Seen and Unseen ~ Section X

    By Kim B.

    Beginning, Previous Section, Section X, Next Section

    Chapter 31: An Interview Anticipated

    Posted on 2008-11-08

    Later that evening, Elizabeth entered her uncle's house silently, though the rest of the company chattered happily. She moved her arm from the circle of Jane's, so that she might remove her cloak, for the heat of the foyer overcame her quickly. Lowering the garment from her shoulders, she quietly thanked the young maid who arrived to retrieve it. Pulling at her gloves in frustration, she guided them down from her elbows, welcoming the chilled air against her skin.

    She listened as her uncle declared happily, "What an agreeable evening that was."

    Mrs. Gardiner smiled pleasantly and added, "And agreeable company."

    "Indeed!" Mr. Gardiner exclaimed. "Mr. Darcy was kindness itself, and his sister the model of gentility."

    Jane smiled softly, and glancing briefly toward her sister, said, "I would welcome being in their company often."

    Mrs. Gardiner smiled happily, knowing the direction of her niece's thoughts. Moving toward Elizabeth, she inquired, "Did you enjoy the performance, Lizzy?"

    Not wishing to draw the concern of her aunt and uncle, and most especially Jane, Elizabeth smiled valiantly and declared, "It was truly lovely."

    "I am happy you recovered from your dizziness, for I would not have wished you to miss it," her aunt said, pressing her niece's hand affectionately before turning her attention to her maid and instructing her to see that the fires in the bedrooms were stoked.

    Thankful for her aunt's distraction, Elizabeth blushed furiously as she remembered Mr. Darcy's kindness to her throughout the evening. She smiled, her mind naturally returning to those happy moments alone with Mr. Darcy, and recalling the feeling of his touch, carefully tracing the lines of her face. She inhaled sharply and bit her lip lightly as she remembered the light caress of his thumb along her lip.

    Noticing her sister's reticence, Jane pressed her arm lightly and declared, "Perhaps you should retire, Lizzy. You do look flushed, and I would not wish to have you overexert yourself."

    Coloring further at having her inattention noticed so easily, Elizabeth answered, "I believe you are right."

    After thanking their aunt and uncle for their continued hospitality, Jane and Elizabeth ascended the stairs to prepare themselves for the night. Jane kissed her sister's cheek lightly, and promised to return to her so that they might speak about the evening. Elizabeth listened as Jane entered her own room, and sighing deeply, she reached forward and pushed her door open slowly. Entering the room, she closed the door noiselessly and counted her steps to the bed. Tossing her gloves aside, she sat heavily upon the soft mattress. Not wishing to call for the assistance of her aunt's maid, she slowly pulled the pins from her dark hair, undoing the carefully created curls and twists. When she felt the last heavy tendril fall to her shoulder, she set the pins aside, and drew her legs up to her chest. Laying her forehead against her knees, she thought on the evening.

    She had listened to the remainder of the performance distractedly, her mind utterly occupied with Mrs. Thornton's suppositions. Mr. Darcy continued his attentions toward her, asking her often if she felt too warm or cool. She had smiled at him with each of his concerned inquiries, and gently made known that she was quite well. When the music ceased, the final peals of sound echoing through the hall before dissipating, Elizabeth clapped appreciatively.

    "Did you enjoy it?" he had asked her eagerly, his face close to her ear so that she would hear him above the crowd's applause.

    She nodded vehemently and declared, "I did indeed, sir. Thank you for giving us the opportunity to attend."

    "It is a pleasure I hope to have repeated often," he said quietly.

    Elizabeth imagined that a small smile lightened his handsome features, and feeling a light blush rise to her cheeks, she smiled shyly. She felt his hand approach her own, his fingers gently brushing hers and willing them to clasp his surely. She could do naught but return his grasp, and hearing him rise from his seat, she stood as well and smiled brightly, for the unhappy words of Mrs. Thornton, her daughter and Miss Bingley were briefly forgotten.

    A gentle knock on her door caused Elizabeth to startle, and raising her head from her knees, she called lightly, "Come in."

    Jane peeked around the door, her hair released and falling in a gentle wave about her shoulders, and her light blue gown discarded and traded for her heavy dressing gown. Noticing that her sister had yet to ready herself for bed, Jane frowned slightly and quickly moved to her side.

    "Lizzy, why have you not changed?" she asked worriedly. "You will surely catch cold. Your arms are bare without your gloves; at least put a shawl about your shoulders."

    Elizabeth smiled at her sister's worry and declared, "You are perfectly right, Jane."

    With that, she stood from her seat, and placing her hand on the bed, followed its line to the trunk at its foot. Wishing to hear her sister's opinions on the evening, Elizabeth asked as she released the fastenings of her gown, "Did you enjoy the evening, dear sister?"

    Jane blushed slightly, her mind returning to Mr. Bingley's attentiveness to her conversation during the intermission, and answered, "I did indeed."

    Elizabeth smiled mischievously as she pulled her heavy nightgown over her head and continued, "You seemed quite happy, especially after the intermission."

    "I cannot imagine what you mean," she said, her color heightening more.

    Noting that Elizabeth arched her brow expectantly and smiled smugly, Jane tucked her feet securely beneath her and focused her attention on the coverlet to calm her racing heart. "Oh, Lizzy; I cannot tell you what I felt when I saw him coming toward us," she admitted quietly.

    Plaiting her hair quickly, and securing a coarse wool shawl about her shoulders, Elizabeth smiled broadly and made her way toward her sister. Jane took Elizabeth's hand tightly in her own and drew her down to sit beside her. Pressing her hand in empathy, Elizabeth smiled comfortingly.

    "At least your first meeting is over," she reminded Jane quietly. "I cannot imagine that the next one will be nearly as shocking."

    Jane smiled slightly and asked, "Do you believe so, Lizzy?"

    "I do," Elizabeth said confidently, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms about them. "For I believe he is as much in love with you as ever."

    Swatting gently at Elizabeth's arm, Jane exclaimed, "Lizzy; you should not speak so! What if someone should hear you?"

    Listening closely and discerning no footsteps in the hallway, Jane continued, "Besides, we cannot know what he is truly feeling after he departed from our company so quickly in the autumn."

    "Dearest Jane," Elizabeth said evenly. "I would not wish to offend your sensibilities, but I must speak frankly."

    Jane's brow furrowed slightly as Elizabeth pressed on, confessing, "I still believe Mr. Bingley's leaving us was the result of his sisters' influence."

    "We have spoken of this already... " Jane began, for she did not wish to discuss the wounds she still fought to heal, but she was silenced by Elizabeth taking her hand.

    "I would speak of it again, Jane," she said firmly. "I would not have you doubting Mr. Bingley's affections. When he met with you this evening, he seemed entirely enamored."

    Jane shook her head slightly, and looking speculatively at Elizabeth, asked, "And what leads you to that conclusion?"

    "It was in his voice," Elizabeth said sadly, her mind recalling her sister's disappointment over the past weeks, and feeling that perhaps Bingley had felt the same disappointment.

    Sighing heavily, Jane rose from her seat and moved toward the fire. Elizabeth listened to the light tread of her sister's slippered feet and continued, "You ought to believe me."

    Jane bit her lip thoughtfully, staring into the flames and squinting slightly at its bright glow. After some moments, she turned back to Elizabeth and declared shyly, "I cannot deny that I am quite happy to have the opportunity to become reacquainted with him."

    "I am happy to hear that," Elizabeth said lightly, a wide smile spreading across her face.

    Returning to her seat beside Elizabeth, Jane confessed, "I hope we will have the opportunity to meet with him again before we depart."

    Reflecting that she had no doubt Mr. Darcy would see that Mr. Bingley was in their company again, Elizabeth smiled slightly. "I believe we shall, for I heard our uncle inviting him to luncheon tomorrow." she said quietly.

    Though she felt certain her sister smiled happily, Elizabeth's own smile fell suddenly as her mind returned to her earlier reflections. Releasing her legs, she allowed herself to fall backward, and in an effort to hide the tears she felt pricking her eyes, she turned her face away from Jane.

    This action was not lost on Jane, and leaning forward, she rested her chin on Elizabeth's shoulder. Recalling how quickly Elizabeth's good humor had diminished following the intermission, Jane inquired worriedly, "Has something happened, Lizzy?"

    Closing her eyes tightly, and willing the tears she felt welling within them to lessen, she shook her head and said sadly, "Oh, Jane; I do not know what to think."

    Hearing the despair in her sister's voice, Jane quickly wound her arms around Elizabeth and rocked her gently, asking tentatively, "Did something happen with Mr. Darcy this evening?"

    "No," Elizabeth answered quietly, her throat tightening painfully and voice cracking slightly with the effort. "No, he was everything that was good and attentive."

    "Then what is it, dearest?" Jane pressed as she moved her hand along Elizabeth's arm in the hope of giving her some comfort.

    Shivering slightly, and smiling ruefully, she said, "He is to visit tomorrow."

    "That is nothing untoward, and it is certainly not something that should upset you so," Jane declared, her brow rising in astonishment.

    Pressing her cheek against Jane's arm and closing her eyes, Elizabeth added softly, "He asked if I would grant him a private interview."

    Jane's eyes widened in surprise before lightening happily, and she exclaimed excitedly, "He must mean to declare himself!"

    Though this was the first time she heard those happy words said aloud, Elizabeth could not rejoice at them, for her mind still echoed with not only the cruel words she had heard earlier that evening, but also her own concerns. Sighing heavily, she allowed her tears to flow freely down her cheeks where they dampened Jane's dressing down.

    "Lizzy!" Jane declared in surprise. "What is it, dearest? I would have thought his proposing is what you wished."

    Jane watched as Elizabeth rose slowly from her position and pressed her hands to her pale cheeks in an obvious effort to calm herself. Biting her lip fretfully, and feeling her own chest tighten painfully for her sister's distress, Jane continued quietly, "Is it not?"

    Elizabeth closed her eyes slowly, feeling a few warm tears trail down her cold cheeks. Nodding slightly, she confessed simply, "It is."

    "Then what has caused this," Jane declared, pressing Elizabeth hand tightly and reaching her other forward to wipe some of Elizabeth's tears.

    "How can I possibly accept him, Jane?" Elizabeth asked despairingly, her voice cracking noticeably and fresh tears spilling from her eyes.

    Jane's eyes widened in surprise, and shaking her head incredulously, she asked, "Whatever do you mean? Why would you refuse such an offer?"

    Elizabeth stood from her seat, sighing in frustration and moving toward the fireplace. Pausing at the hearth, she crossed her arms tightly in an effort to ward off the growing chill she felt. Closing her eyes, she reflected that even in his absence, she had not felt such despair as she felt now with the prospect of refusing that which would give her the greatest happiness.

    Laying a hand against her forehead, and making no attempt to stop the flow of tears, Elizabeth whispered, "I love him, Jane; so completely, so entirely."

    Watching Elizabeth carefully, Jane noted that her body shook with the force of her despair. Her mouth falling into an unhappy line, Jane asked, "And this is what worries you?"

    Nodding slowly and opening her eyes, Elizabeth declared, "It is, Jane."

    Hearing Jane's gentle breathing and having no doubt she awaited an explanation, Elizabeth sighed despondently and continued, "I cannot secure my own happiness at the expense of his; an alliance with me would ruin him."

    "How could you think such a thing, Lizzy?" Jane inquired, standing from her seat and moving quickly to Elizabeth's side. "How can you believe you would be his ruin?"

    Unwilling to ignore her station and condition in life, Elizabeth sighed in exasperation and cried, "Look at me, Jane! I would be foolish to believe I would be readily welcomed by those who the future Mrs. Darcy is expected to be acquainted with."

    Stepping back from the hearth, Elizabeth began to pace slightly, and wringing her hands in agitation, she continued, "He would undoubtedly come to regret such an alliance, and I cannot begin to imagine what his family would say to such a match. I would not see them abandon him because of me."

    "It seems Miss Darcy adores you," Jane offered quietly, her eyes wide with worry as they followed Elizabeth's path across the rug.

    Smiling slightly at the memory of the uncertain young woman she had come to know, before frowning sadly and declaring, "I could do no good for her; she will require guidance in these next few years. She needs someone to sponsor her and lead her through her season."

    Remembering Miss Thornton's observation at the orchestra, Elizabeth sighed and added quietly, "And a woman who has no knowledge of society would not be able to provide her with the guidance she requires. Having a sister such as myself would only harm her chances at an advantageous marriage."

    "Stop this, Lizzy," Jane declared firmly, taking the few steps to Elizabeth's side and grasping her arms firmly to halt her pacing, for she felt she had never heard her speak so of herself. "You have so much to offer them."

    Feeling what little control she still possessed leave her, Elizabeth cried anew and fell against Jane, pressing her face into her sister's shoulder as her own shook uncontrollably.

    "But I do not believe it is enough," Elizabeth said, her voice cracking with the force of her emotion.

    Jane listened wretchedly, reflecting that she had never witnessed such emotion in her sister following her blindness, for Elizabeth had taken great pains to restrain her despair in an effort to shield her family from further worry. Unable to act otherwise or think how to respond, Jane's arms quickly encircled Elizabeth's form to embrace her tightly. For some moments, the two sisters stood in silence, the room filling with only the sounds of the timber cracking in the fireplace and Elizabeth's unsteady breathing as she fought for composure. Jane rubbed her hand along Elizabeth's quaking shoulders, attempting to give her comfort.

    ‘Breathe,' Elizabeth reminded herself, willing the ache in her throat and chest to ease and her tears to dry.

    Raising her head from Jane's shoulder and stepping back slightly, Elizabeth passed her fingers over her cheeks to remove the dampness there. Sighing deeply, she declared sadly, "I do not know how I will meet with him tomorrow."

    "You are determined to refuse him then, should he ask you?" Jane asked, her light eyes studying her sister carefully.

    Pressing her hands to her cheeks and remembering the feeling of his fingertips moving along her jaw and brow, her breath caught, and she declared, "I do not know what I am. All I know is I could not bear to see whatever feelings or respect he has for me to be lost."

    Reaching for Elizabeth's hands and lowering them, Jane pressed them gently and declared, "If Mr. Darcy has determined that you are his choice, I do not believe that the possible arguments against the match would alter his regard for you."

    Placing a finger gently beneath her sister's chin, Jane willed Elizabeth to raise her face fully before continuing, "Trust him to know his own mind and desires, Lizzy. But I believe that his affection for you would outweigh anything else. Do not disregard how steady a man he is."

    Realizing that Elizabeth's decision must be made on her own, Jane lightly kissed her sister's cheek before bidding her a good night. Elizabeth listened to Jane's light footsteps retreating toward the door, and declared quietly, "Thank you, Jane."

    Jane smiled slightly and replied, "We will speak more in the morning, dearest."

    With that, she slipped quietly into the hallway, closing the door soundly behind her. Elizabeth listened to the door handle click into place, and drawing a long breath, she pressed her eyes shut as a single tear rolled down her right cheek. Wiping it away quickly, she moved slowly toward the bed, her limbs heavy from her despair and want of respite. Moving her hand along the coverlet and finding its lightly embroidered edge, Elizabeth slowly pulled down the layers of linens before climbing in beneath them. Settling her head against the pillow, she listened closely, hearing only the occasional heavy footfalls of horses on the street below. Closing her eyes in an attempt to ease her racing mind, she envisioned Mr. Darcy holding her hand lightly within his own before kneeling and speaking earnestly to her. She felt his lips grazing her knuckles lightly, and she shivered at the intimacy of the scene. She wished desperately that it might be so, yet felt frightened by the prospect, for though Jane's words had lessened her unease somewhat, Elizabeth could not dispel her worry over the repercussions Mr. Darcy would face as a result of choosing her for his wife.

    "His wife," she whispered in wonder as she lifted the quilt securely to her chin.

    Sighing heavily, she turned, tucking her hands beneath her head. She spent the remainder of the evening restlessly, her mind constantly turning between accepting him and the happiness she would feel in doing so, and denying him in an attempt to shield him from the incivility she so often faced. When she rose in the morning, Elizabeth tiredly crossed the room to bathe her face. She lowered her hands into the cool water before passing them over her flushed skin. She welcomed the chill that accompanied the action, feeling the heat of her cheeks lessen somewhat. After drying her face, she pressed her hand to her forehead, her brow furrowing in apprehension as she felt its significant warmth. Shaking her head in frustration, she determined that she had caught a cold.

    "Foolish Lizzy," she said lightly, securing her shawl more tightly about her shoulders.

    Laying the towel aside, she made her way toward her trunk, and kneeling before it, she moved her fingers over the dresses within, feeling their necklines and stitching to determine which one was the deep blue muslin. Finding it, she gathered it up in her arms and held it closely to her chest, clasping it there and reflecting on how she might answer Mr. Darcy. She remained so until she heard her aunt's maid greet her happily and inform her that breakfast was prepared.

    "Do you feel yourself equal to it, Miss Elizabeth? Your aunt mentioned you might have caught a chill the other day, and would wish instead to have something brought to you," the young woman declared, studying her mistress' niece in concern.

    "I feel quite well," Elizabeth answered.

    The young woman nodded, her light eyes studying Elizabeth's pale complexion and drawn countenance, and determining that she had slept very little the previous night. Feeling that Elizabeth was not as well as she professed, the young maid quickly offered to help her ready herself for the day, so that she might not exhaust what strength she had. As Elizabeth smiled and thanked her, the maid crossed the room and relieved Elizabeth of the gown before laying it upon the bed and smoothing out the creases.

    Moving her hands over the fabric and straightening the sleeves, the maid declared lightly, "I will be certain that Mrs. Smith prepares a fine soup for luncheon. That and some tea will help set you to rights in no time."

    Elizabeth nodded slightly and answered, "I am sure you are right."

    A half hour later found Elizabeth descending the stairs carefully, running her hand along the wooden banister. On reaching the final step, she heard her sister greet her gently.

    "Good morning, Lizzy," Jane declared tentatively.

    Feeling certain her sister worried for her after the previous night, Elizabeth smiled slightly, hoping her exhaustion was not too apparent, and said, "Good morning, Jane."

    Studying her sister carefully, Jane linked her arm through Elizabeth's, and began moving toward the dining room. "Did you sleep well?" Jane asked quietly.

    Having no doubt Jane knew the answer, Elizabeth sighed softly and remained silent. She felt Jane press her arm in empathy before declaring, "All will be well, Lizzy."

    Without answering, Elizabeth laid her head against Jane's shoulder, drawing comfort from her sister's presence.

    A small smile spread across Georgiana's young face, brightening her light brown eyes noticeably. She shook her head slightly in amusement as she watched her brother stare distractedly at the newspaper he held. Reflecting that he had not turned the page in nearly fifteen minutes, and he seemed entirely unaware that his breakfast lay in front of him, she wondered what had diverted his attention so entirely. She studied him carefully as she buttered her toast, taking in his attire and mien, and determined that his appearance was no less impeccable than it had ever been. Glancing up at his countenance, she noticed a light blush covered his cheeks, and he fought to keep a broad smile from his face. Her eyes danced merrily at his seeming lack of composure, feeling that she had never seen him so.

    Resting a light hand on his forearm, she declared, "Are we to have no conversation this morning, Fitzwilliam?"

    Starting at the sound of her voice, Darcy blushed furiously when he raised his dark eyes to hers and noticed she bit back a laugh at his inattention. Clearing his throat and setting his newspaper aside, he smiled slightly.

    "Forgive me, dearest," he answered. "My mind has been much occupied."

    Patting his hand comfortingly, she said, "You are forgiven."

    Darcy eyed her suspiciously, noting that her eyes had yet to waver from him and a small grin played across her features. His brow furrowing slightly, he inquired lightly, "And what, might I ask, about me inspires such study?"

    "Nothing at all," she answered evenly, her smile broadening. "Tell me, dear brother; did you have a pleasant evening last night?"

    Recalling the feeling of Elizabeth's soft skin beneath his fingertips, he blushed at the memory of his audacity, but unable to regret it, he smiled happily and declared, "I did indeed. I thought it quite pleasant. Did you enjoy furthering your acquaintance with the Miss Bennets and Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner?"

    Leaning forward excitedly, Georgiana said happily, "Oh, Fitzwilliam; they are so kind to me. They are not at all intimidating and I must admit that I feel quite comfortable speaking with them."

    Darcy smiled contently, pleased to hear his sister so enjoying her new acquaintances. Turning his attention to his now tepid coffee, he grimaced when he tasted the bitterness of the brew. Georgiana giggled slightly at his discomfiture, and quickly offered to refresh his cup. He thanked her, and watched as she moved toward the sideboard, taking up a new delicate cup, and pouring out the steaming liquid from the fine silver pot.

    "I see your mind is so occupied with thoughts of Miss Elizabeth, that you have forgotten to eat," Georgiana declared wryly.

    Looking down at his hands, and curling his napkin nervously, he confessed, "You are perfectly right."

    "Will you visit her today?" Georgiana asked tentatively, returning to the table and presenting the hot refreshment to her brother.

    Nodding slightly, he revealed quietly, "I have asked her to grant me a private interview."

    Georgiana beamed happily before throwing her arms about his shoulders and exclaiming, "That is wonderful news! I will welcome her as a sister!"

    Darcy gently unwound her arms, smiling at her excitement, and holding her hands gently, he declared, "She has not yet accepted me. I must wait and see what her feelings are on the matter before I can accept your congratulations."

    Pressing his hands encouragingly, Georgiana said firmly, "I cannot imagine any woman denying you, Fitzwilliam. Miss Elizabeth seems to receive your attentions with pleasure."

    "Miss Elizabeth is not like other women, dearest," he said worriedly.

    Standing from his seat and straightening his waistcoat, he continued, "I have a matter of business I must see to before I depart. Will you excuse me?"

    Resuming her seat, she sighed unhappily and declared, "Very well, but you must tell me everything the moment your return."

    "If her answer is favorable, I promise I shall," Darcy answered, leaning forward and kissing Georgiana lightly on her head.

    Bowing his farewell, he walked swiftly from the room and made his way toward his study. On reaching it, he closed the door and laid his head against the heavy wood in an effort to calm his racing heart.

    ‘Breathe,' his mind demanded. ‘You will never be capable of intelligent speech if you continue in this way.'

    Recognizing the truth in this, Darcy raised his head, and pushing himself away from the door, he moved toward the finely carved mahogany chimneypiece. Clasping his hands firmly behind his back, he gazed determinedly into the flames as his mind replayed all he wished to express to her. He began whispering quietly, repeating the sentiments he had wanted so desperately to say the previous evening. Glancing toward the clock above the mantle, he reflected that the hour was still too early for him to pay his call. Sighing slightly, he fell heavily into his chair, and laid his head back, his eyes falling closed and his body easing.

    He had not found sleep the previous night, his mind too full of the feeling of Elizabeth's cheek against his hand, the vision of her eyes dancing happily during the performance, and the touch of her lips beneath his thumb. Yet among these pleasant images and sensations was the unhappy realization that following the intermission, Elizabeth had spent the remainder of the night in quiet contemplation. His gaze rarely wavered from her countenance once they had reentered the box, and what he saw there concerned him greatly. Her complexion had paled noticeably, and her eyes seemingly glistened with unshed tears. Though he originally believed her discomposure to be due to the chill she had caught the previous day, he could not help but wonder if something had occurred during his absence to unsettle her. Breathing deeply, he opened his dark eyes and leaned forward, clasping his hands and leaning his chin atop them. He prayed quietly that whatever had occurred had not harmed her opinion of him or whatever regard she held for him.

    ‘And do you know of her regard for you?' his mind wondered.

    Smiling slightly, he recalled not only her attentiveness to his conversation, but also the effect his presence seemingly had on her. More than once, he had thought he had seen her shiver at his touch, her fine eyes closing as if to savor the contact.

    "She is at least affected by me as I am by her," he whispered, a wistful smile lightening his dark mien.

    Hearing the chime of the clock in the hallway, he stood from his seat and smoothed the creases from his dark green waistcoat. Adjusting the crisp cuffs that fell to his hands, he walked swiftly out of the room and called for his horse to be saddled.

    Elizabeth sat at the window seat in her uncle's drawing room, listening to the sounds just beyond the glass in front of her. She pressed her hand to the chilled surface, and reflected that regardless of how much she wished to, it would have been folly for her to accompany her aunt and Jane on their outing to the shops. They had encouraged her to remain, for both had noticed her pale countenance, and had worried heartily when they heard her coughing violently following breakfast. Jane had immediately fetched her thickest shawl, and saw that it was securely wrapped about Elizabeth's arms. After seeing that she was comfortably situated in front of the fire with a cup of strong tea, Jane and her aunt had said their farewells and departed, promising to be back before luncheon.

    "Besides," her aunt had declared gently, smiling broadly and eyeing her eldest niece. "I believe Mr. Bingley is to visit us today. I would not have us miss his arrival."

    Elizabeth laughed lightly at the memory, imagining that Jane blushed becomingly at the mention of the young man. Drawing her feet up, Elizabeth reached toward the small table beside her, feeling for the familiar form of Mr. Darcy's volume of Coleridge. Finding it, she quickly drew it toward her, and opening it carefully, smelled its crisp pages, memorizing its musty scent. Reflecting that she would soon have to part with it, she ran her fingers once more along the spine of the work which had been her constant companion since almost the beginning of her acquaintance with him. Holding it close to her chest, she laid her head against the hard window frame and turned her face toward the window.

    She could not have imagined the pleasant picture she presented to Darcy as he arrived in the doorframe. He halted and leaned helplessly against it, overcome by the simple beauty and comfort of the scene and wishing desperately that he could see such a vision repeated in his own home. His eyes traced her reclined frame, reflecting that she looked very well in her gown of deep blue. He watched as one of her small hands raised to her face to tuck an errant tendril of her dark hair behind her delicate ear, and he smiled to see that it refused to remain there. His gaze followed her hand as it returned to her lap and the object she held there, and noting in astonishment that it was the volume he had given her all those weeks ago, his breath caught. He pressed a hand to his heart when he witnessed her press a light kiss to the fine leather binding, and resolved to treasure the volume always. Realizing he must make his presence known, and not wishing to frighten her, he lightly cleared his throat and stepped fully into the room.

    Elizabeth started at the sound, turning quickly in the direction of its origin, and unaware that the volume slid from her lap to the floor. When she heard it bounce a few times before landing with a soft thud, she ignored the presence of her visitor and swiftly moved to kneel on the floor in search of the volume. She blushed furiously, certain that she made a ridiculous picture as she slid her hands slowly across the cold wood floorboards in search of the book. She heard her visitor move toward her, his confident steps falling surely, and his gentle breathing coming nearer. Closing her eyes, she had no doubt who had witnessed her clumsy actions, and sighing slightly, she sat back on her heels and blushed furiously.

    "You will surely regret lending your favorite volume of poetry to so heedless a guardian, Mr. Darcy," she said lightly, hoping her voice remained steady though she felt her heart raced at the knowledge of his presence. "Forgive me for treating it so brutally."

    Kneeling in front of her and taking the small volume up, he gazed at her seriously. She was a mere foot from him, and though he noticed unhappily that she looked quite tired, he was entirely overcome by the warmth he felt radiating from her presence.

    Shaking his head at his distraction, he answered softly, "It was my own fault, Miss Elizabeth. I am afraid my entrance was less than polite."

    Unable to concentrate with him so near, Elizabeth stood from her position, smoothing her skirts and straightening the folds of her shawl. She listened intently as he rose beside her and continued, "The maid was quite occupied with the children and I did not wish to tax her further. I assured her I could find my own way. Please forgive my presumption."

    Smiling slightly, she nodded her acceptance of his apology, and invited him to sit on the settee near the fireplace. She moved tentatively toward it, hearing him follow close behind her. Taking a seat on its soft cushions, she felt him sit a suitable distance from her, and she blushed, remembering the reason for his call.

    "My uncle is occupied with business at his warehouse, and my aunt and Jane have gone to the shops. I am afraid you find me all alone this morning, Mr. Darcy," she declared anxiously, playing distractedly with the edge of her shawl.

    "You did not wish to join them?" Darcy asked quietly, turning his eyes toward the volume in his hands in an effort to recall everything he wished to tell her, and quietly thanking Providence for his good fortune at finding her family absent.

    Shaking her head, she declared tentatively, "They felt it would do me no good to venture out on a day such as this. I believe they feared I would become chilled again."

    Realizing she had revealed that she had been so affected by her time out of doors the other day, she blushed, feeling the heat rise quickly to cheeks. Sighing heavily, she felt there was no returning from it, and not wishing to conceal anything from him, she added quietly, "I am afraid that damp weather has affected me in these past years more than I am willing to admit."

    Darcy looked toward her worriedly at the prospect that she might be unwell, and noticing her shawl had fallen slightly from her left shoulder, he laid the volume aside and quickly righted the garment. His hand lingered at her shoulder before he unconsciously trailed his fingers down her upper arm. He looked to her face, her lips parted and eyes wide with wonder at the touch. Suddenly recognizing the impropriety of his actions, he drew his hand away and clasped his hands securely in front of him.

    "I would not have you catch a chill in my presence," he offered weakly, twisting his ring anxiously.

    Elizabeth thanked him softly and the two fell quiet, each struggling to determine how to act and speak. Darcy watched her intently, his eyes tracing the lines of her face, and his mind fighting to remember all he wished to say to her. Tearing his gaze from her, he rose from his seat and strode quickly toward the fireplace. Leaning his arm against the mantle, he gazed distractedly at the flames, attempting in vain to steady his mind.

    Elizabeth started, hearing him move so quickly away, and turning in the direction of his retreating footsteps, her brow furrowed worriedly. Fearing he would not remain with her, and wishing desperately to ease the tense silence of the room, she inquired tentatively, "Did Miss Darcy enjoy the concert?"

    "She did," Darcy answered shortly, turning his dark eyes back to her. Biting his lip thoughtfully, he added quietly, "She most particularly enjoyed spending more time with you."

    Moving slowly back to her side and resuming his seat, he continued gently, his voice little more than a whisper, "I enjoyed spending more time with you."

    He heard Elizabeth's breath catch slightly at the sentiment, and breathing deeply, he reached slowly for her hand, cradling it lightly between his own. He remained thus for some time, merely gazing at her small hand within his own, and reflecting how well it complimented his. Looking back to her face, he noticed happily that her eyes danced happily, tears swimming within their green depths.

    Watching her steadily, he continued firmly, "Miss Elizabeth, you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. From the earliest moments of our acquaintance, I have come to feel for you a tender regard that has overcome everything else, and I beg you, most fervently, to relieve my suffering and consent to be my wife."

    For a moment, Elizabeth felt her heart leap in elation, hearing the words she had so desperately wished to hear spoken so sincerely. She heard everything in his voice; the desire, hope, desperation, and love. She imagined his eyes reflected the depth of his emotion, and she felt she could cry with the want to see them. Closing her eyes, she imagined their color, feeling certain though she knew not why, that they were a deep brown with flecks of gold that glistened when they caught the light. Yet with this image, also came the realization that she could not, nor would she ever, be able to determine if she was correct without him telling her. Her heart fell at this revelation, and she shivered slightly.

    Darcy gazed at her, his brow furrowing worriedly at her silence and saddened expression. Silently willing her to accept him, he pleaded softly, "Please say something."

    Opening her eyes, she concentrated on his touch as his fingers moved lightly over her knuckles, unconsciously trying to calm her racing thoughts. "You cannot say these things to me," she said quietly, her heart breaking with the effort.

    She felt him start at this, his grasp on her hand loosening somewhat as he declared imploringly, "I must speak them; I have wanted to speak them for some time."

    Removing her hand from his grasp and shaking her head vehemently, she stood from her seat and asserted sadly, "Not to me; not to me."

    Darcy watched wretchedly as she pressed her right hand to her mouth to stifle a sob and continued, "You cannot deny that an alliance between us would be viewed as a highly reprehensible act. To anyone it would be considered absolute madness."

    Rising from his seat, Darcy moved behind her and inquired evenly, "What care I for others?"

    Elizabeth felt him settle his hands on her shoulders lightly, urging her to turn toward him. Turning her face downward in an effort to hide the tears she felt filling her eyes, she listened in wonder as he continued, "I have loved you since the moment I clapped eyes on you in that field; since the moment you chastised me for riding too quickly."

    Despite her sorrow, Elizabeth laughed shortly at the memory of her own audacity at speaking so to a stranger. Darcy smiled slightly, feeling her shoulders ease somewhat beneath his fingertips. Biting his lip thoughtfully, he added quietly, "What could be more rational than to marry you, Elizabeth?"

    Pressing a hand to her flushed cheek, she shook her head sadly and whispered, "I cannot."

    She moved slowly away from him, inattentive to her steps, and stumbling slightly on a chair leg. Crying out, she struggled to regain her footing until she felt Mr. Darcy's hands at her waist, grasping her lightly and setting her to rights. She blushed in mortification, silently damning her inattentiveness for causing her to show such weakness at such a time. Bracing herself against his shoulders, she felt his eyes on her and sensed he desperately wished for a reason for her refusal, and breathing deeply, she stepped out of his hold.

    "This is why I cannot," she declared despondently, gesturing to her eyes which gazed just beyond him. "I could not be a proper wife for you; I cannot even traverse a familiar room without risking doing myself an injury, let alone a crowded ballroom or drawing room."

    Darcy shook his head, wishing desperately to disagree with her, but was prevented as she began to move further away, her hands out before her. His heart broke slightly as he watched her, noting that her flushed cheeks were damp with the tears that now fell steadily from her beautiful eyes.

    Attempting desperately to count her way toward the window seat, and despairing when she could not remember her place or concentrate on her steps, she paused and felt for the nearest object she could lean against. Finding the carved rail of a high-backed chair, she grasped it thankfully, breathing deeply in an effort to calm herself. Leaning against it, she passed her other hand over each of her cheeks vainly endeavoring to rid them of their dampness.

    "Do you truly believe that is all I require in a wife?" he asked incredulously, his eyes not yet wavering from her form. "Someone who is easy in society?"

    Elizabeth remained silent, her shoulders quaking slightly as she listened to him approach her. She drew an unsteady breath, drawing her shawl tightly about her shoulders in an effort to warm her chilled person as she listened to him continue.

    "I thought you would have known me better than this," he said sadly, arriving by her side. "If an ability to mingle thoughtlessly in society and look fashionable while doing it was all I wanted, I would have married long ago."

    Reaching tentatively for the hand he noticed gripped the chair tightly, he pressed it beseechingly and added quietly, "No, Elizabeth; I wish for far more in my wife."

    Hearing the despondency in his voice, and realizing he took her explanation to mean she believed his character lacking, she returned the pressure of his hold, declaring, "I mean that I could not bear to see you ridiculed or scorned as a result of allying yourself with me."

    "I would not be," he answered vehemently, raising his handkerchief carefully to her face and gently wiping at her cheeks.

    "You would though!" she cried unhappily, moving out of his grasp. "And I would not have you regret your choice."

    His brow knitted unhappily at this, and watching her turn away from him, he said, his voice wavering with sadness, "This is a poor opinion of me indeed; I assure you, madam, I am not as inconstant as you would have me be."

    On hearing this, Elizabeth turned quickly toward him, her skirts whirling agitatedly about her ankles, and she staggered with the swiftness of the movement. Pressing a hand lightly to her forehead, she felt a sudden wave of dizziness overcome her. Breathing deeply, she fought it back, rubbing at her temples slowly.

    Lowering her hands and wringing them dejectedly, she asserted, "It is not your affection I doubt, Mr. Darcy."

    Darcy looked hopefully toward her, his eyes lightening slightly, but his breath caught painfully when he heard her sob before continuing, "But I would not have that affection turned into something ugly, and punished by those you know."

    Despite the quaver in her voice and the tears that flowed unchecked from her eyes, he still heard the determination he had so often admired in her resounding within it. Sighing heavily, his chest tightened at the realization that he might not be able to win her affection and he raked a hand slowly through his hair in an effort to calm the tears he felt rising to his eyes. Reflecting that he had not wept since failing Georgiana so horribly the previous summer, he swallowed painfully and moved slowly in front of Elizabeth. Feeling two tears wind their way slowly down his own cheeks, and caring nothing for them, he reached for her hands once more and slowly drew them to his face.

    Pressing her small hands lightly against his jaw, his voice wavered as he asked quietly, "Can you see me, Elizabeth?"

    She closed her eyes tightly, forcing more tears to fall from them as she nodded slightly. She sighed desperately, remembering the first time he had asked her that same question.

    "See me completely then," he whispered, holding her hands surely against his face.

    She allowed him to move her fingers to his brow and back down, but started when she encountered the dampness of his cheeks. Pausing there, she moved her thumbs over them in effort to dry them.

    She felt his hands leave hers and she listened intently as he quietly professed, "I could never regret you, Elizabeth. You have my word."

    Grasping her hands lightly again, and pressing them to his chest urgently, he declared, "I could not imagine a better companion, better sister for Georgiana, better mistress for my home, or better mother to my children than you, Elizabeth."

    He paused, clasping her hands more tightly and studying her carefully before adding quietly, "You are what I desire, and nothing more. I require no assurance from my acquaintances and no blessings from my family; only you. "

    Elizabeth wept quietly at this sentiment, her heart beating more quickly. She felt her knees waver beneath her as her resolve to protect him dissipated, only to be replaced by the most profound joy at the prospect of accepting him.

    "I am a selfish being," she whispered weakly, reflecting that he was indeed the best of men, for though in marrying her he invited the censure of those around them, he cared not for it, and instead focused entirely on her.

    Darcy's brow furrowed at this, and stepping back so he could better see her face, he asked, "Why ever would you believe that, my dear?"

    She smiled brightly, her mouth opening to confess those words she believed Mr. Darcy so desperately desired, but paused when she felt the heavy weight of faintness upon her again. She felt herself suddenly cold and imagined her countenance quickly drained of color. She shivered slightly, suddenly feeling a violent chill run through her. Feeling her legs weakening, she leaned into Mr. Darcy, drawing warmth and strength from his steady frame as she laid her hands on his forearms.

    His eyes widening with worry as he watched her lively complexion pale and her form shiver slightly, Darcy cried, "Elizabeth, what is the matter?"

    Elizabeth shook her head vehemently, desperately wanting to avoid causing him distress. Pressing his arms slightly to give him assurance, she distractedly declared, "I am well, Fitzwilliam."

    Hearing his name spoken so easily by her, his heart leapt happily, and his dark eyes lightened as he inquired disbelievingly, "What did you say?"

    Despite her ashen countenance, he watched as a light blush spread becomingly across her cheeks. Smiling slightly, he declared, "Please, Elizabeth; if you feel you cannot love me, even a little, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes will never waver, but one word from you will silence me on this subject forever."

    Elizabeth could do naught but smile at such a declaration, and seeing this, Darcy took her hands and studying her intently, he added quietly, "If you believe you can feel something for me, I promise you shall never regret your decision."

    Pausing momentarily and raising her right hand to kiss it lightly, he vowed, "Nor shall I."

    Elizabeth closed her eyes at this, her mind filling with images of the life she believed she could expect with him. She smiled contently at the visions, seeing herself sitting comfortably in a bright sitting room, hearing his footfalls approaching behind her, and feeling his soft touch against her shoulder. She sighed happily at such a prospect before the images began to cloud and vanish in confusion. Her brow furrowed unhappily and she suddenly felt herself falling, her legs buckling helplessly beneath her.

    Before the silence descended upon her, she heard his voice calling out to her desperately, and felt his hands smoothing her hair from her feverish forehead while cradling her chilled body.

    Chapter 32: A Faithful Watch

    Posted on 2008-11-16

    Darcy's dark eyes widened in terror, watching the color drain quickly from Elizabeth's countenance as her form wavered before him. Instinctively, his hands reached to grasp her waist, but quickly recognizing she was losing consciousness, he moved his arms to encircle her shoulders and back, gathering her to his chest.

    "Elizabeth!" he exclaimed fearfully, gazing down at her and finding that her brilliant eyes had closed.

    He started at the image before him; Elizabeth pale and still in his arms. Carefully, he knelt with her, slowly guiding her body down to the rug to ensure he did not do her further injury. Laying her head carefully in his lap, he quickly moved to feel her forehead, and pressed his shaking hand gently to her fair brow. His breath caught when he felt the significant heat that raged there, and he drew back his hand as if bitten. Studying her intently, his eyes moved over her person, noting unhappily that her form shivered from the chill she unconsciously felt. Reaching for her hand, and feeling it cold and unresponsive in his own, he closed his eyes as his chest tightened painfully.

    ‘Please be well, my love,' he thought desperately.

    Clasping her hand tightly, he raised his head and cried loudly, "Hello there!"

    When he heard footsteps swiftly approaching, he bit back a sob of relief and returned his attention to Elizabeth. He gently moved his arm beneath her knees, and the other behind her shoulders before moving her further into his embrace. With little effort, he rose slowly with her to ensure that none of his movements caused her discomfort. He moved his right hand to cradle her head against his shoulder, and he felt her unsteady breath against his jaw. Closing his eyes, he silently thanked God for the sensation of it, however faint it was.

    He laid his cheek against her warm forehead and whispered softly, "I will not leave you, Elizabeth."

    He only raised his head when he heard the frantic footfalls near the door, and his gaze was soon met by the worried countenances of the young maid who had greeted him at the door earlier and an older woman. Their eyes were wide with astonishment at seeing the illustrious Mr. Darcy holding their employer's niece so surely. The younger woman opened her mouth wordlessly, stricken silent by the image before her as she undoubtedly wondered what brought about such events. Caring not how the scene appeared to anyone, for his mind was occupied solely with Elizabeth's welfare, Darcy unconsciously held her tighter to him.

    "See that Mrs. Gardiner and Miss Bennet are fetched here at once," he commanded evenly, though his mind raced with apprehension. "They walked in the direction of the shops. Tell them that Miss Elizabeth is quite unwell."

    Nodding in mute understanding, the young maid quickly raced away to fetch her things so she might carry out his order. Watching her depart, and hoping desperately that she might find the pair swiftly, Darcy turned his attention to the other woman, and stepping forward urgently, he declared, "We must get her warm immediately."

    "Of course, sir," she answered, her mouth falling into a determined line when she glanced down at the pale face of the Gardiners' favorite niece.

    Gathering her skirts, she gestured for him to follow and she quickly ascended the stairs so she might guide him to Miss Elizabeth's chamber. As they reached the landing and moved down the hallway, she glanced at the man beside her, reflecting that despite his serious mien and rigid deportment, he seemed a kind individual. She noted that he held Miss Elizabeth tightly to his chest, and though his countenance was calm, his dark eyes shone with profound concern. Her brow furrowed curiously, wondering at the degree of acquaintance between the two, but her reflections ceased when they reached the door of Miss Elizabeth's room.

    Darcy watched her pause in indecision, her hand stilling as it reached for the doorknob. Having no doubt she recognized the impropriety of allowing him into Elizabeth's chamber, his jaw set in annoyance. Though he, too, admitted the obvious breach of decorum in entering a young woman's room, not of his own family, he refused to relinquish his hold on Elizabeth.

    Resolving he would brook no opposition, he turned and declared firmly, "I will carry Miss Elizabeth the remainder of the way, madam."

    On hearing the vehemence in his voice, she looked toward him in surprise, and meeting his serious gaze, listened in wonder as he continued.

    "Please, madam," Darcy pleaded softly, looking toward Elizabeth's face and noting unhappily that her teeth chattered lightly from her chill. "I would not wish to leave her in such a state."

    Sighing in resignation, the woman moved forward, leading him into the room. If Darcy was at all disconcerted by the prospect of being in her bedroom, he hid it well. The only hint of his discomfiture was the light blush that spread across his cheeks as his dark eyes caught sight of the bed. Diverting his gaze quickly and drawing a shuddering breath, Darcy asked to have hot water, smelling salts, and an extra quilt brought promptly so they might set to warming Elizabeth's chilled body. The woman looked at him incredulously at the prospect of leaving him alone, but soon recognizing that there was no other help to be had, she glanced fretfully at Elizabeth once more, before departing swiftly.

    When he no longer discerned the light swishing of her skirts, Darcy released the breath he had been holding. He felt his heart racing fearfully, and closing his eyes, he prayed silently that he was acting correctly in remaining with her.

    ‘She would want you here,' his mind whispered

    Opening his eyes, he hoped desperately that it was true. Settling his gaze on Elizabeth, he attempted to recall all Mrs. Reynolds had done whenever Georgiana had taken with fever in her youth. Noting thankfully that the fire blazed brightly, he quickly moved toward it. Stopping at the hearth, and noticing unhappily that there was no chair or settee, for the décor of the room was simple and practical, he sighed heavily in frustration. On hearing Elizabeth draw an unsteady breath before quietly mumbling a few incoherent phrases, his jaw set in determination.

    "Damn the repercussions," he declared firmly.

    Slowly and warily, he lowered Elizabeth to the rug, carefully sliding his arms from beneath her soft form. He took a few short strides to the bed to retrieve a pillow and coverlet, and returning to her side, placed the pillow gently beneath her head and covered her securely, seeing that her arms lay comfortably atop the thick linen. Seating himself beside her, he settled his elbow against his left knee and reached toward her with his right. He gently moved his fingers down her cheek, memorizing its softness and wishing desperately to see it covered with the lively blush he so enjoyed bringing to it. Smiling at the memory of her eyes dancing merrily and her brilliant grin flashing mischievously, he moved his hand to cover her own. He clasped it surely, but gasped when he felt its coldness seep through the flesh of his palm. His brow knitting in concern, he quickly recognized what had to be done.

    He held her left hand between his own and rubbed it vigorously. Blowing against it and cradling it to his chest, he looked back to Elizabeth's face.

    Feeling his eyes fill suddenly with tears at the prospect of losing so precious an individual, he whispered, "Please remain with me, Elizabeth. We have so much before us."

    His eyes widened with the sudden realization that she had not formally accepted him, and as a result, he had little right to be with her now in so intimate a setting. Closing his eyes tightly, he prayed they would have the opportunity to continue their discussion, and he hoped the conclusion of it would favor him, for he could not imagine a happier moment than Elizabeth accepting him.

    Raising her hand to his lips, he kissed her fingertips lightly and said earnestly, "I love you, Elizabeth."

    He watched her face, hoping desperately to see some response, some recognition, but seeing none, he continued his efforts of warming her. He soon heard the quick footsteps and excited voices of people coming quickly toward the chamber. Caring naught for their reaction, he moved to take Elizabeth's other hand and rubbed its back and palm, creating friction and imparting his warmth to her. He looked toward the door in time to see Mrs. Gardiner arrive in its frame, pulling hastily at the bow of her bonnet and tearing quickly at the fastenings on her heavy coat. She was followed soon after by Miss Bennet, whose fair eyes were wide with worry and Darcy noted that she started when she encountered his gaze, having obviously not been informed of his presence.

    As the women moved toward him and Elizabeth, Darcy continued his ministrations, declaring evenly as explanation for his actions, "We must draw the fever down."

    Mrs. Gardiner's brow furrowed curiously, and she quickly knelt on the other side of Elizabeth. Taking up her hand, she gasped at its iciness and pressed it beseechingly.

    "Oh, Lizzy," she whispered despairingly before raising her fearful gaze to her eldest niece and two maids. "Hannah, Sophie; please, see that everything Mr. Darcy requested is brought immediately."

    She looked to the man across from her, silently thanking him for his steady presence as she continued, "He is quite right."

    The two women curtseyed quickly, and turning from the room, departed to carry out their mistress' order. Darcy watched them depart before turning his gaze to Miss Bennet, who stood above him, twisting her gloves nervously in her hands. Realizing she wished desperately to take his place, he released Elizabeth's hand and stood from his position at her side. Nodding slightly, he welcomed Miss Bennet to his seat and watched as she smiled her gratitude before kneeling by her sister. Darcy sighed heavily, watching the women he had so come to respect, working tirelessly to warm their dear Elizabeth.

    When the maids returned, their arms burdened with blankets and a pitcher and bowl of steaming water, Mrs. Gardiner motioned them toward the small table by the window. "If her hands are this chilled, her feet will be as well," she declared.

    Darcy recognized that his presence was now a burden to the group, and though he loathed doing so, he moved slowly toward the door. He gripped the doorframe for support as he declared, his voice cracking with emotion, "I shall send my personal physician immediately. You have my word that he will arrive within the hour."

    Pausing to calm the rising ache he felt, he breathed deeply and said, "I wish Miss Elizabeth the speediest recovery."

    With that, he fled down the hallway, wishing desperately to contain his sadness until he was outside. Descending the stairs two at a time, he made his way swiftly to the foyer and hastily took up his greatcoat and hat. Pushing his arms through the heavy sleeves and pulling his fine leather gloves distractedly over his hands, he turned to depart, but halted when he heard his name called.

    "Mr. Darcy!" Jane cried, walking quickly toward him.

    Darcy passed his hands over his face, attempting to rid his eyes of the tears that threatened to fall at any moment. Breathing deeply, he turned and bowed low as she arrived in front of him.

    "I am sure you have long desired my absence, Miss Bennet," he declared quietly, turning his gaze to the floorboards in an attempt to hide the despair and fear he felt. "Forgive my forwardness for remaining so long with your sister."

    Jane's brow knitted in confusion and she exclaimed, "You have done us a great service, sir! Thank you for taking such prodigious care of her."

    Darcy blushed at the praise, and shaking his head, said quietly, "I acted only as I thought. There was nothing very extraordinary in it."

    He reiterated that he wished to fetch his physician immediately, and fixing his hat upon his head, moved to open the door. He halted his progress when he felt Miss Bennet lay a gentle hand on his forearm to stay him. Looking toward her curiously, he saw that her eyes were filled with worry, sympathy, and understanding.

    "I hope you will return to us as well," she admitted softly. "I am certain Elizabeth would wish it."

    Darcy's brow rose in astonishment at her declaration, and praying it meant Elizabeth had shared her opinion of him with her sister, he nodded slightly, his color heightening further. Reaching for her hand, he pressed it in empathy and said, "She will be well."

    Jane smiled, her eyes stinging with tears, as she watched him bow once more before moving out into the cold, early afternoon air. He quickly untied his horse's reins, and as he glanced back at her, Jane perceived the worry in his dark eyes. Turning, he mounted his horse, and urging him forward, raced quickly down the crowded street. Jane watched until he turned at the corner, and sighing heavily, she closed the door against the chill and leaned heavily against it.

    "I hope you are right, Mr. Darcy," she whispered before turning and ascending the stairs to return to her sister's side.

    Georgiana gazed anxiously out the window, a blithe smile spreading slowly across her young face as she watched the scene below. Craning her neck, she hoped to perceive her brother's tall form among the other horsemen and carriages. After his departure, she had retreated to the music room. Yet while she sat on the bench of the pianoforte, staring distractedly at the music before her, she could do naught but think on the happy time she had spent in Elizabeth's company in that very room. Placing her fingers on the keys, she recalled Elizabeth's remarkable playing, and hoped that should Providence grant her such a sister, she would spend many an hour in such a way.

    Now, as the clock above the mantle struck twelve, she sighed impatiently and played idly with the intricately embroidered edge of her fine shawl. Glancing once more down into the street, and seeing no sign of her brother, she determined she must occupy herself in some way.

    ‘Or I shall drive myself to distraction,' she thought lightly, rising from her seat at the window and crossing the drawing room to the sideboard where she might fix herself a cup of tea.

    Pouring the hot liquid into a delicate china cup, she glanced about the room and envisioned the warmth and laughter that would fill it once Elizabeth became the mistress of the house. Shaking her head slightly, she marveled at the rapidity with which she had come to care for and admire Elizabeth. She had studied Elizabeth's interactions with Fitzwilliam throughout the performance the previous night, and found happily that the pair conversed often. She did not miss how frequently her brother's attention had been drawn away from the music to Elizabeth's countenance, nor did she overlook the blush that graced Elizabeth's fair complexion as she spoke quietly with him. Smiling, she recalled how proudly her brother had told her of Elizabeth's intelligence and knowledge of literature and languages.

    ‘In that respect they are certainly equals,' she thought wryly, thinking on the many hours her brother spent ensconced in his library or study.

    She had always feared that her brother would choose a woman who, though equal to him in consequence and property, would be his inferior in all else, in an effort to provide her with a sister who could guide her easily through the Season. Sighing deeply, she admitted unhappily that her brother often placed her wants and the wishes of their family above his own these past years, undoubtedly feeling that doing so would preserve those precious relationships. Though she had been young, she had recognized how profoundly the loss of their father had affected him, and she remembered finding him sitting in Pemberley's library, his head cradled in his hands as he wept. The previous summer and her near-elopement with George Wickham had most likely cut him just as deep, for he would have been stripped of his remaining family. Blowing lightly on the steaming tea she held, she raised it to her lips and sipped slowly, allowing the liquid to warm her chilled body and rid her of such unhappy memories.

    ‘With Elizabeth, he will find happiness,' she thought, sighing deeply and feeling a sense of comfort come over her.

    Cradling her cup, she moved back to her seat at the window and resumed her wait. Turning her attention outside, she smiled brightly as she observed her brother springing quickly from his dark horse. Setting her tea aside, Georgiana rose and walked swiftly into the hallway, wanting nothing more than to see her brother smiling happily and to hear Elizabeth had consented to be his wife. She approached the foyer, and pausing as she saw the footman approach the door, she folded her hands before her and waited. Her eyes widened in surprise when her brother entered swiftly, waving away the footman's offer to take his greatcoat and hat.

    "I shall not be staying," Darcy declared firmly, his dark eyes meeting Georgiana's as he said it. "Send for Mr. Byatt immediately; there is not an instant to lose."

    Her brow furrowed in confusion as the footman departed quickly to carry out her brother's order. Georgiana stepped forward, and touching his arm lightly, asked, "What is it, Fitzwilliam? What has happened?"

    Though he did not wish to cause Georgiana worry, she could not remain ignorant of Elizabeth's condition and the very great danger she faced. Removing his hat and tucking it beneath his arm, he grasped Georgiana's small hand within his own and said softly, "Elizabeth is not well."

    Paling noticeably, Georgiana exclaimed fearfully, "What has happened to her?"

    Swallowing painfully and turning his eyes downward in an effort to hide the sadness there, he declared, "She collapsed right before me."

    Georgiana inhaled sharply, a hand rising to her mouth with her astonishment, and shaking her head slightly, she inquired, "What is being done to help her?"

    "I plan to return to the Gardiners' home immediately; I wished only to inform you and fetch Mr. Byatt," he answered gently.

    Clasping his hand more fully, Georgiana said, "I wish to accompany you."

    Darcy's brow rose in surprise at the vehemence in her voice, but shaking his head, he said, "No; that will not be necessary. Your want to help is admirable though, and I would expect no less from you."

    Breathing deeply, and standing to her full height, though she still stood no taller than her brother's shoulder, she professed, "I will come with you. If Miss Elizabeth is to be my sister, I wish to do all I can for her. I understand that Mrs. Gardiner has several young children, and the maids will certainly be busy with Miss Elizabeth. I can entertain the children."

    Smiling at his sister's intrepidness and desire to aid Elizabeth, Darcy nodded in resignation and declared, "Very well; go and ready yourself."

    Pressing his hand in an effort to comfort him, Georgiana turned and quickly began to ascend the stairs. Pausing at the landing, she turned, and smiling sadly, said, "When she is well, you will have another opportunity; I am certain of it."

    With that, she continued above stairs, calling lightly for her maid as she went. Darcy watched her depart, his heart swelling with the knowledge she already held Elizabeth so dear. Rubbing his chin against the back of his hand in agitation, he made his way to the carved bench to his right. Sitting heavily upon it and laying his hat aside, he held his head in his hands.

    "I hope you are right, Georgiana," he whispered desperately, praying that the following day would find Elizabeth well and the following weeks would find her his beloved intended.

    Jane passed a frustrated hand over her eyes, feeling them strain in the dim light of the room, for her aunt had drawn the drapes and only the light of a few large candles cast a soft glow about the chamber. Sighing deeply, she returned her attention to the thick cloth she held, plunging it into the cold water in the basin. Raising it up, she twisted the cloth tightly, forcing its excess water to fall. Glancing over her shoulder, she watched as her aunt carefully adjusted the heavy blankets about Elizabeth, smoothing the creases and securing the linens at her feet. Jane stifled a sob when her aunt took up Elizabeth's cold hand, and kissing it lightly, whispered a quiet prayer that God would deliver Elizabeth back to them.

    "Come back to us, Lizzy," Mrs. Gardiner begged quietly, closing her eyes and resting her hand lightly against Elizabeth's feverish forehead as if to impart some measure of her own strength to her niece.

    Straightening, she studied Elizabeth carefully and noticed unhappily that her form still quaked and her mouth moved wordlessly. Resuming her chair, Mrs. Gardiner reclaimed her hand and held it surely within her own. To Jane, Mrs. Gardiner offered a small smile of encouragement and invited her to resume her seat. Nodding slightly, Jane wiped her right hand against her cheek to rid it of the single tear that rolled down, and wringing the cloth lightly, she quickly returned to her seat to Elizabeth's right. She raised the cloth to Elizabeth's forehead, running it delicately over her brow and down her flushed cheek in an effort to calm the heat there. Laying the cloth aside, she clasped Elizabeth's other hand, raising it and holding it against her cheek.

    "I am certain Mr. Darcy's physician will be arriving at any time," Mrs. Gardiner declared, hoping to bring Jane some comfort. "We must keep faith."

    Nodding slightly, Jane answered sadly, "I know, aunt; I simply cannot bear to see her so."

    "You must remember how strong Elizabeth is, dearest," Mrs. Gardiner continued, recalling the sorrowful and anxious days that followed Elizabeth's infection four years ago.

    Sniffling lightly, Jane nodded again before closing her eyes and laying her forehead against Elizabeth's shoulder. Mrs. Gardiner watched wretchedly as Jane's form shook slightly while she wept silently. Sighing heavily, she looked toward Elizabeth's face, and taking up the cloth, she gently wiped Elizabeth's brow. She started when she heard Elizabeth's breathing become labored, heavy coughs wracking her already fragile body. Jane sat up in alarm, her eyes frightened as she clasped Elizabeth's hand tightly.

    "Lizzy?" Jane inquired worriedly before whispering comforting phrases in the hope to calm Elizabeth's distress.

    Retrieving a glass of water from the small side table, Mrs. Gardiner quickly returned, and gingerly raising Elizabeth's head, held the water to her lips. Elizabeth started at the feeling and turning her head aside, refused the drink, mumbling incoherently. Frowning sadly, Mrs. Gardiner put the glass down and slowly laid Elizabeth's head back on the pillow, adjusting the loose braid over Elizabeth's shoulder. Looking back to Jane, she noticed that her fair eyes had filled with tears, her fear for her sister's welfare obvious and profound. A light knock at the door diverted her attention, and raising her eyes, she noticed her young maid had entered.

    "Mr. Gardiner has arrived, madam, and a Mr. Bingley is with him," she declared evenly.

    She inhaled sharply at this, for she had entirely forgotten their engagement with Mr. Bingley for that afternoon. Glancing toward Jane, she said, "I shall go speak with him and explain."

    "No, aunt," Jane asserted firmly. "I will go; please remain with Lizzy. I shall not be long."

    "I will remain with her as well, miss," the young maid offered, smiling at the obvious care Jane had for her sister.

    Nodding in agreement, Mrs. Gardiner said, "Thank you, Hannah. Your uncle has already been informed of what has happened, so perhaps he has already made it known to Mr. Bingley."

    Rising from her seat, and kissing Elizabeth's forehead, feeling the heat against her lips, Jane whispered, "I will return in a moment."

    Jane turned on her heel, and gathering her skirts, she swept swiftly from the room and made her way down the hallway. She paused at the landing of the staircase and glanced over the banister to the floor below. Her breath caught when she spied Mr. Bingley speaking earnestly with her uncle, a look of concern spread across his characteristically merry countenance. His brow knitted unhappily, and he nodded gravely before glancing up as if drawn to do so by her mere presence. Jane blushed becomingly at being so discovered, and nodding slightly, moved to descend the stairs. As she did so, she smoothed the deep creases of her skirts that had formed as a result of her two hours sitting with Elizabeth and pressed a hand to assess the state of her hair. Feeling several pieces falling helplessly from their confines, she sighed in frustration, but as there was nothing to do at the present moment, she continued down. On reaching the bottom, she watched in amazement as Mr. Bingley quickly approached her, his hand extended.

    Clasping Jane's right hand briefly, Mr. Bingley bowed deeply and declared, "I am so very sorry to hear of what has happened, and I wish Miss Elizabeth a most speedy recovery."

    "Thank you, sir," Jane declared quietly.

    "How is she, Jane?" Mr. Gardiner asked anxiously, his fear for Elizabeth apparent in his pale countenance and worried expression. "Has there been any change?"

    Jane shook her head sadly and answered, "Not at all; she is very restless, and I believe her fever has continued to rise."

    Sighing dejectedly, Mr. Gardiner said, "I shall see that your father is informed; I will send an express directly."

    "I think that would be best, uncle," Jane agreed quietly. "I know he would want to be here just as he was then."

    Jane recalled that during Elizabeth's previous illness, her father had been very much alone. Unable to imagine the fright he must have felt, Jane pressed her hand to her mouth and closed her eyes tightly in an effort to prevent the tears she felt gathering. Noticing her movement, Mr. Bingley stepped closer to her.

    Pressing his handkerchief lightly into her hand, he asked, "Is there anything I can do for your relief, Miss Bennet? I cannot bear to see you so distraught."

    Blushing at the transparency of his statement, he quickly added, "That is... I am certain you are quite exhausted."

    Smiling slightly at his clumsy declaration, Jane answered, "Not at all, sir, but I thank you for your concern."

    Mr. Gardiner watched the exchange in amusement, feeling certain that had the circumstances been different, Mr. Bingley would have declared himself to Jane that very day. Shaking his head, he resolved that there would be another time. His study of the pair was interrupted by the sudden and urgent knocking at the door. His brow rising in surprise, he quickly approached it, for he knew his staff was quite occupied above stairs.

    "Whoever could that be?" he wondered aloud as he clasped the iron door latch.

    He stepped back in surprise when his quizzical gaze met the serious countenance of Mr. Darcy and he exclaimed, "Mr. Darcy! We were not expecting you."

    Smiling in relief, Jane stepped forward and explained, "But we were, uncle. Mr. Darcy happened upon Elizabeth when she fell ill. We owe him our gratitude."

    Darcy blushed at this praise, his color heightening beyond the light flush that covered his cheeks as a result of the biting chill of the air outside. Shaking his head lightly, he asserted, "I am owed nothing, Miss Bennet."

    Guiding his sister forward across the threshold, Darcy quickly turned and introduced the older gentleman behind him. "Mr. Gardiner, Miss Bennet; this is Mr. Byatt. He has been our family's physician since I was a child," Darcy said, smiling fondly at the man beside him.

    "No need to reveal how ancient I am, Mr. Darcy," Mr. Byatt declared, smiling wryly and clasping Mr. Gardiner's hand surely.

    Jane curtseyed lightly and confessed, "We are happy you have come, sir."

    The party quickly discarded their heavy coats, gloves and hats, and Jane saw that they were carefully laid on the long bench near the door. Turning back to the company, she immediately perceived that Mr. Darcy's dark eyes gazed at the ceiling, his mind undoubtedly filling with questions as to Elizabeth's progress. Sighing heavily, she reflected that she had nothing to tell him that he would welcome except the knowledge that her sister still lived. She returned quietly to her uncle's side, and listened intently as he offered to escort Mr. Byatt above stairs.

    "Yes, I would like to see the young woman as soon as possible," he said gruffly, his good humor quickly dissipating, only to be replaced by the somber mien required of his profession.

    The two men moved toward the steps, but the doctor was prevented from continuing by Darcy laying a hand on his arm. Mr. Byatt's brow rose curiously, and looking toward Darcy, he was shocked to see the serious young man he had known for so long gazing at him imploringly.

    "Please do all you can, sir," he declared quietly, his other hand clenching into a tight fist in an effort to quell the rising fear he felt.

    The doctor nodded distractedly, studying the man before him carefully, and wondering at his apparent distress. Before he could inquire as to the cause or speculate further, Mr. Gardiner continued on, leading him swiftly up the stairs and down the hall to Elizabeth's chamber. Darcy watched their departure, his complexion paling when he realized that it would not be long until the doctor would return and tell him his beloved's fate. His breath hitched at the realization that within the next hour, he could lose that which he had come to hold most dear.

    ‘No,' he chastised himself firmly. ‘She will be well; she must be well.'

    His shoulders tensed noticeably and his jaw set rigidly as he desperately fought the urge to charge up the stairs after the two men and demand admittance to Elizabeth's sickroom. He recognized sadly that he had no authority to do so, for he was no father, brother, or husband to her.

    ‘But you are her intended,' his mind urged him to believe.

    Shaking his head sadly, he admitted reluctantly that he could not call himself that, and would not until he heard those words of acceptance from her. Though she had been prevented from giving him her answer, he recalled the light dancing of her eyes and her brilliant smile, and he hoped implicitly that it revealed her decision would be a favorable one. With this belief, he clasped his hands firmly behind his back and resolved painfully that he would endure the agonizing wait. Tearing his gaze from the staircase, he returned his attention back to the others, and noted contently that Georgiana spoke quietly with Miss Bennet.

    "I thought I might be of service to the children," she said shyly. "I know your aunt is quite occupied with Miss Elizabeth, and I am certain you would prefer to be with her as well."

    Nodding solemnly, Jane confessed, "I do indeed, but we cannot ask that of you, Miss Darcy."

    Reaching forward, Georgiana clasped her hand gently and declared quietly, "I wish to be of service to you all."

    On seeing the sad sincerity in the young girl's eyes, Jane pressed her hand affectionately. "Thank you, Miss Darcy; I am certain the children will be delighted to meet you. They are in the drawing room," she said gratefully.

    Gesturing toward the hallway, Jane offered to lead Miss Darcy there. Looking toward her brother, Miss Darcy was pleased to see he looked at her fondly, obvious approval of her lightening his unhappy countenance. Smiling pleasantly and nodding to him, she followed Jane quietly down the hallway.

    "That is very good of your sister," Bingley said pleasantly.

    Darcy nodded distractedly before turning to his friend and extending his hand amiably. "Forgive me for not greeting you properly, Bingley; it is good to see you."

    "It is understandable under such circumstances," he answered solemnly. "I am surprised to find you here though."

    Blushing noticeably at the apparent question in his friend's declaration, Darcy nodded slightly and admitted quietly, "Miss Elizabeth fell ill when I called earlier. I thought it only right I offer my services."

    Nodding in understanding, Bingley said sadly, "I shall take my leave when Miss Bennet returns; I am afraid I am only in the way here, though I do wish I could offer some assistance to them."

    Darcy noted that Bingley looked wistfully in the direction of Miss Bennet's departure, and studying his friend carefully, he asked, "Would you be willing to fetch their father?"

    Bingley turned toward Darcy in surprise and declared, "Mr. Gardiner has just now sent for him."

    Shaking his head sadly, Darcy declared, "I believe Mr. Bennet would benefit from a steady companion, for I have no doubt this news will affect him greatly."

    Bingley watched in wonder as Darcy turned abruptly away, his voice hitching with the final words of his assertion. His brow knitting uncertainly, Bingley placed his hand on Darcy's shoulder and declared, "You are not yourself today, my friend."

    Looking toward his friend, Darcy acknowledged that Bingley's light eyes studied him in apprehension and concern. Turning his ring in agitation, Darcy admitted he desperately needed to make known his fears, or he would surely be driven to distraction before Mr. Byatt and Mr. Gardiner returned.

    Sighing in resignation, Darcy confessed softly, "I have not been myself since we arrived in Hertfordshire."

    Reflecting on this momentarily, and recalling Darcy's distraction during their time at Netherfield, Bingley admitted the truth of this and asked, "Do you know why you have felt so? I thought you quite recovered from the incident at Ramsgate."

    Having no desire to think on George Wickham at such a time, Darcy quickly waved his hand, dismissing Bingley's supposition and declaring, "I do not feel this way because of last summer."

    Turning his gaze to the ceiling again, Darcy imagined Elizabeth's pale countenance and labored breathing, and closing his eyes tightly against the vision, he added quietly, "It is for her."

    Bingley's brow fell in confusion, before rising in astonishment as his eyes widened. "You care for Miss Elizabeth," he said disbelievingly.

    Darcy nodded gravely, and opening his eyes, he admitted, "Very much."

    Stepping away from Darcy, Bingley paced about the room in wonder, his surprise at hearing such news evident in his stride. Facing his friend fully once more, he declared, "For all these months."

    "Almost from the very instant I saw her," Darcy said dejectedly as he slowly made his way toward a carved chair near the staircase.

    Falling into it heavily, he laid his head in his hands in an effort to retain the little composure he still possessed. He tensed when he heard Bingley approach him, arriving wordlessly by his side. Glancing up, Darcy clasped his hands and laid his chin atop them.

    Shaking his head sadly, he asserted, "I do not know what I should do when they dismiss me. I do not believe I can bear being away from her when at any moment she could... "

    With this, Darcy choked back a sob, and slamming his eyes shut against the onslaught of tears he felt gathering in his eyes, he turned his face toward the floorboards. Bingley watched the scene painfully, for never had he seen his friend in such a state. He averted his eyes, wishing to give Darcy some semblance of privacy.

    "I will fetch Mr. Bennet," Bingley offered quietly. "I shall leave within the hour."

    Darcy turned his damp eyes toward his friend and declared gratefully, "Thank you, my friend."

    Pressing his friend's shoulder in encouragement, Bingley declared, "You are right; his presence will undoubtedly give them much comfort."

    "I believe Miss Elizabeth depends upon him," Darcy said evenly, recalling Elizabeth's quiet recounting of her fever and her father's unwavering devotion during that dark time. "If only I could be permitted to be there for her in such a way."

    "Have you not declared yourself?" Bingley asked incredulously.

    Darcy nodded slowly and quickly made known the circumstances of his visit that morning. Bingley listened wretchedly, sympathy for his friend and fear for Elizabeth welling within him.

    Biting his lip thoughtfully, Bingley wondered, "Perhaps, Mr. Gardiner can be impressed upon if you told him of the circumstances."

    "No," Darcy declared firmly. "I will not impose myself upon them at such a time, especially since I have not received an answer from Miss Elizabeth."

    "But surely she would accept you!" Bingley exclaimed, his surprise at his friend's anxiety evident. "She receives your attentions very well; I saw how often you spoke at the orchestra."

    Darcy smiled at the memory, feeling that the previous evening and the happiness he felt then now seemed epochs away. Nodding sadly, Darcy admitted, "I do believe she was prepared to accept, but I would not act until I have heard her answer."

    Though Bingley wished to assure his friend further, he was prevented by Jane's return. His eyes immediately found hers, gazing at her fair countenance affectionately and recognizing sadly that her fear had dimmed her eyes slightly. Frowning anxiously, Bingley quickly stepped forward and gently took her hand in his own. He watched as Jane's eyes widened in surprise, and she blushed before glancing quickly at Darcy who seemed unaffected by his friend's gesture.

    Raising Jane's hand to his chest, Bingley declared, "Darcy and I have spoken, Miss Bennet, and I have determined that I am bound for Hertfordshire."

    Jane's brow furrowed in confusion as he continued, "I will bring your father to you."

    Her breath caught at this intelligence, relief washing over her for she felt certain Elizabeth would benefit greatly from their father's steady strength and presence. Smiling brightly, she said, "Thank you, sir."

    Darcy rose from his seat, and approaching Bingley, asserted, "You shall take my team and carriage, Bingley. They will bear you quickly, and be able to make the return journey by tomorrow evening."

    Jane looked from one gentleman to the other in astonishment and declared, "You are both the very best of men."

    The two friends blushed at such praise, and Darcy, uncomfortable with such attention, quickly moved to resume his seat. Bingley smiled comfortingly, and bowing over Jane's hand, said, "It is my pleasure to be of service."

    Kissing Jane's hand lightly, he straightened and strode swiftly to retrieve his greatcoat, cane, and hat. Pushing his arms hastily through the sleeves, and glancing once more over his shoulder, he lifted the door latch and made his way out of doors.

    "God's speed, my friend," Darcy whispered, watching the door close surely behind Bingley.

    Jane turned her eyes to her hand, gazing at the back of it and recalling the light brush of Mr. Bingley's lips. Blushing furiously at her thoughts, she quickly clasped her hands behind her. She heard Mr. Darcy rise from his seat swiftly, and turning toward him, she noted that the doctor and her uncle were slowly descending the stairs. She stepped forward, arriving at Mr. Darcy's side and watching fearfully as the two men spoke earnestly.

    "What news, uncle?" she asked worriedly.

    Stopping before his niece, Mr. Gardiner placed his hands on her shoulders and pressed them gently in the hope of giving her strength to endure what Mr. Byatt would reveal. Darcy did not miss the action, and paling noticeably at such an omen, he looked toward Mr. Byatt and asked, "What is your diagnosis, sir?"

    Breathing deeply and raising his head, he answered, "Her previous malady has weakened her so much so that her body cannot effectively fight off this new intrusion. It has fully taken hold of her; she is not herself."

    Darcy staggered slightly at this, and pressed on, inquiring fearfully, "What can be done for her?"

    Looking toward the young man, and noting his frightened countenance, Mr. Byatt sighed heavily, recognizing the reason for Darcy's concern went far deeper than a mere acquaintance with his patient.

    "I do not believe I can rid her body of the infection, for if I was to bleed her, it would surely finish her," he declared sadly. "I have given her something, and she should be sleeping more soundly."

    Jane pressed her hand to her heart as a few tears slowly descended down her cheeks and she asked disbelievingly, "Nothing can be done?"

    "Not presently," Mr. Byatt asserted quietly. "We can only wait."

    Darcy laid his hand against the banister, gripping it tightly in his frustration and closing his eyes against the knowledge that his trusted physician could do nothing in this instance. He felt the heavy weight of dread descend upon him, causing his chest to tighten painfully.

    Wishing to offer some comfort to the party, Mr. Byatt said, "I am very sorry I could not do more, but I will remain for as long as I am needed."

    Darcy listened distractedly as Mr. Gardiner quietly thanked him for his aid, and asserting a wish to return above stairs to his wife and Elizabeth, he turned slowly and guided Jane up the stairs. Looking toward them, Darcy noted that Mr. Byatt followed closely behind, and with the knowledge that he could not do so as well, for every stricture of society forbade it, he sunk heavily into his chair.

    "Please do not leave me, Elizabeth," he thought sadly, looking around the empty foyer.

    Cradling his head in his hands, his weeping soon filled the silent hallway.

    That evening, Darcy ascended the marble stairs to his townhouse, holding Georgiana's arm tightly against his body and feeling her head lay gently against his shoulder. She had drifted off to sleep several times on their drive home, her body and mind exhausted from her hours spent with the children. She had declared them sweet children, if only a little exuberant and excitable. She had spent the afternoon playing various games with them and entertaining them with stories of fairies, kings, and queens. Darcy smiled at her exhaustion, and lightly kissing her forehead, he led her carefully over the threshold and into the warmth of the expansive foyer. He quietly thanked the footman who opened the door for them and the second who arrived to retrieve their coats. Georgiana lowered her cloak from her shoulders, and turning her sleepy eyes to her brother, smiled comfortingly.

    "I am certain Miss Elizabeth will be well, Fitzwilliam," she said delicately. "She is a strong woman."

    Darcy nodded, recognizing the perfect truth in her assertion, and wishing her a goodnight, he quickly ushered her up the staircase so that she might rest. He watched her go, reflecting that she had grown into a fine woman, and felt that should God allow it, Elizabeth would help him continue to mold her. Sighing heavily, he pulled his arms out of his greatcoat, and handing it off to the footman, rolled his shoulders painfully, attempting to rid them of the stiffness that had set in during his faithful watch from his seat at the bottom of the stairs. After Miss Bennet, Mr. Gardiner, and Mr. Byatt had left him, he had remained there for several hours, waiting anxiously for news of any improvements, and fearing news that Elizabeth had worsened. Mrs. Gardiner had found him, and incredulous that he had remained in so uncomfortable a seat for so long, she quickly ushered him into the drawing room.

    "Forgive me for neglecting you so, Mr. Darcy, after all your kindness to us," she had declared worriedly once she had seen him seated on the comfortable settee.

    Darcy had shook his head vehemently and said, "There is nothing to apologize for, madam; it was I who chose to remain there. Forgive me, but I found I wished to be nearby should Elizabeth require anything that I could provide."

    Realizing he had unconsciously used her given name, Darcy blushed profusely, and attributing his inattention to his unsettled mind, he quietly professed, "Forgive my familiarity, Mrs. Gardiner; I am afraid it has been a very long day."

    Mrs. Gardiner smiled gently at him, and in her smile, Darcy saw understanding and sympathy. His eyes widened in surprise as he suddenly recognized that she had detected his preference for her niece, and sighing in resignation, he admitted to himself that he was thankful for it for hiding so strong an affection exhausted him, and he feared that in the next days he would require all the strength he had.

    "You must not apologize, Mr. Darcy," she said softly. "But I am certain Elizabeth would wish you and Miss Darcy to rest."

    Darcy looked toward her and confessed, "I am afraid of what might happen in my absence."

    Mrs. Gardiner nodded in understanding, and sitting beside him, she declared, "I do not believe Elizabeth would leave us so easily. She will return to us, most especially to you."

    Striding toward his library, the clock now striking eight, Darcy pulled frustratingly at his cravat. He pulled at its knot, and feeling himself suddenly overcome by exhaustion, he removed the fine strip of linen from his neck. On reaching the heavy door of the library, he pushed it open and smiled slightly when he noted the brightly lit fire and the welcoming aroma of fresh tea. He immediately set to retrieving a cup from the low table before the hearth, but started when he heard a familiar voice address him.

    "There you are, Darcy!" the voice exclaimed. "I have waited all evening!"

    His eyes widening in recognition, Darcy turned and perceived the figure of his cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, near the window. He set the teapot aside, and moving swiftly across the room, extended his hand and declared, "Good evening, Fitzwilliam; to what do I owe this surprise visit?"

    "I am uninterested in niceties, Darcy," Fitzwilliam said lightly, returning his cousin's grasp. "I would know where you have been all evening! And Georgiana as well!"

    Darcy smiled wryly and quipped, "Do you not trust me to take care of myself and my sister?"

    "I trust you implicitly," Fitzwilliam answered easily. "It is merely not like the two of you to be out enjoying yourselves."

    Moving toward an armchair before the fire, Darcy sunk into tiredly and asserted, "Believe me, cousin; this was not an evening of entertainment."

    Fitzwilliam's brow furrowed worriedly on hearing Darcy's serious tone. Following Darcy to his place before the chimneypiece, he listened in wonder as his cousin continued, "We were visiting an acquaintance of ours that has fallen dangerously ill."

    "Not Bingley?" Fitzwilliam asked fearfully, feeling that there were few individuals the pair knew so intimately as to cause them to visit during an illness.

    Darcy shook his head and declared, "It is someone you have never met."

    Fitzwilliam's brow knitted slightly, and taking the chair across from Darcy, he inquired, "Who then?"

    "Miss Elizabeth Bennet," Darcy admitted quietly. "I made her acquaintance during my time in Hertfordshire. She is visiting her aunt and uncle in Cheapside, and she has become quite ill."

    Fitzwilliam studied Darcy carefully, taking in his dark mien and serious expression, before he inhaled sharply. "Then it is true," he breathed out in disbelief.

    Darcy looked toward him swiftly, wondering at the motive for such an admission, and turning more fully, he asked, "Whatever do you mean?"

    Leaning forward, his light blue eyes watching Darcy sympathetically, Fitzwilliam admitted softly, "I have come to warn you and prepare you."

    Shaking his head in confusion, Darcy asked, "Whatever would you warn me of?"

    Fitzwilliam settled back into his comfortable seat and declared, "My mother and father."

    Darcy started at this, his mind naturally turning to Miss Thornton's promise that she would speak with his aunt. He had no doubt that given the opportunity of meeting with Lady Fitzwilliam today, Mrs. and Miss Thornton would undoubtedly set to abusing Elizabeth. His jaw set angrily at their interference, and he imagined they spoke cruelly. Wishing nothing more than to immediately seek out his aunt and uncle and explain to them how remarkable and deserving Elizabeth was, Darcy breathed deeply and determined that doing so when his mind was so unsettled would do no good. Glancing up, Darcy noticed that his cousin studied him carefully.

    "Tell me everything, Darcy," Fitzwilliam said expectantly, his mouth setting in a firm line.

    Continued In Next Section

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