Seen and Unseen ~ Section XII

    By Kim B.

    Beginning, Previous Section, Section XII, Next Section

    Chapter 35: An Unfortunate Interview

    Posted on 2008-12-14

    Mr. Bennet opened the door slowly, glancing around it noiselessly, in the event Elizabeth might be resting, and looking toward the comfortable bed, he smiled at the scene. Elizabeth reclined against several pillows, listening as Jane spoke quietly beside her in an effort to distract her from the physician's movements. His eyes moved over her form, watching as her chest rose and fell steadily with each breath, and a slow smile spread across her features at a bit of wit from Jane. He pressed a hand to his heart, feeling his breath hitch with the vision of his daughter. Smiling slightly, he noted that though her eyes were not their usual brightness and her complexion lacked its customary glow, it seemed that she was on the mend. Turning his eyes to Elizabeth's right, he took in the appearance of the finely dressed man. Studying the man thoughtfully, Mr. Bennet concluded this must be the Mr. Byatt he had heard of, and noted that the man held Elizabeth's wrist lightly, his face an unreadable mask of concentration. Moving further into the room, Mr. Bennet closed the door lightly, blushing when all three occupants glanced up.

    "Papa," Jane breathed out, relief evident in her voice as she smiled brightly.

    She released Elizabeth's hand, and sweeping from her seat, she crossed the room quickly to embrace him tightly. "I am so happy you have come," she declared, kissing his cheek fondly.

    He smiled, stepping back a bit to take in the appearance of his eldest daughter. He unhappily noticed the dark circles under her light eyes, no doubt the result of her passing a sleepless night by her sister's side, for he could not imagine any request from her aunt and uncle would convince her to leave. Placing his hands on each side of her face, he kissed her forehead lightly.

    Glancing over her shoulder, Jane smiled and said, "This is Mr. Byatt, Papa. He has been most attentive to Elizabeth, and we have his skill to thank for her coming back to us."

    "I will not hear such praise, Miss Bennet," Mr. Byatt answered evenly. "Much of your sister's waking was due to her own intrepidness; I did very little."

    Extending his hand, and grasping the doctor's surely, Mr. Bennet declared, "Though my daughter is quite stubborn and strong, you must not be so humble, sir. Thank you for all you have done."

    Returning the pressure of his hold, Mr. Byatt smiled briefly before nodding and returning his attention to his patient. He passed his hand over her forehead briefly, while listening closely to her breathing. Meanwhile, Elizabeth turned her face fully toward her father's voice, smiling happily at his presence.

    "Does this mean you think me unmanageable?" she asked quietly, her brow arching in challenge. "I suppose I am as incorrigible as Mama says I am, for a fever has twice attempted to do away with me, and I will have none of it."

    Mr. Byatt choked back a laugh, clearly unaccustomed to hearing his patients, especially female patients, speak so. Looking up, he awaited her father's retort, all the while retaining his hold on Elizabeth's wrist to give the appearance that he still studied her.

    Mr. Bennet drew in a sharp breath at this innocent declaration, his mind immediately returning to the torturous hours he had spent in Hertfordshire four years ago. Like Jane, he had remained by Elizabeth's side constantly, watching over her carefully for the smallest sign of her waking. When she had, and they had discovered the tragic truth of her blindness, he felt that he had utterly failed her; relegating her to a difficult life as the subject of society's censure. Yet, he had watched her strength return daily, and after a few months of Jane's gentle coaxing and his encouragement, so had her determination and fearlessness. He smiled blithely at the memory of the first time he had watched her take a turn about the garden unaided by anyone.

    Sighing slightly, and swallowing the lump he felt in throat, he declared, "You have always been rather wild."

    Elizabeth giggled quietly at this, and Jane swatted her father's shoulder lightly, admonishing him silently for his candor, and looking pointedly toward Mr. Byatt, as if to remind him that another was present. Mr. Byatt smirked slightly, however he frowned unhappily when his patient's gentle laughter elicited a bout of coughing. He aided her in sitting up more fully, and he pressed his listening piece to her chest in an effort to ascertain the severity of the attack. His brow furrowed thoughtfully, and he ignored the startled questions that followed. Releasing her, and aiding her in returning to her reclined position, he looked into the frightened countenances of her family.

    "I am afraid she will feel the effects of this fever for a few days at the very least," Mr. Byatt said slowly, his expression serious and calm. "She must be kept warm, and do not allow her to become too excited."

    Glancing toward Elizabeth, and noting in amusement that her face held the most frustrated of frowns, he asked, "Do you believe you can follow my orders despite your being wild, Miss Elizabeth?"

    Elizabeth's mouth twitched slightly, feeling her unease lessen slightly, and relaxing her brow, she nodded sheepishly. Mr. Byatt nodded his approval before confessing his desperate need for a comfortable chair and strong coffee.

    "I will check on you again before I depart for the evening," he declared before bowing to the company and turning on his heel to depart.

    Elizabeth listened to his heavy footsteps retreating down the hallway, and sighing deeply, she waited anxiously for her father and Jane to speak. She knew that Mr. Byatt's news was not welcome and she felt implicitly that her cough had terrified them. Blushing in embarrassment, she held out her hands, her fingers stretching and straining to find their forms. Jane quickly recognized Elizabeth's efforts, and taking her hand gently, sat on the bed beside her.

    "I am so very sorry for the worry I have caused you all," Elizabeth said, her face still turned in the direction she knew her father to be, for she had not heard him move. "It was reckless of me not to take more heed while I was out walking; to think the fear you must have felt."

    Elizabeth suddenly heard Mr. Darcy's quiet voice declaring, ‘You cannot know how these last hours have tortured me.' Sighing heavily, she pressed her hand to her chest, feeling the heavy weight of guilt descend upon her, and pressing Jane's hand tightly, she could not prevent the few small tears that trailed down her cheeks. She bowed her head ashamedly, feeling very foolish for them, and believing that she did not deserve to indulge her emotions in such a way after the fright she had given her family.

    Noticing his daughter's actions, and hearing the despondency in her voice, Mr. Bennet quickly strode to the other side of the bed, and sitting gingerly upon it, took Elizabeth's hand. He felt Elizabeth start at the contact, so consumed was she by her thoughts. Bringing her hand to his lips, he kissed the cool skin of her fingers fondly before clasping them surely.

    Reaching forward to smooth back the few dark curls that fell across her forehead, he confessed, "I will not deny the very great fright Mr. Bingley's news gave us yesterday evening... "

    Elizabeth sobbed lightly at this, wondering how her mother and sisters fared in Hertfordshire, most especially Mary, who like Jane, constantly worried over her. She shook her head lightly, and prepared to apologize once more, but was prevented by her father's pressing her hand beseechingly before continuing.

    "But you have nothing to apologize for, my dear. We would not see you suspend those things that give you pleasure for our comfort," he said quietly. "What may or may not occur is of little matter; I want you to live as you wish, my dear."

    Jane agreed quietly and asserted, "You must not blame yourself, Lizzy. Your only concern should be getting well."

    Leaning closer to her sister, and laying her forehead against her shoulder, Jane whispered, "Think on all the happiness that is to come for you; do not look to the past."

    Mr. Bennet's brow furrowed curiously at this, wondering what happiness Jane spoke of, and looking back to Elizabeth's face, he noted a light blush had spread across her cheeks. Her visage was turned resolutely toward the ceiling, her eyes closing peacefully, clearly attempting to follow her sister's suggestion. Her quiet sobs subsided slowly and her ragged breathing calmed; her chest falling and rising at an easier tempo. Smiling slightly, Mr. Bennet observed her silently, reflecting that whatever she thought on had caused the shadows under her eyes to lessen. He surmised that the subject of her thoughts was, perhaps at that very moment, sitting below stairs in the drawing room. Shaking his head in wonder, Mr. Bennet passed a tired hand over his face and reflected on the very great possibility that the daughter, whose future he had always feared for, had engaged the affections of one of the most sought after gentlemen in London. When Elizabeth opened her eyes and turned them in his direction, Mr. Bennet sighed sadly, feeling that such a possibility was bittersweet.

    ‘I cannot imagine Longbourn without her,' he thought despairingly.

    Feeling his eyes suddenly burn with unshed tears, he rubbed at them before smiling and asserting, "I must write an express to your mother and sisters immediately; poor Mary must be beside herself."

    "Dear Mary," Elizabeth breathed out, her eyes beginning to grow heavy with sleep. "I hope Mama does not give her too much trouble."

    "You may depend upon it my dear," he said dryly, pressing her hand. "Your mother surely retreated to the comfort of her bedroom and has spent her day calling for her smelling salts."

    Elizabeth grinned at her father's declaration, feeling it was likely the truth, but missing her home no less for it. Settling further into the warm linens, she felt her tired, cramping muscles ease.

    Breathing deeply, she whispered, "I am happy you are here, Papa."

    Before he could respond, Elizabeth's head lulled slowly to the side and her lips parted as her breaths turned even. She slept fully, for neither his nor Jane's rising from the bed drew a response from her. Leaning forward, he kissed her forehead lightly, and glancing up, noticed that his sister-in-law had entered silently and stood near the door, her arms bearing a tray of tea and biscuits.

    "Welcome, Thomas," Mrs. Gardiner said softly as she moved fully into the room and lowered the tray on the side table. "Hannah informed me of your arrival; I am heartily sorry I was not there to receive you. Edward wished to speak with me on an important matter."

    Walking to his side, she embraced him lightly and inquired, "Is Mr. Bingley not with you?"

    Mr. Bennet did not miss his eldest daughter's interested gaze settle on him as her aunt awaited his answer. Catching Jane's eye sympathetically, he declared, "No; he thought it best to return to his sister's home before the hour became too late."

    Glancing over his shoulder, he caught sight of the mantle clock and inhaled sharply when he recognized it was almost eight. "I hope your husband does not intend to keep Mr. Darcy long, for his own sister must be expecting him," Mr. Bennet added.

    Mrs. Gardiner blushed slightly, recalling the subject of the conversation her husband intended to have with Mr. Darcy. She looked toward Jane and noted that she shook her head almost imperceptibly, wishing she not discuss Mr. Darcy's rash behavior and unchaperoned visit with Elizabeth. Feeling such secrecy was a disservice to her brother, Mrs. Gardiner pressed Jane's hand apologetically before addressing Mr. Bennet.

    "Perhaps you should accompany me to the drawing room," she declared evenly. "We have much to discuss."

    His brow furrowing slightly, Mr. Bennet answered, "Forgive me, Madeleine, but I wish to remain with Elizabeth. Though I am an avid lover of good conversation, no subject could be of interest to me at this moment."

    Sighing slightly, she confessed, "I believe the subject of Edward's discussion with Mr. Darcy is Elizabeth."

    Mr. Bennet eyed her curiously, before he started in surprise, and looking toward Jane, he noted that she blushed guiltily, as if she, too, were privy to the reasons why such a discussion ought to take place. Nodding distractedly, Mr. Bennet mumbled his acceptance, and glancing worriedly toward his sleeping daughter, he followed his sister-in-law from the room.

    Darcy turned his ring in agitation as he listened to Mr. Gardiner's quiet criticisms of his behavior. Leveling his gaze on the gentleman, Darcy noted that he stood before him rigidly, his hands clasped tightly behind his back; no doubt in an effort to intimidate him. Sighing heavily, he recalled with perfect clarity his uncle's posture that morning. His mouth fell into a grim line, recollecting the harsh words the earl had used to describe Elizabeth's unsuitability, and breathing deeply, he rose from his seat. Standing at his full height, Darcy felt some satisfaction in seeing Mr. Gardiner shrink away slightly.

    "I assure you, sir, that I meant Miss Elizabeth no harm," Darcy declared firmly, his voice laced with sincerity. "I would not see her or her reputation harmed for the world."

    Mr. Gardiner shook his head lightly and observed, "Yet you seem entirely unapologetic for your behavior. You willingly placed my niece, who is only just recovering, in such a situation and then you show not even an ounce of remorse. I am greatly disturbed by this, Mr. Darcy."

    Bristling at the accusation of treating Elizabeth's welfare so flippantly, Darcy's hands curled in frustration, his knuckles whitening with the pressure. He breathed deeply, and willing himself to be calm, he took the few short steps to the hearth and leaned against the mantelpiece in exhaustion.

    Smiling sadly, Darcy asserted, "I will not apologize for my actions, however rash they may have been. My fears for Miss Elizabeth's safety were natural; I cannot and will not regret them."

    Mr. Gardiner's mouth opened wordlessly at so staunch a defense, and falling heavily into the seat behind him, he started when he heard his brother-in-law address Mr. Darcy.

    "You cannot regret what, Mr. Darcy?" Mr. Bennet questioned, moving quickly into the room, his gaze serious and jaw set firmly.

    Darcy groaned inwardly, and dropping his head against his forearm, he remained thus for a moment in an effort to calm his rising anxiety. Such an interview was not what he imagined when he requested his betrothed's hand from her father, and laughing ruefully, he raised his tired, dark eyes to Mr. Bennet.

    Meeting his gaze fully, Darcy declared, "I cannot regret asking for your daughter's hand in marriage, sir. She has done me the very great honor of accepting me."

    Darcy held his breath and watched the company carefully; Mrs. Gardiner clasped her hands together lightly, and smiled as she laid her chin against them while Mr. Gardiner's eyes widened in surprise and Mr. Bennet surveyed him incredulously. The silence seemed interminable, and pushing himself back from the chimneypiece, Darcy straightened and looked toward the company, his eyes pleading for understanding.

    Looking toward Mr. Gardiner, Mr. Bennet inquired, "Why ever would you wish him to regret such a thing, Edward?"

    "Of the proposal, I was entirely unaware," Mr. Gardiner said in amazement, and clearing his throat, he continued, "It was the manner in which it took place."

    Darcy colored at this, recalling Elizabeth's attire during their meeting, and though he recognized the wrong in it, he could not help but smile at the memory. His breath caught as Mr. Gardiner continued his explanation, and sighing heavily, he prayed silently that Mr. Bennet would not call him out immediately.

    Glancing quickly toward his wife, Mr. Gardiner pressed on, declaring, "Mr. Darcy's private interview with Elizabeth took place in her bedroom, entirely devoid of any chaperone."

    Mr. Bennet inhaled sharply, his eyes narrowing protectively, but on turning toward Mr. Darcy's form, he noticed that young man gazed at him beseechingly; his dark eyes revealing the entirety of his intentions and the depths of his heart. Mr. Bennet wavered in indecision, for he knew the proper response would be to demand recompense and satisfaction, but he could not ignore the utter happiness that suffused Elizabeth's countenance when she was in Mr. Darcy's company.

    ‘Think on all the happiness that is to come for you,' Jane had whispered so surely to Elizabeth.

    Sighing slightly, Mr. Bennet recognized that this happiness did indeed include Mr. Darcy. Squaring his shoulders, he moved forward until he stood before him.

    Smiling wryly, Mr. Bennet declared, "Such a conversation cannot take place in the presence of a chaperone; the subject is far too sensitive."

    Darcy's brow rose in wonder, taken aback by so curious a response. Eyeing Mr. Bennet speculatively, Darcy carefully asked, "May I request the honor of your daughter's hand, sir?"

    Though he had expected to hear such an appeal, Mr. Bennet could not help but look astonished. Catching the gazes of Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, he asked quietly if they would leave him for a moment. Mrs. Gardiner quickly assented, and taking her bewildered husband's arm, led him from the room. When he heard the door latch fall securely into place, Mr. Bennet returned his attention to Mr. Darcy, gesturing for him to resume his earlier seat. He noted that the young man watched him carefully, attempting desperately to ascertain his answer to the question as he fell into the comfortable armchair. Mr. Bennet lowered himself onto the settee, and sighing in resignation, he admitted he could not grant such a request before being assured of the degree of Mr. Darcy's affections.

    Looking seriously at the man before him, Mr. Bennet declared, "Forgive me, Mr. Darcy; but I find myself quite overwhelmed by the events of the day. If you would indulge me, might you be willing to begin again, perhaps by explaining how you find yourself attached to my daughter? I cannot imagine she is the type of companion your family desires for you."

    Darcy's mouth set firmly, a vision of his uncle's unhappy countenance flashing before him, and gritting his teeth anxiously, he confessed, "No, sir; she is not."

    "I see," Mr. Bennet answered sadly, settling back into his seat and steepling his fingers in thought. "I thought as much; for all Lizzy's beauty, talent, and intelligence, many see nothing beyond her condition."

    Shaking his head in disappointment at so cruel a world, Mr. Bennet added, "Society has never been accepting of those it deems unworthy, and I am afraid when Elizabeth woke four years ago to a darker world, she became an undesirable to those who did not know her."

    "Not to me," Darcy said, his voice breaking slightly at the sentiment.

    His brow arching curiously, Mr. Bennet asked, "Am I to understand you care nothing for your family's opinion? Nothing for the opinion of those that know you?"

    Crossing his arms firmly and his jaw straining in annoyance, Darcy answered evenly, "I require nothing from them, least of all their approval. Those that matter to me already adore your daughter, sir; I can ask for no more than that, and I require no more than that."

    Mr. Darcy willed his breathing to calm, closing his eyes momentarily to regain his equanimity. Mr. Bennet watched this action carefully, noting that Mr. Darcy's face slowly relaxed under the spell of whatever thought he indulged. Shaking his head, he admitted that his peaceful countenance mimicked that which Elizabeth adopted only minutes before.

    Leaning forward, Mr. Bennet observed, "There shall be some who will believe you are out of your senses to form an alliance with her, but this would be nothing if you really loved her."

    Darcy looked pensively at his signet ring, turning the gold form idly, and feeling its smooth surface slide along his skin. Breathing deeply, he declared resolutely, "I do; I do love her."

    Turning fully toward Mr. Bennet, he continued, "I am quite convinced that if they only knew her generous nature, intelligence, and goodness, they would not judge her so harshly, but recognize what I see in her. She is truly the most remarkable woman I have ever known."

    Mr. Bennet remained silent, his eyes studying Mr. Darcy's face and noting how he blinked rapidly to rid his eyes of unshed tears. Rising from his seat, he looked down on him and declared, "If this be the case, then you deserve her. I could not have parted with her to anyone less worthy."

    Darcy's eyes widened as Mr. Bennet offered him his hand, and smiling gratefully, Darcy stood and clasped it surely. "You have my word that she will never regret her decision, sir. I will make her happy."

    "I am certain you will," Mr. Bennet answered thoughtfully, his mind turning to his wife's response to such news.

    Undoubtedly, she would cry out happily, feeling the entirety of her worry for Elizabeth's future comfort appeased. She would quickly change into her best day gown and set to visiting Mrs. Philips, Mrs. Long, and Lady Lucas; women who, though close friends, had daughters of their own, and therefore became her opponents when any marriageable man came into the neighborhood. Laughing lightly, Mr. Bennet moved back to his seat and recollected how easily his wife had discounted her daughter's intended as a possible suitor, how adamantly she disagreed with his opinions, and how lacking she found his character.

    Darcy watched the man before him curiously, wondering what reflection amused him so greatly. Shaking his head lightly, Darcy cleared his throat quietly in an attempt to draw his attention once more. Mr. Bennet looked toward him, amusement still filling his grey eyes. Smiling apologetically, Mr. Bennet quietly choked out that he wished him to reclaim his seat once more and remain only a little longer.

    "I know you must be impatient to return to your sister," Mr. Bennet added, his equanimity returning.

    Darcy nodded and declared, "I am, sir; most especially now that I have such news to impart."

    He blushed, his mind slowly turning over the idea of Elizabeth as his intended, his wife, and his future. Closing his eyes, he savored the happy feeling welling within him. The previous night he had sat before the roaring fire in his chamber's hearth in only his shirtsleeves and breeches, despairing if Elizabeth should ever awaken. In the blackness of his sorrow, he had imagined arriving at the Gardiners' home and discovering that he had lost her forever. He sighed, recalling the fear that struck when he saw the maid's tears. Until that moment, he had never known himself; he felt his heart wrench in terror, and before he realized it, his legs were carrying him swiftly up the stairs.

    ‘I must have terrified that poor woman,' he thought wryly, reflecting that he should apologize to the maid at the earliest opportunity.

    Opening his eyes, he looked back to Mr. Bennet, and catching his gaze, waited patiently for him to continue. Mr. Bennet leaned comfortably against the arm of the settee and declared seriously, "You must have reconciled yourself with just how difficult this engagement may prove to be or you never would have sought her acceptance in the first place. Are you certain you are aware of how your acquaintances will react?"

    "I am very conscious of what their feelings will be," Darcy answered flatly. "If they disapprove of Miss Elizabeth, then they are not worth my knowing."

    Mr. Bennet smiled, recalling how often he had felt the same sentiment and preached a similar declaration to his wife. Nodding in understanding, he said, "You are an intelligent man, Mr. Darcy."

    His color heightening at the compliment, Darcy only nodded and listened as Mr. Bennet continued, "I never imagined I would see Elizabeth leave my home in such a happy way; I am very glad to have been wrong."

    "As am I," Darcy declared quietly.

    "Off you go then," Mr. Bennet said merrily. "I am certain my brother and sister are just outside the door and you may say farewell to them as you go."

    Darcy smiled slightly, hearing a light scuffling just beyond the oak doors as the Gardiners recognized they had been discovered. Rising from his seat and bowing low, Darcy said, "I wish you a pleasant evening, Mr. Bennet. I am very happy you have come to London."

    Looking up at the taller gentleman, Mr. Bennet wished him a good night and declared, "Should you notice any other young man in the hallway who have come to declare themselves, send them in, for I am quite at leisure, and have four more daughters."

    Biting back a laugh, Darcy smiled broadly and said, "Of course."

    With that he departed, quietly greeting the Gardiners as he walked by them, and thanking them for their understanding and patience, he made his way to the foyer. Once there he pushed his arms into the thick sleeves of his greatcoat, and pulling the fine leather gloves on his hands, he moved out into the biting cold of the evening. Fixing his hat upon his head, Darcy smiled, and breathing deeply, allowed the icy air to fill his lungs. Moving toward his horse, which Mr. Gardiner had been kind enough to see blanketed and fed, Darcy raised himself into the saddle. His body protested the movement, so desperate was it for food and respite. His legs ached as they pressed against his stallion's strong sides in an effort to urge him forward. Glancing over his shoulder, Darcy's dark eyes took in the appearance of the Gardiners' home, his gaze drifting to the upper floor and the window he knew to be Elizabeth's. A light golden glow emanated from it, and he imagined she slept peacefully under her sister's gentle watch. Sighing contentedly, Darcy felt at ease with the knowledge his beloved was recovering, and he might visit her tomorrow with impunity. Returning his attention to the road before him, he goaded his horse into a faster trot toward his home, and felt that on this night he would sleep well.

    Georgiana awoke the following day, smiling broadly as she bounded toward her vanity and called for her maid. So anxious was she to make her way downstairs, she quickly set to untying the small strips of cloth that bound her light brown coils. As each tendril fell to her shoulder, she thought on the previous evening and her worry over her brother's absence.

    She had waited nervously for him in the drawing room, attempting in vain to occupy herself with her music and painting. Her anxiety grew to fear though, as the sun set and the hour grew late. She paced fretfully, wringing her hands and listening carefully for the sound of hoof beats outside. At half past nine, she heard one of the footmen hurry toward the front hall, and rushing after him, Georgiana arrived in time to see her brother shaking snow from his coat sleeves and hat before laying them aside.

    Flying toward him, she had exclaimed, "Fitzwilliam George Darcy; where have you been?"

    He had turned toward her in wonder, clearly surprised by the vehemence with which she spoke, but so frightened by his long absence, she refused to relax her crossed arms or furrowed brow.

    "You do not send even a note to tell me you are well? That Miss Elizabeth is well?" she cried anxiously. "For all I knew, you could have been abducted by highwaymen!"

    Darcy watched his young sister in wonder, his brow rising in astonishment as he took in her flushed countenance and narrowed eyes. He reflected on her declaration, and smiling slightly, asked, "Highwaymen? On the streets of London?"

    Georgiana blushed at this, but squaring her shoulders, she quickly replied, "Gypsies then!"

    He laughed openly at this, his dark eyes sparkling with merriment. In that moment of abandoned joy, Georgiana knew that all was well, and she felt her anxious mind and stiff muscles ease.

    "Perhaps I should better monitor what you are reading, dearest," Darcy said quietly before kissing her forehead lightly.

    With that, he moved past her and walked in the direction of the drawing room. Georgiana followed closely at his heel and inquired, "How can you speak so calmly? How can you laugh at my worry? I have been waiting all day for news of you and Miss Elizabeth, and you sent none."

    Darcy moved a strong arm about her shoulders, and tucking her against his side, he continued to stride toward the glowing room before him. "You are perfectly right; it was very boorish of me not to send word," he admitted softly. "All did not go as I planned."

    Georgiana eyes widened, and paling noticeably, she halted their progress. The abrupt action caused her brother to turn his attention to her, and looking at him imploringly, she asked, "Has Miss Elizabeth's condition worsened?"

    Recognizing the fear in her voice, and cursing himself for not easing her anxiety more quickly, Darcy shook his head and declared, "No, no; she is awake and recovering. Her father has arrived in London to be with them."

    His sister sighed in relief and inquired apprehensively, "And she has suffered no ill effects?"

    Darcy's brow furrowed slightly, and praying softly she had not, he said, "Let us hope not, but when I saw her she looked quite well."

    Georgiana's eyes widened brightly, and gripping his arm in anticipation, she exclaimed excitedly, "You have seen her then! Have you declared yourself?"

    Blushing noticeably at having his sister's attention so decidedly focused on him, Darcy looked toward the floorboards and said, "I have; and she has accepted."

    Georgiana watched in amazement as he smiled broadly before moving quickly into the drawing room. She stood still for a moment, her mind filling with images of Elizabeth's presence in their home and her laughter filling the too oft silent hallways. Recalling her brother's promise to reveal the whole of his conversation with Elizabeth, Georgiana smiled mischievously and skipped after him.

    Now, studying her reflection, Georgiana laughed lightly, remembering how vehemently he had denied ever making such a promise. She questioned him incessantly as he ate the pork, greens, and biscuits the cook had prepared for him on hearing of his return. He relented only when he escorted her to her door for the evening, and she had listened attentively. Hearing her door open slowly, Georgiana quickly instructed her maid, and within half an hour, she was prepared for the day, her form and complexion complimented handsomely by the pale green gown she wore. She moved swiftly toward the breakfast room, hastily pulling a finely woven shawl about her shoulders. Arriving at its doors, she paused and listened when she discerned the voice of her cousin. Smiling at so unexpected a visit, she pushed the doors slowly open and glanced into the room. The two gentlemen rose from their seats at the polished oak table when they noticed her entrance. Looking toward her brother, she noticed that his color was somewhat heightened, but quickly dismissed it, believing it to be only the product of his present happiness.

    "Good morning, brother; Richard," she greeted pleasantly.

    Darcy moved to her side, and kissing her cheek lightly, saw her to her seat. Resuming his own, he invited his cousin to do the same before declaring evenly, "Continue, Fitzwilliam. I would dearly like to know the rest of what you have come to tell me."

    "Perhaps this can wait until after breakfast, Darcy," Fitzwilliam declared carefully, glancing pointedly at Georgiana.

    "There is nothing you can say that Georgiana cannot hear," Darcy answered shortly. "And if my uncle is on his way here at this very moment, I would wish her to be prepared for him."

    Georgiana's brow rose slightly and she asked, "My uncle is to come?"

    Looking darkly at Darcy, the colonel quickly answered, "He is, dearest."

    Darcy took up his coffee, and drinking it slowly, settled back into his seat. Studying his cousin, he said softly, "Please, do go on."

    Fitzwilliam sighed in resignation, and smiling apologetically at Georgiana, he declared, "He hopes he may appeal to your sense of ‘familial dignity,' as he called it, once more in the hope you will abandon your intentions toward Miss Bennet."

    "He will be sorely disappointed," Darcy bit out, his fingers straining against the delicate china cup he held.

    "So I told him," Fitzwilliam answered before turning his attention to the eggs and toast before him.

    Georgiana's eyes grew wide with worry, and she asked disbelievingly, "Uncle seeks to prevent Fitzwilliam from marrying Miss Elizabeth then?"

    Nodding sadly, her cousin confessed, "He does indeed."

    Biting her lip fretfully, she cried, "But whatever for? He does not even know Miss Elizabeth! Surely if he was to see how she and Fitzwilliam care for one another he would... "

    Darcy pressed her hand imploringly, silencing her anxious declarations and declared, "I am afraid it is not so very simple. Your uncle's reasons for disapproving of the match run far deeper."

    Georgiana studied her folded hands intently, listening to her brother continue, his voice laced with disappointment, "I suppose he still believes me an unfit guardian for Georgiana."

    She inhaled sharply at this, and looking toward her brother fearfully, she said firmly, "He cannot think that; he must know how good you are to me. I cannot imagine a better or kinder brother."

    "Thank you, dearest," Darcy declared, kissing her hand lightly. "I am happy you feel so, but that does not lessen our dilemma."

    Setting his fork aside, Fitzwilliam admitted, "My mother attempted to calm him last night, explaining to him how wonderfully Georgiana has grown under your care. I am afraid he is quite unmoved."

    "That is unfortunate," Darcy said sadly.

    Looking toward his sister, he noted that her eyes had filled with tears. His brow furrowing in concern, he swiftly made his way to her side and kneeled by her chair. Retrieving his handkerchief from his waistcoat, he pressed it gently into her hands and asserted, "I shall see that nothing takes you from your home, dearest."

    Georgiana nodded meekly, dabbing at the tears that now trailed down her pale cheeks. Darcy watched wretchedly, gripping the carved arm of her chair tightly in frustration. Bowing his head, he prayed silently that his uncle would see reason.

    "You are a most morose pair this morning," Fitzwilliam said lightly, smiling in an attempt to lighten the unhappiness which had descended on them. "It is no wonder I do not eat here more often; the atmosphere of a crypt is far more pleasant."

    Despite the gravity of his thoughts, Darcy could not help but laugh softly at his cousin's assertion. Shaking his head and rising from his position, Darcy looked toward him and declared with mock earnestness, "No, Fitzwilliam; you do not eat here more often because we do not invite you."

    Fitzwilliam crossed his arms in mock indignation and said, "That is a fine way to treat your only ally."

    Georgiana could bear no more, and despite the force with which she bit down on her lip, she could not help but laugh. She fought valiantly to stifle the giggle, but soon her eyes filled with happy tears as she listened to her brother and cousin's banter.

    "I am very glad your brother's rudeness brings you such pleasure, Georgiana," Fitzwilliam declared easily.

    Before she could reply, a footman entered, and looking gravely at the company, bowed and informed his master that the Earl of Matlock had arrived for him.

    "Shall I escort him to the library or study, sir?" the footman asked.

    Darcy looked thoughtfully at his plate, his complexion heightening slightly as he thought on his previous meeting with his uncle. Glancing toward Georgiana, he noticed unhappily that she paled noticeably, studying her plate intently and shaking slightly. Not wishing to unsettle her further, Darcy rose from his seat and instructed the footman to escort the earl to the study.

    "That will not be necessary," the earl asserted as he walked rigidly into the room.

    His light brown eyes scanned the room swiftly, settling on the form of his son, and raising a curious brow, he declared flatly, "I thought you said you would not break your fast with us this morning because you had business to attend."

    Fitzwilliam's jaw set, and rising from his seat beside his cousin, he answered firmly, "Yes, sir; the business I had was with Darcy and Georgiana."

    Hearing his niece's name, the earl suddenly recognized her presence, and his gaze softened slightly as he looked toward her. Georgiana glanced over her shoulder at him, managing a small nod and greeting him softly.

    "Forgive me for interrupting your meal, dear," the earl declared before adding, "But I would speak with your brother."

    Georgiana turned her frightened eyes to her brother's form, and noticing he gripped the table, his knuckles turning white with the pressure, she recognized that despite his earlier confidence, he feared this interview with her uncle. Breathing deeply, she placed her small hand over his and pressed it gently.

    Darcy tore his heated gaze from his uncle, and looking to Georgiana, watched in wonder as she rose from her seat and said, "I gather that the subject of your conversation concerns my brother's future happiness, and therefore, you shall speak with me as well."

    "Really, Georgiana; I think it best you go to the music room. You can practice your pianoforte," her uncle commanded gently, though his face flushed slightly at her declaration.

    Raising her chin slightly, and willing her voice steady, she declared, "I will stay."

    His heart welling with pride for his sister's steadiness, Darcy moved behind her and quietly thanked her before returning his attention to his uncle. Extending his hand, he said carefully, "You are welcome to join us."

    "I have already eaten," the earl said brusquely.

    Without another word, he moved forward and settled himself in the chair across from Darcy's, tossing his cane and greatcoat carelessly onto the back of a vacant chair. The rest of the company wearily reclaimed their seats, watching the earl intently. The earl noticed their gazes and his frown deepened, realizing he must begin.

    "Since Georgiana insists on remaining, I must warn you that her presence will not temper my conversation in any way," he declared firmly. "I will be heard."

    "I would expect no less, uncle," Darcy said steadily.

    "Very well then," the earl professed, nodding his head in acceptance. "I have come, as I am certain my son has already informed you, so that I might make you see the folly of your decision."

    Leveling his dark gaze on the older gentleman, Darcy declared, "You already have my answer."

    "But it will not do!" the earl exclaimed hotly. "Are you truly going to offer yourself to this woman?"

    "I already have," Darcy answered quietly. "And she has accepted me."

    Fitzwilliam's eyes widened at this declaration and he cried, "Well you are a fine one for keeping secrets! Congratulations, old man!"

    Before he could extend his hand, Fitzwilliam caught the disapproving gaze of his father, and blushing slightly, turned his full attention to his coffee. Georgiana watched her uncle wearily, and noting his color heightened dangerously, she could imagine his thoughts on his son approving so heartily of her brother's engagement. Biting her lip, she braced herself for his response.

    "Congratulations?" the earl bit out incredulously. "What congratulations can there be in damning yourself to a life of being scorned by those who would esteem you? You are willfully blind, nephew, if you cannot see what you have done."

    "I see what I have done," Darcy said, his voice rising with every word. "I have secured my future happiness and engaged the affections of a worthy woman. I can think of no one better suited to be my wife."

    "And what of your cousin, Anne?" the earl asked. "What of your duty to your family?"

    Georgiana inhaled sharply at this, recalling with perfect clarity the thinly veiled hints her Aunt Catherine had made during her last visit. She watched as her brother blinked slowly and shake his head in wonder.

    "On more than one occasion, I have made my feelings known on that matter," Darcy declared evenly. "I bear no love for my cousin Anne beyond that of familial affection."

    "It was agreed upon!" his uncle cried.

    Rising from his seat swiftly, Darcy said firmly, "Not by me or Anne from what I understand. Even if I wished it, I would not force her into a marriage she did not want."

    Leaning forward in his chair, the earl declared, "The agreement between the two of you is of a peculiar kind; since her infancy we have been planning the union."

    "My mother never said anything of it to me," Darcy said quickly, stepping away from the table and moving toward the chimneypiece. "Nor my father."

    To this, the earl had no answer, and wringing the napkin in front of him agitatedly, he asked, "You will not renounce your engagement to this Miss Bennet?"

    Turning fully toward his uncle, Darcy clasped his hands tightly behind his back to hide the quake he felt in them and declared, "I will not."

    "Then this home is no longer fit for Georgiana," the earl said sadly. "Nor is Pemberley for that matter."

    Taking the few strides between himself and his sister swiftly, Darcy stood behind her, and placing his hands firmly on her shoulders, he declared, "That is her decision; if she feels that I have done her a great wrong in engaging myself to Miss Elizabeth, then she may go, but you will not take her against her will."

    Georgiana gazed up at her brother; she saw in him as he gazed at their uncle the same steely determination that had overtaken him the previous summer at Ramsgate. His shoulders squared rigidly, and though his hold on her shoulders was firm, it was gentle, and belied his desperate need to protect her. Looking toward her uncle, she cleared her throat lightly to regain his attention.

    Breathing deeply, she said steadily and slowly, "I will not leave my brother."

    The earl looked on his niece in wonder, her new assertiveness alien to him and unwelcome. He pursed his lips in disapproval, and rising from his seat, he declared, "My sweet niece is already transforming after so short an acquaintance with this woman; such insolence."

    Darcy released Georgiana's shoulders, his eyes narrowing and nostrils flaring angrily. Moving toward his uncle, he demanded, "Leave this house at once, sir. You may say whatever you desire to me, but I will not hear you abuse Georgiana or Elizabeth in such a way."

    Bowing his head curtly, the earl looked toward his son and said, "I will see you for supper, Richard; we will speak of your behavior then."

    His son's gaze on him never wavered as he answered, "I will be dining with Darcy and Georgiana this evening."

    Realizing his son had made his decision, the earl declared, "I am not in the habit of approving of such folly and madness; you will not see me in this house again."

    Turning on his heel, he departed, his fine leather boots banging angrily against the polished marble as he walked. Darcy listened to his retreating footsteps, and hearing the front door bang closed in fury, he quickly knelt by Georgiana's side. He opened his arms to her and his young sister swiftly threw herself into his embrace. Darcy brushed back her curls and held her tightly.

    "I will not go, Fitzwilliam," she whispered.

    "No, you shall not," Darcy answered softly, his gaze rising to the empty hallway beyond.

    Chapter 36: Restoration

    Posted on 2008-12-27

    The next days passed slowly for Elizabeth, and the fourth day following Mr. Darcy's departure from Gracechurch Street found her listening anxiously to the sounds outside her window. She sighed heavily, the thick shawl arranged over her shoulders shifting with the movement. Jane, the Gardiners, and her father had taken Mr. Byatt's recommendation to heart, and insisted Elizabeth remain in her room so that she might rest and be kept from drafts until she felt her strength fully returned. Pulling the shawl about her shoulders, she pressed her ear more firmly against the cold windowpane, and closing her eyes tightly, focused on the bustling on the street below. She heard the merchants calling out their prices, and children charging heedlessly between passing carriages and horsemen, while their governesses raced frantically after them. She laughed lightly, but frowned, for she had yet to hear the one sound for which she desperately longed; the maid greeting Mr. Darcy below. Shaking her head sadly, she settled back into her seat and reached her fingers tentatively out to the small table beside her. Finding it, she ran her fingers carefully across the smoothly polished wood until they encountered the cloth binding of the small volume she knew to be there. She smiled triumphantly, for during several previous attempts, she had knocked it to the floor and was forced to search the carpet for it.

    ‘At least I am able to touch this,' she thought bitterly, running her fingers over the binding and wishing instead that she might touch the hands of the man who brought it to her.

    Sighing deeply, she recalled that Mr. Darcy had called each day since her father's arrival, only to be told she could still accept no visitors. This was not out of malice or disapproval of him, but as a result of Mr. Byatt's orders; Elizabeth was relegated to her room, and Mr. Bennet did not approve of the idea of Mr. Darcy visiting her there again. Elizabeth smiled at the memory of him, and she longed to speak with him and be in his presence. Pressing the volume to her chest, Elizabeth thought on their engagement, and was heartily pleased that her father had granted his approval.

    "Are you certain you wish to accept this man?" he had asked her incredulously the day after Mr. Darcy requested her hand. "Have you thought on it and determined that you will be happy with him?"

    She had twisted the blankets at her waist fretfully, fearing her father had rejected him his suit, and breathing deeply, she asked, "Do you disapprove of the match, Papa?"

    "No, indeed," Mr. Bennet said quickly. "Not only is he the kind of man to which I would not dare refuse anything... "

    Elizabeth smiled merrily at this, silently relishing this slight allusion to her beloved's features and character. She listened intently as her father continued, "But despite our short acquaintance, I find that I trust him implicitly. His manner, though serious, is entirely unaffected, and his care for you is... most heartening."

    Pressing her hand lightly, Mr. Bennet declared softly, "I have always feared you would not encounter that individual who understood you so completely or held you in such esteem."

    Nodding sadly, Elizabeth admitted that some months before, she had almost despaired of finding such a person, but added, "I could not imagine anyone more suited to me in taste and interest than Mr. Darcy."

    Leaning forward, Mr. Bennet kissed her forehead lightly and said, "Then I will welcome him as a son. While I was rather disappointed Mr. Collins did not make any of my girls an offer, for he would have been quite an entertaining addition to our holidays and celebrations, I believe I shall like your husband even more."

    Now, as she leaned her head back against the window frame and raised the book to her lips, she thought pleasantly, ‘My husband.'

    Lowering the book, she reflected on Jane's giving it to her the previous evening. After the rest of house retired, Jane left the warm comfort of her own room and walked noiselessly to hers, greeting her quietly before sitting beside her on the bed. She told her that Mr. Darcy visited again, as he had the previous days, and once again their aunt had apologized and made known that Elizabeth was still too weak to leave her room.

    "He did take tea with us though," Jane had said pleasantly. "Papa seems quite taken with him."

    Smiling at such news, Elizabeth had quickly asked for a detailed account of the conversation and all of Mr. Darcy's manners. Jane happily obliged, and once she had related all of Mr. Darcy's opinions, she reached for Elizabeth's hands.

    "Before he departed, he asked that I give this to you," Jane had declared, pressing the volume into her grasp and closing her fingers over its binding. "He said you are its rightful owner. I thought it best not to present it to you earlier, when Papa and our aunt and uncle were here. I knew not whether Papa had granted Mr. Darcy leave to give you gifts."

    Sighing happily, Elizabeth moved her fingertips over the front of the book, feeling the gold embossed letters beneath them. Jane did not need to tell her that it said "Coleridge," for Elizabeth knew the volume's weight and size easily, having studied it many a night during those weeks of his absence. A soft knock at the door pulled Elizabeth from her reverie, and shaking her head slightly, she laid the book aside and tried in vain to push her thoughts of Mr. Darcy aside. Turning in the direction of the door, she made known that the person beyond could enter, and she listened as Jane greeted her.

    "So you are awake," Jane declared as she moved into the room.

    Elizabeth nodded, and crossing her arms unhappily, she answered, "I am indeed; despite what everyone believes, I am feeling quite well. I would like to eat luncheon below stairs today."

    Eyeing her sister speculatively, and studying her countenance carefully, Jane inquired, "Has Mr. Byatt told you that you are fit enough to venture downstairs?"

    Blushing guiltily, Elizabeth turned her visage toward the floorboards nervously and said simply, "Not exactly."

    Shaking her head at Elizabeth's attempt to escape her sickroom, Jane pressed her hand in empathy and declared firmly, "Then here you must remain."

    Looking down on Elizabeth, she noted that her color heightened in frustration and dissatisfaction. Jane smiled slightly, easily recognizing how difficult this forced rest period must be for her sister. Before she could continue, Hannah entered and bobbed a quick curtsy.

    "Your aunt asked me to fetch you, Miss Jane," she said. "Mr. Darcy has arrived and your uncle has invited him to luncheon."

    Jane heard Elizabeth inhale sharply, and studying her carefully, she saw Elizabeth's green eyes turn sadly toward the window. Feeling that she could not subject her sister to such disappointment, Jane reflected that perhaps seeing Mr. Darcy would raise Elizabeth's spirits.

    "Thank you, Hannah," she said evenly. "Please tell my aunt that I will join them shortly."

    Hannah smiled, and turning to depart, was prevented by Jane calling her back and adding, "Inform her that Elizabeth shall be joining us as well. I will help her dress."

    Her brow rising in wonder, Hannah studied the sisters, and saw that Miss Elizabeth smiled brightly at her sister, her color rising merrily. She wavered for a moment; knowing Miss Elizabeth was to remain in her room so that she might recover fully, and she was certain Mrs. Gardiner would have told her if Mr. Byatt's orders had changed.

    Shaking her head with finality, Hannah declared, "I believe it is best if Miss Elizabeth remained. I will bring her a fine soup and keep company with her until you have returned, Miss Jane."

    Elizabeth raised her chin defiantly, and standing from her seat quickly, albeit shakily, she said, "I would like very much to join the company. I am feeling much more myself, and I believe it could do me no harm."

    Sighing slightly, Hannah bit her lip thoughtfully and declared carefully, "I suppose if you dress warmly and take the seat nearest the fire, you would not catch a chill."

    Smiling happily, Elizabeth thanked her and looked toward her sister expectantly. Hannah quietly departed and moved swiftly down the hallway to deliver the news. Elizabeth laughed lightly, for she heard the maid rehearsing what she would say to her mistress. Feeling Jane's gentle touch at her elbow, Elizabeth turned toward her.

    "You are certain you are feeling enough recovered?" Jane asked, her eyes filled with concern.

    Elizabeth nodded vehemently, and laying her hand over Jane's, she whispered, "Thank you."

    Kissing Elizabeth's cheek lightly, Jane quickly clasped her hand and led her forward to the trunk at the bottom of the bed. "Let us ready you then; I wonder what color Mr. Darcy prefers you to wear."

    Elizabeth blushed noticeably, and moving her hand along the top of the trunk, kneeled before it. Running her hand along the edge, she found the lock and opened it.

    Darcy leaned forward slightly, studying the black and white figures before him, his eyes falling on the simply carved knight. Glancing up, he noted Mr. Bennet watched him carefully, weighing his reactions and attempting to read his thoughts. Turning his eyes back down to the board, Darcy wavered in indecision, his mind turning between accepting defeat and assuring his victory. His eyes drifted to the pawn closer to him, taking in its diminutive size and turning his ring thoughtfully.

    "Do what you must, young man," Mr. Bennet said wryly, his brow quirking slightly as he watched Elizabeth's intended closely.

    Darcy started at this, and looking up swiftly, recognized Mr. Bennet's amused smile. Mr. Gardiner chuckled softly from his seat near the fire, and folding his paper, settled back into his chair so that he might better watch the match. "He is correct, Mr. Darcy; you cannot delay the inevitable."

    "Are you saying that you believed my defeat was unavoidable, Edward?" Mr. Bennet asked in amusement.

    "He is an intelligent opponent; I played him yesterday," Mr. Gardiner said, standing from his seat and moving toward the table.

    Sighing dramatically and crossing his arms, Mr. Bennet leaned back in his seat and cried good-naturedly, "And you did not warn me? You willingly allowed a lamb to enter the lion's den?"

    Darcy watched in amazement as Mr. Gardiner laughed heartily, and Mr. Bennet joined him soon after. Shaking his head in wonder, Darcy reflected that he had never encountered opponents who took their defeats so lightly. Smiling apologetically at Mr. Bennet, Darcy moved his hand to touch the top of the knight.

    "Checkmate," he declared quietly, sliding the knight forward toward Mr. Bennet's king.

    Mr. Bennet watched the action silently, a ghost of a satisfied smirk brightening his features. Extending his hand forward, he said, "Well-played, Mr. Darcy."

    Darcy released the breath he had been holding, and smiling nervously, clasped Mr. Bennet's hand surely. "You as well, sir; you almost had me several turns back," he admitted, his color heightening as Mr. Gardiner clapped him on the back in congratulations.

    "Almost," Mr. Bennet answered, settling back into his seat. "You are far too humble, for I believe you saw each of my pitfalls before I even thought of them. Wherever did you learn to play so well?"

    "My father," Darcy said simply, his mind turning back to the many hours spent in the library at Pemberley, sitting across from his father in just such a way. "He enjoyed the game very much, and when I expressed an interest, he decided that teaching me would furnish him with a worthy partner."

    Mr. Bennet chuckled lightly and declared, "Then your father and I were of the same mind; that is the exact reason I taught my Lizzy."

    Darcy smiled at the mention of her name so casually, and recalling his desire to challenge her to a match, he hoped he might have the opportunity before her departure from London. His mouth fell slightly, and set into an unhappy line when he recollected why she was not at his side now. Each day he had spoken with Mr. Byatt and asked after Elizabeth's progress, and each day Mr. Byatt's answer failed to satisfy him. Mr. Byatt still expressed a concern for Elizabeth's persistent cough, and felt that exposing her to any chance of drafts would do her no good. While Darcy agreed heartily that she should remain in the comfort and warmth of her bedchamber, he could not help but regret it, for doing so prevented his seeing her. He sighed unconsciously and passed a frustrated hand through his dark hair.

    Mr. Gardiner looked toward him, and taking his sudden shift in temper to mean he thought on his departed father, he declared comfortingly, "My wife tells me your father was an excellent man."

    Darcy startled from his thoughts, blushing slightly when he realized hi inattention to the presence of the other gentlemen. Nodding, he confessed, "He was, indeed."

    Mr. Gardiner smiled in response, and Mr. Bennet looked on in approval, feeling, though he had heard nothing of Mr. Darcy's business dealings or property, that he would be just like his departed father; a benevolent master and landlord. The three men fell into a companionable silence, and sounds of the crackling wood behind the iron grate in the hearth filled the room until Mrs. Gardiner appeared in the doorway to call them to luncheon.

    "Very good!" Mr. Gardiner exclaimed merrily, leading the men out into the hallway. "I find that I am in great need of a hearty meal after chess!"

    Smiling wryly, Mr. Bennet declared, "But, Edward, it was not you who played."

    Pausing in his progress toward the dining room, Mr. Gardiner looked thoughtful before admitting, "True; but I will enjoy it nonetheless."

    Clapping his brother-in-law on the back, Mr. Bennet laughed and continued down the hallway. Darcy smiled, enjoying so happy a familial scene, and reflecting that he looked forward to many an afternoon spent in such a way. He clasped his hands behind his back and began to follow after them, but paused when he heard a creak on the landing above. Glancing upward, his breath caught when he noticed Elizabeth stood at the top of the stairs. Her sister declared she wished to fetch Elizabeth her heavy green shawl, and instructing her to wait but a moment, moved down the hallway. Elizabeth nodded her approval, and folding her hands, assumed a patient stance. Watching her carefully, Darcy noted with delight that Elizabeth's eyes lit mischievously, and grasping the banister, she smiled and slowly began her descent. Biting back a laugh, Darcy stepped forward noiselessly so that he might assist her should she require it. His gaze followed her, taking in her light green gown, the sleeves of which fell delicately to her wrists, and the small cross at its customary place at her throat. Stepping close to the banister, and placing his hand upon it, he waited patiently.

    Elizabeth concentrated on each step, ensuring that with each, her footing was sure, for she felt it would not do to tumble. She smiled slightly, imagining Jane's reaction when she returned to find she had descended the stairs alone. Shaking her head, she knew that Jane would gaze at her in disapproval, but would soon after forgive her willfulness. Laughing lightly, she grasped the banister more tightly and concentrated on the feeling of the smooth wood beneath her palm, but startled and paused when she felt her fingers encounter those of another.

    Pressing her other hand to her chest in surprise, she declared, "Forgive me; I was not aware anyone was there."

    Darcy smiled and said seriously, "I fear it is I who must beg for your forgiveness, Miss Elizabeth. I did not mean to startle you."

    "Mr. Darcy!" she cried, her color heightening. "I had thought you in the dining room!"

    "Do you wish me to go there now?" he asked playfully. "If so; I shall be happy to oblige at once."

    "No!" Elizabeth exclaimed, pressing the fingers beneath her own imploringly to stay his progress. "I did not mean that I wished you away."

    Darcy's smile broadened, and his dark eyes danced happily at her declaration, and resting his other hand gently over hers, he stroked her knuckles lightly. "I do not believe I would be able to leave you, even if you wished it," he said quietly.

    Elizabeth listened as he moved around the banister and up the few stairs swiftly to stand on the step beneath her, all the while retaining his hold on her hand. She felt the heat rise quickly to her cheeks, and her heart beat erratically at the knowledge of his being so near, and breathing deeply, she willed her voice steady so that she might address him.

    "I would never wish you away," she promised evenly.

    Passing his fingers once more across the back of her hand, Darcy raised it to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Straightening, he guided her slowly down the remaining stairs before placing her hand at his elbow. He reflected how he had missed having her delicate fingers curled about his sleeve, and tucking her arm more closely to his side, he smiled contentedly.

    "I should insist that you return above stairs at once," Darcy declared.

    Elizabeth's eyes widened, and turning toward him, she asked, "Why ever would you insist on such a thing?"

    Facing her fully, and clasping both of her hands lightly in his own, he answered, "I do not believe Mr. Byatt would approve."

    Tired of having her actions restricted in such a way, Elizabeth slid her hands from Darcy's grasp and crossed her arms over her chest indignantly. "I will not be shut away like some fragile thing," she asserted hotly.

    Recognizing the displeasure in her voice and the fiery annoyance that entered her eyes, Darcy placed his hands lightly on her upper arms and said, "I do not wish see you shut away."

    Elizabeth's muscles relaxed slightly beneath his hands, for he had taken to moving them up and down her arms rhythmically in an effort to calm her. She listened intently as he added lightly, "I would miss you far too much, my love."

    She blushed at the sentiment, and felt her earlier displeasure melt away under his gentle ministrations and the pleasant memory that as her betrothed, he could now say such things to her. Darcy watched her carefully, and reaching for her hands, continued, "I also do not believe you in the least bit fragile."

    Smiling apologetically, Elizabeth leaned forward slightly, savoring the warmth of his person, and declared, "I know you do not."

    Unable to resist the temptation, for he had missed her presence over the past days, Darcy raised his hand to her cheek and stroked it lightly with his fingertips. His dark gaze traveled over her features, and he smiled when her eyes drifted closed and she leaned her cheek further into the warmth of his palm.

    "Please take care though," he whispered, his fears for her voicing themselves as if of their own volition.

    Elizabeth's eyes opened, and covering the hand on her cheek with her own, she lowered it and held it fast. Recalling the pain she had caused him, and the torment in his voice the day she woke, she felt her chest tighten sadly.

    "I promise," she answered softly.

    She raised her hand to his jaw, and tracing two fingers along it gently, she felt its strength flex beneath them. She heard him inhale sharply at the touch, and smiling archly, she lowered her hand and asked, "Are you not happy I have elected to disobey Mr. Byatt and spend an hour in your company?"

    Darcy glanced about the hallway, listening closely for the approach of the others, and hearing nothing, he turned fully toward Elizabeth and reclaimed her hands. Sighing in resignation, he declared, "Despite my better judgment, I am quite happy you are here. I have missed being in your presence."

    Elizabeth smiled brightly as he continued, "And I suppose I am to expect this kind of... rebelliousness when we are married?"

    Though her heart raced at his words, she feigned a wounded expression and said innocently, "My mother has always thought me rather wild, sir."

    Darcy bit back a laugh at the image of the querulous Mrs. Bennet frantically chasing a young Elizabeth about the lawn of Longbourn. Shaking his head in amusement, he declared, "I will have to remember to speak with her about that next time we meet."

    Elizabeth arched her brow in challenge and pressed his hand fondly. They remained still for a moment, enjoying each other's company, until they heard Jane close her chamber door with unnecessary vigor. Elizabeth felt Darcy's hold on her hands lessen, and he started at the noise. She imagined he blushed guiltily, his profound sense of propriety screaming at him that they had been alone too long. Smiling comfortingly, she slid her hand back to his elbow and pressed his forearm in encouragement. She listened as Jane descended the stairs, her gown sliding gracefully behind her, and her slippers landing delicately on each step. Feeling certain Jane would not approve of her descending the staircase independent of aid, Elizabeth turned expectantly toward the sound of Jane's footfalls and was not disappointed.

    "Elizabeth Bennet," Jane said warningly, gathering her skirts and moving quickly down the remaining stairs. "I ask you to remain but a moment, and this is your reply?"

    Elizabeth opened her mouth to answer, but was prevented by Mr. Darcy declaring, "I must apologize, Miss Bennet, for I had no idea you had asked your sister such a thing. When I noticed her on the landing, I offered her my arm. You have my word, I would not have let any harm befall her."

    Jane eyed the pair speculatively, her brow furrowing, for she was certain she had not heard Mr. Darcy's boots on the stairs. Smiling wryly, she professed, "I believe you will do very well for each other."

    Darcy's eyes widened at so curious a statement, and looking toward Elizabeth, he noticed that she bit her lip in an effort to quell the laughter she felt rising within her. Feeling certain some unspoken understanding passed between the sisters, Darcy thought it best not to ask.

    "I believe you are right, Jane," she declared surely, smiling brilliantly.

    Jane watched Mr. Darcy smile at her sister fondly before covering the hand on his arm with his own. She smiled in satisfaction at so happy an outcome, and moving forward, laid the shawl she carried over Elizabeth's shoulders and said, "At least calm our anxieties slightly by wearing this."

    Elizabeth thanked her quietly, and adjusted it more securely, before allowing Mr. Darcy to lead her toward the dining room. She breathed deeply, enjoying the cool air of the hallway rather than the stuffy, stagnant air of her bedchamber. She listened to their steps echoing on the floorboards, and though she felt her limbs still protest at the movement, she enjoyed walking, and felt herself invigorated by the exercise. She could do naught but smile, and holding the shawl tightly at her throat, warded off the chill she felt penetrating her gown. As they entered the dining room, her smile fell slightly when she heard the light creaks of the chairs, and she imagined the rest of the company turned to watch her entrance. She felt their gazes studying her, looking for any sign of fever or dizziness, and praying that her complexion had improved, Elizabeth forced the smile to return to her face.

    "Good afternoon, everyone," she said pleasantly.

    Darcy paused in his progress and glanced at Mr. Bennet, who had by now stood from his seat and stared at his daughter in surprise. Despite the thickness of his wool sleeve, Darcy felt Elizabeth's small fingers grip his upper arm more tightly, and realizing she feared the others would demand that she return to the warmth of her room, Darcy cleared his throat to address them.

    "Miss Elizabeth expressed an interest in joining us for luncheon," he declared calmly in an effort to fill the silence that had descended upon the room.

    He immediately blushed, recognizing how inane a declaration it was, and sighing slightly, he awaited the comments of the company. He watched Mrs. Gardiner walk quietly forward and take Elizabeth's left hand in her own.

    "Hannah has told us as much, but are you quite certain you feel up to it?" she asked worriedly, her soft brown eyes studying her niece's form carefully.

    Before Elizabeth could answer, Mr. Bennet's brow furrowed in displeasure, and he said evenly, "I wish you would place more faith in Mr. Byatt's recommendations, Elizabeth. He believed you would do better to remain above stairs a little longer. You are not yet yourself."

    "I am feeling like myself again," Elizabeth declared firmly. "I believe I require only a little exercise."

    Breathing deeply and shaking her head sadly, she added quietly, "I have had to remain far too idle these last few days."

    Mr. Bennet nodded his head reluctantly, and lowering himself into his own chair, said, "Very well, but I will not have Mr. Byatt blame me for your disobeying him."

    Darcy moved forward, leading Elizabeth to a vacant chair and inviting her to sit, he declared, "I will speak with Mr. Byatt; he has the best of intentions, and there is no better physician in London, but some of his recommendations tried even my mother's patience."

    An image of his mother during the final year of her illness flashed sadly in his mind; her beautiful dark eyes shadowed by deep circles from her sleepless nights and her once lively complexion changed to a lighter pallor. Closing his eyes against the picture, Darcy attempted to calm his mind. He opened his eyes slowly and settled his gaze on Elizabeth, noticing that her brow furrowed slightly in concern, for she had noticed his sudden silence. Recalling his fears only a few days before, and the desperation he felt, he laid his hand gently on her shoulder.

    "Miss Elizabeth will inform us should she feel herself chilled," he said seriously.

    Though the others could not, Elizabeth heard the gentle entreaty in his voice, and nodding vehemently, she promised she would. She listened as Darcy moved away to take his seat on the other side of the table. He remained silent, adjusting his coattails before lowering himself into the chair. Sighing slightly, she wished desperately for another opportunity to speak with him in private, to assure him that she would endeavor to remain healthy.

    ‘He should not have to fear what will become of me,' she thought sadly.

    Biting her lip, she forced these unpleasant thoughts from her mind, and focused her attention on his conversation. Her aunt asked after his sister, and hearing that she was quite well and diligently seeing to her studies, she inquired what subjects occupied her time.

    "She has become quite enamored with the German composers," Darcy answered. "She spends many an hour in the music room, attempting to mimic their artistry."

    Elizabeth paid heed to every word, for she wished to learn all she could of the brother and sister's quiet life together. She wondered how she would fit into their lives after they had been alone for so long, but after recalling the warmth with which Miss Darcy had welcomed her into their home and Mr. Darcy's elation as he walked slowly with her through the halls of his home, she felt at ease.

    "Is your sister often out in society?" Mrs. Gardiner inquired.

    Darcy shook his head lightly and declared, "Unfortunately, no; she is somewhat shy. I am afraid I have indulged her taciturn nature, because I am not fond of being out among the ton."

    "You do not attend many balls then?" Mr. Gardiner asked as he set to cutting his cold pork.

    Smiling slightly, Darcy confessed, "I do not enjoy them so much as my friends and family would wish me to; I find them quite overwhelming."

    Elizabeth smiled at this evidence of his shy nature, remembering how he had confessed as much to her months before. She was thankful when her father agreed and said, "I cannot agree with you more, young man. I have attended but a hand full of these London balls; they are horrid. There is more talk of silks and plumage than there is dancing!"

    The party laughed heartily at this, and Darcy, leveling his gaze on Elizabeth, declared, "They are rarely worth my attending; I prefer good conversation with pleasant, intelligent company."

    Raising his glass slightly and nodding, he added, "Such as I have found here."

    Mrs. Gardiner blushed at the compliment, and Mr. Gardiner beamed happily. Smiling in approval, Mr. Bennet returned his attention to his meal as Mrs. Gardiner said easily, "I imagine you spend much time in the company of your aunt and uncle when you are in town."

    At the mention of his uncle, Darcy swallowed his bite of salad harshly and dropped his fork to his plate with a loud clatter. He mumbled an apology for his inattention and clumsiness, and declared flatly, "We have been often in their company; my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam has dined with us each day this week."

    He fell silent, reaching toward his water and sipping it slowly in an effort to cool his rising annoyance. Despite his efforts, he could not rid himself of the resentment he felt over his uncle's passionate refusal of his blessing, and the accusation that in choosing to marry Elizabeth, he had proven to be an improper choice of guardian for Georgiana. Fitzwilliam had spent much of his time with them over the past days, for after his father's unfortunate visit to Darcy's home, he had become determined to exile himself from his father's house until a time when the earl would act and speak more civilly to Darcy. Darcy was moved by his cousin's staunch defense of him, and glancing toward Elizabeth, hoped he might introduce him to her soon.

    Elizabeth noticed the darkness in his tone, and having only heard it when he spoke of Mr. Wickham, she wondered at the reason for it. Her brow furrowed worriedly, and she wished desperately that she might see his countenance to ascertain what he was feeling. She laid her fork aside, and reaching toward Jane, who she knew her to be at her left, she pressed her hand gently. Jane turned toward her sister questioningly and softly inquired if she required anything. Elizabeth shook her head slightly before inclining her head in Mr. Darcy's direction, hoping Jane would understand her concern. Recognizing Elizabeth's worry, Jane studied Mr. Darcy's countenance carefully.

    Mr. Gardiner, too, noticed the change in Mr. Darcy's mood, and hoping to divert his attention, he declared, "I am very glad to have you with us, Lizzy. I have missed your conversation."

    The effect of this declaration was immediate, for Darcy's hard gaze softened and his fingers paused in twisting his napkin mercilessly. Looking to Elizabeth's face, he noted that her eyes were filled with unease, and he immediately regretted allowing his annoyance at his uncle to so easily affect him.

    Smiling softly, Darcy said, "As have I."

    Elizabeth blushed at so open a revelation, and feeling the heat rise to her cheeks, she pressed her napkin to her lips in an effort to hide her blush. Darcy noticed the action, and suddenly recognizing the frankness with which he spoke, he turned his eyes to his plate and added quickly, "We all have, I am sure."

    Mr. Bennet watched the scene in amusement, so delighted was he by Mr. Darcy's discomfiture and stumbling words. Taking in Elizabeth's rosy complexion, he laughed lightly and declared, "We have indeed."

    The remainder of the meal passed pleasantly for the company. Elizabeth attempted valiantly to converse with Mrs. Gardiner and Jane, but her attention repeatedly turned to Mr. Darcy's discussion with her father and uncle. She listened to his strong, even voice speaking to them of his estate, and Jane was forced to repeatedly call for Elizabeth's attention. Blushing profusely, she would apologize for her distraction and return her attention to her aunt's gentle observations. Had Elizabeth known that Mr. Darcy suffered a similar problem, she would have been much comforted, for he too strove to hear her voice and thoughts above Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Bennet's discussion.

    The company retired to the drawing room for a short time before Darcy professed a need to return to his sister. "I have promised to take tea with her," he said, rising from his seat and adjusting his waistcoat.

    Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner stood as well, and smiling pleasantly, Mrs. Gardiner declared, "We are happy you could join us. Please tell Miss Darcy that we look forward to meeting with her again soon."

    Smiling easily, Darcy answered, "I will, madam. She is very anxious to see you all."

    Turning his dark gaze to Elizabeth, he added quietly, "Most especially you, Miss Elizabeth."

    Elizabeth smiled broadly, and rising from her place beside Jane on the settee, she said, "I would like to visit with her as soon as I am able."

    Darcy smiled, and stepping toward her, agreed happily to the plan. He bowed respectfully to Mr. Bennet and declared, "I thank you for our match, sir. I hope we may play again soon."

    "Though I am certain I am likely to lose again," Mr. Bennet began wryly, extending his hand to Mr. Darcy, "I would happily accept the challenge."

    Grasping the proffered hand, Darcy thanked him and listened as Mrs. Gardiner offered to see him to the door. Elizabeth quickly stepped forward and declared, "I shall as well."

    Nodding gladly, Darcy guided her hand to his arm, relishing the touch of her fingers on his sleeve as he turned to follow Mrs. Gardiner from the room. She walked swiftly and soon outstripped them. Darcy soon heard her call for the footman to fetch his things, and Darcy smiled happily at the opportunity to be alone with Elizabeth if only for a moment.

    Pressing her arm affectionately, he declared, "I am happy I had the opportunity to see you today."

    Elizabeth smiled in response, and recalling her earlier concern for him, she inquired, "Is everything well, Mr. Darcy?"

    Darcy paused in his progress toward the foyer and said simply, "Fitzwilliam."

    He watched as Elizabeth's brow furrowed slightly in confusion before a delightful blush spread up her neck, brightening her complexion. Raising his hand to cover hers, he ran his fingers lightly over her skin and added nervously, "I hope you will call me ‘Fitzwilliam' as you did the other day. I... I wish you would."

    Elizabeth's eyes danced happily, and nodding, she happily acquiesced and said, "Fitzwilliam you shall be then."

    Darcy's heart swelled with the sound of his name spoken so easily by her, and closing his eyes briefly to memorize it, he moved to continue walking and declared huskily, "Thank you."

    Unwilling to allow him to escape her earlier question, Elizabeth pressed his hand to stay his movement and professed, "I hope all is well, Fitzwilliam."

    Elizabeth felt the muscles of his forearm tighten beneath her fingers, and having her suspicions swiftly confirmed, she pressed on saying, "If you will not tell me, I can only assume it has something to do with your uncle and aunt."

    She heard him exhale sharply, and closing her eyes, she raised her chin and continued, "Your reaction to the mention of them at luncheon leaves me to believe that you have announced our engagement to them and did not receive a favorable reply."

    Biting her lip, she waited for him to deny her assertion, but hearing no refutation from him, she nodded sadly and whispered, "I expected as much."

    Hearing the despondency in her voice, Darcy started, and reaching for her hands, moved in front of her and declared, "I care not for their opinion, Elizabeth."

    "But I care," she answered sadly, bowing her head to hide the tears she felt stinging her eyes.

    Sighing heavily, Darcy said firmly, "I will not be in their company if they mean to mistreat you. You will be my wife, and you will be treated with all the respect that is your due as Mrs. Darcy."

    Glancing over his shoulder, and noticing that Mrs. Gardiner was quite occupied with her instructions to the footman, he stepped closer to Elizabeth and laid his forehead against hers. Closing his eyes, he vowed, "One day they will regret their disapproval, but I will not wait for that day before we wed. Georgiana adores you, and I am certain my cousin will as well when you make his acquaintance, but even their approval means nothing to me."

    Elizabeth shook her head in disbelief, but remained silent as he added, "Only you; only you matter."

    Before he could continue, they heard Mrs. Gardiner clear her throat lightly, and Darcy immediately stepped back to a proper distance, blushing noticeably and silently berating himself for once again floating propriety in this house.

    Sighing in resignation, Darcy confessed reluctantly, "I must leave before your aunt, uncle, and father have me thrown from the house."

    Nodding in acceptance, Elizabeth forced herself to smile slightly, and breathing deeply, she declared, "I fear you are right."

    Shivering slightly, she added quietly, "And I fear I have had enough excitement for one afternoon."

    Darcy studied her carefully, and smiling in satisfaction, he said seriously, "I shall leave you then. Perhaps you will feel up to a visit from Georgiana tomorrow?"

    "I would like that very much," Elizabeth answered happily.

    She smiled when she felt him reach tentatively for her hand, and raising it, kissed it reverently before returning it to her side. "Until tomorrow then," he declared before turning on his heel and moving into the foyer.

    Elizabeth listened as he thanked the footman for his greatcoat and hat, and wished her aunt a polite farewell. She folded her hands in front of her, biting her lip to brace herself against the inevitable click of the door closing behind him. Reminding herself that he would return the following afternoon, she waited for her aunt to come to her side. Soon she felt her gentle touch at her elbow and Elizabeth smiled in response.

    "Shall we rejoin the others?" she asked, smiling pleasantly.

    Elizabeth nodded and wrapped her shawl more tightly about her shoulders. Putting her arm about Elizabeth's shoulders, Mrs. Gardiner embraced her lightly, and together the two women walked slowly back to the drawing room.

    Lady Matlock looked up at the edifice before her, taking in the large glowing windows and sighing slightly. The footman before her held out his gloved hand, silently awaiting her descent from the carriage. Realizing that returning home without even speaking with her nephew would be fruitless, she raised her chin confidently and replaced her fretful expression with her practiced mask of serenity. She lowered herself gracefully to the cobblestone, thanking the young man beside her with a brief nod. After smoothing the creases from her gown and adjusting the delicate closure of her cloak, she ascended the stairs. Entering the foyer, she felt suddenly nervous, and despite her best efforts, her hands quaked slightly when she lowered her cloak from her shoulders. A maid arrived and curtseying, quickly offered to take her ladyship to her master in the drawing room.

    "That is quite all right," Lady Matlock declared evenly. "I know the way."

    Removing her fine leather gloves from her hands, she handed them over to the confused young woman, and sweeping her finely embroidered skirts aside, she moved past her down the hallway. Lady Matlock studied the walls as she walked, taking in the large oil landscapes that graced the walls, and smirking slightly, she reflected that her nephew's taste was far better than his father's. Approaching the drawing room, she heard her nephew's deep voice followed by her niece's delicate laughter. She paused in the doorframe, gazing into the room and taking in the scene before her.

    Her niece pressed her handkerchief to her eyes, gently dabbing away the merry tears that fell from them. Darcy stood before the hearth, smiling broadly and continuing his witty story-telling as her son crossed the room and handed him a tumbler of brandy. Lady Matlock smiled, her arresting light blue eyes widening in surprise at the pleasant atmosphere. Never had she seen her nephew act so, his handsome countenance lightened with his laughter and his dark eyes dancing in merriment. Shaking his head lightly, he moved toward the chair to Richard's left and sunk into it in content exhaustion.

    "I cannot account for it, Fitzwilliam," he declared lightly. "The man actually appeared happy to lose the match!"

    Breathing deeply, and willing her giggles to calm, Georgiana said, "Perhaps that is because you would never feel so."

    Darcy pressed his hand to his heart in mock offense and exclaimed, "Are you saying I act boorishly when I lose?"

    Resuming his own seat, Fitzwilliam professed dryly, "You do brood after a defeat, Darcy."

    "Brood?" he asked in astonishment. "When have I ever brooded?"

    Georgiana and Fitzwilliam exchanged amused glances before laughing heartily at Darcy's expense. Darcy frowned slightly and declared, "This is a very fine thing; being mocked in one's own house by one's family."

    Lady Matlock pressed her hand delicately to her lips to stifle her laughter, but was too late, and the young company turned amazedly toward her. Their merriment ceased as they stared her and she blushed slightly in embarrassment for being caught so.

    "Good evening," she declared quietly.

    Darcy rose from his seat, his previous joviality and lightness erased and his shoulders setting rigidly. His lips pursed nervously, and breathing deeply, he said, "Good evening, aunt."

    Continued In Next Section

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