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Chapter 1: Venir la découverte me

Posted on 2010-04-08

Mr. Darcy was not one for expressing his feelings openly, and his shy demeanor was often mistaken for one of arrogance and pride. He had only two confidents that he could trust wholeheartedly. His sister, Georgiana, was all that was left of his immediate family, and his love for her was evident even to complete strangers, though they did not often acknowledge their depth. It was his second confident, his cousin Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, who stumbled upon a crumpled up piece of paper, clearly meant to have been burned as it laid mere inches from a crackling fire.

Richard was never one to pry, but this past week had been a confusing and hectic one. Darcy had made a sudden decision to quit Rosings a week earlier than intended. He had insisted Richard need not accompany him back to Pemberly, but Richard was no fool, and he knew his life long companion had disturbing things on his mind. He decided Darcy was not to be left alone at present time. Here was a letter, evidently in Mr. Darcy's hand writing, and he was sure it held all of the answers he was seeking in regards to his currently inebriated cousin.

Feeling terrible for the invasion of privacy, he uncrumpled the letter and read:

Mother had always told me that keeping a diary is like having a friend to tell all of your secrets to, and never having to fear them being passed on. That was when I was 12, and I am still not so sure that this is necessary, but I am finding my emotions out of control at the moment, and though I trust Richard more than this dusty old book my mother entrusted to me all those years ago, I cannot bear to admit my weakness.

I love you with my heart and soul, my mind and body. I love you with an aching in my heart that tells me that despite propriety, I must be with you no matter what. This same aching tells me that this will never be, and I must, and will, live without you. I love you my Elizabeth.I'll love you forever

The letter was sighed with a dried tear drop, crinkling the yellowed paper. Richard was shocked beyond belief, beyond words. Had this not been in his cousins unmistakable handwriting, he would believe it a forgery. Darcy was in love with Elizabeth Bennett? They were so different, and Darcy took his position in society seriously, to a point where it was ridiculous. He must really be in love if his feelings were altered so.

Richard threw the letter into the fire, determined that no other prying eyes should see it. Then he cast his eyes to the ceiling, where just above, Fitzwilliam Darcy was dreaming….

"Elizabeth," He breathed into her ear. His whole body was on top of hers as he ducked his head for another passionate kiss. You are doing this in the wrong way Darcy. He told himself. He couldn't really bring himself to care enough to stop however. She was willing and even as excited as he was. When he kissed her neck he could feel her pulse, and when she looked at him, he spoke the words he needed to say before this went any further.

"Elizabeth!" he cried in despair.

"Elizabeth."

Her name had escaped his lips just as easily and naturally as breathing, and he sat up in his bed, trying not to recreate the scene he had so exquisitely dreamt up in this very room.

He wanted to remember the dream before it slipped away, like most did. He had asked her to marry him… in French. Odd. He hadn't spoken French in years.

She answered him in French. 'Venir la découverte me' She had said. 'Come find me.'

As much as the invitation enticed him, he knew that the dream Elizabeth and the actual Elizabeth wanted two completely different things.

Despite his better efforts over the past weeks, he could not forget her and never expected to. A part of him didn't want to forget her, but he mentally recoiled from the pain just her name could bring to him. Not even in sleep could he find an escape.

Darcy was determined to exhaust himself to the point of dreamless sleep, and he tried this everyday. Evidently today he had not succeeded. Taking no notice of the time, Darcy quickly dressed and very nearly ran to his front door. 'come find me.' She had said. He was doing the opposite. He was running away.

Darcy was also battling a massive headache. In one of his weakest moments of his life, he had succumbed to the draw of alcohol. His mental state having got to the point of being unbearable, he sought the thoughtless escape a couple glasses of brandy could bring. But it had quickly worn off, leaving him with a headache to top all his other, non physical pain.

Thankful it was dark out, the light a sure pain to his eyes in his current state, he found his favorite steed, Agaue and mounted him quickly. Agaue was fast as he had ever seen in a horse, and right now he needed the speed to wipe his mind clean.

Darcy dearly hoped these two am rides wouldn't become a habit.

He urged the horse to move faster, faster then he had ever pushed him before. He knew not how long he was riding, but it seemed ages, and the sun was just beginning to rise when he suddenly realized that he had gone in a strait path west.
Another sleepless night for Mr. Darcy, and now the sun was rising. The sun reminded him of her, and it pleased him and pained him at the same time. Was he ever going to be free?

He slowed to a gallop as he rounded the bend of an old dirt road infrequently traveled, briefly considering finding a stream for Agaue to drink and rest up before the long journey home. You could imagine Darcy's surprise when a break in the trees revealed an overturned carriage about a half mile up the winding road.

Concern for its occupants, a welcome distraction to his current thoughts, overcame his hastily made plans to revive his horse, and with a loud 'ya!' he propelled Agaue to follow the road and make it to the capsized vehicle in record time.
Quickly dismantling, he observed the scene quickly. The carriage seemed vaguely familiar, and hoped that someone he was acquainted with was not in any serious danger. He had no knowledge of what transpired, or when, but he knew it was his gentlemanly obligation to help. (and she had accused him of not being a gentleman! Absurd!)

He briefly wondered where the horse or horses pulling the carriage had gone.

He had no difficulty opening the upside-down door, the glass was shattered and glittered in the brilliant morning sun. Perhaps they had vacated in search for help?

He knocked before looking in, then realizing how preposterous that was, bent down to better observe the situation inside--and nearly cried out in surprise and angst.

There, on the roof of this carriage, now on the ground as opposed to being in the air, laid the woman of his every thought, dream, breath…. Broken, bleeding, and with no sign of life.

Elizabeth Bennett was clearly on her way home from Rosings, but her dress was in ruins, hair covering half her face and caked in blood, having clearly sustained a head injury, along with many others.

"Miss. Elizabeth!" He cried out, crawling into the carriage with her, turning her onto her back to look up at him. "Miss. Elizabeth!" he tried again, checking her pulse. He was no physician, but he was positive a heart should not beat so slow. How long had she been out here, hurt and bleeding?

She moaned slightly, opened her eyes and looked at him with an expression of confusion, before she lost consciousness once more.

Trying hard not to jostle her, Darcy scooped her into his arms and carried her while crouching, causing his leg muscles to roar in protest, but he cared not. He needed to get her help as soon as possible.

Mentally promising his horse all the carrots he wanted when they arrived back at Pemberly, he somehow managed to get himself and Elizabeth onto him.

"Je vous ai trouvé mon amour" He whispered to her as he directed his horse north to the nearest town. I have found you my love.

Chapter 2: Sleeping Beauty

Posted on 2010-04-12

The parlor of the one and only Mr. Waide was bright with sunshine and the sounds of lively children could be heard from outside. Everything about this setting was in contrast to Mr. Darcy, who had not stopped pacing since he had carried Elizabeth in at the crack of Dawn. He was miles of home, improperly dressed and working on about an hours worth of sleep, but he did not care at this point. This was the home of the physician Frederik Waide, a proficient and the best doctor in Derbyshire. Darcy was merely grateful that circumstances had landed the tragic accident within miles of his home, a mere fifteen minutes on horseback.

The sunlight clashed with his dark mood, the musical laughter of children was an ear piercing dissonance.

He thought he had paced a rut in the floor when finally a door to his left opened, and Mr. Waide appeared with his hands clasped behind his back. "Mr. Darcy." He said, nodding his head in respect to the superior man in his presence. "It seems that our young Miss. Bennett has had major blood loss, and I would suggest that she be on bed rest for at least two weeks, and drinks many liquids to help replenish her blood supply. Other then that and the few stitches to her upper forehead, there is not much more we can do for her."

"But will she be okay?" He asked, not trying to mask his concern that was just too overwhelming to be considered normal. Anyone would feel concern for a young woman in peril, but it was clear to the young doctor that Darcy's attachment went beyond a few pleasant exchanges in a parlor.

The doctor hid his knowing smile well, and said "We cannot rule out amnesia, but it doesn't not seem likely that she will forget more than the incident, and perhaps a few weeks prior. If we are lucky, there will be no memory loss at all, but as we have no way to inspect the mind, nor do we fully understand how it functions, I can give you no clear answer."

Darcy thanked the man, and resisted the urge to see her himself.

A couple hours ago, Darcy had dispatched one of the doctor's footmen to send a letter to Colonel Fitzwilliam, vaguely explaining his absence and that he would need the carriage sent to the doctors home post haste.

Now as he gazed out the window, his personal carriage with the Darcy crest painted on it pulled up to the front door, awaiting its newest occupants. With a pang, Darcy realized that he and Elizabeth could have been sharing this carriage under such different circumstances, had she accepted his hand.

Usually, a patient would stay in a guest bedroom at the physician's house until conscious, but unfortunately Darcy had happened upon the doctor and his family on the same morning they were planning on leaving for the Lake District.

Two footmen carried Elizabeth into the carriage making sure she was comfortably situated, even though she would not be awake to express her opinion on the matter of discomfort. Darcy smiled a small smile when he thought of her reaction to being treated quite unceremoniously.

He solemnly followed the two men and Elizabeth to his carriage, after thanking the doctor profusely, and promising a hearty payment upon his return to the district, as this was one of the rare occasions that Darcy had no money on his person.

He hesitated outside the door of his carriage, wondering briefly if he should sit atop with Mr. Hansley to allow the young woman her privacy. But the draw of watching her while she slept too peacefully, and uncaring of the utter inappropriateness of his decision, he took the bench opposite her sleeping form, closing the door and tapping the roof in a signal to be on their way.

He thought to himself that it was a wonder what one simple marriage rejection could do to a person. He was utterly transformed. He had spent nearly two days after handing her that letter picking apart her brave speech against his character, and trying to decide what was justified and what was not. He had felt wholly disappointed and ashamed with himself when he realized that most, if not all, of her accusations against his character were based on fact. One such was that he was arrogant and conceited. Had he not gone into that room, boasting to her that he was in love with her against his better judgement? And then after insulting her so completely, he fully expected her heartfelt acceptance of his proposal.

Yes, he was a changed man indeed. Two weeks ago, no matter what his feelings were, he would have forced himself to ride outside of the carriage, but here he was now, watching her peaceful form with a small frown on his face. Why would she not wake up?
The long ride home was excruciating. In his early morning ride he had managed to become fifty miles away from Pemberly in a roundabout way, and the ride was even longer in a carriage. The whole time he watched her, hypnotized by her even breathing, readying himself each time she stirred, sure that she would wake and want to be removed from his presence immediately. The thought stung him most profoundly, but he still could not help studying her.

He drifted to sleep with the sway of the carriage and the sound of her even breaths lulling him to a state of semi-consciousness. For some reason an old English song his mother used to sing to his sister in French came to him, and he found himself softly humming along to her melodic voice that only existed in his head now.

I wonder, I wonder
I wonder why each little bird has a someone
To sing to, sweet things to
A gay little love melody.

I wonder, I wonder
If my heart keeps singing, will my song go winging
To someone, to find me
And bring back a love song to me.

Not realizing he had been humming loud enough to disturb her, Darcy nearly jumped out of his skin, when a soft moan escaped Elizabeth's mouth. He opened his eyes to see her raise a hand to her forehead, her eyes squeezed tightly shut against the light.

"Miss. Bennett?" He asked cautiously, and he saw her physically stiffen at the sound of his voice. She seemed to be curious enough to brave the bright light, and opened her eyes but a fraction to focus on him.

"Mr. Darcy?" she asked, seeming extremely confused, but not angry to see him. He felt relived, but soon stifled the feelings, knowing that she was not herself at the moment and could easily still harbor feelings of resentment towards him. "What happened? Why am I here?" she was extremely confused, and his heart went out to her.

"Do not be alarmed madam," he said in his most soothing voice. It was odd to speak to her so formally, when his thoughts concerning her were far from what was deemed appropriate and acceptable. "You were in a carriage accident. I intercepted you early this morning, and brought you to a physician. You are in no immediate danger, but you are to be on bed rest at Pemberly for the next couple weeks."

Her eyes widened at the thought of being trapped in his home for such a time, and her only consolation was that it had been he who found her, and not a common scoundrel intent on making her bend to his demands.

The relative shade they had been driving in provided by a vast expanse of trees finally broke, and the sunlight being let into the cabin was suddenly much brighter. Elizabeth unwillingly let out a strangled moan and hid her face from the usually welcome sun.

Darcy unthinkingly reached over and pulled the shades down. They were heavy ones, designed for when he was on a lengthy trip and required a peaceful nap during the day. Now the two of them were cast in near darkness, and he was well aware of that fact.
There was something about the dark that made him feel brave, and without thinking, his arm reached out to brush some of the hair that was clinging to her forehead due to perspiration away. But just before he made contact with her skin, something he had been longing to do since their dance at the Netherfield ball, he pulled away and cleared his throat, thankful that she had closed her eyes once more so that she did not witness his moment of weakness and impropriety.

"Please forgive me for my frankness Miss. Bennett, but may I inquire what you were doing as far north as Derbyshire? Surely you have gone right through Hertfordshire after your departure from Kent, and was that not your destination?" He was after all curious. Darcy had not been thinking strait this morning when he found her, and had assumed she was on his way home from Hunsford, but that made no sense. Derbyshire was completely out of the way.

So she naturally surprised him by saying, "Am I not in Kent anymore?" for anyone other than Elizabeth, this would be extremely stressing news, to learn you have no recollection of departing from a place and winding up so far from home, but she handled the news calmly, all things considered.

"Ah, Mr. Waide said you might experience some memory loss. What is it you last recall Miss. Elizabeth?" he asked politely, trying not to look at her so much anymore. Although it was entirely wrong to stare at her while she was asleep, it seemed worse while she was awake. This was probably due to the fact that she could insult him and twist the knife she already had even deeper into his heart.

"I was walking under the trees reading a letter…." She paused, and it had an air of awkwardness to it. "It was a letter from you Mr. Darcy."

"Ah." Was all he could manage to say. The letter she was referring to was the only one he had ever written to her. Well, written and delivered anyway. He detected no hostility, but he still must not let his guard down. She could very well not remember much about their argument, what had started it, or even the contents of the letter.

His last utterance hung in the air for a while, her discomfort nearly tangible to him, and he was decidedly happy that they were only twenty minutes from their destination now. He told her so, and she replied politely enough.

They spoke not a word except for when the carriage stopped outside of Pemberly doors. "Are you well enough to make your way to your temporary chambers Miss. Elizabeth?" he asked.

"I am sure I can manage Mr. Darcy, I thank you." Her tone was civil, but with an unexplainable edge to it.

"I will escort you up." He said, as he stepped out of the carriage, and offered her his hand to help her out. The sun was not affecting her as badly as an hour ago when she first awoke, but she still seemed to be in pain, and he wanted to make sure she was comfortably situated as soon as possible.

He offered his arm, and she took it, unable to deny that she was shaky and her balance more than a little effected.

"In what kind of situation did you discover me Mr. Darcy?" she asked quietly, looking around his house in true awe. In one of those increasingly frequent pangs, he knew that all of this could have been hers. Does she know that, or does she remember nothing of his professions of love and proposal of marriage? Would that be a good thing or bad thing?

It was decidedly bad. That would leave her opinion of him as bad as it was before, it would mean she would blame him for Jane's unhappiness and Wickham's supposed misfortunes. Does she still blame him if she remembers all, letters included? Never did he think he would see the day he was jealous of George Wickham, but it has come. He had, and may still be a favorite of hers after all.

"Mr. Darcy?" she inquired again, breaking him out of his thoughts, and he suddenly remembered her inquirer.

"I regret to inform you that I found you alone and bleeding in a capsized carriage along a nearly forgotten road close to the boundary of Nottinghamshire. I assisted you to the nearest physician." He need not explain that she had not been awake for any of it, or that he had held her a little too tightly and intimately on the ride into the nearest town. She did not need to know that.

Elizabeth nodded, seeming confused. "I wonder why I find myself in Derbyshire?" she asked, more to herself than anything. We were nearing the top of the first flight of stairs, and I felt her pace starting to drag a bit.

"Miss. Elizabeth, are you sure you are feeling up to the journey to the third floor?"

"The third floor?" she asked, her tone indicating mixed emotions. Was she surprised that his home was as large as this, or was it merely doubt that she would make it so far?
Of course, he could have her situated on the second floor without a problem, but he selfishly wanted her close to him, so that he could assist her in anything she might need. He wanted to dote on her, keep watch over her, and protect her. What better place to do that then from the room situated down the hall from his own? Generally the third floor was primarily for family, but many of the rooms have not been occupied for a while.

Then her feet she started to sway, and they stopped walking. It only took him half a second to make up his mind, and he bent down to scoop her up by knocking out the back of her knees. "Forgive me Miss. Elizabeth, but I see no other alternative. You must get to your room, and I must write to your family as soon as possible, assuring them that they need not be concerned for your health." His words came out in a rush that sounded like he was not only trying to justify his actions to her, but to himself as well.

She said nothing, just held her form stiffly in his arms. She must really be exhausted as her resolve slowly melted, and the movement of his body as he carried her up another flight of stairs and down a hallway made her sleepy. Her eyes closed, and when he looked down, it took his breath away. Elizabeth Bennett had just fallen asleep in his arms, and it felt so right, looked so right, he never wanted to leave this moment in fear that something more ugly and disappointing, like Elizabeth's true repulsion towards him, would rear its ugly head and strike him once more.

He brought her into the rose room, and set her on the plush bed with the sheets turned up invitingly. He placed the blankets over her sleeping form, and crossed the room to ring the bell for a servant. He stood, back strait, hands clasped behind him and an appropriate distance away until the servant showed.

"Please bring a pitcher of water and empty glass to be set on Miss. Bennett's bedside for when she awakes. She is under doctors orders to drink as much liquids as possible, and I would like her to have a speedy recovery." He commanded in his authoritative voice. Of his many tones, his 'Master of Pemberly' voice, as Charles Bingly liked to call it, was the most intimidating. The servant bowed and hastily returned with what Darcy had
requested, and retreated from the room. If he found it odd that his master was staying in the room with the young women, he showed nothing in his expression to show it.

When he was positive they were quite alone, Darcy crossed the room and finally did what he had been longing to do. He softy ran the back of his hand across her cheek. Her skin was soft and silky, and he longed to hold her head in his hands and memorize every contour, but he knew it was risky just to be doing this. So he backed away to the door, and just before shutting it, he looked at her and whispered to her in French once more. He didn't know what was compelling him to speak in French, but it strangely fit with the circumstances. Sweet dreams sleeping beauty

"Dear lord, it is not true!" Richard gasped with a fake appalled expression on his face at what he had just witnessed. "Fitzwilliam Darcy, a romantic!?" he exclaimed.

Darcy turned to face his cousin, chagrin washing over him, but he held his composure. "I have not the faintest idea what it is you are taking of Richard." Darcy said, closing her bedroom door softly.

"Come now cousin, you just rescued a damsel in distress, carried her up a flight of stairs and bid her fair dreams in French. You, my dear sir, are in love." Of course, he already knew this, but to admit to his cousin that he had read the private diary entry meant to be burned was not something he was willing to do.

Darcy's only reply was to turn and head towards the stairs. Colonel Fitzwilliam was right on his heels. "Was that not the notorious Miss. Elizabeth Bennett? Whatever happened to her?" he decided a slight change of subject might be more welcome to discussion by his cousin, and he was correct.

Darcy explained the entire morning he had had, of course leaving out the reason he had fled the house so early in the first place. "She knows not how she came to be in Derbyshire, but as far as either of us are aware, she departed Hunsford but two days ago." He explained to his cousin. He was on his way into his office Richard could tell. Darcy was to write to the Bennett family (as much as he loved Elizabeth, Darcy was loath to start a correspondence with any of them) and explain their daughters situation and that she was in good hands and could stay as long as necessary.

Richard followed him to the door. "Well, it is a good thing that you were able to come to her aid then cousin, otherwise who knows who or what could have found her. I only wish I knew the cause of such an occurrence, and where the driver, horses, and possible other occupants are."

Darcy agreed. "Yes, I have alerted the authorities in both Derbyshire and Nottinghamshire, as the disturbance happened on the border of both. As of this instant however, it is our duty to see to it that Miss. Elizabeth recovers well, and then we will see to investigating."

Richard nodded his agreement, and then added cheekily, "Yes, I am sure you would like to put all of your attention and energy into your fair sleeping beauty primarily of course."
Darcy blushed a little once more, but the colonel just laughed merrily, and walked down the hall, calling something about Georgiana and how she should come and stay to keep Elizabeth some sisterly company. The word 'sisterly' was not lost on Darcy, and he was not sure if he was more amused or annoyed by his cousin's cunning perception and ability to find humor in all situations.

Chapter 3: Dinner for Two

Darcy slammed his glass onto his writing desk of his office, and stood up in fury. It was late afternoon of the same day he found his dear Elizabeth. He had watched her fall asleep in his arms mere hours ago, and no maids have yet alerted him of her rousing. The inactivity was shifting his focus from assisting her, to trying to discern how she had come into such a situation at all.

If she had departed Kent with the other half of her party, Miss. Maria Lucas, where was she, and was she in any immediate danger? It was possible that Miss. Lucas was left at her home as the carriage carrying Elizabeth home had undoubtedly made its way through Hertfordshire to make its way north. He inwardly cursed himself for not asking after Miss. Lucas in his letter to Mr. Bennett, now surely halfway to Longbourne.

His anger had started to build when he began to dwell on the fact that one of these two things happened: Either the carriage had overturned by pure accident, but then, where was the driver? He must have deserted Elizabeth on the side of the road, or the carriage accident was premeditated and whoever caused it took the driver hostage. But why leave Elizabeth behind? Had they believed her dead?

Trying to calm himself, he sat once more at his desk and began writing a letter to his sister, which was usually one of the activities that gave him joy.

My dearest Georgiana,

Fitzwilliam

He sealed the letter shut, and left his study in search of his cousin. He walked in a more brisk pace then necessary, and despite his utter lack of sleep, he found himself craving physical exertion.

Knowing his cousin all too well, he found him in his favorite chair besides the fire in the library. Richard looked up and closed his book. "Ah, not standing in the hall with an ear pressed to her door, eh Darcy?" he asked teasingly.

Darcy was still not going to let his feeling on to his cousin anymore then he mistakenly had. Although it did please him to realize that Richard did not disapprove of the match, or he would not be joking so lightly about it.

Ignoring his comment, he handed the letter to his cousin. "Would you be so kind to deliver this in person to Georgiana?" he inquired as Richard took the letter.

"Ah, dear Georgie, I have not seen her since Christmas. Am I to bring her to Pemberly to meet the charming Miss. Elizabeth?" Darcy merely nodded in reply, peeved at his cousins knowing teasing. The Colonel laughed merrily, and stood to stretch his arms. "I will leave immediately then cousin. Please do try not to make your feelings too obvious, or else you will create the biggest scandal this household has seen since Mr. Darcy senior wanted to marry the sister of, and associate the family with the ruthless Lady Catherine."

Darcy chuckled a little, reminding his cousin that he was of Darcy's mother's side of the family, therefore Lady Catherine was his blood relative.

"Yes well, I like to pretend other wise."

Darcy was curious as to how his cousin had discovered his disposition concerning Elizabeth, but as he handed Georgiana's letter to him, he simply said, "Thank you Richard." His cousin seemed to understand the double meaning in his words, and once he quitted the room, his presence was replaced by one of the numerous maids.

Her name was Sophie, and she was the newest hire of Pemberly. Darcy made a point to know all of his help by name, and he greeted her as such.

"Mr. Darcy." She curtsied, and he nodded his head in returned greeting. It was uncommon for one to be so courteous with their servants, but despite appearances outside his home, he was never one to be rude if a person was undeserving. He strived to remain civil and obliging, making him an uncommonly kind Master. "Mr. Darcy, Miss. Bennett has awaken."

"Thank you Sophie," Darcy said, moving out of the library immediately. The maid curtsied once more, but he did not notice.

Elizabeth had awoke to an unfamiliar yet exceedingly comfortable bed. She took in her surroundings and was absolutely positive she was in the most elegant and lavish room seen in her life. It exceeded even that of Rosings,

She had a dull head ache and she felt extremely tired. She wasn't aware of her overwhelming thirst until she turned to see the pitcher of water and empty glass next to it. She was shocked to find just how weak she felt, and very nearly spilled the water onto the beautiful rosewood table.

After successfully drinking three glasses, she thought back to all she could remember.
With a blush, she recalled Darcy's proposal, and her harsh rejection. His letter had followed, making her exceedingly ashamed of all she had accused him of. Although not entirely convinced he was completely innocent where Jane was concerned, she saw now the extreme pain she must have caused him in admitting his sister's weakness and near tragedy with George Wickham. He was not the man she had once thought he was, and his more recent actions only strengthen her new found conclusion.

In a mysterious phenomenon, her memory is blank after her last day with the Collins', and returned with Mr. Darcy's concerned face. It was all a blur to her, but she remembered opening her eyes to see him, a vague scene of disruption surrounding him.
Then she had managed to remain awake long enough to have a civil conversation with him in his carriage.

Elizabeth was not sure how she felt being rescued by the great and noble Mr. Darcy. How he could be so generous to her after she had insulted him to such a horrifying degree was astounding to her. Her pride would not allow her to feel anything more than gratitude, and once her recovery was over, she planed to move out quickly. She was all too aware that just a week or so ago he had proclaimed his love for her.

Lizzy saw a door to her left, and curious, she weakly got up to discover where it led to. The door didn't make a noise as she opened it, and she thought that it was evidence of his wealth that even the guest bedrooms have their own parlors. Her house at Longbourne had only one general parlour, and one dining room. She wasn't not jealous per say, but her thoughts took an ironic twist when she realized that at this moment it could have been possible for her to call this room her property in the near future. A life married to Mr. Darcy would not have left her wanting material items.

She glanced around the room, taking in it's furniture. There was a table with four elegant chairs, obviously meant for private dining. An ornate fire place sat nestled in the center of the opposite wall, in front of which was sofa that looked extremely comfortable to her.

"Miss?"

Lizzy jumped at the sound of the voice as she crossed the room. So lost was she in her thoughts, she had not heard or seen the maid enter.

"Sorry to frighten you Miss. Are you feeling well?" the young girl inquired. Lizzy replied that she was feeling as well as possible, which was a lie, but she hated showing weakness. In truth, her head was pounding, and she felt as if what little sustenance she had in her was threatening to make a grand reappearance. The maid wrung her hands nervously. She was obviously very young.

"My name is Sophie. Mr. Darcy assigned me to help you with whatever your needs may be. But I am also under orders to make sure that you rest. The doctor said it is prudent you do not over exert yourself."

Lizzie knew right away that her recovery wasn't going to be easy for her. Did they expect her to stay inside for two weeks? What utter nonsense. She had a hard time being confined to a house, let alone a single room.

"I was just going to admire the furniture." Lizzy explained. Her lightheadedness was starting to make the room spin, so she walked around to sit on the couch. Sophie curtsied and said that she was going to alert her Master that Elizabeth was awake. Before she could protest, the maid was gone, and Lizzy was left to sit in the silence with just her thoughts for company.

Two weeks confined in a house? With Mr. Darcy?

Lizzy groaned out loud, already anticipating the awkwardness that was sure to occur.

"Miss. Elizabeth?" he called through the door. A few seconds later, the door was opened to reveal a stunning young woman with her dark tresses falling over her shoulders. She greeted him properly, and he noticed with a pang of guilt that she was still in her dirty blood stained clothes from when he had found her. She seemed to realize this at the same time, for she blushed and looked away.

Before he could stop himself, he said, "Forgive me for my lapse in judgement. I should have realized you would need a change of clothing. You are about the same size of my sister, Georgiana, and I can arrange for the things you need…" He trailed off when he realized that he had spoken too boldly. He was silent for a moment, looking for the words to say, for she offered none.

Another idea came to him that she must be starving. On that matter, he had not eaten anything all day as well, and it was nearing dinner.

"Miss. Elizabeth, you are supposed to be resting," he said gently, trying to mentally work up the courage to ask to dine with her. He saw a flicker of annoyance in her eyes, and her realized that the thought of having to recover was not appealing to her. He had to hold back an adoring smile. There was no need to make her feel anymore uncomfortable than she already was. "Doctors orders. I am merely the diligent enforcer." Darcy said.

"If you do not mind Miss. Elizabeth, I have ordered dinner for the both of us to be brought to your parlor. Neither of us have eaten all day, and you are not to over-exert yourself." He didn't mention that he had unthinkingly emptied the house, so they were the only ones currently resided in it, except for the staff.

There was a pause where she seemed to struggle for an answer. He knew that she did not desire to be alone with him, and he didn't want to seem like she had to say yes to be polite.

"If you are too tired to entertain, I will certainly understand." He told her gently, inwardly chiding himself for allowing too much of his affection for her leak into his voice.

She surprised them both, however, when she said, "It is no trouble at all Mr. Darcy."
"Excellent. I will be back in but an hour." He said, bowing and turning to leave. There was an extended period of time before he heard her door shut. He wondered if she had been watching him. The thought alone made his heart flip, but he quickly put it in check.

She watched his retreating figure for a moment in shock. She quickly shook herself mentally and shut the door with a soft click. Her whole body was beginning to shake, and she knew that she needed to sit down before she fainted and only added to the problems gripping this fine estate.

What compelled her to accept his offer when she could hardly stand the thought of being alone with him? And how foolish he must think her! Somehow she had managed to avoid going home to Hertfordshire, and ended up mere miles from Pemberly! And she didn't even remember how.

His hospitality was not necessary, but greatly appreciated. Lizzy knew she should try to tell him how grateful she was, but after last week…. She was too prideful to admit that she had been in the wrong, and had grossly miscalculated his character--a talent she had always taken pride in. Now here he was, showing her how wrong she had been, and she hated him for it. It was not his fault he was entirely kind and generous to her, but if he were otherwise the whole situation would be much easier for Lizzy.

She tipped her head back against the couch and closed her eyes with a complaining moan. Why her?

"Miss. Bennett." Lizzy looked up to see that Sophie had returned. The maid curtsied and said "Miss, we've drawn a bath for you if you are willing. And Mr. Darcy has instructed us to dress you in one of Miss. Georgiana's gowns. I am also to convey to you that sudden business with the authorities will delay him in joining you for dinner, so you can take as long as you like."

Standing up slowly, Elizabeth thanked the girl and followed her into the bathing room. A warm bath was greatly anticipated, but the whole time her mind was on the authorities Mr. Darcy was currently meeting with. Did they bring news of what had happened to her?

She was broken out of her troubled thoughts when she gazed upon the dress she was currently being helped into. It was exquisite. Perhaps a little outdated, but by no more than a year. Still, it was more elegant and expensive than anything she had ever worn.
It was perhaps a little tight, and the dress wasn't quite long enough, but she did not care much. Mr. Darcy had obviously seen her in much worse conditions.

Her face started to color when she thought about how he had found her, and hoped she hadn't looked too indecent.

Once she was in the dress, she didn't know what to do with herself. She looked in the mirror and attempted to arrange her hair to hide the large, stitched up gash on her forehead, but everything she came up with looked ridiculous, so she gave up when even her vision had started to blur with fatigue. She pulled out all the pins in her hair, letting it fall in waves to her mid back. It was improper, but she was beyond caring as she made her way out to the quaint little sofa once more.

Elizabeth's family, and anyone who knew her at all actually, had always called her stubborn. Even now this quality was showing as she struggled to ignore and fight the feelings she had due to her accident. Her headache was prevalent as ever, she felt dizzy constantly, and she was scared that if she closed her eyes at all, she would fall into a deep sleep, in danger of not waking up for a very very long time.

Another sensation had joined about half an hour ago. She was overwhelmingly hungry, which was the only thing that actually kept her awake.

Just as she was starting to have impatient thoughts for food to show up, a knock happened upon her door, and, knowing who it was but choosing not to stand and get the door herself, she merely called out that he may enter.

Darcy opened the door to the parlor of Elizabeth's room to see her in a dress he remembered Georgiana wearing for Easter last year.

How arrogant he had been when he had critically analyzed her looks last fall. Her face was not symmetric, but he had come to see that symmetry was not what determined beauty in a women. Her eyes were bright with mirth and humor whenever he saw her, and her complexion was flawless. When she looked at him he had to suppress an urge to cross the room and kiss her. His nightly dreams had given him numerous ideas that at times he was ashamed of.

"Miss Elizabeth." He bowed before crossing the room to where she sat on the couch. From behind him some of the kitchen staff moved to quickly prepare their dinner arrangements. He blatantly ignored them as he observed her. "How are you feeling?"

"I am sure I will feel much better once I have eaten Mr. Darcy." She said standing up and attempting bravely to help herself to the other side of the room, but Darcy was not fooled. He offered her his arm, and without either of them saying a word, he escorted her to the table, where their food was ready. It would not be a multiple course meal, the setting too intimate to provide that, but he did not mind much.

Once sitting, she looked up at him. "What have the authorities said Mr. Darcy?" he wished that he would not seem too forward if he asked her to call him William, as his friends did. But he feared her reaction, so held back that request, and answered her question instead.

"Well, the good news is that it seems that you had no companions, which relieved me greatly. Besides the driver of your coach, no one else seems to be missing. I had at first feared for your previous traveling companion, Miss. Maria Lucas, but it is evident that she was not there." He took a few bites of his dinner while he watched her from his peripheral vision. She appeared to be relieved.

"Any indication as to why I was so far north?" She asked after a time, and he answered back that there was not, but that he had alerted her parents, who would hopefully shed light onto the event in their return letter.

"I wish to thank you Mr. Darcy." She said, looking anywhere but at him. "I fear who would have happened upon me had you not." As hard as the words seemed to be for her to say, they sounded sincere.

He looked up from his food to observe her. "I was merely at the right place at the right time."

"But so early in the morning?" She asked. He sighed. Elizabeth's cunning mind missed nothing, and she must have realized the timing to be incredibly early.

But to tell her why he was out riding his horse at such an ungodly hour… "I'm afraid my explanation would make you uncomfortable Miss. Elizabeth."

She seemed dissatisfied with his answer, but looked at him with one of those smiles that alerted him that she had something mischievous on her mind. When she failed to enlighten him with her thoughts, he grew curious. "What have I done to amuse you so Miss. Elizabeth?" He asked her.

She seemed to suddenly realize she was smiling, and immediately stopped. "You will not convey your reasons to me, Mr. Darcy, so it is only fair that you also get no insight to my thoughts."

"Well reasoned, though one could argue that my reasons would cause you discomfort so you would not want to hear it. However, I am extremely curious to know what created that playful smile you so often harbor. Tell me, have I dribbled food all down my front?"

He looked down at his shirt in jest, all-the-while disbelieving of how he was acting to juvenilely towards her. He was being silly and carefree, something that was unheard of to him since his fathers passing when he took on the responsibility as Master of Pemberly.
His horror at his behavior was quickly replaced with pride that he had managed to incite a smile to appear on her face.

"I can assure you that your eating habits are as immaculate as always Mr. Darcy." She took a bite of her food and looked out the window at the setting sun. The sunset was always a beautiful sight at Pemberly, especially from this particular window. It overlooked a small pond that reflected the sun's brilliant hues.

"Is it something else then?" he asked, and leaned forward over the table slightly. "Come now Miss. Elizabeth, you can't have me looking like an imbecile."

"Insecure are we Mr. Darcy?" She asked, taking a bite of her food with a teasing look on her face. Mr. Darcy was very hard pressed not to try anything untoward.

He leaned back in his chair in an effort to distance himself from the seductress. It was not her fault, she was naturally like this; it was in her nature. Somehow she was seductive while following all the rules of society, and it left him at a loss.

He was seated, his posture perfect as always, but he had no idea how to answer her question, so he merely said, "Perhaps. Colonel Fitzwilliam is often teasing me for my disposition of being unsociable. He claims I am merely shy, and maybe I am insecure as an indirect result." He was not sure if this was true, but Elizabeth took it for an actual answer, though it had the opposite effect on her than he had been aiming for.

She frowned slightly and looked away from him again. He so desperately wanted to know what she was thinking.

Elizabeth attempted to eat more, but at that moment, the sunlight reflected off of the small pond in such away that it shined right into her eyes, and with a gasp of pain she
closed her eyes and buried her head in her hands.

Immediately, Darcy stood and shut the curtains to the window, hiding the offensive light and beautiful view. He was not too discouraged however, since he had the better vision sitting before him.

"Are you alright Miss. Elizabeth?"

She groaned quietly once more, and looked up at him with chagrin coloring her cheeks.

"Yes, thank you Mr. Darcy. I am still nursing a violent headache unfortunately…." Her words trailed off, and he knew that there was more than that bothering her.

"I am sorry for keeping you so long. If you are done with your dinner, I suggest you rest some more." His playful demeanor was gone all of the sudden, and he was back to the rigid formality he had been raised to carry out. This rapid change caught him off guard, and he wondered why he suddenly felt uncomfortable. Their civil, yet playful, conversation had been everything he had hoped this dinner would induce.

She readily agreed, and when she stood she swayed momentarily. Alarmed, Mr. Darcy grabbed her arm to make sure she did not fall.

"Thank you." She murmured, closing her eyes and raising her hand to cradle her head. Then she became aware of her actions and dropped her hand quickly.

"I'll assist you to your chambers." He said quietly. She didn't protest, since she seemed to acknowledge that she did not have the remaining energy to move unassisted. But she still held her head up high and tried to maintain what dignity she had left. He wanted to laugh at her antics, but he didn't. The last thing he needed was for her to think even worse of him than she already did.

He helped her cross the room to the bed, which had newly cleaned sheets. He noticed that there was a sleeping gown laid out for her, and he cleared his throat, trying not to think of her changing.

"I'll leave you now. If you need anything, call for Sophie. Good evening Miss. Elizabeth." He bowed and made to leave the room, but she stopped him.

"Mr. Darcy," she called, just before he reached the door. He turned to look at her, and she was blushing once more.

"Thank you." She said, thanking him once more.

He couldn't help it this time. He smiled brilliantly at her. "There is no need to thank me Miss. Lizzy," he told her gently, and he bowed once more and left the room.

Chapter 4: The Third Floor

'Lizzy' He had called her. The woman in question sighed and laid back onto her bed, trying her hardest not to dwell on the way he had looked at her tonight. Of course she knew what his feelings were for her now…. But he had been good at hiding them until his proposal. Now it seemed as though the dam had cracked, and from behind his façade he let something slip now and then that made her squirm uncomfortably.

Uncomfortable was probably more accurate to how she felt she dealt with it. When he smiled at her it was like he didn't care about anything or anyone but her. Her stomach clenched and her heart beat faster. Did she like his attentions? She couldn't tell. She was definitely flattered to say the least. She isn't narrow minded enough to refuse to acknowledge that what he had claimed was true; that he liked her against the expectations of society and his family. It was a great honor.

He was not the man she had always thought him to be. His arrogance was merely him being shy and aloof. He had not been cruel towards George Wickham, and it was in fact the other way around. As much as she mourned the pain her sister had to suffer, Mr. Darcy had believed he was helping his friend, showing loyalty which is certainly a good quality.

Elizabeth's head was full of questions that she wanted answered, and she longed to speak with Jane. Opening her eyes, she espied a writing desk.

She was exhausted, to be sure. But she wanted one last thing before she fell asleep, so she slowly made her way across the room and was pleased to find the supplies she would need to write her letter in the first drawer. She sat and began to write.

My Dearest Jane,

All my love,
Elizabeth.

Darcy had not been able to fall asleep the night before, and once he had finally succumbed to slumber well past midnight, it was, as usual, filled with dreams of Elizabeth.

He slept deeply, and woke rather late in the morning after a dream where he had stolen down the hall in the dead of night and into the room Elizabeth was sleeping in. All that transpired after was not something you did until after you were wed to a woman, and as enticing as the idea was to him at the moment, he was appalled with himself. Being sufficiently aroused from his dream, he had to wait a while before calling on his steward, Mr. Greene, to dress.

He was embarrassed by his fantasies, yes. But he could not deny that with every passing moment his attraction to Elizabeth grew stronger, and having her in his home was not helping his problem. He wanted to out grow this phase until she were simply a pleasant memory. This wasn't because he was ashamed for his feelings for her, but rather he did not want to get his hope up that they could ever be married. She simply wouldn't have him.

He spoke not a word to Mr. Greene as he dressed, which was uncommon. He hoped his steward would not be offended, but he had so much on his mind that he was scared if he opened his mouth it would all come tumbling out and, like Richard had said, cause a scandal Pemberly hadn't seen in years.

However when he encountered Sophie on his way down to the breakfast parlor, he said, "How is Miss. Bennett?"

"She woke early this morning and had her breakfast sir. She is resting once more." The young girl of about eighteen explained. Darcy thanked her, but she was not finished. "She also wrote a letter to her sister that she asked to be sent express. Is okay with you sir?"

He knew she was enquiring after the extra cost, but it would do nothing to harm him financially. He waved a hand at her as if to say it was no trouble and said, "Miss. Bennett may have whatever she wants."

As he walked away from the curtsying girl, he thought vaguely how much he would be willing to give her, had she asked. He was falling deeper and deeper in love with her that he was sure that were she to ask for his most prized possessions he would hand them to her with a smile on his face.

While breakfasting, his butler came and announced the arrival of Mr. Alexander Smith, head of the local authorities.

Darcy stood and greeted the man like an old friend. The estate of Pemberly was unfortunately subjected to many thieves and poachers, so he had grown to know the man fairly well.

"What news Mr. Smith?" Darcy inquired, gesturing that the man should join him at the table.

"We found a stray horse just north of Matlock, still wearing its harnesses. We believe it is a runaway from the carriage, and we are looking for the other." The man informed Darcy.

He nodded. "Still no luck on the driver?"

"I'm afraid not. No one has reported a spouse or family member missing, which does not say much. The man could have been yet unmarried with little or no family remaining."

Darcy scratched his chin. "I'm still trying to discover whose carriage it was, but Miss. Bennett has no recollection of this incident, or very much prior to it. I wrote to her family, and hopefully they can shed some light on the dreadful event."

Mr. Smith stood up, putting his top hat onto his head. "When do you expect to hear from them?"

"Later today, perhaps, if they send their letter express." Mr. Darcy said, shaking the hand of his friend in farewell.

The day passed with little activity for Darcy. He spent most of his day in the library staring at a book but not reading it. It was not well into the afternoon, and no one had brought him news of Elizabeth waking. He hoped that her head injury was not more severe than anyone thought. She had seemed well enough last night…

He wondered vaguely if Richard and Georgiana had departed for Pemberly yet. As eager as he was for Elizabeth to meet his sister, he found that the thrill of being alone in his home with her was great. If they had left already, he could expect them the day after tomorrow, and oddly it didn't seem like enough time to win her back.

Win her back? Darcy you fool, you never had her. He thought bitterly to himself, standing and putting his unread book on the shelf where he had found it.

At that moment, Sophie came to alert him that Elizabeth had awaken about half an hour ago, and was requesting to walk in the gardens. Darcy chuckled to himself, anticipating her reaction when he had to decline her request. 'Give her anything she wants.' He had said. How hypocritical of him.

He was just passing the front door when there was a knock. Too curious to see who would be calling on him, he didn't wait for the butler to answer the door, but did so himself.

It was merely a letter carrier, who looked shocked to see Mr. Darcy answer the door, but was polite never-the-less.

The letter was addressed to Mr. Darcy of Pemberly, and he was rather confident that this was a reply letter from Mr. Bennett. Darcy thanked the letter carrier and made his way to the third floor with the letter. He scanned it once, but decided that he would read it to Elizabeth to see what she made of it.

He knocked on the door to her parlor, and said, "Miss. Elizabeth, I come baring a letter from your father."

The door opened mere seconds later, to reveal Elizabeth wearing another of Georgiana's gowns. She saw him admiring his dress, and she said, "I must thank you for allowing me to wear your sister's gowns Mr. Darcy. I appear to have traveled without my luggage."

He replied that it was not a problem at all, but he was thinking of what she had said. Surely when she traveled she brought extra clothing and necessities? Perhaps the carriage accident had been a robbery, and that was where her garments had gone. But it still made no sense that someone would kidnap the driver and not her.

"You said you had a letter from my father?" she inquired, stepping aside to let him into her room.

"Yes, it came only moments ago. He seems to be rather anxious for you."

"May I read it?" she asked rather boldly. It was his mail after all, but he decided to read it to her.

"Mr. Darcy," he began, moving to the sofa to sit, and overcome with curiosity, Elizabeth sat down beside him. He tried to ignore her close proximity as he read:

I cannot express my gratitude in your generosity towards my daughter. I am also thankful that you arrived in time to assure that no more serious danger became of her. My wife is, as usual, complaining about her poor nerves and also how our dear Lizzy had a fetish for instigating them.

At this point, Elizabeth blushed. The inappropriateness of the letter was evident, but Mr. Darcy found in it the wit and dry humor that made Mr. Bennett tolerable. He read on.

We are as dumbfounded as you are as to why she found herself in Derbyshire. She passed through here after her stay in Kent, but only to bring Miss. Maria Lucas back to her family. Miss. Lucas came to us baring a letter explaining that Lizzy was headed north to visit a friend. I was not too happy to know that she would be traveling unescorted, and here is the proof that it should not be done. Other than this information, we know nothing more than you.

Mr. Bennett.

There was a silence for a moment, and Elizabeth seemed to color even more. "I am sorry my father talks so out of line sometimes." She said, though it seemed to be a mistake that she had even said it at all.

"It is no problem. There is nothing wrong with a father being overcome with concern for a daughter." He assured her as he folded the letter. Then he thought back over the information. "What friends do you have that live north?" he inquired.

"I know of no one besides you." She admitted. Both were fully aware that she had just categorized him as a friend. "Nor do I know why I would be so impudent as to travel alone."

"And are you feeling well today Miss. Elizabeth?" he inquired.

"About the same as yesterday, though I am not as fatigued yet." She shrugged her shoulders and looked out the window with an obvious sense of longing in her expression.

"Ah yes," Darcy said. "I heard of your inquiry, and besides doctor's orders to stay rested, there are many other problems with your request." He told her simply. Personally, a walk in the garden with her sounded wonderful, but he didn't want to risk her health to fulfill his wants.

"And what are those?" she demanded.

"One being that you are sensitive to light," he reminded her of yesterday both in the carriage and during dinner. "Also you would probably not make it down and back up two flights of stairs, and I would have to resort to carrying you once more." Not that he minded in the slightest.

"These are all fair points you have made Mr. Darcy, and I find I cannot compete with you. Shall we have a compromise?"

"A compromise?" he asked, smiling a bit and arching one eyebrow.

"Could I have a tour of your lovely third floor? I find that if I am contained in this one particular room any longer I shall go mad." She proclaimed.

"You've been here barely a day." He said teasingly, though understanding completely. He would feel the exact same way if their roles were switched.

She stood and made her way to the door. "I know. I cannot believe you have managed to keep me contained for so long."

Darcy crossed the room and opened the door, and he registered her triumphant smile. She should realize by now that he was too far gone to deny her something like touring his home.

Does she realize all this could have been hers, or does she not remember the proposal itself? She gave no indication which it was, so he decided that he would go along with what she did. "The third floor consists only of rooms for family Miss. Bennett, therefore it will be very repetitive, and I fear you will be bored within minutes." He said.

Her eyes got wide as they ventured into the hall that was quite long and made a right hand turn at one end towards more bedrooms and a balcony. At the other end were the more frequently used rooms such as lodgings for Colonel Fitzwilliam, Georgiana, and himself.

"These are all merely rooms for the family?" She inquired.

He nodded. "There is the Master and Mistress suite where I currently take residence. It is the biggest suite on the floor, consisting of separate bedrooms for husband and wife. The latter of which has not been resided in since my mother passed away." He informed her. He steered her right instead of left towards his room. "Colonel Fitzwilliam has his own chambers here, as do Lady Catherine and Miss. Anne, though they do not stay here as frequently as Richard. Georgiana has the second largest dwelling in the house. They were my old rooms before I took up residence in my fathers."

"Five rooms all on this floor?" she asked, looking around.

He cleared his throat, feeling slightly embarrassed for some reason. "Nine, actually. A nursery and three children's rooms."

Elizabeth was silent for a moment. "Whose chamber's and I occupying?" she asked in a way that confused him, but he answered that they were Georgiana's old chambers from when she was younger.

The first door they came to was the blue room. It was still decorated exactly as his mother had when she first arrived at Pemberly and bore her first son. She had exquisite taste, and even today the room was stylishly furnished, even having been so thirty years prior. Darcy smiled at the room, many memories of his childhood having been here.

He went on to show her the nursery and second children's room. At the end of that hallway were glass double doors that led to a balcony that overlooked much of the expansive Pemberly estate. The house itself sat atop a hill, so you could see for miles all around.

"Your gardens look lovely," Elizabeth said wistfully.

"Perhaps next week," he told her while laughing once more at her appalled expression.

He led her back towards her room, and while doing so, he explained a little about each painting and occasional sculpture. His grandmother had been an artist herself, and had quite a collection started at Pemberly.

He watched her carefully as he did so, waiting for signs of fatigue or weakness. She seemed to be short of breath frequently, but did well never the less.

"Whose room is that?" She asked once they got back to her door, pointing at one quite a ways down the hall and on the other side.

"Mine," He said simply. She looked up at him in shock, then looked back down the hall.

"If you wish to see more you may, as long as you feel well enough." He told her, offering his arm for support.

She seemed to take it gratefully, and he wondered if she had been hiding her symptoms a little better than he thought.

Next he showed her Richards and Georgiana's rooms. They each had their own style and a certain air of being lived in. Darcy explained to Elizabeth that Richard preferred to stay at Pemberly while at leave from the army, rather than at his parents home in Matlock.

"Why?" She asked him, looking around his room. There were many items of a personal nature out, so she started to retreat from the room, feeling as if she were invading his privacy.

Darcy shrugged. "His parents are forever trying to convince him to marry, while he has no desire to do so. We are both bachelors in life and so it makes living with each other fairly pleasant."

Elizabeth smiled, but it dropped a little when they came to the last door. Her eyes burned with curiosity, and it made him think that maybe she did remember his proposal. Perhaps she was curious to see where he future could have taken her.

"Are you feeling up to this last adventure?" He asked her with a warm smile, telling her that he did not mind so much for her to be in his chambers.

He dared not think down such a dangerous road as to what traditionally happens when a woman is first introduced to a man's bed chambers. He ignored his traitorous thoughts, and opened the door to reveal his sitting room.

The library being too far away to venture in the dead of night when he found he needed the assistance of a book to read, he had brought some of the library to his room. Here there were two book cases of all his favorite classics, along with two arm chairs that had belonged to his mother and father.

He had in fact left the room mostly as they had, with minor changes to it. The walls were of a deep forest green, which was tribute to the Darcy men and their lust for the outdoors. Besides the chairs and book cases, there was a fire place, a table setting similar to the one in Elizabeth's room, and a writing desk where Darcy wrote some of his letters.

"I haven't changed much since my parents passed on." He confessed to her. "I find that keeping up with the latest trends to be tedious and too much work. Not to mention refurnishing every other year can begin to be expensive."

Elizabeth smiled at his confession. "But you appear to be a man of fashion Mr. Darcy. Not even Caroline Bingley has much to say in the way of insults." Her eyes shined with mirth, and she looked at him awaiting his reply.

"Caroline Bingley is one of the many examples why I have not married yet," He said dryly, crossing the room to a door he never used. "This was my mother's room," he told her.

His parents were one of those rare cases however, where they did not follow the many rules of society and inhabit separate bed chambers. They were so much in love that her bed was used only when sick or delivering a child. Unfortunately, her last year of life had seen much more use of her room than it was accustomed to.

She glanced about the room, then retreated once more to his sitting room. He made no move towards his own chambers, and she did not ask about them. He was personally afraid of where his thoughts would take him, and subsequently his actions if she were in there with him. So instead he led her back out to the hall way.

Already she was moving slower, so he assisted her into her parlor. "Would you like anything Miss. Elizabeth?" He asked her.

"No, I thank you Mr. Darcy. Your home is very lovely." She told him while they stood in the door way.

He desperately wished that someday he could have heard her say 'our room,' but alas, it could not be. "I thank you Miss. Elizabeth. I take great pride in my home, for it represents my ancestors' hard work."

She smiled in reply, and knowing that to stay any longer would be imposing and suspicious, he bid her goodbye, but not without one last request. "Shall we have dinner together once more tonight?" he asked her, hoping she would say yes.

"Since I have no desire of dining alone, I guess I will have to make due with you Mr. Darcy," She said teasingly. How odd it was for him to be teased. He assumed he appeared too intimidating to be teased by anyone, yet here she was, not afraid of even him and all the wealth and power that came with his name. He respected her for that.

"Until tonight then Miss. Elizabeth." He bowed and left her alone once more.

Chapter 5: Elisha and a Slip of the Tongue

Posted on 2010-04-17

"Why is he so altered? From what can it proceed? It cannot be for me– it cannot be for my sake that his manners are thus softened. My reproofs at Hunsford could not work such a change as this. It is impossible that he should still love me."
~Elizabeth Bennett, Pride & Prejudice

37 ½ hours earlier….

The sun had barely started to touch the tops of the trees when a man of about seven and twenty stumbled out of the trees due to a tree root that had connected with his foot in a rather unfortunate way.

It was evident by the dress of the man that he was poor. His clothes had been reduced to mere rags that closely resembled a dusting device used for cleaning. You would never guess from the looks of this man that he had come from money… and quite a lot of it. It had been fate that dealt him the unfortunate card of being the fourth and youngest son in his family, therefore he inherited nothing. This left him in such a position that many young men like him had to deal with; he had to find an heiress to marry.

His situation was not quite so different from that of Colonel Fitzwilliam. Both young men had sought out the army and war as a way to live and earn honest money. What was not the same of these two, was that the former had found love while the army was stationed in France.

Her name had been Mary, and she was the poor daughter of a farmer who could barely afford the food on their table. Barely a month after their first sighting, the man had written home to inform his parents that he was to bring the woman home on his first available vacation to marry her into the family. It is needless to say that his family had been outraged. But their worry and anger were not important to the young couple in love.
Then one night she had received the unfortunate news that he father had betrothed her at birth to a first born cousin on her deceased mother's slightly wealthier family. They fought it, and had actually begun to pack to elope when she became violently sick with the flu. To these star-crossed lovers, the forces seemed to be out to ensure they were never together, and he held her hand during her dying breath.

Crushed and heart broken, the man had seriously considered suicide, but then decided on faking his own death. He staged a struggle close to where the army was stationed where it was sure to be found, then he stole into the trees at the dead of night, never to be seen again by any who had known him.

Those he did interact with had often considered him mad, and he had actually been nearly forced to inhabit bedlam hospital. But about a year ago he was approached by someone who was in need of someone who would not mind handling some rather delicate jobs that the viler and deceiving people of the upper class wanted carried out. In need of money to live, the young man accepted.

It was this crazed heartbroken man that had stumbled across a road in the early hours of the morning to the overturned carriage where he had left the unconscious young woman to deal with the driver. He was only one man; therefore he had to work the job in small increments. The driver had struggled to defend the young woman, but three years in the army, and another two defending himself in the wild and on the streets, he was much stronger and had managed to drag the driver into the point far in the woods he had established for his captives. He had threw the man onto the ground, bound and gagged him, and made his way back to the girl. Now as he approached his more important target, he was overcome with that rush of anticipation he got when he was close to successfully completing a job.

When he crawled into the overturned carriage only to find it devoid of anyone, he paled with anger and fright. He quickly crawled out to search the premises. He spotted the hoof marks from a horse that had not been there previously, and even the prints from high end boots. He made a sound of pure anger, knowing that some gallant man had come and encountered the damsel in distress. He assisted her probably to the nearest physician, as her head wound and various other cuts and scrapes had probably resulted in massive blood loss.

Just in case, he searched the nearest trees incase she had carried herself off. If that was the case, she would not have gotten far. But he knew by instinct that she was long gone by now. He had taken too long in the woods with the driver, and probably should have just killed the driver and dealt with the woman first.

He recognized his blunder, and frightfully wondered if it would cost him his job.

Present

"Your cook is very talented Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth said over dinner that night. She had taken a well needed nap after her tour of the third floor of Pemberly, and was now eating dinner with Mr. Darcy once more. It was not as uncomfortable as it had been the night before. Oddly it had taken no time at all for them to become acclimated to each others presence, and that quite frankly frightened her. But being just as stubborn as she always was, she chose to ignore the feeling and just enjoyed his company for the moment.

Mr. Darcy nodded and once he finished chewing his food he told her that she was one of the best in Derbyshire.

They talked pleasantly for a little while longer, somehow getting onto the subject of horses.

"Pemberly is currently home to ten full grown horses, and four fouls," he told her, always excited to talk of one of his favorite topics. "We breed and sell them. We're actually at an all time low, but since I am rarely home anymore there is less need for as many horses."

"What takes you away from such a beautiful home so often Mr. Darcy?" she inquired politely.

He thought for a moment, then answered honestly. "I guess it is painful to be home for such extended periods of time. Although my father passed on some six years ago, and my mother three years before him, this home reminds me of what they had in life, and what I have been unable to accomplish." She did not miss his allusion to marriage, but once again chose to ignore it.

"Surely Georgiana loves to be home though. I cannot imagine any young woman unable to resist such splendor and beauty. Your gardens should be temptation enough."

He nodded an affirmation. "Yes, she has expressed many times a wish to be home. I actually took the liberty of your stay here to have her join us. Colonel Fitzwilliam will be escorting her here and she should be here the day after tomorrow. Richard will stay for a few more days, but then he will have to rejoin the army." Darcy explained to her, taking the last bite of his dinner, and leaning back in his chair.

Elizabeth's fork froze in mid air between her plate and her mouth however, and her eyes became slightly larger. "I am to meet Miss. Darcy?" she questioned.

Darcy nodded. "If that is to your liking," He said, with a small, unknowing frown on his face. Did she not want to meet his sister?

The truth of the matter was completely opposite however. She very much desired to meet Georgiana, who had often been boasted of great beauty and a woman of charm and great accomplishment; but to think that someone nearly five years younger than her was much more accomplished and intelligent than she was slightly intimidating.

However, she was never one two be seriously affected by the superiority of wealthier people, for she always found some fault in them she could laugh at and congratulate herself on not being so petty, or selfish, or greedy…

"I would like very much to meet Miss. Darcy," she told him smiling, already recovered from her moment of hesitation. Usually she would have handled such news flawlessly, only to dwell on it in the moments just before sleep. However she still suffered from her head injury and she was sure that altered her thinking somewhat.

Darcy smiled and asked her how she was feeling, as if he knew where her thoughts had been at that moment.

"I fear Mr. Darcy that I still suffer the occasional headache or dizzy spell." She explained, and then a humorous thought escaped her before she knew what it is she was saying. "I fear I am becoming more and more like my mother each day, and pray it will only be temporary."

She could tell he was not sure if he should laugh or not, and though she was embarrassed she had said such a comment at all, she meant it.

"Come now Mr. Darcy," she said playfully, smiling at him from across the table. "It is well known that my mother is very silly person indeed, though she means well. I am aware that I should not have said such a thing against my own mother. Forgive me, occasionally my mouth gets ahead of my mind."

Darcy smiled at her apology. "There is no need to apologize Miss. Bennett. You are at liberty to say anything you desire about your mother. I however, have not the pleasure of calling her mother, so I cannot laugh at her expense."

Too late he realized what his words had implied. Though the actuality of having the notorious Mrs. Bennett as a mother would be appalling in and of itself, it would mean that he was married to Elizabeth, a fact that did not seem to escaper her, judging by her expression.

Darcy took a quick sip of his wine, cleared his throat and said, "It appears that we have both run away with our words tonight, Miss. Elizabeth." She glanced away from his stare and looked about the room, trying to come up with something to say in return.

In a noble effort to pretend as though she had not heard the meaning behind his words, Elizabeth merely laughed her intoxicating laugh and stated that he was a very polite man indeed. "For you have much more honor than the women of your status, who laugh at the inferiorities of other people, while foolishly expose their own faults in the process."

Darcy thought immediately of Miss. Caroline Bingley, and was sure that she was as well. "Indeed, if we cannot act with any sort of dignity that status brings, we are no better than the common savage. If we do not respect our peers and people considered inferior by wealth and birth, then we cannot expect anything good in return."

"Well stated Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth exclaimed with a smile, thinking that she enjoyed sharing conversations with him about such things, and for once they were in agreement. The awkwardness of the previous moment caused by his mistake had been overcome thanks to her willingness to overlook his foolishness.

When she had approached him about the kind of jobs she needed done, at first he did not take her seriously. She was a woman after all. But she had done well in showing how powerful she was, especially towards someone with the kind of life style as himself.
Sometimes he would drink too much and forget his own name. His name was long and hard to remember anyway. Samuel Elisha James O'Connell Ackley. If you couldn't tell, his lineage was almost pure Irish. His father's family had lived in England, but his fathers mother, and his mother's entire family was Irish.

He generally just told people his name was Elisha O'Connell. He didn't want anyone associating him with his family who were too caught up in their own wealth to acknowledge true love for what it was worth.

When he left the army, he had left all thoughts of propriety behind, and what was right or what was wrong. If he needed to he could blend in with the best of them, and sometimes he caught himself talking in the intelligent way he had grown up. But Elisha had shunned that life, and now his new career was just further proof of how much he had changed.
When she had found Elisha, he was extremely intoxicated, and engaged in a game of whist with rather high stakes that he could not afford to lose, purely because he didn't have the money to pay.

She took one glance at him, and told him to meet her tomorrow at noon. Obviously he was in no state to make a deal with anyone, and it was a wonder he had even remembered her the day after.

She was rich, that was for sure. Her business was one she and her husband had started for a little extra money when they were starting to fall into debt, and it was obvious the new business had helped them immensely. She generally did the recruiting; he gave out the orders of who was to be 'handled' and how it was to be done. People came to them, and depending on how much they could pay, the more discreet they would be.

In the most recent job with the over turned carriage plan, it was a relatively low end job, so it was done hastily, and there was evidence of foul play, but nothing to give any indication towards who was at fault.

He didn't know who wanted Elizabeth Bennett dead, but it had taking quite a lot of cunning on his part to get her to Derbyshire. The plan was to make it obvious that it was Elizabeth Bennett who had been kidnapped and for all anyone knew, killed or made some sort of slave. But he had failed at his task, and whoever wanted the job done was going to be furious at his master, who will ultimately be angry with Elisha.

Elisha stared at the still alive carriage driver, trying to decide what he should do with him. It has been nearly two days since his failure, and he had not heard any news from his master as was planned. So what did he do with the driver?

Lizzy paced her room all that night, fighting the fog that threatened to take over her brain. It was really rather frustrating that she couldn't stay awake for more than a couple hours, but she was experiencing that phenomenon where you are too tired to fall asleep. It contradicts itself to be sure, but at this point she was grateful.

So desperately she wanted to apologize to Mr. Darcy for how she had acted in there argument over a week ago, but she was afraid he would renew his sentiments and wishes. Even more afraid of that, was how she would answer.

Her rejection had been based on all she had concluded about his personality through not just her observations but those of others as well. She prided herself on being able to escape the narrow minded assumptions of others, and that she was not affected by the same ailment, but she had proven herself wrong in this matter. Thinking back, he had been polite and even friendly with her at times. He had certainly given her more attention than other woman she had seen, and she enjoyed their small battles driven by words and wit.

Even just these past two days made him seem so much better in her eyes. Would she accept a renewed proposal from him? She had once told Jane she would only marry for true love. Was she in love with Mr. Darcy?

She didn't really want to think about it. It was very doubtful he would renew his sentiments, being a man of pride and dignity. Young women very rarely received proposals from the same man more than once.

Elizabeth decided that she would attempt to fall asleep and hope that the matter would resolve itself in the morning when her head was clearer. It was surprisingly easy for her to fall asleep on the comfortable bed with her head so full of chaotic thoughts. And for the first time, she dreamt of Mr. Darcy, and taking a walk in his beautiful gardens in Pemberly.

When she awoke, she distinctly recalled referring to the magnificent house as 'our home.'

Darcy was an early riser by habit, and this particular morning, on the third day of Elizabeth's stay, he was up just as the sun started to rise. He was feeling the restlessness of being constricted to the indoors just as Elizabeth was, since he had confined himself to the house to ensure that all was well with her.

He trusted the servants to deal with any needs of hers that may arise, and so he stepped out of the house and walked through the dewy grass. The air was still chilly, since spring had only just started to arrive, but it was his favorite time of the year to take Agaue out for a ride.

The rush of cool air in his face helped to clear his mind, and his ride had been a lot longer than he had anticipated. He rode almost all the way around the Pemberly estate, taking his favorite routes through trees and over bridges. He even rode through the road of the small village in Pemberly for all its workers and their families. They were already up and beginning to work, even though the sun had barely risen.

He reflected on the previous two days during his ride, and there were many unusual things he saw in the whole situation. For one, who would want Elizabeth dead, and what were their motives? Even the thought of her being dead was painful to him, and the thought occurred to him that this could be an attack against Mr. Darcy indirectly, but who would know of his proposal and feelings besides Elizabeth and Colonel Fitzwilliam?

Darcy was a reasonable man, and to think that he had made someone so dead set on seeking revenge on him was unthinkable. Beside Wickham, who could hold such a grudge? Most men would challenge another to a duel anyway, so he quickly disregarded that this was an attack against himself. There was nothing to support the theory.

Also, why did Mr. Bennett not insist on coming to the aid of his most beloved daughter? It was obvious to Darcy that Elizabeth was by far his favorite of the bunch, and who could blame him? Not that Darcy was particularly complaining. If her father did come, it would leave him without so much as a hope of a chance to earn her affections. It was odd that he did not come, but it was also evident that he was not behind the attack to Elizabeth. Darcy proclaimed it an absolutely absurd thought the moment entered his mind.

Finally, how was Elizabeth convinced to come out here alone, unescorted? The only reason he could think of that she would do such a think was perhaps for her sister, whom she obviously cared for above all people.

Darcy put the thoughts out of his head as he dismounted his horse at the stables. He was improperly attired, and he was thankful that the house was empty besides himself and Elizabeth, who was confined to her chambers.

Quickly he strode towards his home and all the way through to the third floor. He was just passing her room when he heard the door click open.

The words in Elizabeth's dream had disturbed her. She felt restless and confined. All she wanted was to stretch her legs for a bit on the third floor. She knew she was probably breaking some sort of rule, but Darcy was most likely not awake, so she thought she would risk it to work off some of her energy, and try to ignore her thoughts which kept turning towards her dream

So it was with great shock that she opened her door to reveal Mr. Darcy, with his shirt unbuttoned to reveal the very top of his chest, and his riding boots covered in mud. Her eyes lingered too long, and she felt her face start to warm. But other than that, she let her face show no emotion than calmness, the exact opposite than what she felt inside.

"Mr. Darcy," She said, curtsying, and making herself keep her gaze on his face. "Good morning."

He steadily returned her gaze, but she could tell he felt slightly uncomfortable. Lizzy, always fond of toying with people, decided that this conversation should be much longer than necessary.

"Good morning Miss. Bennett." He said, bowing properly. When he looked at her once more, her mind returned to their walk in the Pemberly gardens in her dream, and she vaguely wondered what it meant. Someone had once told her that dreams were your mind trying to tell you things that you didn't want to think about or refused to believe.

Lizzy pushed the thoughts out of her mind and smiled at Mr. Darcy. "What brings you out to the grounds so early in the morning Mr. Darcy?" she inquired.

"I find that recently I am a very early riser, so I decided to give my horse a work out. I find it helpful to one whose mind is full and cant sort through it all." He explained, and his body language showed that he was desperately looking for a polite way of dismissing himself.

Lizzy agreed with him. "Though I do not ride horses, I love taking walks in the morning when the grass is still dewy and the sun barely risen."
"Is that what you are doing now Miss. Elizabeth?" he asked with a knowing smile. They both knew that she was not to be physically exerting herself, and while he had made a small exception yesterday, she shouldn't walk unattended.

Lizzy laughed a little. "You have caught me Mr. Darcy, though I had not planned on venturing past the now familiar third floor."
"How are you feeling today Miss. Elizabeth?" he inquired.

"Much better, I thank you for your concern Mr. Darcy," she said, confused at the abrupt change of conversation.

"If you will allow me to retire to my chambers momentarily, I can come back and escort you downstairs where you may tour the second floor, if that is pleasing to you." He gave her a knowing smile. She was as restless as he could get, so she would undoubtedly accept his invitation. She did no disappoint.

"That sounds delightful Mr. Darcy. I shall wait for you here."

Each time Elisha had seen his Master, he had the strange feeling that there was more to the man than met the eye. Whoever he was, he was a powerful man you did not want to meet with. There was something about this particular case that had the master edgy, and that was why Elisha feared his career, and potentially his life.

This time was no different from the others. They met in a discrete place where they were not going to be overheard or seen. The master kept his face patiently expressionless, at least until Elisha had given him the news about the girl.

"You failed?" He whispered softly in a deadly hiss that made the hair on the back of Elisha's neck stand up.

Elisha looked away, and tried to think of an explanation. But it was too late. He was not useless to the Master, who needed only the best serving him.

Elisha never even saw the glint of silver before he felt the dagger.

Chapter 6: The Library

Posted on 2010-04-21

Friendship is certainly the finest balm for the pangs of disappointed love.
~Jane Austen

"Miss. Elizabeth!" Darcy cried, while trying too hard not to laugh at the absurdity of such a situation. His legs were carrying him at a brisk pace down the corridor. 'Find me if you can Mr. Darcy," she had said, and then ran off down the nearest corridor before he had the time to react.

It was much like the childish game of hide and seek, though he could not see Elizabeth tucked away in some corner hiding her laughter behind a dainty hand. They had barely made it to the second floor when she had taken off, and if his hunch was correct, he knew just where to find her.

He proceeded to the end of the hallway, where the giant oak doors were slightly ajar, and he felt certain that she had not been able to stifle her curiosity at the sight of them.
Darcy peeked into the library to see her walking slowly away from the doors, taking in the sight of hundreds upon hundreds of books. She revolved in a small circle, but stopped suddenly when she caught him spying on her.

"Oh dear." She sighed in fake disappointment, but with a smile on her face. "It seems I have lost my touch and failed to find a proper place to hide."

Darcy joined her in the library, once again driven breathless by everything that was Elizabeth, and how she continually surprised him. "On the contrary," Darcy said, admiring her as she resumed her observations of the room. "I find myself lost in the library for hours on end. It could be a very good hiding place."

"How many books are in here?" She inquired, walking away from him. As she did so, she ran her fingers lightly along the spines of books that rested on a lower shelf. She looked mesmerized.

Darcy had to remind himself that she had asked him a question. He had lost himself in the sight of her, and only remembered to reply when she turned and looked at him questioningly. "I am not sure." He said truthfully. "They have been accumulating for generations upon generations."

"My father would give away much of his possessions to be in a library such as this." Elizabeth proclaimed, facing Mr. Darcy while he once more reflected on thoughts of his seemingly futile hopes of marriage between them. If she had said yes, perhaps her father would have beheld the Pemberley library.

"May I take a book for the duration of my stay, Mr. Darcy?" she inquired pleasantly, taking a book at random off of the shelves and examining it. It was written in French, so it did not surprise him that she put it away quickly.

"Certainly." He told her, and then he politely redirected her to the books printed in English.

They ended up spending the rest of the morning holed up in the library. Much to Elizabeth's chagrin, she regretted her early assurances that they could not have the same taste or thoughts towards books. Then she wanted nothing to do with Darcy, and having something in common with him was a terrible thought. Now she was enjoying herself in a way she had never experienced.

The tour of the second floor was forgotten for the time being. They had been there for nearly three hours reading and discussing, when Darcy distinctly heard Elizabeth's stomach growl.

He laughed merrily at her embarrassment. "Should I call for some lunch Miss. Elizabeth?" he asked, but had already stood to find a servant. He found one in the hall, and after a discussion, the two decided that luncheon should be served in the less formal dining room downstairs, where he usually breakfasted with Georgiana.

"You seem to be gaining back you strength remarkably fast Miss. Elizabeth," Darcy commented upon entering the library once more. She looked up from her book.

"I have always been speedy at recovering Mr. Darcy, therefore these physicians orders are absolutely absurd." She stated matter-of-factly.

"Like I told you before, I am merely carrying out orders. Very poorly I might add. You were not to leave your room."

"And like I said, Mr. Darcy: absurd. Had I not been a woman, I would be allowed to do whatever I please as soon as I could walk once more." Elizabeth put down her book and stood as if to demonstrate that she was not the average weak woman she was stereotyped as.

Darcy offered her his arm, and she took it without comment, though he caught a curious glimpse in her eye. "As truthful as your words may be, it is sometimes best to be cautions, rather than make your situation worse."

Elizabeth sighed. "I suppose you are right Mr. Darcy. I admit to feeling uneasy that my memory has still not returned, but I am also afraid of what it is I should be remembering."

He nodded sympathetically. "I am sure it is frustrating. But for now, let us proceed to the ground floor, where luncheon is currently waiting for us."

Her husband was in a foul mood. She knew it was her fault for hiring such an idiotic man, but he had shown great potential, and his first few assignments had gone off without a hitch. This one was, however, very important to him for some reasons she could not comprehend.

No one but her husband and herself knew about their business, and for good reason. No one of their title and class should be involved in such dirty work, and when people found them, it was with great effort on their behalf. His trade business had failed terribly, and in an effort to live up to their new title in life, they started this business. It was seemingly so out of character for them, but in this society, you never knew whose personalities to believe.

As she walked by his study door, which was open, she saw him leaning over his writing desk tending to some sort of letter.

"My dear, it is nearly time for dinner." She reminded him gently as she entered, and he looked up at her.

"He never told me what he did with the driver," her husband said. He was a very jovial man outside of the home, but today he looked worn out and exhausted. He at times despised his line of work, and today seemed to be one of those days.

She shut the door behind her. "You mean what Elisha did with Elizabeth's driver?" she inquired as she approached him.

"Yes." He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "He said he had brought him into the woods alive, but what after that?"

"Even if he is still alive, he can only know that it is Elisha that did it. Elisha is dead, so what does it matter?" Her husband flinched. He hated that he had to kill the man, but it was done, and could not be fixed or undone. She often had to encourage him and found it wearying. She was the main force behind their whole business, but being a woman, no one would take her seriously.

"Come my dear. Let us eat dinner and think of it no longer."

Chapter 7: The Garden

Luncheon was pleasant, but afterwards, Elizabeth was appalled at herself that she had found it necessary to take a nap.

Her dreams had started off pleasant enough. It was a sunny day, the temperature just right. It wasn't warm enough to incite unwanted perspiration, but not cool enough to shiver unattractively.

The landscape rolled past the carriage that was empty but one person. Elizabeth observed the rolling hills with barely a thought in their regard. Her thoughts were otherwise engaged with a rather unpleasant subject that had caused a crease of worry to form between her eyebrows.

That had only made him laugh, and that was when she noticed the large rock in his hand. He raised it and--

Elizabeth sat up suddenly in her bed, panting in the way she did when she ran through the property at Longbourn for too long in blistering heat. She was slightly disoriented that the room was dark, and she realized that she must have fallen asleep right through dinner into the evening.

Her first thought was that poor Mr. Darcy had to dine alone that night. Her second thought was that she needed to get outside.

It was easier said than done. Elizabeth had taken great care to avoid any of the servants, for all of them were probably under Darcy's orders to make sure she did not over exert herself, or that they would report her to him.

He had promised that the gardens would be either tomorrow or the day after, but after he dream, she didn't want to wait any longer. She longed fresh air and the smell of pollen.

Finally she found a door that led to a terrace in the back of the house, and a path that led off to the gardens.

Elizabeth strolled for a while, unaware of how chilled she was, or that she was shaking. Her dream, it seemed, was an actual piece of her memory, restored at a time when her brain was relaxed and not thinking in its usual chaotic way.

She wasn't sure what to make of it. She couldn't remember why it was so important that she get to wherever she got to, nor where she had been headed. But the dream had felt real enough, the emotions had been enough to stir her from her sleep. She had no doubt that it was a real life occurrence. The part that disturbed her most was the man at the end with the mocking smile and huge rock clutched in his over sized hands.

"I thought we had agreed you were to wait at least until tomorrow Miss. Elizabeth," came a voice from behind her, and she whirled around to face Mr. Darcy, who did not look mad at her whatsoever. He in fact looked amused. He also looked concerned as he handed her a blanket. "You must be cold."

Elizabeth accepted it gratefully. "I came out here to think." She told him, breaking away from his gaze to look skyward at the stars. "How many stars do you think there are Mr. Darcy?"

Her question confused him, but he answered it. "More than anyone will be able to count I am sure." Darcy observed her, and instantly knew that something was not right with her. Her eyes held no sparkle of laughter that she was always so ready to give at anytime. She looked troubled, and he was moved by the sudden urge to help her at any cost. "Are you quite alright Miss. Elizabeth?" he asked her quietly.

She turned to look at him. "I had a dream…" she began, trying to decide if she could trust him with the information, but why not? Had he not proven himself worthy time and time again, even when she had refused to see it? "About the carriage accident." Then she proceeded to tell him what had happened.

For Mr. Darcy, when she got to the part about the man with the rock, he was overcome by anger so strong, he had to look away from her so she did not think he was becoming insane. He longed to hunt down this man, but besides his overall size and cruel smile, she could not describe him adequately enough.

"We will find him Lizzy." He swore to her when she was done. "We shall find him, and he will suffer the worst of consequences."

Elizabeth was startled at the informal use of her name, but it did not bother her as it once would have. He didn't seem to notice he had said it, so she said noting about it. She was grateful that he cared enough for her still to swear to avenge her in a way. He was all chivalry, and she was merely a house guest that could do nothing for him in return.

They walked in silence for a while, arm in arm, when they came to a small pond with all different kinds of life inhabiting it. Fish, frogs, insects….

"When I was a very young boy I used to fish in here." Darcy said, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen over them. "My father had forbidden me to keep anything I caught, but one day I came down here with a large bowl I had snuck from the kitchen. It was made of glass. The smallest fish I caught that day was a coy, and I put it in the bowl filled with water and attempted to bring it to my room." He sighed and watched the small orange fish dart back and forth. "I had decided that the fish was going to stay in my room when the bowl had gotten a little too heavy for my six year old self to manage. I dropped it while trying to get up the stairs. The bowl had broken, but I was devastated that I wasn't able to get my fish to safety. It died on the carpet while I looked for something else to put it in. Later that night my father sat me down and taught me one of the first of many lessons about life he would give me. He told me that I could only look after something when I was positive I was responsible enough to do so. That if you were breaking all the rules to win something you wanted, it was wrong. I guess the lesson applied to the fish, and maybe that was all it was intended for, but now as an adult I can not help but think he was wrong."

Elizabeth was not sure what the relevance of his story was, but it seemed to be important to him that he said it. She laughed quietly though, at how different their fathers had been. "My father once told me that breaking the rules is what keeps life interesting."

Darcy looked at her appreciatively. "I'm starting to believe that more and more lately." His gaze changed then, and she saw something in it that frightened her. She searched his face, looking for further clues, anything that indicated what he was thinking.

His eyes were moving over her face rapidly, and he seemed to be struggling with something internal. Elizabeth's heart was pounding far too fast for her to be comfortable, so she turned back into the direction of the house, and since they were still arm in arm, he had no choice but to comply.

The walk back was silent as well. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, it was more like a companionable silence. It continued all the way up to the third floor. She turned to bid him goodnight, but the words were stopped as she saw his expression was much the same as before.

He reached up and slowly tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, his eyes still roaming her face almost hungrily. "Goodnight Lizzy." He said softly, and he quickly retreated into his chambers, leaving a thoroughly confused Lizzy standing in the hall, wondering why on earth she wasn't reprimanding him on such conduct, and why a small smile had somehow managed to force its way onto her face.

Chapter 8: Georgiana

"What does she look like Richard?" Georgiana asked, breaking a long but comfortable silence between the two cousins.

Richard looked at her from the other side of the carriage. He didn't answer right away, but he knew of whom she was referring to. Richard had told her everything upon his arrival at the Darcy house situated in London. Since then, Georgiana had been very excited to meet her. She was curious who this woman was, and how she had seemed to win the heart of her brother. Georgiana was one of few who knew the true nature of Fitzwilliam Darcy, and was also aware of the misconceptions that others had about him.

She was very shocked that someone below their station had managed to achieve such a thing. Georgiana was a very kind and generous woman, and she did not mind even the lowest of people, as long as they were nice agreeable people. She believed that people can not help what they are born to, just as she could not help being born into wealth. But her brother was held to high expectations by her family that he had planned to honor, which made this all the more surprising.

Richard had explained to Georgiana already what Elizabeth looked like, and did so again with a knowing smile on his face.

"Oh Richard, is he as different as you say?"

He nodded. "You will hardly recognize your brother. He's turned into quite the romantic, and I think he actually laughed the other day, can you believe it?"

"No!" Georgiana cried in mock scandalization. "I assure you it is true." Richard said, as his cousin looked out the window for the umpteenth time. "We're here Richard!" She cried excitedly. It was still early in the morning, the inhabitants of the house probably only just finishing breakfast.

The carriage rolled to a stop in front of the main doors, and in front of the doors waiting with a large grin on his face was Mr. Darcy. Georgiana waited impatiently for the footman to help her out, and then she nearly ran to her brother. "William!" she cried ecstatic to see her brother for the first time in many months.

She hugged him while he laughed, and she stood back to observe him. He was wearing a carefree smile that suited him well. He had always had a soft spot for Georgiana, so his affection was not a new development. There was, however, a change in him that was displayed through his once carefully guarded smile and polite manners. Now his smile made him seem five years younger, and it reached his eyes as he twirled his sister to get a better look of her.

"Have I not grown William?" she asked him. "I am now past your shoulders!"

Her brother laughed. "My dear, I am sorry to say that you will probably grow no further." He looked over Georgiana at his cousin. "Thank you for delivering her safely Richard," and it was evident that his mind had traveled to Elizabeth (which was not uncommon now a days,) and the accident she had barely four days prior.

Darcy did not miss the fact that Georgiana's eyes were searching the area. "What are you looking for Georgie?" he asked her innocently.

"Where is Miss Bennett? I so wish to meet her." His sister explained. He knew, however, that as soon as a stranger presented herself to Georgiana, she would go quiet as a mouse, and act very shy.

Darcy's smile grew unknowingly bigger as the conversation turned to Elizabeth. A part of him was relieved that he had yet to meet her this morning, after his incredibly inappropriate display the night before. He wondered sadly if she was furious with him.

"Miss Elizabeth has not yet awakened. It is imperative that she get her rest, so we are not expecting her to conform to the rules of society just now." He explained, and his gaze went to the third story window that belonged to her.

His smile grew impossibly bigger when he saw the curtains move. Perhaps she was awake then, and was curious to see the infamous Georgiana Darcy.

"Oh," his sister said, seeming slightly disappointed. However that expression was replaced with one of mischief. "I hear you are falling in love brother. Pray tell, is it true?"

Darcy nearly choked while Richard was trying to hold back a laugh while he half heartedly chastened his cousin. "Georgiana, that is rude." He could not hold back his laugh though when Darcy glared at him.

"I have not the faintest idea what you are talking about Georgiana." Darcy said with as much dignity that he could manage, but he was not fooling anyone. At a desperate attempt to change the topic, he asked his cousin if they had broken their fast that morning.

He was beginning to think inviting his sister may have been a bad idea, purely because she was almost as elated about having Elizabeth over as he was.

Mrs. Bennett sat in her parlor with her three youngest daughters, Maria Lucas and Lady Lucas. It was a particularly warm day in late April and Mrs. Bennett was waving her fan franticly in an effort to drive off the heat, but failing miserably. On and on she prattled about her poor nerves and how she missed her dear Jane.

"She is a lovely one. It is a wonder Mr. Bingley did not make her an offer. No doubt he was persuaded otherwise by his disagreeable friend, Mr. Darcy." Both the Lucas' looked at Mrs. Bennett, then at each other. Maria quickly returned to her conversation with Kitty and Lydia, and Lady Lucas made a gesture of sympathy that only put fuel on the fire that was Mrs. Bennett.

"But only yesterday morning Mr. Bennett was giving me word on a particularly generous deed Mr. Darcy has done for our family, quite out of character as well." Mrs. Bennett said, and she took a long deliberate sip of her tea, wanting her neighbor to inquire as to why such a wealthy man of elevated status would do their family a favor. She was not disappointed.

"Mr. Darcy?" Lady Lucas asked, seeming genuinely shocked. "That man who refused to dance with either of our daughters and, as I recall, slighted young Lizzy?"

"Why yes, the very one!" Mrs. Bennett cried. She closed her fan and pointed it at Lady Lucas, her voice taking on a lower tone that indicated a secret was being told. "It seems he came to the rescue of our Dear Lizzy just in time. She was in a terrible accident, and he is allowing her to stay at his home until she is able to make the journey back to us!"

Mrs. Bennett was too engrossed in her story to notice the puzzled glance Maria gave her mother. She also looked quite hurt. "Of course, now he seems more agreeable and perhaps Mr. Darcy is not the rude man we all thought him to be. But imagine! My Lizzy at Pemberley! Oh, what a thought. He is at the very least generous to have come to our Lizzy's aid. I do wonder why she was in Derbyshire though. Are you sure, my dear, that she said nothing to you?" Mrs. Bennett's question was directed to Maria, who shook her head. She had been asked the question many times. It was something of a scandal for Elizabeth to travel all the way to Derbyshire unaccompanied.

The conversation drifted back to Jane when Mrs. Bennett's thirst for information on her daughter had not been quenched, and after five more visits, the Lucas' returned to Lucas Lodge.

Elizabeth was embarrassed that Mr. Darcy had caught her spying on his reunion with his sister, but when the sound of a carriage had waken her from her unusually light sleep, she had become curious to see what Georgiana looked like.

She was more beautiful than Elizabeth could believe. While it was evident that she was Mr. Darcy's sister, she had a striking resemblance to her mother, whom Elizabeth had seen a portrait of on the second floor. Mr. Darcy resembled more closely his father.

Georgiana had called him 'William,' and Elizabeth wondered vaguely how he would respond if she called him so informally. She had the sudden thought that he probably would not mind at all, just as she didn't care that he occasionally called her 'Lizzy,' even though it is inappropriate for him to do so.

Elizabeth did not talk much when Sophie came to help her dress, and she ate her breakfast slowly. She was not actually nervous to meet Georgiana. She was in fact very excited. It was Georgiana's brother she dreaded seeing. Elizabeth had still not made up her mind about how she felt about the quiet moment in the dark hallway the night before. It had made her smile yes. Her stomach had also performed unique acrobatic tricks while her heart seemed to beat loudly in her ears. But she wouldn't admit all this to herself.

Her breakfast had only just been cleared away when there came a knock on the door. She knew by instinct who was on the other side of the door, so she half reluctantly, half elatedly answered the door.

There he was, looking handsome as ever. Mr. Darcy bowed to her. "Good morning Miss Elizabeth. I am not sure if you are aware that my cousin and sister arrived only a short while ago," he began, smoothly ignoring the fact that they both knew he had seen her at the window this morning. "Both are impatient to meet with you however. They have requested you join us in the parlor."

Elizabeth only hesitated to answer momentarily. "I would be delighted to."

She joined Mr. Darcy in the hallway, and as they made their way down the stairs, he offered her his arm, as had become a habit in the three short days of her visit. The feeling of ease between them had changed noticeably however, but neither of them would discuss the event that was coming between them.

Upon entering the parlor, Elizabeth observed Georgiana's change in her mannerisms. She suddenly appeared to look very shy and vulnerable, compared to the young girl who had been laughing merrily at a joke her cousin had told mere seconds ago.

Darcy had released Elizabeth's arm before they had entered the room, a gesture that told her he did not want his family getting the wrong idea of the relationship between the two of them.

"Miss Elizabeth, may I introduce to you my sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy?" Mr. Darcy said, and Georgiana stood and curtsied.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Miss Bennett. I have heard so much about you." Georgiana said quietly, averting her gaze.

"Likewise Miss Darcy. I have heard nothing but praise on your behalf." Elizabeth said, smiling at her kindly. "You brother speaks of nothing else." She added.

Mr. Darcy laughed. "I can assure you sister, that I have many subjects I take pleasure in discussing. Miss Elizabeth exaggerates."

Georgiana looked at her brother with an excited smile on her face. Just the small exchange had been enough to confirm her belief in her brothers feelings. Throughout the rest of the morning, she merely only had to observe the two of them to further strengthen her beliefs. Georgiana greatly enjoyed Elizabeth, and would love nothing better than to have her as a sister-in-law. She was comical and witty, but also polite. When Georgiana had asked her advice, she had been more than obliging. But she could not decide if she felt for her brother, the way her brother felt about Elizabeth.

"Richard!" Georgiana called out to her cousin a few minutes after luncheon. Elizabeth, who was still regaining her strength, was being assisted upstairs by Mr. Darcy so that she may rest.

Colonel Fitzwilliam turned to face his cousin with a smile. "Yes my dear?"

"I think we may have a small problem," Georgiana said in a quiet voice.

"Oh, and what is that?" Richard said in a whisper, as if they were children attempting to not be overheard by the adults.

Georgiana laughed quietly at her cousins antics, and said, "I am not sure if Miss Bennett returns my brothers feelings. This is terrible indeed and will not do."

"What do you think we should do?"