Beginning, Section II, Next Section

Chapter 11: An Attempt at Civility

Posted on 2008-07-04

The events of the following morning did nothing to lessen Darcy's desire to speak with Bingley at the earliest opportunity. He was pleased when Elizabeth entered the breakfast room, and relieved to see her in good spirits despite Miss Bingley's cutting words the previous evening. Bingley rose immediately to escort her to the seat next to him, and wasted no time in inquiring after her sister. Elizabeth smiled serenely and assured him that her sister was recovering. Fearful of exciting Miss Bingley's resentment again, and wishing to shield Elizabeth from its effects, Darcy refrained from entering into conversation with Elizabeth and contented himself with watching her converse happily with Bingley.

After dealing with some neglected correspondence all morning, Darcy sought out his friend. Finding him at billiards with Mr. Hurst, Darcy wasted no time in addressing him.

"Bingley, I would speak with you," Darcy declared as he entered the room, speaking with practiced authority.

Bingley glanced up briefly from his shot, and answered, "One moment, Darcy. I will have Hurst bested after this turn!"

"I would speak with you now," Darcy stated evenly; his voice brooking no opposition.

Surprised by his friend's persistence, and concerned with the seriousness of his tone, Bingley struck the ball inattentively; sending it sailing aimlessly across the table. With a frustrated sigh, Bingley dropped his stick onto the table and turned to congratulate Hurst.

"Well then; I hope you are happy, Darcy," Bingley said disappointedly. "You just cost me five pounds!"

As Bingley regretfully handed over Hurst's winnings, Darcy declared, "Forgive me, Bingley, but it is an important matter."

Bingley's brow furrowed as he studied his friend. Darcy always spoke seriously; his almost constant study since Cambridge and his intelligence resulted in his discourse being rational and well-informed. On this day; however, Bingley sensed a discomfort in his friend that he rarely witnessed, and noting this, recognized that the subject of Darcy's thoughts must be grave indeed.

"Of course, Darcy," said Bingley. "Hurst, may we put off our next match until later?"

Hurst rose from his seat, and after wavering a little where he stood, gruffly declared, "Very well then; I am in need of some port anyway."

While Hurst turned toward the door and made his way out of the room, Bingley asked, "Is not the hour still too early for port, Hurst?"

Hurst scoffed at this inquiry and asserted, "It is never too early for port!"

With this, he continued down the hallway. Bingley looked toward Darcy and sighed in resignation before turning from the room toward his study. The two men walked in silence; each fearing the discourse that was to come. Bingley wondered what unhappy news Darcy was about to impart, while Darcy feared offending his friend and irrevocably damaging their relationship. As they entered the study, Bingley closed the doors firmly behind them. Darcy looked around the room, taking in its size and heavy oak walls, before smirking at the condition of Bingley's desk.

"Truly, Bingley; you should answer some of this correspondence," he said wryly while picking up a pile of letters and wondering at their age.

"I highly doubt that you called me away from billiards to discuss my inability to answer the post," Bingley observed, settling into his chair behind the desk.

Darcy stood rigidly and tossed the pile back on the desk. Sighing, he moved toward a seat across from his friend, and sat heavily upon it. Darcy rubbed his hand over his face, and then turned his attention to his ring; studying and turning it in meditation. Bingley watched curiously; wondering what could have unsettled his usually sedate friend in such a way.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, he asked, "What would you speak with me about, Darcy? It must be very serious, indeed, for you to behave in such a way."

Darcy noticed Bingley look toward his signet ring pointedly, and blushing at his unconscious turning of it, Darcy moved his hands to the arms of his chair. Looking at his friend, he breathed deeply and began.

"I would speak with you about your sister," Darcy declared.

Bingley started for a moment and stared amazedly before stating, "I had no idea you held any admiration for her. I, of course, will welcome you as a brother, but I must admit I am shocked that you..."

Darcy paled, and abruptly exclaimed, "I am not asking for her hand, Bingley!"

With his brow furrowed in confusion, Bingley asked, "You are not?"

Darcy shook his head emphatically, and declared that he never had any intentions in that quarter.

He continued in mortification, "Truly, Bingley; I am not here to ask for your sister's hand."

Bingley sat back in his chair and laughed heartily, stating, "Careful, Darcy; or I will take offense to how much you do not wish to marry my sister!"

Darcy sighed in frustration and mumbled, "My apologies then."

Bingley waved this statement away and asked Darcy to begin again.

Realizing he must be more direct, Darcy declared, "I have no wish to offend, but I would speak with you about her behavior towards Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

Noting Bingley's silence as an invitation to continue, Darcy asked, "Do you not see how your sister speaks to her? I find it shocking that she can treat a new acquaintance with such cold civility."

Bingley leaned forward, and sighing, admitted, "Caroline can be abrupt in her conversation, but she does not mean any harm. I am certain that her questions toward Miss Elizabeth last night, though shocking, were not meant meanly."

Darcy stood from his seat in frustration, and paced the room agitatedly. Leveling his gaze on his friend, he asked, "Regardless of her intentions, would you wish the people of Hertfordshire to hear that Miss Elizabeth, or any guest for that matter, was abused while staying under your roof?"

Bingley studied Darcy thoughtfully, while Darcy pushed on asserting, "Do you realize that Miss Elizabeth would undoubtedly confide in Miss Bennet if she felt herself unsettled by your sister's remarks?"

At this declaration, Bingley looked alarmed his eyes wide, and his mouth moved mutely as he attempted to answer. Darcy continued passionately, "Miss Elizabeth's situation should invoke compassion, not ridicule! For her to be mocked openly in company and treated with such indifference; it cannot be borne, Bingley!"

Surprised by the fervor with which he spoke, Darcy sat heavily upon his seat and stared absently into the fire. After some moments of silence, he shook his head and stated softly, "It is unconscionable."

Bingley drummed his fingers nervously upon the desk; thinking on his friend's words amazed by the vehemence of his address.

‘Surely,' he thought, ‘Darcy would not speak so unless he felt certain.'

Nodding his head gravely, he agreed that he would speak with his sister at the earliest opportunity.

"And I will ensure," he continued indignantly. "That after our meeting, Caroline will treat Miss Elizabeth respectfully. I only hope that Miss Elizabeth will accept my sincerest apologies; I would not injure her or Miss Bennet for the world."

Darcy watched his friend look sadly toward the ceiling, and quickly assured him that he believed both the Miss Bennets would forgive any slight. Wishing his friend good luck, Darcy stood from his chair and left the room. Retreating down the hallway, he heard Bingley call for his sister as she passed his door. When she entered, Bingley closed the doors behind her, and Darcy smiled in satisfaction as he noted the serious and determined look on Bingley's countenance.

Elizabeth sat at the pianoforte; running her hands along the intricate carvings on the instrument and allowing her fingers to study their detail. She was thankful when Mrs. Hurst offered to escort her to the music room so that she might practice while Jane rested before luncheon. Feeling the smooth ivory beneath her fingertips caused her to smile softly, and the sound of the first chords eased her mind slightly. The previous evening had unsettled her much more than she wished, for she rarely felt distressed by the opinions of others, nor did she dwell unhappily upon them. For this reason, she retreated to the comfort of Jane's chamber, and not wishing to upset Jane's gentle spirit or her opinion of her new friends, said nothing of her embarrassment. Yet, Miss Bingley's words did unsettle her, and Elizabeth retired to bed that evening wishing to know Mr. Darcy's thoughts.

‘Stop it, Lizzy,' she thought bitterly. ‘His reaction matters not, and when he leaves Hertfordshire, you will go on just as you always have.'

This thought brought her no comfort, and instead she felt a sudden sense of emptiness. Hoping to quell these feelings, she laid her ear on the top of the instrument and closed her eyes. Breathing deeply, she allowed the sonorous notes she played to wrap around her.

It was this picture which greeted Mr. Darcy when he passed the music room on his way from leaving Bingley. He stood captivated at the doorway, and leaned weakly against the doorframe, listening intently to the remarkable melody that filled the room. He smiled slightly when he realized it was far more "complicated" than anything he had ever heard either of Bingley's sisters play, and he marveled at the speed with which Elizabeth's slender fingers flew across the keyboard. He took in her form; how the light lit her dark curls, how the shade of her dress complimented the blush of her cheeks, and how her skirts pooled delicately at her feet. Sighing, he admitted to himself that she was, indeed, everything that was lovely.

‘And what of it, Darcy?' his rationality asked, ‘What interest do you have in such a woman?'

Tearing his eyes from her form, Darcy shook his head, not knowing the answer, but acknowledging that her presence affected him far more than any woman's ever had. Glancing once more at her, he resolved to leave her to herself. She appeared not to notice him, and though he knew he should make his presence known, he had no desire to interrupt her happy solitude. Noting once more, the pleasure with which she played, he slowly retreated from the room.

The weight of his step forced a floorboard to creek beneath him, and he blushed in mortification when her playing abruptly halted. He glanced up to see her turning toward his direction, a look of wonder on her face.

Clearing his throat, he declared, "Good day, Miss Bennet."

He was gratified to see her smile when she answered, "Good day, Mr. Darcy. Do you make a habit of sneaking up on blind women?"

He prepared himself to apologize profusely, but stilled when he heard her laugh quietly and saw her turn toward him merrily. In spite of his embarrassment, he smiled slightly.

Approaching her tentatively, he said, "My most sincere apologies, madam, but I believe my clumsy retreat alerted you to my presence."

Smiling broadly, Elizabeth stood from her seat, and declared, "I must confess that it did, but I could not resist; it is not gentlemanly to spy."

She looked momentarily uncertain, and Darcy stepped forward to offer his arm. Taking it, she thanked him.

Elizabeth continued good-naturedly, "I was hoping Mrs. Hurst would arrive to collect me, but seeing as you have appeared first, I will avail myself of your assistance."

Darcy smiled, and was pleased to see that her good humor was unaffected. As they walked from the room toward the dining room, he inquired after her sister. The affection with which she spoke of her sister touched him, and reminded him of his own sister and the fact that he had neglected her as of late. Upon entering the dining room, they were greeted by Mr. and Mrs. Hurst. Mrs. Hurst looked surprised at Elizabeth's appearance, and hastily apologized for forgetting to collect her from the music room.

"I am so very sorry, Miss Elizabeth," she exclaimed, "my thoughts have been very scattered today!"

As Darcy escorted her to her seat, Elizabeth professed that she was in no way offended, and smiled gently. Darcy walked around the table, and took the seat across from her so that he could better enjoy her conversation and presence. He studied her intently, and wondered at her remarkable ability to remain graceful in the face of such incivility. Soon the door opened to admit those absent from the party, and Darcy noted the unhappy look on each of their faces. Upon seeing Elizabeth, Bingley's demeanor softened, and his affable smile diffused his face when he inquired after her and her sister. Glancing at Miss Bingley, Darcy was unsurprised to see her mouth set in a firm, fretful line and her gaze fixed upon her lap. When the food was set out, the company fell into a companionable, albeit tense silence.

Some minutes passed in this way until Miss Bingley surprised the party by inquiring of Elizabeth how her sister progressed.

"I hope that she will be well soon," Miss Bingley continued civilly, "she is such a dear girl."

If Elizabeth was surprised by this attempt at civility, she did not show it. Instead, she thanked Miss Bingley for her kind words, and asked if she would like to visit Jane with her after luncheon. Miss Bingley asserted that she would be delighted, and glanced toward her brother, who nodded approvingly. Turning her attention back to her plate, Miss Bingley spent the rest of the meal in silence; an occurrence which satisfied at least three of those present.

The relative peace that was discovered at luncheon continued throughout the ladies' visit with Jane, and quite possibly would have proceeded throughout the afternoon had not a butler entered the parlor to announce the arrival of the Bennet carriage. He informed his master that it conveyed Mrs. Bennet and two Miss Bennets. Following Bingley's instructions, the butler retreated in order to retrieve the guests and bring them directly above stairs to Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth.

Once the butler departed, Miss Bingley exclaimed, "And now the mother and sisters have come? Are we to be invaded by every Bennet in the country?"

Falling into her seat heavily, she declared that it was not to be borne, and professed to her sister that she felt faint. As Mrs. Hurst set to fanning her feverishly, Darcy stood from his seat to move toward the window. The presence of more company unsettled him acutely, and he shifted uncomfortably where he stood. When he heard the rapid approach of people outside the door, he braced himself for Mrs. Bennet's strident voice, and was not disappointed. She entered the room quickly and nervously, followed by her youngest daughters, one of which held Elizabeth's hand so that she might keep pace with their mother. Bingley bowed low, and welcomed them to Netherfield.

"And how do you find Miss Bennet, Mrs. Bennet?" he asked gently.

Mrs. Bennet pressed her handkerchief to her chest dramatically, and declared urgently, "Oh, Mr. Bingley! I fear she is quite unwell, and a great deal too ill to be moved in the slightest! We must trespass upon your kindness a little longer."

Bingley assured her that he would welcome Miss Bennet's presence for as long as was necessary. He invited the ladies to sit down, and Miss Bingley was very unsettled when Mrs. Bennet chose to sit directly beside her. The younger sisters sat upon the settee near Mrs. Hurst, leaving Elizabeth standing near the door. Upon noticing this, Darcy quickly moved toward her to escort her to a chair near the window. Elizabeth thanked him quietly, and he bowed respectfully before retreating to his spot behind her.

Secure in the certainty of Mr. Bingley's hospitality, Mrs. Bennet felt safe to discuss other topics, and proclaimed, "Why Mr. Bingley, you have a lovely room here! It is decorated so handsomely! You have wonderful taste!"

Miss Bingley was horrified when Bingley admitted that the decorating was all her doing, for it directed Mrs. Bennet's attention toward her fully for several minutes. When Mrs. Bennet commented on the fine lace that adorned the tables, Darcy could take no more, and turned fully toward the window to intently study the trees outside. Sensing his annoyance and unable to bear her mother's exclamations any longer, Elizabeth inquired after her friend, Charlotte Lucas.

Looking toward her daughter quickly, Mrs. Bennet revealed that Miss Lucas was well, but on glancing toward Darcy's back declared to the room, "Sir William is to give another party. Of course, you are all to be invited; I am certain he will send a card soon!"

Bingley smiled at this, and asserted, "Sir William is an excellent man, and I look forward to knowing him better."

Glancing once more toward Darcy, Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, "Oh yes, he is among the finest of men. He is so very open and amiable, and those who fancy themselves gentlemen, but never open their mouths to say a polite thing to anyone, are quite mistaken!"

Elizabeth gripped the arms of her chair to keep herself from fleeing the room, and blushed in mortification. Though she could not see the effect of her mother's words on that gentleman, she imagined his shoulders tensed noticeably, and he moved to clasp his hands behind him in an attempt to quiet his irritation and discomfiture. Unfortunately, this vision of him was very near the truth. Upon hearing Miss Bingley snicker quietly from across the room, Elizabeth sighed painfully, and wished her mother and sisters away as quickly as possible. This was not to be granted so easily, as the youngest Miss Bennet asked Mr. Bingley if he ever meant to hold a ball at Netherfield.

"Please say that you will, Mr. Bingley!" Lydia cried heedlessly.

His amiability unaffected, Bingley declared, "I shall, Miss Lydia, and you may name the day of the ball!"

Darcy started when the younger sisters squealed with delight and their mother clapped happily. Glancing toward Elizabeth, he noted her heightened color, and wondered how she and her elder sister maintained such pleasing manners with such a family.

The hour of supper found Elizabeth in Jane's room; she had fled there following their mother's departure and had remained for the majority of the afternoon. Jane listened patiently as Elizabeth recounted their mother's behavior.

When Elizabeth finished, Jane smiled softly, and declared, "Perhaps, they were flattered by Mama's admiration of the house. Certainly, Miss Bingley must take great pride in her tastes, and she was undoubtedly gratified by our mother's opinions."

Elizabeth bit her lip, and refrained from telling Jane of Miss Bingley's resolute silence during the whole of their mother's visit. To Elizabeth, Miss Bingley's silence spoke of nothing but the derision and displeasure she found in having such company. Jane noticed her sister's worried countenance and leaned forward to take her hand.

"Truly, Lizzy," Jane said calmly, "surely they will not fault us for having a very silly mother, and three very silly sisters!"

Elizabeth laughed at her sister's uncharacteristic observation, and shook her head. She sighed in resignation, and prayed that her sister was correct. When the clock above the mantle struck eight, Elizabeth remembered she was due in the drawing room. She felt a sudden nervousness at the prospect, and for a moment, she held Jane's hand more tightly, attempting to draw out some of Jane's steady nature.

Noting her sister's sudden pensiveness, Jane asked quietly, "Are you well, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth turned toward her sister, and smiled softly before assuring her that she was well. Jane continued to study her sister, and after a moment, her eyes widened in recollection.

"Tomorrow is..." she began softly.

"Yes, it is tomorrow," Elizabeth answered tersely. Noting Jane's silence and not wishing to concern her, she continued, "I am truly well, sister. I have hardly thought of it."

Jane grasped Elizabeth's hand tightly, hoping to impart to her some sense of comfort. Elizabeth smiled slightly at the pressure, and patted her sister's hand gently.

"Lizzy, I know you would wish to be home with Papa," Jane said quickly. "I am so sorry to have kept you here!"

Elizabeth shook her head, and answered, "Now, now; there is nothing to regret. I am exactly where I should wish to be!"

Smiling softly, she lifted Jane's hand to her lips and kissed it softly. Elizabeth then urged her sister to rest, and assured her that she would rejoin her soon. Standing from her seat, Elizabeth retreated silently from the room and closed the door behind her. Jane watched her beloved sister leave before sinking into the softness and warmth of her bed.

‘You are not happy, Lizzy; not truly happy,' she thought sadly as sleep overcame her.

An hour later found the Netherfield party sitting in the drawing room; Bingley, his sisters, and Mr. Hurst sat at whist, while Darcy enjoyed the relative solitude that his letter writing provided. Elizabeth sat at the pianoforte behind him, playing soft airs to please the company. She smiled contently, because doing so saved her the discomfort of speaking with Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. As her fingers lifted from their final chord, and the party's applause diminished, she moved to a seat near the fire while Miss Bingley rose to approach Mr. Darcy.

"Please inform dear Georgiana how much I long for her company," she exclaimed, glancing over his shoulder. "It has been far too long since we last met!"

Darcy stared resolutely at the page in front of him and declared, "I have, madam, twice already at your request."

Miss Bingley smiled proudly, and approaching Elizabeth, explained, "Georgiana is Mr. Darcy's sister, Miss Eliza."

Elizabeth smiled slightly, and remained silent in the hopes Mr. Darcy would reveal more. She was disappointed when Miss Bingley continued.

"She is the dearest girl in the world! I am quite fond of her," Miss Bingley exclaimed, hoping to give the appearance of sharing a certain intimacy with the Darcy family. "She is so accomplished, yet so young! Mr. Darcy, you must be immensely proud of her!"

Glancing up briefly, he answered that he was, before returning to his writing. Elizabeth forced back a laugh at his terseness, and reflected that she admired him for his forbearance in the face of such compliments.

Bingley laid his cards on the table, and proclaimed happily, "I know so many young ladies who are accomplished! You all sing, draw, play music, and I know not what! It is quite remarkable!"

Elizabeth smiled at his good humor, but thought that she knew very few women she would define as accomplished. Miss Bingley laughed at her brother's declaration, and asserted that to be truly accomplished, a woman must possess much more.

"She must also have an impressive knowledge of dance, literature, fashion, and languages, while also possessing something pleasing in her air," she stated, smiling demurely as she took a seat near Darcy.

At this, Elizabeth laughed aloud, drawing the attention of the entire room, including Darcy, who put down his pen to turn fully toward her. Miss Bingley's smile tightened unhappily, and she asked what Elizabeth found so humorous in this definition.

Elizabeth stated seriously, "I find nothing humorous in it, madam, but I was reflecting that I know very few women who possess all of these things, and as such may be deemed accomplished by this definition."

Miss Bingley pursed her lips impatiently, and answered, "Miss Eliza, you have not had the opportunity to travel much in society, therefore, your ignorance in such matters is understandable. There are many accomplished ladies in our circle."

Elizabeth's brow furrowed slightly, before answering, "Indeed, Miss Bingley, you are perfectly right. I have not traveled much in society, but I have spent enough time in civilized company to recognize that accomplishment by your definition does not always coincide with amiability and intelligence."

Darcy smiled at this, and noted how Miss Bingley paled. He gazed at Elizabeth in admiration, and was enchanted when he saw her brow arch in challenge. Mrs. Hurst rose quickly, and declared that she was much in desire of a song. She crossed the room, looking urgently at her sister, and sat at the pianoforte. Miss Bingley remained silent, and Darcy watched with satisfaction as Elizabeth bid the company a good evening, and retreated from the room without assistance.

Once she entered the hallway, Elizabeth breathed deeply. She stood for a moment, and noted how her hands shook with excitement. Though she did not wish to cause Miss Bingley pain, nor embarrass her in company, Elizabeth could not abide her presumptuous behavior. She hoped that Mr. Bingley's good humor blinded him to the slight affront to his sister, and if not, that he would forgive her in time. Despite this worry, Elizabeth smiled triumphantly, and counted her steps toward the staircase so that she could return to Jane.

Elizabeth woke the following morning feeling weary. Her dreams the previous night had been vivid; images flashing brightly, laughter with her sisters ringing happily. Yet, among these dreams was a period of gray; figures and scenery blurring into indistinct shadows, while sad voices echoed in the background. Elizabeth closed her eyes tightly to rid herself of these unhappy memories. She turned her face toward the window, enjoying the feeling of warmth on her face as the sun filled the room. Rising from the bed, she made her way toward the window, and pressed her hand against the cold glass.

‘It is not so very damp as it was then,' she thought.

Sighing, she moved toward her trunk, and gathered up the gown on the top. Feeling its lace at the neck, she smiled and recognized it as her blue one. As always, Sarah had taken the utmost care in packing her things; placing the gowns in an order Elizabeth had memorized, and choosing garments with distinguishing features, so that Elizabeth might dress on her own without feeling unsure of her appearance. Elizabeth finished fastening her gown, and plucked her slippers from the trunk before shutting it tight. Sitting upon it, she plaited her hair and pinned her dark curls up simply. Smoothing some wayward strands behind her ears, she felt for her spencer and slipped her arms inside. Securing its buttons, and taking up her gloves, she left the room.

As the crisp air hit her face, Elizabeth breathed deeply. She smelled the distinct scent of leaves, and she shut her eyes, imagining their jeweled tones brightening with each day. The butler who walked beside her watched her curiously, but soon smiled at her contented expression. He escorted her toward the east garden at her request, and upon reaching a bench, asked if she wished him to return within the hour.

"No, that is quite alright, thank you," she answered. "I can follow the gravel path back."

The butler looked at her uncertainly, then bowed and bid her a good morning. When Elizabeth heard his footsteps diminish, she leaned back and turned her face toward the sky. She left the house well before breakfast, and expected it would be a least an hour before anyone else rose. With this knowledge, Elizabeth felt safe to wander through the garden in peace. She slowly ventured away from her bench, listening intently for the crunching gravel beneath her feet so that she might ensure she remained on the path. After wandering a few steps toward the edge of the path, she stopped and took off her gloves. Kneeling down, she placed her hand on the thick grass, and smiled when she felt the dew drip through her fingers. Drying her hands on her skirts, she suddenly heard something approaching her on the path. Realizing the footfalls were too light to be human, she listened intently until she discerned the panting of a dog. Smiling, she clapped her hands and heard him trot toward her happily.

Occupied as she was, Elizabeth did not hear Darcy approaching her as well. He had been walking the park for some time, enjoying the solitude, for little was to be found at Netherfield. It seemed that Miss Bingley had taken up a new appreciation for books, and each afternoon, he found her seeking him out in the library. He reflected on the previous day, and was pleased that Bingley's talk with her had somewhat tempered her behavior toward Elizabeth.

‘Elizabeth,' he thought happily.

He smiled, remembering the fire in her eyes as she defended herself the previous evening, and Miss Bingley's indignation that followed. When Elizabeth quitted the room Miss Bingley professed that Miss Eliza Bennet's manners were the coarsest she had ever encountered, and petitioned her brother to see her sent back to Longbourn at the earliest opportunity. Bingley merely smiled pleasantly, and declared that he had heard nothing untoward in Miss Elizabeth's address.

"She was only expanding upon your definition of accomplishment, Caroline, and you cannot fault her for that!" he had said.

Darcy laughed aloud, recalling Miss Bingley's silence that followed, and acknowledged happily that his good friend was, indeed, the master of Netherfield. It is this reflection that was interrupted by the sight of Elizabeth kneeling on the path and gently speaking to Bingley's dog. He smiled broadly, noticing that the dog had contently sat down, and seemed to enjoy her company immensely.

As he approached the pair, he heard Elizabeth say, "So you are to be my companion this morning? That is a very fine thing, for I would not wish to be alone."

Darcy stopped his progress, and watched Elizabeth carefully. He noted that the mischievous turn of her mouth and the brightness of her eyes were missing, and a touch of melancholy filled her voice. For a moment, he resolved to leave her to her solitude until his concern got the better of him.

‘She does not wish to be alone,' he reminded himself. ‘And I would not leave her in such a state.'

Taking a breath, he continued to approach her. Upon hearing the gravel crunch directly behind her, Elizabeth raised her head and turned expectantly.

"It is a fine day, is it not, Mr. Darcy?" she asked, her brow arched merrily.

Darcy blushed, and bowing deeply, wished her a good morning. He walked toward her until he was standing over her and her companion.

"May I ask how you knew it was me?" he inquired.

Elizabeth smiled, and continued caressing the dog's fur. After a moment she declared, "You have a distinct walk."

Rising from her position, she dusted off her skirts and turned toward him. "Besides," she continued, "you are the only person who insists on sneaking up on me."

Darcy smiled slightly and confessed, "So it would seem, though that is not my intent."

For some moments, the two stood in silence, until Bingley's dog became impatient and made his presence known by dropping a stick at Elizabeth's feet. She felt the weight on her half boot, and bent down to retrieve it.

"My apologies for boring you, my friend," she said to the dog as she patted his large head.

Tossing the stick, she listened to the dog happily trot after it. Smiling toward Darcy, she proclaimed, "It seems that my companion has found something far more entertaining than myself!"

Darcy watched contently as Elizabeth's eyes danced cheerfully, but soon recollected the sadness in her air only a moment ago. Clasping his hands behind his back nervously, he addressed her.

"You are out walking very early this morning, Miss Bennet," he ventured.

Nodding her head, Elizabeth acknowledged, "Yes, I find this is the best time of day for a solitary walk."

"You do not find it too cold?" he asked, turning his eyes to her face that was flushed from the briskness of the air.

"Not at all," she smiled. "The autumn is ideal; the breezes catching the leaves and carrying them, the damp scent of the ground, and the touch of frost in the morning. It is a beautiful time."

Darcy watched her lift her face to the sky, and was surprised when she asked, "Is there much color, yet?"

"Color?" he asked curiously.

She smiled, and turned her face toward him before declaring, "The trees."

Momentarily he remained silent, reflecting that he had never heard her ask for a description. He felt gratified that she would ask him, and looked at the trees across the lawn. He noticed that their hues were far less brilliant than they would be in Derbyshire at this time, but admitted to himself they were vibrant nonetheless.

Looking back to her, he declared, "They are mostly golden, but appear much brighter with the sun lighting them."

Lowering her face, she quietly thanked him. He watched her brow furrow thoughtfully, and grew concerned that her previous melancholy had returned.

"Miss Bennet, are you well?" he asked with more feeling than he intended.

Not wishing to make him anxious for her, she smiled slightly and said, "I am well, sir. I apologize that I am not the most animated company on this day."

He remained puzzled before he recollected Lady Lucas' words the night of the party.

‘Four years next week,' she had said.

Darcy started with the realization, and hoped he was wrong for her sake. ‘Surely,' he thought, ‘she would much rather be at Longbourn on such a day.'

Not knowing how to comfort her, he offered his arm and asked if she wished to accompany him on the rest of his walk. Smiling, she gratefully accepted. They set off across the lawn in silence, neither feeling up to the task of speaking, but enjoying the other's presence. Darcy glanced down at her, and watched the breeze ruffle the curls that fell to her forehead and wondered at their softness. He shook his head vigorously to rid himself of such thoughts.

‘Control yourself, man!' he admonished himself. ‘She is undoubtedly distressed, and that is all you can think of?'

Unknowingly, he released an exasperated breath and Elizabeth turned toward him, her brow arched quizzically. Realizing she sensed his unsettled mind, he spoke in the hopes of distracting her.

"If there is anything I can do for your present relief, Miss Bennet, please let me know," he stated evenly. "Perhaps you would like to return to the house?"

"No!" she cried suddenly, forcing Darcy to stop in surprise and look at her with worry.

Biting her lip in embarrassment, she quickly explained, "Forgive me, Mr. Darcy; it is just that..."

Her voice drifted off, and she sighed. Darcy released her arm, and she was alarmed when she felt its loss. For a moment she waited uncertainly, but was surprised when she felt Darcy move in front of her and gently take her hands in his. She gasped at the sensation of her bare hands in his; she had felt them before, but with the barrier of thick gloves.

"Miss Bennet," he began gently. "I would not force your confidence, but please, let me at least return you to your sister. You are not well."

Elizabeth blinked rapidly, and turned her face up toward his to declare, "I am well, truly I am. I cannot return to the house, because I have walked out on this morning for the last three years." Smiling slightly she continued, "It is a bit of a tradition I have with my father."

His suspicions confirmed, Darcy nodded and moved back to her side, securing her hand once again at the crook of his arm. He glanced at her helplessly, but remained silent, hoping she would continue. Elizabeth was thankful for his presence, and realized that he undoubtedly wished for some explanation of her behavior. Unsure of what compelled her to do so, she addressed him.

"On the twenty-sixth of October, four years ago," she said softly, blushing as she felt Darcy's gaze upon her. "I woke to find my world had gone quite dark."

Darcy listened intently, and unknowingly covered the hand on his arm with his own. Elizabeth blushed further at the touch, but continued resolutely.

Facing ahead, Elizabeth declared, "There had been a large family in the village, and my elder sister and I would visit them quite often. The husband had died some years before, leaving his wife and children very little to live on. We, and the rest of the parish, would do what we could for their comfort, but with six children in the family, our endeavors did very little."

Darcy nodded, but realizing she would miss this sign of his attention, stated quietly, "Go on."

Elizabeth smiled up at him briefly, before stating, "That October had been unusually damp, and Jane caught a cold." She smiled wryly, and proclaimed, "It would seem that she is always catching colds!"

Darcy laughed lightly, and the two walked on for some time in companionable silence. At length, Elizabeth declared, "With Jane ill, I visited the family on my own, but on my second visit, the youngest girl was quite unwell. The mother put the child in my arms, and bid me keep her warm while she went for Mr. Jones. I remember that the little girl was flushed and feverish, and I bathed her head in water until Mr. Jones arrived. Upon taking the child from my arms, he thanked me, and told me to return to Longbourn."

In her pause, Darcy felt a sense of dread weigh heavily on him as he realized quickly that the child's symptoms meant she had not long survived after Elizabeth's visit. He felt Elizabeth's hand quake slightly under his, and he quickly led her to a nearby bench. When she thanked him, he sat down a respectable distance from her, and turned his attention to her face once more. Her brow briefly crumpled painfully, before she breathed deeply and composed herself.

"I had not been at home long when I began to feel strange," she continued. "Wishing to check on me, Mr. Jones arrived soon after. I remember him looking quite pale when he saw me, and hurrying away to find my father and mother. The hour that followed was a flurry of activity; my sisters were hurried into a carriage, and my mother accompanied them. I found out later that for their protection, they went to my aunt and uncle in Town, because none of them had ever had the fever."

Elizabeth sighed deeply and reflected, "I did not even have the opportunity to say farewell to them. Only my father remained with me, and one would have to inquire of him about the details of the week and half that followed, for I have no recollection beyond a few blurred images."

Darcy listened wretchedly, imagining Elizabeth alone, but for her father. He realized that the obvious bond between Mr. Bennet and his second eldest stemmed from this event; a time when he was her sole guardian. Darcy reflected for a moment on his own father, before hearing Elizabeth begin once more.

She took a deep breath and stated quietly, "I woke a week and half later to see my father sleeping in a chair across the room. I prepared to call out to him, but noticed that his image was peculiar; the lines of his body were blurred and I could not make out his features. It was the twenty-sixth of October, and in the days that followed my sight declined further, until I was left with nothing."

Darcy remained silent, and stared resolutely at his hands, idly turning his ring. Turning toward her, he declared, "I am heartily sorry, Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth waved her hand in dismissal, and quickly stated, "I tell you, so that you may understand me better. I would not have you think me as boring today as my last companion did."

Darcy's brow furrowed until he caught sight of Bingley's dog racing across the lawn. Unable to resist, he laughed. Elizabeth reflected on the sound of it, and felt he should laugh more often.

When he collected himself, he asserted, "Miss Bennet, I do not believe I could ever find you uninteresting."

Elizabeth blushed at this, and turned her face away to hide her heightened color. She was grateful when Darcy spoke again.

"May I ask why it is tradition for you to walk out on this day?" he asked seriously.

She thought for a moment before stating, "It began the year after my illness. I suppose my father did not want me to feel regretful on this day. Instead, we would walk to Oakham Mount where he would describe every detail of the scenery, so much so that I could see it."

Darcy said sadly, "I am sorry you are not with him then."

Elizabeth turned toward him, and felt for his arm. Once she found it, she laid her hand upon it reassuringly and said, "I have no reason to repine my current company, sir."

Her hand lingered for a moment before she withdrew it. Darcy remained speechless for a time, and then stood from his seat. Elizabeth heard his movement, and turned her face up toward him questioningly.

Standing nervously, Darcy asked, "Miss Bennet, shall we complete our tour of the park? It has many beauties that I am certain you will be delighted with."

Elizabeth smiled and nodded. He guided her hand to his arm, and the two slowly walked the grounds for the next hour as Darcy paused periodically to point out some sight to Elizabeth.

Jane waited fretfully for her sister's return. When she awoke, she was informed by the maid attending her that Elizabeth had walked out about an hour before. Knowing of her sister's yearly outing, Jane worried that without their father's witty discourse, Elizabeth's walk would be an unhappy one. Just as she began to despair, her door opened to admit her sister. To Jane's surprise, Elizabeth appeared refreshed and content.

"Good morning, Jane," Elizabeth declared happily as she made her way to the bed.

Jane looked at her sister wearily, searching for some semblance of melancholy, but finding none answered, "Good morning, Lizzy. Wherever have you been? I was told you walked out over an hour ago!"

Elizabeth smiled and blushed before answering, "I did indeed."

"And are you well?" Jane asked, carefully studying her sister's countenance.

"I am," she answered. "You sound much recovered, sister!"

Thankful, yet startled by Elizabeth's good humor, Jane stared for a moment. Recovering herself, she replied that she did, indeed, feel better.

"I believe I should like to return to Longbourn tomorrow, Lizzy, if Mr. Jones assures me I am ready," she declared.

Elizabeth smiled at this news, happy at the prospect of returning to her father.

"Lizzy, forgive me, but whatever has happened?" Jane asked hesitantly. "You seem quite at ease, and on this day no less!"

Smiling slightly, Elizabeth owned, "Indeed, I felt very wretched this morning until Mr. Darcy happened upon me."

Jane's eyes brightened and she sat up quickly, exclaiming, "You were walking with Mr. Darcy!"

Elizabeth turned quickly toward her sister and declared, "There is nothing shocking in my walking with him!"

"Of course, dearest," Jane ventured tentatively, "but whatever did you talk of?"

"He described Netherfield's grounds to me," Elizabeth said simply.

Jane looked surprised at this declaration; Elizabeth rarely depended upon anyone, with the exception of herself and their father, for descriptions. She often preferred to draw her own conclusions of people and places without assistance.

With her brows raised in wonder, Jane asked, "Do you like him, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth was silent for a moment, thinking on Jane's words. She had entertained the same question several times over the past few days, but always came to the same determination.

Sighing, she asserted, "I would be happy to count him among my friends, Jane. I would be a fool if I wished for anything else. Believe me, I am in no danger."

Elizabeth felt Jane squeeze her hand, and she smiled. Moving toward the door, she stopped when Jane addressed her.

"If you and Mr. Bingley find him amiable, then the conjectures of Hertfordshire must be mistaken," Jane stated seriously.

Elizabeth leaned against the door and declared, "I believe you are right. I will ask Mr. Bingley to send for Mr. Jones."

With that, she left the room. When the door shut behind Elizabeth, Jane whispered, "Take care, Lizzy."

While Mr. Jones and Miss Bingley were above stairs with Jane, Elizabeth wandered toward the music room. She walked slowly, intently counting her steps as her hand felt along the cold plaster. Finding an open door, Elizabeth smiled happily and moved inside. She ran her right hand along the wall in search of familiar molding, only to encounter heavy wood shelves. Breathing deeply, she noticed the unmistakable scent of aging books.

"I must have miscounted," she mumbled unhappily.

For a moment she ran her hand along the shelf in front of her, enjoying the rough cloth of the volumes beneath her fingertips. She smiled, and could not help but think of her father ensconced in his library at Longbourn. She pictured him sipping a glass of port, and turning a well-worn page, while Mrs. Bennet prattled away about some new gossip. With this thought, she sighed heavily. She heard footsteps approaching from the hall, and in no doubt of who it was she smiled.

Realizing that Miss Bingley was occupied with Mr. Jones, Darcy entered the library without fear. He walked swiftly, passing Elizabeth without noticing her and took a seat near the fire.

Elizabeth smiled impishly and declared loudly, "Good day, Mr. Darcy."

Darcy started, and Elizabeth was gratified when she heard his sharp intake of breath. Glancing behind him, he smiled broadly at Elizabeth.

Rising from his seat, he quickly approached her declaring, "Good day, Miss Bennet. Do you make a habit of sneaking up on unsuspecting men?"

Elizabeth smiled merrily when she heard her own words used against her. Shaking her head, she admitted, "My apologies, sir. It was not my intent."

As he led her to a seat across from his, she added, "Although I thoroughly enjoyed it."

Darcy shook his head, and studied her for some moments. Bingley had informed the Netherfield party that the Miss Bennets would depart the following day. At once, Darcy felt relieved and distressed by the news. While he was disturbed by the realization that his interest in Elizabeth Bennet was growing daily, he also felt he would miss her presence heartily. Despite his concerns regarding his emotions, he looked forward to their discourse, and hearing her incomparable wit.

‘I will return to London soon,' he reminded himself. ‘And I will go on just as I always have.'

Yet from this realization, he drew no relief. Sighing, he resolved to enjoy her presence while he could.

"I should ask, Miss Bennet, what you were doing hiding in the shadows?" he asked evenly.

She smiled, and replied, "I was not hiding, sir. I was inattentive to my steps and ended up here rather than the music room."

When she finished, she blushed immediately, unable to believe she had so readily admitted her folly. She was grateful when Darcy replied kindly.

"Then it is a happy coincidence that you should find me here, Miss Bennet, for I know the location of the music room," he stated lightly.

She noted that he made no move to stand or offer his assistance, but remained seated. Raising her brow wonderingly, she waited expectantly.

Nervously he asked, "Would you... that is, I was just about to read Coleridge, and thought, perhaps, you would care to join me?"

Elizabeth smiled at his stumbling invitation, and owned that she would enjoy it. She had missed her father's readings, and longed to hear the meditations of a great mind. She heard Darcy reach behind himself to retrieve a volume, and turn several pages before addressing her.

Clearing his throat, Darcy began with his voice deep and even:

"No cloud, no relique of the sunken day
Distinguishes the West, no long thin slip
Of sullen light, no obscure trembling hues.
Come, we will rest on this old mossy bridge!
You see the glimmer of the stream beneath,
But hear no murmuring: it flows silently.
O`er its soft bed of verdure. All is still.
A balmy night! and though the stars be dim,
Yet let us think upon the vernal showers
That gladden the green earth, and we shall find
A pleasure in the dimness of the stars." *

Darcy paused and looked toward Elizabeth to ascertain her feelings, but was surprised to see her with her eyes closed peacefully. After a moment, she opened her eyes and turned toward him.

"That is lovely, but I have not heard it before," she declared.

Darcy smiled, and said, "It is ‘The Nightingale'. I have always had a fondness for it."

Elizabeth smiled, and asked if he would continue. Before Darcy could proceed, they were interrupted by Bingley's cheerful voice.

"There you both are," he exclaimed happily. "I have been in search of you."

Noting Darcy held a book, Bingley turned serious and inquired, "Miss Bennet, he is not boring you, I hope?"

Elizabeth laughed while Darcy rolled his eyes heavenward. To defend himself he declared, "Now, Miss Bennet, you understand why Netherfield's library is so wanting. You need only ascertain its master's opinion on literature."

Laughing even harder at this, Elizabeth turned toward Bingley expectantly, and was not disappointed when he proclaimed, "I know it is nothing to Pemberley's library, but you were always more bookish than I, Darcy."

At this, Darcy snapped his volume shut, and looked at his friend in disapproval. Bingley, noting his friend's displeasure, turned to address Elizabeth.

"Miss Elizabeth, I believe you will find your sister quite recovered this afternoon. Mr. Jones has given us his fullest assurance that Miss Bennet will be able to travel home tomorrow," he declared happily.

Elizabeth smiled and thanked Bingley for his continued kindness, and asked if he would return her to her sister. As Bingley secured Elizabeth's hand on his arm, she thanked Darcy for his reading to her.

Darcy bowed low and said, "It was my pleasure, Miss Bennet."

She smiled softly, and walked from the room with Bingley.

The following morning found the Miss Bennets in the front hall preparing for their departure. Elizabeth secured her bonnet and gloves, and listened to Miss Bingley's profusions of sorrow in losing Jane.

"Dear Jane, we will miss you enormously! Whatever are Louisa and I to do without you?" she simpered. "You must come to tea in a day or two!"

Jane thanked Miss Bingley quietly, and turned to say her farewell to Mrs. Hurst. Meanwhile, Miss Bingley addressed Elizabeth.

Smiling tightly, she declared, "It has been a pleasure, Miss Eliza. I have truly enjoyed... our discussions."

Elizabeth noted Miss Bingley's pause, and arching her brow, asserted "Yes, they have been very enlightening, Miss Bingley."

Having no answer to this, Miss Bingley turned back toward Jane and joined her sister in proclaiming once again, how heartily she would be missed. Elizabeth shook her head at their declarations. Her attention was suddenly arrested by the footfalls that approached her urgently, and she turned happily.

"Good day, Mr. Darcy," she greeted. "I feared we would not see you before our departure."

"Forgive me, Miss Bennet," he said slightly out of breath. "I was on my way when I remembered something."

He noticed her brow furrowed at this, and he produced a small volume from his waistcoat. Taking Elizabeth's hand, he wrapped her fingers around it. He watched as she ran her fingers over its spine.

"It is Coleridge," he said quietly. "I thought that you and your father could finish ‘The Nightingale' and then inform me of your opinions on it."
Elizabeth's eyes widened in surprise and she declared, "Mr. Darcy, I could not take this from Mr. Bingley's library."

Darcy smiled slightly and answered, "Then we are in luck, for it is not from his, but from mine."

Before Elizabeth could answer, Bingley approached her and asked if she was prepared to depart. Turning back toward Darcy, she thanked him again.

"Farewell, Mr. Darcy," she said as she curtseyed.

Darcy bowed and quietly replied, "Farewell, Miss Bennet."

Bingley guided both the Miss Bennets out the door, and Darcy watched as they slowly descended the stairs to the carriage. As Bingley handed them in, Darcy heard Miss Bingley sigh in relief.

"What a comfort to have one's house to oneself again!" she exclaimed.

Turning back toward the window thoughtfully, he observed the carriage as the driver called the horses to attention and pulled away.

* "The Nightingale" by Samuel Taylor Coleridge, 1798

Posted on 2008-07-12

Mr. Bennet watched with satisfaction as his eldest daughters descended from the carriage. He had felt their absence acutely, for since their leaving, not a word of sense had been spoken that he did not say himself. Catherine and Lydia's attention had been wholly consumed by the regiment encamped at Meryton, and not a minute passed without declarations of admiration for the redcoats. Mrs. Bennet reminisced with them, recalling her younger years when she too was enchanted by a company of soldiers. Thankfully, Mary's character had been unchanged by the appearance of the regiment, and she continued her sedate study of humanity's follies.

Smiling happily and putting aside his correspondence, Mr. Bennet stood from his seat and walked to the front hall. Upon entering the hallway, he heard Mrs. Bennet bemoaning her eldest girls' arrival, as she attempted to ascertain why they did not remain at Netherfield a little longer.

"Why ever did you not stay on another day?" she cried shrilly. "Surely Mr. Bingley would not have minded in the least!"

"Mama, I am well now, as you see," Jane answered gently. "I would not have imposed upon Mr. Bingley any longer."

Mrs. Bennet followed as Jane moved toward the stairs, and asked her eldest daughter to recount the details of her stay at Netherfield.

"You simply must tell me everything that was said between you and Mr. Bingley!" she continued as Jane moved to enter her bedroom.

Elizabeth stood in the front hall, removing her bonnet and gloves. She smiled and sighed, listening to her mother's declarations.

"Surely you are not so very sorry to be at home, my dear," Mr. Bennet proclaimed from his position outside his library door.

Elizabeth turned quickly and said happily, "Not at all, Papa. In fact, I am in great need of rational discussion."

Mr. Bennet laughed, and he moved forward to embrace his daughter.

"As am I, Lizzy, but I fear I must warn you that there is little to be had at Longbourn presently. Colonel Forster is getting married, and your uncle Philips has had the officers to dine several times this week. Such events leave us little time to talk of anything else," he said wryly.

Elizabeth laughed as she took her father's arm. Mr. Bennet studied his daughter and observed, "You look well, my dear. I missed you terribly on my walk yesterday."

Elizabeth smiled gently, touched that her father had walked to Oakham Mount in her absence, and quickly declared, "And I missed you on mine."

Mr. Bennet smiled happily, and patted his daughter's hand affectionately.

"Come my dear; let us go to the library. You simply must tell me of the elegant Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst! Were their conversation and tastes as genteel as your mother deems them?" he teased lightly.

Elizabeth laughed heartily as they retreated down the hallway.

Sitting to breakfast some days later, Mr. Bennet turned to his wife and inquired, "Have you ordered a good dinner for this evening, Mrs. Bennet?"

Mrs. Bennet glanced up from her plate and cried indignantly, "I should hope I always order good dinners, Mr. Bennet! Whatever can you mean by such a question?"

Smiling dryly, he stated quietly, "Only that I expect we shall have an addition to our party."

Immediately sensing her father's humor, Elizabeth turned toward him and raised her brow quizzically.

Mrs. Bennet, who even after so many years of marriage had not learned to recognize her husband's ironic wit, clapped happily and exclaimed, "It is Mr. Bingley to be sure! Why Jane, this must be because of you! Lydia, my love, ring the bell quickly, for I must speak with Hill immediately!"

Mr. Bennet set his fork down, and calmly admitted, "It is not Mr. Bingley, my dear. It is someone none of us have ever met."

His wife and younger daughters quickly questioned him, and he amused himself with their curiosity. Elizabeth quietly admonished him for his teasing, and begged him to reveal who their guest would be.

Smiling, Mr. Bennet explained, "It is our cousin, Mr. Collins, who when I am dead, may turn you out of this house as soon as he pleases!"

Mrs. Bennet whimpered quietly, before crying unhappily, "Do not mention that man, Mr. Bennet! I find it astonishing that you should allow him to enter this house when he is the means of disinheriting your daughters!"

Jane calmly explained that Mr. Collins' claim to Longbourn was by no means malicious, but Mrs. Bennet resolutely denied seeing any sense in the entail, and viewed it as an unnecessary evil.

"Mrs. Bennet, my cousin seems to wish to be forgiven for his unfortunate inheritance of Longbourn, and mentions in his letter that he seeks to make us amends," Mr. Bennet reasoned.

Mrs. Bennet looked thoughtful and declared sullenly, "Well, I should not stop him from making any amends toward our daughters, but I do not have to like him."

"No, my dear, you do not. I think; however, that we will be pleasantly surprised with him. From his letter, he sounds like a man of some conversation. I wonder at Lady Catherine being able to spare him so easily," Mr. Bennet declared before returning his attention to his plate.

At four o'clock, the carriage conveying the next master of Longbourn arrived, and the family moved out to the drive to welcome him. When the carriage halted, Mr. Bennet moved forward to receive his guest.

"Welcome to Longbourn, Mr. Collins," Mr. Bennet declared happily.

The family watched in anticipation as a serious young man of five-and-twenty descended clumsily from the carriage. He clamored to the ground with his luggage, and upon finally finding sure footing, straightened with his color heightened. Lydia snickered loudly, until Jane turned crossly toward her and told her to be silent. Paying his youngest cousin little attention, Mr. Collins bowed formally and greeted Mr. and Mrs. Bennet. As Jane and Elizabeth followed them into the house, Elizabeth listened to her father's discourse with Mr. Collins, and immediately perceived that Mr. Collins' air and address was incredibly grave and stately.

Smiling wryly, she said quietly to her sister, "I fear our father will be sorely disappointed with Mr. Collins."

Jane looked curiously at Elizabeth and asked, "Why ever do you say that, Lizzy? He seems to be a very polite young man."

Elizabeth smiled widely and professed, "Indeed he is! I imagine his noble patroness demands such formal manners, so perhaps we cannot fault him for them."

Jane smiled slightly and admitted, "Perhaps he is a little overly formal."

Laughing lightly, the two sisters entered the house.

During dinner, it became obvious to Elizabeth that she had not been wrong in her estimation of her father's disappointment. Mr. Bennet spoke not a word to his guest, for Mr. Collins' conversation was so prolific, that he did not require a partner in it. Mr. Bennet's attention remained on his meal, and he listened with little interest to Mr. Collins' descriptions of Rosings Park and its mistress.

"Truly, I have never witnessed such affability, such amiability, as I do in her ladyship. She has such goodness that when I first arrived at Hunsford, she offered to approve the subjects of my sermons before I preach them. I am happy to say, and do not attempt to flatter myself, that she has been pleased with them thus far," Mr. Collins said as he smiled in satisfaction.

Upon hearing this, Elizabeth thought to herself that Lady Catherine's offer to approve Mr. Collins' discourse was not a matter of kindness, but a matter of exercising her influence. She listened intently as her mother inquired after Lady Catherine's familial situation.

"I believe you said she is a widow, Mr. Collins. Does she have any family?" Mrs. Bennet asked with interest.

Mr. Collins' eyes brightened, and he declared that Lady Catherine did, indeed, have a daughter. Elizabeth was surprised when she heard him sigh sadly and continue.

"Her daughter is, most unfortunately, of a very delicate nature, and is unable to be at court. I have told Lady Catherine on more than one occasion that this is a most regrettable occurrence, for the realm is being robbed of its finest jewel," Mr. Collins finished sullenly.

Mrs. Bennet smiled in approval as Mr. Collins continued, "Indeed, such comments as these are very pleasing to her ladyship, and I notice that she receives them with the greatest pleasure."

"It is very fortunate," Mr. Bennet stated abruptly, "that you possess such a remarkable ability for flattering. I must ask, Mr. Collins, is this talent the product of study?"

Elizabeth laughed into her napkin, while Jane bit her lip to quell her smile. Mr. Collins seemed unaffected by Mr. Bennet's impertinence, and looked thoughtful for a moment before answering.

"I must admit, sir, that I do, on occasion, write down little compliments that may be well-received in company, but I attempt to give them as unstudied an air as possible when I say them," Mr. Collins stated seriously.

Lydia dropped her fork to her plate in exasperation, while Catherine looked in wonder at her cousin, and Mary nodded approvingly. Mr. Bennet smiled broadly, his previous disappointment over not finding his cousin to be a man of intelligent discussion melting away. He realized, as he studied the alacrity with which Mr. Collins ate his meal, that his cousin was absurd. Such a discovery was most welcome to Mr. Bennet, for he occupied his time with studying the silliness of his neighbors. He was pleased when he glanced toward Elizabeth, and saw that she was struggling to contain her amusement as well.

Following dinner, the company moved to the drawing room, except Mr. Bennet who fled to his library under the pretense that he had some pressing correspondence. As Mr. Bennet wished Mr. Collins a good evening, he caught Elizabeth raising her brow quizzically at him before smiling knowingly. Wishing his daughters and wife a pleasant evening, Mr. Bennet retreated quickly from the room.

Mr. Collins joined Mrs. Bennet upon the settee, and watched with enjoyment, his cousins conversing with one another. He observed to Mrs. Bennet that her daughters were all quite pretty. Mrs. Bennet thanked him happily, but noticed that the young man looked fondly toward Jane.

"I feel I must mention, Mr. Collins, that my eldest will most likely be engaged soon," she said carefully.

Thanking her for her information, Mr. Collins looked disappointedly toward his eldest cousin, before turning his eyes to Elizabeth.

"Miss Elizabeth's condition is very unfortunate," he declared. "I feel very sorry for you all. The effects of such an infirmity must be felt by the entire family."

Mrs. Bennet nodded solemnly as he continued, "Indeed, madam, you should not take her illness to be a sign of God's disapproval of her, but instead as a trial he has created to test Miss Elizabeth's fortitude. But one must wonder, Mrs. Bennet, what can be done for her? I feel most heartily for her, madam," he stated seriously.

Mrs. Bennet reflected on his question, for it was one she asked herself quite often when she thought on Elizabeth's future. Nodding gravely, she said, "Thank you for your concern, Mr. Collins."

He waved away her gratitude and declared loudly, "It is my duty as a man of God to pity all of His most unfortunate creatures, and do whatever is in my power to bring them comfort despite their unhappy situations. Miss Elizabeth must feel the disappointment of her limited prospects daily."

Elizabeth heard this last statement, and turned quickly toward her cousin and mother. Sitting rigidly, she asserted tersely, "I must admit, Mr. Collins, that I do not believe myself as unfortunate as you would have me be, and am quite comfortable with my situation."

Mr. Collins looked toward her and proclaimed in surprise, "Your optimism does you credit, cousin. I am very pleased that you have not given into a life of idleness and lamentation, as I would have expected someone in your situation to do."

Elizabeth colored and prepared to answer when she felt Jane place a comforting hand on her arm. Breathing deeply, she attempted to calm her rising displeasure.

Hoping to shield Elizabeth from Mr. Collins' attention, Jane declared, "Mr. Collins, I am certain we would all appreciate if you read aloud to us. Would you do us the honor?"

Forgetting his previous attention to Elizabeth, Mr. Collins humbly assented, and retreated to the sideboard for a selection.

Studying their titles and content closely, he declared, "Indeed, though I have no wish to flatter myself, I have been told that I have just the voice for reading aloud. Her ladyship has told me on several occasions that my voice is naturally suited to my profession."

Settling on Fordyce's Sermons, he resumed his seat and began reading promptly. Lydia gaped at the large volume, and Catherine looked alarmingly toward her mother. Mary, whose tastes in literature were far more sedate than her younger sisters, listened attentively. After some minutes, Lydia sighed in exasperation.

Looking toward her mother, and heedless of Mr. Collins' reading, she exclaimed, "I believe I shall walk to Meryton tomorrow, Mama, for I am in need of a new bonnet."

Mr. Collins' reading halted abruptly, and he closed his book loudly declaring, "I have noticed that many young ladies take little interest in books of a serious nature."

Jane and Mrs. Bennet apologized for Lydia's incivility, but Elizabeth turned fully toward her cousin.

"I am disturbed by your observation, Mr. Collins. What sort of books do you feel are suitable to the taste of a young lady?" Elizabeth asked curtly.

Mr. Collins looked at his cousin in surprise and answered, "Why, I suppose the tripe of novels and poetry, although I heartily disapprove of them." Turning toward Mrs. Bennet, he continued seriously, "Indeed, madam, if your daughters indulge in such readings, I would put an end to it immediately. Lady Catherine has often observed, and I agree heartily, that such books encourage the worst sort of behavior."

Mrs. Bennet nodded gravely, and her eyes grew wide with worry.

Elizabeth quickly declared, "Then you would not have us read at all, Mr. Collins? For you have said we hold little interest in serious volumes, and those filled with ‘tripe' are harmful to us."

Before Mr. Collins could answer, Mrs. Bennet declared firmly, "That will do, Miss Lizzy. Perhaps you or Mary could indulge us with a song."

Elizabeth declined, and professing that she had a headache, retreated above stairs. Entering her room, she closed the door indignantly, and sitting upon her bed, sighed heavily.

"Insufferable man," she whispered hotly.

Elizabeth reached out her hand toward her side table, and felt for the small volume she had laid there. Finding it, she picked it up and turned it over in her hands several times. Running her hand over its rough cloth cover, she bit her lip thoughtfully. Elizabeth opened the volume, and moved her fingers over the pages remembering Mr. Darcy's clear voice. She smiled slightly, and imagined his tall figure sitting in a dimly lit library surrounded by dark wood, and the musty smell of aging pages. She saw him dressed elegantly in a dark green waistcoat, his hair falling in front of his forehead as his head bent over a large volume. Yet, among these images she could not find his face or eyes. Usually, she found it effortless, and sometimes entertaining, to create portraits of her acquaintances in her mind, but Mr. Darcy's eluded her. She could not envision his features, and though she was reluctant to do so, she admitted to herself that she longed to know them.

Elizabeth smiled softly at the memory of walking Netherfield's paths with him, and conversing on several subjects. She was surprised when he so willingly offered to take her father's place at her side that morning. He had been kind and attentive, but also seemed pleased to hear her opinions on various subjects, and much to Elizabeth's pleasure, did not limit their discourse to topics for polite discussion. In their hour of winding their way through Netherfield's gardens, they had discussed politics, literature, and philosophy. She listened happily to his opinions and descriptions of the landscapes.

Her astonishment increased when he lent her his volume of poetry, and genuinely professed a wish to know her opinions of it. With this thought, Elizabeth moved her fingers over the volume's binding, and resolved to ask her father to read to her the following day so that she might discuss the contents of the book with Mr. Darcy when she next saw him. These happy reflections were suddenly interrupted by the memory of Mr. Collins' words regarding her prospects, and she sighed deeply.

‘Limited prospects!' she thought angrily. ‘Mr. Collins' company is insupportable!'

Quieting her anger with a final touch to the volume's pages, Elizabeth closed it carefully, and returned it to the side table. Pressing her hands to her face, her agitation calmed completely, and she considered Mr. Collins' words carefully.

Closing her eyes, and moving her fingertips over the lids, she whispered sadly, "Perhaps, there is some truth in it."

Elizabeth walked out early the following morning with the hope that the briskness of the air would calm her temper. She wandered toward the far side of the lawn, where she counted her steps to a small copse of oaks. Once in the relative seclusion they provided, she sat down on the damp ground and leaned against the rough bark of a large tree. Placing her palm against the thick moss beneath her, she smiled.

"Come, we will rest on this old mossy bridge," she repeated softly.

Occupied with remembering the lines that followed, Elizabeth did not hear the approach of her father.

"Excellent, my dear" he said happily as he entered the small wooded circle. "Your fondness for Coleridge pleases me immensely."

Elizabeth started when she heard his voice, but quickly composed herself and turned toward him to smile.

"Good morning, Papa," she answered cheerfully.

"Good morning, Lizzy. You are out very early this morning, for I have usually returned from my walk before you have arrived downstairs. Oh, but perhaps I have lost my way today and forgotten the time," he stated pleasantly.

Elizabeth smiled and declared, "No, indeed, sir. You are as punctual as ever. I was a little restless, and woke earlier this morning."

Mr. Bennet smiled, and took up a seat on a nearby bench. Studying his daughter for a moment, he noted that she looked pale and tired. Hoping to cheer her, he took up a topic he knew they would both find entertaining.

"How do you find your cousin, Lizzy? I must admit, I was pleasantly surprised by his lack of wit," he said cheerfully.

Elizabeth tensed for a moment then exclaimed, "He is perfectly ridiculous, Papa!"

Mr. Bennet nodded approvingly, and observed that, perhaps, Mr. Collins would improve over the next week.

"He may need less wholesome discussion, and I believe we can depend upon your younger sisters and mother for that. He will be talking of idle gossip before week's end," Mr. Bennet teased.

Elizabeth smirked before adding, "And they may even convince him to read a novel."

Her father laughed heartily at this, and acknowledged that Mr. Collins had apprised him of his opinion of literature almost the moment he entered Longbourn's library.

"He was much put out by my volumes of poetry," Mr. Bennet continued seriously. "He said I was inviting mischief in my daughters. Whatever did he mean by that?"

Elizabeth shook her head in resignation and stated, "It seems Lady Catherine does not approve of young ladies reading such things."

Mr. Bennet nodded gravely and proclaimed, "Well then, if Lady Catherine deems them improper, I shall burn them directly!"

Elizabeth turned toward him in surprise, and Mr. Bennet laughed quietly at her alarmed expression. She remained puzzled for a moment, but soon smiled slightly.

"Really, Papa," she admonished him gently. "Jane is correct; you are incorrigible."

"Ah, do not be unsettled, my dear. I have far too great a love for my library to see all of its contents done away with." he said happily. "Shall we return to the house for breakfast then, and enjoy more of your cousin's conversation?"

Elizabeth smirked slightly and stood from her place on the ground as she dusted the remnants of dry leaves off her skirts. She turned, and Mr. Bennet took his place beside her.

"Lizzy, the poem you were reciting earlier; I do not believe we have read that one yet," he stated curiously. "However did you hear of it?"

Elizabeth blushed and quickly stated, "I heard it while we were at Netherfield."

Mr. Bennet turned in surprise and exclaimed, "Then you did have some intelligent discussion during your stay!"

Elizabeth smiled and answered, "Indeed I did."

With this, they crossed the lawn toward the house in companionable silence.

It became apparent at breakfast that Lydia's desire to venture into Meryton was not abated by her hours of sleep. Catherine happily assented, and the two sisters set to convincing the others to join them.

"But you simply must come with us," Lydia cried. "You have yet to meet Denny, and he will surely be about!"

Mary was the first to answer, proclaiming that she would much rather stay at home. Setting her fork aside she declared, "I find the company of a good book much more enjoyable than talk of laces and redcoats."

Lydia looked affronted and shocked by this admission, and quickly set to pressing her elder sisters.

"Lizzy, Jane, surely you will join us. We can promise the company will be much more pleasant," Lydia said looking pointedly at Mr. Collins who seemingly heard none of their discourse as he was quite occupied with his meal.

Elizabeth smiled and nodded her agreement, while Jane hushed Lydia. Mrs. Bennet listened to her daughters, and was struck with a plan. After Elizabeth retired the previous evening, Mr. Collins revealed his intention of marrying soon, and God willing, choosing from among Mrs. Bennet's daughters. Upon hearing this, Mrs. Bennet resolved to provide Mr. Collins with as many opportunities as possible during which he could attach himself to one of her younger daughters. With this thought, Mrs. Bennet's eyes brightened happily.

"Mr. Collins," she called. "Would you not like to walk out this morning? The day is very fine, and the way to Meryton is very agreeable."

Mr. Collins swallowed loudly, and declared that he would thoroughly enjoy a walk. Lydia's shoulders fell noticeably, and Catherine coughed nervously. Elizabeth reached for her father's hand, and pressed it urgently in a silent plea for assistance, but Mr. Bennet found the opportunity of having Mr. Collins out of his library for the majority of the morning far too appealing.

Wiping his chin, Mr. Collins declared, "I do not wish to flatter myself, but I am an excellent walker."

"Oh, Lord," Lydia sighed unhappily.

The ladies soon left to ready themselves, and before long the party walked toward Meryton. Elizabeth strolled beside Jane, their arms linked while they talked happily, until they were joined by Mr. Collins. The young curate was far too startled by the liveliness of the youngest Miss Bennets to address them, and so instead, chose to apprise his eldest cousins of the beauties of Rosings Park during the autumn. Jane politely inquired of Mr. Collins about his parish and patroness, while Elizabeth remained resolutely silent, still too displeased with her cousin to answer him civilly.

On entering the small village, Lydia and Catherine's attention was immediately arrested on the store windows, and they skipped happily toward them. Jane and Elizabeth followed, while Mr. Collins walked behind, heartily shocked by his youngest cousins' exuberance in public.

"Look at that bonnet, Lydia!" Catherine exclaimed. "It is rather hideous, but can we not buy it, and see if we can improve it?"

Lydia's distractedly assented as her eyes wandered the street in search of officers. Noticing Mr. Denny not far from them, she turned happily toward her sister.

"Kitty, it is Denny!" she said happily. "Shall we call him over?"

Before their elder sisters could restrain them, the young sisters shouted a happy greeting to the young officer. Jane watched as the Mr. Denny she had heard so much of approached them with another young man.

Turning toward Elizabeth, she said gently, "I believe we are about to meet the very soldiers who have our young sisters so smitten."

Elizabeth smiled and quipped quietly, "If any man were dressed in regimentals, Kitty and Lydia would be smitten. Mr. Collins could wear a redcoat, and they would immediately fall in love him. Are the gentlemen approaching us at least pleasant looking?"

Jane laughed softly, and taking in the fine countenance of the stranger, acknowledged that they were before the gentlemen arrived in front of the party.

"Good day, ladies," Denny greeted happily as he bowed. "I see you were much in the same mind as ourselves, and discovered it was a fine day for a walk."

Denny introduced his friend as Mr. Wickham, and revealed, much to the delight of Lydia and Catherine, that he had recently joined the regiment.

"We will see you often then, Mr. Wickham?" Lydia asked boldly.

Mr. Wickham smiled gallantly and stated, "Indeed you will, Miss Lydia, for I find Meryton's society just to my liking."

Elizabeth smiled at his pleasing address, but her attention was soon arrested by the sound of horses approaching. She was surprised to hear the jovial voice of Mr. Bingley greeting them.

"What a pleasant surprise, for we were just on our way toward Longbourn to inquire after your health, Miss Bennet," he said happily as he leapt from his horse.

Elizabeth listened as his friend dismounted much more elegantly, landing confidently on the ground. She smiled as she heard him approach her.

"Miss Elizabeth, it is a pleasure to see you again," Darcy said as he bowed.

Elizabeth was pleased when he turned toward Jane, and asked if she had fully recovered. Jane affirmed that she had, and entered a discussion with Mr. Bingley. Darcy turned toward Elizabeth, but halted when his eyes encountered the form of Mr. Wickham talking animatedly with the youngest Miss Bennets. Darcy started and his color heightened as his jaw set firmly.

Noticing his silence, Elizabeth's brow furrowed and she asked, "Are you well, Mr. Darcy?"

Upon hearing that man's name, Wickham turned and was surprised to encounter Darcy's eyes on him. Wickham paled, and his hand shook as he touched his hat in salutation. Though Mr. Bingley did not notice what passed between his friend and the stranger, as he was listening amiably to Mr. Collins' descriptions of Hunsford, Jane did, and studied both gentlemen intently. She watched in wonder as Mr. Darcy nodded a vague recognition at Mr. Wickham, then turned his back on him resolutely, and moved to shield Elizabeth from his view.

"Thank you for your concern, but I am well, Miss Elizabeth," Darcy said tersely. "I beg you to excuse me, for I have a pressing matter of business."

Before Elizabeth could answer him, he mounted his horse, and with a final heated glance at Wickham, rode off quickly. Elizabeth listened to his horse's urgent departure, and wondered at Darcy's behavior. Bingley remained only a moment longer, and wishing the company a good day, rode on with his friend.

Jane quickly approached Elizabeth and asked, "Whatever happened to Mr. Darcy?"

Elizabeth answered quietly, "I hardly know, Jane."

The sisters were unaware that Mr. Wickham studied them intently, and only after glancing once more at Darcy's retreating figure, returned to his conversation with Lydia.

Elizabeth was sorely displeased when she heard Lydia loudly declare, "I wish Mr. Darcy would not come into company if he means to be silent all the time. I find him terribly boring! Mr. Wickham, I find it very odd that he did not even seek an acquaintance with you."

"Your concern is admirable, Miss Lydia," Wickham said amiably. "Fear not, I am not affronted by his not wishing to know me. People of Mr. Darcy's status can hardly be expected to converse outside their own circles."

Elizabeth turned fully toward Mr. Wickham, and wondered at his knowing Mr. Darcy's position in society if they had never met. She rationalized that he could have gathered from Mr. Darcy's dress that his income was significant, but she was shocked by Mr. Wickham's bold declaration. Occupied as she was, she was unable to prevent Lydia from inviting the two soldiers to a card party at their Aunt Philip's that evening.

That evening, Elizabeth talked happily with Charlotte, and apprised her of their time spent at Netherfield.

"Jane says that Miss Bingley is very kind and attentive. How did you find her, Lizzy?" Charlotte asked seriously.

Elizabeth sighed and declared, "I fear I am not so gentle a soul as Jane, and found Miss Bingley remarkably disagreeable. The only attention she gave to anyone was directed toward Mr. Darcy, and the poor man attempted to avoid it at every turn!"

Charlotte laughed quietly as she imagined the scene and admitted, "Then I do feel sorry for him; no matter how disagreeable he may be, he does not deserve what you have described."

Elizabeth's brow furrowed, reflecting unhappily on the prejudice that existed against Mr. Darcy. She resolved to tell Charlotte of some of his kindness at Netherfield, but was prevented by the approach of Lady Lucas.

"Charlotte, I am in need of a partner. I was going to ask Mr. Collins, but Mrs. Philips claimed him instead," she declared.

Elizabeth smiled and said, "I believe you may find you are indebted to her, Lady Lucas, for I heard my father complaining that Mr. Collins' skill at cards is severely lacking."

With this intelligence, Lady Lucas turned to observe Mr. Collins, and watched in wonder as he blundered through the game and apologized profusely to the company, professing that a clergyman had little time for card playing. Smiling, Lady Lucas turned back to her daughter and Elizabeth.

"I believe you are right, my dear. In that case, I will happily have Charlotte as my partner," she said hopefully.

Apologizing to Elizabeth for leaving her, Charlotte departed with her mother. Elizabeth laughed softly as she heard her aunt cry out indignantly toward Mr. Collins again. As she stifled her laughter, she heard footfalls approach her, and was surprised to be greeted by Mr. Wickham.

"Good evening, sir," Elizabeth answered pleasantly.

She could not have known that Wickham looked appreciatively at her form before taking the seat beside her. While he found the youngest Miss Bennets lively and amusing, he was intrigued by Elizabeth's beauty and their stories of her.

"Are you not a card player, Mr. Wickham?" Elizabeth asked once he had seated himself.

He smiled and answered, "Sadly, Miss Bennet, I am not. I believe I have always lacked the necessary skills of strategy."

"That is shocking, sir," said Elizabeth merrily. "Is it not important for a soldier to understand strategy? However do you expect to defend us against the French?"

Appreciating Elizabeth's wit, Wickham smiled slightly and humbly declared, "I shall leave the strategy to greater men than myself."

Elizabeth smiled at this, and admitted to herself that Mr. Wickham's manners were, as her sisters had described them, very charming indeed. Several minutes passed pleasantly before Wickham addressed a subject of mutual interest.

"How long have you known Mr. Darcy, Miss Elizabeth?" he asked tentatively, for he had noticed the eagerness with which Darcy greeted her earlier that day.

Momentarily surprised by the inquiry, Elizabeth answered, "Perhaps a month, or a little less."

Wickham smiled and pressed further, asking, "And are you much in company with him?"

Elizabeth wondered to what purpose his questions turned. When they had returned to Longbourn from their walk to Meryton, Jane had immediately informed Elizabeth of the unusual look that passed between Mr. Wickham and Mr. Darcy. The two sisters could not begin to speculate as to the cause, but acknowledged that if the two men were acquainted, they were not on friendly terms. Reflecting on this, Elizabeth answered that she and Mr. Darcy had met several times.

She was surprised when Wickham sighed sullenly and claimed, "I was much in his company throughout my youth, and we went to Cambridge together."

He noticed with satisfaction that Elizabeth started at his declaration before continuing, "You are very surprised I see, and certainly wondering why he did not seek to renew our acquaintance when we met today in the village."

Although she marveled at his addressing such a subject with her after so short an acquaintance, Elizabeth nodded, curious to hear more. Happy that she seemed receptive, Wickham continued.

"You see, Miss Bennet, you must not be distressed by his treatment of me today, for I have no desire to meet with him again," Wickham stated seriously.

After pausing dramatically and watching with pleasure how Elizabeth's brow furrowed in wonder, he continued, "You see he has done me great wrong, and I do not believe I can ever forgive him for it."

At this, Elizabeth said not a word, but listened in amazement as Mr. Wickham recounted his tale of Mr. Darcy's cruelty toward him. Wickham declared that Darcy had mercilessly turned him away from a living promised to him by the late Mr. Darcy.

"The late Mr. Darcy of Pemberley was the very best of men, Miss Bennet, and unfortunately his son is nothing like him," Wickham stated sadly as he studied her reaction. "I am heartily grieved that my old friend could have so little respect for his father's wishes, and a character so dissolute that it dishonors the name he bears."

Unknowingly, Elizabeth bit her lip fretfully. Taking her silence and expression as acquiescence, Wickham continued abusing Darcy's behavior, all the while maintaining that he would never confront or reveal Mr. Darcy's malice.

"It is very good of you to act in such a way in spite of what you say Mr. Darcy has done," Elizabeth said indifferently.

Shaking his head sadly, Wickham declared, "To reveal Mr. Darcy for what he is would only dishonor his father, and feeling that he viewed me like a second son, I cannot do that to his memory."

Elizabeth remained silent, weighing Wickham's words carefully. Hoping he had completed his tale, she was disappointed when he addressed her again.

Sighing heavily, he declared, "Indeed, Miss Bennet, you find me in my current profession and poverty because of Mr. Darcy. I have thought on it for some time, and have determined that almost all of his actions can be traced to his pride. I fear pride is his most trusted company, and I understand from your younger sisters, that you have all witnessed it in him during his time in Hertfordshire."

Elizabeth's jaw set tightly at this statement, and she turned unhappily in the direction of Lydia's boisterous laughter. Breathing deeply to quell her annoyance with her sister's recklessness, she declared, "I have not yet witnessed any improper pride in him, Mr. Wickham."

Wickham looked surprised and disconcerted by the vehemence with which she spoke, but recovered and stated, "Then I am happy for it, Miss Bennet, for to treat someone as kind and open as you would be a sin, indeed."

She thanked him quietly for his compliment, but said no more. She reflected on his story, and while troubled by his claims, could not so easily give credit to them.

‘Surely, Mr. Darcy would not act in such a way,' she thought hopefully. ‘He would have far too great a love for his father as to deny Mr. Wickham so heartlessly.'

Unsettled by his companion's silence, Wickham attempted once more to draw Elizabeth out stating, "I must take heart, for Mr. Darcy will surely leave for London soon."

The effect of this statement was immediate, and Elizabeth turned toward him quickly to inquire what would take Mr. Darcy to London.

Wickham smiled smugly and declared, "Why, so he may prepare for his wedding to Miss Anne de Bourgh. Surely, Mr. Collins has mentioned the engagement. Lady Catherine, and undoubtedly the whole of Mr. Darcy's family, awaits the event with anticipation.

Leaning toward her, Wickham stated quietly, "Miss de Bourgh will inherit a very large fortune, and one must suppose that Lady Catherine and Mr. Darcy hope to unite their two great estates."

Elizabeth paled and said, "No, I do not believe Mr. Collins has mentioned it."

With a look of feigned surprise, Wickham declared, "Well, that is very curious. Perhaps, it has not yet been announced in the papers."

Elizabeth did not answer him, but was far too occupied with thoughts of his latest revelation. When Lydia ran heedlessly toward them to collect Wickham for a game of whist, Elizabeth did not protest. Standing from his seat next to her, Wickham bowed gallantly and wished her a pleasant evening. Elizabeth nodded her farewell indifferently, before turning her face from him. Noting her troubled expression, Wickham smiled triumphantly, and followed Lydia across the room.

When the Bennets returned to Longbourn that evening, and Mr. Collins retired to bed, for his game of whist quite did him in, the whole of Mr. Wickham's sad tale was animatedly discussed by the youngest Miss Bennets and Mrs. Bennet. Elizabeth listened unhappily as Lydia recounted the story, emphasizing how heartily sorry she felt for Wickham.

"I knew from the moment we met him at the Meryton Assembly that Mr. Darcy was an abominable man," Mrs. Bennet cried indignantly. "Did I not tell you so, Mr. Bennet?"

"Yes you did, my dear, but Mr. Darcy may turn out to be no worse that your average rich man," Mr. Bennet stated calmly.

"But Mr. Wickham is so charming! How could someone treat him in such a way?" Lydia asked indignantly.

"Indeed, he is, my love," answered Mrs. Bennet. "And such a fine figure too; if only he had five or six thousand a year I would be happy to see him married to any of you."

Catherine nodded her head fervently and exclaimed, "He has nothing though on account of Mr. Darcy!"

Mr. Bennet laughed softly and declared, "With Mr. Wickham's narrative so easily accessible, why should I read novels? It was very good of him to share it, for villains as evil as Mr. Darcy are so very rare nowadays."

Elizabeth bit her tongue to quell her desire to shout at their ignorance, wishing desperately to defend Mr. Darcy. She turned urgently toward Jane, and Jane immediately perceived her discomfort.

"Papa, Mr. Darcy was very kind to us during our stay at Netherfield," Jane said gently.

Mr. Bennet looked at his eldest in surprise and asked, "Is that so? If he was I shall be very disappointed, for it would so cheapen Mr. Wickham's tale."

Nodding her head adamantly, Elizabeth declared, "We witnessed nothing in Mr. Darcy's behavior like what Mr. Wickham described."

Mr. Bennet looked quizzically at his second eldest, and reflected on the strength with which she spoke. Before he had the opportunity to answer, Lydia rose angrily from her seat.

Not enjoying hearing her favorite officer so easily doubted, she quickly revealed, "But Mr. Wickham says Mr. Darcy is so rich, that he can give the appearance of goodness wherever he chooses!"

Catherine happily joined her exclaiming, "Undoubtedly, he has imposed upon Mr. Bingley! How else can you explain Mr. Bingley's liking him?"

Mrs. Bennet agreed heartily with her daughter's conjecture, and Mr. Bennet stared thoughtfully into the fire. Elizabeth waited anxiously, hoping her father would not so easily condemn Mr. Darcy, and was surprised when her father revealed that the man himself would be at Longbourn the following day. Lydia cried out indignantly, and Mrs. Bennet gazed at her husband in wonder.

"Whatever his sins may be, he and Mr. Bingley are joining me for shooting tomorrow, and I expect Mr. Darcy to at least be treated civilly," Mr. Bennet stated firmly before standing from his seat, and leaving the room.

Elizabeth listened thoughtfully to the door close heavily behind him, while her younger sisters bemoaned their father's inviting the gentleman to their home.

‘He will come tomorrow then,' Elizabeth thought uneasily.

She felt Jane reach for her hand, and Elizabeth accepted the gesture happily, clasping her sister's hand firmly in an attempt to quiet the turmoil in her mind.

An hour later found Jane sitting in front of the fire, brushing out her hair and gazing pensively into the flames. Like Elizabeth, she was unsettled by Mr. Wickham's claims, and though she did not doubt Mr. Darcy so easily as her mother and younger sisters, she felt uneasy and worried for Mr. Bingley's welfare. Her thoughts were interrupted by a light knock at her door, and she turned expectantly when it opened.

"May I enter, Jane?" Elizabeth asked softly so as not to wake anyone.

Jane smiled and answered, "Of course, Lizzy."

Jane watched as Elizabeth entered and closed the door quietly behind her. She was surprised when Elizabeth passed her usual seat on the bed, and instead began pacing agitatedly across the room. Elizabeth wrung her hands, and opened her mouth to speak, but thought the better of it, and continued pacing. Worried about her sister's uncharacteristic nervousness, Jane reached out a hand to touch Elizabeth's arm in the hope it would calm her movement.

"Dare I ask the subject of your thoughts?" Jane inquired gently.

Elizabeth turned toward Jane, and stated tightly, "I am only disappointed over our sisters' unswerving devotion to redcoats."

Jane smiled slightly, and pulled Elizabeth down to sit next to her. Looking toward her sister, Jane asked, "Whatever did you and Mr. Wickham talk of for so long this evening?"

Elizabeth turned unhappily toward Jane and said, "At first, nothing of consequence, but then he related the whole of his history with Mr. Darcy."

Jane's eyes widened and she stated curiously, "I find it shocking he told such a story in company at all. I wonder what he hoped to gain by it."

Elizabeth sighed in frustration, and turned her face toward the fire, allowing the warmth of the flames to soothe her.

"From what you have told me," Jane observed quietly, "Mr. Darcy's manners are perfectly amiable."

Elizabeth nodded gravely and added, "As I said to our father, I never saw anything untoward in Mr. Darcy's behavior while we were at Netherfield."

Jane bit her lip nervously and tentatively ventured, "Yes, but can we be so certain of him after so short an acquaintance?"

Elizabeth reared unhappily toward her sister, and asked hotly, "You would have me be certain of Mr. Wickham instead? Is not he an even shorter acquaintance?"

Jane shook her head and explained, "No, Lizzy, you misunderstand me. I would have you do no such thing. I would only remind you that you have known Mr. Darcy less than a month. We cannot paint his character so completely that it makes Mr. Wickham's story entirely suspect. For instance, how can we account for Mr. Darcy's behavior at the Meryton Assembly? He remained distant the entire evening, sought no new acquaintances, and offended everyone with his incivility."

Elizabeth remained silent, considering Jane's words as she continued, "Our mother told me of his resolute silence during their visit to Netherfield, Lizzy. Is it wise to so easily dismiss his reticence?"

Jane studied her sister, and watched as Elizabeth turned her head thoughtfully toward the ground.

After a moment, Elizabeth raised her face and said, "I would not have you believe me ignorant of those things, Jane, and that I trust his character implicitly, but I cannot so easily dismiss Mr. Darcy's kindness toward me."

Jane's brow furrowed, and she asked, "What kindness are you speaking of, Lizzy? Do you mean his walking with you?"

Elizabeth colored slightly as she reluctantly explained to Jane how Darcy had showed such concern for her that morning, and had seemed willing to do all that was within his power to bring her comfort.

"It is witnessing such attentiveness on Mr. Darcy's part that makes me question Mr. Wickham's claims. Would a man capable of such cruelty toward a friend act so kindly toward a stranger?" Elizabeth asked.

"You told him of the fever, Lizzy?" Jane asked in astonishment, ignoring Elizabeth's question.

Elizabeth smiled and declared quietly, "I did, Jane. I would not have him misunderstand me as so many others do."

Jane opened her mouth to reply, but closed it promptly in confusion. While Jane felt comforted knowing that during her illness Mr. Darcy had treated her sister kindly, she also felt alarmed by his attentions. Jane recalled his steady gaze on Elizabeth the first day they had met him, and his talking with her happily at Sir William's party. Looking toward her sister, Jane noticed Elizabeth pulling at her shall distractedly, and a light blush coloring her face. Recognizing the very great danger Elizabeth faced, Jane quickly grew concerned that her sister was, perhaps unknowingly, becoming attached. Resolving to study Mr. Darcy's behavior the following day, Jane patted Elizabeth's hand softly.

"It is a horrible business," Jane stated gently. "One knows not what to think. Perhaps, there has been some terrible mistake? I believe it is possible that the entirety of this unhappy business is all a misunderstanding."

Elizabeth smiled at this evidence of Jane's gentle nature, and professed, "If only we were all as good as you, Jane, there would be no conflicts in the world."

Jane looked away, a slight smile gracing her face as she declared, "You are always teasing me, Lizzy."

"I do not tease you!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "It is true, but for now, I will go on thinking of each of the gentlemen exactly as I had before," Elizabeth stated firmly.

Jane answered, "I believe that is wise, Lizzy. Tomorrow may even provide you with an opportunity to speak with Mr. Darcy on the subject."

Elizabeth laughed lightly at Jane's hopefulness, and bent to kiss her on the forehead as she stood from her seat.

Moving toward the door, Elizabeth said, "Perhaps, you are right, Jane."

Wishing her sister a final good night, Elizabeth closed the door behind her and made her way to her own chamber. Once there, she made her way to the window, and felt for the soft cushion of the chair beside it. Elizabeth sat heavily, and recounted Mr. Wickham's story again. While she did not give credit to Mr. Wickham's story of Mr. Darcy's cruelty, she remained troubled by the news that Mr. Darcy was engaged. Unsettled as she was by the idea, she could not yet relate it to Jane, and was displeased when she felt her hands quaking slightly. Clasping them together, Elizabeth rested her chin upon them, and breathed deeply to quell the emotions that came unbidden.

"Do not act so irrationally, Lizzy," she whispered bitterly. "His engagement is of no consequence."

Despite this assertion, she felt the heavy weight of disappointment descend on her. Even though Mr. Collins had insisted Miss de Bourgh was of a sickly nature, Elizabeth could not help but envision a vibrant, blithe young woman in elegant dress with an enchanting smile. Elizabeth imagined Mr. Darcy smiling happily at his bride, and bowing gallantly to kiss her hand as they greeted their guests happily. With a sigh of frustration, Elizabeth slammed her eyes against the invading image, and drew her knees up to her chest.

Tiredly resting her forehead against them, Elizabeth mumbled, "I am a foolish being. However will I meet him tomorrow with equanimity?"

Sitting back in her chair, Elizabeth shook her head, and was heartily surprised when she felt her cheeks begin to dampen with tears. Covering her face, she rested her head against her knees again, and wept softly in frustration