Beginning, Section II, Next Section

Chapter 7

Posted on May 12, 2009

A knock on the door to the library interrupted the discussion Elizabeth and her father were having as they both turned and bid the person to enter. It was a letter for Elizabeth sent from Netherfield of all places and Elizabeth, though initially confused, recognised the handwriting as soon as she took the letter from their butler.

"It is from Jane," she explained to her father as she opened it, "I wonder why she is..."

Elizabeth trailed off as she read the following missive,

My dear Lizzy,

I pray you will forgive me as I am unable to keep my promise to lunch with you today. I was invited to dine at Netherfield yesterday but was unfortunately caught in the rain during my journey there and find myself quite ill this morning. Please do not be alarmed; I am being well looked after and I am sure I will be well again soon enough. I have sent a letter to my mother also but if you happen to see any of my family today, would it be too much to ask that you further reassure them for me? I truly do not wish them to worry.

Your loving friend,

Jane.

"Ohhh!" Elizabeth fumed, startling her father, "That woman!"

"Who, Jane?" He questioned dubiously; he knew that Jane could never inspire such ire in his daughter.

"No, her mother," Elizabeth replied huffily before explaining, shaking the letter for emphasis, "Jane writes from Netherfield because she fell ill when visiting and could not return home. She was caught in the rain," she added when her father opened his mouth to question her.

"Why on earth was she out in the rain? Anyone could see that it was due," Lord Casterton replied and Elizabeth arched her brow.

"Do you not see? This has the mark of Mrs Bennet's matchmaking schemes all over it. Of course Jane would have to in the rain because that meant that there was a chance that she would have to spend the night."

"Do you really think?" Her father began only to stop when Elizabeth stood up and began striding out of the library.

"Yes, I do," she replied over her shoulder, "I am going to go and see her father; I will return later."

"Very well my dear," her father conceded with a sigh, "Give her my love."

The door closed behind his daughter and with a smile Lord Casterton picked up a book and began to read.

By the time she reached Netherfield, Elizabeth was worn out; she had crossed field after field at a quick pace, jumping over stiles and springing over puddles with impatient activity, wanting to see her friend as soon as may be, and as a result had weary ankles, dirty stockings, and a face glowing with the warmth of exercise. Rounding a hedge that led onto a path towards the rear of the house, she stopped just short of colliding with Mr Darcy.

"Miss Casterton!" He exclaimed, taking a step back.

"I apologise for startling you sir," she replied, thinking that this was the least composed she had seen him, "I am here to inquire after my friend."

Darcy looked her up and down, noting her state of disarray, torn between admiration of the healthy glow of her cheeks, and doubt as to the occasion's justifying her coming so far alone.

"On foot?" He eventually queried with a raised brow and Elizabeth smiled.

"As you see."

He did not reply and something in his demeanour struck her as not quite right. Deciding that now was not the time to think about him, she asked,

"Would you be so kind as to take me to her?"

He held out his arm, indicating that she should go ahead of him, and followed a step behind her as they walked towards the house. Suddenly putting her out of her mind did not seem like such an easy task.

Directing a servant to escort her to Miss Bennet's room, Darcy entered the drawing room to inform the others of her arrival. The Bingley sisters were very displeased and not a little appalled; that she should have walked three miles in such dirty weather, all by herself, was almost unthinkable and Darcy could see that they held her in contempt for it. They also fretted over the thought of having to host "such a lady" as they put it and Darcy began to wish himself far away from this place. He was torn between the feeling that he should agree with them, and the feeling that he should be ashamed of such a compulsion.

"Good afternoon Jane," Elizabeth whispered as she gently sat by her friend's side. Jane opened her eyes and smiled weakly,

"Lizzy! Oh, how glad I am to see you."

"Hmm, I thought you would be," Elizabeth replied knowingly, feeling Jane's feverish brow, "I knew you would not wish to give alarm or cause inconvenience by admitting how ill you were, so I determined to come here and see for myself."

"And how do you find me?" Jane teased gently and Elizabeth smiled.

"Not as bad as I feared, but not as good as I'd hoped. Oh Jane," she commiserated, "to have to travel so far in the rain; what was your mother thinking?"

"How do you know that...?" Jane began.

"Please, I know that you would never do anything quite so silly."

"The horses were needed on the farm," Jane attempted to argue but Elizabeth could see that she was not equal to much conversation and hushed her. She also did not want to listen to Jane defending her mother; Elizabeth could not believe how utterly without sense Mrs Bennet was at times and was annoyed, but unsurprised, that she had not thought to come and see her daughter herself.

Elizabeth silently attended her until they were joined by Miss Bingley and the village apothecary. As he examined the patient Elizabeth felt Miss Bingley's cold gaze upon her more than once and wondered at what she had done now. Glancing down at her dirty petticoat she assumed that that must have been the issue and dismissed Miss Bingley from her mind. The apothecary, as was expected, concluded that Jane had caught a violent cold, and advised that she remain in bed, and promised her some draughts. The advice was easily followed by Jane as the feverish symptoms increased, and her head had begun to ache painfully. Elizabeth stayed by her side as long as she could until, noting the time, she stood up to leave. The action disturbed Jane from her sleep.

"Lizzy?"

"Yes dear, I'm here."

"Are you going?" She asked and Elizabeth could hear the gentle benediction in her question.

"I'm afraid I must or I shall overstay my welcome," Elizabeth replied softly; she really did not want to leave her friend.

"Please stay," Jane asked, "I am sure they will not mind over much."

Elizabeth hesitated before finally saying, "I will ask them Jane, but I cannot promise anything."

"Thank you," Jane whispered and, reassured that she would not be alone, fell back to sleep once more.

Elizabeth sighed as she straightened and wondered how she should go about inviting herself to stay in another person's house. Maybe she should just do that, she thought with a smile as she walked along the hall and down the stairs. Maybe she should just say that she was staying and there was nothing they could do about it, and then stand back and watch their reactions.

She inquired after Mr Bingley and was led to a small parlour where the whole party was gathered. The man of the house jumped up and received her very politely, with good humour and kindness, but his sister's greetings in contrast were desultory and cold. As she answered his inquiries as to Miss Bennet's state at present, Elizabeth felt a decided chill coming from the rest of the room and was a little taken aback. She was particularly disappointed to notice that Mr Darcy seemed to be ignoring her, preferring to study the view from the window instead. Looking between them all Elizabeth had a sudden epiphany; they knew about her mother.

"Mr Bingley," she interrupted his worried monologue about Jane a trifle harshly, "may I ask you something?"

"By all means," he replied after a moment's surprise.

"I wonder," she began, looking at his sisters as she asked, "have you had any news from London lately?"

"From London?" Bingley repeated blankly, not noticing Darcy suddenly turn to look at Miss Casterton before he replied, "Well, not really. Caroline had a letter from her friend a few days ago but apart from that..."

He trailed off as Elizabeth's eyes flashed at him and she replied dispiritedly, "I see. In that case, I think I will take my leave. If you could make my excuses to Jane; she asked that I stay with her but I see that that is not possible now."

"But Miss Casterton!" Bingley objected spiritedly, "Surely you would not leave if Miss Bennet has asked for you? It would be my pleasure to have you stay so that you may care for your friend; I can send a man to Willoughby Manor right now to notify your father and fetch your things."

Before Elizabeth could think of a reason to object without hurting the man's feelings and revealing her own, he was gone to make the arrangements, leaving her in a room full of people who suddenly made her feel insignificant and low. It was so degrading, standing before them, feeling them judge her, knowing what they thought of her even though she had never done anything to deserve their scorn. Oh how she wished to run and hide but as it always had in situations such as these, her courage rose and came to her defence.

"Was your letter from your friend interesting Miss Bingley?" She asked pointedly; she was not going to cower and hide, if they wanted to judge her then they could damn well do it to her face.

"Yes, very," the lady replied coldly, "Quite enlightening. It amazes me how appearances can sometimes be so deceptive."

"I'm sure it does, and I am equally sure that you took great delight in reading the stories your friend had to tell. You strike me as a woman who likes to indulge in such pursuits," Elizabeth added with ill hidden distain. She glanced at Mr Darcy who was stood silently listening with a dark frown and added with an arched brow that served to hide how hurt she was, "In fact many people seem to, even those you had hoped would not."

At that moment Bingley strolled back in to the room and declared, "There, it is done. Feel free to make yourself at home for as long as Miss Bennet needs you Miss Casterton."

Elizabeth curtseyed and smiled at him, "You are too good sir; your kindness does you credit."

She excused herself then and left to go and tend to Jane once more. Darcy watched her go, an unfamiliar feeling of guilt eating at him; he still thought her wonderful and it pained him to see her shamed like that, even though very few words had actually been spoken. He knew that he had fallen in her estimation of him by the comment she had made and couldn't help but feel disappointed despite his determination to feel nothing at all when it came to her.

When she was summoned to dinner at half past six, Elizabeth reluctantly left Jane and returned downstairs with her head held high. Her companions asked after their guest and their reactions to the news were in keeping with what Elizabeth already knew of them; Mr Bingley was saddened and hoped for a change soon whilst his sisters, once they had repeated three or four times how much they were grieved, seemed to think no more of the matter and Elizabeth felt completely justified in disliking them immensely. In the end their brother was the only one whose company she had any enjoyment in, for his regard for her friend was clear and he did not make her feel like an unwanted intruder by ignoring her as Mr Darcy did, or by sending her cold looks like his sisters. Feeling like a coward she left as soon as dinner was over, her ears burning all the way up the stairs. She could easily imagine what they were saying of her now. Eventually though she forced herself to return downstairs, noting the silence the room fell into when she joined them.

"I hope I am not disturbing you," she quietly said, coming forward as the gentleman stood and Bingley asked,

"How is Miss Bennet?"

"She is still quite poorly but it is nothing serious," she assured him gently, "she is sleeping now so I thought it best I join you all rather than risk disturbing her."

That was partly true, for Elizabeth had also resolved to join them once more simply to show them that she was not afraid. She would brave their censure and their insults and then return with her head held high to her room, where she could lick her wounds.

"I have an excessive regard for Jane Bennet," Caroline began with false kindness as Elizabeth took the seat Bingley indicated for her, "she is really a very sweet girl, and I wish with all my heart she were well settled."

"Well, there may be a chance of it yet sister," Mrs Hurst replied.

"She is quite the beauty," Caroline conceded airily before continuing, "But unfortunately there are many things to be considered when it comes to marriage."

"Oh yes sister, quite," Mrs Hurst agreed with a nod.

Darcy watched as Miss Casterton cocked her head to the side and asked with a slight bite in her voice, "Such as?"

"Well, connections of course," Caroline informed her with a condescending smile after a very long silence; it was clear she had hoped to ignore Elizabeth's presence altogether and did not like being addressed by her. "I know that in the country such things must seem trivial but things in town are quite different. Miss Bennet is indeed a dear, sweet girl, as I said, but her character is not the only thing that matters."

"Do you mean to say," Elizabeth asked pointedly "that because of her lack of connections, Jane has little chance of making a good match? Or is it the nature of her connections that is the problem?"

As he stood listening to the escalating discussion, Darcy wondered whether the two women were about to have a full scale argument in the middle of the drawing room. He had no doubt who would win, but knew that Caroline would show no mercy when exacting her revenge.

"Well, I do not know so much about it as I am sure you do Miss Casterton," Caroline replied coldly unable to resist adding, "what with your own slightly unfortunate connections." Her sister gasped lightly and Mr Darcy and her brother shot her warning looks, but Miss Casterton just looked at her, quite serene. "I have heard, however," Caroline continued, annoyed at her lack of reaction, "that Miss Bennet's uncle is an attorney in Meryton, and that she has another who lives somewhere near Cheapside."

She said it as though the issue was resolved; her relatives were in trade, ergo Jane had no hope whatsoever. Elizabeth smiled cynically as she observed,

"Do you not think it strange, Miss Bingley, how fickle our society is? How the daughter of a gentleman can be rejected whilst the children of those in trade are accepted, simply because they are richer? Although I suppose there is some consolation in the fact that money can only get you so far," Elizabeth added quietly with an arched brow as she purposefully looked her adversary over from head to toe.

There was nothing that Caroline Bingley hated more than being called a social climber; she hated being reminded of her family's past and resented the fact that, try as she might, she was never going to be accepted into certain circles. Her temper quickly ignited and she was about to offer a biting retort when Bingley, sensing his sister's anger, hastily interjected,

"Well as far as I'm concerned, if the Bennet's had uncles enough to fill all Cheapside it would not make them one jot less agreeable."

"But it must seriously lessen their chances of marrying men of any consideration in the world," Darcy replied calmly, "and that is the material point." He avoided Miss Casterton's eyes when she turned to look at him accusingly; he was only speaking the truth after all, and she was naive to think otherwise.

A servant then arrived with the tray for coffee and the conversation was curtailed, forgotten by Bingley in favour of more pleasurable pursuits but stewed over by the still fuming Miss Bingley. Her sister could tell that Caroline needed some sort of distraction and proposed a game of loo; the suggestion was favourably accepted and the table set up. Elizabeth was invited to join but was in no humour to face Miss Bingley's barbs across the table and so declined, saying that she would entertain herself with a book before returning upstairs to Jane. This reply earned her a look of surprise from Mr Hurst.

"Do you prefer reading to cards then?" He said, "That is rather singular."

"Miss Casterton," Miss Bingley stated before Elizabeth had a chance to reply, "despises cards. She is a great reader and has no pleasure in anything else."

"Miss Casterton deserves neither such praise nor such censure," Mr Darcy replied in his deep, commanding voice, surprising them all even before he added, "Her father tells me that she is not a great reader, and your brother could tell you, Miss Bingley, that Miss Casterton takes great pleasure, amongst other things, in enjoying the countryside. And in walking, of course," he added with an almost imperceptive smile that was meant for Miss Casterton alone.

Elizabeth looked at the gentleman in surprise, wondering at his defence of her after having practically ignored her for the rest of the evening. In truth the gentleman himself wondered at his speaking so but had found that he could not stand to listen to Miss Bingley attacking her anymore; despite the scandal of her family he still greatly admired Miss Casterton, knowing that she was not to blame for what her mother had done, a fact that made his attempt to distance himself from her all the more difficult.

"In nursing your friend I am sure you have pleasure," Bingley noted to cover the silence, smiling as he added, "and I hope it will soon be increased by seeing her quite well."

Elizabeth thanked him for his concern and then walked towards a table where a few books were lying. Bingley immediately offered to fetch her others.

"I wish my collection were larger for your benefit and my own credit," he told her with a disarming smile, "but I am an idle fellow and I already have more than I ever look into."

"These will do very well sir," Elizabeth assured him and quickly selected one that looked the most interesting.

"I am astonished," Caroline began, annoyed with the attention being paid to Miss Casterton, "that my father should have left so small a collection of books. It is quite pitiful when compared to the delightful library you have at Pemberley, Mr. Darcy!"

"It ought to be good," he replied, "it has been the work of many generations."

"And then you have added so much to it yourself, you are always buying books," the lady complimented and Elizabeth found herself paying more attention to the ongoing conversation than the page in front of her.

"I cannot comprehend the neglect of a family library in such days as these," Darcy replied, wishing she would let him alone.

"Charles, when you build your house," Caroline began again after a slight pause, "I wish it may be half as delightful as Pemberley."

"I wish it may," her brother agreed with a smile.

"But I would really advise you to make your purchase in that neighbourhood, and take Pemberley for a kind of model. There is not a finer county in England than Derbyshire."

Darcy glanced at Miss Casterton to see how she bore this comment; she was still occupied with her book, although there was, he noted, a slight smile on her face. He turned back to his companions at the table.

"With all my heart; I will buy Pemberley itself if Darcy will sell it," Bingley joked and his sister huffed at him,

"I am talking of possibilities, Charles."

"Upon my word, Caroline, I should think it more possible to get Pemberley by purchase than by imitation."

"Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring?" Caroline interjected suddenly a little while later, "Will she be as tall as I am?"

"I think she will," Darcy replied, "She is now about Miss Casterton's height, or rather taller."

"How I long to see her again! I never met with anybody who delighted me so much," Caroline gushed and Darcy fought the urge to roll his eyes. "She is so extremely accomplished for her age! Her performance on the piano-forte is exquisite."

"It is amazing to me," Bingley commented thoughtfully, "how young ladies can have the patience to become as accomplished as they all are."

"All young ladies accomplished!" His sister exclaimed, "Charles, what on earth do you mean?"

"Yes all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, and I know not what. I scarcely know anyone who cannot do all this, and I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished."

"I think your observation, Mr Bingley," Elizabeth commented from her place at the settee, "has too much truth. The word accomplished, too narrowly defined, is applied to far too many women; indeed I cannot boast of knowing more than half a dozen ladies, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really accomplished."

"Then," observed Darcy to Miss Casterton, "you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished women."

"Yes; I do comprehend a great deal in it," Elizabeth admitted, wondering whether they were about to have another enthusiastic discussion.

"Oh certainly," cried Caroline, wishing to interrupt them and thinking this a chance to demonstrate her superiority, "no one can be really esteemed accomplished, who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half deserved."

Elizabeth wondered whether Caroline knew that it was obvious to everyone that she thought she was describing herself. Her eyes sparkled with laughter that she could barely keep hidden and, as she caught Mr Darcy's eye, she suspected that he too saw how ridiculous Miss Bingley was.

"I am afraid that we have very different notions of what it is to be accomplished Miss Bingley," she eventually replied, "And I must confess I am surprised at your knowing six such women. I rather wonder now at your knowing any."

"Are you so severe upon your own sex, as to doubt the possibility of all this?" Darcy queried solemnly, pleased in spite of himself when she bit her lip to keep from laughing. He smiled to himself when she finally replied,

"I never saw such a woman, I never saw such capacity, and taste, and application, and elegance, as Miss Bingley describes, united."

This of course was met by protests from both of the Bingley sisters who argued that they both knew many such women, and that she would too had she been fortunate enough to move in such circles as they did in town. This last was said with a knowing look but Elizabeth listened to them in silence, smiling at the irony of it all before mercilessly pointing out,

"But I thought you said that you did not know more than half a dozen such women, Miss Bingley?"

Satisfied with Caroline's blush of embarrassment, Elizabeth soon after left them all to finish their game. As he watched her go Darcy found himself wondering what she meant by the idea of accomplished and caught himself wishing for an opportunity to find out.

"Miss Casterton," Caroline remarked as soon as the door was closed on her, "is one of those young ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other sex by undervaluing their own, and with many men, I dare say, it succeeds. Though why I should expect any better from her I do not know," she added insultingly, "such a paltry device, such a mean art no doubt appeals to such a lady."

Darcy had to bite his tongue to avoid replying to this as he wished and breathed a sigh of relief when his efforts were rewarded with silence.

Chapter 8

Posted on May 16, 2009

Elizabeth breathed a deep sigh of relief as she was finally able to escape the house and venture out into the gardens for a brief moment to herself. She had spent most of the night in Jane's room but had had the pleasure of seeing some improvement in her friend. She had been surprised by the appearance of a maid sent by Mr Bingley very early that morning to enquire after her friend but had been only too happy to share the news with him. Despite the change though Elizabeth still thought it best that Mrs Bennet come and visit her daughter, so that she could form her own judgement of the situation, and a note had quickly been written and dispatched.

Whilst she waited for the lady to come Elizabeth had decided to steal a quick moment for herself in the garden before returning to the company of those who clearly wished her gone. Excepting of course Mr Bingley, she thought with a happy smile.

"Oh Jane," she breathed quietly to the morning air as she followed a path through an archway of trees, "only for you could I bear the company of the Superior Sisters. I would go quite mad were it not for your Mr Bingley, at least he is civil and attentive."

Elizabeth could almost hear Jane's voice replying that he was not her Mr Bingley but Elizabeth thought otherwise, and the idea of seeing her friend settled with such a man gave her comfort. Realising she had been gone too long Elizabeth hastened back to the house only to learn that Mrs Bennet, and her two youngest daughters, were already with Jane and would be joining the rest of the party in the breakfast parlour shortly. She reluctantly climbed the stairs, in no mood to deal with Mrs Bennet's nonsense on top of everything else.

"Good morning ma'am," she greeted quietly when she entered Jane's room. Kitty and Lydia were busy gossiping together in the corner, all but ignoring their elder sister and Elizabeth wondered why they'd even bothered to come at all.

"Good morning Miss Casterton," Mrs Bennet replied coldly, eyeing her suspiciously. Elizabeth sighed and just about managed not to roll her eyes.

"Mrs Bennet," she patiently began, "please do not think that I am here for any other reason than to take care of Jane. Your daughter asked me to stay and I could not deny her; I have no interest in any of the other occupants of the house. Furthermore," she added pointedly, "I have made a point of mentioning Jane at every opportunity."

That was something of a falsehood but Elizabeth knew it was just what Mrs Bennet needed to hear to be placated; true to form the lady looked pleased and her voice lost its hostile tone.

"Yes, well, thank you for taking such good care of my dear girl. I would have been here sooner but there is so much to be done at home, you know how these things are. And it is only a trifling cold, barely worth mentioning," she added, patting Jane's hand who had somewhat wisely, Elizabeth thought, decided to remain asleep for most of her mother's visit.

"I am glad to have been of help," Elizabeth replied between clenched teeth; she quickly excused herself, deciding that enduring Miss Bingley's insults would be easier than enduring Mrs Bennet for any longer. Her resolve was tested, however, when, on approaching the door to the parlour where the household was gathered, she heard Miss Bingley say,

"First the friend, and now the mother and two sisters! Are we to be invaded? It is too much to be borne!"

Elizabeth waited to see whether anyone would agree with or contradict Miss Bingley's statement but the room was silent; she therefore took a fortifying breath and entered. All the occupants of the room glanced her way, but only Mr Bingley deigned to say anything to her. His sisters were too busy ignoring her, and Darcy was too busy trying to forget how she had looked that morning as she had ambled around the gardens. He had espied her from the window of his room and could not tear his eyes away, though he had managed to resist the urge to walk out and meet her.

Mrs Bennet and her daughters entered not long after Elizabeth, and Bingley greeted them warmly,

"Mrs Bennet. Good morning. Welcome to Netherfield. I hope you do not find Miss Bennet any worse than you expected."

"Indeed I have, sir," Mrs Bennet replied with an air of drama, "She is a great deal too ill to be moved. Mr. Jones says we must not think of moving her. We must trespass a little longer on your kindness."

From there it went downhill, and Elizabeth had to sit in tortured silence as she listened to Mrs Bennet insult Mr Darcy and Charlotte Lucas in quick succession and then condescend to admit that Elizabeth's father was just as much a gentleman as Sir William Lucas (but that Mr Darcy wasn't as good as either of them). She fretted over the lady's thoughtless and ill-judged comments, glad that Jane was not here to suffer the humiliation. Mr Bingley was unfailingly polite and courteous and seemed interested in Elizabeth's habit of studying characters, but it was not him she was worried about; his sisters and his friend, she had perceived, clearly had a lot of influence over him and Elizabeth could almost feel Jane and the Bennet's falling in their estimation. She winced when Mrs Bennet began to attack Mr Darcy despite the fact that he was right; country society was very limited and offered few interesting subjects for her to study. There really were only so many times she could listen to Mrs Bennet make a fool out of herself and her family and not become annoyed, after all.

Eventually the visit ended with a demand from Lydia Bennet that Bingley host the ball he had promised soon, and somehow Elizabeth managed to keep her countenance and wish Mrs Bennet and her daughters a tolerably polite fair well. She tarried but a moment to collect her thoughts before returning upstairs to Jane, but instantly regretted the delay when Miss Bingley could no longer withhold her censure of their recently departed guest and became quite scathing in her criticisms. Elizabeth for her part was not overly fond of Mrs Bennet, or the younger Bennet sisters, but she at least knew to keep such thoughts to herself and was appalled at Miss Bingley's lack of decorum. She tried to hold her tongue but when Miss Bingley began attacking Mr Bennet she could not keep from saying,

"I would prefer, Miss Bingley, that you refrained from abusing the Bennet family whilst in my presence; they are particular friends of my family and it pains me to hear them spoken of it such a manner."

She left them then, not waiting to hear what Miss Bingley would undoubtedly have to say about her following that outburst. She was therefore unaware of Mr Darcy's refusal to join in any censure of her, even when Miss Bingley attempted to provoke him with witticisms about Miss Casterton's fine eyes being inherited from her mother.

The rest of the day passed in much the same way as the one before it; Jane improved a little with Elizabeth remaining by her side for most of the day, the Bingley sisters visited Jane when they were bored and had nothing better to do, Mr Bingley worried about the lady resting upstairs and what he could do to help and Mr Hurst spent the day sleeping or asking for sport.

Elizabeth did manage to escape once more for another quick walk in the afternoon, and Mr Darcy once again admired the sight of her. This time, however, he gave into temptation and went out to meet her, although he was sure to make it look quite coincidental of course. If he had paused to examine his behaviour he would have been appalled by his lack of resolve, but he did not pause, and so remained relatively untroubled.

"Good afternoon Miss Casterton," he greeted when she came upon him sat on a stone bench alongside the gravel path.

"Good afternoon Mr Darcy," she replied with a slight curtsey, "Forgive me for disturbing you."

"It is no trouble," he assured her before adding, "In fact, I quite welcome the interruption."

"Oh?" Elizabeth queried with an arched brow, wondering what had happened to the cold civility of this morning.

"Yes, for I have been thinking about something you said," Darcy replied with a slight smile, "It seems you have given me food for thought once again Miss Casterton."

Though part of her wished to inquire what he meant, Elizabeth was annoyed and, she admitted only to herself, hurt by his treatment of her as of late. She thought, she had hoped that maybe he would have overlooked her mother's transgressions...but no, it was clearly too much to expect of a man such as he and she couldn't help but resent the change in him even though he was obviously trying to make an effort now.

"Well I assure you it was unconsciously done," she replied eventually and would have turned away had he not said,

"I beg to differ Miss Casterton. You do not strike me as a lady likely to give voice to her opinions without first considering the consequences."

The reference to Mrs Bennet was unmistakable and Elizabeth could not help smiling even as she chastised herself for the same; she was aware that she should not be allowing him to ridicule the wife and mother of her good friends, even if she did agree with him. She admired his restraint though, thinking that Miss Bingley would do well to follow his example when it came to voicing criticism.

"And what is it that I have said this time, Mr Darcy, that has given you pause?" She eventually asked and Darcy was relieved that she no longer wished to leave him.

"You never had the chance to explain what you meant by the term accomplished," he replied and then admitted, "It has been on my mind ever since."

"You did not agree with Miss Bingley's definition?" Elizabeth inquired with an impertinent smile, her eyes dancing.

"Not exactly," Darcy replied, "I found it somewhat...farfetched."

"Hmmm," was her only reply before she briskly asked, "So, you wish to know my opinion, do you? Very well, you shall have it, though I warn you now you may be shocked."

She took the place beside him on the bench and began.

"To become accomplished a woman must first recognise that the things that she has been taught as the be all and end all of her life are in fact only trivial considerations; she must recognise that her education, in being limited to sewing and singing and being a good wife, is not in any way complete, and she must do her utmost to raise herself above what is usually expected. She must read, write, debate and challenge; the barriers are there for a reason and they must be broken down before a woman can truly be seen to have accomplished something. That is not to say that an accomplished woman may not still be a good wife and mother," she added when Mr Darcy looked about to argue, "or that she may not play and sing and dance, but the reasons behind her actions and choices are what really matters."

Mr Darcy asked her to further explain her final point and Elizabeth smiled,

"I simply mean that a woman who devotes herself to learning to play the piano forte simply to catch a husband is no more accomplished than a woman who cannot play at all; if a woman learns to please herself, to better herself, then she is accomplished. She has learnt to see herself as a woman in her own right, and has realised that she can be so much more than just an empty shell created to serve the needs of men."

"I see you are well acquainted with the work of Mrs Wollstonecraft," Darcy finally commented after a slight pause; he was a little taken back by her vehemence although undeniably impressed at the same time.

"Indeed I am," Elizabeth admitted before pointing out, "Although she is not the only one to have argued that women have the same capabilities as men."

"Quite true," Darcy agreed before complimenting, "You really do seem to be something of a political enthusiast, Miss Casterton."

Elizabeth just smiled and shrugged, turning to look out over the garden. Darcy studied her profile, tormented by the wisp of hair that just begged to be tucked back behind her ear. He cleared his throat and forced himself to say something.

"I see now why you did not voice your opinion on the subject last night," he admitted and Elizabeth laughed her agreement.

"Perhaps I should have done," she joked, "Miss Bingley would have been pleased to add bluestocking to my list of sins, and her victory over me would have been complete indeed!"

Her companion suddenly looked uncomfortable but Elizabeth refused to take pity on him; if he chose to follow society's strictures and look down upon her and her father, then he would learn that she would not be cowed by his or anyone else's disapproval. She had done nothing wrong. For a moment she toyed with the idea of challenging him on his obvious withdrawal but for some reason couldn't quite make herself do it; she felt that she regretted the fact that she had suddenly become unsuitable in his eyes enough already without hearing him say it.

"I hope that you enjoy the rest of your walk Mr Darcy," she said eventually, "For I must return to Jane."

"Good day, Miss Casterton," Darcy replied and she left him to his thoughts.

Shaking his head, Darcy smiled sadly. Such life, such liveliness. She was magnificent and he was captivated by her, so much so that he felt the danger of paying her too much attention. His head knew that it could never be, but his heart and his mind? She spoke to them so eloquently that they almost overruled his reason, and it was only his sense of familial duty, so deeply engrained, that pulled him back and dealt him a hefty dose of reality. When he returned to the house it was with an air of resignation and he resolved that after dinner he would write to his sister; it always helped to raise his spirits.

Chapter 9

That evening Darcy followed through on his resolution and sat down to write to his sister whilst Bingley and Hurst played piquet. Miss Bingley and her sister chose to sit and watch; the former placing herself almost by his side, watching the progress of his letter, whilst the latter observed the game going on between the other two gentlemen. Miss Casterton was sat reading again, though Darcy got the feeling that she was rather more amused by the scene going on around her than by whatever was on the page before her. For Miss Bingley, not content to simply leave him to write his letter in peace, kept calling off his attention with messages for his sister or her compliments about his hand-writing. She did not seem to care that he did not care for her praises, and Darcy was sure that it must have formed a curious and highly amusing dialogue for a lady such as Miss Casterton.

"How delighted Miss Darcy will be to receive such a letter!" Miss Bingley voiced at one point.

Darcy chose to make no answer.

"You write uncommonly fast." She noted.

"You are mistaken. I write rather slowly." He contradicted bluntly, continuing with his task.

"How many letters you must have occasion to write in the course of the year! Letters of business too! How odious I should think them!"

"It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of to yours."

Elizabeth smiled at this reply and turned the page absently, not attending to her book.

"Pray tell your sister that I long to see her." Miss Bingley said not for the first time that evening.

"I have already told her so once, by your desire."

"I am afraid you do not like your pen. Let me mend it for you. I mend pens remarkably well."

"Thank you, but I always mend my own." Darcy denied her, coming to the end of his patience with the lady.

"How can you contrive to write so even?"

Mr Darcy remained silent and Elizabeth almost felt sorry for him.

"Tell your sister I am delighted to hear of her improvement on the harp, and pray let her know that I am quite in raptures with her beautiful little design for a table, and I think it infinitely superior to Miss Grantley's." Miss Bingley instructed him, desirous to make it clear that she enjoyed a level of intimacy with Miss Darcy.

"Will you give me leave to defer your raptures till I write again? At present I have not room to do them justice."

Elizabeth smiled once more, wondering how Miss Bingley could remain oblivious in the face of such a reply from the gentleman.

"Oh! It is of no consequence. I shall see her in January. But do you always write such charming long letters to her, Mr. Darcy?"

"They are generally long; but whether always charming, it is not for me to determine," Darcy replied truthfully, for he simply wrote what he wanted to say, regardless of whether or not it was witty or charming.

"It is a rule with me, that a person who can write a long letter, with ease, cannot write ill," Caroline observed airily.

"That will not do for a compliment to Darcy, Caroline," cried her brother, suddenly joining the unusual conversation, "for I would have you know that he does not write with ease. He studies too much for words of four syllables. Don't you, Darcy?" He teased.

"My style of writing is very different from yours," Darcy replied with a twist of his lips.

"Oh!" cried Miss Bingley, "Charles writes in the most careless way imaginable. He leaves out half his words, and blots the rest."

"I fully admit that my style does leave something to be desired," Bingley replied to his sister good naturedly, "and that my letters sometimes convey no ideas at all to my correspondents."

"Your humility, Mr. Bingley," said Elizabeth, thinking that he truly was a dear man, "must disarm reproof."

"You have not attempted to read one of his letters," Mr Darcy pointed out quietly and Elizabeth laughed lightly at his quip, which she was sure he had not meant to voice aloud, before pointing out,

"And yet I still admire Mr Bingley for admitting to the failing, as it were, despite knowing how badly his style would fair in comparison to yours."

"I think you are giving him more credit than he deserves," Darcy observed, abandoning his letter as Miss Casterton arched her brow and replied,

"Oh? How so?"

"I think that my friend is actually proud of his defects in writing," he pointed out with a slight smile in Bingley's direction, "because he considers them a sign of a rapidity of thought and a carefree attitude which, if not estimable, are at least highly interesting. It was the same this morning when he told Mrs. Bennet that if he ever resolved on quitting Netherfield, he would be gone in five minutes; it was a compliment to himself."

"I think, Darcy," Bingley argued back, "that you are giving me more credit than I deserve in thinking that I spoke with any sort of design in mind. I can barely remember what I said then, but I assure you it was not with the intention of impressing the ladies."

"Perhaps not," Darcy conceded, "but that does not change the fact that even were you to decide to leave, were a friend to say, "Bingley, you had better stay till next week,'' you would probably do it; and then at another word, you would even stay a month."

Elizabeth, who had listened so far in silence, not quite sure that she liked Mr Darcy's observations, argued, "But why are a rapidity of thought and a "carefree attitude", as you say, unfortunate personality traits? Why should Mr Bingley not be proud of such characteristics?"

Bingley laughed as he replied for his friend, "I doubt Darcy has ever done a careless thing in his life Miss Casterton; he would no doubt think better of me if, under such a circumstance, I were to give a flat denial and ride off as fast as I could."

"Would Mr. Darcy then consider your obstinacy in adhering to your decision, in spite of your friend's request, atoned for by the prior thought given to it?" Elizabeth challenged with an arched brown in the gentleman's direction.

"You must remember, Miss Casterton," Darcy replied, "that the friend who desires his return to the house, and the delay of his plan, has merely desired it, asked it without offering one argument in favour of its propriety."

"To yield readily, easily, to the persuasion of a friend is no merit with you," Elizabeth summarised.

"To yield without conviction is no compliment to the understanding of either," Darcy countered, enjoying their verbal sparring, missing the fact that Elizabeth was not as pleased with his replies as she had been in the past.

"You appear to me, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth argued thoughtfully, "to allow nothing for the influence of friendship and affection. Must a friend spell out each and every reason for desiring a change as though the person they were asking were a total stranger? Is compliance with a friend's desire, without needing to be argued into it really such a bad thing?"

"That would depend, Miss Casterton," Darcy replied, "on the degree of importance which is to appertain to the request, as well as the degree of intimacy subsisting between the parties. Surely we would need to establish those things before we continue?"

"By all means," cried Bingley, interrupting the conversation going on between his friend and the lady, "let us hear all the particulars, not forgetting of course their comparative height and size, for that will no doubt have weight in the argument. After all," he added laughingly, "I am sure that if Darcy were not such a great tall fellow, in comparison with myself, I should not pay him half so much deference as I do now. Believe me when I say, Miss Casterton, that there really is no more awful object than Darcy on a Sunday evening in his own house, when he has nothing to do."

Mr. Darcy smiled but Elizabeth could tell that he was rather offended by the implication and took it upon herself to tell their host that they would stop their arguing, sensing that his dislike of conflict was the reason for his interruption.

Elizabeth soon returned to her book and Darcy took up his letter again. When he finally finished it he applied to Miss Bingley and Miss Casterton for some music. Miss Bingley naturally moved with alacrity to the piano-forte, eager to comply with the gentleman's request, and was joined there by her sister. Darcy used the reprieve from her attentions to sit and surreptitiously watch Miss Casterton as she read her book. The combination of her sweet, arch manner and her fiery temperament contrasted greatly with the demure females of town that he was used to and Darcy knew that he had never been so bewitched by any woman as he was by her; he really believed that, were it not for her family's shameful reputation, he would have seriously considered offering for her.

Sat at the pianoforte Caroline was not unaware of Mr Darcy's silent observation of Miss Casterton and, in a fit of annoyance, she quite abruptly finished her piece and called,

"Miss Casterton, would you like me to play a reel? I know that country folk such as yourself do so enjoy dancing and I am sure that my brother would happily oblige you."

Miss Casterton calmly laid aside her book and regarded Caroline for such a long moment that the lady felt compelled to make her offer again.

"Oh," Elizabeth eventually replied, her eyes flashing, "I heard you before; but I could not immediately determine what to say in reply. You wanted me, I know, to say "Yes,'' that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste; but I have always delighted in overthrowing those kind of schemes, and cheating a person of their premeditated contempt."

These last words were bitten out in a frigid tone and to Darcy it seemed that Miss Bingley was glad to be behind the cover of the piano forte.

"I have therefore made up my mind to tell you that I do not want to dance a reel at all--and now despise me if you dare," Elizabeth threatened coldly, her eyebrows arched as she awaited Miss Bingley's reply.

"I do not know what you mean, Miss Casterton," Caroline replied in what was meant to be a light, unconcerned tone, "I do not despise you in the slightest."

"I am glad to hear it," Elizabeth replied, happy at having intimated Miss Bingley for the moment. She excused herself not long after, noting as she bid everyone goodnight that Mr Darcy was watching her with open admiration.

As soon as the door was closed behind her, Caroline launched into a scathing attack on Miss Casterton; her manners, her address, her person, her figure; none of it escaped her noticed and Darcy finally snapped.

"Miss Bingley I must insist that you cease in this...character assassination! I am aware that you do not approve of Miss Casterton's mother's behaviour, and indeed I am equally aware of her family's shameful reputation, but may I remind you that Miss Casterton is not to be held responsible for the scandal. Furthermore," he added forcefully when Caroline looked about to argue, "Miss Casterton's behaviour has been above reproach and bears no comparison to her mother's. She is also a guest in your brother's house and as such you should not be insulting her in this manner."

"Darcy does have a point, Caroline," Bingley piped up, relieved that Darcy had been the one to try and check his sister's behaviour, "and she is the daughter of a Baron after all."

Caroline looked between her brother and Mr Darcy with silent disbelief, unable to believe they were both championing the daughter of such a harlot!

"But", she tried to argue, "if anyone in town hears of this."

"They won't," Darcy replied firmly, "as I said before it will be easy to avoid the scandal once we return to London; until then, however, we should treat the Casterton's in the same manner that we treat all of our current neighbours."

"Very well," Caroline relented resentfully, though she was somewhat appeased by the idea that the Casterton's would be avoided like the rest of the neighbourhood. "I will be perfectly civil to our guest."

"Thank you," Darcy replied, forcing himself to favour Caroline with a smile which set her blushing and preening. He felt better having defended Miss Casterton, however, and would tolerate Caroline's simpering for the rest of the evening if it meant she left the other lady alone.

Chapter 10

The next day Elizabeth was delighted to see an improvement in her friend, so much so that Jane felt able to venture downstairs for a few hours after dinner. When the time came, Elizabeth ran up to her friend and, seeing her well guarded from cold, led her into the drawing room where she had to sit and watch another show of affection from the Bingley sisters. When the gentlemen finally joined the ladies Mr Bingley was full of joy and attention and once the fire was built up he sat down by Jane and talked scarcely to anyone else. Elizabeth saw all this with great delight.

She herself was occupied with her book (for she had actually found one amongst Mr Bingley's meagre collection that she found quite enjoyable) and therefore did not notice how the others chose to occupy themselves. If she had looked up she would undoubtedly have been amused to see how Miss Bingley's attention was quite as much engaged in watching Mr. Darcy's progress through his book, as in reading the one she had selected for herself; she would also have been diverted by the way the other lady tried, and failed, to win his attention. She was occupied however, and did not see. She could not help but be distracted however when Miss Bingley, tired with her own book and annoyed by her lack of success, gave a great yawn and declared,

"How pleasant it is to spend an evening in this way! I declare there is no enjoyment like reading!"

No one made any reply and Caroline, after a moment's hesitation, yawned again and threw aside her book, casting her eyes round the room in quest of some amusement. She heard her brother mentioning a ball to Miss Bennet and she turned suddenly towards him and said,

"Charles, are you really serious about a dance at Netherfield? I would advise you to consult the wishes of the present party; I am much mistaken if there are not some among us to whom a ball would be rather a punishment than a pleasure."

"If you mean Darcy," Bingley replied with some amusement, "he may go to bed, if he chooses, before it begins; but as for the ball, it is quite a settled thing; and as soon as Nicholls has made white soup enough I shall send round my cards."

"I should like balls infinitely better," Caroline replied, annoyed at his dismal of her concerns, "if they were carried on in a different manner; it would surely be much more rational if conversation instead of dancing made the order of the day."

"Much more rational, my dear Caroline, I dare say, but it would not be near so much like a ball."

Elizabeth almost laughed aloud at this reply from Mr Bingley and her reaction was not lost on his sister. Caroline suddenly had an idea and slowly came to her feet and began walking about the room. Her figure was elegant, she knew, and she walked well; but the object of the whole exercise remained inflexibly studious, his eyes focused on his book. Deciding to put her plan into action, she turned to Elizabeth and surprised the lady by saying,

"Miss Casterton, let me persuade you to follow my example, and take a turn about the room. I assure you it is very refreshing after sitting so long in one attitude."

Elizabeth was wary but could think of no way to decline and so was forced to agree. Caroline achieved her object; Mr. Darcy looked up. He was as aware as Elizabeth of the novelty of such attention from Miss Bingley towards her and wondered what she meant by it, sure that she had some plan in mind despite her promise last evening to be civil to Miss Casterton. His observation of them did not go unnoticed and Caroline was delighted; surely he would see that Miss Casterton was clearly at a disadvantage when so directly compared with herself. Before she could point out Miss Casterton's perceived flaws, however, the lady herself spoke. Elizabeth had also noticed Mr Darcy's observation and puzzled over it; she even invited him to join them, a teasing note in her voice. He replied in kind.

"That would surely defeat the object, Miss Casterton."

"There is an object in our taking a turn about the room?" Elizabeth queried with dancing eyes; she felt, not for the first time, that they were sharing a private joke between just the two of them.

"Naturally," he replied with a slight lift of his brows when she smiled.

"And what would our object be?"

"To display your figures to the best advantage, and my joining you would of course defeat that object because I can best admire them from here," Darcy replied and was not disappointed with her reaction.

Miss Bingley of course was all protestation and mock affront, but Miss Casterton simply smiled and, he noted with some pleasure, blushed ever so slightly.

"Oh, shocking, abominable reply!" cried Miss Bingley. "How shall we punish him for such a speech?"

"Oh that is easy," Elizabeth replied, annoyed by her own reaction to his reply. "Tease him, laugh at him," she added with a challenge in her eyes, "Intimate as you are, you must know how it is to be done."

"But upon my honour I do not," Caroline argued, thinking that her opponent (for she was beginning to see Miss Casterton as such) had made an error, "I do assure you that my intimacy has not yet taught me that and we would do better than to embarrass ourselves by laughing without a subject."

"Mr. Darcy is not to be laughed at!" Elizabeth replied with mock dismay, "How unfortunate for me, for I do dearly love to laugh."

"Miss Bingley," Darcy finally replied, "has given me credit for more than can be. The wisest and the best of men, nay, the wisest and best of their actions, may be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first object in life is a joke."

"Certainly," replied Elizabeth, stung by his intimation, "there are such people, but I hope I am not one of them. I never ridicule what is wise or good. Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies do divert me, however, and I laugh at them whenever I can. But these, I suppose, are precisely what you are without," she added with a brow raised sceptically.

"That is not possible for any one," Darcy contradicted before arguing, "But it has been my study to avoid those weaknesses which often expose a strong understanding to ridicule."

"Such as vanity and pride." Elizabeth pointed out; she did not use the words lightly but could not help herself. This man provoked her more than any other, and she simply could not reconcile the different sides to his nature. She hoped, rather than believed, that the man she had come to know during their time at Willoughby Manor was the true Mr Darcy, rather than the man before her now who replied,

"Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride--where there is a real superiority of mind, pride will be always under good regulation."

Elizabeth turned away to hide a smile at such a speech, though inwardly she was disappointed.

"Your examination of Mr. Darcy is over, I presume," Miss Bingley said when they both were silent, "and pray what is the result?"

"I am perfectly convinced that Mr. Darcy has no defect. He owns it himself without disguise."

"No" Darcy argued, "I have made no such pretension. I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding." He paused and then admitted quietly, "My temper I dare not vouch for. It would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost is lost forever."

"That is a failing indeed," Elizabeth replied, wondering at his revealing himself to her like this, "But you have chosen your fault well sir, as I really cannot laugh at it; you are safe from me."

"There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil, a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome," Darcy noted and Elizabeth could not help herself and replied,

"Yes, and your defect is a propensity to hate everybody."

"And yours," he pointed out with a smile, "is willfully to misunderstand them."

"Do let us have a little music," Miss Bingley cried suddenly, not liking the look which passed between the pair, "Louisa, you will not mind my waking Mr Hurst."

Her sister made not the smallest objection, and the piano-forte was opened, and Darcy, after a few moments recollection, was not sorry for it. Miss Casterton occupied his thoughts much more than he knew she should.

The next morning, feeling Jane to be well enough to make the journey back to Longbourn, Elizabeth had her friend write a note to request the carriage be sent for her in the course of the day. Mrs Bennet, however, had calculated on her daughter's remaining at Netherfield till the following Tuesday (completing Jane's week at Mr Bingley's house) and replied that Jane could not possibly have the carriage before then. She even added in her postscript that, if Mr. Bingley and his sister pressed her to stay longer, she could spare Jane very well. Elizabeth, however, was firmly resolved against staying any longer and simply wrote to her father to request their carriage be sent, and determined that she would drop Jane off at Longbourn on her way home. Her father complied with his daughter's request immediately and Elizabeth and Jane were soon taking their leave of Netherfield.

Mr Bingley was the only one truly sorry to see them go; his sisters were glad to be rid of Miss Casterton at last, and Darcy was glad to finally have some time alone to put his thoughts and feelings into order. He wisely resolved to be particularly careful that no sign of admiration should
now escape him, sensible that if such an idea had been suggested in the past that it must be contradicted by his behaviour from now on.

Still the feeling of guilt and, he uncomfortably admitted, hypocrisy ate at him, however. He was not unaware that his family could have found themselves in a similar position to the Casterton's had he not arrived in Ramsgate on time. He told himself that their situation was different, that Lady Casterton was a grown woman whilst Georgiana was just an innocent girl, but his excuses did not quite ring true. The fact remained that Miss Casterton was blameless in the whole affair and had done nothing to bring about the situation she now found herself in; Georgiana, however naively, would have caused her own ruin. He also felt guilty for not attempting earlier to deter Miss Bingley from insulting Miss Casterton, though he knew his interference would have probably made the jealous lady even more determined. He knew though that Elizabeth and in many ways her father also had done nothing to deserve anyone's scorn and felt that, as a friend to them (however new) he should have tried to shield Miss Casterton from Miss Bingley's attacks. He sighed as he watched the carriage disappear into the distance, torn between admiration of the lady and his duty to his family that dictated that he have nothing to do with her.

During the carriage ride to Longbourn, Elizabeth was in the liveliest of spirits, glad to be free of that place, and was quick to tease Jane about her darling Mr Bingley. Her friend blushed and denied but Elizabeth had seen and heard much during her stay and would not be deterred; she took pity on dear Jane though and kept her thoughts mostly to herself. She declined Jane's invitation to take tea with them when they reached Longbourn for she had missed home and wished to see her father. The two friends parted with a promise to see each other again soon and Elizabeth continued the rest of the way to Willoughby Manor alone.

The carriage had barely pulled to a stop before Elizabeth had leapt down and hurried into the house, sure that she had never been so happy to return home than she was at this moment.

Her father came from his study to meet her and was surprised when his daughter rushed up to him and threw her arms around his neck.

"Oh! Dear me," he exclaimed, "what's all this? It has only been three days my dear, surely you cannot have missed me this much."

"I have missed you terribly father," Elizabeth contradicted, "but that is not why I am so glad to be home once more."

"Did they treat you poorly?" Her father questioned with concern, unused to seeing his Lizzy in such a state.

"No, yes, well...not very poorly I suppose, but not very well either. They know, father," she explained quietly, looking up at him, "they know about...her."

"I see," her father replied solemnly; he kept his arm about her as he led her into the library, "I no longer wonder at your relief to be home. I wish you had said something Lizzy; I feared with their connections in London they would hear something about it and I would have had you home in an instant."

"I could not leave Jane," Elizabeth replied, taking the seat beside him, "and I would not have given them the satisfaction of knowing they had chased me from the house with their looks and comments."

"You are so stubborn," her father sighed; the weight of his failure weighed heavily on him during moment's such as this when his daughter was made to suffer because of his actions.

"It was not very bad," Elizabeth tried to reassure him, taking his hand, "Mr Bingley was all that is civil and attentive and I daresay I would be a fair way in love with him, were I at all inclined to like that sort of man," she teased and her father chuckled lightly.

"What sort of man would that be Lizzy?"

"An impossibly good one. But as it is, Jane is impossibly good too so they will be perfectly happy together," she predicated with absolute conviction.

Her father chuckled again before noting, "You are trying to distract me."

"Indeed I am," Elizabeth agreed lightly, "Is it working?"

"I daresay it is," he replied affectionately, laying his hand against her cheek, "as always my dearest Lizzy."

They were quiet for a moment before Elizabeth began again with laughter in her eyes, "Speaking of distraction father, I was almost driven to it by Miss Bingley on more than one occasion during my stay. You would not believe some of the things she said..."

Elizabeth then proceeded to relate to her father some of that lady's nonsense, leaving out of course the comments Miss Bingley had made in regards to her and her mother. She had no wish to repeat them and knew that her father did not need to hear them.

"And what of Mr Darcy?" Her father questioned when she had paused to catch her breath, "How was he during your stay? I thought that the two of you seemed to be getting along rather well."

"I must admit that I did like him, father," Elizabeth confessed before adding, "but he seemed a different man amongst his friends than when he was here with us; he was quite proud and disagreeable, more like the man I first met at the assembly. And I am afraid that it became quite obvious that he no longer wished to spend time in my company, knowing what he did of our disgrace."

Even as she said this she couldn't help thinking of their conversation in the garden and some of their heated drawing room discussions and was once again puzzled by his varying behaviour. Proud and disagreeable as he was, she couldn't help but think (with equal parts frustration and regret) that underneath that outer layer there was something more likeable about him. Her father's reply interrupted her musings.

"Pity," her father remarked, disappointed but resigned, "I would have liked to know him better; he seemed a more sensible fellow than that."

"He is not completely without sense, I will admit," Elizabeth conceded thoughtfully, thinking back over the past few days, "It is obvious he only tolerates Miss Bingley for her brother's sake and he has some interesting opinions, but he is a member of the ton father, and you know we cannot expect too much of them," she teased with an arched brow, endeavouring to lighten their mood, pleased when her father laughed.

"Your irreverence never ceases to amaze me Lizzy."

"I do not see why it should," Elizabeth replied lightly, "I simply speak as I find. But I pity Mr Darcy his obedience to society's rules father, for he is depriving himself of our delightful company, and that is a sacrifice indeed!"

"Indeed! How shall he manage without us?" Her father asked dramatically and Elizabeth laughed, truly glad to be home.

Chapter 11

Posted on May 19, 2009

During her next visit to Longbourn, Elizabeth had the dubious pleasure of being introduced to Mr Collins, Mr Bennet's cousin and the young man who, on the latter's death, would take possession of Longbourn. He was a young man of five and twenty, heavy set and awkward, and Elizabeth, even if she had been ready to like him, could not remember meeting anyone quite like him before. She only wished that her father were there so that he could observe this little oddity of a man himself. She pitied Jane all over again for being cursed with yet another ridiculous relation, for Mr Collins truly was ridiculous. An overbearing father and a weak mother had predisposed him to unquestioning obedience, making the church and his subsequent position as parson to Lady Eddrington a very natural choice. His speech and manners were very formal and pretentious, a result of too much time spent in the company of his noble patroness, and his piety made even Mary Bennet seem foolish and flighty.

As soon as he discovered that Elizabeth was the daughter of a baron she was made to endure his attentions for so long that she could barely keep her countenance. She even toyed with the idea of informing the man of her mother's behaviour, simply to see his reaction, but decided to spare herself the shame. Mr Bennet, she could see, was highly amused by his absurd guest and made no move to help her; in the end it was Jane who rescued her by inviting her out for a turn about the garden.

"So," Elizabeth breathed when they were finally alone, "that was Mr Collins. I must say he is rather..."

"Yes, he is rather," Jane agreed quietly, that being the closest she would ever come to criticising another person.

"I suspect you are now extremely thankful for Mr Bingley's good timing," Elizabeth pointed out as they strolled arm in arm.

"What do you mean Lizzy?"

"Well, had not Mr Bingley chosen to come into the neighbourhood when he did," Elizabeth teased, "you and he could not have fallen madly in love with one another and you would have been encouraged to accept Mr Collins' attentions to secure your family's future."

"I am quite grateful to be spared," Jane admitted in a whisper, ashamed of herself for such thoughts.

"You must not blame yourself for feeling as you do Jane," Elizabeth assured her, "you wish to marry for love, that is natural and good, and it is not your fault that Mr Collins is so," she wished to say odious but said instead, "is not the man for you. And that would be true whether or not Mr Bingley had come into the neighbourhood, for you cannot force love to appear where there would be none."

"Oh Lizzy," Jane sighed, finally smiling once more, "What would I do without you to reassure me?"

"You would manage very well I am sure," Elizabeth replied with a smile, "much better than I should without you to remind me that not everyone in life is as bad as they seem."

"Oh Lizzy," Jane laughed, thinking her friend was joking, "I know you do not truly think so."

"You are my friend Jane, you have to say that," Elizabeth teased and they carried on their walk.

As they returned to the house, Elizabeth was preoccupied by her thoughts; though she had been teasing Jane earlier, Elizabeth herself was exceedingly grateful that Mr Bingley had come when he had. She shuddered to think of Jane, her dearest friend, married to a man like Mr Collins! It was unthinkable, every feeling rebelled against such a match, and yet Elizabeth knew that it most probably would have come to pass had not Mrs Bennet fixed her sights on Mr Bingley instead. Jane would have yielded to the pressure and Elizabeth would have wept throughout the whole wedding ceremony, she was sure of it.

"Elizabeth?"

She was called from her thoughts by Mr Bennet, only then realising that she was still stood in the front hallway, quite alone. The gentleman looked at her with curiosity,

"Whatever you were thinking about Lizzy, it must have been damned engrossing. You've been stood there five minutes at least."

"Have I? Oh dear," Elizabeth replied with a light laugh, "How embarrassing! For my thoughts truly do me no credit, and certainly do not justify such a lapse in concentration."

"Then you were not thinking about your recent stay at Netherfield with our new neighbours?"

Mr Bennet and Lord Casterton were very close friends and there was little they did not share with one another.

Elizabeth shook her head, "No, I have resolved to forget about it."

"Perhaps easier said than done," Mr Bennet commented knowingly but Elizabeth smiled,

"Indeed, but that simply ensures that I shall make even more of an effort. You know how I enjoy a challenge."

"Well take care Lizzy," he cautioned after a light laugh at her obstinacy, "for you may find that your effort to forget the event makes you think about it all the more."

Elizabeth accepted his point with a slight nod and he let her continue on her way, watching her go with a thoughtful look. He was very fond of his friend's daughter, so much so that he saw her almost as one of his own, and he worried about the effect her mother's betrayal was having upon her. To grow up with no mother was bad enough, but to grow up knowing that her mother purposely shamed and embarrassed her father, to witness firsthand the behaviour that society had scorned Lady Viola for, to have to face that scorn herself when she was still so young and completely innocent...Mr Bennet shook his head and retreated once more to his library, hoping that the cynicism he already detected in the young woman would not get any worse.

Mrs Emily Burrows was the widow of an old friend of Lord Casterton's and had known both he and his wife before their unfortunate marriage. She had tried to discourage the match and had watched with increasing shame the ever worsening behaviour of the young woman she had once called a friend. The only solace that Emily had was in the help she gave Lord Casterton in raising his daughter; she had no mother to speak of and Emily was happy to try and fill some of that void. The two had a mutual affection for one another, though the lady knew that the young girl thought her more of a friend than a parent, always preferring the company of her father, and over the years Emily had tried her best to help Elizabeth in whatever way she could.

One morning Elizabeth and Emily decided that they would venture into Meryton to do some shopping whilst the weather was still dry and fair. They picked up the few bits and pieces that Emily needed before leisurely strolling through the town, stopping at windows which held something of interest and exchanging greetings and idle chatter with their acquaintances. They were just discussing whether to take their leave and return to Emily's home when Elizabeth spotted Jane and her sisters and, she noted with an inner groan, Mr Collins. Deciding that the pleasure she would have in seeing Jane outweighed that man's odious company, Elizabeth and Emily crossed the street to greet their friends.

"Good morning Miss Bennet, Miss Lydia, Miss Catherine," Emily intoned with a smile; it faded slightly when the younger girls neglected to return her greeting in favour of admiring a bonnet in the nearest window.

"Good morning Mrs Burrows," Jane replied softly, "May I introduce my cousin, Mr Collins. He is visiting with us at the moment."

Emily greeted the gentleman kindly and then unexpectedly found herself the centre of Mr Collins' attentions. She shot Elizabeth a mildly alarmed look but her younger friend could do nothing; she shrugged and turned to Jane.

"How are you today?"

"Very well," Jane assured her, "In fact I was able to spend the day in the garden yesterday and..."

As Jane excitedly (or what passed for excitedly when it came to Jane) related her latest gardening venture, Elizabeth's attention was drawn across the street to where a young lieutenant she remembered seeing around town and at a few parties exited a shop followed by another gentleman. He was tall and dark, much like another man of her acquaintance, though not nearly as imposing. He laughed and smiled openly and Elizabeth couldn't help comparing his open manner with Mr Darcy's. Her silent perusal of this stranger was interrupted by Lydia Bennet calling across the street to "Denny", the young lieutenant that Elizabeth had recognised. Jane chided her younger sister but her purpose had been served; the two men crossed the street to join them.

"We thought you still in town," Lydia said to Denny; it was a lie, Elizabeth knew, for Jane had admitted that her younger sisters had come to Meryton with the express purpose of seeing him.

"There was nothing amusing enough to hold us there," Denny replied gallantly and Elizabeth wondered why he encouraged the girl. He turned to his friend and then back to them, "May I introduce my friend George Wickham?"

The gentleman in question bowed and then looked between each of them as Denny said, "Miss Casterton, Miss Bennet, Miss Catherine Bennet and Miss Lydia Bennet."

Elizabeth curtseyed and introduced Emily to the two gentlemen as she had never met either of them, "This is my good friend Mrs Burrows."

"And this is my cousin, Mr Collins," Jane added and Mr Wickham greeted them both pleasantly.

He seeme'd to possess a happy readiness for conversation along with a very pleasing address and answered Lydia's questions and his friend's teasing good naturedly.

"Do you stay long in Meryton, Mr Wickham?"

"All winter, I'm happy to say," he replied with a smile that never seemed far away. Elizabeth thought that perhaps he smiled a little too readily for her taste. "I've taken a commission in Colonel Forster's regiment," he added and Kitty nudged her sister.

"There, Lydia! He will be dressed in regimentals."

"And lend them much distinction, I dare say," Denny noted, elbowing his friend, "Out swagger us all, eh, Wickham?"

"You misrepresent me to these young ladies," the gentleman replied with a modest smile but to Elizabeth it did not quite ring true. She caught Emily's eye and wondered whether she shared her thoughts.

"Shall you come with us to Aunt Philips tomorrow night?" Kitty asked and Jane looked at her sharply.

"Denny is coming!" Lydia piped up, neither girl thinking about whether or not they should be inviting a stranger to their aunt's house without permission.

"It's only supper and cards," Kitty assured him, thinking that was the reason for his hesitance.

"I haven't been invited by Mr and Mrs Philips," Mr Wickham replied and Elizabeth gave him credit for it.

"No one cares about that nowadays!" Lydia argued but he persisted,

"If Mrs Philips extended the invitation to include me, I should be delighted."

A look from Emily, Elizabeth and Jane persuaded Lydia to let the subject drop and they were all stood talking quite amiably when the sound of horses drew their attention and Jane and Elizabeth noticed Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy riding down the street. They came directly towards them and Bingley jumped from his horse to talk, ostensibly to the group, but really just to Jane. She smiled and blushed when he asked after her health and remembered to ask her about how her garden came on.

Elizabeth was watching their interaction and so very nearly missed the reaction Mr Wickham and Mr Darcy had on seeing each other; the former gentleman looked uncomfortable and nervous for a moment before regaining his composure whilst the other looked, in a word, furious. Not even taking his leave of them, Darcy pulled harshly on the reins of his mount and continued down the street and Elizabeth could not help but wonder about what she had seen. Mr Bingley finally realised that his friend had abandoned him and bid them a good day. Soon after Elizabeth and Emily took their leave and began the walk back to Emily's home, promising to see the Bennet's again the following night at their Aunt's little gathering.

"Well, he was certainly a charmer," Emily commented once they were alone, smiling as she added, "I almost dread the moment he dons his regimentals."

"Yes, I can already picture all the girls swooning over him," Elizabeth replied dramatically, laying her hand against her forehead as she theatrically exclaimed, "Fetch my smelling salts Emily, I feel faint!"

They laughed together before Elizabeth sobered and asked her friend if she had seen what had passed between the two gentlemen. She had not, and neither could she think of a reason for it, but did say,

"I wonder whether Mr Wickham looks a little too good to be true."

"Perhaps," Elizabeth replied thoughtfully before joking, "But it really matters not, for he smiles far too much for my taste."

"Oh yes, far too cheerful for you," Emily teased knowingly, "Dark and brooding are much more to your liking, aren't they Lizzy?"

"I don't know what you mean," Elizabeth replied a trifle defensively; she had told Emily of the time she had spent with Mr Darcy and was sure that Emily was trying to imply something.

"If you say so my dear," Emily replied with a knowing smile and Elizabeth glared at her.

"Yes, I do say so," she stated sharply, "He is nothing to me and I am nothing to him. How could I be? I am the daughter of a shameless, wanton woman after all and therefore not fit for pleasant company, let alone the attentions of such a man."

Elizabeth stopped and was left to wonder where such a bitter reply had come from; she thought she had managed to put all thoughts of him behind her, but obviously not. Her friend was looking at her, shocked and concerned, and Elizabeth sighed,

"Sorry Emily, I know you were only teasing me."

"What is it that has you so angry Lizzy?" Emily queried and Elizabeth sighed again.

"I do not know exactly," she began hesitantly, "although lately I have been feeling so very..."

"Very?" Emily prodded when her young friend trailed off.

"Bitter," Elizabeth admitted eventually, "Bitter and cynical. I do not seem to be able to look at anyone or anything without finding fault, but what is worse is that I often find myself almost giving voice to such thoughts. You know I have always observed those around me with interest Emily, but lately what used to amuse me now only serves to inspire my ire and I don't know why."

"You have perhaps been too long in one place my dear," Emily replied, putting her arm around Elizabeth, "To be in the company of the same people for so long a time could never be agreeable to even the most amiable person, let alone someone like yourself who..."

"Always sees the worst in people?" Elizabeth provided but Emily shook her head,

"No, who has a lively mind and too little space to exercise it."

"You make me sound like a dog," Elizabeth teased, smiling faintly, "or a horse."

Emily would not be deterred and continued with, "I think you know as well as I why you find it difficult not to be so cynical though Lizzy; for one so young you have seen more than your fair share of the uglier side of human nature, and in many ways you have had a difficult start to life."

"I have never missed her," Elizabeth almost hissed, her eyes flashing angrily; Emily lay her hand on her arm and soothed,

"You mistake my meaning; I was simply referring to the effect her actions have had upon you and your father. I never meant to imply that you have missed your mother, though of course it does not necessarily follow that you have not missed having a mother," Emily pointed out quietly.

"I haven't needed one; between you and father I have had everything I need," Elizabeth argued and Emily smiled at the sentiment.

"At yet, you are still cynical as you say. If we had done as we ought, you would not feel that way."

"No!" Elizabeth denied with surprising vehemence, "That's not true. You and father are not to blame. It is because of her and her alone that I am like this! It is because of her that we are ostracised by all but our closest neighbours and spend every day in fear of further rejection." She pulled her arm from her friend's and paced back and forth as she continued to vent her frustration, "If it weren't for what she did I would not feel this bitterness, this resentment towards those around me who are free to live their lives, to love as they chose whilst I am stuck in this place, knowing that I will never leave it and that my one companion shares the same fate as I do. No," Elizabeth concluded, tears shining in her eyes, "it is her fault and I hope that she is burning in hell for all the suffering she has caused us."

"Elizabeth!" Emily exclaimed; she was used to her young friend's passionate nature but this was too much, even for her.

"Don't defend her Emily," Elizabeth cried, all control lost as she finally gave vent to feelings too long repressed, "She was a liar and a whore and I hate her for what she did to us!"

Emily pulled the now crying girl into her arms, glad that they were on a country path with no one around to witness Elizabeth's hysterics. She used her voice to try and sooth Elizabeth's tears and eventually they subsided. Elizabeth stayed in the elder woman's arms, exhausted and drained.

"Come, my dear, let us go home."

Emily led the now subdued Elizabeth to her home and they were soon sat before the fire, a cup of warm tea in hand. Elizabeth was embarrassed and ashamed at her outburst, though she knew she had meant every word.

"How are you feeling now?" Emily asked gently and Elizabeth managed a small smile.

"I think I should be asking you that after such a display."

"It was a long time coming," Emily replied philosophically, "although I cannot help but wonder why it all chose to come out at that particular moment."

"You know why," Elizabeth said, looking at her friend, "I have never before experienced firsthand the full extent of society's disapproval before the arrival of the Netherfield party and I am finding it very hard. I suppose our neighbour's relative unconcern for our disgrace lulled me into a false sense of security, and it has been something of a shock to have to bear such ill-concealed disdain."

"And is such disdain more difficult coming from some more than others?" Emily questioned delicately, knowing that Elizabeth would take her meaning.

"Yes," she admitted with a sigh, her shoulder sagging. "I admit that I...I quite liked him, but now he is cold and proud and I know that he looks down upon me even more so than he does everyone else. I find myself angrier at him than I am at Miss Bingley because of it, although I know I should not hold him to a higher standard than her or the rest of society."

"Why not?" Emily argued, "Mr Bingley is a gentleman too and yet he clearly has no problem with you or your father, and neither do any of the neighbourhood gentlemen. Why is it that Mr Darcy is allowed to snub you and cause offence whilst others find it in themselves to overlook the past?

"I don't know," Elizabeth replied with a loving smile, "although I must say that you sounded as fierce as a lion defending her cubs just then Emily."

Emily blushed lightly and set about rearranging her skirts as she replied, "Yes, well, I simply do not see why we should overlook such behaviour from him. He is rich, to be sure, but that is really no excuse at all."

"I know," Elizabeth admitted, smiling at her friend's surprised look, "I know that he is proud and disdainful and I do not forgive him for it, but," she added with a hopeless sigh, "there are still times when I cannot help but feel that, were he not so proud, we would get on very well. And I admit that I regret that he will always think ill of me, no matter what I do or say."

Emily was not quite sure how to reply to this speech and the two lapsed into silence. Elizabeth, though her spirits had been somewhat subdued as of late, was not built for melancholy and endeavoured to rouse herself and her friend by saying,

"Ah, but what is it to me what Mr Darcy thinks? It would do me well to remember that he thought me only tolerable when he first saw me, and any time I feel about to forgive him his pride I should remind myself of how he mortified mine."

Chapter 12

Whilst his daughter was out visiting with their mutual friend, Lord Casterton was walking the paths around his estate. He had awoken that morning with a shortness of breath and a pain in his chest that, whilst not an entirely new occurrence, still served to alarm him. Deciding that all he needed was some fresh air and exercise, he had seen Elizabeth off before setting out himself. He had been pleased to find that he had indeed felt a little better once he'd gotten out of the house and, perhaps letting his sense of achievement go to his head, had ventured further afield than was his usual habit. It was only as he reached the top of a small incline that he realised that he had overexerted himself and he was grateful to find a stile upon which he could sit and rest, hoping that the pain in his chest would soon subside.

Darcy finally came back to his senses and realised that he had left the town far behind; he took pity on poor Toby and allowed his horse to slow to an eventually stop. Inwardly he was still fuming, though outwardly the only sign of his discomposure was a sterner than usual countenance. That Wickham would be here of all places! And that Darcy should have come across him speaking to her! As he thought on it he felt his blood begin to boil once more and knew that he must turn his mind to other things. Such anger served no purpose after all; what was done was done, and there was little he could do about it. He was only grateful that he had been able to save Georgiana, though the guilt at his failing to prevent such an eventuality still gnawed at his heart.

Glancing around Darcy realised that he did not know where he was; he knew all the fields and hills of Pemberley like the back of his hand, but here they all just looked the same. With a flick of the reins he started Toby on a slow trot, hoping to get his bearings. It was as they climbed a slight hill that Darcy spotted a lone figure sat upon a stile; his brow furrowed as he wondered what the gentleman was doing so far out in the countryside. Heading over to him, Darcy was surprised to recognise the man as Lord Casterton himself.

Obviously sensing his approach, Lord Casterton looked up and Darcy was alarmed to see how pale the elder gentleman was. He dismounted and left Toby to graze for a while whilst he went to speak with Lord Casterton.

"Good day, my lord," he greeted casually, though his eyes were busy taking in the other signs that Lord Casterton was not well.

"Good day, Mr Darcy," Lord Casterton replied, before adding with a slightly breathless smile, "But please, call me Casterton. I can't be doing with all that lord business."

"Very well," Darcy agreed. The other man went to stand but Darcy, thinking it best he remained seated, quickly asked, "May I join you?"

Lord Casterton nodded and watched as the younger man took a seat beside him; he was no fool and was grateful for the tact that Mr Darcy was exercising. He would have liked to think that he would have accepted an outright offer of help, but appreciated the younger man's attempt to save his pride nonetheless.

"I have just seen your daughter in town," Darcy commented after a moment, deciding that some conversation would serve to cover the real reason they were sat together, "She was with the Misses Bennet and another gentleman whom I did not recognise."

"Mr Collins no doubt," Lord Casterton replied, "He is Thomas' cousin and he is staying with them for a while. Apparently he is something of an enigma according to my Lizzy, so you were perhaps fortunate to have avoided the introduction."

He was smiling but something in Lord Casterton's tone gave Darcy pause. They fell silent until Lord Casterton spoke up,

"Mr Darcy," he began, making Darcy look at him, "I know from Elizabeth that you and your friends have heard about my wife's misbehaviour."

Darcy frowned and looked down and the man beside him chuckled slightly, without humour, as he noted, "You think I should not talk about such things; but I refuse to simply bury my head in the sand and not accept the shame I have brought down upon myself and my family, though it has cost me dearly to do so in the past," he added to himself, gazing off into the distance. He sighed and turned back to his companion once more,

"I understand, of course, your reluctance to further your acquaintance with myself or my daughter, but all the same I would ask that you do not blame Lizzy for the mistakes her mother and I have made. I have asked the same of all of my neighbours and have been fortunate indeed to have them accept the past for what it was, to find it in their hearts to treat Elizabeth with kindness and courtesy. I do not expect the same from you and your friends, naturally; I only ask that you keep your censure for me, and spare my daughters feelings."

Darcy was silent. Such a humble speech seemed at odds coming from the man beside him, a man in many ways above him in status and consequence, were it not for the actions of his wife. He thought back over what Lord Casterton had said and frowned as he recalled a particular phrase,

"Why would you not expect the same from us?" He questioned, catching Lord Casterton by surprise who asked what he meant.

"You said that you would not expect the same from us as you would from your neighbours. Why?"

"Come Mr Darcy," Lord Casterton replied with a knowing smile, "We both know that were Elizabeth and I ever to venture into town we would be flayed alive. The people here do not care so much for such things, they are more willing to overlook my wife's transgressions than you and your friends from town would ever be."

Silence met this reply from Lord Casterton and he allowed the younger man to become lost in his thoughts, watching as he played with his signet ring, frowning darkly. Realising that he felt a little better, well enough at least to attempt the walk home, he said,

"I believe it is time I returned home; Elizabeth will no doubt be back and wondering where I have got to."

He slowly stood and Darcy quickly came to his feet beside him, trying not to look like he was ready to offer any help should it be needed. He looked at the hand that Lord Casterton held out to him blankly, still lost in his own thoughts.

"I bid you good day sir," Lord Casterton prodded, smiling inwardly. He could see that he had given Mr Darcy a good deal to think about.

"Actually my...Casterton," Darcy corrected quickly, "I am embarrassed to admit that I am somewhat lost. Would you allow me to accompany you for a while until I get my bearings?"

It was a poor excuse indeed, he could have easily just directed him to Netherfield, but Lord Casterton appreciated the gesture all the same. He gave his assent and they set off at a slow pace. Deciding that some conversation was in order, Lord Casterton began questioning his young friend about his opinions on the situation on the continent and was suitably impressed by the replies he received. Eventually Willoughby Manor came into sight and he pointed down another path,

"This road will take you straight to Netherfield, Mr Darcy."

"Thank you," Darcy replied, calling Toby to his side from where the horse had been following them at a slight distance.

"No, thank you," Lord Casterton argued, grateful for the attention that Darcy had shown him, and after a slight hesitation Darcy nodded his head.

He turned to mount his horse but stopped and looked back at Lord Casterton.

"My lord?" The elder man stopped and turned back to him, "I am...I would have you know that, were circumstances different, I believe I would have enjoyed getting to know you better. I think we could have been friends."

"I am sure we would have been," Lord Casterton replied with a resigned smile before wishing him a good day and continuing on his way home. Mr Darcy was not the first gentleman he had met who placed reputation and status before friendship and he did not resent the younger man for it; it was also obvious to him that Mr Darcy did not seem happy with the decision.

The next day as Elizabeth and Charlotte were taking tea together at Lucas Lodge, Elizabeth happened to mention to Charlotte how pleased she was that Mr Bingley continued with his attentions to their friend, and that Jane seemed very happy to receive them. Elizabeth believed that her friend was well on her way to being very much in love but was glad that as of yet it seemed to have escaped the attention of their neighbours. Charlotte's reply to all this was somewhat troubling to Elizabeth.

"It may perhaps be pleasant," replied Charlotte, "to be able to escape our neighbours notice, but it is sometimes a disadvantage to be so very guarded. If a woman conceals her affection with the same skill from the object of it, she may lose the opportunity of fixing him, and in most cases I think a woman would do well to show more affection than she feels. Bingley undoubtedly likes Jane; but he may never do more than like her, if she does not help him on."

"But she does help him on, as much as her nature will allow," Elizabeth argued, perturbed by this speech. She had always known her friend to be a woman of sense, and had admired her for it, but surely this was a little too sensible. "If I can perceive her regard for him, he must be a simpleton indeed not to discover it too."

"Remember, Eliza, that he does not know Jane's disposition as you do," Charlotte pointed out calmly, taking a sip of her tea.

"But if a woman is partial to a man, and does not endeavour to conceal it, he must find it out."

"Perhaps he must, if he sees enough of her. But though Bingley and Jane meet tolerably often, it is never for many hours together; and as they always see each other in large mixed parties, it is impossible that every moment should be employed in conversing together. Jane should therefore make the most of every half hour in which she can command his attention. When she is secure of him, there will be leisure for falling in love as much as she chooses."

"Charlotte," Elizabeth almost exclaimed, "how can you say such a thing? Even if Jane were capable of carrying out such a scheme, surely you must know that it would be wrong to act so? Such a plan would only be suited to a woman who cared only about being well married, determined to get a rich husband, or indeed any husband she could. But these are not Jane's feelings; she is not acting by design and as yet she cannot even be certain of the degree of her own regard. And what is more, she has only known him little over a month and cannot yet understand his character."

"Well," said Charlotte, not realising how little Elizabeth agreed with her opinions, "I wish Jane success with all my heart; and if she were married to him to-morrow, I should think she had as good a chance of happiness as if she were to be studying his character for a twelvemonth. Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance and it is better to know as little as possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life."

Elizabeth shook her head, thoroughly disappointed in her friend. She knew that such views were not uncommon; indeed she had lamented that fact to Mr Darcy a month ago, but still, such pragmatism, such calculation! She knew that Charlotte was in no way malicious, but could not help but liken her desire to find a husband to the scheming of her own mother. Had not she shown more affection than she felt to capture her father? Had she not concealed her true character from him until it was too late?

Realising that her friend was watching her closely, Elizabeth attempted to smile as she half-heartedly replied,

"You make me laugh, Charlotte; but it is not sound. You know it is not sound, and that you would never act in this way yourself."

"Miss...? Miss Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth started and turned to her maid, Sophie, with a distracted smile, "Sorry Sophie, I was miles away."

"It's no trouble miss," the young girl assured her, holding out the freshly pressed dress that Elizabeth had selected to wear tonight to Mrs Phillips' gathering.

Elizabeth allowed her maid to dress her and arrange her hair, sitting down and standing up and holding out her arms like an obedient child. In truth her mind was elsewhere and she was glad of Sophie's attention; she would never have been ready on time if left to her own devices. She didn't really want to go out, she had never cared overmuch for the Phillips', but she hadn't spoken to Jane properly in a few days and longed for the company of her sensible and serene friend. Jane would help her sort through her muddled thoughts and feelings, she was sure of it. Although she would first have to give voice to said thoughts and feelings, a task Elizabeth was not looking forward to.

Oh why could she not cease thinking about him, she lamented inwardly as the carriage trundled along, on its way to collect Emily before they went on into Meryton. Why did he continue to occupy her thoughts even though she knew that she could never accept such a man, even if he were ever to offer for her, a thing she knew to be impossible? Yes he was handsome and clever and she enjoyed their wordplay, but he was also arrogant and proud and far too aware of his own situation when compared to others. He made no effort to converse with anyone outside his own party, clearly thinking them beneath him, and she knew that he looked down upon the Bennet's because of their poor connections and would likely regard a match between Jane and his friend as highly undesirable; he and Miss Bingley were clearly in agreement on that point. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she realised that he and Miss Bingley, whom she thoroughly disliked, had a good deal in common when it came to their treatment of those whom they perceived as below them...

Elizabeth inhaled sharply as the truth of the matter hit her with sudden and humiliating clarity and she cursed loudly in the silence of the carriage. What was she doing?! How could she be almost pinning after such a man? What had led her to ignore the fact that he treated them all so dismissively and would no doubt deny all knowledge of her and her neighbours once he had returned to town? And what of her friends? Had she really been willing to forgive him his treatment of them simply because, as a handsome and intelligent man, he had flattered her? Was that the type of woman she was? Were a few smiles and intellectually stimulating debates all it took for her to cast them all aside in favour of her own pleasure? And what of herself and her father! Mr Darcy had not been back to Willoughby since he'd discovered their "family secret", despite his promise to return, and had treated her very differently when she had been at Netherfield; clearly he was looking to sever all ties with them. Oh, how dare he! Elizabeth had her pride, regardless of her circumstances, and she was furious to think that she had been so completely blind! She had been too caught up in lamenting the loss of his attentions when she should have been considering why he had chosen to withdraw them! She had been making excuses for him because she had liked him, but it was clear to her now that there really were no excuses at all for such behaviour. She was also ashamed of the fact that she had failed to stand up for her friends in the face of his disdain and by the time the carriage arrived at Emily's house, Elizabeth was in such a turmoil that she had to make a real effort to hide it from her friend.

Chapter 13

Posted on May 23, 2009

Though she had not looked forward to the evening, Elizabeth found that she wished to be distracted, and so the wait for the gentleman to join them was long and tedious. At last it ended and the gentlemen did come and when Mr. Wickham walked into the room, Elizabeth realised that she had perhaps not given him his due when she had first met him. The officers of the regiment were in general a very creditable, gentlemanlike set, and the best of them were of the present party; but Mr. Wickham was clearly far beyond them all in person, countenance, air, and walk, as they were superior to the broad-faced stuffy Mr Philips, breathing port wine, who followed them into the room.

Elizabeth smiled to herself when she realised that Mr. Wickham was the happy man towards whom almost every female eye was turned, including her own, and she resolved to let him be. No sooner had she decided this however than he appeared by her side and finally seated himself next to her; he told how pleased he was to see her again and they fell into an agreeable conversation. In truth he had selected her for a very specific purpose and was looking to put his plan into action. You see Wickham had realised, on seeing Darcy in town that day, that he needed to act quickly in the event that his old friend tried to expose him for what he was, and to that end he had devised a credible story of cruelty and ruin; Miss Casterton's experience with the snobbery of the ton made her a very natural choice as the person with which he would first share it.

Elizabeth was quite happy to sit and converse with Mr Wickham about a variety of inconsequential subjects and was thus surprised and disappointed when, about half way through the evening, Mr. Wickham introduced the subject she had the least desire to speak of; Mr Darcy. He inquired how far Netherfield was from Meryton and, after receiving her answer, asked in a hesitating manner how long Mr. Darcy had been staying there.

"About a month," said Elizabeth and then added, "he is visiting with his friend Mr Bingley. He hails from Derbyshire originally."

"Yes," replied Wickham, "you are correct. Indeed, you could not have met with a person more capable of giving you certain information on that head than myself, for I have known him all my life."

Elizabeth could not but look surprised.

"You may well be surprised, Miss Casterton," the gentleman noted with a slight smile, "at such an assertion, after seeing the very cold manner of our meeting yesterday. Are you much acquainted with Mr. Darcy?"

"As much as I ever wish to be," Elizabeth replied, her spirits sinking once again as she was reminded of her thoughts during the carriage ride here.

"I have no right to give my opinion," said Wickham, "as it is impossible for me to be impartial; I know him too well. But I believe your opinion of him would in general astonish and perhaps you would not express it quite so strongly anywhere else."

"I assure you sir, that I tend to speak my mind and I say no more here than I might say in any house in the neighbourhood, excepting of course Netherfield. I daresay you will find that he is not at all liked in Hertfordshire."

Elizabeth's conscience prickled as she heard herself say those words, knowing that no-one deserved to be maligned behind their back, but she knew it was the truth. The people here did not like him, and it wasn't up to her to defend Mr Darcy. Little did she know, or suspect, that she was about to be given yet another reason to think ill of him.

"I cannot pretend to be sorry," said Wickham, after a short interruption, "if that is indeed the case. Too often are people blinded by his fortune and consequence, or frightened by his high and imposing manners, and they see him only as he chooses to be seen."

He then began to relate to her the story of his acquaintance with Mr Darcy, a story that so shocked and appalled Elizabeth that she could not help but exclaim over it. Had she taken but a moment to think, to listen to his story from a neutral point of view, Elizabeth undoubtedly would have questioned his willingness to tell her all, as well as some of the finer points of his tale. But Elizabeth, however unknowingly, had never been able to be impartial when it came to Mr Darcy and did not question what she heard.

"I cannot believe it," she muttered when Mr Wickham had finished his tale, shocked at this evidence of Mr Darcy's true character. "He deserves to be publicly disgraced for what he did to you."

They were interrupted by Lydia Bennet demanding Wickham's attention and Elizabeth took a moment to collect herself. She had not thought Mr. Darcy so bad as this, had not thought so very ill of him. She had supposed him to look down on people in general, but had not suspected him of descending to such malicious revenge, such injustice, such inhumanity as this! She was dismayed at the evidence of such callous treatment, and truly felt herself the fool for not seeing that he was capable of such behaviour. Even after her earlier realisation that she should not admire him, these revelations were still painful and Elizabeth was struck anew by how blind she had been.

When Lydia left them, Mr Wickham once more took up the tale, saying,

"We were born in the same parish, within the same park, the greatest part of our youth was passed together, inmates of the same house, sharing the same amusements, objects of the same parental care. My father was steward to the late Mr. Darcy, and devoted all his time to the care of the Pemberley property. He was most highly esteemed by Mr. Darcy, a most intimate, confidential friend and Mr. Darcy promised my father at the time of his death that he would provide for me."

"Oh how abominable!" Elizabeth replied in agitation. "To discard the will of his father so callously! How could a man with such pride lower himself to do such a thing?"

"I believe there were stronger feelings than pride involved, Miss Casterton, though pride has often been his best friend," Mr Wickham pointed out.

"Can such abominable pride as his, have ever done him good?" Elizabeth questioned with disbelief and her companion smiled.

"Yes. It has often led him to be liberal and generous, to give his money freely, to display hospitality, to assist his tenants, and relieve the poor. Family pride, and filial pride, for he is very proud of what his father was, have done this. Not to appear to disgrace his family, to degenerate from the popular qualities, or lose the influence of the Pemberley House, is a powerful motive."

"I am astonished at his intimacy with Mr. Bingley!" Elizabeth noted after trying unsuccessfully to speak of other things, "How can Mr. Bingley be such good friends with such a man? How can they suit each other? Do you know Mr. Bingley," she thought to ask and Mr Wickham replied that he did not.

"He is a sweet tempered, amiable, charming man. He cannot know what Mr. Darcy is."

"Probably not," Mr Wickham agreed, "but Mr. Darcy can please where he chooses. He does not want abilities. Among those who are his equals in consequence, he is a very different man from what he is to the less prosperous. His pride never deserts him; but with the rich, he is liberal-minded, just, sincere, rational, honourable, and even agreeable. He can be a conversable companion if he thinks it worth his while."

This speech struck a chord within Elizabeth and she fell silent. Everything she knew of Mr Darcy corresponded with what Mr Wickham had said. When he thought her family worthy of his attentions he had appeared open to a friendship with her father, and had readily talked and laughed with her in company. But now? Now that he thought them beneath him he only spoke to her when it pleased him to, usually when they were alone, and treated her with cold disdain at other times. This proof of her suspicions that the proud Mr Darcy was the true Mr Darcy after all brought Elizabeth no pleasure and she suddenly wished that she could go home and think.

Fortunately for her Mr Wickham soon left her to speak to a few of the others gathered, silently applauding his success in convincing Miss Casterton of the blackness of Darcy's character, and she was able to go to Emily and plead a headache. Her friend instantly agreed with her desire to leave early and after saying their goodbyes they were soon on their way. Emily could tell that Elizabeth was troubled by something but, though she pressed her, her young friend would not reveal the source of her unhappiness. Emily sighed at the refusal to talk and then, struck by a sudden thought asked,

"What were you and Mr Wickham speaking of?"

Elizabeth smiled; a dark, humourless smile that did not reach her eyes, "Pride, and stupidity."

"Pride..." Emily began with surprise but the carriage had just pulled to a stop outside her house and the door was being held open by an expectant servant.

"Good night Emily," Elizabeth said and turned to look out of her window.

Emily sighed and stepped down, "Good night, Lizzy dear."

"Elizabeth, may I speak with you a moment?"

Elizabeth looked up from her practice at the pianoforte as her father came towards her, his tone and expression serious. Worrying that something had happened, Elizabeth hurried over to him, saying,

"Of course father. Is anything wrong?"

"Not with me, my dear," her father replied and he led her to one of the settees, taking a seat beside her as he added, "But I fear that all is not well with you."

"I'm fine," Elizabeth replied automatically; in truth she was not fine, she fluctuated strangely between anger and disappointment, and she dreaded the ball this coming evening when she was sure to see Mr Darcy again.

"You are not," her father argued and took her hand, "I can see you are not; will you not tell me what troubles you so?"

Elizabeth kept very little from her father even without his asking her to confide in him, and she could not keep the truth from him now. She reluctantly told him about her conversations with Emily and Charlotte but decided against telling him what Mr Wickham had said. It pained her to do so but she knew that her father liked Mr Darcy and did not want to have to disillusion him. She saw no harm in letting her father continue to think well of Mr Darcy when it was unlikely they would see him again; on the two occasions they had been in one another's company since Netherfield he had treated her with obligatory courtesy, as though they hardly knew each other, and barely said more than was absolutely necessary. She had been upset by his slight of her to begin with but had fortunately come to her senses, especially glad that she had done so before hearing Mr Wickham's revelations.

"And is that all that is troubling you Lizzy?" Her father asked once he'd counselled her not to worry about Charlotte, that what would suit her would not necessarily suit her friend.

"I must confess I do not look forward to being in Miss Bingley's company again," Elizabeth replied; it was not a complete lie, she did not look forward to it, and she knew that she would need a reason to explain her ill-humour tonight at the ball.

"Would you rather we stayed home?"

"And give her the satisfaction of knowing that she reduced me to hiding in my own home? Never," Elizabeth replied with temerity.

Her father chuckled, "That's my girl. But do not worry Lizzy; I have no doubt that as long as we stick together, we can handle whatever they throw at us."

Elizabeth smiled and pressed a kiss to her father's cheek.

"If you do wish to leave at any point though," he added when she sat back, "please do not hesitate to say so. You know I do not care for such events; I am only dragging myself away from my library so that I may have the pleasure of escorting the most beautiful young lady there."

"Then I shall have to put extra care into my appearance tonight papa," Elizabeth replied with a light laugh, "so that your efforts are rewarded."

She was surprised when her father smiled and then pulled her into his arms but she gladly accepted the embrace; it was not often that he held her like this and it remained a source of infinite comfort to her. That it was a source of equal comfort to her father can well be imagined.

Chapter 14- The Netherfield Ball

It had long been established, by unspoken agreement, that whilst Elizabeth was to be treated with courtesy and kindness she would never enjoy the degree of deference due to her as the daughter of a baron. She did not mind this, indeed she often thought that she would have hated the fawning attentions of her neighbours, and had accepted her place in the neighbourhood. A consequence of this unspoken agreement was that she was almost never asked to dance the first set; it would have shown a preference that none of the neighbourhood gentlemen wished to imply, at least none of those whom Elizabeth would have considered (she may have been of reduced status, but even she had her standards). Thus it had been for all the years that Elizabeth had been out in society, and thus she expected it to be for a good many years still to come; the surprise with which she replied to Mr Darcy's request for the first set can therefore well be imagined. Indeed, she was taken so much by surprise by his application for her hand, that, without knowing what she did, she accepted him. He walked away again immediately and she was left to fret over her own want of presence of mind.

She had arrived at the ball determined to avoid him at all costs, really fearing that if given the opportunity her temper would get the better of her and she would berate him right there in the middle of the ballroom. Such behaviour would not only shame her father, it would also embarrass Mr Bingley, and by extension her dear friend Jane, so she resolved to simply stay away from him. She had initially been very successful; she had greeted Mr Bingley with warmth and sincere pleasure, had spared no thought for his sisters, and then had left her father with Mr Bennet as she'd found her way over to Jane, by who's side she had stayed. It was as they were talking together that Mr Darcy had come to request her hand, and it was Jane who tried to calm her now.

For his part Darcy had been resolved not to overtly avoid the Casterton's but to make no special effort to be in their company; until, that is, Miss Casterton entered the room on the arm of her father and her appearance drove all other thought from Darcy' head. She truly was a beautiful woman and he stood some moments in silent admiration before deciding that maintaining his distance was not such a good idea after all; he approached her to claim the first set, forcing himself not to linger by her side for fear of never being able to tear himself away. His conversation with her father on the hill played on his mind and he was determined to show her that he was not as bad as Miss Bingley and her ilk; that he did not hold her in contempt. The disparity between this and his earlier aim would have struck him had he been able to think of anything else but their upcoming dance.

When the dancing commenced and Darcy approached to claim her hand, Elizabeth only just managed to keep a hold of her turbulent emotions. She could read in her neighbours' looks their amazement in beholding her and Darcy joining the line and she tried her utmost to ignore their stares and whispers. She kept her eyes averted from his, not speaking a word, hoping that the silence would last through the two dances, resolved not to break it.

Mr Darcy however evidently had other ideas as he gently commented, "I think we should have a little conversation, Miss Casterton. It would look odd to be entirely silent for half an hour together, don't you think?"

"Perhaps," Elizabeth allowed, "although I do sometimes wish that conversation were arranged so that the two people may have the trouble of saying as little as possible to one another."

"I hope that this wish does not apply in the present case," Darcy stated as they passed each other in the dance; there was something in her manner which spoke of displeasure, even anger, and he wondered what he had done to inspire it.

"I suspect that it does," Elizabeth replied archly, "as I have always seen a great similarity in the turn of our minds. We are each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak unless our audience is considered worthy of the effort."

"Such a description bares no very striking resemblance to your own character, I am sure," said Darcy, convinced now that she was annoyed at him, beginning to feel a little annoyed himself at her attacks. "How near it may be to mine, I cannot pretend to say. You think it a faithful portrait undoubtedly."

She made no answer, and they were again silent till they had gone down the dance, and he asked her if she had been to the Phillips' gathering, having heard of it from Miss Bingley who had of course declined the invitation. She answered in the affirmative, and, unable to resist the temptation, added,

"I particularly enjoyed becoming properly acquainted with Mr Wickham; our meeting in Meryton the day before was so very brief."

The effect was immediate. A deeper shade of hauteur overspread his features, but he said not a word, and Elizabeth knew that she could not go on if she hoped to keep her composure. At length however Darcy spoke, and in a constrained manner said,

"Mr. Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure his making friends--whether he may be equally capable of retaining them, is less certain."

"I am surprised at your knowing him so well, Mr Darcy," replied Elizabeth with emphasis, "you did not seem at all inclined to speak to him the other day."

Darcy made no answer, and seemed desirous of changing the subject; he had noticed that Wickham had not had the audacity to attend the ball and had no desire to speak of him at all. At that moment Sir William Lucas appeared close to them, meaning to pass through the set to the other side of the room; but on perceiving Mr. Darcy he stopped with a bow of superior courtesy, to compliment him on his dancing and his partner.

"I have been most highly gratified indeed, my dear Sir. Such very superior dancing is not often seen. It is evident that you belong to the first circles. Allow me to say, however, that your fair partner does not disgrace you, and that I must hope to have this pleasure often repeated, especially when a certain desirable event, (glancing at her friend and Bingley), shall take place. What congratulations will then flow in!"

Sir William's allusion to his friend seemed to strike Mr Darcy forcibly, and his eyes were directed with a very serious expression towards Bingley and Jane, who were dancing together. Recovering himself, however, shortly, he turned to his partner, and said,

"Sir William's interruption has made me forget what we were talking of."

"I do not think we were speaking at all. Sir William could not have interrupted any two people in the room who had less to say for themselves," Elizabeth replied coldly. It was as explicit as she dared be, knowing as well as he that in the past they had had no trouble at all conversing.

They both fell silent then, each lost in their own perhaps equally troubling thoughts until Elizabeth suddenly said,

"Do you remember, Mr. Darcy, telling me that you hardly ever forgave, that your resentment once created was unappeasable?" He nodded and she observed, "You are very cautious then, I suppose, as to its being created."

"I am," said he, with a firm voice.

"And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?"

"I hope not." He replied solemnly and Elizabeth turned her face away so that he would not see what she thought of his replies.

"May I ask to what these questions tend?" He asked after a moment.

"Merely to the illustration of your character," she replied lightly, endeavouring to appear less hostile. "I am trying to make it out."

"And what is your success?"

She shook her head and regarded him frankly. "I do not get on at all. I hear such different accounts of you as to puzzle me exceedingly."

"I can readily believe," answered he gravely, almost certain as to the source of her information, "that reports may vary greatly with respect to me; and I would wish, Miss Casterton, that you were not to base your opinions solely on the words of others."

"But how else am I to sketch your character sir?" Elizabeth argued, "I cannot rely on my own impressions, for you seem to confound all my attempts to understand you. I thought I had you all figured out, but I now know how wrong I was."

"Perhaps you were not so very wrong, Miss Casterton," Darcy replied intently as they came together in the dance, his eyes boring into hers, their bodies almost touching. He was silently willing her not to believe Wickham's lies as he suddenly couldn't bear the thought of her thinking so ill of him.

"No," Elizabeth replied quietly, averting her eyes. "I think I was."

They stepped back as the dance ended and said no more to one another, parting in silence.

Lord Casterton watched his daughter and Mr Darcy dance with a slight frown. He did not disapprove of their dancing together, and he was not as surprised by it as his neighbours seemed to be, but he could not help but notice how tense they both seemed. He could not hear what was said, but it was clear from their expressions that neither took much pleasure in their conversation. When the music ended, Lord Casterton watched Darcy escort Lizzy from the floor and immediately take his leave of her with a curt bow; she let him go without even a second glance and disappeared into the crowd. Lord Casterton puzzled over it, thinking that perhaps Elizabeth's poor spirits of late had spilled over into this evening.

Walking around the edge of the dance floor, he slowly approached Mr Darcy where he stood glaring at his hands, twisting his signet ring in an agitated manner.

"Good evening Darcy," he greeted, surprising the younger man out of his thoughts.

"Good evening my lord," Darcy replied and Lord Casterton smiled.

"So we're back to my lord, are we?"

Darcy smiled weakly and shrugged, "I cannot help it."

"Fair enough," Lord Casterton conceded, not wanting to push the point. They lapsed into silence until he lightly commented, "I couldn't help but notice you and Lizzy dancing."

"Yes," Darcy replied, frowning all the more. He had looked forward to it with pleasure, despite of himself, but it had been a disaster.

"I hope that..." the elder man beside him began hesitantly; he sighed and then smiled ruefully, "I hope that it did not prove to be a wholly unpleasant experience."

"Not at all my lord!" Darcy denied forcefully and Lord Casterton chuckled.

"Don't worry son, I'm not accusing you of anything. It is just that I happen to know that Elizabeth is a little out of spirits at the moment, and I hope that you do not take her ill humour personally."

Darcy knew then that whatever Elizabeth had heard from Wickham, she had obviously not shared it with her father.

"I hope it is nothing serious that troubles your daughter," he offered and Lord Casterton shook his head.

"No, nothing serious. She was just upset to learn that a close friend is willing to marry for convenience alone, rather than any real affection."

As he said this Lord Casterton was looking at Elizabeth as she stood talking with Charlotte Lucas and Jane Bennet. Darcy followed his line of sight and came to his own conclusions as to who Lord Casterton was referring to.

"I am sorry to hear that," he replied stiffly; Sir William's comment earlier had alerted him to the fact that Bingley had raised the neighbourhoods expectations with regards to Miss Bennet and it was now abundantly clear that he would have to talk to Bingley tonight, or tomorrow morning at the very latest.

"It is the way of the world," Lord Casterton noted, his eyes dark as he thought back on his own dismal marriage, "Unfortunately."

The two men parted then, one to find his daughter, the other to observe the behaviour of a certain young lady in the hope that his friend had not been caught in yet another trap, despite what Lord Casterton had said.

There was another person present, besides Lord Casterton, who had taken great interest in Darcy and Elizabeth dancing together; Miss Bingley. She had watched with indignant anger as Darcy had approached Miss Casterton for the first set, unable to believe that he had slighted her in favour of such a woman. Indeed she had been appalled when Charles had insisted on the Casterton's being invited, if only because Miss Casterton was a particular friend of his "angel"; more troubling, however, was the fact that Mr Darcy had taken great exception when Caroline had simply tried to point out the evils of having to spend even more time in such degrading company. She did not know what to make of it all and, determined to discredit her rival once and for all Caroline dragged her sister into a corner to decide what to do. It was as they were talking in a hushed undertone that Mr Collin's wandered past them and Caroline was suddenly struck with an idea. She left Louisa without a word and caught up with the gentleman,

"Mr Collins," she called, drawing his attention. They had not been introduced but Caroline quickly charmed him with polite inquiries as to the health of his patroness, a lady whom she had heard much about.

"Please allow me to compliment you Miss Bingley," Mr Collins intoned with excessive gravity, "Too often do I hear stories of excess and impropriety at evenings such as this, but this evening has been all that is charming and proper. I only wish that others would follow the fine example you set as hostess."

Caroline accepted his compliment, wondering whether the man was blind, or just deaf; how he could have failed to hear Mrs Bennet's effusions about her daughter and Caroline's brother's forthcoming nuptials was beyond her. She would laugh over his stupidity with Louisa later though, for now was the time to put her plan into action.

"I thank you again Mr Collins, and indeed I am in complete agreement. Far too often do you hear of people forgetting themselves; indeed you only have to look at the Casterton's to see the dangers of a loss of virtue."

"Whatever do you mean?" Mr Collins asked with mild alarm and Caroline had to hide her triumphant smile.

"Well, I am loathe to speak of it for it is indeed quite shameful, and it is unchristian to speak ill of others," she added with a stroke of inspiration, "but the truth is that Lord Casterton's late wife's behaviour was quite..."

She trailed off, hoping, somewhat unrealistically, that the dim witted clergyman would understand her intimation; he did not.

"What do you mean, Miss Bingley? I ask that you speak plainly, for if there be anyone in need of my council I must know of it so I can offer them my help."

This was even better than Caroline had hoped and she tried to hide her eagerness as she replied,

"I am sure that your council would be most appreciated Mr Collins, especially by Miss Casterton."

She then proceeded to relate to the increasingly scandalised Mr Collins all the particulars of the Baroness Courtney's disgrace as she knew them, leaving out no detail that she could describe without being too vulgar or explicit. That she embellished a few of the details to include Miss Casterton almost goes without saying.

The shock with which Mr Collins heard this malicious tale can well be imagined and, with his clerical sensibilities aflame, he hastily took leave of Miss Bingley to seek out Miss Casterton in the desperate hope that it was not too late to bring her back into the flock, good shepherd that he was.

He found Elizabeth stood by herself happily watching Jane and Mr Bingley as they danced, envisioning their future together as they enjoyed all the felicity a marriage of true affection can bestow. Mr Darcy stood not too far a distance from her, though the lady herself paid him no attention.

"Miss Casterton," Mr Collins intoned breathlessly, "I must speak to you. Indeed, my dear child, I have been remiss in not doing so before now and I hope that the good Lord can forgive such an oversight; my only defence is that I was ignorant until a few minutes ago as to the danger you are in, but now that I know of it I will naturally do my duty and council you as He himself would wish me to."

"Mr Collins, I," Elizabeth began, surprised and a little overwhelmed by his sudden appearance and subsequent speech. She could not even begin to imagine what he was about. A few people about them cast curious looks in their direction as Mr Collins made no attempt to keep his voice down as he said,

"I only hope that I have come in time, that you may still be made to see that all is not lost, that forgiveness is still possible if you seek to mend your ways before it is too late. Indeed you of all people must know that loss of virtue in a female is irretrievable and that one false step involves her in endless ruin. Your mother's fate only goes to show what happens when a woman forgets herself and that she cannot be too much guarded in her behaviour towards the other sex. I only pray that I have not come too late to help you, to prevent you from following in her footsteps, for you would be lost to us all if it were so. Whatever your sins you can still repent and turn from this path to ruin; indeed, you must do so Miss Casterton before you are completely cast out. Your neighbours have shown you great charity in accepting your company after what your mother did, but they would reject you altogether if you kept up with such behaviour and they came to know of it."

Elizabeth stiffened as Mr Collins' words sunk in and she realised what he was implying. For a moment she forgot to breathe, shock and anger overwhelming her, and she swayed a little; a steadying hand took hold of her arm, gently but firmly, and she felt him coming to stand behind her as she took a gasping breath. She struggled for composure as his deep voice intoned from behind her,

"I don't believe we've been introduced."

Mr Collins looked up at the gentleman who towered above him, his eyes dark and angry.

"William Collins," he replied with a deep bow.

The action seemed to snap the lady back to attention and she pulled her arm from Darcy's hold and hurried away into the crowd as people shared a few significant looks and whispers before dismissing the incident. Darcy watched her go, his heart reaching out to her, before he turned back to the loathsome little man in front of him.

"I suggest, Mr Collins, that you keep your "council" to yourself in future. Especially," he bit out when Collins looked like he was about to argue, "when it is based on nothing but idle and vicious gossip."

"I, but, I," he stammered but Darcy had already turned away, unable to bear the sight of him.

Searching through the crowds, Darcy was relieved to finally spot Lord Casterton talking with Sir William and strode over to him. The elder man looked to him with a welcoming smile which soon faded when he noticed Darcy's forbidding expression.

"Is there a problem?" He asked in an undertone, taking a step away from Sir William towards the younger man.

Darcy nodded and replied, "I fear your daughter has been upset by some thoughtless comments made by a gentleman."

"And which gentleman would that be?" Lord Casterton questioned with a dark frown that made Darcy think that he would be quite intimating when truly angry.

"Mr Collins," Darcy admitted; he could see the other man's surprise and added, "I do not know all the particulars, but I believe he heard some rumours and attempted to offer your daughter some...advice."

Lord Casterton inhaled sharply, his jaw clenched.

"Did you see where she went?" He asked eventually and Darcy shook his head.

"Well, thank you for telling me Darcy," he said and left to seek out his daughter.

Darcy watched him go, torn between leaving Lord Casterton to find his daughter and going after her himself. The memory of how she had leant against him for support, if only for the briefest of moments, made up his mind for him and he began searching through the many rooms full of people.

Elizabeth stood at the balustrade, her arms wrapped around herself to ward off the chill of the late evening breeze. It was so quiet here, away from the ballroom, away from the noise and the prying eyes and thoughtless comments of people like Mr Collins.

As she stood contemplating the night sky she heard the door to the terrace open and felt his approach, somehow knowing who it was who had come after her.

They were silent until Darcy finally asked, "Are you alright?"

"Would it matter if I said I was not?" Came the reply and Darcy took a step forward as he said,

"Of course."

"You care then, do you?" Elizabeth asked coldly, her hands falling to her sides, feeling her sense of calm deserting her.

"I," Darcy began but cut himself off; he did care, very much so, but he knew that he could not admit that to her. "Your father is looking for you," he said eventually.

Elizabeth smiled darkly to herself and then turned, leaving him to stand alone in the darkness without another word.

"Elizabeth," her father said, his relief evident as he spotted her coming in from outside, "there you are." He could see that she was upset and so simply asked, "Shall we go home?"

"Yes please," Elizabeth whispered and her father led her into the front hall.

A few people noticed their absence, but most were too caught up in the spectacle the Bennet family were making of themselves to miss them. One gentleman, however, took note, and it was with resignation that he accepted the fact that it was likely the last time he would ever see the Casterton's.

Chapter 15

When Elizabeth explained to her father what Mr Collins had said to her he was understandably angry and spared no time in going to Longbourn and making his good friend aware of it. Mr Bennet was torn between amusement at having such a hapless man as his cousin and shame at such a feeling. He felt somewhat responsible for the upset caused to Elizabeth, for not attempting to check Mr Collins' behaviour before now, or at the very least informing his cousin of the situation with the Casterton's, and it was this sense of responsibility that led him to act. He summoned the young gentleman to his library where Mr Collins was first made to apologise to Lord Casterton for the insult and then, when their guest had left, subjected to a mild reprimand from Mr Bennet himself. The offence this caused Mr Collins was quite significant; he was sure he had done right, convinced that his patroness would support him in this, and felt himself quite ill-used by the whole Bennet family.

The following day he was still in high dudgeon over the affront to his pride and his sense of moral duty when Charlotte Lucas came to spend the day with the Longbourn ladies. She was greeted by Jane and Kitty, the latter of whom was quick to relate what little she knew of the discord between her father and Mr Collins, before joining the rest of the family and their indignant houseguest in the morning room. Mr Collins met her with much civility (he had thought her a charming lady, if a little plain, the night of the Netherfield ball) and made very attentive enquiries as to how she and her family did. Mrs Bennet, afraid that her husband had ruined all her hard work in forwarding a match between the gentleman and one of her daughters, attempted to smooth over the issue but Mr Collins interrupted her with a solemn air,

"My dear Madam, let us be forever silent on this point. Far be it from me," he continued, in a voice that marked his displeasure, "to criticise your husband. Resignation to inevitable evils is the duty of us all; the peculiar duty of a young man who has been so fortunate as I have been in early preferment; and I trust I am resigned. You will not, I hope, consider me as showing any disrespect to your family or your friends, my dear Madam, when I say that I have certainly meant well through the whole affair. My object was to offer help where I believe it was needed, and if my manner has been at all reprehensible, I here beg leave to apologise."

There was a brief silence following this speech as even Mrs Bennet was at a loss as to how to regain his favour; the gentleman himself demonstrated his feelings on the matter by scarcely speaking to any of the Bennet daughters and transferring his attentions to Miss Lucas for the rest of the day. Indeed, her kindness to him led him so far as to offer to escort her home, an offer which was readily accepted, for Charlotte's kindness was not without purpose. Its object was nothing less than to secure Mr. Collins's addresses for herself and, following Mr Collins' dining with her family the very next evening, she was somewhat assured as to the success of her scheme.

Everything was soon settled between them to the satisfaction of both although there was, however, one aspect of the whole business which gave Charlotte pause, and that was the reaction that Elizabeth, whose friendship she valued beyond all others, would have to the news. Elizabeth would not understand and probably would blame her for making such a decision, and though Charlotte knew she would not change her mind, she was wary of the hurt it would cause them both. She therefore resolved to go to Willoughby Manor the next day, and share the news herself.

Whilst Charlotte was in the process of receiving Mr Collins' addresses, Elizabeth and Jane were sat taking tea together at Willoughby Manor. They chatted aimlessly for a while but Elizabeth, quickly perceiving that all was not well with her friend, ventured the following enquiry,

"Is something troubling you Jane?"

Her friend sighed and nodded, quietly admitting, "I had a letter from Miss Bingley this morning Lizzy."

"And what does the lady have to say for herself?" Elizabeth asked when Jane offered nothing more.

She watched as Jane drew the letter out of the small bag she had brought with her, saying as she did so, "I have it with me, and I must confess that what it contains has surprised me a good deal. The whole party have left Netherfield and are on their way to town without any intention of coming back again." Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest but kept her silence when Jane added, "You shall hear what she says."

Elizabeth listened with scepticism and distrust, knowing more of Miss Bingley's true nature than Jane, in her goodness, ever could. She was surprised by the suddenness of their going and said as much, but did not think that their absence from Netherfield would prevent Mr. Bingley's return. She tried to persuade Jane that this was true, but Jane shook her head and replied,

"Caroline explicitly says that none of the party will return to Hertfordshire this winter. I will read it to you." She looked back to where she had left off,

When my brother left he imagined that the business which took him to London might be concluded in three or four days, but we are certain it cannot be so and are convinced that when Charles gets to town he will be in no hurry to leave it again, which is why we have decided to follow him there.

"It is evident by this," Jane stated, trying admirably not to show how much this news affected her, "that he comes back no more this winter."

"It is only evident that Miss Bingley does not mean he should," Elizabeth argued, despising Caroline all the more for trying to deceive her dear friend.

"He is his own master Lizzy," Jane replied before adding, "but you do not know all. I will read you the passage which particularly hurts me. I will have no reserves from you."

Jane took a breath and then read,

Mr. Darcy is impatient to see his sister, and to confess the truth, we are scarcely less eager to meet her again. I really do not think Georgiana Darcy has her equal for beauty, elegance, and accomplishments; and the affection she inspires in Louisa and myself is heightened into something still more interesting, from the hope we dare to entertain of her being hereafter our sister. My brother admires her greatly already, he will have frequent opportunity now of seeing her on the most intimate footing, her relations all wish the connection as much as his own, and a sister's partiality is not misleading me, I think, when I call Charles most capable of engaging any woman's heart. With all these circumstances to favour an attachment and nothing to prevent it, am I wrong, my dearest Jane, in indulging the hope of an event which will secure the happiness of so many?

"What think you of this sentence, my dear Lizzy," Jane asked as she finished it. "Is it not clear enough? Does it not expressly declare that Caroline neither expects nor wishes me to be her sister; that she is perfectly convinced of her brother's indifference, and that if she suspects the nature of my feelings for him, she means (most kindly!) to put me on my guard? Can there be any other opinion on the subject?"

"Yes, there can," Elizabeth exclaimed, taking hold of Jane's hand, "for mine is totally different. Will you hear it?"

"Most willingly."

"You shall have it in few words. Miss Bingley sees that her brother is in love with you, but she wants him to marry Miss Darcy so that she can marry Mr Darcy," Elizabeth explained simply, her easy tone belying the anger she felt towards the Bingley sisters. "She follows Mr Bingley to town in the hope of keeping him there, and is simply trying to persuade you that he does not care about you."

Jane shook her head.

"Indeed, Jane, you ought to believe me!" Elizabeth argued, knowing that Jane, in her modesty, was likely to be easily deceived by Miss Bingley's word. "No one who has ever seen you together can doubt his affection. Miss Bingley I am sure cannot and that is why she tries to trick you into believing her brother does not care for you; you are not rich enough, or grand enough, for her, but she forgets that she cannot simply make her brother love her friend when it is so obvious that he is in love with you!"

"I cannot believe Caroline is capable of wilful deceit," Jane replied, shaking her head. "All I can hope for is that she is deceived herself."

Elizabeth smiled lovingly at this speech from her friend even as she wondered at such lack of perspicacity, "Very well Jane, believe her to be deceived if you wish. At least that way you have done your duty by her and no longer need to fret."

"I cannot help but wonder Lizzy," Jane began after a moment of troubled reflection, "whether I can be happy, supposing my hopes are rewarded, in accepting a man whose sisters and friends are all wishing him to marry elsewhere."

"I suppose you must chose who you wish to make miserable," said Elizabeth with a smile in her voice "either Mr Bingley's sisters, or Mr Bingley and yourself. Because, in this case dear Jane, I fear that you cannot make everyone happy."

"How can you talk so," Jane asked with a faint blush as she admitted, "you must know that I would not hesitate, that there would be no choice."

"I didn't think there would be," Elizabeth replied with a happy smile, glad to hear that her friend would put her own happiness first in this instance.

"But it may be that my choice will never be required," Jane pointed out, "A thousand things may arise in six months!"

Elizabeth dismissed such concerns and set about convincing her friend that she was right, pleased when Jane began to come round, gradually beginning to hope once more that Bingley would return to Netherfield and answer every wish of her heart. When the two friends took leave of each other, Jane left with a much lighter spirit than which she had come whilst Elizabeth, however, free to give vent to her true feelings, could barely contain her contempt for the scheming and manipulative Miss Bingley. Oh, how she wished Caroline were before her now, so that Elizabeth could tell her exactly what she thought of her. To try and take advantage of Jane! Of all people! She only hoped that her belief in the strength of Mr Bingley's affections, and in his being a man of independence, was not ill founded, for she could not bear to see Jane hurt.

Charlotte Lucas called soon after breakfast the next day and in a private conference with Elizabeth related the event of the day before. The possibility of Mr Collins's fancying himself in love with her friend was not so unbelievable to Elizabeth as the fact that Charlotte could have encouraged and accepted him, and her astonishment was so great as to overcome the bounds of decorum.

"Engaged to Mr. Collins!" She cried, appalled by the very idea of it, "Impossible! Oh please Charlotte, tell me it is not true!"

That Charlotte had been prepared for some objection from her friend was true, but such a direct reproach took her off guard for a moment before, recovering her composure, she asked,

"Why are you so surprised Lizzy? Do you think that just because you do not like Mr Collins that he is incapable of procuring any woman's good opinion?"

"I do not care either way whether Mr Collins is capable or not of winning a woman's favour," Elizabeth replied, "only that I know that he cannot have possibly procured yours."

"Are you so sure?" Charlotte challenged even though she knew her friend spoke the truth.

"Yes," Elizabeth averred, "even were it not for his insult to me, which I know you of all people could not overlook so easily, being one of my closest friends. You are too sensible to ever esteem such a man as he Charlotte, I know you are."

"Perhaps not," Charlotte admitted "but I hope that when you have had time to think it all over you will accept what I have done." Elizabeth looked unconvinced so she went on, "I am not romantic you know, I never was. I ask only a comfortable home; and considering Mr. Collins's connections, and situation in life, I am convinced that my chance of happiness with him is as fair as most people can boast on entering the marriage state."

Elizabeth listened with increasing disbelief and disappointment, unable to believe that her good friend was doing this.

"His connections and situation in life?" She repeated blankly, "Is that all that matters?"

"What else is there?" Charlotte challenged and Elizabeth just looked at her, her eyes clearly expressing her disappointment.

There was an awkward pause as the two friends sat together, wondering what was to become of their friendship. Charlotte did not stay much longer and Elizabeth was left to stew over what she had just heard. She had always known that Charlotte's opinion of matrimony was not exactly like her own, but she had never really believed that, when it came to it, Charlotte would have sacrificed everything to worldly advantage. She could not believe it and the pain of seeing her friend sink so far in her esteem was compounded by the knowledge that said friend would never be happy with the lot she had chosen. Elizabeth knew then that no real confidence could ever subsist between her and Charlotte again and mourned the loss of their friendship, thankful that she still had dear Jane and Mrs Burrows.