of the world. Now, we know all about your alliance, but once I have explained the purpose of our meeting here, you will realize it is unnecessary. Surely you do not believe you are the first men to join together to obtain power and wealth?" The Falcon laughed as he witnessed the flush rising on Darcy's face.

The young men shifted from foot to foot waiting for Winthrop to finish his laugh.

"There is only one true coalition when it comes to business, and it is here in this room. Every second Saturday, we meet to solve the problems of the world." Winthrop nodded as the other members murmured agreement.

"Moreover, Mr. Kent, you are only partially right. We are major stockholders in the "John Company" as we call it, but we do not control the East India Company itself. I must warn you, however; we do wield great power in their decisions. We have had to bail out the government several times, and our wishes are usually met without question or argument."

Winthrop pointed his head towards his other guests. "This group you see before you is much more than just that one trading company. Sit and I shall explain."

The young men all took their seats as a frail looking sixty-seven year old Winthrop began to tell his story.

"Sir John Banks founded this particular business alliance in 1622, and it did not start out as the East India Company. He was my grandmother's grandfather. Ironically, he began his syndicate by arranging contracts for supplying the navy. Now he supplied saltpetre, while you are selling the modified Baker rifles. You, Darcy, own much of his character."

"Oh?"

"Yes, He was known to say: ‘Keep your accounts punctual, be honest to all men, be careful of your company, converse not with ill company for evils do follow thereon.' Now you need to take notice of his warnings. Be careful of your company."

"He was a businessman. Perhaps he was speaking of the likes of you!" Darcy glared.

"True, Sir John Banks was first and foremost the leader of his business alliance. His group dabbled in many areas, from trade to transportation, to financing explorers and building churches. His company's profits grew at an alarming pace. He even established a duplicate East India trading company, but Sir John had been too successful, so the original company, founded by Queen Elizabeth, had no choice but to integrate his into theirs. So you see, my young Darcy, history repeats itself."

"I do not understand." Darcy stared at his great uncle.

"We are here to offer you a merger. You will join us, and we will pursue your ideas. You, my boy, shall one day take your place as leader of this group. You have the skills, knowledge and all the natural abilities to do just that. We have picked you."

"But I have signed agreements with these men, and I shall not back away. Remember, be honest to all men; are those not Sir John's words?"

"Well, Blake and Rawlings are invited to join. We will see that Bingley and Kent receive compensation. We can be honest in that regard."

"Receive compensation?" Kent asked defiantly.

Winthrop narrowed his eyes as he looked at Kent. "You cannot expect to become a part of this group. Why, we are all members of the aristocracy, or have strong familial bonds with peers of the realm."

"John Banks was nothing but a businessman, and he was not born with his title," Kent added.

"True, but that was a long time in the past. Do not forget, his little company merged into the larger one, and the stockholders took over. Nevertheless, he was a brilliant thinker, and that is why they made him Governor of the East India Company after the merger. And Darcy is very much like him."

"Wait, Darcy." Bingley's cry diverted everyone's attention to the doorway as he burst in, followed by his Uncle Watt and Mr. Murdoch, the inventor of the gas light. "We need to talk somewhere privately. I have learned much on my trip north. I hurried back as quickly as I could. The letter I sent you barely touched on the problems."

"How did you know we were here?"

"Geoffries. For a moment, I thought I might have to beat it out of him."

Darcy chuckled at that vision. Geoffries was a tall, well-built man, and although he was older than his friend, he could not reconcile in his mind any way that Bingley would have won.

"You have information for us?" Rawlings asked.

"Can we talk privately in another room?" Darcy asked Winthrop.

"There is nothing he can say to you we will not discover. So speak up, Mr. Bingley. Perhaps we can clear up some misunderstandings and avoid apologies later."

Bingley eyed Darcy, who shrugged and indicated that he should reveal his information. "They do seem to know everything."

"Here is the situation. These men plan to take over our alliance, bringing only you, Blake and Rawlings into theirs and paying off Kent and me."

"Yes. That is what Winthrop told us before you came in."

"But do you know they purposely deceived Mr. Bennet out of his daughters' dowries? These are not honorable men, Darcy."

"Mr. Bennet? How?"

Mr. Murdoch spoke for Bingley. "I started the Gas Light Company, and had avoided entering into contract with this group of men." He tilted his head towards the assembly of gentlemen.

"Humph." Winthrop muttered.

Undeterred, Murdock continued. "When they learned I was seeking a different financial backer than them, they took action. Mr. Cuffage, whom I did not know was connected to them, had arranged with Mr. Bennet to invest and offered the funds to me. Once the money was committed, they forced me to delay my progress by intimidating my suppliers, and somehow held up the legislation in Parliament for my patent. I will not bore you with the intricacies; just know, they coerced me to give up the deal. I did not understand the sole purpose for doing so was the removal of Mr. Bennet as my benefactor. Now I discovered they relieved him of his money. It angers me; I am saddened, and wish to find a way to make amends."

"But why? Why would they do that?"

Bingley spoke up. "They will destroy anyone who does not play their game according to their rules. They will not allow the enormous profits from such a venture to flow to anyone but themselves. Mr. Murdoch was not willing to bend to their will. He stayed loyal to Mr. Bennet until all appeared lost."

While Darcy, Blake, and Rawlings stared angrily at the group, Winthrop and the rest of the men in the coalition appeared unconcerned at the allegation. Before Darcy could speak, everyone turned their heads towards the door again, for yet another disturbance.

Kent's Uncle Daniel---the one in the export and import business---barged in, dragging Samuel Gaston by his arm. "Mr. Bingley, we found him."

"Darcy, here is the man that can explain all. He works for these men, and has been setting about to ruin our modified Baker rifle sales. Tell them the truth."

Blake glowered at Lord Liverpool. "I cannot believe this. Why did you bother to get the sale approved, if the goal was to destroy it?"

"The British Army still needs the firearms, but we, and not your alliance, want to be the recipients of the profits," Liverpool answered matter-of-factly. "Why do you think I was so quick to agree to the purchase? I am not that easily swayed, young man. I was laying in wait for the offer."

Samuel Gaston moved closer to Darcy. "It is true what they say. I am to take over the distribution of the rifles. You will not see any profit once I take control of the guns." He looked down at his shoes. "I had no choice. They threatened to destroy my business. They have been behind the sales of my flintlocks for the slave trade for years."

Kent stood and faced Blake, Rawlings and Darcy. "The time has come. You must decide to either abandon us to unite with them, or stand with Bingley and me. However, before you do, let me explain the consequences succinctly. I will never do business with them, and that includes any member of the Kent family."

Winthrop placed himself between Kent and Darcy. "Nephew, before you answer him, are you aware he has entered into contracts with many tradesmen, and that the agreements only identify him as the purchaser? Mr. Kent is not as honest as you think."

Blake, Rawlings and Darcy turned their heads towards Kent.

"Yes, Winthrop speaks the truth, but before you react stupidly, let me show you some of the agreements." Kent pulled out several official looking documents and passed them to his friends.

"I signed the contracts between all our trading partners, except for the East Indies and, more specifically, China. Read carefully; mine is the only name on the document, not the alliance. But rest assured I am not hiding anything from you; I placed many more contracts similar to these in the locked cabinet in your library. If you had looked, you would have come across them. Now, I promise they will become property of the alliance if you do not abandon it to join this gang of thieves."

Darcy nodded. "Why the secrecy?"

"Most of the men in this room do not pay their invoices timely, and that is why they were willing to sign with me, knowing my word is gold. True, they do not know of your existence, but if they did, they would not have agreed to the contracts."

"But I am not them," Darcy pointed out. "I have my own reputation for being honest and fair."

"Yes, but some men badgered them to not to do business with you. I did not connect the Falcon to the situation, but I understand clearly now it was him and this group. Many that did not sign with me mentioned fear of doing business with us as the only reason. Thanks to those blasted competitions, they knew we had been together at Netherfield. The newspaper accounts identified all five of us as being friends."

"Gerald." Lord Wolverly approached his son.

Rawlings stood. "Why did you not tell me?"

"Only first born sons are allowed, and secrecy is maintained. Winthrop is the spokesperson and the face of the group. Many people think the P on his gate stands for Peregrine. It stands for the præsidentum, as he is our chosen leader. I often suggested we bring in younger sons that show promise, and sought your admittance. And now I rejoice; you are allowed."

"I am a partner with these men." Rawlings glanced at Kent and then Bingley. "I gave my word."

"Do not turn down this opportunity. We... we can work together, son." Lord Wolverly placed his hand on his son's shoulder. "I wish it. I have dreamed of this day."

Rawlings shook his head slowly, but his shoulders slumped and whispered. "No, Father."

"Gerald, what are you doing? You belong here," Lord Wolverly demanded. "Join us. Make me proud. It is your duty. You have obligations to the house of Wolverly. And... I desire you to work by my side. We can accomplish much together." Rawlings' father lowered his voice and gently squeezed his son's shoulder. "Please, son. Do this for me, do this for us."

Rawlings froze reveling in the touch. He felt a sense of deep connection to his father, who had seemed to have aged considerably over the last several years. All his life he had wished to have been the son that received this attention. He did not care if he was the heir, but he realized in this instant that he loved his father deeply and had spent a lifetime yearning for his affection. He and his father locked eyes as Rawlings searched for the truth.

Bingley quietly moved and stood with Kent. "Count me in with you, but I admit I was never out. We have all that is necessary for building the future. Darcy will join us, I am positive."

Winthrop approached Darcy. "Do not be a fool. I will find a way to shut down your little alliance. Only we have the power to ensure success. Look at the men in this room, and take note that the next generation has already been brought into the fold. Join us, and I will personally educate you on the running of such an organization, as your father would have done, had he lived. There is a lot more you do not know."

Darcy looked at all the men in Winthrop's group. "But why not include the next generation of tradesmen? They bring more than shop keeping. They are the builders and the manufacturers. Must you limit membership? Cannot the likes of Kent and Bingley join and enhance the group? I do not see the problem with including them."

"Humph." The Falcon placed his hand upon his nephew's shoulder. "Do not be a fool, boy. They are a greedy, dishonorable lot. Even Mr. Kent had signed contracts to him and not to your alliance. You must rid yourself of these interlopers."

Kent glowered at the Falcon. "I am not an interloper, Winthrop. I am a power to be reckoned with. It would behoove Darcy to join with me if he wishes to see his fortunes rise. We upstarts are the future." The men standing with Kent nodded agreement.

Blake's Uncle Attwood approached him. "My boy, the time has come for you to take your place. You shall be powerful in your own right. Come join with us. We will make certain your future is secure. Do you not understand? Kent and his kind are fervent members of the Whig party, and they seek to purloin our power for themselves. I hear it from my father-in-law daily. Blake, we are Tories and we cannot let that happen. "

"And if I do not join with you?" Blake asked, his eyes searching beyond his uncle into the faces of the assembled men. "I do not see my father in this room."

"He would bring us to financial ruin. We removed him from the group soon after your mother passed on. I took his place."

"Lord Harrowby?"

Blake's Uncle Attwood shrugged. "Your other uncle is too idealistic for our coalition, and is only worried about politics. When he was the Vice-President of the Board of Trade for the government, he was foolish; he would not assist Winthrop in any way. If you shun our offer to stand with the tradesmen, you will be relegated to your little estate. Not even Harrowby can offer you as much riches as we do. The right people will not accept you. We will see to that." Lord Attwood glanced towards Kent and Bingley. "They will only bring you misfortune."

Lord Matlock stood and raised his voice. "That is true for you too, Darcy. Even though you are my nephew, I stand with Attwood here, and of course, with my Uncle Winthrop. You will lose all connections with those of great status and rank if you do not also disassociate yourself. There will not be a seat at my table. Come, join your cousin and myself, and become the leader of the next generation of Peregrines."

Winthrop cleared his voice. "You must make a decision now."

"Wait! First hear me out before you choose." Bingley's Uncle Watt approached Darcy, Rawlings, and Blake. "The men of knowledge, the inventors and members of the Lunar Society will support your new alliance. I have their assurances." Watt smiled at Darcy. "You opened the door for two tradesmen's sons, and we shall stand with you." Watt turned to speak to the other men. "We will bring all our new inventions only to this young fledgling group."

Kent's Uncle Daniel announced his backing in the import and export business. Then, in a possible lapse of judgment, he glared at Winthrop, and cried out, "One day you will ask to merge with us."

Winthrop rose to his full height. "I would rather rot in debtors' prison than unite with the likes of you. You will be the one shackled, not me."

"I stand with the young men." A booming voice filled the room.

Everyone turned to see two men in the doorway---Mr. Edward Gardiner and Mr. John Jacob Astor.

"Astor!" Rawlings cried out as he swiftly moved to shake his hand. "Mr. Gardiner, please join us." He glanced at Darcy. "Astor came over on the ship with me. He was worried for his friend, Mr. Gardiner." Rawlings tipped his head towards the well dressed gentleman standing beside Astor.

Astor acknowledged the handshake, prompting murmurs in the room. "The time has arrived for tearing down aristocratic barriers. I do not mind the separation of wealth from the poor, but this arbitrary partitioning of men based on birth must end. While still prevalent in New York, I assure you it is swiftly dying, and reform must take hold here as well if you wish not to lose every good man to America."

Mr. Gardiner nodded agreement with Astor.

Winthrop remained rigid with his arms crossed. "Astor, we control your permission to trade with China. We will retract your license if you support these men."

"Ahhh. I am far too wealthy, and have great status in my home country. I am an American now, and plan to help her rise and overcome the likes of England and France and the rest of the European continent. No one tells me where to stand."

Kent moved to greet the newcomers. "Mr. Astor, do not fear him. Lord Minton is the current Governor of the East India Company and, as a Whig, he would not revoke your rights to trade there. He hates Tories."

"It is of no consequence. Trade with China is not my first priority," Astor said.

Winthrop scoffed. "Bah! We helped you go from a poor man worth a mere four thousand to a rich one worth half a million. Was it not us, this very group you face today, who secured your wealth? Did you not use our ships at little cost, or rather Mr. Kent's uncle's ships? Was it not all due to trade with China?"

"My Uncle Milton works for you?" When Winthrop nodded, Kent made a mental note to speak to that uncle before the day was done.

Winthrop glowered at Astor. "Do you not owe us allegiance? Did we not assist you in obtaining licenses with the East India Company?" Winthrop glanced towards Darcy, although he continued to question Astor. "Did you not obtain wealth through the sale of opium?"

"Not true. I used a Chinaman named Wingchong to build my fortune. I obtained permission from President Jefferson for his return to China during the embargo. He, of course, took forty thousand dollars worth of my merchandise with him as he sailed by the port authority in my ship, the Beaver, which was the only ship in America that sailed to China. I netted over two hundred thousand in profit. I am too rich to owe anyone now."

"Humph. That was only a few years ago, but before then, your early wealth came from smuggling drugs to China." Winthrop glowered. "Admit the truth to Darcy."

"True, I did start out that way until the embargo, but then you should admit how your fortune comes from opium as well. Did I not do your bidding, and were you not handsomely paid? And have you explained to these young men how your profits also came from the slave trade; be it guns or human beings?"

"Enough, Astor! You must decide whom you wish to deal with in the future. You cannot deal with both of us." Winthrop shook his finger at the German-American.

Astor moved to stand alongside Gardiner, Kent, Bingley, and the inventors---Watt, Murdoch and Samuel Gaston. "I have decided to maintain my partnership with this young men's alliance. Mr. Gardiner will continue as my representative in London, since I understand he is to be a full partner. Mr. Kent seems capable to take the reins if Mr. Darcy accepts your offer."

The Falcon scoffed. "Humph! Astor! Choosing a tradesman over us? We do not need you."

Blake turned to Darcy, "Another tradesman? How many more will be included as partners? Should I hang a sign? Lord Blake, Marquess and tradesman?"

Astor thundered in a voice heard in the farthest reaches of the room. "Let me make myself clear---only those whom I approve will be allowed to dock in my pacific trading post. No global strategy will work without Astoria."

"Now is the time, boy; decide you must" Lord Matlock glanced at his nephew and when he spied Darcy glancing at Kent added, "That man does not care for you. He would tear you apart if given a chance and show no mercy when he did. In truth, do you even know what Kent thinks of you? Well, do you? Has he ever shared his opinion of men of our rank and status? He hates our kind and that includes you. Family is all you have in life and we are family. He is not."

"Yes." Winthrop said with authority as he stood next to Lord Matlock. "Do you want to unite with the man who concealed you as a partner in the contracts, or even with a man willing to deal in opium to bring him wealth in his new country? As leader of this group," Winthrop swept the room with a wave of his hand and then continued, "You will have a say in how we conduct business in the future."

Winthrop stepped towards Darcy, fidgeting with his ring. "As leader, you dictate what is traded. Consider all that is offered to you. Take the ring of the Peregrine." The Falcon removed the gold signet ring from his finger. "Be the Falcon, Darcy. Be the leader." He held it towards his great-nephew.

Lords Wolverly and Attwood joined Winthrop and Matlock to form a single line across from the three young men. "You must now decide your future."

Rawlings, Blake, and Darcy glanced back and forth between the two groups; family on one side and friends on the other; aristocracy to the left and tradesmen and inventors to the right.

With his sense of foreboding returning, Kent stood anxiously as he wondered if all five partners would ever again raise their glasses in their alliance toast. This time there was more than an Andalusian stallion at stake.

A silence fell over the room as everyone waited for the three men to make their choice.

Continued In Next Section