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Chapter 41: Returns and Repercussions

Posted on 2009-02-09

Elizabeth ran her hand over the gown Hannah had just handed her, smoothing out its creases before laying it among the others in the trunk. Smiling in satisfaction, she sat back upon her feet, and reached up to close the heavy lid. She worked the latches, finding that the left one easily moved into place while the right stubbornly remained open.

Frowning in annoyance, she exclaimed, "Ridiculous old thing! Continue in this way, and I shall be rid of you!"

Swatting lightly at it, Elizabeth crossed her arms indignantly and sighed in exasperation. She remained thus until she heard Hannah laugh lightly.

"Fear not, Miss Elizabeth," Hannah said comfortingly. "I shall see that it is set to right. Surely you must wish to visit with everyone instead, seeing as you will be leaving in an hour."

Elizabeth allowed herself to smile, and rising from her position, she straightened her skirts and declared, "You are perfectly right. Thank you, Hannah; you have been enormously good to me, even though I caused quite a bit of trouble during my stay."

Hannah watched her mistress' niece smile guiltily, and waving her hand dismissively, she said, "There is nothing to thank me for; off with you now."

Smiling once more, Elizabeth laid her hand on the bed and slid it across until her fingers encountered the coarse wool of her shawl. She counted her steps out into the hallway and fixed the garment about her shoulders. Pausing at the top of the stair, she reflected on her weeks in London.

'It is remarkable what can happen in so short a time,' she thought, her mind turning to Mr. Darcy's proposal and his quiet tears of relief when she accepted him.

Pressing her fingertips to her lips, she recalled the kiss they had shared, and feeling the heat rise to her cheeks, she pushed such thoughts aside and slowly descended the stairs. She paused at the bottom when she heard the maid hurry into the hall and move to open the front door. Arching her brow, she listened carefully as the new arrival stepped into the warmth of the foyer, and hearing his deep voice quietly thank the maid for taking his hat, Elizabeth smiled brilliantly.

Darcy pulled his arms from his greatcoat and his hands from his fine leather gloves before handing them to the maid also. He smiled at her and thanked her once more before turning toward the room. His gaze was immediately arrested by Elizabeth's form, smiling broadly and waiting patiently on the last stair. Breathing deeply, he immediately strode toward her, heedless of the young maid who watched in amusement before hurrying away.

Elizabeth heard the eager pound of Mr. Darcy's boots against the floorboards, and grinning happily, she declared, "Good day to you, Mr. Darcy."

"So you do know the sound of my step," he said easily, arriving before her, and swiftly claiming her hand with his own.

"I told you I did," she answered, pressing his hand fondly. "Did you not believe me?"

Shaking his head, Darcy admitted, "Of course I believed you, but it amazes me to witness it. I am honored you know me so well."

He glanced around the hallway, and seeing no one, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed each knuckle slowly, before guiding her down the final step to his side. "And are you well today, my love?" he asked, studying her countenance carefully.

Elizabeth blushed at his easy use of the sentiment, and biting her lip thoughtfully, she committed the sound to memory, to help ease the ache she was sure to feel during his absence. Raising her face to him, she answered, "I am, indeed; if only a little melancholy."

"Over what?" he inquired, his brow knitting with the worry that she might be fearful of the repercussions of Miss Bingley's selfish treachery.

Smiling at the concern in his voice, she pressed his hand more firmly and declared lightly, "I am to leave today; I would have hoped you, too, felt some sense of sadness at being so cruelly separated from me."

Darcy watched the mischievous spark light her green eyes, and having no doubt she knew exactly how desolate he would be without her, he raised his other hand to her cheek and cupped it gently. He heard her inhale slightly at the touch, and smiling, he said firmly, "Surely, you must know how I will grieve your absence. I have become very dependent on your presence."

Elizabeth closed her eyes and focused on the warmth of his palm against her skin. Sighing slightly, she asked desperately, "How long until you will come to Hertfordshire?"

Raising his gaze thoughtfully to the ceiling, Darcy declared, "Perhaps two weeks; it will take Bingley that long to even write to his staff to see that the house is prepared."

He heard Elizabeth sigh unhappily at his joke, and returning his dark eyes to her face, he added softly, "I would follow you tomorrow if I could."

"I know," she said contentedly, her small smile returning.

Hearing voices from the dining room, Darcy was reminded that they were hardly alone, and placing one last kiss on her hand, he stepped back to a respectable distance. Reaching into his jacket, he retrieved a small volume, its dark red leather binding worn and broken from many readings. Taking hold of Elizabeth's hand again, he curled her fingers around the book and watched as she moved her fingertips over it.

Her brow furrowing curiously, Elizabeth asked lightly, "You dare to lend me another book after I took so long returning the first, Mr. Darcy?"

Laughing softly, he pressed her hands more tightly about it and declared, "No, madam; this one is a gift."

She smiled, running her fingers over the spine and feeling the creases in it. "May I ask about it? It seems as if it has been loved dearly," she said seriously.

"It was a gift from my mother," Darcy answered, moving beside her and opening the volume to its first page. "She gave it to me the spring before she left us."

Clasping Elizabeth's hand gently, he raised it and pressed her fingertips to the page, moving them slowly over the small inscription written in an elegant hand. "'To my Fitzwilliam; so that you might miss me less,'" Darcy read quietly. "She bid me read it when I missed her company. It was one of her favorites."

Elizabeth imagined Lady Anne, a woman undoubtedly as striking in character and posture as her son, realizing how early she would be leaving her family and the pain it must have given her. She felt her chest tighten at the thought, and moving her fingers to grip her beloved's, she turned her face to him.

"Who is the poet?" she inquired softly, shaking Darcy from his reverie.

He turned his dark eyes to her, and only then realized how close they were, both bent over the small volume in their hands. "How do you know it is poetry?" he asked huskily, studying her features carefully.

Smiling easily, she declared, "Given your penchant for verse, I only assumed you inherited it from your mother."

"You are perfectly correct," Darcy said, a small smile lightening his serious mien. "It is a selection of John Dryden's work."

Nodding, she declared, "Then you must read them to me when you join us in Hertfordshire, for my father has yet to read me anything but his translations."

"None of his poems?" Darcy asked, closing the volume slowly, but retaining his hold on Elizabeth's hand.

"Not a one," Elizabeth said simply, shrugging lightly.

Darcy studied her for a moment, his mind turning over their moments alone and their few embraces. Pressing her hand to his chest he said, "'My ravished eyes behold such charms about her, I can die with her, but not live without her.'" *

Smiling happily, Elizabeth declared, "Those are very pretty words, Mr. Darcy."

"They belong to the poet; not to me," he said, smiling easily, a dimple appearing in his cheek.

"Fear not; I shall not tell Mr. Dryden you borrowed them," she quipped, before ducking her head and kissing his hand lightly.

Darcy watched the innocent action, his gaze following her movements intently, and his heart beating more swiftly when her lips pressed against the juncture of his thumb and forefinger. Before he knew what he did, he lowered his face to hers and caught her lips gently with his own. He saw her eyes widen in surprise before drifting closed blissfully, and sighing against her lips in satisfaction, he wound his arms around her waist and pressed her to his chest.

Elizabeth felt the small, almost forgotten volume pressing into the small of her back, for though he held her, he still retained his hold on it. She found it easy to ignore the slight discomfiture as the man before her entirely overwhelmed her senses. Slowly, she moved her hands up his chest and settled them on either side of his neck. Despite his neckcloth, she felt his pulse racing beneath her fingertips, and she relished in the realization she had so profound an effect on the normally composed Mr. Darcy. She smiled against his mouth and lightly traced his jaw with her thumbs, feeling the muscles there flex as he deepened their kiss.

Darcy felt her touch as if it were fire on his skin, and moving one of his hands to her face, he reluctantly pulled back, his breathing ragged. "Forgive me, my love, but you know not what you do to me," he said softly, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm his heart. "I lose all mastery over my desires and convictions in your presence."

Elizabeth grinned, her own chest rising and falling quickly to regain her composure. "Never apologize for that, my dearest Fitzwilliam," she said softly.

Kissing her lips once more, Darcy unwound his arm from her waist and brought the small volume up between them. Settling her fingers on it once more, he said, "It is yours now, and I promise I shall read it to you when we are together again."

"You do not need to give me gifts," Elizabeth declared firmly, holding the book against her and turning her face to him.

"It is something that has lightened my heart during many an hour when I felt the loss of my mother's company," he said evenly.

Pressing his hand to her face, he traced the line of her chin before moving his thumb across her slightly swollen lips. Smiling lightly, he added, "When you feel bereft of my company, it may help."

"Then it shall not leave my hands," she answered, her fingers tightening on the spine. "I feel I will need it every moment of these next two weeks."

Hearing her father's laughter from the dining room and sighing reluctantly, Darcy dropped his hand to his side. Seeing that they were still quite alone, he leaned close to her.

"The next present I shall give you will be your wedding ring," he whispered happily, before kissing the bottom of her ear gently and stepping back.

Elizabeth smiled brightly at him, and felt him reach for her hand and lay it on his arm. She pressed his elbow fondly, memorizing the feeling of his steady arm beneath the fine wool jacket, and nodding slightly, she let him know she was prepared to join her family so that he might take his leave of them.

Miss Bingley distractedly stabbed at the cold pork in front of her with her fork, pushing it around the plate and ignoring her brother's jovial voice. He spoke animatedly with their sister about his meeting with Jane Bennet again, and though he said nothing of his intentions, Miss Bingley discerned that if nothing was done, she would soon be forever tied to the Bennets. Sighing dramatically, she dropped her fork to her plate with a loud clatter, drawing the attention of the rest of the party. She was displeased to see her brother's merriment immediately dissipated as he studied her, his mouth setting in a firm line.

Setting aside his glass, Bingley asked evenly, "Are you unwell, sister?"

"Quite unwell, Charles," she said. "For your behavior towards me these last days has been unforgivably rude."

"And your behavior towards the Bennets has been unforgivably cruel," he answered flatly, leveling his serious gaze on her.

Pursing her lips in dissatisfaction, Miss Bingley raised her chin defiantly and declared hotly, "I still do not see that I have done anything wrong. Why are you upset with me for expressing my very real concern over poor Miss Darcy's welfare? Is it wrong of me to care for the girl's future as I do?"

"There is no one who knows better than Darcy what is best for his sister," Bingley said seriously, turning his eyes toward his plate. "He would never encourage her to have a friendship with Miss Elizabeth if he believed it would not be of great benefit to her."

"Of what benefit can it be to Miss Darcy to have a blind, country nobody as an acquaintance?" Miss Bingley asked in annoyance, her eyes flashing angrily at the thought of Elizabeth being so often in the Darcys' presence. "In fact, I am happy to hear the Bennets are bound for Hertfordshire today!"

Bingley looked toward his sister and declared darkly, "I will ask that you temper your opinion of the Bennets in front of me, Caroline. I will not hear anything against them."

Miss Bingley watched her brother carefully, seeing his gaze level on her in disappointment. She breathed deeply to calm her frustration before saying, "Very well, brother."

Mrs. Hurst watched her siblings warily, and shaking her head, she felt that her sister would never feel anything but disdain for Miss Elizabeth and her family. Her brother nodded in acceptance, and returned his attention to his soup.

In an attempt to lessen her brother's displeasure, Mrs. Hurst said evenly, "I wish I might have met with Jane Bennet once more before their departure."

Smiling, he declared, "You will meet again with her soon, I am sure."

Mrs. Hurst nodded as Miss Bingley studied her brother intently. Her brow rising in curiosity, she said, "But we do not know when they are to return to London."

"I did not say Louisa would meet with Miss Bennet in London," Bingley said easily, his eyes sparkling in amusement.

Both sisters looked at him in wonder as he added, "She may meet with her in Hertfordshire again."

Bingley's smile broadened and he noted Caroline shifted slightly in her chair and clutched her napkin. Her eyes widened with the realization of his intention to return to the country.

"You cannot be serious," she whispered in disbelief.

"I am," Bingley said evenly.

Mrs. Hurst's brow furrowed deeply, and setting her fork aside, she asked, "Whatever are you talking of, Charles?"

Miss Bingley rose from her seat, the highbacked chair falling over with the force of her movement. "He intends to return to Netherfield," she said bitterly, looking at her brother in disappointment.

Bingley's gaze turned serious and he declared, "That is exactly what I intend."

Miss Bingley inhaled sharply and she swept toward the window swiftly in disgust. Mr. Hurst listened to the conversation, and laying his napkin aside, he professed, "I think it a fine idea. I can put my new musket to use."

His wife looked at him pointedly before asking, "Are you absolutely certain, Charles?"

"Yes," Bingley said, his voice sure and steady. "I will return there next month."

"To pursue Jane Bennet!" Miss Bingley bit out harshly, her gaze remaining on the scenery outside. "You are a fool to believe her a suitable match. You do not know what you are about!"

Bingley listened to his sister's assertions calmly, and standing slowly from his seat, he leaned his hands upon the Hursts' polished table and looked carefully at Caroline. "I am entirely sensible of what I am doing," he said. "If Miss Bennet will forgive my appalling cowardliness in being persuaded against her last fall, then I hope we might begin anew."

Miss Bingley reared angrily on her brother and declared, "Such a connection will ruin us. You have no care for what our acquaintances will say."

"I believe they will see in Miss Bennet what I do; she is someone who is sensible, kind, and capable," Bingley said, as he moved around the table and strode toward the door.

"I will not accept her as a sister!" Miss Bingley cried, her eyes narrowing in displeasure. "I will not be subjected to the company of the Bennets! No; I cannot bear it."

Bingley's color heightened with his sister's words, and his light eyes blazed furiously, his customary good humor forgotten under her relentless spite. "The decision is mine, Caroline," he said darkly. "And should you not accept my decision, then you should keep in Louisa's good graces, for her home will be the only home in which you are welcome. You shall not be welcome in mine."

With that, Bingley grasped the door handle firmly, and swung the heavy oak door wide as he prepared to depart. He paused suddenly, a slight smile lightening his features and his eyes sparkling with mischief.

'It is best she knows now,' he thought, glancing over his shoulder.

Turning back to the company he declared, "Oh, and I have had some news from Darcy."

Miss Bingley immediately straightened at this, her color calming slightly and her brow rising with interest. She listened in amazement as her brother revealed, "He is to marry Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and I am quite happy for them."

The effect of his words was immediate; Miss Bingley looked stricken, her heightened complexion immediately paling as the color fled her face. Her eyes widened in astonishment before narrowing slightly as she declared, "That is a very cruel joke, Charles."

"It is no joke," he said gently, for though he found his sister's behavior appalling, he had little wish to see her irrevocably wounded. "I assure you, I am telling you the truth."

"This is not to be borne!" Miss Bingley exclaimed, her fists curling in frustration.

Bingley shook his head and said slowly, "If you value your friendship with Miss Darcy and your place in this family, you would do well to begin treating the future Mrs. Darcy and her family with the respect they deserve."

Bowing slightly to Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, Bingley turned on his heel and stepped out into the hallway. Before he closed the door behind him, he heard Caroline release a strangled, angry cry. He sighed, feeling that he did not know when his sister had abandoned her sense of generosity and understanding. Passing his hands over his eyes, he pressed them to relieve the tension he felt. He inhaled deeply, and dropping his hands to his sides, he strode toward Mr. Hurst's study so that he might write a letter to his steward to direct him to see that Netherfield was opened and cleaned.

Elizabeth listened to the hoofbeats of the horses against the gravel and dirt of the road, and focused on the swaying of the carriage as it rolled over the ruts and dips. They had long ago left the more established roads outside of London, and now traversed the muddy thoroughfares of the country. She smiled softly, happy that their father had elected to continue on after they had suppered at a small inn.

"What do you think, my dears?" he had asked lightly. "Do you wish to have your mother fuss over you this evening?"

Both she and Jane agreed that they were quite prepared to continue on, and after resting briefly, the trio returned to Mr. Bennet's carriage and departed. Elizabeth imagined the scenery beyond her window, the familiar hills shadowed by the deepening twilight and the bare tree branches quaking in the cold winter breeze. She grinned happily, feeling that though her mother would set to forcing from her every detail of her stay in London the moment she stepped into Longbourn's foyer, she was pleased to return. Despite the anxiety they often gave her, she missed her younger sisters' antics and her mother's fretfulness. Reaching into the pocket of her traveling coat, she retrieved the small volume Mr. Darcy had given her. She moved her fingers absently over its cover, and she heard his strong voice bidding her farewell when he departed from Gracechurch Street that morning.

"I wish you all a safe journey," he had declared evenly, bowing to Mr. Bennet and Jane, but allowing his gaze to drift back to Elizabeth.

Mr. Bennet grinned in amusement at the young man's distraction and said easily, "We look forward to seeing you at Longbourn the moment your friend returns to Netherfield."

Darcy blushed heavily at this, tearing his dark eyes from Elizabeth and looking fully to Mr. Bennet. "I will join Bingley there in two weeks," he answered. "I must return to Pemberley for a few days; I have business with my steward, and I wish to see that all is prepared for the spring planting."

"Of course," Mr. Bennet said, feeling that had he no business to detain him, Mr. Darcy would follow them to Hertfordshire tomorrow.

Looking toward his daughter, he noted that Elizabeth was quite subdued, her green eyes turned to the floorboards sadly. He realized quickly she would mourn the loss of Mr. Darcy's company, and wishing to give them a moment to say their farewells, he took Jane's hand gently.

"I just realized that I have not yet finished packing my trunk," he said a little more loudly than he intended. "Jane, I am rather hopeless; will you help me ensure that I have forgotten nothing?"

Jane's brow furrowed slightly in confusion, before her father inclined his head toward Elizabeth. She immediately agreed to the scheme, and curtseying quickly to Mr. Darcy, followed her father from the foyer. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner immediately professed a desire to visit with the children before their lessons began, and after hastily inviting Mr. Darcy to tea the following afternoon, they fled as well. Elizabeth listened to her family's departure in mortification, her color rising with the realization of what they intended by it.

"Your family is very..." Darcy began in wonder as he moved to Elizabeth's side.

"Tactful?" Elizabeth finished lightly.

Darcy smiled broadly and declared, "Hardly."

Elizabeth laughed openly at this, but ceased when she felt him gently clasp her hand in his. She bit her lip, trying in vain to quell the rising lump she felt in her throat. She knew Mr. Darcy sensed her despair, for she immediately felt his hand gently take hold of her elbow.

"I shall miss you," he said softly, taking in her countenance.

"And I you," she answered, her voice hitching slightly with the force of her sadness.

Elizabeth felt a tear gather at the corner of her eye before sliding slowly down her cheek. Darcy immediately noticed it and raised his hand to her face, moving his thumb tenderly over the tear's damp path. Stepping forward slightly, Darcy moved his other hand to Elizabeth's shoulder and pressed it gently before laying his forehead against hers.

"I promise I shall join you in Hertfordshire in a few weeks," he whispered.

She nodded silently, allowing the comforting steadiness of his voice to wash over her. She listened intently as he added, "I love you, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth was jarred suddenly from her thoughts by her sister's voice calling for her attention from her place across the carriage and beside their father. Shaking her head slightly, Elizabeth blushed heavily at her inattention, realizing she must have been quiet for some time.

"Forgive me," she said uneasily. "I am a poor traveling companion."

Jane smiled in understanding, having no doubt as to what, or rather, whom occupied her thoughts. "Fear not, Lizzy," she declared comfortingly. "We were merely wondering at the volume you are holding."

"It looks as if it has been read many times," Mr. Bennet added, studying the small book in his daughter's hands.

Elizabeth's color immediately deepened, and grasping it more tightly, she confessed, "It is a collection of poetry. Mr. Darcy thought I might enjoy it."

"Ah, then it is Mr. Darcy who has been feeding your new admiration for verse," Mr. Bennet said in amusement.

Nodding, Elizabeth smiled slightly. Mr. Bennet grinned in approval and added, "Well, I am quite pleased he appreciates your cleverness, my dear."

Before Elizabeth could answer, Jane spotted the dim outline of Longbourn's gate and the roughly stacked stone that lined the drive. "We are home!" she cried excitedly.

Elizabeth felt the carriage turn slightly, and after a moment, she heard the crunch of gravel beneath the weight of their conveyance. Smiling, she drew her gloves over her hands and secured their small closures at her wrists. Moving her hand along the seat beside her, she found her bonnet and quickly laid it over her curls and tied its ribbons.

"Your mother will be quite happy to see you safe, Lizzy," Mr. Bennet said casually, fixing his hat atop his head. "When we received your uncle's express, she was wholly overcome. I imagine she has occupied Mary's attention every moment since my departure. However, I imagine the news of your engagement erased any worry she felt."

"I am sure you are right," Elizabeth declared. "I am sure she has still occupied my sisters by repeatedly surmising what gowns I shall have once I marry."

Mr. Bennet grinned and agreed she was undoubtedly correct. When the carriage halted, he quickly stepped out, stretching his cramping legs and arms before turning and aiding Elizabeth and Jane in their descents. Elizabeth thanked him quietly, and holding out her hand, invited Jane to take it so that they might enter together. Jane acquiesced immediately, and sliding her arm through her sister's, she led her forward in the foyer, where Hill and Sarah waited for them anxiously.

"Welcome home, sir!" Hill cried merrily to her master, bustling about him while gathering his greatcoat, hat, and gloves. "We did not expect you until tomorrow."

"We could not stay away another night," he admitted.

Elizabeth thanked Sarah quietly as she handed over her coat and bonnet to her. She heard Lydia's loud laughter from the drawing room, followed soon after by her and Catherine's pounding footsteps racing down the hallway.

"They are here, Mama!" Lydia yelled heedlessly. "You were right!"

Catherine immediately moved forward to embrace her eldest sisters, and after greeting them happily, she realized her father watched her intently. Immediately schooling her excitement, and hoping to impress him with her deportment, she greeted him more calmly.

"Hello, Papa," she said, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

Mr. Bennet smiled in approval and declared, "It is good to see you, my dear."

Lydia bounded forward, and once Elizabeth had finished greeting Hill and Sarah, she asked incredulously, "Are you really going to marry Mr. Darcy? When Mama read Papa's letter to us, I thought it a very great joke!"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes heavenward, feeling this was a very fine homecoming. Moving past her down the hallway, Elizabeth said dryly, "It is lovely to be home."

"But he is so very dour," Lydia continued, following her sister. "I cannot imagine he ever says anything amusing or clever."

Elizabeth paused a moment, pressing her hand more firmly against the cool plaster of the wall in an effort to calm herself. She was quite thankful when she heard Jane silence her sister, and breathing deeply, she continued toward the drawing room. Moving through the doorway, she immediately heard her mother cry out merrily and rush toward her.

Embracing Elizabeth tightly, Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, "Whatever was your father thinking having you travel at night? You are just recovered; surely you could catch your death! Has he no care for your health or my nerves?"

Before Elizabeth could answer, she heard her father stride into the room, declaring wryly, "Indeed, madam, I have the greatest care for Lizzy's health. As for your nerves, you know how much I delight in unsettling them."

With that, he turned on his heel and retreated to the comfort of his library. Elizabeth listened to him go and wished desperately that she might join him.

"Oh, Mr. Bennet!" Mrs. Bennet cried in exasperation, waving her hand dismissively and returning her gaze to Elizabeth. "Is it true, Lizzy?"

"Is what true, Mama?" Elizabeth asked innocently, knowing very well what her mother intended by the question.

"Are you engaged to Mr. Darcy?" her mother pressed on, quelling her annoyance over her daughter's secrecy and smiling brightly.

Elizabeth sighed, and closing her eyes, she prepared herself for what was to come. "I am," she said simply.

She was not surprised when her mother exclaimed happily before embracing her again. "I am so happy!" she cried, pressing Elizabeth's shoulders. "You must come sit by the fire; Mr. Darcy would never forgive us if you took cold."

"I am quite well, Mama," Elizabeth said evenly. "I feel like myself again."

Mrs. Bennet was not a woman who was to be gainsaid, and furrowing her brow, she quickly pushed Elizabeth toward the hearth, and saw her seated in the well-worn chair beside it. One she tucked a shawl about Elizabeth's shoulders, she stepped back and clapped happily.

"I was sure your father told the truth!" she exclaimed joyfully. "I have already been to speak with Lady Lucas and Mrs. Long to tell them news. Oh, to think of the gowns you shall have, Lizzy! And the pin money!"

Elizabeth listened patiently as her mother floated about the room, extolling the virtues of Mr. Darcy. She smiled in amusement, feeling that it was only a few months ago that her mother stood in the very same room and assured her that Mr. Darcy was the most disagreeable man she had ever met.

"Charlotte Lucas acted as if she was not very surprised by the news," Mrs. Bennet continued, straightening her lace cap. "But I am certain she was only concealing her envy over your good fortune, for she shall be stuck with that odious Mr. Collins."

"Mama," Jane said carefully. "I do not think it right to speak of Mr. Collins in such a way when they are to marry in a few days time."

"Nonsense," Mrs. Bennet said. "I only speak as I find. Though she will have Longbourn eventually, I am certain Mr. Darcy will see that we are well taken care of; he is so very good."

Turning toward her younger daughters, she added, "And Lizzy's marriage will throw the rest of you into the paths of other rich men. You are very clever, Lizzy!"

"I am not marrying Mr. Darcy for the reasons you imagine, madam," Elizabeth said hotly, rising from her seat.

"I never suggested anything of the sort," Mrs. Bennet declared, looking toward her daughter in wonder at hearing her speak so. "I am merely happy that your will be so well-situated. We must begin discussing your gown and preparing your trousseau immediately. Of course, as you will be Mrs. Darcy, everything must be the very finest from the London shops. I shall write to your aunt before I retire for her recommendations."

Elizabeth sighed heavily and said, "I care little for those things."

Mrs. Bennet looked askance, crying, "You must care for them my dear. What will everyone say if Mr. Darcy's bride is dressed in simple muslin?"

Pressing her hand to her forehead, Elizabeth mumbled, "They will say something about me regardless of what I am wearing."

Heedless of her daughter's comment, Mrs. Bennet continued to plan what they must purchase. Shaking her head, Elizabeth counted her steps toward the door and declared, "I am feeling quite tired after our journey."

"But there is so much to do!" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed.

Realizing her sister's discomfort, Jane quickly rose from her seat beside Catherine and moved to Elizabeth side. "I am undone as well, Mama," she said gently. "And the physician did say Lizzy should not exert herself."

Mrs. Bennet immediately agreed and ushered her eldest daughters out of the room and toward the stairs. "Off you go! I have already sent Hill to stoke the fires in your rooms," she declared, pushing Elizabeth up the first stair.

Swatting away her mother's hand, Elizabeth thanked her quietly and said, "Goodnight, Mama; we are happy to be home."

Hearing the sincerity in her voice, Mrs. Bennet smiled, and nodding slightly, retreated back to the drawing room. Jane looked toward Elizabeth and released her breath slowly in relief.

"She does not mean to act so, dearest," Jane said comfortingly. "She is only excited for you."

Elizabeth sighed and declared, "I know. I do not know how I will bear her enthusiasm though. She will drive me to distraction in a day!"

Jane wound her arm through Elizabeth's and the two slowly ascended the stairs. "Surely she will not be so very bad," Jane said, though her voice revealed that she doubted her own words.

"You heard her," Elizabeth professed. "She will force me to want to flee to Gretna Green before the week is out!"

"Lizzy!" Jane cried in astonishment.

Elizabeth smiled mischievously and said, "Well, perhaps that is extreme."

The two sisters laughed lightly, and arriving at the top of the stairs, they paused when they heard Mary call their names. Elizabeth grinned delightedly as she listened to Mary rush up the stairs after them.

Throwing her arms about Elizabeth's neck, Mary hugged her tightly and declared, "Forgive me; I was in Papa's library reading and did not hear you come. I am so happy you are well, Lizzy. I have been so worried; even after we received father's note that you were awake, I have wanted to be with you in London."

Elizabeth returned her sister's embrace, and stepping back, said seriously, "I am sorry to have worried you all so."

Turning in a circle, she added, "But you see I am quite well now."

Mary studied her sister carefully, noting that her lively complexion was still slightly paler than was its custom. Pressing Elizabeth's hand fondly, she smiled and greeted Jane. Despite her best efforts, Elizabeth yawned lightly, and was not surprised when Jane and Mary immediately rushed her toward her bedroom, and instructed her to ready herself for bed.

"Very well," Elizabeth said, moving into the room and listening as they closed the door behind them, leaving her alone.

Smiling at their care for her, Elizabeth walked slowly about the room, counting her steps and moving her hands over the furniture and trinkets. Having no doubt Sarah laid out her nightgown and dressing gown, Elizabeth slid her hands over the coverlet until she felt the heavy material of them. She quickly changed, and as she sat upon her bed to plait her hair, she heard a light knock on her door.

"May I come in?" Mary asked quietly, glancing around the door and into the room.

"Of course," Elizabeth answered, smiling broadly and inviting her sister to take a seat beside her.

Mary sat down and tucked her feet beneath her, before declaring, "I am very happy for you, Elizabeth. I was quite surprised when our mother told me of your engagement to Mr. Darcy. How ever did you meet with him in London?"

Elizabeth grinned slightly and confessed, "He heard of our being in town and came to Gracechurch Street to call on us."

"He must have intended to propose all along if he sought you out so soon after your arrival," Mary said thoughtfully.

"Perhaps," she answered, idly playing with the belt of her robe. "I was very happy to meet with him again."

Mary nodded and said, "Papa says he is to arrive in Hertfordshire with Mr. Bingley."

Elizabeth's eyes widened worriedly and she asked, "He has not told our mother that, has he?"

"No, indeed," Mary declared, grinning wryly. "I do not believe her nerves could take so much excitement at once. She has yet to recover fully from the news of your impending nuptials."

Shaking her head, Elizabeth said lightly, "I am certain you are right."

Recognizing the fatigue in Elizabeth's voice, Mary rose from her seat and declared, "We shall talk more of this tomorrow."

She leaned forward and kissed Elizabeth fondly on the cheek before turning toward the door. She halted when she felt Elizabeth clasp her hand gently in an effort to stay her progress.

"I have missed you, Mary," Elizabeth said seriously.

Mary smiled gently and declared, "And I have missed you and Jane desperately."

Pressing Mary's hand, Elizabeth released her and listened as her sister crossed her room to the door. "Goodnight, Mary," she called after her.

"Sleep well, Elizabeth," Mary said before moving noiselessly out into the hallway and closing the door behind her.

Elizabeth breathed deeply, and standing, she pulled back the heavy linens to crawl beneath them. She shivered slightly at the coolness of the sheets, but soon she felt the heaviness of sleep descending upon her. Reaching toward the table beside her bed, she moved her fingers until they encountered the small volume of Dryden's poetry. Smiling brightly, she silently thanked Hill for ensuring it was placed there for her. Elizabeth took up the book and brought it to her chest, concentrating on the memory of his voice and the feeling of his touch. Sighing contentedly, she tucked the volume securely beneath her pillow, and bringing the blankets up to her chin, closed her eyes and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

The following day found Mr. Collins moving swiftly up the path toward Rosings Park, his short stature surrounded by the tall, sculpted hedges that lined the stone walk. He removed his hat, and passed his hand quickly over his forehead in an effort to remove the dampness that gathered there. Despite the cold of the late morning, he felt exhausted from his brief walk from Hunsford. He hurried swiftly up the expansive slate steps toward the great manor's entrance, and ringing the bell once, he waited patiently for one of Lady Catherine's grim looking footmen to arrive. Pulling his watch hastily from his waistcoat, he realized that he was already two minutes late. He turned his panicked gaze toward the ornate wrought ironwork on the door, and reaching forward once more, he rang the bell again. He breathed in relief when he saw the door swing wide to admit him.

"Good day to you," he said, hastily tossing his hat and dark greatcoat to the footman who bowed to him. "Her ladyship is expecting me."

Laying Mr. Collins' things aside, the footman silently beckoned the curate to follow him down the hallway to the parlor where his mistress waited. She had asked him repeatedly if the man beside him had arrived, and each time he answered negatively, her annoyance grew. The footman smirked slightly, feeling that he would not wish to be Mr. Collins today.

"Here you are, sir," he declared evenly, opening the door to the parlor for him.

Mr. Collins moved past him, and glancing once toward her ladyship, the footman bowed and departed.

"You are incredibly late, Mr. Collins," Lady Catherine said curtly. "Have I not impressed upon you the importance of arriving promptly when you are expected? Anne and I have begun tea without you."

Mr. Collins apologized profusely, bowing low and adding, "I shall endeavor to be more punctual, your ladyship."

Lady Catherine invited him to the small chair across from the settee where her daughter, Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson sat. "See that you do, Mr. Collins," she declared, raising her sharp chin slightly.

She adjusted her silk skirts, the dark fabric pooling about her feet and onto the finely crafted rug beneath her chair. Straightening, she watched as the footman reentered, carrying a small silver tray.

"What is it, Lawrence?" she asked impatiently.

Bowing before her, he raised the tray to her and declared, "The post has arrived, madam. I know you do not like to be kept waiting for it."

She took up the single missive, and with a quick nod, dismissed the man. Her small brown eyes watched him leave, and turning her gaze to the letter, she read its direction carefully.

"Whoever is this?" she asked, looking over the return direction. "Should I know a Miss Caroline Bingley?"

Mr. Collins glanced toward her curiously and said, "I made the young lady's acquaintance in Hertfordshire; a very genteel and refined young lady."

Lady Catherine remained skeptical, and breaking the seal of the note, unfolded it and set to studying the lines. Her eyes widened slightly, before narrowing angrily. Mr. Collins noticed that her jaw set firmly and her elegant long fingers curled around the parchment tightly.

Rising from her seat abruptly, she cried, "This is not possible!"

Miss de Bourgh and Mrs. Jenkinson started at the violence in her voice, and watching her in wonder, Mr. Collins rose from his seat and carefully moved to her side. "I hope it is not unfortunate news," he said tentatively.

"It is the most disturbing news!" she exclaimed unhappily.

Crossing the room swiftly, she rang the bell, and when Lawrence returned, she asserted, "Have my carriage readied at once. I shall leave within the hour."

"Of course, madam," Lawrence answered, before turning and departing to seek out the stable master.

"Whatever has happened?" Mr. Collins asked, his voice laced with concern. "Is there nothing I can do for your present relief?"

Rearing on her curate, Lady Catherine strode quickly toward him and held out the letter to him. "You, sir, can travel immediately to Hertfordshire and see that your cousin knows her place!" she said forcefully.

Mr. Collins' brow furrowed in confusion, and taking the note from his patroness' hands, he read it immediately. He inhaled sharply when he read the final line, and lowering the parchment, he declared, "I shall do so at once, your ladyship."

"Anne, you shall accompany me to London," Lady Catherine commanded, looking toward her quiet daughter. "See that you are both prepared, Mrs. Jenkinson."

Mrs. Jenkinson, a subdued and gentle individual, rose silently from her seat, and taking Miss de Bourgh's hand, led the astonished girl from the room. Lady Catherine watched them go, and looking over her shoulder, she noticed that Mr. Collins still stood, riveted to his spot.

"Did I not say you should depart immediately?" she asked in annoyance.

The young man startled from his reverie, and bowing slightly, hurried from the room and into the front hall. Within a minute, Lady Catherine heard him running down the stone path outside.

Shaking her head angrily, she declared firmly, "This shall not stand. I shall see to it."

With that, she picked up her skirts and swept from the room, hurrying toward her chambers to give instructions to her maid.

*One Happy Moment by John Dryden

Chapter 42: With the Intention of Persuading

Posted on 2009-02-15

Mr. Bennet clasped his hands behind his back and inhaled the brisk air, filling his lungs and smiling easily as he rounded the muddied path toward Longbourn. The day had been a fair one; unseasonably warm and hinting that spring was not far. His grey eyes traveled over the lawn, taking in the small mounds of snow that dotted it, and he squinted at the golden glow of the sun that reflected off of them. Raising his gaze to the window, he saw Elizabeth standing before it, her hand pressed against glass and her eyes turned upward. Mr. Bennet smiled, having no doubt she envisioned the changing color of the sky while the sun set just over the hill. He sighed lightly, wishing she could have walked with him, for it was days such as this she treasured; days when she could smell the dampness of the ground and feel it give slightly beneath her feet. But for however much he wanted her company, he could not ignore Mr. Byatt's wish for Elizabeth to refrain from being outside more than necessary until the spring. He lowered his eyes, feeling the frustration his daughter must have felt at such a recommendation. Shaking his head, he heard the bells at Longbourn Church ring, echoing down the lane and off of the trees. Pulling his watch from his waistcoat, he recognized the hour for their joining the Lucases for dinner was approaching, and if he did not return indoors, his wife would undoubtedly come searching for him. With that thought, he turned and made his way toward the entrance.

As he expected, his wife accosted him the moment he stepped into the foyer, exclaiming, "Mr. Bennet, you delight in vexing me! We are to leave within the hour, and you are covered in mud!"

Mr. Bennet smirked, and looking down to his boots, saw that she was quite right; they were almost entirely covered. "Ah, yes; the effects of thawing snow. You have my word I will be ready on time," he said calmly.

Unsatisfied by his promise, Mrs. Bennet took his arm, much in the way she had done to her daughters when they were young and refused to attend to their lessons, and dragged him toward the staircase. "This is not to be borne!" she cried. "You shall dress immediately, and I will not hear any argument."

Chuckling, Mr. Bennet assured her that he had no desire to dress yet, and bowing slightly, he moved past her toward his library. Mrs. Bennet crossed her arms and watched him incredulously, before throwing up her hands and mumbling in annoyance. Turning swiftly, she walked back to the parlor. Elizabeth listened to the exchange from her place at the top of the stairs, and shaking her head in amusement, she smirked and descended the stairs blithely. Arriving at the bottom, she smoothed the skirt of her blue gown, feeling the simple embroidered pattern beneath her fingertips. She heard Jane's footsteps approaching, and smiling easily, she turned and greeted her.

"I am looking forward to seeing Charlotte again," Jane said happily.

Elizabeth grinned, hearing the lightness in her voice, and she reflected that since their meeting with Mr. Bingley, Jane had been much easier. "As am I," she answered. "I will miss her heartily though; I still cannot believe she will be leaving us for the company of Lady Catherine and Mr. Collins!"

Jane laughed lightly, before training her features and saying, "That is very unkind, Lizzy."

"Perhaps it is," Elizabeth said, stepping forward and reaching for Jane's hand. "But I cannot imagine their company will be as amusing as ours. What ever will they talk about?"

"Do be serious," Jane reminded her gently, walking toward the parlor.

Frowning slightly, Elizabeth declared, "I do fear for her though; can she truly be happy with him? Can she truly be satisfied in such a situation? How can one bear a marriage without affection?"

"Charlotte is not like you, Lizzy," Jane assured her, pressing her hand to assuage her worry. "Her marriage to Mr. Collins will suit her needs, and that is her concern. I am certain she will be content at Hunsford."

"Content," Elizabeth repeated uneasily. "There is such a difference between that and happiness."

Jane nodded and said, "Perhaps, but it is Charlotte's decision. Let us be glad for her."

Smiling reluctantly, Elizabeth agreed, and on entering the parlor, she resolved to speak more civilly with Mr. Collins when they next met. She could not have known that the subject of her thoughts was at the moment, on his way toward Longbourn.

Georgiana walked swiftly toward the foyer when she heard the bell ring, knowing her aunt and cousin had arrived. After having the house so full over the past days with the Bennets and the Gardiners, she could not deny she now found it incredibly empty. With her brother dining with Mr. Bingley, Georgiana was quite happy to have the company of Lady Matlock and Fitzwilliam for the duration of the evening. She watched as the smartly dressed footman crossed the expansive floor to open the door for them.

"Good evening, aunt," she declared, moving toward them while they removed their cloaks. "It is good to see you, Richard. I am so glad you both have come."

Fitzwilliam smiled broadly, and reaching for her hand, kissed it gallantly and said, "We are only too happy to join you, my dear. My father has not been the best of company since my mother and I shared what a marvelous time we had the other evening, and told him how much we enjoyed the company of the Bennets and Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner."

Lady Matlock laughed lightly and added, "He has been incredibly boorish; walking about in that ridiculous silent manner of his."

Georgiana smiled, feeling that despite his denial of it, her brother was very much like his uncle in his habit of brooding. She invited her guests into the dining room, where a fine meal awaited them.

"So your brother is tending his mourning Miss Elizabeth by visiting his club with Bingley?" Fitzwilliam asked, his eyes dancing merrily.

Looking at him in astonishment, Georgiana asserted, "Hardly! You know that is not his way; he is visiting him so that they may make plans for Mr. Bingley's Netherfield."

Lady Matlock cut into her pork slowly, declaring, "I am happy to hear that young man is taking a keener interest in establishing himself; he is far too accommodating to those sisters of his."

"Bingley is a good man," Fitzwilliam said, his mind returning to Miss Bennet and her interaction with him.

"Well, I am quite pleased to hear that Darcy is helping him," Lady Matlock rejoined.

Georgiana agreed, and turning her attention to her plate, she startled when she heard the bell ring repeatedly. Laying her fork aside, she looked quizzically toward her aunt.

She rose from her seat, declaring, "I do not know who that can be."

Gathering her skirts, she moved tentatively into the hallway and watched in amazement as the heavy front door swung wide to reveal the imposing form of her Aunt Catherine. Georgiana could not quell her sharp intake of breath, and she watched fretfully as her aunt tossed her traveling coat, gloves, and bonnet at a passing maid.

"Where is your master?" she demanded impatiently.

Georgiana stepped back involuntarily, feeling herself entirely unequal to meeting with her aunt. She clutched the doorframe behind her tightly, and she breathed in relief when she heard Fitzwilliam arrive at her side.

"Dear God," he whispered, his light eyes widening with worry, studying his aunt warily.

Glancing over his shoulder, he looked at his mother warningly, but she was already rising from her seat, her pale eyes alert and narrowed at the sound of her sister-in-law's booming voice. She moved cautiously to her niece's side, and taking her hand, squeezed it in an attempt to calm her.

"I asked you a question, girl!" Lady Catherine boomed in annoyance. "Bring Mr. Darcy here to speak with me immediately."

"He is not available this evening, madam," the young woman declared uneasily, smoothing the garments she held and laying them aside.

Before Lady Catherine could inquire further, Georgiana cleared her throat slightly and said, "Lady Catherine; this is a surprise."

The woman immediately reared, hearing her niece's quiet voice. "It is about time I was greeted properly," she said dryly.

Her eyes narrowed, taking in her nephew and Lady Matlock. Straightening slightly, she nodded slightly and added, "Good evening, sister, Fitzwilliam."

Moving in front of his mother and Georgiana, Fitzwilliam said, "You must forgive us, aunt; we were not expecting you. What brings you to London?"

"I have business with Darcy that cannot be delayed," Lady Catherine answered.

"I am afraid he is not here this evening," Georgiana said quietly.

Pushing past her family, Lady Catherine made her way into the dining room, her eyes scanning the room and studying the three place settings. "I shall wait for him," she declared firmly.

Looking back into the hall and noticing a passing footman, she commanded, "You there; see that my daughter is made comfortable in the drawing room."

"Anne is with you?" Fitzwilliam asked incredulously.

"And you left her out of doors in this cold?" Lady Matlock pressed on, her color heightening angrily. "What ever do you mean by this visit, Catherine?"

Stepping close to her sister-in-law, she said, "I have reason to believe Darcy is in danger of making a gross error in judgment."

Fitzwilliam immediately perceived what 'error' his aunt referred to, and clearing his throat, he forced himself to laugh lightly and declare, "In all my years in Darcy's company, I have never seen him err. Surely you are mistaken, aunt."

Pursing her lips in displeasure, she professed, "I assure you, I am perfectly correct; I have my information from a very good source."

Before the company could inquire after this source, the door opened once more and admitted the small form of Anne and her companion, Mrs. Jenkinson. The same maid who assisted Lady Catherine immediately set to helping the young woman off with her heavy cloak and furs.

Georgiana studied her pale cousin, feeling very sorry that she should have been brought all this way. Greeting her quietly, she instructed a footman to see the fire in the drawing room stoked and some tea brought immediately. She watched as the maid led the two women noiselessly down the hallway toward the drawing room. Shaking her head sadly, she looked back to Lady Catherine.

Breathing deeply, she declared, "I do not expect my brother to return until very late. Please, aunt, you may discuss whatever you wish with me."

Lady Catherine looked at her niece skeptically, amazed by the steadiness and resolve with which she spoke. Moving into the dining room, she took a seat at the table and declared, "Very well; I shall apprise you of what I have heard."

Lady Matlock smiled encouragingly at Georgiana, and placing a gentle hand on her back, urged her to resume her seat. Lowering herself onto her own, she said, "You are not usually one who pays any heed to idle gossip. I am surprised you would begin to do so now."

"I pay attention to it when I hear my family is in danger!" Lady Catherine cried.

Fitzwilliam rolled his shoulders to relieve the tension he felt, and pulling out his chair, he sat upon it and adjusted the tails of his coat. "I did not know we were in any danger," he declared wryly. "Are we threatened by the French?"

"It is obvious that I do not take such matters as lightly as you do," Lady Catherine declared flatly. "It is not the French; I feel Darcy has formed an acquaintance with a young woman that my curate assures me is entirely unsuited for his friendship. I have come with the intention of persuading him against such an acquaintance."

Lady Matlock's pale eyes narrowed dangerously and she asked, "Of whom do you speak?"

"Elizabeth Bennet," Lady Catherine answered, picking up the cover of one of the silver trays before her and assessing its contents. "She is a nobody from the country, and after the suggestion of Mr. Collins, I invited her to be Anne's companion. Mr. Collins tells me she turned down the offer immediately; entirely ungrateful was she at my kindness."

Dropping the cover back into place, she added harshly, "And she is blind. I do not know what possessed her to say no, for she is undoubtedly a burden to her family."

"Do not speak of her so!" Georgiana exclaimed, rising from her seat and gripping the edge of the table.

Lady Catherine turned her wide eyes to her niece, her mouth agape in wonder at hearing her speak with such conviction. Scowling, she said, "I can certainly see your brother has not taught you as well as I thought. You would speak to me in such a way?"

Georgiana paled at her aunt's reproach, and her shoulders fell slightly. She felt the anger she had experienced a moment ago melt away, replaced with fear and insecurity. Slowly, she lowered herself back into her seat. She felt Lady Matlock's eyes on her, and she was quite thankful when she spoke in defense of her.

"You cannot speak in this way," Lady Matlock said, her voice steady and dark. "Whatever your argument with Darcy, you have no reason to speak to Georgiana in such a manner."

"I am merely stating a truth," her sister answered curtly. "From what I have been told, our nephew and niece have been keeping company with this woman. While I have no desire to speak ill of someone who must suffer because of her infirmity, I cannot understand what business they have with her!"

Turning to Georgiana, she asked, "What benefit can her friendship be to you? Mr. Collins has told me that this Eliza Bennet is impertinent, and it certainly seems that has influenced you."

Georgiana's jaw set firmly, her mind racing with angry epitaphs, but her voice unwilling to speak them. She listened in amazement as Lady Matlock declared, "This is ridiculous, Catherine; you come all this way based on something your clergyman told you? What of it if Miss Elizabeth refused your offer of a position? To a gentlewoman, such an offer is an insult."

"That woman is not a gentlewoman," Lady Catherine observed. "Mr. Collins tells me she barely ventures out of doors; she has little knowledge of the world and no practice interacting with polite society."

Fitzwilliam inhaled, feeling his annoyance growing. Taking up his glass, he sipped his wine before stating, "I have met Miss Elizabeth, and find her to be everything that is genteel and good."

"You have met her?" she asked, astonished when her nephew nodded.

"I have as well," Lady Matlock added, straightening in her seat and leveling her startling gaze on her. "I found her delightful."

Lady Catherine rose from her seat, crying, "This is ridiculous; tell me where Darcy is so that I may speak with him! You are all out of your senses. I shall endeavor to persuade him that this is all foolishness."

"I do not believe my brother will be swayed from his opinion that Miss Elizabeth is a worthy woman to know," Georgiana said suddenly, her mouth tightening.

"Your brother is a far more rational being than you are, Georgiana," Lady Catherine declared firmly. "He will realize how worthless associating with this girl is."

Rising from her seat, Georgiana swallowed harshly and turned her light brown eyes on her ladyship. Her gaze was hard and determined, and at that moment, she felt a fierce protection of her brother and Elizabeth.

"No, madam," she said slowly. "You are quite mistaken; Miss Elizabeth's company is extremely valuable both to myself and my brother."

Breathing deeply, she added, "I look forward to the day she will become my sister."

Georgiana heard nothing but the crackling of wood in the hearth, and looking toward her aunt, she noticed that Lady Catherine had become pale. She immediately regretted her candor, feeling perhaps that it was not her place to reveal such news. Hoping that her brother would forgive her, she realized she could do naught but face her aunt's displeasure.

"What did you say?" Lady Catherine stammered, her fingers involuntarily gripping the sides of her chair.

Glancing toward Lady Matlock, Georgiana noted that she nodded slightly in encouragement. Breathing deeply, she raised her chin and said, "I will welcome her as my sister."

Lady Catherine rose from her seat unsteadily, her complexion heightening with each word. She breathed in sharply and declared, "Such an alliance would ruin you both; your brother is mad. What of his promise to Anne? Their marriage has been planned since they were children!"

Before Georgiana could answer, Lady Matlock stood quickly and asserted, "I never heard your sister speak of such a wish, and if she did, I cannot imagine she would ever force him to marry where he does not love."

"Love?" Lady Catherine asked disbelievingly. "You consider that sufficient explanation for throwing over all sense of honor and the future of his sister? No one will come into this house if that woman is its mistress."

Attempting to calm the atmosphere of the room, Fitzwilliam declared, "Darcy seems very content with Miss Elizabeth, and I believe her lively spirit is good for Georgiana. She is a very accomplished young woman."

"What care I for her accomplishments?" Lady Catherine cried, moving toward the door. "Who are her uncles? Who are her aunts? Do not think me ignorant of their concerns!"

Rearing on Georgiana, she added, "The shades of Pemberley will be polluted by your brother's foolishness, and you will suffer for it."

Lady Matlock stepped swiftly to her niece's side and declared, "I will not allow you to speak so in front of her, Catherine. Return home with Fitzwilliam and myself, and we can speak in a rational manner."

"I will not be swayed!" Lady Catherine exclaimed. "This alliance will be a disgrace. Does my brother support this madness?"

Lady Matlock and Fitzwilliam immediately fell silent, glancing warily at each other. Lady Catherine did not miss the look of trepidation that passed between them, and her eyes widened in understanding.

"He does not," she said in relief. "At least someone in this family has some sense."

Sweeping into the hallway, her dark skirts swishing about her feet with every angry step, she called for her daughter. "I shall speak with him," she declared, distractedly securing the clasp of her cloak at her throat.

Georgiana watched Anne enter the foyer quietly, her small face pale, and her dark eyes doleful. "Please, Lady Catherine," she pleaded. "Perhaps, Anne should remain here. It is growing colder and I would not wish to see her become chilled."

Lady Catherine studied her daughter for a moment, before declaring, "She shall be fine, and I would not have her remain in this house. Inform Darcy of my coming; I will expect to speak with him tomorrow."

With that, she moved out into the twilight and descended the stairs to her lavish conveyance. Anne quietly thanked her cousin for her hospitality, and wishing them all a good evening, she followed Mrs. Jenkinson outside.

Lady Matlock took Georgiana's hand gently and said, "We should return home, my dear. Fear not; I will not allow your uncle to support her in this. Despite his disapproval of Miss Elizabeth, I know he would never wish your brother to be unhappy."

Fitzwilliam laid his hand on Georgiana's shoulder, before stepping around them to see that their carriage was prepared.

"Thank you," Georgiana whispered, looking toward her aunt. "Do you think Fitzwilliam will be very angry with me for telling Lady Catherine of his engagement? I just could not allow her to speak of Miss Elizabeth or him in that horrible way."

"You did just as you ought," Lady Matlock said, passing a soothing hand over Georgiana's hair.

Gathering her niece in her arms, she embraced her tightly and added, "All will be well; you have my word."

Elizabeth laughed, turning toward Sir William Lucas fully and declaring, "If you truly wish to challenge me, Sir William, I have little objection."

Sir William beamed, and dropping into the seat beside Elizabeth on the settee, he said, "I am quite determined. You have robbed me of ten pounds now; I must make it back."

Smiling, her eyes alight with mischief, Elizabeth answered, "Then I accept, but I must warn you I will not lose easily."

"I do not expect you to," he said, standing and taking Elizabeth's hand.

Despite Mrs. Bennet's objections to it, the pair walked toward the small table by the window where the chess board awaited, and Charlotte declared, "I feel I must warn you that my father has been practicing quite diligently, Elizabeth."

"Then I anticipate the challenge even more," her friend answered, smoothing her skirts and taking her seat across from Sir William.

Charlotte smiled, studying her friend and taking in her happy countenance. Elizabeth had returned from London quite changed; the shadow of sadness that had filled her eyes had disappeared. When her friends had departed, Charlotte had hoped they would find some distraction from their disappointment. She looked toward Jane, who sat beside Maria and Mary laughing quietly, and noted that she, too, appeared merrier. Charlotte was glad for her friends, feeling that Elizabeth would be truly happy and that Mr. Bingley's impending return to Hertfordshire surely signaled that Jane would soon be engaged as well. Sighing, she thought on her own nuptials, wondering what she would feel on Saturday, and what her life would be as Mrs. Collins. She startled from her thoughts when she heard Lydia snicker loudly.

"Oh, Lord," she laughed, gazing out the window, her nosed pressed against it unflatteringly. "You will not guess who has come!"

Catherine joined her younger sister, and covering her mouth in surprise, she asked, "Were you expecting your intended, Charlotte?"

Her brows knit together and Charlotte answered, "We are not expecting him until Friday afternoon."

Lady Lucas rose from her seat, and crossing the room, looked over Lydia and Catherine's heads to peer out into the growing darkness. Sure enough, the glow of the torches on the drive revealed a disheveled Mr. Collins lowering himself inelegantly from a small carriage.

"It is Mr. Collins," she affirmed, glancing toward her husband.

Sir William moved his rook, and standing from his seat, strode out of the parlor and into the front hall. He watched in wonder as the maid opened the door to admit Mr. Collins.

"My dear Mr. Collins!" he cried in amusement. "We were not expecting you. Have you traveled all the way from Hunsford?"

Shrugging himself from his dusty greatcoat, Mr. Collins smoothed his hair and declared, "I have indeed, sir, at the request of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. I understand that my cousins are here this evening."

"They are," Sir William answered, raising his hand and inviting Mr. Collins into the parlor. "We are enjoying a very fine evening together. We have already dined, but shall I have a plate prepared for you?"

"Not at all," Mr. Collins said vehemently. "I have something of great import to speak with my cousin, Elizabeth about, and I do not feel I will be able to eat after so grave a discussion."

Sir William paused just inside the door of the parlor, and recalling Elizabeth's recent illness, he asked, "Are you certain this cannot wait, Mr. Collins?"

Looking at Sir William incredulously, he declared, "It certainly cannot; I have been charged by her ladyship to speak with her, and I would not dare ignore her request."

Though Sir William could not imagine what was of such import as to interrupt an evening of entertainment, he nodded and reluctantly led Mr. Collins into the room. Mr. Bennet rose from his seat at the sight of his cousin, and stepping forward, he greeted him politely.

"Good evening," the young curate said, bowing awkwardly to the company.

Mrs. Bennet watched skeptically as he crossed the room to kiss Charlotte's hand lightly, before turning to address them all once more. "I know my arrival is entirely unexpected, but I hope you forgive me, for it was quite necessary I come immediately. Lady Catherine asked me as a specific favor to her," he declared, leveling his gaze on Elizabeth. "I would not deny her."

Elizabeth felt everyone's gaze on her, and blushing slightly, she asked, "Why did she have you travel so far, sir?"

Ignoring his cousin's question, he inquired, "May I speak with you, Cousin Elizabeth? It is a matter of some importance."

Mr. Bennet's brow rose slightly, and rising from his seat, he declared, "You may speak with us, Mr. Collins."

Looking toward Sir William, he asked, "Might we use your study?"

Nodding mutely, Sir William watched Mr. Bennet guide Elizabeth's arm through his own and move past Mr. Collins into the hallway. Clearing his throat nervously, Mr. Collins stumbled after them.

"Well, that was odd," Lydia laughed.

While the remainder of the company wondered over so curious a visit, Mr. Bennet opened the door to Sir William's study, and after seeing Elizabeth to the chair nearest the fire, he sat across from her, leaving Mr. Collins to pace about the room. He studied Elizabeth's countenance, noticing that her jaw was set firmly. His brow furrowed, and he wondered if Elizabeth knew the reason for their cousin's appearance.

Mr. Collins watched the pair, and once he was certain they listened, he declared, "You are undoubtedly wondering at my coming to Hertfordshire before my expected arrival, and though I am anticipating my marriage to my dear Charlotte, I confess that has nothing to do with my being here. I have been asked by my honorable patroness to speak with you, Cousin Elizabeth."

Elizabeth straightened, and having no doubt that her ladyship had received Miss Bingley's missive, she said evenly, "I cannot imagine what about."

"Lady Catherine has been made aware of your acquaintance with Mr. Darcy," Mr. Collins professed, raising his chin. "And she has bid me express her displeasure at it."

"I fail to understand you, Mr. Collins," Elizabeth said calmly. "What reason does her ladyship have for disapproving of my knowing Mr. Darcy?"

Sighing impatiently, Mr. Collins moved toward the chimneypiece and leaned his arm against the mantle. "It is not knowing him that upsets her, but your friendship with him and Miss Darcy," he admitted. "I must ask that you desist being in their company."

Mr. Bennet opened his mouth, prepared to demand that Mr. Collins leave immediately, but halted when he heard Elizabeth declare, "I will not."

"But Lady Catherine demands it," Mr. Collins said, unable to believe Elizabeth would so candidly refuse that woman's request. "She undoubtedly agrees with Miss Bingley's estimation that you are an unfit example for Miss Darcy."

Elizabeth exhaled angrily as Mr. Bennet asked, "Miss Bingley? What does she have to do with this?"

"It was Miss Bingley who expressed a concern for Cousin Elizabeth's… growing closeness with the Darcys," Mr. Collins answered. "And I find I must agree with her and Lady Catherine; what will Mr. Darcy's acquaintances say when they hear of your spending so much time with him and his sister in London? Despite your inexperience, you must know what people will think."

"And what will they think, Mr. Collins?" Elizabeth inquired, willing her voice steady though she felt her annoyance growing.

Turning back toward his cousin, he answered, "I am afraid they may believe you seek to connect yourself with him, and if that is the case, then I must warn you no one will look on the match with a friendly eye."

Elizabeth turned her green eyes toward his voice, and narrowing them slightly, she confessed, "Of that I am very aware, sir, but I have always cared very little for the opinion of society."

"Are you admitting that is what you wish?" Mr. Collins asked incredulously. "To attach yourself to him?"

Smiling slightly, Elizabeth recalled Mr. Darcy's voice assuring her of his affection, and she declared, "That is all I wish."

Mr. Collins started, her words causing him to stumble slightly. He began to move toward Elizabeth, but was prevented by Mr. Bennet, who had risen from his seat and stepped in front of him.

"I think it only right to inform you of something, Mr. Collins," he began, his grey eyes dancing proudly at his daughter's composure. "Elizabeth has done Mr. Darcy the honor of accepting him."

Elizabeth smiled brightly, listening as he added, "Will you not congratulate her?"

Mr. Collins stepped back, assessing the father and daughter, and without a word, he turned and walked out of the room. Mr. Bennet watched him go and said wryly, "Apparently not."

Elizabeth listened to Mr. Collins' frantic footsteps fade down the hallway, and breathing deeply, she urged her racing heart to calm. She knew Mr. Collins' visit was only the beginning, and closing her eyes, she wondered if Lady Catherine was attempting at that very moment to change her nephew's mind. Suddenly she felt her father lay a gentle hand on her shoulder, and opening her eyes, she raised her own hand and pressed his fondly.

"I am well, Papa," she said, hoping to reassure him.

"I suppose we cannot expect Mr. Collins to accept an invitation to remain at Longbourn while he is in the country," Mr. Bennet declared, moving his fingers to clasp his daughter's smaller ones.

Grinning, Elizabeth laughed lightly and agreed. Rising from her seat, she moved her hand to her father's arm and laid her head against his shoulder. She felt him kiss her hair, and together, the two walked into the hallway. Elizabeth immediately heard Mr. Collins frantically speaking with Charlotte in the foyer, and blushing, she regretted causing any discomfort for her friend. Her father guided her toward the drawing room, but she knew Charlotte's eyes were on her, watching her apologetically. She turned her face toward where she knew she would be and nodded in understanding. Breathing deeply, she listened as her father made his regrets to Sir William and Lady Lucas, informing them that he had developed a dreadful headache.

"But, Mr. Bennet, it is still quite early," his wife lamented as he ushered his other daughters into the hallway where they were met by the maid who helped them on with their cloaks.

"My apologies, my dear," he said. "I fear I am quite done in."

Elizabeth raised her bonnet over her hair, tying its ribbons before securing her gloves over her hands. She heard Charlotte's light step approach her, and forcing herself to smile, she turned toward the sound.

"I am so sorry, Elizabeth," she whispered, taking her friend's hand and clasping it.

"It is nothing, dearest," Elizabeth said, returning Charlotte's hold. "Please do not fret; you are supposed to enjoy these next days."

Charlotte shook her head, saying, "He should never have spoken to you about such a thing; it was very wrong of him."

"Do not blame him," she answered. "I expected no less than Lady Catherine's disapproval. I am sure she is in London as we speak, voicing her thoughts about me."

Smiling gently, Charlotte asserted, "If she knew you, Elizabeth, she would certainly not feel so."

Elizabeth sighed and declared, "I am resigned to the fact that few people will approve of us, but I have also determined that I do not care for their opinions."

As her sisters and parents bid the Lucases a good evening, Elizabeth stepped closer to Charlotte and whispered, "Do you approve? Do you think me foolish for wishing for such happiness?"

Charlotte studied her friend, noting Elizabeth's eyes were wide, waiting for her answer nervously. Embracing her tightly, she said, "Of course I approve; I cannot imagine anyone more worthy of such a man. Allow yourself to be happy, Lizzy, for I am certain Mr. Darcy is."

Elizabeth pressed Charlotte's shoulders, feeling a silent tear roll down her cheek, or perhaps Charlotte's, for she could not tell who had shed it. Stepping back, she smiled once more, and when Jane arrived at her side, she wished Charlotte a good night. Charlotte watched Elizabeth take her father's hand and step into the waiting carriage. Mr. Bennet turned, and tipping his hat to her, he raised himself into his own seat. With her father by her side, waving excitedly to his guests, Charlotte lifted her own hand to bid them farewell. She heard her intended call her name impatiently, and closing her eyes, she knew he disapproved of her acting so toward Elizabeth. Turning back to the entrance, she walked toward him, and when he attempted to reprimand her, she moved purposefully past him and followed her mother into the parlor.

Darcy reined in his horse and swung himself down from the saddle, handing the reins to the groom. He ascended the stairs and greeted the footman who opened the door for him.

"I hope you had a pleasant evening, sir," the footman said, helping his master from his greatcoat.

"I did, Williams, thank you," Darcy answered, taking his hat from his head and handing it to him. "Has my sister retired?"

"No, sir," he declared. "She is in the drawing room."

As he pulled his gloves from his hands, Darcy smiled and professed, "I am sure she had an enjoyable evening with Lady Matlock and Colonel Fitzwilliam."

Frowning slightly, Williams confessed, "I am afraid they departed early."

"Has something happened?" Darcy asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

Taking his master's gloves, Williams breathed deeply and declared, "They left soon after Lady Catherine."

Darcy froze, his shoulders turning rigid and his jaw setting firmly. "Lady Catherine was here?" he breathed out, his fists curling involuntarily.

Williams had barely nodded when Darcy moved past him toward the drawing room, his long strides carrying him swiftly down the hallway. He paused at the doorframe and immediately saw Georgiana's form by the window, watching the darkness outside.

Stepping forward, he called, "Georgiana."

She whirled around at the sound of his voice, and running toward him, threw herself into his embrace. "Tell me everything," he said urgently, wrapping his arms around her, and stroking her hair hoping to soothe her.

Georgiana nodded, and taking her brother's hand, she led him to the settee. "Lady Catherine came, wishing to speak with you," she declared, her voice quavering slightly. "She heard of our friendship with Miss Elizabeth, and I am afraid she did not approve."

Darcy released the breath he had been holding, and shaking his head, he listened as she continued, "I am afraid I informed her of your engagement; I could not let her speak of Miss Elizabeth as she was."

"Where is she now?" he asked, taking hold of Georgiana's hand.

"She went to speak with our uncle," she answered. "Lady Matlock and Richard followed after her so they might appeal to her."

Nodding distractedly, Darcy's dark eyes turned toward the fire as he silently cursed Miss Bingley's presumptuous behavior. He passed a frustrated hand through his hair, and standing, walked unsteadily toward the pianoforte. He seated himself on the bench, recalling Elizabeth's voice filling the room. Turning slightly, he studied the smooth ivory keys and laid his fingers against them.

"Lady Catherine said she expects to speak with you tomorrow," Georgiana declared, watching her brother's movements.

Shaking his head, Darcy said, "No; I will speak with her tonight."

"Are you certain?" she asked, recalling the anger in her aunt's eyes.

"I am afraid that will not be possible," Fitzwilliam called, striding into the room and removing his gloves.

"Richard," Georgiana said, her eyes wide with surprise. "Have you seen our aunt? What did she say to your father?"

Fitzwilliam paused before the siblings, taking in Darcy's serious mien and the hardened line of his mouth. Sighing heavily, he declared, "She is no longer in London."

"She has returned to Rosings?" Georgiana asked hopefully.

Darcy detected Fitzwilliam's reluctance to answer, and felt his chest tighten in fear. "Where has she gone, Richard?" he inquired, his voice shaking with anxiety.

Turning his light gaze to Darcy, Fitzwilliam said, "Hertfordshire."