Beginning, Part Two, Section II, Next Section

Chapter 7

Posted on September 24, 2009

Georgiana Darcy was not sure whose face looked worse; Miss Casterton's, with all her bruises and the dreadful cut, or her father's on seeing said injuries for the first time. Whether he had believed his daughter only to have taken a fall, Georgiana did not know, but it was clear from his expression and subsequent actions that he did not believe so now.

"My god," he murmured, as though in a daze; he then hurried over to his daughter and dropped to his knees before her, drawing her into his arms, gingerly encouraging her to lay her head upon his shoulder. He could feel her shaking as silent tears streamed down her face and onto his coat and he tightened his arms about her. "Shh, all is well. I am here now, you are safe. All is well."

"I'm sorry," Elizabeth whispered brokenly. "This is my fault, I didn't listen to you..."

"Enough of that," her father soothed, stroking her hair. "Do not think of it."

Elizabeth nodded and buried her face into her father's neck, closing her eyes in a bid to shut out the memories that were assaulting her. She wasn't sure how long they remained in their position, though it was surely long enough for her father's knees to begin to pain him; he made no complaint however, and only stirred when there was a knock at the door and the apothecary was announced. He was a kindly man who had tended to many a bump and scrape in Elizabeth's lifetime and was subsequently well known to both father and daughter. Elizabeth still could not be completely at ease in his company, however, and looked to her father with pleading eyes when he moved to leave the room; he thus remained whilst Georgiana and the housekeeper quietly excused himself.

Sat upon the bed with one of her hands firmly clasped in her father's, Elizabeth watched with a strange sense of disconnection as the apothecary carefully examined her face before moving to her arms. There were bruises there now as well and Elizabeth only then remembered how Wickham had grasped her, evidently quite roughly by the shade and size of the bruises he had left. Strange, how it hadn't seemed to hurt at the time.

"Miss Elizabeth?"

The apothecary's voice pulled her from her wandering thoughts and she focused her vacant eyes on him, "Yes?"

"Fortunately the cut on your face is not too deep; wounds to the face and head always bleed profusely making them appear worse than they are. I will not stitch it and shall leave you a special salve; if you are careful and keep it clean it should heal well and you will hopefully not be left with a scar."

Elizabeth nodded, noting her father's relieved smile and the pat he gave to her hand; he was glad that she would not be forced to confront the memory of this day every time she looked in the mirror. Thank god for small mercies.

"Now," the apothecary began again, looking and sounded terribly reluctant and uncomfortable. "I must ask you, Miss Elizabeth, whether you have any other injuries besides those which I have already seen. Did your...attacker...injure you in any other way?"

His daughter could not have taken more than a second to reply, but that second felt like a lifetime to Lord Casterton; his hand tightened liked a vice around his daughter's and he did not breathe, nor did his heart beat until he finally heard her say,

"No, he did not."

Both Elizabeth and the other gentleman heard her father's sigh of relief and Elizabeth squeezed his hand as the apothecary smiled at him kindly and quietly said, "Then that is well."

Soon afterwards the housekeeper and Miss Darcy were called back into the room; the former to help prepare a tonic to help Miss Casterton sleep and the latter at Elizabeth's request, who wished to thank the younger girl once more. If Georgiana blushed when Miss Casterton expressed her gratitude, she positively shone with embarrassed modesty when Lord Casterton also thanked her, solemnly and earnestly.

"I..." she stammered, attempting to overcome her usual reserve, "I truly did nothing remarkable."

"I beg to differ my dear," Lord Casterton replied with a smile for the shy young lady before taking pity on her and adding, "But I can see you are embarrassed with my praise and shall spare you any further compliments."

"Thank you," Georgiana replied, managing a smile for the kind gentleman.

Though he wished to take her home to Willoughby, Lord Casterton had accepted the apothecary's decision to let Elizabeth rest here first and sat by her side and held her hand until the tonic took effect and she drifted off into a peaceful sleep. Fearing that her tranquillity would not last long and wanting to be there when she awoke he asked Miss Darcy to remain with his daughter whilst he went and spoke to Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley. Georgiana willingly assented and with a final kiss to his daughter's forehead Lord Casterton reluctantly departed.

"My lord."

The two younger men jumped to their feet as he entered the room, but Lord Casterton was far too preoccupied and shaken to attempt civility; he looked at his host and stated,

"I need a drink sir, a strong one."

Blinking in surprise it took Bingley a moment to react before he left himself to fetch his lordship a glass of brandy. Darcy looked at the elder man for a moment before suggesting,

"Perhaps you should take a seat, my lord."

"And perhaps you should tell me what you know," Lord Casterton countered as he nevertheless did as Darcy suggested, slowly sinking into a seat opposite the one Darcy had occupied and which he resumed with a heavy sigh.

"I do not know much my lord, beyond what I witnessed and what your daughter told me." Lord Casterton gestured for him to continue and Darcy did so, albeit with great reluctance. "We were on the road to Netherfield when Bingley's coachman called our attention to a young lady who had stumbled onto the road. As we approached I recognised your daughter and when we questioned her she admitted that she had been...accosted in the woods." Lord Casterton closed his eyes as an expression of pain passed over his already worn face. "We escorted your daughter to the carriage where my sister watched over her whilst Bingley sent men into the woods, and one to Willoughby to fetch you. We have received word that her attacker has been apprehended and is now being held in Meryton."

Darcy was not sure why he avoided the mention of Wickham's name and was relieved when Lord Casterton did not immediately press him to reveal it; instead his lordship seemed surprised by the last of what Darcy had related.

"He has been apprehended already? He was fool enough to stay in the vicinity?"

"Not by choice, my lord," Darcy replied with a small smile as he admitted, "Your daughter struck him between the legs, effectively disabling him and affecting her escape."

"That's my Lizzy," Lord Casterton whispered to himself and the two lapsed into silence for a brief moment, both occupied with thoughts of Elizabeth and her obvious bravery.

"Her attacker," Lord Casterton said after a moment, breaking the silence, "who was it?"

Darcy hesitated for a long moment, attempting to quell his anger before he replied, "Lieutenant Wickham."

"I feared as much," Lord Casterton muttered darkly; he caught Darcy's surprised look and felt compelled to explain.

"My daughter recently took it upon herself to reveal something of that man's true character and no doubt incurred his wrath in the process. He was supposed to be confined to quarters but still I was not easy with him in the area. I told Elizabeth that she was not to leave the estate until he was gone from here but she obviously thought my fears unfounded. I am heartily sorry to have been proven right," he added in a voice suddenly thick with grief and remorse.

Darcy leant forward and placed his hand upon Lord Casterton's shoulder, trying to infuse some strength into the clearly struggling father. He was still uncertain as to what had happened between Miss Casterton and Wickham but could not think of a way to ask about it without seeming intrusive. As it was Bingley arrived then, followed by a servant bearing a tray with several glasses on it. He shrugged and said by way of explanation,

"I realised that we are probably all in need of a strong drink."

Lord Casterton took his glass with a hand that shook ever so slightly and savoured the warm liquid sliding down his throat; he rarely indulged but this was an occasion that he felt warranted something stronger than usual. The three men sat in heavy silence until Darcy summoned the courage to ask,

"How is your daughter, my lord?"

"She is sleeping now," Lord Casterton replied quietly before taking another sip of his drink and adding, "Her face and arms are bruised but with time they, and the cut on her face, should heal. Physically at least, she will be well soon."

He glanced up at that moment to find Mr Darcy's eyes intent upon him, the striking blue irises clearly asking him the question which no gentleman would ever ask aloud; Lord Casterton felt that he should have expected such concern as he answered the unasked question.

"She was not harmed in any other way, thank god."

Darcy visibly relaxed and returned Lord Casterton's almost imperceptible nod with one of his own as Bingley said,

"Yes, thank god for that. I hope you know, my lord that my house is open to you for as long as Miss Casterton needs to recover."

"Thank you sir," Lord Casterton replied, glancing up at the young man beside him. "She is resting now and will hopefully continue to do so for the remainder of the day; I will take her home to Willoughby later on today or tomorrow at the latest."

"Then I will have a room made up for you, my lord, just in case you need to stay. The one next to your daughter's is free," he added sensibly when Lord Casterton opened his mouth to speak.

"Thank you Bingley. For everything," he added humbly, looking between the two younger gentlemen. "And you as well Mr Darcy; I shudder to think what would have happened if you had not..." Unable to continue he trailed off and the two friends shared a look before Darcy quietly said,

"You need not thank us, my lord. And your daughter is safe now and will, god willing, soon be well."

"Yes," Lord Casterton breathed, blinking rapidly as he regained his composure. "Yes, you are right."

"Is there anything we can do for you?" Darcy prompted, wanting to be of use.

"I should like to write to Mrs Burrows," Lord Casterton admitted after a moment. "She and Elizabeth have always been close and I know she will be a great help; if I pen a note, could you see that it is delivered to her?"

"Of course my lord," Bingley assured him. "Is there anything else we can do?"

"You say Wickham is in custody?" Lord Casterton queried, adding when Darcy nodded. "I know I should be the one to go, but the thought of leaving Elizabeth..." He shook his head and looked to Darcy. "Would you go on my behalf? I will meet with the relevant people in time, but for now I simply wish to know for certain that that monster will not escape for a second time."

"I will go right away," Darcy vowed, adding silently to himself, and I will ensure that Wickham never sees the light of day.

The three men finished off their drinks and stood, ready to go their separate ways; Lord Casterton to his daughter, Mr Bingley in search of his housekeeper and Mr Darcy to his room to change into riding clothes. As he and Lord Casterton climbed the stairs side by side Darcy surruptiously kept his eyes on the other man, concerned by his worn appearance. His observation was not as discreet as he had hoped, however, as evidenced by Lord Casterton's quiet chuckle as he said,

"I am in no danger of toppling down these stairs sir; you need not watch me quite so closely."

"Forgive me," Darcy stammered, almost flushing at being caught. "I did not..."

"Do not make yourself uneasy Darcy, I appreciate your concern," Lord Casterton assured the flustered young man. "You seem determined to take care of us," he added with a smile and a light in his eyes. He was surprised when Darcy frowned down at his boots and wondered whether his suspicions were in fact incorrect.

In truth Darcy was preoccupied with the thought of his failings when it came to the Casterton family and was ashamed of the praise he knew he did not deserve. It made him feel ten times worse than before because he knew that Lord Casterton was an astute man who no doubt recognised how lacking Darcy's behaviour had been in the past; that he was willing to overlook it all was, Darcy felt, a clear testament to his good character, and Darcy's flawed one.

"Please do not thank me, my lord," he replied eventually, missing the look of surprise on Lord Casterton's face as he was still determinedly studying his boots. "I am not so conceited as to believe myself worthy of your friendship, given my past behaviour, but I hope still to do all that I may for you and your family; I do so out of consciousness of prior mistakes, not a desire to win your praise."

"But is not the desire to atone for prior mistakes praiseworthy in its self?" Lord Casterton countered calmly, watching Darcy closely with his almost uncomfortably perceptive eyes.

"The act of atonement, yes; the mere desire to atone, no," Darcy replied evenly.

Lord Casterton smiled at his reply and just before turning to head in the direction of his daughter's room, said, "You seem to be acting on your desire sir, quite admirably in fact."

Darcy at first frowned at Lord Casterton's words but slowly a smile appeared on his face as he realised that their entire conversation was indeed evidence of how he had changed; humbling himself in such a manner, even to one he had wronged, would have been intolerable to him in the past. He had said that he did not act out of desire to win Lord Casterton's praise but he was honest enough to admit that he was happy to receive his praise nonetheless.

The appearance of his sister in the hallway drew Darcy from his thoughts and wishing to speak to her he invited her into his chamber; she followed him in silence, not speaking until the door clinked into place behind them. She walked over to a window as she quietly stated,

"It was Mr Wickham, wasn't it. The man who attacked Miss Casterton."

"Yes," Darcy replied with surprise. "How did you...?"

"Miss Casterton was dreaming, having a nightmare," Georgiana explained with a troubled expression. "She said his name."

"Are you well?" Darcy asked, coming forward and placing his hands on his sister's shoulders, watching her closely.

"I am fine," Georgiana assured him truthfully. "I won't deny that it was a shock but...I am more worried about Miss Casterton than myself," she admitted with a slight tremor in her voice. "He is such an awful man," she whispered in anguish and Darcy pulled her into his arms, resting his cheek atop her head.

The siblings spent a few moments comforting one another in such a manner until Georgiana stepped back, wiping away a stray tear as she asked, "You are going to see him?"

"Yes; Lord Casterton asked me to go." Darcy affirmed with a grim expression.

"Promise me you will not do anything rash," Georgiana replied, laying her hand on his arm. "He may deserve it but please, do not do anything that will lower you to his level."

"I promise," Darcy assured her soberly; he smiled slightly as he teased, "When did you become so sensible?"

His sister shrugged but the answer hung in the air between them until Darcy cleared his throat and briskly proclaimed, "Well, I must change and be off. You will be alright here?"

"Yes," Georgiana assured him. "Lord Casterton is with his daughter now so I will go and sit with Mrs Annesley."

After bidding farewell to his sister Darcy called for his valet, changing into his riding things as quickly as possible. His own desire to see Wickham punished was augmented by the trust Lord Casterton had placed in him and it was with a resolute step that he left Netherfield, a dark, forbidding expression falling into place as he steeled himself for what he knew would be a difficult encounter. His sister's words came back to him as he rode away from the estate and he was determined to keep his promise to her, no matter what Wickham said or did

Chapter 8

Posted on October 1, 2009

Hearing a commotion outside of his room, Wickham gingerly came to his feet, wincing and letting out a hiss at the lingering pain left by Miss Casterton's assault upon his person. He steadied himself with a hand on the back of the chair, listening to the raised voices echoing into the small chamber where he had been roughly deposited by Mr Bingley's two servants. Alone, with no one to witness his reaction, Wickham allowed himself to admit that he was somewhat worried about what was to happen to him now. His earlier confidence had been knocked out of him (quite literally) and he awaited his fate with a good deal of trepidation; with desertion and assault the two strikes against him, the punishment would no doubt be severe. He cursed his ill luck, his impetuous decision to accost Miss Casterton and her subsequent actions and wished that he had simply made his escape whilst he had the chance.

Distracted from his thoughts by the sudden silence outside of his room, Wickham slowly crept over to the door to better hear what was going on. When conversation recommenced he could make out Colonel Forster's distinctive baritone but the other voice also seemed strangely familiar...Suddenly the door to the room was thrust open and Wickham jumped back guilty, unable to control the impulse. He flushed upon witnessing the entrants amused smirk at his expense, though his embarrassment soon flourished into anger; indeed it had been many years since Wickham had been able to be in his presence without that accompanying emotion.

"Hello George," Darcy eventually greeted his former friend, turning slightly to close the door behind him. He caught a glimpse of Colonel Forster and several of his officer's watching him warily but he paid them no heed, all his concentration centred on the other occupant of this room.

"Darcy," Wickham replied with a nod, hiding his surprise at his appearance behind a vicious sneer. "Come to pay your old friend a visit?"

"Something like that," Darcy affirmed, his eyes sweeping over his foe; he could not help but notice how awkwardly Wickham appeared to be standing and let a satisfied smile escape.

"What's so funny?" Wickham demanded angrily and Darcy was struck by the sudden impression that Wickham was like an animal cornered, vicious and angry but ultimately trapped.

"Still a little sore?" Darcy taunted in response, unable to help himself, a little ashamed of himself but also wickedly satisfied when Wickham snarled in reply,

"Oh, go to hell you bast..."

"Do not insult my mother or my father's memory Wickham," Darcy warned him in a dangerous voice which Wickham recklessly ignored as he scoffed and replied,

"Your father?! If you think your mother even knew his name, you deceive yourself!"

Wickham saw the rage flare in the eyes of his taller, stronger and generally more powerful adversary and went to take a hasty step out of his reach; he had forgotten about his injury however and moaned pitifully as the pain once again reasserted itself. He was bent double and thus could not see Darcy's expression as he looked upon his former friend, unable to believe that this pathetic creature had been the source of so much pain and suffering. He had allowed Wickham too much power over him and his family, but no more.

"You're to be court marshalled, George, and likely shot," he explained with eerie calm; Wickham looked up at him in alarm and made an effort to stand upright as Darcy continued. "You sealed your own fate the moment you left this place this morning. I wish I could say I'm sorry but..." Darcy shook his head and took a moment before finally saying, "There was something I wanted to ask you."

"Oh really, and what was that?" Wickham asked with his usual impudence though inwardly he was wary.

"What did Miss Casterton ever do to you?" Darcy questioned, watching Wickham carefully as he elaborated. "What did she do to warrant not one attack, but two?"

"What's it to you?" Wickham replied peevishly; he suddenly let out a disbelieving laugh as the truth hit him, "Oh no! That is too precious. Do not tell me you have fallen for her charms?! You know that her mother was a whore, don't you? Although I suppose the Lady Casterton could certainly have taught her daughter a thing or two in her time; have you been enjoying more than the country air Darcy?"

"Wickham," Darcy bit out, looking murderous. "I am within a hair's breadth of beating you senseless; and trust me, no one would intervene on your behalf. Now answer the question."

Disappointed at the lack of reaction from Darcy but still wary of his threat, Wickham regarded the other man for a long moment before admitting,

"I never touched her or did anything to her before today."

"Do not lie to me," Darcy shouted; Colonel Forster had already acquainted him with the particulars of Wickham's prior encounter with Elizabeth and he was in no mood for more lies.

"I'm not," Wickham protested. "You can ask her yourself. She orchestrated it all herself! All the stories about my debts and how you had discharged them and about the money you gave me in lieu of the living all came from her; she used them to turn the town against me."

"What about your meeting in Meryton? Can you deny your mistreatment of her then?"

"Yes!" Wickham emphatically exclaimed before adding bitterly, "Though she would have deserved it if I had abused her. But I didn't," he claimed as Darcy looked at him with obvious disbelief. "I won't deny that we crossed words, but I never said anything to warrant her reaction."

"There were witnesses, Wickham," Darcy pointed out coldly, unable to stomach his deceit for much longer and yet strangely compelled to hear Wickham out.

"For Christ's sake, I'm telling the truth!" Wickham argued, losing his temper. "The wench framed me! She made it look like I'd insulted her to get me out of the way; she told me as much herself."

"You're lying," Darcy shook his head in denial, earning a cold laugh from Wickham.

"What's the matter Darcy, can't bear to admit that your lady love isn't who you thought she was?" He taunted, taking cruel satisfaction from Darcy's troubled expression and hastening to add insult to injury.

"Well I'll tell you now that she is anything but the lady she appears; she is scheming and manipulative and conniving and is better to suited to me than to you." He raked a contemptuous glare over his former friend as he added with a sneer, "She'd end up just like her mother if she got stuck with you; bored out her wits and looking for amusement elsewhere. Trust me Darcy, I've already had a taste and she's too rich for your blood."

Pushed beyond reason, beyond even his determination to keep his promise to his sister Darcy lashed out, his fist connecting squarely with Wickham's face. The noise the impact made was surprisingly loud but it was nothing to the noise Wickham made as he stumbled sideways, colliding first with the chair and then the small coffee table. Behind him the door was opened as two officers rushed in to see what was happening but Darcy was too preoccupied with the man on the floor by his feet, his fists balled at his sides as he struggled for control. He waited until Wickham had got to his feet to say,

"That was for Miss Casterton. And this," his fist once again connected with Wickham's face, "is for my sister."

Wickham clutched his bleeding nose as he looked up at the man towering over him; Darcy took a moment to memorise his face at that moment, wanting to remember how pathetic Wickham had seemed in the end. Feeling no remorse he bid his old friend a final farewell.

"I'm sorry you never became the man your father and mine hoped you would."

With that he walked out of the room, leaving Wickham's fellow officers to deal with the mess. As he entered the adjacent chamber he noted that all eyes were upon him but felt no desire to show regret he did not feel; with a resolute step he approached Colonel Forster and said,

"Lord Casterton will likely be here tomorrow; be sure that Wickham is guarded, and by those who can be trusted," he added meaningfully with a glance at where Denny sat on a chair in the corner, looking pale and worried. Taking pity on the hapless man he looked back to the Colonel and with a nod to the young officer said, "He is simply a fool; punish him as you see fit, but I do not believe he should share Wickham's fate."

"Very well," Colonel Forster agreed with a stern look at Denny who nevertheless appeared relieved by his reprieve. "We will expect Lord Casterton tomorrow then."

"Very good," Darcy replied. He retrieved his hat and gloves, pulling the latter on with difficulty over his painful and rapidly swelling knuckles. "Thank you for your time."

Colonel Forster laid a hand on his arm before he could depart. "Would you tell Lord Casterton that I wish his daughter well?"

"I shall," Darcy assured him and then took his leave. He hesitated in the doorway and, without turning back to face the colonel said, "I hope the story of this whole incident will go no further than this room?"

"What incident?" Colonel Forster replied evenly and Darcy nodded before finally exiting. Once outside he found that his horse was already waiting for him and he quickly mounted, impatient to be back at Netherfield and for any more news of Elizabeth.

It was not long after Darcy left the barracks to travel back to Netherfield that Elizabeth awoke, as even the tonic given to her could not overcome her natural tendency to sleep but a little. Its effects still lingered, however, and it was with an effort that she opened her eyes, her mind foggy and confused. She heard her father's voice from a long way off and blinked several times, attempting to focus on him and what he was saying.

"Go back to sleep Lizzy."

"But I'm not tired," Elizabeth protested, attempting to sit up. She sounded almost as petulant as she had as a child when he had tucked her into bed, invariably against her youthful will.

"You should rest," her father argued, trying to encourage her to lie back down. He hesitated when Elizabeth's eyes met his and he saw the shadows haunting their depths.

"Please, I'm not an invalid. I do not want to stay here, nor do I want to sleep with only the memories to keep me company."

"I am here with you Lizzy; I will not leave your side," her father promised her and she smiled at his devotion even as quietly pointed out,

"And yet even your presence cannot keep the dreams at bay. Please papa, let me up."

Though he hesitated for long moment, her father was about to voice his acquiescence when the quiet of the chamber was broken by the sound of Elizabeth's stomach rumbling. Father and daughter regarded one another with equal surprise before almost simultaneously laughing.

"Hungry, my dear?" Lord Casterton teased, still chuckling.

"So it would seem," Elizabeth replied with a twinkle in her eye. "My body is letting its thoughts be known on my having skipped breakfast I suppose."

"I will have something prepared for you," her father assured her, rising to pull the chord to summon a servant.

"Do you think I could possibly have a bath?" Elizabeth tentatively ventured as they awaited the maid. "It would not be too much trouble?"

"I sincerely doubt it will be a problem my dear," Lord Casterton replied, instantly perceiving how desperately his daughter wished to have this request granted. Little that he could understand what she had been through that morning, he could still easily understand her desire to wash away any lingering traces.

The housekeeper herself soon appeared, trailed by two housemaids who were old enough and sensible enough to show no reaction to the bruising on Elizabeth's face. Lord Casterton made his requests and the two maids set about arranging everything in preparation for Elizabeth's bath as the housekeeper told her that she would see about finding a clean gown for Elizabeth to change into.

"And I will have our cook prepare a nice hearty meal for you Miss," she added with a kindly smile. "Would a bowl of soup and some fresh baked bread suit you?"

"That sounds delightful, thank you," Elizabeth replied, managing to muster a genuine smile.

There was a knock at the door as it was hesitantly pushed open enough to allow Miss Darcy to peer into the room, "May I come in?"

"Of course," Lord Casterton replied after ascertaining from Elizabeth's expression that she welcomed the younger girl's appearance.

"I was on my way past your chamber when I heard voices," Georgiana explained, coming forward into the room. "I thought that I would see how you are feeling, Miss Casterton."

"Please, call me Lizzy," Elizabeth invited before adding, "And I am feeling quite well, Miss Darcy."

"I'm glad," Georgiana replied shyly; she smiled as she in turn invited, "But you must call me Georgiana if I am to call you Lizzy."

"Then I shall," Elizabeth assured her, pleased when Georgiana smiled more confidently. She was puzzled though when her new friend looked to her father and said,

"I believe my brother is just now returning, my lord. I saw him from the window in my chamber."

"Thank you," Lord Casterton replied; he came to his feet as he explained to his daughter, "I should go and speak with him; you will be alright with Miss Darcy for company?"

"I shall be fine," Elizabeth assured him, questioning him with her eyes. He merely patted her hand and pressed a kiss to her uninjured cheek, gestures which clearly conveyed his decision not to explain anything at that time.

Though she could not help but wonder what was going on, Elizabeth kept her curiosity to herself and turned instead to Miss Darcy, who now occupied the seat just vacated by her father.

"Thank you for coming to see me; I fear I would go quite mad left here all alone," she teased though her words had more truth to them than she was willing to admit.

"I am happy to keep you company. Indeed, I am very happy to finally meet you at last," Georgiana admitted with an enthusiastic smile.

"At last?" Elizabeth queried curiously.

"Yes, for I have heard so much about you," Georgiana replied innocently, not noticing Elizabeth's dubious expression which she quickly tried to hide.

"I have heard quite a bit about you too," she admitted instead. "I understand that you are fond of music, and play very well."

"Oh, no," Georgiana denied with a blush. "Not very well. I am fond of music though. I should dearly love to hear you sing," she enthused, smiling as she added, "My brother has told me he has rarely heard anything that gave him more pleasure."

"Well," Elizabeth replied with a blush of her own at the thought of Mr Darcy praising her to anyone, let alone his beloved little sister. "I promise that I shall sing for you during your stay here in Hertfordshire. I must warn you though, that your brother has grossly exaggerated my talents; no doubt for some mischievous reason of his own," she teased but Georgiana shook her head.

"Oh, no, that could not be so. My brother never exaggerates; he cannot abide pretence and is always honest in his assessments. Although sometimes I think he is a little too kind to me," she added with a loving smile.

"An ideal elder brother, then," Elizabeth noted, watching the other girl with something akin to envy.

"Yes! I couldn't imagine a better or a kinder one."

"You make me feel quite envious," Elizabeth admitted with a light laugh. "I have no brothers or sisters."

"I should have liked to have a sister." Georgiana replied with all the appearance of innocence; her new friend was perhaps not entirely fooled, judging by the way she turned to look sharply at her but Georgiana deftly moved the conversation along. "Perhaps we could play a duet together, once you are well again?"

"I would like that," Elizabeth agreed, wondering as she did so what Mr Darcy would think of his sister's befriending her. But then he hadn't appeared displeased earlier. Indeed, he had been all that was kind and solicitous, so much so that Elizabeth almost felt uncomfortable as she thought of it, feeling that she did not deserve such consideration from him.

"Elizabeth?" Georgiana prompted when she did not seem to hear her.

"Forgive me," Elizabeth replied quickly with a smile; "I was lost in my thoughts."

"It is quite alright," Georgiana assured her quietly. She hesitated a long moment before saying, "I hope you...I cannot begin to imagine what you must be feeling but I...I hope you are well," she finished lamely but Elizabeth understood her nonetheless.

Taking the younger girl's hand, somehow knowing that Georgiana knew the identity of her attacker, she eventually replied, "I will be well in time. The experience was...not a pleasant one, but I think you of all people know that with the support of loved ones these things can be overcome. I am sure with my father and my friends to take care of me I will be right as rain again soon."

They shared a moment of silent understanding; their experiences were different, it was true, but they had both been used by the same man and had their sense of security threatened by his selfish actions. Both shared a determination to not let him win and took comfort from the fact that they were not alone in their struggle.

"Come," Elizabeth breathed eventually, trying to shake off her dark thoughts. "Let us speak of something else. Tell me about your home; I have never been to Derbyshire but am told it is very beautiful."

Elizabeth could not have chosen a better topic to coax Georgiana out of her shell and she listened with pleasure as the other girl happily sung her beloved home county's praises, almost managing to forget all that had happened to her that morning.

"Damn," Darcy hissed as he gingerly flexed his fingers in and out, trying to work out the pain in his knuckles. If anything the exercise simply made the pain worse and he resigned himself to the fact that his hand would be of little use for the next few days. "Damn."

"Problems, Darcy?" Lord Casterton surprised the younger man by saying as he entered Bingley's library where Darcy was waiting for him.

Darcy span around guiltily, hiding his hand behind his back as he replied, "No...no, my lord."

Lord Casterton arched his brow in a manner very reminiscent of his daughter as he regarded Darcy in silent anticipation. Darcy inwardly squirmed under his scrutiny, wondering what it was about this gentleman that could make him feel like a young lad of eighteen again. Eventually he caved under the pressure, his shoulders slumping and his carefully neutral facade slipping away; Lord Casterton gave an approving nod before coming forward, saying as he did so,

"Show me."

Darcy brought his hand out from its hiding place, holding it out in front of him for Lord Casterton to see. The elder man's brows rose for a moment before settling into a frown.

"You should have this seen to," he told Darcy, adding when he looked about to protest. "The bone could be broken; it should be strapped up if so. I can send my doctor to you if you like; he lives not far from here," he offered, pleased when Darcy nodded his assent. "Good man."

"Now," Lord Casterton intoned soberly, stepping away and looking up at Darcy. "It requires no stretch of the imagination to realise how you injured your hand; the question is, what has become of Wickham now?"

"He is being guarded by Colonel Forster and his men," Darcy replied after a moment of embarrassed silence, again wondering at his desire for Lord Casterton's approval. "I have acquainted him with all the particulars of this morning; my testimony and that of Bingley's men were all that was required to convince him of Wickham's guilt."

"And what is to be done to him?" Lord Casterton asked evenly, watching as Darcy's shoulders slumped even further as he replied,

"He will face a court martial; Colonel Forster is not inclined to be lenient so it is likely he will be shot. His attempt at desertion would perhaps not have warranted such a severe punishment, but his attack upon your daughter...the two things combined have condemned him."

"I cannot say that I am sorry for it," Lord Casterton admitted after a heavy silence, "though I can see that you are."

"I am sorry that it has come to this," Darcy confessed, adding almost to himself, "though I am glad that my father did not live to see it."

"You know that none of this is your fault, don't you?" Lord Casterton questioned suddenly, perturbed by Darcy's guilty mien. "You are not responsible for him."

"Perhaps not," Darcy replied, "but I am responsible for my own actions and they have been seriously lacking in this regard; I knew what danger Wickham posed and yet said nothing about it. It was through my mistaken pride that Mr Wickham's character was not made known before now; had I not thought it beneath me to lay my private actions open, his character would have been exposed and your daughter would have remained unharmed."

That thought had been at the back of his mind since coming across Miss Casterton that morning; finally voicing it aloud was almost more than he could bear and the weight of his remorse pressed down heavily upon him. He was pulled from his recriminations by Lord Casterton's hand upon his shoulder as he firmly told him,

"Mr Darcy, you take too much upon yourself. You are not to blame here; Elizabeth knew who she was dealing with when she decided to confront Mr Wickham, though she clearly underestimated his desire to avenge himself. My girl has always been impetuous," he added with a sad smile. "This time, however, she went too far for her own good. That being said, the only person to blame here is Mr Wickham himself."

"It is true then?" Darcy questioned with considerable disbelief and surprise. "Wickham told me that he had not wronged her before today, that if anything he had been the innocent party in their exchange; I dismissed his words as lies, naturally, but you tell me that what he said was true?"

"Yes," Lord Casterton admitted with a sigh before relating the entire story to Darcy. "I am also to blame for allowing the deception to continue, for lying to Colonel Forster," he added guiltily, not noticing Darcy's preoccupation because of his own.

For his part Darcy could not believe that Elizabeth had done something so reckless with so little regard for her own safety. He was impressed by her cunning almost in spite of himself but he could not fathom her actions; she had singlehandedly taken Wickham on because...? Because he had lied to her? Because he was a danger to others? Because of what he done to Georgie? What he had done to him?

Darcy's mind quickly dismissed this last possibility as nothing but wishful thinking; it was the height of foolishness and vanity to believe that Elizabeth had acted on his behalf. No, it was much more likely that she had simply felt wronged by Wickham and that her sympathetic heart had been touched by his sister's suffering. He still could not help but feel responsible though, for all that had happened.

Busy as he was heaping recrimination upon recrimination, Darcy could not help but be struck by the thought that Lord Casterton had not appeared surprised by anything he had related, realising that Elizabeth must have shared the contents of his letter with him. Knowing that he should not have been surprised by Elizabeth confiding in her father given how close they were, Darcy still could not help feeling suddenly uncomfortable in Lord Casterton's presence. Once again he was overcome by the feeling of unworthiness when he thought of the trust his lordship had placed in him and the respect for him he believed he detected from the elder man.

"My lord," he quietly said having finally summoned the courage to speak. "I owe you an apology."

"I've already told you Darcy," Lord Casterton replied with a hint of exasperation, "none of this is your fault..."

"I don't mean about this morning," Darcy corrected him, swallowing thickly, his throat suddenly dry. "I owe you an apology for my behaviour during my last stay in Hertfordshire. I was an arrogant, conceited fool...my actions were disrespectful, to say the least, and my words to you that morning on the hill, the height of hubris. You were nothing but welcoming and kind to me, and continue to be so, little that I deserve such consideration; please know that I sincerely regret my behaviour to both you and your daughter and will understand if you have no further desire to associate with me."

The significance of Darcy's final words was not lost on neither man, nor the irony of such a statement. Lord Casterton appreciated the truth of it nonetheless and was as much impressed by Darcy's sincerity as he was by the changes apparent in the younger man; Elizabeth's words had clearly hit their marks. Realising that Darcy had the look of a man awaiting a death sentence he quickly smiled and replied,

"I accept your apology Mr Darcy; and furthermore, I forgive you for being, as you say, a fool. You are not the first man I have met who has put his status and reputation first, and I doubt you will be the last. You are, however, one of very few men to admit that they regretted the decision and I thank you for it. I will take it as a compliment to myself and my daughter that we have been able to overcome your...misgivings."

"My lord, I..." Darcy couldn't think what to say and in the end simply stated, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Lord Casterton replied; he held out his hand with a smile, "Friends?"

"Friends," Darcy agreed with a nod and a smile, feeling a hundred feet tall.

He knew deep down that he did not deserve to be forgiven so easily but he would happily take the chance given to him all the same. He had time now to earn his lordship's friendship and respect, and he was determined to do it. His happiness was somewhat diminished by the thought that Miss Casterton's forgiveness would undoubtedly by harder to earn, if it were at all possible, but he squared his shoulders as he promised himself that he would do all that he could to win her respect; his heart could not help but wish for more though and he could not rid of himself of the desire to make her love him as he loved her.

Lord Casterton and his daughter departed Netherfield soon after his conversation with Darcy; Elizabeth was uncomfortable and restless and her father wished to have her safe at home as soon as possible. Miss Darcy happily leant Elizabeth one of her gowns for the journey, as well as a shawl to cover the bruises on her arm. Mr Bingley had the presence of mind to order all of the servants (bar the butler and housekeeper) out of the hallways and foyer; Elizabeth was extremely thankful to him for such consideration, not wishing to be the subject of the inevitable stares and whisperings of those she would have had to pass.

Hidden away upstairs in one of the guest chambers, Elizabeth had not had much time or reason to think of Mr Darcy; being confronted with his presence once more was therefore somewhat trying to her fragile self control. Her gratitude for his assistance was perhaps the most prevalent emotion but now that the worst of her ordeal was over, she suddenly remembered to be awkward in his company. She kept her horribly bruised face averted and could hardly bear to look upon him, a fact noticed by the gentleman himself as well as his sister and Elizabeth's father; all were aware of all that had passed between Darcy and the lady in the past, however, and so could somewhat understand her feelings in this instance.

Darcy's feelings as he bid goodbye to Elizabeth were perhaps as easily understandable as her own; if his intense look had not given him away, his gentle, soothing tone of voice as he spoke to her certainly would have. Even Georgiana was surprised, having never heard him address anyone in a tone of such tenderness before, and she looked between her brother and Elizabeth with a secret smile.

Sensing that he was making her uncomfortable with his attention, Darcy turned to Elizabeth's father instead, attempting to ignore the stab of disappointment he felt at her reaction. Slowly, man, he cautioned himself, one step at a time.

"Good day, my lord."

"Good day Darcy; I suspect I will see you soon," Lord Casterton replied with a significant look as he shook the younger man's hand. "Thank you again for everything."

"You're welcome," Darcy quietly replied. "And thank you," he added with a slight smile that Lord Casterton returned.

His sister stepped forward to say goodbye to his lordship then, little attention that Darcy was paying to what was being said; he was too busy looking at the top of Elizabeth's bent head, lamenting the fact that he had never seen her as subdued as she was now. Any sadness he had felt over Wickham's fate was cast aside as he witnessed firsthand the damage his actions had wrought and he inhaled a sharp breath, surprised by the rush of anger that swept through him. He clenched and unclenched the fist with which he had struck Wickham (which remained hidden behind his back), telling himself that it was over and done with.

Surprised from his thoughts by the movement of the rest of the group towards the door, Darcy followed at a step behind them, watching as Lord Casterton handed his daughter into the carriage. He and Lord Casterton exchanged silent nods of understanding but it was the look that Elizabeth sent him that truly captured his attention; her eyes remained as beautiful to him as always and he was captivated anew as she looked at him and silently mouthed what Darcy swore was "thank you."

Before he could react the carriage had pulled away, leaving Darcy standing there looking like a fool as both Georgiana and Bingley attempted to get his attention. Was there hope for him after all?

Chapter 9

Posted on October 8, 2009

The following morning as Darcy was pulling on his coat he heard a knock at his door; Dickson went to open it as Darcy checked his appearance in the mirror one last time before turning to his unexpected visitor.

"Good morning Georgie," he greeted with a smile; Dickson excused himself so that the two siblings could speak in private. "You're up very early."

"I couldn't sleep," Georgiana admitted. She walked over to the end of her brother's bed and perched herself upon it. "I couldn't stop thinking about what happened to Elizabeth."

The entire household had been subdued after the Casterton's departure and, after a very quiet and contemplative dinner, all three had retired early in a bid to put the day behind them. It was easier said than done, however.

"Elizabeth now, is it?" Darcy replied with a small smile of pleasure at the thought of a friendship between the two ladies as he went to sit beside his sister.

"Yes," Georgiana replied shyly; "She is lovely, isn't she brother?"

"Yes, she is," Darcy agreed with a sigh. It was as close as he had ever come to admitting the extent of his feelings for Elizabeth and earned him a smile of understanding from his sister.

"Do you think I will be able to visit her, or do you think she will want to be alone?" Georgie asked after a moment, chewing her bottom lip thoughtfully.

"I think you would know better than I," Darcy pointed out astutely and after a moment's hesitation his sister replied,

"I think she will wish to be alone, but that it would not be good for her to hide herself away."

"I think you are right," Darcy agreed before carefully adding, "though we mustn't expect too much from her too soon."

Georgiana nodded and then asked, "Are you going to see Mr Wickham again?"

"Yes," Darcy affirmed. He looked down at his now bandaged hand and quietly said, "I am sorry I couldn't keep my word to you."

"It is alright," Georgie assured him. "I am sure you were given ample reason to break it."

"Georgiana," Darcy began hesitantly after a long silence. "I must tell you that it is very likely that Wickham will be shot; he has prior strikes against him, and coupled with the actions of yesterday...his fate is most probably already decided."

"Thank you for telling me, William," Georgiana whispered; she laid her head against her brother's shoulder and allowed him to put his arm around her. "I don't quite know what to say," she admitted after a moment, sounding very confused.

"I am sorry it has had to come to this," Darcy replied and felt his sister nod. "He was our friend once and I think I will always remember that; I cannot forgive him though for what he has done since that time, nor can I make myself feel any sadness for his fate. At least not now," he admitted honestly, "when I first heard I admit I also felt quite conflicted."

"I do not regret him." Georgiana thought it important to make this clear. "Indeed I could not, knowing what he really is. I suppose I regret what I thought he was," she concluded finally, struggling to make sense of it all. "Is that foolish of me?" She asked uncertainly, looking to her brother for guidance.

"I think I am going to sound foolish saying this, given what I have said in the past," Darcy replied with a slight smile, "but I think your feelings are demonstrative of your youth. I know you are growing up," he added so as not to ruffle her feathers, "very quickly I might add, but the fact remains that you are still only sixteen, and have many years ahead of you to learn the ways of the heart."

Georgiana nodded and they lapsed once more into silence until Darcy glanced at the clock and reluctantly admitted, "I have to go; Lord Casterton will be awaiting me."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to keep you," Georgiana exclaimed, jumping up. Her brother caught hold of her hand and tugged her to sit back down again.

"You are free to keep me whenever you have need of me, Georgie," Darcy assured her seriously, albeit with a smile. "I can think of little in my life more important to me than you poppet."

"Thank you," Georgiana replied, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Come," Darcy eventually intoned briskly, standing and holding his hand out to her. "I will escort you to breakfast and then be on my way."

"Michael, must you go? Surely this can wait, or Mr Darcy can go in your stead," Emily Burrows suggested reasonably with a worried air as she regarded her friend as he stood at the window of his study, awaiting the arrival of Mr Darcy.

"No Emily," Lord Casterton replied resolutely. "It must be done, and as soon as possible. I will not have this hanging over us for any longer than necessary. No, Wickham must be dealt with and it must be today."

"But you look so tired," Emily argued, coming to stand beside him. She lay a hand on his arm as she quietly asked, "Did you sleep at all last night?"

"I slept enough," Lord Casterton replied tersely, forgetting that his friend was not going to be put off so easily.

"That is not an answer," Emily replied stubbornly. "You must be mindful of your health," she cautioning him softly, surprised by his reaction.

"And what of my daughter's health?" He demanded angrily, finally turning his pained countenance to face her. "What of Elizabeth? Good God, Emily, have you seen her? Her face! My darling Lizzy; how could this have happened to my poor child?"

His anguish was awful to see and Emily did what she could to comfort him, grasping his hand tightly in her own as the other reached up to rest against his cheek.

"All will be well, Michael. She will be well, in time. You know your daughter better than anyone; you know how strong she is."

"This is not something she has ever had to face before," Michael pointed out. "I fear that it will leave her traumatised."

"It may well do so," Emily replied honestly before adding, "but she will overcome this. Trust me Michael; I will help you and together we will soon have her back to her old self again."

Lord Casterton sighed and closed his eyes, nodding slowly. He prayed that Emily was right and was immensely grateful for her support. He opened his eyes to find her watching him carefully, her face sympathetic. He reached up and took hold of the hand that had rested against his cheek, gently stroking his thumb across the back of it, entirely unconscious of the gesture.

"Thank you Emily. I struggle to think what I would do without you."

"Fall to pieces, no doubt," Emily quipped, pleased when Michael chuckled and returned her smile.

They stood for a moment contemplating each other before both were caught by the sight of Mr Darcy riding up the drive. They stood watching the young gentleman guide his mount to a gentle stop before dismounting gracefully, each occupied by their thoughts of what Mr Darcy's reappearance meant for the young lady dearest to both of their hearts.

"He is a good man," Michael eventually commented, surprising Emily with the suddenness of his seemingly incongruous statement. "He was a great help to me yesterday and I am thankful for his support. He has made some mistakes in the past, I know, but I find that I cannot hold them against him; especially not now, not after such a sincere apology as the one he made to me yesterday."

"I believe he wishes to win your approval," Emily replied in an undertone, hearing voices in the hallway outside and knowing that they would not be alone for much longer.

"And I believe that it is not but I find that I cannot hold them against him; especially not now, not after such a sincere apology as the one he made to me yesterday."

"I believe he wishes to win your approval," Emily replied in an undertone, hearing voices in the hallway outside and knowing that they would not be alone for much longer.

"And I believe that it is not my approval that he wants," Lord Casterton noted before moving to stand at a more proper distance from Emily. "At least not solely."

They shared a knowing smile before smoothing their faces into welcoming expressions as Mr Darcy was announced and entered the room. Emily watched the younger man bow to her before to shake Michael's hand and silently thought to herself, yes, he is a good man; though I wonder whether you could ever think a man good enough for your Lizzy, Michael.

"I am sorry for making you wait, my lord," Darcy said, "my sister needed to speak with me."

"It is quite alright Darcy," Lord Casterton assured him; he looked over to Emily and said, "Well, we should get going. You will tell Elizabeth where I have gone if she awakes?"

"Of course," Emily assured him before adding in a stern tone. "Don't do anything rash."

"Do not worry, I will leave that to my young friend here," Lord Casterton quipped in response, looking pointedly at Darcy and the bandaged hand which the younger man hastily hid behind his back. Chuckling, Lord Casterton clapped Darcy on the shoulder and said, "Come, we should go. See you later Emily."

Smiling at Michael's casual manner, Emily curtseyed to Mr Darcy who bid her a proper good day, bow and all. She was not entirely surprised when he hesitated a brief moment before tentatively asking her,

"Mrs Burrows, could you...would you be so good as to give my regards to Miss Casterton when she wakes? I hope she does better today."

"I will," Emily assured him kindly, pleased with his attention to Elizabeth.

"Thank you," Darcy replied before turning and following Lord Casterton from the room.

Once outside the house he mounted and waited patiently for Lord Casterton to do the same, watching in silence as the elder gentleman was helped up by two grooms. Lord Casterton caught him looking and smiled ruefully,

"Another of Dr Jones' edicts," he explained. "I do not recommend failing ill when under his care. He and Lizzy have been quite tyrannical in their demands," he joked as he pulled his mount round and they set off together down the drive.

"I am sure it is all well meant," Darcy replied with a smile as Lord Casterton chuckled.

"Oh! It is very well meant; doesn't mean that I have to like it though."

Shaking his head and smiling to himself Darcy decided not to reply.

"How is your sister, and Mr Bingley?" Lord Casterton asked after a moment.

"They are both well," Darcy replied before admitting, "though my sister did admit to some sleeplessness last night."

"Yes," Lord Casterton sighed, "I fear that is going to be a common problem for some time to come."

"Your daughter did not have a good night," Darcy surmised quietly.

"She did not." Lord Casterton replied soberly and then left it at that.

It was a fine morning, crisp and cool, and promised to be a fine day; a pity that a pall would be cast over it by the task ahead of them. The two men road in silence for a long time, each occupied with their own thoughts until Lord Casterton turned to address his companion.

"Darcy?"

"Yes my lord?" Darcy replied, surprised by the sudden address. He had been contemplating the surrounding countryside, wondering if it would ever hold the same enjoyment for Elizabeth as it once had. Whether she would ever feel completely safe here again.

"Did Colonel Forster explicitly say that Wickham is to be shot? Is that any chance of a different outcome?"

"I am not certain," Darcy replied slowly, trying to remember the conversation they had had. "He was undeniably angry with Wickham and I believe wished to make an example of him; that notwithstanding, I am sure your wishes in this matter will no doubt carry a good deal of weight with him. What do you have in mind?" He asked, curious.

"If possible, I want him deported," Lord Casterton admitted. "Personally, I would be happy to see him dead," he explained grimly, "but Elizabeth...she is greatly troubled by the thought of having his death on her conscience."

"But it is not her fault!" Darcy protested. "Wickham has no-one to blame but himself! Your daughter is not responsible for him."

The irony of Darcy proclaiming such a thing barely a day after he had attempted to assume responsibility for Wickham's actions was not lost on Lord Casterton, and he stored the knowledge of Darcy's defence of Elizabeth away for future use.

"I know, and I did attempt to make her see it that way, but Lizzy is tender hearted and does not want to be responsible, however indirectly, for a man's death. I will respect her wishes in this matter, if only to bring her some measure of peace."

They were just reaching the outskirts of Meryton as Darcy thoughtfully replied, "Whether he is shot or deported, the result I suppose will be the same; no longer will he plague any of our lives."

"That is the hope," Lord Casterton muttered to himself, mentally squaring his shoulders at the thought of being in close proximity with the man who had dared to touch his daughter.

As the rode towards Colonel Forster's dwelling they began to attract considerable attention from the townspeople. Though steps had been taken to keep the story of the day before under wraps, Meryton was a small town and news travelled fast. The people knew that something had happened to Miss Casterton and that an officer had been involved, but beyond that they were still in the dark. Some were of course simply out for any scrap of gossip they could get, but many who watched Lord Casterton ride through the town were genuinely concerned for the welfare of the lady; Mr Chapman, the butcher was the first brave enough to approach his lordship as he passed his shop.

"My lord, forgive my boldness, but how does Miss Casterton fare?"

"She is well, Mr Chapman, thank you for your concern," Lord Casterton replied, sending the man a reassuring smile once it became apparent that his concern was indeed sincere.

"Is there anything my wife and I may do for you?" Mr Chapman asked and Lord Casterton smiled as he replied,

"That is very kind of you sir; I cannot think of anything at present, but if I think of anything be sure I will remember your kindness."

"I am at your service, my lord," Mr Chapman replied with a slight bow and a nod to Darcy who had watched the entire exchange with interest.

The two of them moved on, occasional stopping to speak to other concerned parties and Darcy was silent as he examined his lordship's and the people's respective behaviour. As master of Pemberley he was used to the condescension of his tenants and of the local trades people but he could not in all honesty say that any of his interactions with them approached the level of affability and respect that Lord Casterton seemed to share with the people of Meryton. Their concern for Elizabeth was apparent and sincere and Lord Casterton welcomed their kindness with ease and friendliness.

Feeling as though he were learning an important lesson here today, Darcy took pains to watch and listen with particular attention. He was reminded of the times he had accompanied his father as a younger man and memories long forgotten sudden rose unbidden to the front of his mind; this was a lesson his father had attempted to teach him but, like so many of his lessons, it had been cut short by his untimely death, before it could truly be learnt and taken to heart.

"Darcy?"

Darcy snapped out of his reverie and found Lord Casterton looking at him expectantly. "Forgive me, I was not paying attention."

"What were you thinking about?" Lord Casterton asked, curious as to the source of the sadness suddenly emanating from the other man.

"My father," Darcy replied quietly. "The way you are with these people...I was reminded of him, and something he tried to teach me once."

Suddenly feeling uncomfortable at having revealed so much, Darcy cleared his throat and looked away, relieved when Lord Casterton did not pursue the subject and suggested they continue on to Colonel Forster's accommodations.

"Oh, Emily," Elizabeth sighed, staring unhappily at her reflection in the mirror as she attempted to tease, "I do not believe there is anything for it; I shall simply have to resign myself to hideousness for the foreseeable future."

"Lizzy," Emily chided, smiling at the unhappy girl in the mirror as she arranged her hair about her shoulders. "It is not so bad. Indeed with your hair down like this you can hardly see it at all."

Elizabeth's brows rose in sceptical contradiction as she turned her face slightly, as if to say, "Oh really?!"

"I am a vain, silly creature," she replied eventually as she stood up and moved away from her vanity table. "Just ignore me."

"I think your concern is not solely for yourself, Elizabeth," Emily pointed out knowingly and Elizabeth sighed as she admitted,

"You are right; I cannot help but think that papa will be upset to see me like this. I am upset to see me like this."

"Would you like to talk about..." Emily offered but Elizabeth cut her off with a sharp, "No!"

Realising she had spoken harshly, Elizabeth sighed again and said in a softer tone, "Forgive me, but I do not wish to speak of it."

"Very well," Emily agreed, "I will not press you."

"Thank you," Elizabeth gratefully replied. She moved to look out the window of her chamber, admiring the beautiful clear day and the way the sun danced upon the pond below. She felt Emily come to stand beside her, blushing suddenly when her friend quietly told her,

"Mr Darcy asked that I give you his regards. He hopes that you are feeling better today."

"He and his sister were very good to me," Elizabeth replied after a quiet moment. "I hope to see them again soon."

"What is Miss Darcy like?" Emily asked, sensing that this was a neutral topic they could speak about. She was concerned by the dark circles under Elizabeth's eyes, eyes which had a haunted, troubled aspect to them.

"She seems a lovely girl," Elizabeth replied. "Much like her brother in many respects, quiet and reserved and very shy. She was more talkative once she became comfortable with me; again, much like her brother in that regard."

"Do they look alike?" Emily asked although inwardly she was intrigued by Elizabeth describing Mr Darcy as shy and reserved, knowing as she did that in the past Elizabeth had taken such behaviour from the gentleman as evidence of his arrogance and disdain.

"Georgiana is fair where her brother is dark, but they are both tall and have the same striking blue eyes."

"So Mr Darcy's eyes are striking?" Emily couldn't help but tease although she regretted it a moment later when Elizabeth closed her eyes, as though pained, and whispered,

"Please do not tease me Emily. After everything, I cannot...it is still too soon for me to be able to think of it, of him without..." she shook her head and opened her eyes to look upon her friend. "See, I cannot even find the words."

"I am sorry Lizzy, I did not mean to upset you. It was unfeeling of me." Emily apologised sincerely, wishing she had kept her thoughts to herself.

Elizabeth assured her it was alright, that no harm was done, and the two friends lapsed into silence as they stood admiring the view together. Elizabeth was not built for melancholy however and could never hold anything against Emily; she smiled to herself before finally allowing herself to admit,

"I think Mr Darcy has beautiful eyes."

The look on Emily's face was priceless, and Elizabeth laughed for what felt like the first time in days.

The feeling of relief that swept over Lord Casterton as he finally exited the barracks was almost indescribable, but the physical effects were visible in his upright posture and lighter countenance. Darcy, who was also experiencing something similar himself nevertheless smiled at the elder man's reaction.

"Let us be on our way," Lord Casterton suggested as their horses were brought to them. "I want nothing more than to wash my hands of this whole business, and I can think of no better way to do so than a brisk ride across the countryside. Will you join me?"

"With your assurance that you are up to such an endeavour, gladly," Darcy replied boldly before adding in a more respectful, if teasing, manner, "I would not wish to incur Dr Jones and Miss Casterton's wrath."

"I am well enough for a quick ride," Lord Casterton assured him, not taking any offense. "Shall we?"

"By all means," Darcy replied, thinking to give him a head start. He was surprised when Lord Casterton laughed and kicked his mount into a gallop, leaving him to fend for himself.

They rode towards Willoughby, over Lord Casterton's lands and Darcy, who had not seen much of the estate before now was suitably impressed with its beauty and upkeep. Despite his recent troubles, it was obvious that Lord Casterton took his duties seriously.

"How long has Willoughby been in your family?" He asked when they had slowed to allow their mounts a chance to rest.

"Oh, several generations," Lord Casterton replied, a little out of breath but feeling invigorated after their ride. "The title originates from the 17th century but the estate is much smaller now than it was then. The original Manor was also destroyed in a fire so very little now remains of the original Willoughby estate, beyond the Barony itself. I have been very lax, I am afraid," he admitted with a smile, "when it comes to tracing my family's history. I am very fond of Willoughby, though, and regret that it will not stay with my family when I am gone."

"But what of your brother?" Darcy queried, confused.

"It has been many years now since I have regarded him as a member of my family," Lord Casterton replied honestly, looking out over his lands. "Elizabeth is my only family, as far as I am concerned. Tis a pity that the law does not see it that way," he lamented absently before shooting Darcy an apologetic smile. "Forgive me, you do not need to hear this."

"It is alright," Darcy assured him. He could not quell his curiosity, even though he felt that it was not his place, and couldn't help asking, "What will happen to your daughter...if the worst were to happen?"

"If she remained unmarried at the time of my death and was not yet of age, she would be placed under the guardianship of Mr Bennet, and control of her assets would go to my friend Felmore until she became of age," Lord Casterton replied as they slowly headed back to the house. "If she were to be already of age when I died, everything would then go to her, apart from the estate and title, naturally, and this would be the same if she were already married. And if she were married and had had a son, then everything, apart from her inheritance, would go to him."

"Everything?" Darcy repeated, "Even the title?"

"Yes," Lord Casterton replied with a smile. "My ancestors chose to institute such an entail, and I cannot say that I am unhappy about it. Though Robert of course is of a different opinion," he added with ill-concealed glee.

"So your grandson will be the next Baron Courtney," Darcy surmised quietly, surprised by this unexpected turn of events.

"That is the hope," Lord Casterton replied; he noted Darcy's surprise and smiled as he admitted, "The details of the entail are not common knowledge outside of the family. Elizabeth's considerable fortune would have made her enough of a target without the added incentive of a possible barony thrown into the mixture."

"Yes," Darcy agreed absently; he shook his head slightly and forced himself to respond to what else Lord Casterton had said, "You were right, undoubtedly, to protect your daughter in such a way."

"Spoken like a man who has his own young lady to worry about," Lord Casterton replied with a knowing but kind look.

"Your daughter spoke to you of my sister," Darcy guessed, surprised to find himself wishing it were true. Besides his cousin, Darcy had had no one to talk to about the Ramsgate incident.

"She did," Lord Casterton averred. "You may rely on my discretion, I assure you."

"I did not doubt it," Darcy replied.

"How is she coping with what happened? I confess she seemed like a sweet girl to me when I met her yesterday, albeit a little shy."

"She has not been the same since it happened," Darcy admitted quietly, "although she has seemed better these past weeks. I was very glad to introduce her to your daughter, though naturally I wish it had been under better circumstances."

"Elizabeth did seem to like her, very much," Lord Casterton supplied, waiting for Darcy to explain his eagerness for the two ladies to become acquainted.

"I am pleased to hear that," Darcy replied with a smile. "I cannot help but think that your daughter would be a positive influence on Georgiana; she has had very few friends her own age, and your daughter's liveliness will no doubt be a welcome change to the monotony of my company," he joked lightly as Lord Casterton chuckled.

"Yes, I can see it now," he replied, still chuckling to himself. "The two of us, holed up in the library like ogres with our brandy and books, whilst Lizzy and your sister frolic and dance in the garden like the spring lambs they are. An accurate portrait, would you say?"

"Of some of us, at least," Darcy replied, purposely avoiding who he believed was accurately portrayed and smiling when Lord Casterton laughed at his cheek.

"You, young man, are a good deal livelier than you give yourself credit!" The elder man asserted with a glint in his eye. "Perhaps some time spent with Lizzy will make you realise it," he suggested knowingly, with an arched brow.

"I would like that," Darcy replied honestly, holding his breath as he awaited Lord Casterton's response.

"I rather thought you would," Lord Casterton quipped dryly, studying his companion for a long moment before offering, "And I can think of no better time to start than the present; will you join us for lunch?"

"Gladly," Darcy replied and urged his mount to follow Lord Casterton back to the house.

Chapter 10

Posted on October 18, 2009

"Thank you Hall," Lord Casterton said to his butler as the loyal old retainer divested him of his hat and gloves. "Are you aware of the whereabouts of Mrs Burrows and my daughter?"

"I'm here, father," Elizabeth softly replied as she appeared in the front hall.

She was dressed in one of her muslin day-dresses which, unusually, given the warmth of the day, but understandably, given what had occurred the day before, had long sleeves down to her wrists. Her hair she had left down, free to flow about her shoulders and tucked to one side of her face, going some small way towards hiding the bruising left there.

Darcy, who had long imagined what she would look like with her hair down, who had indeed spent many nights dreaming of unpinning the dark mass of mahogany tresses and running his fingers unhindered through its silky lengths, stood speechless, completely undone by the vision before him. Finally he remembered to breathe and did so not a moment too soon as Miss Casterton, having greeted her father, turned to him and said,

"Good afternoon, Mr Darcy."

If Darcy had thought himself affected by her mere appearance moments before, it was nothing compared to what he now felt in the face of her shy smile and shining eyes. As if that had not been enough to completely upset his equilibrium, his eager, devoted study of her upturned face could not help but detect the faint blush that graced her smooth cheeks as she returned his gaze; Lord, how was he ever going to survive this meal without betraying himself as the besotted fool he truly was?!

The sound of her father clearing his throat snapped Darcy back to reality and he hastily bowed and replied, "Good afternoon, Miss Casterton."

"Where is Emily, my dear?" Lord Casterton asked, taking pity on the embarrassed young man beside him.

"She is in the front parlour; given how beautiful a day it is we decided it would be nice to have lunch on the terrace. I was just making the arrangements."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea," her father complimented. Elizabeth smiled before summoning her courage and looking up at Mr Darcy to ask,

"Will you be joining us?"

"I should like that very much, thank you," Darcy replied, pleased when Elizabeth favoured him with yet another shy smile. Surely this was a good sign?

"Why don't the two of you go on ahead; I will fetch Emily and we will join you shortly," Lord Casterton suggested. He ignored the look Elizabeth shot at him and merrily went on his way.

The moment so easily could have descended into awkwardness, but with a tentative smile from Darcy and a blushing rejoinder from Elizabeth, the two came to a friendly, if silent, accord and the ice was finally broken. There was so much they needed to say to one another but for now, on this day, they were happy to just take the first tentative steps together towards a better understanding.

"Shall we?" Darcy asked, offering his arm to her.

"Thank you," Elizabeth replied, looping her arm through his. She winced slightly, having forgotten about the bruises and loosened her hold on him. She was not surprised when he asked if her injuries still pained her, knowing as she did how observant and solicitous he could be.

"Only when I am careless," she replied lightly, "and when I look in the mirror." He looked confused and so she explained, "Have you never noticed how an injury only becomes painful once you are aware of the injury itself?"

"Now that you mention it, yes. When I was a boy I would often come home with the usual bumps and scrapes, totally unconcerned by my pitiful state until one of my parents, usually my mother, pointed out my many injuries to me."

"And then what would you do?" Elizabeth asked, charmed by the image of him as a child, running free around his estate.

"Then? Then I would require my mother to comfort me as only mother's can, usually for quite a prolonged period of time, shameful as it is to admit to such a thing," he confessed with a dimpled smile that had Elizabeth blushing all over again. "And afterwards of course my father would attempt, yet again, to convince me of the folly of climbing trees and getting myself into every other type of mischief conceivable to a boy of such tender years, knowing undoubtedly that I would pay him no heed and would soon be knocking myself about with my usual careless abandon."

"It sounds as though you were quite a handful," Elizabeth teased as Darcy chuckled to himself.

"Perhaps I was. But I was an only child for many years; I needed to find ways to entertain myself."

"Do not worry, you don't have to defend yourself to me," Elizabeth assured him with an impertinent smile. "I was undoubtedly just as bad; worse in fact, for I am a lady and ladies do not climb trees, or catch frogs, or chase after boys."

"But this lady did," Darcy replied with a warm, admiring gaze.

"But this lady did," Elizabeth affirmed, returning his smile.

They continued on in comfortable silence until they reached the terrace, deciding by silent communication to stand and admire the view before taking their seats at the wrought iron table. Darcy was the first to speak as he observed,

"I am beginning to see why you favour this country so much. During our ride today your father showed me much that I had not seen before; it is truly a beautiful place, in its own way."

"I am glad you think so," Elizabeth replied, happy with his compliment. "Though something tells me you would still prefer your homeland, given the choice."

"Yes, I believe you are correct. I am still biased in its favour, I will admit, though I believe I am now more open to other opinions than I was in the past."

"Would you say, then, that you are now more willing to yield to the persuasion of a friend?" Elizabeth questioned with an arched brow, wondering if he would pick up on the reference.

"That would depend, Miss Casterton," Darcy replied, concealing his smile, "on the degree of importance which is to appertain to the request, as well as the degree of intimacy subsisting between the parties."

"You have an uncommonly good memory, sir," Elizabeth complimented with a light laugh.

"As do you," Darcy pointed out; he was thoughtful for a moment before adding. "I would now add, however, another qualification."

"And what would that be?"

"That the friend making the request has the right to make it in the first place," Darcy stated solemnly. "Yielding to the unfair, misguided, officious request of a friend could in itself be called a mistake, I grant you, but the greater share of the blame must undoubtedly go to the friend who makes such a request to begin with. It is an abuse of the friendship in the name of which he is making the request."

"But what if the request was made with the best intentions," Elizabeth questioned, her head tilted to one side as she regarded the grave man beside her. "Albeit somewhat misguided? And what of the friend who yielded; is he not a grown man, responsible for himself and his own decisions?"

"He certainly is now," Darcy replied unthinkingly, stiffening and shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other when Miss Casterton regarded him with an expression which clearly asked, nay demanded him to explain. "I believe you will find Bingley a little different from how you remember him."

"Mr Darcy, I..." Elizabeth wasn't entirely sure what she had meant to say but, hearing the approach of her father and her friend she lowered her voice and said instead, "We have much to discuss, you and I, but I do not believe now is the best time for us to do so."

"No, perhaps not," Darcy agreed with a tiny smile. Lord Casterton and Mrs Burrows then stepped onto the terrace, effectively ending their conversation.

"Come on you young people, let us sit down; I am in need of a good meal!"

Elizabeth allowed Mr Darcy to lead her to her seat, smiling up at him when he pulled out her chair for her and waited for her to get comfortable before settling himself into his own. Elizabeth waited for the food to be served and the servants to depart before asking,

"What happened this morning father?"

"Well," Lord Casterton replied after a brief glance at Darcy. "We spoke first to Colonel Forster, who then took us to see Mr Wickham. There was a good deal of shouting and enough cursing to make even the hardened soldiers blush..."

"Who was shouting and cursing?" Emily asked, somewhat alarmed.

"I was cursing and Darcy was shouting," Lord Casterton replied, completely unrepentant.

Darcy, who had at first wondered what on earth he was about, admitting to such details, smiled inwardly to himself and admitted to the wisdom of Lord Casterton's plan when he saw Elizabeth attempting to restrain a laugh. Evidently, he knew his daughter well.

"Anyway," Lord Casterton continued briskly. "When we finally calmed ourselves down, enough at least to speak like rational fellows, Colonel Forster agreed not to shoot the blackguard; he is to be deported, forthwith, and good riddance to him!"

"Thank you father," Elizabeth replied, overcoming her amusement, grateful to her father for making what could have been a difficult discussion a little easier. "I know it was not what you wanted."

"You misrepresent me to our guest, my dear," Lord Casterton pretended to scold her. "Indeed, you make me sound quite bloodthirsty!"

"And you accuse me of irreverence," Elizabeth retorted playfully, sharing a look with Emily as her father laughed and Mr Darcy attempted not to.

They enjoyed a slow, leisurely lunch together, discussing everything and nothing; everything of course bar the events of the day before, and nothing to do with Wickham or his now decided fate. The only awkward moment came when Elizabeth, finally noticing Darcy's bandaged hand, exclaimed,

"Mr Darcy, how on earth did you do that?"

"I...er...I," Darcy mumbled, trying to think of a polite way to admit that he had thumped Wickham, repeatedly. "Mr Wickham and I had a slight disagreement when I spoke with him yesterday," he admitted finally in a stiff and haughty manner that a few months ago would have been quite normal for him.

"Poor Mr Wickham," Elizabeth observed quietly after a long moment of silence as her three companions awaited her reaction. "First my knee, and then your fist. Yesterday was not a good day for him."

"No, I don't suppose it was," Darcy replied solemnly. He caught the sparkle of amusement in Elizabeth's eye, however, and permitted himself a slight smile.

The meal ended soon afterwards and Darcy, though he was reluctant to depart knew that he had left his sister and Bingley alone for too long. Thanking Lord Casterton and his daughter for their hospitality he stated his intention to return to Netherfield, pleased when Elizabeth offered to see him to the door.

"I hope we see you and your sister again soon Darcy," Lord Casterton told him before wishing him a good day. "You are both welcome here."

Darcy assured him that he would bring his sister to visit soon and, after bowing to his lordship and Mrs Burrows, finally followed Elizabeth back inside. The coolness of the house was in stark contrast to the warmth of the day outside and Darcy noticed how they both tempered their usually brisk pace as they walked through the house to the front hall.

"Do you think Mr Bingley intends to call upon the Bennet's soon?" Elizabeth surprised Darcy by asking. Realising how easily her question could be misconstrued she hastened to explain. "It is just that I have not yet had a chance to tell Jane about...I would not want her to hear about it from anyone else; it would cause her needless distress."

"I will tell my friend that you wish to speak to her of it yourself," Darcy assured her, realising as Elizabeth broke out into a smile that he had just confirmed Bingley's intention to renew his attentions towards Miss Bennet.

"Jane will be delighted to see him," Elizabeth quietly replied; she raised her smiling eyes to his and Darcy was relieved to find no trace of anger or resentment there. He was happy to have done the right thing.

"And he her, I know. He is quite determined."

"I believe he will have to be," Elizabeth replied thoughtfully. She decided to be completely honest as she added, "Mrs Bennet will no doubt welcome him back with open arms, but he will have to work a little harder to earn Jane's forgiveness."

"It will be possible though, won't it?" Darcy asked a little desperately, terrified by the thought that it had all been too little, too late.

"Yes, I believe so," Elizabeth assured him calmly before smiling cheekily and adding, "though if I were her I would make him suffer for abandoning me in the first place. I am not Jane, however, and she is not me."

"No," Darcy agreed, silently adding, thankfully.

They stood in the silence of the front hall studying one another until Elizabeth laughed lightly and shook her head.

"I do not know why I find it so easy to speak to you of such things, especially when I know that I should not," she added with another shake of her head. "I think you bring out the worst in me," she mused, albeit with a playful smile.

"That is a pity," Darcy replied quietly, catching Elizabeth by surprise. "I have always felt that you bring out the best in me."

"Oh," Elizabeth breathed, quite involuntarily. She subsequently blushed and lowered her eyes to the ground and Darcy, realising that he had once again said too much, quickly bid her good day.

"Mr Darcy!" Elizabeth called after him, adding when he stopped silhouetted in the open doorway. "I look forward to our next meeting."

"As do I," Darcy replied without turning before hurrying on his way.

Elizabeth stood alone in the cool hall, staring at the open door as she attempted to make sense of her jumbled emotions. Her anger at his behaviour had long ago faded with the knowledge of her own failings and her many misunderstandings, but that did not explain the feeling of warmth which spread from within her breast right to the tips of her toes whenever he smiled at her, or looked at her with his eyes warm and caressing. Neither did it explain her happiness when he was near, or her sense of sadness when they once again misunderstood one another. He seemed so different to how she remembered him, and yet somehow the same; she supposed that in essentials he was much as he ever was, but her knowing him better had improved her opinion of him.

She knew not what to make of his return to Hertfordshire, however, afraid to let herself entertain the notion that it had been for her for fear of what it would reveal of her own feelings, and what it would mean if she were mistaken. She wished dearly for them to be able to clear the air, to start afresh and hoped that he felt the same way too.

Deciding that she needed to speak with her father and gain his opinion (she also suspected that he knew more about Mr Darcy than he was letting on) Elizabeth slowly made her way back out to the terrace, making a considerable effort to appear as cheerful as she had been not a quarter of an hour before. For some reason, however, without Mr Darcy's presence she found it much harder to keep the troubling recollections of the day before at bay. She wondered what it all meant.

The rest of the week passed and Darcy, much to his disappointment, did not manage to see the Casterton's again. At first he was kept away by an abrupt change in the weather, and then by the necessity of accompanying Bingley as he called upon all his neighbours, acquainting himself with them once more. Darcy did not have to do it, it was by no means a requirement of his stay at Netherfield, and yet he felt as though it was the least he could do, as a sign of support for his friend, and as part of his commitment to change. He had barely bothered with the inhabitants of the area on his last visit, he knew, and the charges Elizabeth had laid at his door with regards to his lack of civility and notice continued to eat away at him. And so with Bingley he did go (somewhat surprising his friend) and whilst he was by no means received with the same cordiality and warmth as his friend, his improved manner was noted by all (with no little surprise) and many began to speculate that Mr Darcy was perhaps worthy of comparison to his friend after all, especially given his large estate in Derbyshire, his utterly charming young sister, and the small fact of his ten thousand a year.

For his part Darcy was pleasantly surprised to find that not all of Bingley's neighbours were as bad as he had originally thought them, though such a realisation necessarily ashamed him for he had had no reason to assume the worst of them in the first place. Such recriminations were not conducive to his efforts however as they invariably set him frowning and made him appear disagreeable, so he did his best to push them aside until he was free to mull over them in solitude. That being said, he had not undergone such a total transformation as to universally approve of all those he met (he doubted that was even possible) and was grateful for the steadying presence of his sister and friend, especially when the subject of Miss Casterton and her recent "ordeal" was broached. Bingley handled the often intrusive questioning with more grace than Darcy felt that he could ever have managed, and in such a way as to give the appearance of imparting a great deal of information whilst actually giving very little away. When Darcy pointed this out to his friend, Bingley just shrugged and said,

"If it were my sister, or your sister, or another young lady of my acquaintance I would do all I could to protect her privacy at such a time."

Both knew who Bingley meant by "another young lady" and it was not long before he and Darcy and Georgiana were paying a call on the Bennet's as well. Darcy could not help steeling himself for an uncomfortable encounter and unfortunately, Mrs Bennet did not disappoint.

"Mr Bingley! You are very, very welcome," the matron exclaimed effusively as they were announced. Bingley bowed to her and attempted to return her greeting,

"How do you do, Mrs Bennet. I..."

"It's far too long since you were here, and very kind of you to call," Mrs Bennet interrupted him before he had gotten very far. "Mr Bennet, of course, would have paid his addresses before this, were it not...Well, here you are! I am delighted!" She seemed only then to realise that Bingley had not come unaccompanied and deigned to say, "And Mr Darcy, you are welcome, too."

"Mrs Bennet," Darcy replied with a stiff bow. He held onto his sister's hand as he introduced her. "May I introduce my sister to you? Georgie, this is Mrs Bennet, Miss Bennet, Miss Catherine Bennet, Miss Mary Bennet and Miss Lydia Bennet. This is my sister, Georgiana."

All bar Lydia and Mrs Bennet greeted Georgiana with all the appearance of pleasure, the former still in a fit of petulance at the news of her favourite's fall from grace and the latter suspicious of her eldest's potential rival for Mr Bingley's attentions. Mrs Bennet was somewhat mollified when Miss Darcy chose to sit beside Kitty at a position far removed from where Mr Bingley had chosen to seat himself.

"We began to be afraid you would never come back," Mrs Bennet began again once they were seated. "People did say you meant to quit the place by Michaelmas, but I hope that is not true." Her tone was ingratiating and she seemed most disappointed when no reply was forthcoming. She looked to her daughter and instructed, "Ring the bell for tea, Kitty."

"A great many changes have taken place since you went away," Mrs Bennet went on to say after a slight pause. Darcy, however, was too much preoccupied to pay much attention; he was surruptiously studying Miss Bennet, wondering how he ever could have missed her obvious shyness before. She in turn kept stealing glances at his friend and Darcy closed his eyes for a brief moment in remorse as this further proof of his folly was presented to him.

"And then of course there was the shocking attack on Miss Casterton, which of course you know all about."

This got Darcy's attention and he looked at Mrs Bennet with increasing anger and disbelief as she continued, "His lordship came to call and told Mr Bennet all about it; they are particular friends you see. But to think that that man was in this house, sat in that very chair! Every day I hear some new bad tale of Mr Wickham! Mr Wickham, that everybody praised to the skies! Mr Wickham, that half the town was mad in love with. All the time a villain! I have heard he's run up debts with every reputable tradesman in the town," she confided to Bingley, little perceiving her eldest daughter's or Miss Darcy's distress, or how little either of her male guests liked this particular topic of conversation. "And tales of gaming debts, of drunken routs, in which more things were broken than heads and furniture! They say that there's hardly a tradesman in the town whose daughters were not meddled with! And now he attempts to meddle with Lord Casterton's daughter! It is all so distressing!"

"Indeed it is, madam," Bingley agreed, glancing at Darcy and feeling somewhat worried by the dark frown his friend sported. "But we can take comfort from the fact that Miss Casterton was relatively unharmed and is now safe from danger."

"Is Lizzy...?" Miss Bennet's quiet voice seemed very loud in the silence following Bingley's statement and she blushed as all eyes turned to her. Gathering her courage she raised her chin and asked, "I had a note from Lizzy telling me she was well but I should like to know if..." she trailed off as tears of concern suddenly filled her eyes.

"Miss Casterton seemed quite well when I last saw her, given the circumstances," Darcy kindly replied, smiling at Miss Bennet's obvious relief. "I believe she wishes for time to heal before receiving visitors," he added quietly, hoping that Mrs Bennet would not hear him.

Jane nodded and managed a tremulous smile; her eyes flicked to Bingley and he smiled reassuringly, wishing he could go to her. He was forced to content himself with her answering smile though as Mrs Bennet asked,

"Do you mean to stay long in the neighbourhood on this visit?"

"Our plans are not yet firmly settled," Bingley replied, glancing at his friend. "But I hope, I hope we shall stay some weeks. I hope very much we shall stay a few weeks," he added, looking directly at Jane. "At the very least."

"Well, when you've killed your own birds, I beg you would come here and shoot as many as you please on Mr Bennet's manor. I'm sure he'll be happy to oblige you!" Mrs Bennet offered, smiling encouragingly.

Darcy's brows rose at such unnecessary, such officious attention and that was before the lady looked at him coldly and added, "I suppose you may bring your friends, if you will."

Conversation eventually moved on and Darcy was relieved to see his sister chatting quite happily with Miss Catherine, not appearing at all perturbed by Mrs Bennet's repeated reference to Wickham. He was also pleased to note how being in the presence of Miss Bennet once more seemed to wholly reanimate his friend. For his part Bingley found Jane as handsome as she had been last year; as good natured, and as unaffected, though perhaps not quite so chatty. Jane herself was anxious that no difference should be perceived in her at all, and was really persuaded that she talked as much as ever. But her mind was so busily engaged, that she did not always know when she was silent.

Eventually it was time for them to leave and the three visitors rose to go away, pausing momentarily when Mrs. Bennet invited them to dine at Longbourn in a few days time.

"You are quite a visit in my debt, Mr. Bingley," she added, "for when you went to town last winter, you promised to take a family dinner with us, as soon as you returned. I have not forgot, you see; and I assure you, I was very much disappointed that you did not come back and keep your engagement."

Bingley felt a little uncomfortable at this reflection, and said something vague of his concern at having been prevented by business. The two friends bowed as Georgiana curtseyed and then excused themselves; on stepping out of the house Darcy heaved a sigh of relief but was quite sure that no one could blame him. He caught his sister's eye as they walked to the carriage and could not help chuckling at her somewhat overwhelmed expression.

"That was...interesting." She said eventually, smiling when her brother rolled his eyes and dryly replied,

"That is one word for it."

"Mrs Bennet is certainly an acquired taste," Bingley admitted, surprising his two companions, and himself.

"And have you acquired it yet?" Darcy questioned, "You know you will have to if you are set on asking for Miss Bennet's hand."

"Will I?" Bingley challenged, smiling but sounding determined. "I believe I will be marrying Miss Bennet, not her mother."

"Quite right," Darcy agreed, not wanting to argue with his friend. He turned to his sister and asked, "How did you like the Misses Bennet?"

"Very well," Georgiana replied before shyly admitting, "though perhaps not quite as well as Miss Elizabeth. Miss Bennet was lovely though," she added with a smile at Mr Bingley. "She is very beautiful."

"She is an angel," Bingley agreed, quite unintentionally. His dreamy expression and faraway voice were really quite sweet and the Darcy siblings grinned at one another, laughing at their friend's blushes.

Chapter 11

Posted on October 21, 2009

"Georgie, would you stop pestering me!"

Georgiana huffed and plonked her hands on her hips as she glared at her ill-tempered older brother.

"I am not pestering you! I am simply asking if we could pay a visit on Elizabeth and her father."

"Yes, for the thirtieth time today," Darcy retorted sarcastically. "And it is not even lunch time!"

"But why cannot we...?"

"Georgie," Darcy exclaimed in exasperation. "What would you have me do? Lord Casterton has made it clear to everyone that his daughter wishes for time to recover; should I just ignore their wishes and arrive at their home unannounced, expecting to be admitted?"

"Could you at least send a note?" Georgiana suggested, discouraged by her brother's logic. "I am worried about how Elizabeth is faring."

"As am I," Darcy breathed, running his hand over his troubled brow. In truth he had not had a good night's sleep in days, too busy worrying about Elizabeth and wishing he could there to comfort her. He dropped his hand as he finally decided, "I will send a note to his lordship; I am not promising that anything will come of it, however," he cautioned his sister but she would not be deterred, happy to have carried her point with him.

"Thank you William," she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. "I am sure everything is fine," she attempted to assure her clearly worried brother.

He smiled briefly at her effort before waving her away, "Let me be; I will pen my note and have it sent right away."

Georgiana smiled to herself and did as she was bid, hoping that everything really was fine and that Miss Casterton would welcome a visit from her brother; Lord knew that he desperately wanted to see her, if his poor mood was anything to go by!

Lord Casterton looked between Darcy's note and his daughter, and then back again. He was torn between on the one hand respecting Elizabeth's wishes and declining the request implicit in the note and on the other inviting Darcy for a visit, if only to see whether his presence could help alleviate his daughter's melancholy. He studied his daughter as she sat reading her book, curled into a small ball with her feet tucked into her skirts. In some ways she appeared better, and yet in others she appeared worse; the bruises had faded considerably and her cut was healing nicely, but her face was pale and drawn, with dark circles under her eyes. She had not been eating properly and that, coupled with her lack of sleep, had resulted in a worrying loss of weight in such a short space of time. There had never been much to her but now she looked as though a stiff breeze would blow her over.

"Papa?"

His unhappy thoughts were interrupted by his daughter's quiet voice and he forced a smile onto his face.

"Yes my dear?"

"Who is your note from?"

"Mr Darcy," he admitted after a moment, watching her reaction closely. "He enquires after our respective health and hopes we were not too inconvenienced by the rain."

"Oh," Elizabeth replied, staring at the page in front of her. "Is that all?" She asked, looking up at her father.

"He implies that he and his sister would be pleased to see us again," her father admitted carefully, dismayed and yet not surprised as Elizabeth almost visibly recoiled at the prospect. Her desire to hide herself away indoors was most troubling to him.

"Do you think..." Elizabeth tentatively ventured, toying with the edge of a nearby cushion. "Do you think we could invite him here?"

"You want to see him?" Her father questioned with considerable surprise; he could see how his tactlessness had upset her and was quick to explain. "Forgive me, I am surprised is all. I thought that you did not welcome visitors," he pointed out gently.

"It is different with Mr Darcy," Elizabeth replied quietly. "He has already seen my...injuries. He knows what happened; he won't ask me any questions."

Lord Casterton admitted to himself that she did have a valid point, and yet at the same time he wondered whether anyone really knew what had happened that day. Elizabeth had refused to speak of it to anyone but it was evident from her frequent nightmares that it had been most traumatic, and that it still continued to play on her mind.

"Very well," he agreed eventually. "I will extend an invitation to him. Do you wish to see Miss Darcy as well?" Elizabeth looked torn over the prospect so he made the decision for her. "Perhaps just Mr Darcy this time; let us not run before we can walk. If the visit goes well, then we can invite Miss Darcy as well."

"Thank you papa," Elizabeth smiled with relief; she did want to see Georgiana again but did not feel up to pretending that all was well. She knew somehow that Mr Darcy would understand how she was feeling and would not expect more from her than she was able to give. She frowned at the thought of upsetting Georgiana and asked, "Do you think Miss Darcy will be offended that she is not invited as well? And Mr Bingley?"

"I doubt Mr Bingley is even capable of taking offence, my dear," her father pointed out with a chuckle before adding kindly, "and I am sure, given the circumstances, that Miss Darcy will understand. She seems like a lovely girl."

Elizabeth nodded, reassured, and her father went to desk to pen his reply to Darcy; he hesitated over how much to reveal before eventually writing the following-

Mr Darcy,

Thank you for your kind enquiry. I myself am quite well and Elizabeth has physically improved a good deal. She is unfortunately still very much affected by what happened to her and suffers from frequent nightmares and a general depression of spirits which has me, I will admit to you, quite concerned. I discussed your note with her and she is feeling up to a visit from you, though as of yet feels unable to face more visitors at this time. She was most anxious that your sister not feel slighted by this and I assure you that no offence is meant; one step at a time, as they say.

If you are not otherwise engaged, we would happily welcome a visit from you on the morrow.

Yours,

M.Casterton.

Though she was naturally disappointed Georgiana did indeed understand the need for Elizabeth to do only what she was comfortable with and accepted that she would have to wait to see her new friend again. She could tell her brother was relieved to finally have been invited even if his pleasure was somewhat tempered by what Lord Casterton had said about Elizabeth's state of mind. He was determined to do whatever he could to help both Elizabeth and his lordship and drove his sister and Bingley to distraction with his impatience for the day to end and the next to begin. Eventually, much to everyone's relief, the time came and he was on his way.

When he arrived at Willoughby he was shown into the library where both Lord Casterton and his daughter were waiting. His lordship stood and welcomed Darcy as Elizabeth turned from her place at the window, dropping a brief curtsey before quickly resuming her study of the view outside of the window. Darcy glanced at Lord Casterton and the elder gentleman sighed, his shoulders rising and falling in a sign of hopelessness. Darcy smiled at him reassuringly and, taking a fortifying breath, stepped closer to Elizabeth.

"Miss Casterton?"

She turned her face to him but did not reply; undeterred Darcy pressed on.

"I was wondering whether you have read any of Robert Owen's work?"

Lord Casterton's brows rose at this unconventional opening and he discreetly withdrew back to his desk, giving the two of them some small semblance of privacy. Elizabeth turned to look at Darcy, her brow furrowed.

"No, I have not." She admitted. "I do not believe I have ever heard of him."

"He is not very well known, I own," Darcy replied, pleased to have drawn her out, albeit only a little bit. "But I find his work most intriguing." He reached into his coat and produced a small book. "I confess that when I read this I could not help but think that you would enjoy it also."

He held the book out to her and Elizabeth took it from him, turning it around so as to read the title.

"A New View of Society." She read, smiling to herself as she remarked. "A most ambitious project."

"It certainly is that," Darcy agreed. He lowered his chin and attempted to catch her eye as he proposed, "I thought that we could perhaps discuss our impressions, once you have had a chance to read it."

"I would like that," Elizabeth breathed. She managed a smile for him as she said, "I will begin right away. Thank you."

"You are welcome," Darcy replied. Seeing that her father was occupied with some correspondence he stepped a little closer to Elizabeth and quietly said, "I am happy to see you again, Miss Casterton."

"And I you," Elizabeth replied with a blush. She looked at the book she held in her hands and then back up at him as he added, "You look much better, if you do not mind my saying so."

"Not at all," Elizabeth assured him. She smiled wanly as she pointed out, "I am still not quite fit for pleasant company as of yet though, I think you will agree."

"Whose feelings are you considering in your avoidance of company?" Darcy questioned pointedly, though his tone was kind and understanding. "Your own, or those of others? Because I think that those who truly care about you will not care about your appearance."

Elizabeth misunderstood what he was attempting to imply and began to apologise, "I know your sister would not judge me and I am sorry that we did not..." she trailed off when Darcy reached out and laid his hand on top of hers.

"I did not mean my sister," he told her firmly; he held her gaze as she looked up at him, her eyes initially showing her confusion before they cleared, and something slowly sparkled to life within their depths.

"How is Georgiana?" She asked after a moment, her tone sounding so much warmer to him than it had before.

"She is well, though she has been driving me to distraction these past few days with her insistence on seeing you," he admitted with a lopsided smile. "You have quite won her over, it seems."

"I do look forward to getting to know her better," Elizabeth replied. "I should like to invite her here, perhaps the day after tomorrow?"

"Only if you are sure you are up to it," Darcy argued, not wanting her to do something she was not ready for.

"I am," Elizabeth assured him, touched by the care he was taking. "Jane is to come tomorrow; between her and your sister, I doubt I will have reason for unease. They are both lovely."

As are you, Darcy wished to reply; instead he smiled and admitted, "Charles was delighted to see her again."

"I am glad to hear it, though I am sure you should not be telling me that," Elizabeth teased lightly in reply. "And such disclosures will not encourage me to tell you what my friend thinks; I am no matchmaker."

Darcy arched his brow in silent contradiction and Elizabeth laughed lightly, "Well, maybe a little. A very little."

Lord Casterton had been amazed to hear the sound of Elizabeth's laughter and sat watching the pair with undisguised delight as they chatted amiably with one another. He couldn't deny that he felt a slight twinge of sadness at the thought that another man was capable of making his daughter happy whilst he had failed, but for the most part he was just relieved and quietly hopeful that something would come of this tentative courtship. He smiled as they moved from the window and came to sit nearby, offering a few comments when needed but mostly just watching and listening.

"Have you heard from the Gregory's recently?" Darcy asked when there was a lull in the conversation. He could not help but smile at Elizabeth's happy reaction as she replied,

"Oh, yes! I had a letter from them just over a week ago. They are very well, and little Benjamin is apparently growing nicely."

"I am pleased to hear it," Darcy replied with genuine pleasure. "I wish them all the best."

"How is your cousin? Is he well?" Elizabeth asked; she noticed Darcy's expression darken slightly as he admitted,

"I believe so, though I cannot be certain. He has been away with his regiment on the continent for the past few months and we have only heard from him twice."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Elizabeth commiserated. "It must be hard, not knowing how he is. And his parents must be worried for him as well."

"Yes," Darcy agreed, "my aunt especially. She wished for him to go into the law but Richard was always destined to go his own way and his choice was the army."

"Well, I shall keep him in my prayers," Elizabeth offered with a tentative smile. She was rewarded with a warm and thankful look from Darcy who startled slightly when Lord Casterton addressed him,

"Where on the continent is he, do you know?"

"Portugal," Darcy replied; he smiled grimly at Lord Casterton's slight grimace. "Yes, I know. It is probably the worst place to be right now, but Richard has always done his duty."

Lord Casterton nodded and they let the subject drop; Elizabeth cast around in her mind for a more cheerful topic and finally pointed out, "I could not help but notice that Mr Bingley's sisters have not accompanied him this time; are we to expect them soon, or can I hope to be spared their delightful company?"

Her impertinence was bordering on rudeness but Darcy was more amused than offended and was captivated by her sparkling eyes. Her father was not quite so affected and cautioned her,

"Lizzy."

"Yes papa?" She replied innocently. She smiled when he sighed and shook his head before turning back to Mr Darcy, awaiting his answer.

"As far as I am aware, neither of his sisters will be joining him at Netherfield, at least not until he summons them."

"Summons them?" Elizabeth repeated, one brow arched. "Does it follow then that he has banished them?"

"Yes," Darcy admitted succinctly. "The Hurst's remain in town and Caroline is with some family in Scarborough; neither is welcome in Charles' home at the moment. For reasons I am sure you will understand," he added in a meaningful undertone.

"Well," Elizabeth breathed; she smiled after a moment and admitted, "I see now what you meant when you said I would find Mr Bingley different from how I remembered him." She smiled widely and added, "Good for him!"

Darcy chuckled at her reaction, thinking himself of how much his friend had changed recently, no doubt for the better. He sobered when Elizabeth, after a long pause, hesitantly asked him,

"I suppose, then, that Mr Bingley is aware of his sisters' interference with respect to Jane?"

"He is," Darcy affirmed; he glanced at Lord Casterton and was relieved to see that gentleman once again occupied with his own affairs. He turned back to Elizabeth and, leaning forward slightly, he confessed, "As well as my own. When he returned to town a fortnight ago I made a confession to him, which I know I ought to have made long ago. I told him of all that had occurred, of my absurd and unwarranted interference in his affairs. His surprise was great. He had never had the slightest suspicion. I told him, moreover, that I believed myself mistaken in supposing, as I had done, that your friend was indifferent to him; I was humbled and yet relieved to find that his attachment to her was unabated, and I have no doubt of their happiness together."

Elizabeth could not help smiling at his easy manner of directing his friend.

"And your assurance of Jane's feelings, I suppose, carried immediate conviction to him."

"It did," Darcy admitted. "Bingley is most unaffectedly modest. His diffidence had prevented his depending on his own judgment in so anxious a case, but his reliance on mine made everything easy. Eventually," he amended with a grimace. "He was, not unjustly, offended and angry when I revealed everything to him and I feared that I had ruined our friendship forever. Happily, however," Darcy concluded with a smile, "he has heartily forgiven me now. Once he realised that he still had a chance with Miss Bennet, nothing else seemed to matter."

"Mr. Bingley is a most delightful friend," Elizabeth could not help but tease, "so easily guided that his worth is invaluable."

On perceiving Mr Darcy's frown Elizabeth wished she had checked herself; that she had remembered that he had yet to learn to be laughed at, and it was perhaps too early to begin. She was happily proven wrong, however, when her companion eventually smiled and admitted,

"You are right, of course. But I believe we two have learnt our lesson."

"I am glad that no permanent damage was done," Elizabeth replied. "And that there is a chance for a very happy outcome indeed. I cannot think of anyone who would be better suited to my friend, than yours."

"That is a very fine compliment," Darcy remarked with a smile, "and be sure that I will share your glowing opinion with Bingley. He will be delighted to hear you think him good enough for your friend."

"And mine will no doubt be delighted to hear that you think she is good enough for yours," Elizabeth quipped in reply, "though as far as I am concerned, the only people's opinions they should care for are their own, and each other's."

"Perhaps you are right," Darcy agreed before playfully adding, "but we are speaking of Charles and Miss Bennet here."

"You two are as bad as one another," Lord Casterton remarked from behind his paper. He peered at the two younger people as he noted, "Need I remind you that they are not engaged, married or even courting as of yet?"

Elizabeth carelessly flapped her hand as she airily replied, "Mere details, papa. It is only a matter of time."

"Not matchmakers indeed," Lord Casterton grumbled, returning to his paper and hiding his smile behind its pages. He almost chuckled when he heard Elizabeth laugh.

"Do you mean to stay long in the area?" Elizabeth asked Mr Darcy when they had recovered their composure. She was puzzled when he choked back another laugh, looking at him quizzically. He looked decidedly uncomfortable for a moment before eventually admitting that,

"Mrs Bennet asked Bingley that very question not three days ago, when we called at Longbourn."

"Oh dear!" Elizabeth laughed, "How unfortunate for me; and for you, no doubt," she pointed out with an arched brow. "How did you manage to assuage her curiosity?"

"I had very little to do with it," Darcy replied with a slight smile. "My friend was the centre of all the attention for a change, thankfully."

"You do not like it," Elizabeth surmised thoughtfully; adding when Mr Darcy looked confused, "Being the centre of attention, as you say."

"I do not," Darcy replied softly. His mind began to replay a similar conversation they had had upon the subject of his reticence and it was evident that Miss Casterton's mind was also travelling along a similar path.

"I am sorry for what I said to you then," she apologised with sad eyes.

Knowing they had so much more to say to one another and wishing for a little privacy, Darcy glanced to the window and back again before proposing, "Shall we take a walk, Miss Casterton? It is a fine day outside."

Lord Casterton looked up upon hearing this request; Elizabeth had steadfastly refused to leave the house before now and he could see how hesitant she was to accept Darcy's request. He was about to offer her a way out of her current predicament when he saw Elizabeth square her shoulders and reply, with only a slight tremor in her voice, that she would like that.

Elizabeth departed to don her gloves, bonnet and spencer, leaving her father and Darcy to themselves. The older man set aside his paper and addressed Darcy with a stern countenance.

"Darcy, I would be grateful if you were to keep a close eye on my daughter whilst you walk. She has not been out of the house since the attack and I believe she fears the thought of it. If she becomes at all distressed, please bring her back inside."

"Of course, my lord," Darcy assured him quickly, troubled by the thought of causing Elizabeth any discomfort. "Forgive me, I should not,"

"Please, you could not have known," Lord Casterton interrupted him, not unkindly. "I was surprised she accepted your invitation, but perhaps she will feel safe with you. Either way," he added with a smile at Darcy's reaction, "I am sure you will take good care of her. And if you could remain within view of the windows, my protective fatherly instincts would appreciate it," he added with a knowing twinkle in his eye.

"Of course," Darcy replied with a nod of his head. Elizabeth joined them then and after pressing a brief kiss to her father's cheek, allowed Darcy to lead her into the hallway.

As he retrieved his gloves and hat from the butler, Darcy watched Elizabeth from the corner of his eye. She was stood at the open door, looking out; he moved to her side and she turned to face him, a welcoming smile quickly slipping into place, although not before Darcy glimpsed the fear on her face.

"Shall we?" He offered her his arm; he placed his hand on top of hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze, keeping his eyes ahead even as he saw her quickly glance up at him.

They walked at a sedate and steady pace, taking the path that would lead them up to and around the pond. After a few moments of obvious unease Elizabeth gradually began to calm, her almost painfully tight grip on Darcy's arm loosening with every few minutes. She was still somewhat jumpy but Darcy kept up a steady stream of idle chatter, hoping to keep her occupied. His efforts did not go unnoticed and Elizabeth was once again overwhelmed with gratitude; he had done so much for her, she had so much to thank him for that she almost did not know where to start. She was so busy with her thoughts that she didn't realise how silent she was, or that Darcy had noticed her growing preoccupation and was wondering if he ought to take her back to the comfort of the house.

He was therefore somewhat surprised when she abruptly turned to him and said,

"Mr. Darcy, I have been a very selfish creature. For the sake of sparing my own feelings I have delayed speaking to you, giving little thought to how much I may be wounding yours with my continued silence. But I can no longer delay thanking you for your unexampled kindness to me. Ever since Kent I have been most anxious to acknowledge to you how gratefully I feel it. And now, with all you have done with regards to Wickham, I have yet another reason to thank you. Please allow me to do so now; please allow me to thank you, on behalf of myself and my father for everything you have done."

Elizabeth was quite breathless by the end of this speech, but she actually could not breathe when Mr Darcy eventually replied,

"If you will thank me, let it be for yourself alone. As much as I respect your father, I believe I thought only of you."

Elizabeth was too much embarrassed to say a word.

Darcy, seeing her distress, sighed; there was so much he wished to say to her, and yet he could not think of where to begin. Elizabeth surprised him by guiltily pointing out,

"After I abused you so abominably, to your face, I do not know how you can even bear the thought of me."

"Eli...," Darcy caught himself just in time. "Miss Casterton, please. What did you say of me, that I did not deserve? For, though your accusations were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises, my behaviour to you at the time had merited the severest reproof. It was unpardonable. I cannot think of it without abhorrence. The recollection of what I then said, of my conduct, my manners, my expressions during the whole of it, is now, and has been these past few months, inexpressibly painful to me. Your reproof, so well applied, I shall never forget: "had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner.'' Those were your words. You know not, you can scarcely conceive, how they have tortured me;--though it was some time, I confess, before I was reasonable enough to allow their justice."

Elizabeth felt tears spring to her eyes at his utter dejection and she attempted to blink them away, the guilt of her misjudgements stabbing painfully at her heart.

"I am so sorry; I was so thoughtless. I never knew that my words would make so strong an impression. I did not even think of how they would affect you, of their being ever felt in such a way."

"I can easily believe it. You thought me then devoid of every proper feeling, I am sure you did," Darcy replied; he had his answer when Elizabeth flushed and averted her face. He smiled grimly as he went on. "The turn of your countenance I shall never forget, when you told me that I was the last man in the world whom you would ever wish to count amongst your friends."

Of course her words, in shattering all his dreams and illusions, had been much more painful to him than she would ever know, but Elizabeth evidently felt she had inflicted more than enough pain as it was.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, covering her face with her hand. "Do not repeat what I then said! I have dwelt on my words enough already; these recollections will not do at all. I assure you that I have long been most heartily ashamed of it."

"Perhaps we should not quarrel for the greater share of blame annexed to that day," Darcy suggested gently, affected by her distress. She looked up into his clouded blue eyes and he managed a small smile for her. The pain of the occasion had returned to him as well, and yet he felt a strange sense of relief at being able to final speak about it with her. "The conduct of neither, if strictly examined, will be irreproachable; but since then, we have both, I believe, done much to improve."

Elizabeth nodded and they stood in silence for a few moments, attempting to compose themselves. Eventually Darcy mentioned his letter.

"Did it," he ventured, "did it make you think better of me? Did you, on reading it, give any credit to its contents?"

She explained what its effect on her had been; about how all her former prejudices had been challenged and how gradually, most of them, had been overcome and removed.

"I knew," said he, "that what I wrote must give you pain, but it was necessary. I hope you have destroyed the letter. There was one part especially, the opening of it, which I should dread your having the power of reading again. I can remember some expressions which might justly make you hate me."

"The letter shall certainly be burnt, if you wish it," Elizabeth agreed. "Though I assure you that my opinions are not quite so easily changed as that implies."

"When I wrote that letter," Darcy admitted after a moment's silence, "I believed myself perfectly calm and cool, but I am since convinced that it was written in a dreadful bitterness of spirit."

"The letter, perhaps, began in bitterness, but it did not end so," Elizabeth admitted, giving his arm a comforting squeeze. "The adieu is charity itself. But think no more of the letter." He looked dubious so she pressed on. "Please. So much has changed since then; every unpleasant circumstance attending it ought to be forgotten."

"I do not wish to forget," Darcy contradicted with a shake of his head. He sighed at her hurt look and tried to explain. "I have done wrong, and I do not wish to simply forget that fact. Painful recollections will intrude which cannot, which ought not, to be repelled. I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child I was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Unfortunately an only son (for many years an only child), I was spoilt by my parents, who, though good themselves (my father, particularly, all that was benevolent and amiable), allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing; to care for none beyond my own family circle; to think meanly of all the rest of the world; to wish at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own. Such I was, from eight to eight and twenty; and such I might still have been but for you," he looked down upon her, his heart in his eyes and Elizabeth held her breath, totally overwhelmed as warmth spread from her insides out. He eventually tore his eyes away and Elizabeth sucked in a quick breath as he went on. "You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you, I was properly humbled."

"Did you...?" Elizabeth paused and took a moment to gather her wits before finally asking, "Did you truly have no idea how little I...favoured you?"

You have no idea, Darcy thought sadly to himself. Out loud he replied, "None at all. What will you think of my vanity? I believed you as...fond of me as I was of you."

Elizabeth blushed at his admitting to a fondness for her and she wished her heart would stop beating quite so quickly; it was most disconcerting!!

"My manners must have been in fault," she replied eventually, knowing it was only a half truth as she had initially been very fond of him, "but not intentionally, I assure you. I never meant to deceive you, but my spirits might often lead me wrong. How you must have hated me after that day?"

"Hate you! I was angry perhaps at first, but my anger soon began to take a proper direction," Darcy assured her humbly. "I am almost afraid of asking what you thought of me, when we met again at the Gregory's. You blamed me for coming?"

"Blamed you?!" Elizabeth repeated, incredulous. "No, not at all. I have never been so grateful for a person's appearance than I was for yours at that moment. I was quite undone, and you were so kind to me... My conscience told me that I deserved no extraordinary politeness, and I confess that I did not expect to receive more than my due," she admitted quietly.

"I confess that at the time I did not really have time to consider my actions," Darcy admitted before adding, "but afterwards I was glad to have been able to show you that I was not so mean as to resent you for the day before."

"And now?" Elizabeth asked, unable to tear her eyes away from his.

"And now?" Darcy repeated. "Now I want to be your friend," he lied. "I want the chance to show you that your reproofs have been attended to," he confessed quietly, almost nervously. "I want to, if I can, obtain your forgiveness and lessen your ill opinion of me. Do you think I have a chance?" He asked quietly, holding his breath.

"I think you do," Elizabeth confessed softly; she looked down as she admitted, "My opinion of you is already so different from what it was then; and as for earning my forgiveness," she looked up and studied him for a long moment before eventually saying, "I believe only time will tell."

"Then I pray that time is on my side," Darcy replied intently; he knew it was too much to ask that she forgive him so easily and was happy with the chance she was giving him. He raised her hand to his lips and bestowed a kiss to the back of it, sealing his silent promise to himself not to give up, no matter how long it took.

"Come," he breathed, returning her hand to its place on his arm. "Let us return to the house. Your father will be wondering what has become of us."

At his daughter's fifth dreamy sigh, Lord Casterton snapped his book shut and demanded,

"Alright, that's it! Who are you and what have you done with my daughter? Or more to the point, what did Mr Darcy do to my daughter?"

"Nothing!" Elizabeth defended the absent gentleman. "I am right here father; what on earth are you speaking of?"

"You, and all this sighing and faraway looks," her father replied. "What is the meaning of it?"

He was purposely seeking to get a confession out of his daughter and was pleased with his success when she blushed and unconvincingly mumbled, "I don't know what you mean."

"Like hell you don't," he scoffed, laughing when she scowled at him and chastised him for his language.

"Honestly, Lizzy," he said in all seriousness, "what happened this afternoon? You've been preoccupied ever since you returned to the house and Darcy; well, Darcy looked positively buoyant."

"He did?" Elizabeth asked eagerly; she blushed again when her father quirked at brow at her telling reaction. "Oh papa, nothing really happened, we just talked, but...he says he wants to be my friend."

"Your friend," Lord Casterton repeated dubiously; if he knew anything it was that Darcy had a good deal more than friendship in mind.

"Yes; he said he was sorry and that he wants to earn my forgiveness."

"Hmmm, he said as much to me," her father mused; he chuckled when Elizabeth indignantly replied,

"You were talking about me?"

"No," Lord Casterton assured her quickly; it was only a tiny lie after all. "Darcy also apologised to me and said he wishes to atone for his past behaviour."

"Have you forgiven him?" Elizabeth asked after a long silence, chewing on her nail.

"I have," her father admitted; he understood his daughter's trouble however and added, "I am somewhat thicker skinned than you though, my dear. I doubt he expects to be forgiven so easily or quickly in your case."

"I told him I needed time," Elizabeth admitted quietly.

"And what did he have to say to that?" Lord Casterton asked, intrigued as to how Darcy had handled this first obstacle.

"He said that he prayed that time was on his side," Elizabeth replied.

Lord Casterton simply nodded; inwardly he was smiling. He had a feeling that his daughter's suitor was not going to give up easily.

"And how do you feel about all this?" He asked eventually, tilting his head and regarding his daughter carefully. "Do you wish to have him as your friend?"

"I do," Elizabeth admitted with very little hesitation. "I am...I am still wary of him, to some extents, but he seems so different now. I may be wrong, I could get hurt all over again, but I cannot help but feel that it will be worth the risk in the end if it all works out."

"Well I admire him a good deal; you could do a lot worse," her father teased, smiling at her blushes.

"Father, you mustn't tease me about this."

"I will try not to," her father promised her; they shared a smile before returning to their respective books. Lord Casterton smiled to himself as he noted how eagerly his daughter devoured the pages in front of her, and how careful she was with her borrowed tome. He only hoped that Darcy was as careful with her shy but slowly flourishing affections.

Chapter 12

Posted on October 28, 2009

When Elizabeth walked into the parlour early the next day, she was met by the sight of Jane worriedly wringing her hands and pacing in front of the fire. She was greatly surprised at this behaviour coming from her usually so calm friend, and that was before Jane caught sight of her and flew across the room.

"Jane!" Elizabeth exclaimed laughingly as she returned the embrace.

"Oh Lizzy, I am so glad to see you! I've been so worried," Jane gushed, pulling back only to hug Elizabeth to her once more. "No one would tell me what had happened beyond saying that you had been attacked and I could not help imagining the worst. But here you are, quite well."

Elizabeth extracted herself from her friend's arms as she smiled wryly and replied, "Well, relatively."

"Do the marks still pain you?" Jane asked anxiously.

"No, not anymore," Elizabeth assured her. She stepped back but took hold of her friend's hands as she said, "It is good to see you too, Jane."

"How are you?" Jane asked earnestly, leading her to the settee. "I cannot even begin to imagine what it has been like for you."

"It was horrible," Elizabeth agreed in a whisper. "But I was luckier than many are; I was able to defend myself and Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley arrived in time to prevent anything else from happening. And now Mr Wickham is gone," she concluded with a feeble attempt at a smile.

"I could not believe it when my father told us what had happened," Jane offered, her innocent eyes wide. "That he should have had the appearance of such goodness and yet be capable of such evil! It is all so awful. But thank god for Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley," Jane went on. "How fortunate it is that they happened to be passing by!"

"Jane," Elizabeth protested meekly. "Please, this isn't helping."

"Oh!" Jane exclaimed, her hand flying up to cover her mouth and her eyes wide as she realised her error. "Oh Lizzy, I'm so sorry. How wicked of me!"

"Jane," Elizabeth interrupted with a light laugh. "You are not wicked. But I would appreciate it if we could speak of pleasanter things."

"Of course," Jane quickly agreed, anxious to make amends.

They lapsed into silence for a moment until Jane shyly revealed, "Mr Bingley called upon me the other day."

"Now that is a pleasanter subject," Elizabeth teased, sitting forward and eagerly demanding, "Well? Is he everything you remember and more?"

"He does seem much as I remember him," Jane admitted before thoughtfully adding, "but at the same time he also seems different as well."

"Different how?" Elizabeth prodded.

"Older somehow," Jane replied slowly, "wiser. More resolute."

"And do these changes please you?" Elizabeth asked, watching her friend closely.

"They do," Jane admitted. She flushed bright pink as she confessed, "Everything about him pleases me."

"Oh Jane," Elizabeth happily sighed, pulling her friend into a brief hug. "I am so happy for you!"

"There is no reason for you to be happy for me Lizzy," Jane reminded her even as she smiled with her joy.

"Yet, Jane. Not yet, but soon there will be; I am sure of it."

"But what if he changes his mind again? What if he is called away once more?" Jane fretted, her fears surfacing once more.

"He won't," Elizabeth assured her firmly. "You said yourself that he is more resolute now than before. And his sisters are not here to influence him," she added meaningfully with an arched brow.

She was greatly surprised when Jane replied,

"They were certainly no friends to his acquaintance with me, were they? Though I suppose I can understand it since he could chose so much more advantageously in many respects. If my hopes are realised though I hope that they can learn to be content, though we can never be what we once were to each other."

"That is the most unforgiving speech," said Elizabeth, "that I ever heard you utter. Good girl! It would vex me, indeed, to see you the dupe of Miss Bingley's pretended regard."

Their conversation then moved onto other things and Jane stayed another half an hour before departing, although not before securing Elizabeth's promise that she and her father would dine at Longbourn the following week. When Jane had gone Elizabeth sought out her father, informing him about the dinner and what she and Jane had discussed. Her father appeared thoughtful as he asked,

"You are so certain of Mr Bingley's affections as to encourage Jane in this manner?"

"Why should I not encourage her?" Elizabeth replied with a slight frown. "You cannot think she is any danger now, surely?"

"He left once before," her father pointed out, "and you cannot know for sure how he feels."

"True; but I have it on very good authority that Mr Bingley is as much in love with Jane as ever and is particularly determined to make her his wife."

"You really think Darcy is such an authority on his friend's affections and intentions?"

"Yes," Elizabeth replied resolutely. "You were here when we discussed it; why do you doubt it?"

Lord Casterton's brow rose at her spirited defence as he noted coldly, "I'd have thought that he had learnt not to interfere by now."

"He isn't interfering," Elizabeth argued, confused and frustrated by her father's attitude.

"Isn't he?" Her father challenged. "Aren't you? You have shared things with each other that your friend's told you in confidence; you should have respected their privacy and trust. And you should have kept whatever Mr Darcy told you about his friend to yourself instead of conspiring to bring Jane and Mr Bingley together."

"I simply want Jane to be happy," Elizabeth defended herself, hurt by the accusation.

"That is no excuse," her father replied mercilessly. "You should let them come together in their own time, when they are ready and completely sure of one another. That way they will avoid making a choice that they will regret for the rest of their lives."

Elizabeth realised with a start that they were not talking about Jane and Mr Bingley and could have hit herself for not catching on sooner; her anger abruptly dissolved as she quietly replied,

"This is different. Jane and Mr Bingley love one another; Jane is not a fortune hunter looking to catch a rich man and neither I or Mr Darcy are a scheming relative, looking to trick Mr Bingley in believing she cares for him more than she actually does. Perhaps Mr Darcy and I are interfering, but in this case it is well meant."

She held her father's gaze until he sighed and rubbed his face; he dropped his hand and sighed again, beckoning to her. She willingly went to him, taking his hand and settling down beside him.

"Forgive me, my dear," he breathed, smiling wanly. "I am out of sorts today. It would perhaps be best if you let me alone."

"You know I won't," Elizabeth replied succinctly, making her father laugh.

"It would have been our 23rd anniversary today," he noted after a long moment.

"I know," Elizabeth replied, patting his hand and laying her head against his shoulder. "I am sorry I forgot until now."

"It is alright," her father assured her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close.

It had always been a difficult day for him, if only because of the multitude of emotions it stirred within him. He remembered the happiness of his wedding day, his pride in his bride and his optimism for the future. But then he remembered the subsequent years, the anger at his initial discovery of her infidelity followed by crushing sadness, desolation and disgust at her behaviour. He remembered how his love had gradually withered, leaving him broken and irreparably damaged. He also remembered his joy at Elizabeth's birth and thanked God for giving her to him. She was his one saving grace and what little of his heart his wife had left him belonged solely to her. And yet, on this day, he still mourned the loss of what could have been.

"I love you papa," Elizabeth whispered, drawing him from his thoughts. "And I will always be here for you."

"I know," her father assured her with a kiss to the top of her head. "You're a good girl."

Elizabeth smiled and wrapped her arms a little tighter about her father, determined to help him keep his demons at bay.

"Do I look alright?"

Darcy chuckled to himself before answering his sister's nervous question.

"You look fine Georgie, stop fretting."

"I really want to make a good impression," Georgiana admitted, fiddling with her bonnet.

Darcy captured her hand and fondly pointed out, "You already did. I am very proud of you for helping Miss Casterton after her attack and I know she and her father are very grateful to you."

"But I do not simply wish for their gratitude," Georgiana argued before concluding with a sigh, "I want them to like me."

That was a feeling Darcy could easily sympathise with and his smile was understanding as he assured her, "I am sure they will love you. Simply be yourself and,"

"Endeavour to speak in more than monosyllables?" Georgiana offered with a flash of humour that made Darcy smile.

"Well, that would help," he teased, dodging the hand Georgiana swatted at him with. "But I was going to say, simply be yourself and let them see you for the lovely young lady you are."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better," Georgiana accused him lightly, blushing at his praise.

"Is it working?" Darcy asked with a smile. He laughed when Georgie rolled her eyes and admitted with a broad smile,

"Yes."

Elizabeth was waiting on the front steps when they arrived and descended quickly, happily extending her welcome to the siblings. She led them into the house, explaining as Hall took their things that her father was in his study.

Darcy smiled as he joked, "Well, you can't say that I don't know when I'm being dismissed. I'll just be on my way then, shall I?"

"Please," Elizabeth replied with playful impertinence, her eyes dancing. "We'll call you if we want you."

Georgiana looked between her brother and Elizabeth with wide eyes, relieved to find that her brother appeared more amused than offended. She allowed Elizabeth to lead her away, still somewhat taken aback by her sportive manner with her brother.

"Georgiana," Elizabeth smiled, "you mustn't look quite so shocked. He is your elder brother and so undoubtedly you must show him respect; I, however, am and have always been wilfully irreverent and your brother makes it so easy for me to tease him. I simply cannot help myself."

"I don't think that he minds," Georgiana ventured as they entered the music room and took their seats. "His mask would slip into place if he did."

"His mask?" Elizabeth queried curiously.

"Oh," Georgiana flushed and looked at her lap. "I should not have said anything," she meekly whispered.

"Do you mean his habit of retreating into himself and appearing aloof and cold when he is uncomfortable?" Elizabeth suggested kindly.

Georgiana's head shot up as she eagerly asked, "You've noticed? You don't just think he's terribly proud and horrible?"

"No, I don't," Elizabeth assured her before admitting with a rueful smile, "though I must own that at first I did think him aloof. Now I know better."

"I am glad you like him," Georgiana admitted with a shy smile. "Most people only care about his money or Pemberley. Few people actually care about him."

"At least he has you to care for him," Elizabeth pointed out gently, touched by the lonely picture Georgiana painted. "And by all accounts you do so most admirably."

"I think I cause him more trouble than I am worth," Georgiana confessed guiltily, the allusion not lost on Elizabeth.

"Of course you don't," she protested confidently. "He is your brother and he loves you; nothing could mean more than that. And you must remember that you are not the only young lady to cause her loved ones trouble," Elizabeth added wryly. "I am undoubtedly just as bad."

"How could you be?" Georgiana asked dubiously.

"It is my fault that I was attacked," Elizabeth replied succinctly. "I angered him to begin with and then grew tired of walking on the estate and ignored my father's warning to not venture further even though I knew Wickham was still in the area. If I hadn't acted the way I did I would have saved everyone a lot of worry and concern. So you see," she concluded with a gentle smile, "we all make mistakes."

Georgiana nodded thoughtfully and Elizabeth allowed her a moment to think before suggesting that they play some duets. Her new friend happily agreed and they moved to the pianoforte.

"Enter."

Darcy opened the door to his lordship's study and poked his head inside.

"Oh, Darcy, good morning," his lordship greeted him, waving him inside. "Come in, sit down. I did not expect you today," he added when Darcy was seated.

"I accompanied my sister on her visit," Darcy explained with a smile, "and was promptly dismissed. The ladies have no need of me, it seems."

Lord Casterton laughed, "So you sought me out instead; I must be a poor substitute."

"Not at all," Darcy assured him, almost honestly. "I hope I am not disturbing you."

"No, no," Lord Casterton replied. "I was just catching up on some correspondence but it's nothing that cannot wait. Tell you what," he exclaimed suddenly, clapping his hands together. "How about a game of chess? You still owe me a rematch," he reminded Darcy with a smile. "What do you say?"

"I'd be happy to play," Darcy replied, "And I fortunately have no plans for the rest of the day," he added jokingly.

"Capital!" Lord Casterton enthused, moving with alacrity to the chessboard.

Darcy smiled at his enthusiasm and followed at his usual, more sedate, pace.

"You are not concentrating."

Darcy smiled ruefully at the justness of Lord Casterton's observation.

"Considering how ably you ignore my inane prattle," his lordship went on, "I am surprised a little music has upset your focus so much."

"It is not so much the music," Darcy corrected as he watched Lord Casterton take yet another of his pieces, "as the laughter accompanying it. I cannot remember the last time I heard my sister laugh like that."

"It appears you were right about Lizzy being good for her," Lord Casterton noted quietly. "But perhaps she is just as good for my daughter," he added with a smile. "Lizzy is laughing as well."

"Yes," Darcy agreed as that very sound reached them yet again. "She does appear better today."

"She is slowly returning to normal," Lord Casterton granted before adding with a frown, "though her nights are still troubled. I had hoped that she would confide in Jane about what happened, but is appears she has not."

"Maybe the pain is still too fresh," Darcy suggested. "Perhaps with time she will be more able to speak of it."

"Is that what it was like with Miss Darcy?" Lord Casterton asked, looking up at Darcy.

"Yes."

"Then I hope that is the case here," Lord Casterton breathed. He looked at the board, smiled, moved his piece and smiled again,

"Checkmate."

"So, tell me Georgiana; besides music, what else do you enjoy?"

"I enjoy reading," Georgiana replied, "and I have been taking lessons in drawing which I have found quite rewarding. William takes me to all the exhibitions in London; some of them are so wondrous."

Elizabeth smiled at her enthusiasm before enquiring, "What type of book do you enjoy?"

Georgiana hesitated for a long moment before eventually confessing, "I am somewhat partial to histories."

She sounded as though she were confessing a deep, dark secret and Elizabeth could not help but laugh, "You need not be ashamed of such a predilection my dear; I myself am very partial to political tracts, as your brother could attest."

"He did mention that you have had a few interesting debates," Georgiana admitted; she smiled shyly and asked, "Have you ever read a novel? I'm told that most young ladies adore them."

Elizabeth gave an unladylike snort. "I attempted one once and discarded it after twenty minutes."

"I read one, but I didn't like it," Georgiana offered. "I cannot abide a heroine who is too perfect, nor one who is forever swooning."

"And when the heroines aren't swooning," Elizabeth added, her face lighting up with laughter, "they are lying about with smelling salts up their nostrils, pining away for some fool who hasn't the courage to offer for them, or else has already offered for some other female. Truly, how can one actually take serious a man who drops to his knees and says, 'Oh my heart, your lips are the petals of a red rose and your eyes are two stars from the heavens'? That is where I would have leapt for the smelling salts!" Elizabeth concluded, laughing.

"And so would I," Georgiana agreed, laughing also.

It the midst of their amusement they were joined by Elizabeth's father and Mr Darcy, both of whom regarded the laughing ladies with surprised but appreciative smiles. Elizabeth and Georgiana attempted to compose themselves as Lord Casterton asked,

"What are you speaking of that has you so amused?"

"Books, my lord," Georgiana replied, seeing that her friend was still giggling too much to be able to answer. Her reply made Elizabeth laugh again and the two gentlemen smiled to themselves at her merriment.

"Forgive me," Elizabeth managed eventually, attempting to catch her breath. "I will endeavor to be serious."

"Don't mind us, my dear," Lord Casterton replied; he took a seat and look between the three young people, two of whom still appeared to be on the verge of laughter. "We heard you laughing and decided to see what all the fuss was about; you greatly affected Mr Darcy's game, Lizzy."

"Oh dear," Elizabeth breathed; she turned to Mr Darcy with a smile. "I am sorry we disturbed you; did you lose very badly?" She asked teasingly.

"It was a veritable rout," Darcy deadpanned, his lips twitching when Elizabeth laughed. He was seized by a sudden idea and proposed, "There is a way you can make it up to me, however."

Elizabeth's brow arched. "Oh? How so?"

"I should like to know what had you so amused," Darcy replied smoothly. "Whatever stories you were sharing must have been extremely diverting to result in such audible hilarity."

"But what if we were sharing secrets?" Elizabeth challenged with a glance at Georgiana who was doing an admirable job of keeping her face straight.

"After so short an acquaintance?" Darcy rejoined with a dubious smile.

"Naturally," Elizabeth replied airily. "Ladies are always in one another's confidences; it is the prerogative of our sex to spend our time sharing everything with one another, especially when it pertains to the opposite sex."

Darcy laughed and reminder her, "I believe I have told you before that I am aware of your habit of professing opinions that are not your own; I could no more believe that you were inclined to gossip than I could believe that you have such amusing secrets to share, particularly pertaining to the opposite sex. At least I certainly hope not," he added with a pretended elderly brotherly frown at his sister, his eyes dancing with amusement. She smiled in return as Elizabeth laughed lightly and admitted defeated.

"Very well, you have found me out; I have no choice, I suppose, but to accede to your request." She turned to Georgiana and asked, "Which story do you think he would most enjoy?"

"The one about the concert was my favourite," Georgiana supplied, smiling already.

"Ah yes," Elizabeth breathed. She rearranged her skirts and leveled a glare at Mr Darcy, "You must promise to be amused sir, if you are truly intent upon hearing this story."

"You have my word," Darcy replied, his lips already twitching.

"Very well," Elizabeth acceded in a long suffering tone, though in truth she did not mind telling the story. "When I was still just a girl, I had a music teacher called Mr Twittle. He was a silly little man with frustratingly beady eyes, and he was very proud of his accomplishments as a music teacher. One day he proposed the idea of a concert for his pupils to my mother and she was only too happy to offer to host the event, pleased with the opportunity of displaying my talent before her friends and the other girl's families, sure that I would wow them all with my prowess. This was regardless of the fact that I possessed neither the talent nor the inclination for such a display; it is a mother's prerogative to exaggerate her child's qualities, though, I suppose."

Though her tone was light and her smile remained in place, it was obvious to Darcy that this was not an entirely pleasant recollection for Elizabeth. He doubted that it would ever be explicitly stated, but reading between the lines it was obvious that the Lady Casterton had forced her daughter into doing something she didn't want to do; it was quite a revealing story and Darcy felt a stirring tenderness, a protectiveness toward her that he had not experienced so strongly before.

"Anyway, Mr Twittle got his wish and everyone was invited to our house; I did my best to avoid having to attend, but alas, my brilliant plan failed."

"What was your brilliant plan?" Darcy asked.

"I sent a note to my mother," Elizabeth confessed with twinkling eyes, "saying that I had taken to my bed with a case of cholera, but that the concert should go one without me and that she should ask everyone to pray for my recovery."

Darcy laughed in spite of himself and it was a moment before Elizabeth continued.

"Now, in my youth I was convinced that Mr Twittle was the one responsible for my current predicament, even though in actual fact he would have been happy if I had stayed away, little credit that my performance would have been to his skills as a teacher. As it was, however, I was quite put out with him and, seized by the perverse desire to get my own back on him, I peppered his snuff box. It was a trick I had learnt from a friend of mine although I did not expect it to have quite so much of an effect on so many people."

"What happened?" Darcy asked, intrigued.

"Well, everyone began arriving and Mr Twittle, being a genial fellow, naturally shared his snuff box with the other gentlemen. The concert began and many would later attest to the fact that several of the gentlemen were reduced to tears, either because the playing was so bad, or so beautiful, depending on whom you asked. I, of course, knew what was happening and was so diverted that by the time that it was my turn I was almost crying from laughing so much and could barely complete my chosen piece," Elizabeth concluded merrily, smiling at the laughing Darcy siblings.

As Mr Darcy and Georgiana regained their composure, Elizabeth lapsed into a pensive silence. For a brief moment she was a girl again, trying to make herself as small as possible as her mother, having discovered the truth, raged at her with irrational fury. Her father, who had up until that point remained silent, roused her from her unhappy thoughts as he noted,

"It is to my eternal regret that I missed that concert; I should have liked to have seen how well Mozart can be performed whilst laughing."

"Not very well," Elizabeth assured him laughingly. She turned to Mr Darcy, "Well sir, was that worth losing for? Are you amused?"

"Very much so," Darcy assured her before adding, "though I am confused as to why they made you play; why not simply have you sing instead? You have such a beautiful voice."

He stated it as though it were a matter of fact and Elizabeth was very pleased with the compliment. Her father, noting her blush, replied for her,

"Lizzy didn't discover her voice until some years later. I believe it came as something of a surprise."

"It certainly did," Elizabeth agreed earnestly. "I was greatly relieved."

"You were?" Georgiana queried.

"Yes; you see I hadn't a feminine accomplishment to my name before then," Elizabeth explained. "I couldn't sew a stitch that didn't look as if it were done blindfolded, I couldn't play the pianoforte and I delighted in doing all the things that young ladies were not supposed to do."

"Like climbing trees," Darcy provided knowingly.

"Precisely," Elizabeth replied and they shared a smile.

"It is undoubtedly my fault that you favoured less feminine pursuits," her father pointed out; Elizabeth smiled and lovingly pressed his hand. "I was ill-equipped to teach anyone how to embroider, unfortunately, but history and the languages I could manage. And tree climbing of course," he added with a grin.

"Though I do sometimes complain," Georgiana piped up, "I do enjoy my lessons. I believe I would be bored if I was confined to nothing but music and sewing all day."

"We are both lucky," Elizabeth noted, "that our guardians have seen fit to further our education. Many would question the need; after all, what use is geography or history or mathematics to a woman who will spend her life embroidering handkerchiefs for her husband?"

"Gentlemen such as those who believe such things," Darcy stated, "cherish antiquated ideas and I have little time for them; they fail to understand how a wife who has enhanced her life by pursuing an education can enhance their own life as well."

"You would wish for a well educated wife then I take it Darcy?" Lord Casterton surmised.

"I would," Darcy affirmed; it was with considerable effort that he prevented himself from looking directly at Elizabeth as he said, "I wish for a true companion, one with whom I could converse and discuss all manner of subjects with on an equal footing; I could not be happy any other way."

"Nor I," Elizabeth quietly agreed; Darcy looked to her as she added, "I know I would not be happy if I did not truly esteemed my husband; if I were trapped in an unequal marriage and were unable to respect my partner in life. At the same time, however, I know that I could never be happy if my husband did not respect me. It is a prerequisite, without which I could never consent to marry anyone."

Darcy felt that, whether intentionally or not, Elizabeth was speaking directly to him and her words were immediately taken to heart. His failure to respect her in the past was very apparent to him but he was determined to make her see that he did so now, most certainly, and that he would be proud to have her at his side, no matter what the ton had to say about it. He knew now what truly mattered in life (love, happiness, trust, respect) and the opinions of those wholly unconnected to him certainly did not.

A few days later Elizabeth and her father kept their promise and travelled to Longbourn for the evening. It was the first time Elizabeth had ventured beyond Willoughby since the attack and she was undeniably nervous about her reception, dreading having to parry Mrs Bennet's questions and remarks which were sure to be as insensitive as they were inappropriate. She smiled gratefully at her father when he squeezed her hand reassuringly as they approached the house, taking a deep and fortifying breath. Allowing her father to assist her from the carriage she squared her shoulders and took his arm, slowly walking into the entrance hall where Mrs Bennet and Mr Bennet stood waiting.

"Good evening Lizzy, Michael," Mr Bennet greeting them warmly and familiarly as Mrs Bennet stood staring at Elizabeth's face.

"Good evening Thomas," Lord Casterton replied. "Good evening Mrs Bennet," he added pointedly, drawing the ladies attention. "Thank you for your invitation."

"You are most welcome, my lord," Mrs Bennet managed to reply. Mr Bennet, Lord Casterton and Elizabeth all waited for her to say something else and were all quite surprised when she managed to hold her tongue.

"Well, shall we?" Mr Bennet offered, leading the way to the parlour.

Elizabeth stiffened when she first entered the room as all the Bennet daughter's turned to look at her; she kept her eyes on Jane and managed to appear tolerably composed as she exchanged greetings and pleasantries with her friend. During a pause in the conversation she happened to glance up and catch Lydia looking at her with a good deal of distress. Rising, Elizabeth walked over to the younger girl and sat down.

"What is it Lydia?" She asked quietly; she could not remember the last time she had purposefully sought the young girl out like this and could tell Lydia was similarly feeling the novelty of it.

"Did Mr Wickham really do that to you?" Lydia asked in a whisper, not seeming to realise how her question could be taken.

"He did," Elizabeth confirmed. She knew Wickham had been a favourite of this particular Bennet.

"Lord, how awful," Lydia breathed, staring at Elizabeth's bruises. "Everyone's been telling me he's a mean sort but I didn't realise...I'm sorry I ever thought well of him," she said suddenly.

"Appearances can be deceptive," Elizabeth agreed; she smiled reassuringly as she added, "There is no harm done though Lydia; I daresay we will both learn from this and be the better for it."

Lydia nodded mutely, her eyes still on Elizabeth's bruises and the cut on her cheek. Elizabeth was happy for the distraction of the arrival of the Bennet's other guests; Mr Bingley, Mr Darcy and his sister. She smiled across the room at Georgiana and then caught Mr Darcy's eye; she kept her smile in place and was pleased to see him return it.

The addition of Mr Bingley served not only to liven up their little party, but to also restore Mrs Bennet to all her former glory. Fortunately Mr Bingley was far to occupied with Jane to pay attention to her mother and Darcy was far too occupied debating with his host and Lord Casterton to take note either. Lydia seemed subdued following her discussion with Elizabeth, Mary was quite happy to eat in silence and Kitty quite happy to listen to her mother; that left Elizabeth and Georgiana to talk to each other who were perfectly happy with that arrangement. The party eventually moved to the dining room and the meal passed in a very agreeable manner for practically all.

It was not often during the evening that Elizabeth could turn her eyes on Mr Darcy himself; but, whenever she did catch a glimpse, she saw an expression of general complaisance, and in all that he said she heard an accent so far removed from hauteur or disdain of his companions, as convinced her that the improvement of manners which she had already witnessed before that evening was of a lasting duration and did not apply simply to herself and her father. Never before had she seen him so desirous to please, so free from self-consequence or unbending reserve in company as he was now, and she could not help but be pleased by his efforts. When she saw him behaving thus with people with whom any intercourse a few months ago would have been a disgrace; when she saw him thus civil, not only to herself, but to the very friends whom he had openly disdained, and recollected their last lively scene in Kent, the difference, the change was so great, and struck so forcibly on her mind, that she could hardly restrain her smile of happiness.

Darcy remained oblivious of Elizabeth's appreciation until he happened to look her way towards the end of the evening; their eyes met across the room and she bestowed upon him such a warm, glowing smile that he immediately flushed and averted his eyes. Wondering what he had done to earn such a smile he ventured another glance; she had not looked away but her smile had turned playful and her eyes were dancing. He held her gaze as he smiled in return, his eyes warming her with their intensity; they remained thus transfixed, oblivious to their company until Elizabeth was addressed directly by Mrs Bennet and her attention was diverted.

Little did they realised that their interaction had not gone unnoticed; Mr Bennet shot a sideways glance at his friend as he noted, "It is comforting to know I am not alone in having an ardent suitor to deal with. Though yours is somewhat more...refined, I must say," he noted sardonically as he regarded an enraptured Bingley. "I almost wish he would simply declare himself and have done with it."

"Yes," Lord Casterton replied absently, watching Darcy and Lizzy steal glances at one another.

"Are you alright Michael?" Mr Bennet asked in an undertone, looking closely at his friend.

"Me?" Lord Casterton replied; he turned to his friend and smiled sadly, "I am fine; at least, as fine as a father realising he is about to lose his daughter can be."

"You will not lose her; she is devoted to you," Mr Bennet pointed out quietly.

"She is falling in love with him," Lord Casterton countered equally as quietly. He sighed and shook his head, smiling at his foolishness. "Listen to me; it has always been my hope that Lizzy find someone, and yet now that she has I wish to keep her with me. I am a fool."

"You are a father," Mr Bennet replied with sincere understanding.

The two friends looked at one another before sighing heavily and moving to separate parts of the room, re-engaging with the gathered company. Both kept half an eye on their daughters and the men who would eventually steal them away from them.

Later that night, Elizabeth lay in her bed, trying to make sense of her feelings for Mr Darcy.

She certainly did not hate him. No; hatred had vanished long ago, and she had almost as long been ashamed of ever feeling a dislike against him that could be so called. The respect created by the conviction of his valuable qualities, though at first unwillingly admitted, had for some time ceased to be repugnant to her feelings; but above all, above respect and esteem, there was a motive within her of good will which could not be overlooked. It was gratitude. Gratitude, not merely for everything he had done for her, but for his being able to forgive all the petulance and acrimony of her manner of rejecting his offer of friendship in Kent, and all the unjust accusations accompanying her rejection. He who, she had been persuaded, would avoid her as his greatest enemy, was, now, most eager to further the acquaintance, was soliciting the good opinion of her friends and appeared bent on encouraging a friendship between her and his sister.

Such a change in a man of so much pride excited not only astonishment but gratitude; and yet, she was at a loss as to what to attribute it to. Could it be for her? Did Mr Darcy, as her father seemed determined to believe, love her? Her heart was in a flurry at the thought but she could not put her finger on exactly how she felt about such a possibility. She respected, she esteemed, she was grateful to him; she felt a real interest in his welfare; and yet there remained one fundamental, seemingly insurmountable obstacle! Elizabeth was afraid.

If anybody else had accused of feeling such a thing she would have fervently denied the accusation, but Elizabeth could be honest with herself. She was afraid of being hurt, of opening her heart to him and letting herself love this quiet, compassionate, handsome man (which she rightly believed would be very easy to do once she'd allowed herself to let go of her fears). There was so much uncertainty! He had expressed a desire for friendship but nothing more; what if her feelings were not returned? He was charming and attentive here in the country; what would happen when he eventually had to leave Netherfield? Or when she had to travel to Dorset to see the Fraiser's? Would they ever see one another again? Would he want to?

Huffing out an exasperated breath, Elizabeth flipped onto her stomach and pummelled her pillow in sheer frustration. She felt like a naive child, lost in the wilderness with no one to guide her. She had never expected this to happen to her; she had always been realistic about her chances of happiness. Of course that had not stopped her dreaming, however, and she had dreamt of one day falling in love, of being swept off her feet by a handsome knight in shining armour that would carry her away to his castle and keep the ton dragons at bay. It had always just been a dream though and, perhaps unsurprisingly, reality was proving a touch more complicated than she had anticipated. Eventually Elizabeth's frustration abated and a reluctant smile tugged at her lips as she relived her youthful fantasy, this time with her knight's features well defined and strikingly familiar. Sighing at her silly, romantic notions Elizabeth reached over and blew out her candle; it took her mind a long time to quiet and when it eventually did she dreamt of a certain tall and dark gentleman with beautiful blue eyes. It was the first night that she did not dream about Wickham.

A/N: The inspiration for the music teacher story comes from Whitney, My Love by Judith McNaught.