Beginning, Previous Section, Section III

Chapter 16

Elizabeth was obliged to the task of informing her father of her engagement, and subsequently a letter of introduction to go along with the letter her betrothed would send, formally requesting Mr. Bennet's consent, as he was yet unable to travel. Mr. Bennet was much surprised by this news, as he had only heard of Colonel Fitzwilliam as the invalid behind his daughter's taking up residence at Rosings Park. Though he would express to his daughter some concern over the brevity of their acquaintance, Richard Fitzwilliam acquitted himself well enough on paper to convince Mr. Bennet that the two were indeed well matched, and as the son of an Earl with his family's approval, Mr. Bennet hardly felt in a position to deny the man anything.

Of greater comfort to Mr. Bennet was his required presence to approve the settlement papers. Any fears he may have harbored regarding his daughter's happiness he knew would be assuaged once he had confirmed with his own eyes the felicity she claimed in her letters. So it was that not two days after the Earl's courier had been dispatched to Kent, Mr. Bennet surprised them all by arriving to answer his letters in person.

"A Mr. Bennet to see you, ma'am," announced Mrs. Hitchens.

Nothing could compare to the delight which effused Miss Elizabeth's countenance at this – except perhaps the expression of her father.

"Papa! You have come," she cried happily as Mr. Bennet came to press her hand.

"Mrs. Collins, I see my Lizzy is no worse for being left to your care," Mr. Bennet smiled as he greeted their hostess. "Though I understand there is a young gentleman residing nearby who would take her away from me."

"You are most welcome to Hunsford, sir," Charlotte replied, well used to Mr. Bennet's teasing. "I hope you will stay with us for some time."

"If your husband does not object to housing me, I shall hope to impose on you for a few days at least. Shall he have much to say to me about my daughter's good fortune, do you think?"

"We have not spoken to Mr. Collins on the subject, Papa," Elizabeth interrupted, "We did not intend to until we had heard from you and made some arrangements for the announcement."

"Not eager for your mother to get involved, eh Lizzy?" Mr. Bennet replied shrewdly.

"I confess my tolerance for lace is not equal to it."

"Very well, my child. Now about this young gentleman of yours, when shall I meet the man who means to steal you away from Longbourn forever?"

"I am expected at Rosings after luncheon, if you should like to accompany me."

"Yes, I believe I shall."

"Then I shall write to Lady Matlock directly."

T hough Mr. Collins would be quite put out at not having been able to make the introduction himself, it must be said that introductions between Mr. Bennet and those in residence at Rosings Park went tolerably well. Lady Catherine may have been all condescension as she greeted the gentleman whose estate was entailed upon her parson, but any efforts she would have made to expound upon the subject were cut short by the Earl's firm greeting. He requested that if his sister had no objections to their use of the room, the gentlemen would be conducting a brief matter of business in the study before joining the rest of the party in the gardens. If by some of Lady Catherine's comments it was clear that she believed the matter of business to be arrangements for Lady Matlock's taking Miss Elizabeth Bennet on as a companion, it was decided just as well that she not be disabused of this notion in favor of a more accurate one.

The Earl of Matlock and Mr. Bennet were each pleased to find the other a sensible gentleman with reasonable expectations for the terms of the marriage contract, thus their acquaintance was off to a very smooth start. During the finer points of discussing the settlement, only one point of concern was to be found, and it was one on which Lord Matlock and Mr. Bennet were in complete agreement.

There had been nothing of direct impropriety about Miss Elizabeth's extending Christian charity to an injured man – particularly as to Lady Catherine's view this had been a role of genteel servitude akin to Mrs. Jenkinson's – however the announcement of an engagement between the pair bore the potential to cast an unfortunate shade on Miss Elizabeth's conduct. The servants in Lady Catherine's household were not known for their discretion, and their suppositions would run rife. The mistress of the house would be of little use to control the gossips amongst her staff, as by her objections to the match, Lady Catherine was far more likely to denounce Miss Bennet strongly and vocally. Whether by information from the servants or Lady Catherine herself, society would have little reason to treat kindly an unknown young lady of small fortune, nor would the Fitzwilliams wish for their difference of opinion with Lady Catherine to be aired publicly.

It was decided best that the marriage take place sooner rather than later, and most likely in Kent, as Colonel Fitzwilliam was still advised not to travel beyond necessity. Mr. Bennet was not of a mind to protest, having no desire to witness the bridal cacophony of Mrs. Bennet that would inevitably result should the ceremony be performed in Hertfordshire.

There was also the matter of the Colonel's commission to consider. From the beginning of his recovery, the Fitzwilliams had hinted at his giving it up, and he had written to his commanding officers to detail his current opportunities in the military, including possible candidates to purchase his commission. There had been some inheritance money bequeathed to Richard Fitzwilliam by elder relatives, which, in combination with Mr. Bennet's portion of the settlement, would provide a meager yet livable income. In reviewing the figures, Mr. Bennet was not overly concerned that his Lizzy would manage, as they were quite livable by country standards. He was, however, a bit skeptical as to what the son of an earl would know of such a standard of living. Lord Matlock assured Mr. Bennet that as a Fitzwilliam, his younger son would find himself settled quite affluently upon his marriage. He made it clear that the Fitzwilliam coffers were comprised of several family estates and holdings, and once confirmation had been made with his solicitor as to which were for the Earl to bequeath and which were the rightful inheritance of the Viscount, he would see to it that the young couple was established quite respectably.

Meanwhile, the rest of the visitors at Rosings had excused themselves from Lady Catherine shortly after the Earl and Mr. Bennet, that the early afternoon might be spent in the gardens for tea. Lady Matlock had captured Elizabeth's attention as they left the drawing room, an occurrence which Colonel Fitzwilliam was wise enough to wait until they were out of Lady Catherine's realm of attention to correct. Once they had safely quit the house, he approached Miss Elizabeth and offered his arm.

"Now that we have made our escape, I had thought we might take a bit of a circuitous route through the gardens before joining the others," he said smilingly.

"Certainly, sir," Elizabeth obliged. "Though do you not think it might be better for us to join our fathers? I realize it is not entirely proper for a young lady to be present during such negotiations, but I cannot be easy knowing that my future is a primary subject of conversation and I am not present to contribute."

"Aye, I cannot disagree with that sentiment, though you need not be overly concerned. From what you have said, your father is a man of reason who holds you in the utmost affection, and my father has kept me abreast of those plans he is making in provision for his poor second son entering into matrimony. The only point of contention comes to my own plans."

The first was of some little comfort to Elizabeth, though she would rather know of the arrangements herself than trust that the Colonel approved of his father's plans. His last statement she met with wary anticipation as he explained.

"Though I believe myself sufficiently recovered to return to active military duty, I know how strongly my parents do not wish it. I believe my injury will prove to be sufficient inducement for my general to provide a post working with the many training encampments on British soil."

"Would that not require much travel?" Elizabeth asked with some concern.

"Indeed it would, from time to time; but I am not wont to be an idle fellow, and I am not of a mind to give up my career just yet. It is particularly influential to me that the added income could substantially raise the standard of living we shall be able to afford without dependence upon the family's holdings."

Colonel Fitzwilliam glanced at his fiancée, expecting her to be rather glad of this news, but instead found that she looked troubled.

"Do not be anxious," he added comfortingly. "The work would only require a month here and there throughout the year, half of which may very well be in London. You would most always be welcome to travel with me. Would you not enjoy the opportunity to see more of the country?"

Elizabeth gave a soft smile at this. "Yes, I admit I would."

"Very good then," the Colonel smiled in return, "let us join the others for tea."

Miss Elizabeth could not have been more pleased with how the afternoon passed, and not only for the pleasure of enjoying her father's company once again. Here was one family member whom she could proudly introduce amongst the Fitzwilliams' acquaintance. Mr. Bennet conducted himself with gentility and wit; it could not be said that he did not tease, but it was done in good taste and affection such that he complimented the party very nicely. The boon of her father's presence assured Elizabeth that a Bennet could make a respectable addition to this family circle, and that she could take her place in it with confidence.

At length the time did arrive for the Bennets to announce their departure, assuring their hosts that they were in no need of escort to return them to the parsonage. As they ambled through the garden paths that led out to the lane, Mr. Bennet was quick to voice his approval of Elizabeth's choice of husband. In fact, he could not imagine a finer family in all of England for her to be connected to by marriage. He jokingly added that by his observations this afternoon, and its meager comparisons to Matlock and Pemberley, perhaps the family libraries had been the greatest inducement to the match.

This put Miss Elizabeth to mind of the book from Longbourn's library that she had not found among her belongings, and assumed had been left in the sickroom. She then told her father of her intention to retrieve it before leaving Rosings. Mr. Bennet obligingly suggested that he was more than capable of making the half mile journey to the parsonage on his own, perhaps taking a few detours along the way to view the great pinnacles of nature which Mr. Collins had described so verbosely in the fall.

Miss Elizabeth knew that with Dr. Grant's recent departure, the Colonel had been released to a room closer to the rest of his family. Therefore she saw no harm in retrieving her book unescorted, and gaining entry from the housekeeper, she took the familiar hallways to the appropriate suite of rooms.

Assuming the bustle emanating from the room to be nothing more than servants cleaning out the old sick chamber, Miss Elizabeth did not hesitate to enter, and was very surprised to find Mr. Darcy himself directing two of the footmen. He had not yet noticed her presence, but she could not help looking on as he directed the men to collect her chair – the very one in which she had read daily once Lady Catherine's oppressive choice had been moved aside – and return it to his suite of rooms.

A moment later he turned toward the door, a blush spreading across the cheeks of both as Mr. Darcy noticed her presence, hers for discovering that he had been the one to arrange for her comfort, and his for being caught at it.

Neither spoke for a moment – nor did their blushes abate, a condition which Mr. Darcy found altogether intolerable. He cleared his throat and stated, "I took the liberty of collecting the chair, Miss Elizabeth, seeing as you will no longer have need of it."

Elizabeth straightened at the formality of his speech, and replied in kind. "I apologize for having kept something Lady Catherine intended for your own comfort, I would not have supposed to keep it if I had known."

Mr. Darcy saw that his cold manner had put her ill at ease, and softened as he replied, "Not to worry, Miss Elizabeth, it is only one half of a matched pair, and I have not minded taking in the perspective from the other for a while."

Noting that his footmen had long since departed, Mr. Darcy offered a quick bow and excused himself, leaving Elizabeth to wonder if he had meant to imply more than the face value of his words would suggest. She retrieved her book absentmindedly; once again unsure of where the influence of her own feelings ended and the truth of Mr. Darcy's began.

It seemed a day destined for Elizabeth to unintentionally encounter gentlemen of the Fitzwilliam line, as she found the Colonel coming out into the foyer just as she descended the last steps of the staircase.

"Miss Elizabeth, I thought you had departed along with your father," he greeted with a smile, not at all affronted by the surprise.

"Yes," Miss Elizabeth replied with a hint of embarrassment, "I had intended as much, but recalled that I had left this book from his library above stairs, and thought he would be eager to be reunited with it."

"Might I walk you back to the parsonage, then?"

"I would not ask too much of you when I was perfectly prepared to walk myself."

"Do not concern yourself," he replied, taking her arm and leading her out of the house, "for all the times Darcy and I raced to the parsonage as young boys, I think I can manage the walk."

"You visited the former occupant often, then?" Miss Elizabeth turned to look at the Colonel as she inquired, squinting a bit as they stepped out into the afternoon sun.

"Yes, there was a boy there not more than a year Darcy's junior, and while my brother James would not be troubled to play with a boy even younger than us two scraps, Darcy and I enjoyed his company well enough. He knew all the best places to conduct our boyhood mischief."

Elizabeth smiled at the picture he presented. "It sounds as though the group of you were thick as thieves."

"In many ways we were, though it did not last more than a few summers. I believe that my uncle Lewis, before he passed, found something of a naval position for him."

Elizabeth could not help thinking of the growing similarities to another gentleman of her acquaintance, and did not hesitate to mention him. "I must say I am surprised that for all of the boyhood tales that have been shared of late, no one has mentioned Mr. Wickham. I understand he and Mr. Darcy had been close friends when they were boys, and that the elder Mr. Darcy had intended similar provisions."

Colonel Fitzwilliam all but snarled at the mention of that man's name. In a manner quite similar to his staid and stoic cousin, he took a moment to compose himself before replying in a steely tone, "Forgive me, but I would just as soon forget that we ever accepted the reprobate's company, regardless of whether or not he was allowed to take part in our boyhood adventures at Pemberley."

Impressed by the vehemence of the Colonel's words, Elizabeth replied cautiously, "Your cousin seems to share your opinion of the gentleman."

At the word 'gentleman', Colonel Fitzwilliam looked a bit ill, and not at all due his recent injury. "I dare say he does!" the Colonel spat before he could school himself to continue with less intensity, "Though by your manner of expression, I imagine Darcy has not shared the reasoning behind his resentment."

"He has not," Elizabeth answered plainly.

"Then for your own protection, please allow me to provide a brief history of Mr. Wickham's association with my family…" the Colonel went on to explain the truth behind Mr. Wickham's refusal and subsequent demand of the living at Kympton. Mr. Wickham's rakish ways were also addressed, though in a manner that was respectful of a young lady's sensibilities and protected the identity of the victim most dear to him. Any further details the Colonel deemed could best wait until after he and Elizabeth married, and perhaps until after Mr. Darcy had been consulted. After all, there were many closer family members who knew nothing of Ramsgate, and he would not wish to usurp Darcy's role as guardian and brother.

It was nearing the dinner hour by the time the Colonel escorted Miss Elizabeth through the parsonage gate, and she bid him adieu before heading to the door. Judging by the cacophony emanating from the parlor, she knew Mr. Collins had returned, and by the sound of it he had found a captive audience in her father, who could now be questioned on his impressions of Rosings. With no one present in the front hall to detect her presence, Elizabeth did little more than roll her eyes and head abovestairs. While she did pity her father's position, she had been subjected to the same on numerous occasions, and it was just as well that she be allowed some time to compose herself before joining the party.

To say that the truth of Mr. Wickham's history was shocking to Elizabeth would be quite accurate, however any sympathy she might have felt upon hearing so poor an account of him was lessened by her lengthy absence from Hertfordshire. Any feelings of disbelief she immediately discredited, given the intimate knowledge of the Darcys and Fitzwilliams she had gained in Kent, far beyond anything she had established with Mr. Wickham in the fall and winter months. What did concern her most was the spectacle her youngest sisters most certainly continued to make of themselves over that rake of a man. She would have to speak to her father as soon as may be, perhaps he should even speak to Colonel Fitzwilliam directly before returning to Longbourn.

Chapter 17

Posted on 2009-11-20

Richard Fitzwilliam recognized very well the importance of courting his fiancée properly in order to make a positive impression on the lady's father, and did not hesitate to call on them at the parsonage the following morning. Mr. Collins was out on parish business, as Mrs. Collins was pleased to find he most often was, though the lady was happy to greet the Colonel and invited him to join their other guests in the parlor for tea.

"Mr. Bennet, I hope I find you well this morning, sir," the Colonel greeted with a proper bow.

"Well enough, Colonel. I see we find you the same," Mr. Bennet replied. As much as he loathed the idea of being parted from his favorite daughter, he had to admit that Richard Fitzwilliam continued to make a favorable impression, and he was hard-pressed to imagine a gentleman who would be more alike his daughter in temperament. That Bingley chap had seemed affable enough as well, but lacked something of the staid character Colonel Fitzwilliam hid behind his joviality. Perhaps, Mr. Bennet mused, that could be expected of the man nearly ten years older.

Meanwhile, Colonel Fitzwilliam had greeted Miss Elizabeth, and after a perfunctory shake of hands, diplomatically seated himself where he could converse comfortably with both Bennets, rather than seating himself beside Elizabeth on the settee. While Mr. Bennet could not be anything but appreciative of this, he thought it best to draw his attention back to their conversation.

"I quite enjoy living in Hertfordshire," Elizabeth was saying, "the countryside is beautiful, and the small set of friends and family around Meryton are enough for me, though I suppose some would think it rather too provincial for such esteem."

"My cousin Darcy enjoyed it well enough, I understand," the Colonel replied, being sure to turn his attention to Mr. Bennet as he spoke the last, so as to include him in the conversation.

"I would have thought he found our society merely tolerable," Mr. Bennet answered humorously.

"On the contrary, I recall in his letters he mentioned that there were ladies of some wit and friendliness to be found in Hertfordshire. I look forward to the day I can meet some of your friends and neighbors."

Mr. Bennet smiled in response to the obligatory sentiment of the Colonel's latter remark before he replied to the former, "I admit such information comes as a surprise. Mr. Darcy did not seem eager to express his enjoyment of our society last fall."

"No, I imagine not," the Colonel laughed freely, "Such a lot falls to his friend Bingley, who is more than eager to compliment everyone he meets and everything he sees. Quite the pleasant chap, Mr. Bingley, though I would not consider Darcy any less so, for all that he is reserved and sensible."

"I must say, Papa," Elizabeth added, "that whether it be my knowing him better, or having spent the last weeks in a more informal setting, Mr. Darcy improves upon acquaintance."

"All he and Georgiana have ever wanted for was a little liveliness," Colonel Fitzwilliam agreed, "which Miss Elizabeth and I shall just have to provide them!"

As much as he enjoyed his daughter's company, Mr. Bennet could not remain more than a few days without raising the suspicions of both Mrs. Bennet and Mr. Collins. Within three days of his arrival, he admitted to Elizabeth that he could no longer stretch the vague excuse of business in town, and departed for Longbourn with a promise to return a few days before the date of the wedding. He was not immune to some feelings of remorse over keeping such a secret from his wife, and most particularly over seeing his daughter married in such a clandestine fashion. However any wedding, no matter how small nor how grand, would invariably separate him from his dearest Lizzy, and he did see great advantage to his serenity in receiving the couple at Longbourn fait accompli.

So it was that within three weeks of the Colonel's proposal, the day would come for Elizabeth to walk up the aisle on her father's arm. A special license was to be purchased, a task of no great significance when petitioned for by an Earl. Once the license had been obtained, any location would be possible for conducting the ceremony, and it had already been settled that a neighboring parish some ten miles from Rosings Park would be most appropriate. A wedding in Hunsford parish was unthinkable, as neither attracting the attention of Lady Catherine nor having the ceremony officiated by Mr. Collins were desirable prospects to the parties involved. The Earl and his son planned a visit to consult with the neighboring rector and secure his cooperation in performing the ceremony.

Miss Elizabeth had never been one to place great importance on wedding finery, and the practical nature of her engagement did not induce her to think more on the subject. Lady Matlock, however, insisted that a future daughter of hers could not do without having at least a simple gown made up to mark the occasion of her wedding. She kindly ignored Elizabeth's protestations, maintaining that her seamstress in London could attend their needs with no trouble at all, and with that measurements were taken and sent off to town along with notations on a current fashion plate.

Of much greater concern to Elizabeth was the marked change in behavior of a certain gentleman as the wedding date drew near. The same gentleman for whom her feelings had changed from dislike to respect, and from respect to – she feared what else, though admiration would not have been an inaccurate description. His efforts to be agreeable and supportive of his cousin had become more and more strained, such that it was not uncommon for one of the party to ask if some estate matter at Pemberley was particularly troublesome.

Once, the Earl even went so far as to make a rather direct suggestion to his nephew, their lack of privacy from the entire party not dissuading him.

"Darcy," said Lord Matlock, his elder son seated beside him, "I realize you have already been absent from your estate far longer than you originally anticipated. Let me assure you, we would quite understand should you need to return to Pemberley, even if you cannot yet say whether you would be able to return in less than a fortnight for your cousin's wedding."

Mr. Darcy's countenance took on a terrible scowl at first, though he quickly became aware of his expression and schooled himself to appear as though he were contemplating his uncle's suggestion. So distracted was he by this effort that he did not notice his sister's approach until she seated herself beside him.

"Brother," Miss Darcy implored softly, "I am glad to have had you near these last weeks, but that would not make me any less sorry to see you depart. It distresses me that business may necessitate your going away at such a significant time."

With a wistful smile, Mr. Darcy assured his sister that he would stay, though he quickly excused himself, citing the same pretense of business that had started the conversation.

Miss Darcy calmly returned to her needlework, sufficiently placated by her brother's assurances. Across the room, however, Miss Elizabeth was anything but. However with a great deal of effort, she was able to turn her attention back to her conversation with Lady Matlock and Colonel Fitzwilliam.

Privately, she cited this incident as yet another example of Mr. Darcy's odd behavior. Over the last weeks leading up to the wedding, it seemed to Elizabeth that while Mr. Darcy was careful to ensure that they spoke enough not to draw undue attention, they did not interact as much as they once had, and each of their exchanges lacked something which she now only recognized in its absence. It was as though there was nothing to be said between them and too much left unsaid all at once. This barrier of sorts was a constant presence, the only change in their situation being her suspicions grew daily that she would one day regret this course. Unfortunately each passing day also increased her conviction that she had worked herself into an insurmountable muddle with no feasible means of escape – were an escape even to be attempted. How could she take back her promise to an honest gentleman, injuring himself and all of his family, and harming the reputation of her own relations – all of this based on only the unconfirmed hopes that an illustrious gentleman of ten thousand a year might return her modest affections, the Colonel's cousin no less!

Elizabeth might have found her situation overwhelmingly dire indeed, were she a woman prone to melancholy and self-pity. As it was, she urged herself to focus on all of the positives attached to her situation. After all, she did not think she should not allow her confusion over Mr. Darcy to discount the fact that her interactions with Colonel Fitzwilliam were consistently pleasant and alluded to a very companionable future. He was very fond of dancing, and as the season would not yet be over after they were married, Lady Matlock was eager that they join the Fitzwilliams for some weeks before the close of the season. They talked of balls and parties where she might be presented to his friends and his parents' acquaintances.

Neither could say for certain whether their married income would ever support spending the season in town. However the Colonel seemed to accept the idea of quitting such a lifestyle and Miss Elizabeth had not known it to begin with. It was agreed between them that they could enjoy what was left of the current season without the expectation of extravagant visits to town for the season in future years, with the exception of those times when they were invited to Matlock house for a few weeks and might attend a ball or two.

With less than a week before the proposed date of the wedding, Elizabeth eagerly awaited the arrival of her father's carriage. It had been of great comfort to her to learn that as Jane was still in residence at Gracechurch Street, she would travel with their father from London into Kent. By this, the Gardiners had been brought into the scheme , and Mrs. Gardiner had immediately sent a letter on to her niece.

Dearest Lizzy,

I understand we are to congratulate you on your upcoming nuptials to the Honorable Colonel Fitzwilliam. My dearest niece, how sly you have been to keep all hints of your attachment from us in your letters! Be forewarned that as penance I shall expect you to be most cooperative as I extract all of the details from you when I see you next. I admit I first held some concerns when your father told us of your engagement and wedding arrangements, but I will not distress you with them, for I have every confidence in your good judgment, and any maternal lessons you have been given on "how to draw a man in and secure him" will not have been applied here. Mr. Bennet assures us that your Colonel seemed a very fine young man, not unlike you in joviality and wit. This pleases me greatly – though I have always been confident you would one day find a gentleman who was nothing less and would recognize you for the treasure that you are.

Please accept my dearest wishes for your health and happiness, and know that in your marriage you will always be my beloved niece, and I hope you will continue to confide in me that we may support each other as you embark on this new aspect of life.

Your loving aunt,

M. Gardiner

Elizabeth had just finished another perusal of her aunt's letter when a carriage could be heard turning into the small drive before the parsonage. She leapt from her seat and bounded through the front door, heedless of the bonnet and gloves hanging idly in the entrance hall. She reached the carriage almost before Mr. Bennet had a chance to hand Jane down and the two Misses Bennet embraced fiercely, as reunited sisters can be expected to do. Charlotte Collins soon followed – albeit more sedately – greeting her guests and inviting them to settle into the house.

Miss Jane Bennet was included in an invitation to Rosings the following day, Lady Matlock having learned that Miss Elizabeth's elder sister had arrived. The eldest Miss Bennet was presented to Lady Catherine, much as her sister had been before her. It must be said however, that Jane's delicate manner and demure responses did much to recommend her, and had she not come from such an unfortunate family, Lady Catherine would have been inclined to assist her. It should come as no surprise that while this disparagement of her connections was not expressed directly, the sentiment was thinly veiled in many of the great Lady's remarks.

Far from proud of her sister's comments, Lady Matlock was quick to intercede, informing Lady Catherine that if she had no objections, they had planned to take their refreshments in the gardens again, the fresh air being of such great benefit to the Colonel's health. Lady Catherine agreed with this completely, and pontificated on the benefits of fresh air – in reasonable doses of course – to a recovering constitution. Though as she had on most previous occasions, Lady Catherine deemed the weather not mild enough to suit Anne's needs, and announced that they would not join the party.

While Jane had wished to see the best in the situation, and would wonder if there had been some mistake on her part, what she observed that afternoon at Rosings made her uneasy. Having known something of the joys of being in love from last fall, she had travelled to Kent in anticipation of seeing her sister experience much of the same. She was surprised, then, to see her sister's liveliness not brightened at the side of her fiancé, but somewhat constrained. It was not that Elizabeth seemed unhappy in any way – far from it – but to a sister's eye, something was amiss.

Mr. Darcy's attention to her sister, she also noticed. He bore the same mask of reserve she had seen often in Hertfordshire, but the effect was belittled by how frequently his gaze was fixed upon Elizabeth. He seemed to avoid speaking to her, but he was no less attentive as he discreetly followed her conversations. Jane had never been one to share her sister's ill opinion of him, and while she admitted she had been too distracted in the fall to form suspicions of a tender regard, she was developing them now. Not only of the gentleman, but that in unguarded moments, her sister did not seem unaffected by him. That Elizabeth noticed Mr. Darcy's behavior was clear; that she was troubled by it, equally so. Jane felt she could not in good conscience go without speaking of it to Elizabeth, and endeavored to do so once they had reached the privacy of their room at Hunsford.

"Are you sure this is what you wish, dearest sister?" Jane inquired as she and her younger sister prepared for bed that evening.

Elizabeth's hairbrush stilled in her hand as she turned to face her sister. "Do you doubt me, Jane?"

"Of course not, Lizzy. It is just that your letters were more often full of Mr. Darcy than the Colonel."

"Well, I could not have much to say about the poor Colonel when his unconscious condition had not changed since the last time I wrote," Elizabeth rationalized defensively, though under Jane's gentle gaze, she immediately regretted her harsh tone. "I had not realized how much I wrote about the rest of the party," she added softly.

That there were several other members of the party Elizabeth could have written about and did not, Jane would have to ignore at present. Elizabeth had not welcomed the subject of Mr. Darcy, and Jane was unsure of pressing the point. Even if her implication was founded, there was a fair chance it would prove to be entirely fruitless, and it would hardly be helpful to call her sister's attention to it if that were the case.

Jane moved to sit beside her sister, taking her hand and pressing it affectionately. "I know that you have always desired only to marry a man you can respect," she replied at length, "and I worry that you are being rushed into something less, or at least without being afforded time to know the gentleman well enough to allow the potential for respect to grow into something more concrete."

"Oh Jane," Elizabeth cried somewhat desperately, the earnest expression in her eyes imploring her sister to understand, "a kind and amiable man, the son of an Earl no less, has proposed; any woman would be hard-pressed to refuse such an offer. Besides," she added with an impish smile, "given the ilk I have previously attracted for offers of marriage, I would have been a fool not to accept him."

Jane reluctantly admitted her sister's first point to be valid, though she was no less concerned that Elizabeth had prevaricated to humor in the last. She was not left to this melancholy thought for long however, as her younger sister pointed out that by some gross bout of negligence, they had yet to speak a single word of Mr. Bingley. She did try to keep that happy subject from distracting her, but Jane soon found herself absorbed in relating the more intimate details of her courtship that she had not committed to paper in her letters. The sisters spoke animatedly into the night about the gentleman who had promised Jane she would not long bear the name Bennet.

With only two days remaining before she was to marry Colonel Fitzwilliam, Elizabeth found herself with surprisingly little to do. The majority of her belongings remained at Longbourn, and would be packed once she arrived home – or rather made her first visit to her childhood home. Those possessions she had brought to Hunsford were already in order, and many already placed in her trunk. A final fitting of her new gown had taken place the day prior, and with no adjustments needing to be made, it now hung in the parsonage, ready for use. The Earl and his younger son had gone to meet with the neighboring rector who had agreed to conduct the ceremony, that any final details would be addressed. Miss Elizabeth could think of no better way to pass this extra time than by venturing out into the park for a walk.

Little did Miss Elizabeth know that another gentleman was occupied much the same, and that he had been so with more and more frequency of late. He often hoped to come across her in the park, though he knew the hope to be in vain, and knew not what he would wish to say even if he were to find her there. So vividly had he imagined her walking through one of his favorite groves that when she entered it, he at first doubted whether it could truly be her.

"Mr. Darcy!" Elizabeth exclaimed with genuine surprise, not having attended her whereabouts until she found the gentleman immediately before her.

"Miss Elizabeth," he responded stiffly, something about his expression giving her to further study of it. She held a strong suspicion that this was more a hint of despondency than formality, but given her own emotional involvement she could not say for certain.

"I hope I have not interrupted your privacy, sir," she offered quietly, wishing further opportunity to gauge his state of mind.

"Not at all," he replied with a taut smile, "I should have turned in just a moment."

Elizabeth could not help wondering if perhaps her interruption had not been entirely welcome – that is until Mr. Darcy offered his arm to her. The hand before her was tentative, and when she brought her eyes up to observe his countenance, she could only think to describe his expression as shrouded but tender. He must have found a positive response in her answering gaze, for his free hand reached to place hers in the crook of his arm. Any uncertainties that she may misread his gentle expression were belied by the cherished manner in which he linked her arm with his.

At length, Mr. Darcy spoke, "I hope my recent conduct has not led you to believe I bear you any ill-will. I know I have been reticent, but I have only the highest opinion of you, I assure you." Mr. Darcy was taken aback by his own words, and the very fine line drawn between their innocent meaning and the extent of his feelings that lay just barely concealed beneath them.

"I know this is long overdue and I will say what must be said," he said hurriedly, his agitation clear, "I wish…that is, I can see how well you and Richard get on together. I hope you shall find every felicity…in marriage to my cousin."

"Mr. Darcy…" Elizabeth implored, not at all unaffected by the mechanical tone in which he had spoken.

"Please Miss Bennet," he cried, abruptly halting his pace, "let us speak no more on past behaviors. Yours have been beyond reproach," he paused, looking up to hold her gaze as he continued, "I have only to be ashamed of what my own have been."

He had just stopped himself from taking her hand before he said the last; she knew it – and a part of her very much wished that he had. Not breaking eye contact, she knew this might be her last opportunity to make a rather significant query of the gentleman before her.

"Can you give me any reason that I should not marry your cousin?"

The confusion and apprehension Elizabeth felt were clearly evident in her tone of voice, and she at once hoped and feared that he understood the full meaning of her question.

For the first time in their acquaintance, Mr. Darcy could not meet her eye and resolutely turned away. He feared his countenance would be unequal to hiding the truth he was honor bound to conceal. It was some moments before he trusted himself to speak, and in a low, distant tone replied, "No, I cannot."

They had started walking again after he spoke, each moving numbly under the crushing weight of their conversation. Neither said anything further nor greatly attended the direction of their feet. Both were strongly aware of a sense of limbo between them that would end when they parted, and were equally reluctant to break it. Whether any acknowledgement was passed between them as they parted, neither would be able to say, though after walking for some time in such a fashion, they inevitably went their separate ways. Each for their own destinations, and each under the weight of thoughts left unexpressed.

Chapter 18

As the day of her wedding dawned, Elizabeth awoke determined to be glad of the event to come. This day she was to receive a better lot in marriage than most women in her situation, and perhaps better than she ever had rational hope of expecting. She need never fear the inequality and discord her parents suffered, nor the genteel poverty and starvation in the hedgerows her mother so frequently lamented. It would instead be a new adventure of intelligent conversation, managing her own home, and one day a growing family, all of which were happy anticipations indeed.

Miss Elizabeth and her sister were escorted to the church by their father, Mr. Bennet's carriage conveying the trio into the town of Westerham where the ceremony would take place.

Upon their arrival, Miss Elizabeth was taken into the vestibule to make final adjustments, receiving well wishes and warm embraces from Jane and her father until the time came for the ceremony to begin.

The doors to the sanctuary were opened and Miss Elizabeth walked up the aisle on her father's arm, as many a bride had done before her. She searched the Colonel's face as she slowly approached the front of the church, wondering if any signs of apprehension she might have detected were genuine or only the imaginings of her anxious mind.

At last Miss Elizabeth reached the altar, her father placed a tender kiss upon her cheek, and stepped back to take his seat. In a matter of moments the ceremony would be complete, and Elizabeth believed she would be able to complete her part in it with her equanimity intact – that is until she turned to look upon the one gentleman whose eyes she had been trying to avoid. His gaze had been averted as she came up the aisle, but now Mr. Darcy's eyes bore into hers, emotions both raw and conflicted piercing through the steely mask of his facial expression. As much as she had struggled to read his countenance in the past, Elizabeth could not ignore or misunderstand its meaning now, despite his efforts to conceal it. She struggled for words to say or an action to take, when suddenly that necessity was taken from her.

The doors to the church crashed open, and with no small amount of apprehension all eyes turned to see Lady Catherine storming up the aisle at a much faster pace than Elizabeth and her father had just taken.

"I object to this wedding, and I demand to be heard!" she proclaimed to the assembly at large, ignoring the challenging expressions of Lord and Lady Matlock. "You, Miss Bennet, must give up this scheme of marrying my nephew at once. I simply shall not allow it."

"Now see here," the Earl interjected strongly, taking a firm step towards his sister.

"It is alright, my Lord," Elizabeth replied, her courage rising. She knew there was nothing for it now but to state the truth of the matter. Her integrity demanded it. If any remnants of her hopes should remain to be collected, such matters would have to be addressed after the dust had settled.

"Lady Catherine," said Elizabeth, boldly meeting her Ladyship's eye, "I am afraid I must agree with you," she paused as several faces around the room fell, though Lady Catherine smiled smugly, "because I am in love with your nephew."

Elizabeth hesitantly turned her gaze to Colonel Fitzwilliam, her bravado failing at the puzzled expression she found there, and she instead turned to the kind and concerned eyes of her father as she continued.

"Not that one…that one." Elizabeth gestured from Colonel Fitzwilliam to Mr. Darcy as she spoke. Every eye turned to her in astonishment, such that Mr. Bennet may have been the only one to notice the shock, recognition, then pride and joy that shone in Mr. Darcy's eyes.

The chaos that followed Elizabeth's pronouncement was no less than she had feared and expected. Lady Catherine's descent upon them was rapid and fierce as she insisted that Mr. Darcy explain how this young woman could make such a claim. She demanded he clarify at once that no such attachment existed on his part, as he had already established himself as promised to Anne. Mr. Darcy was no less vehement in his defense of Miss Elizabeth's character than he was in reminding his aunt that as a gentleman of independent means, assertions as to his immediate marital prospects would be made by no one other than himself. As the heated discussion began to escalate, the Earl sharply interjected that now was not the time for Lady Catherine's self-important machinations, and further argument ensued on how she had made a most unwelcome intrusion.

One gentleman stood witnessing the scene, feeling the full weight of how his own actions had contributed to the situation at hand, and how differently he had imagined this event would transpire. At that very moment, however, the two parties most directly involved stood silent amid the vicious upheaval. For once he was very glad of his Aunt's vociferous and demanding nature, as it allowed him the opportunity to extract the would-be bride as well as his brother.

"Miss Bennet," Viscount Cressbrook said quietly as he offered his arm. Turning to the Colonel, he placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and silently led to two towards a side door. "I believe there is an issue to be addressed," he said softly, "and neither of you shall benefit from bearing witness to this scene."

Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed rather reluctant to heed this instruction, but Lady Matlock had noticed their movement, and looking fondly on her younger son, nodded for him to go before Lady Catherine's attention was drawn.

Once outside, the Viscount turned a wary eye to the distressed young woman before him, ever conscious of his brother's unreadable expression. "Miss Bennet, forgive me," he said remorsefully, "Neither of you would be in this situation if I had not pressed you in spite of your own reluctance. Allow me to go and fetch your father, I imagine you are eager to leave as soon as you are able. I know there are things you and Richard must discuss, but rest assured I will bare all to my family directly. Do not hesitate to explain my culpability in all of this while you speak to my brother; once you have been allowed to depart, I will speak to him as well."

The Colonel was not entirely clear on what matter his brother had pressed Miss Bennet, and would be sure to demand an answer, but for now he was struck by the kindness and contrition with which the Viscount spoke to her. He determined to withhold the full weight of his judgment until he had heard the whole of her story, particularly as it was plain to see the young lady was quite distraught and scarcely able meet his eye.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam, I assure you I am very sorry for all that has just taken place, but I must tell you the truth before another word is spoken, for much is not as it seems."

"Very well," the Colonel said calmly, offering a fine display of restraint as he led her to a bench just beyond the churchyard. "Let us be seated, that I may hear what you have to say."

Elizabeth took a deep breath to steady herself. The gentleman before her deserved to hear the full truth of the matter, and that is precisely what she would tell him.

"We never met before the day of your accident," she began with care, "I should have been more adamant about the truth, but your mother assumed…I should have corrected her at the first opportunity but then your – …someone," Elizabeth smiled a bit, as clearly it was no secret to Colonel Fitzwilliam that she referred to his brother, "someone feared it would be unwise to do so. I never should have allowed myself to be persuaded."

Colonel Fitzwilliam sat thoughtfully for some moments, during which Elizabeth both respected his need to consider this information and feared his reaction.

"I must admit," he said at length, though with an inflection not quite his own, "when I awoke, I was barraged and swayed in much the same fashion."

"As a matter of fact," he added, sounding much more like himself, "I would say that in essentials, this has been an arranged match between the two of us – we were each given to accept it under the same basic principles, or at least pursue a continuance of the attachment on that foundation. We simply had not known before this moment that the other was under much the same pressure."

Though much more could have been said between Colonel Fitzwilliam and Miss Elizabeth, neither gave voice to anything further. The explosive revelation of the truth was too fresh, and neither could give words of comfort to the other without giving further embarrassment to themselves by the same.

The pair rose a few moments later as Mr. Bennet approached, placing a protective hand on his daughter's shoulder as she and her former suitor exchanged earnest – if not formal – adieus and wishes for each other's health and happiness.

The general uproar had died down by the time the Colonel left the churchyard where he and Elizabeth had spoken. Miss Elizabeth had long ago left the church under the escort of her father and sister, and by some miracle – or perhaps a stroke of mercy – Lady Catherine had departed as well.

As it happened, the Earl had all but ordered Lady Catherine into her carriage, stating that no wedding was to take place, and as such, the matter did not concern her and she should return to Rosings Park. Any further discussion she wished to hold would be addressed once the Earl and his family joined her there. Having said all he cared to say on the subject, Mr. Darcy had ushered Miss Darcy to their own carriage, with every intention of seeing his sister and her companion ensconced in the privacy of their own rooms once they returned to Rosings.

While much further discussion would take place on the subject, the Viscount was then able to at least give his parents to understand that he knew of the primary misunderstanding between the Colonel and Miss Elizabeth, and that the outcome would not seem so distressing once the particulars were sorted out.

So quiet was the once frenzied scene that Colonel Fitzwilliam might have thought himself entirely abandoned had he not come around the corner to see his parents and brother exiting the church in company with the parson.

Lord and Lady Matlock said their farewells to the vicar and headed towards the carriage awaiting them in the lane. The Colonel was about to cut across the churchyard to do the same, but his attention was drawn to the parson's actions as he turned to lock the church doors, muttering something to the effect of, "Eleanor will hardly believe me when I tell her of this."

At first the Colonel was not sure if he had heard the parson speak, but when the words registered, he was struck still. The name Eleanor unconsciously hung on his breath as a flood of blurry memories trickled back into clarity.

That fiery red hair, her curls bobbing as they danced, her green eyes smiling affectionately when he spoke and laughing when she replied, her tender hand meeting his grasp each time the steps of the dance brought them together. It had been a supper set, followed by the most pleasant dinner he had ever had at a ball. To think that Major Jacoby, the second son of a modest estate, would have such a charming and beautiful sister.

"Eleanor Jacoby, of Tatsfield, Kent…" Colonel Fitzwilliam whispered with a faint smile hanging about his lips as he slipped back into reverie. He had kissed her hand as he left her uncle Lord Braynard's townhouse, knowing that she would soon return home to Kent, and informing her that they should likely meet again soon when he visited Rosings, a prospect which was quite pleasing to him indeed.

The Colonel realized the probable effect of the last months with no little amount of trepidation. Had she heard of his injury through her brother? He could scarcely imagine what she had heard or what she must think of him. Of more immediate concern was whether or not it would be wrong of him to call, so belatedly to Miss Jacoby and yet so immediately following the misunderstanding with Miss Bennet. Yet how long could he wait, and what on earth should he tell his family by way of explanation?

Colonel Fitzwilliam was rather preoccupied by these reflections when he approached the carriage, but given the events of the morning, his family made no objection to his reticence as they returned to Rosings Park.

Viscount Cressbrook knew enough of the particulars to explain the situation to his parents without his brother's assistance, and offered to do so as they entered the house. Colonel Fitzwilliam had no desire to be present for the recounting of it, and silently assented, leaving his parents and brother to have a rather important discussion in the study. At long last, the charade had ended, and each of the Fitzwilliams was cognizant of the true extent of acquaintance between Richard Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth Bennet.

"Oh Richard, I am so sorry," said Lady Matlock as she entered her son's room, not half an hour after they had parted.

"It is alright, mother, truly," said Colonel Fitzwilliam, his manner of expression strikingly genuine, "I do not have the slightest idea how this whole muddle came about, nor grew to such unfortunate proportions, but…"

The Colonel paused thoughtfully, wondering how much to convey and how to go about it, "I have only just recently recalled…that is…do you remember when I wrote to you early in the spring? I told you of a friend's sister that I met in London, a very beautiful sister who would be traveling to Kent just a few weeks before Darcy and myself."

"But I had thought..." Lady Matlock faltered.

"Forgive me for not expressing myself more plainly," he said, truly regretting that he had been so ambiguous in his letter, "I believe father has met Major Jacoby on occasion, as we have shared a post these four years. It was not until this year that I met his sister, Miss Eleanor Jacoby."

"Oh!" the fanciful expression brought on by the mere mention of her name was not lost on Lady Matlock, such that she could not suppress her happy exclamation.

Colonel Fitzwilliam smiled – albeit a bit bashfully – at this evidence of how his attachment satisfied her maternal hopes, "I am very happy to say that I can now recall each of our meetings quite vividly...and also quite tenderly."

Lady Matlock returned his smile and pressed her son's hand affectionately as he continued.

"Her family may not be of Aunt Catherine's particular notice, for they are not of the first circles, nor of the most affluent means, but her father is a gentleman, and as the second son of the previous Lord Braynard, he is of good connections. Mr. Jacoby's estate, Brenstrom, is not ten miles from Rosings."

The Colonel did not quite know what to add, for as much as he was quite determined to pursue Miss Jacoby despite the modest size of her dowry, he was unsure of what his mother would say.

All such concerns were answered for him by Lady Matlock's next statement.

"Do promise me you will be careful when you travel there. Is there any hope of talking you into ordering a curricle in the morning instead of riding out to see her?"

She would have much to explain regarding Colonel Fitzwilliam – he knew. That he should be feeling some great amount of guilt for pressing his suit to Miss Elizabeth he knew as well, and yet the overwhelming relief her words had given were too great for him to dwell on anything else. He desired nothing more than to see her standing before him, those blessed words of love falling from her lips and the answering sentiment falling from his own.

At last Mr. Darcy approached the Hunsford parsonage, only to find the front of the house already a flurry of activity as a carriage was loaded and prepared for travel. He could not have reasonably expected the Bennets to stay longer, but that particular truth could not make him any happier about being separated from Elizabeth in such a way.

As had most often occurred when Mr. Darcy called at the parsonage, he could clearly see Mr. Collins watching his approach from the bookroom – albeit with a wary eye on this particular occasion. He had almost declared his mission a hopeless case when much to his relief, Miss Elizabeth herself passed through the front door. Whether she had also seen him approach and run out to greet him or was simply preparing for the journey he would not flatter his vanity to guess, but his effect on her was immediately recognizable nonetheless. She blushed quite prettily, though soon replaced this with an impish smile as she wordlessly led him to the garden around the side of the house.

Mr. Darcy's first impulse was to express the depth of his affections as sensibly and as warmly as a man violently in love can be supposed to do, but he settled for a more prudent approach.

"I hope I find you well, Miss Elizabeth, considering the eventful proceedings of the morning."

"I am well, sir, I thank you," Elizabeth replied, "I trust you are the same?"

"Tolerably so," he replied with a warm and teasing smile, "though I admit to coming here with great hopes of improvement."

Elizabeth could have laughed aloud with happiness at his good humor, but settled for the bravado to say, "If it would be of any assistance to the improvement of your wellbeing, I would have you know that I meant what I said this morning."

"Truly?" Mr. Darcy asked hopefully.

"Indeed, sir," Elizabeth looked down, a sudden blush diffusing on her cheeks for her bold admissions, "I do believe it cannot be helped. Though I do regret the effects this shall likely have on the Colonel and his family, and even your own reputation."

Mr. Darcy would not have her apprehension cause her to miss the earnestness of his response, and so reached to ever so gently lift her chin before he replied, "If I may hope to one day secure our happiness together, I shall never have cause to repine."

A rustling from a nearby window gave the pair an untimely reminder that they had not been so fortunate as to escape the notice of Mr. Collins, who by all appearances was growing quite agitated by the tete-a-tete taking place in his garden. It would certainly be most upsetting to his noble patroness.

"I am afraid I must return to Hertfordshire, sir," Elizabeth said softly.

Mr. Darcy took her hand in his, and pressing it with firm reassurance, said, "All will be well, Elizabeth. I promise you, all will be well."

Mr. Darcy bowed over her hand, his lips hovering over her fingers for a moment before brushing them with the lightest of kisses.

It was some moments before Elizabeth became aware of her surroundings, and that Mr. Darcy was now several paces away, passing through the gate and out into the lane. As much as she might have wished to unabashedly run out in pursuit of him, there was nothing she could do but return to the house and allow her father to escort her home.

Chapter 19

Posted on 2009-11-28

Just as Lady Matlock had predicted, the sun had not long risen in the sky before Colonel Fitzwilliam set off to Brenstrom, where Miss Jacoby resided. His arrival there was clearly of much surprise, such that Mr. Jacoby was hesitant at best to receive him, particularly as the Colonel had inquired whether an audience with Miss Jacoby would be permitted. Mr. Jacoby did, however, agree to his wife's prudent suggestion that the young gentleman at least join them for tea, having ridden such a distance to pay a call.

"I understand from my son that you suffered quite an injury earlier this spring," Mrs. Jacoby began kindly, "I am glad to see that you are so well recovered."

"Thank you, madam," the Colonel replied, trying to keep his attention on the lady speaking to him, though admittedly his eyes were more often directed towards her eldest daughter, "I confess my recovery was neither so rapid nor so uneventful as I would have wished, but I am very glad to be free of it."

"It has been some time since my brother and I last met with you in London, sir," Miss Jacoby ventured at last.

"Indeed it has," Colonel Fitzwilliam replied wistfully, "Not since the twenty-sixth of February, following the Sutherby's ball. I have long anticipated the honor of being able to sit with you as I do today, and making the pleasurable acquaintance of all of your family."

The lady's eyes shimmered with remembrance, though she endeavored to even her reply, "It is a pity my brother cannot be here to join you, he was only able to remain a fortnight after escorting me from town."

"A pity indeed, though I imagine he would require detailed accounts of my injury and recuperation that the ladies present might not care to hear," he replied, with a moderately successful attempt at levity.

"I would not object to them, Colonel," said Miss Jacoby, concern and compassion quite evident in her expression.

"Why do you not take a turn about the garden, then?" suggested Mrs. Jacoby, "Your younger siblings should be returned to their lessons, and I imagine the doctor has recommended fresh air and exercise that is not overtly strenuous, Colonel?"

"That he has," the gentleman agreed with a brilliant smile.

Miss Jacoby preceded her guest into the foyer where she set about securing her bonnet before accepting the Colonel's arm to escort her outside.

"I cannot tell you how truly glad I am to renew our acquaintance, Miss Jacoby," the Colonel began.

"As am I, Colonel Fitzwilliam," she replied with feeling.

"I do hope you were not too distressed by my unexpected delay." He turned to her attentively, intent on observing her reaction.

"It was not long before my brother received news of your injury, though I admit I was rather concerned when he would share little of the details with me."

Colonel Fitzwilliam could see the inquiry in her eyes, though she hesitated to be overly forward. And yet, he knew she was not a lady of feeble sensibilities from whom he must hide the truth. He considered her for a moment before he replied, "In truth I was thrown from my horse the day after my arrival in Kent. My injuries were such that it was some weeks before I regained consciousness."

Miss Jacoby gasped, though with rather more compassion than shock as she laid a caring hand upon his arm.

The Colonel smiled to reassure her, "I am fully recovered now, as you see, but as I mentioned before, much occurred during my recovery. I am not proud of it, and I fear it may be painful for you to hear, but I do care about you, Miss Eleanor, such that I could not feel right furthering our attachment without revealing the truth to you."

Miss Jacoby paled a bit at this, but resolved to hear what her suitor would say without distressing herself over speculation. They moved in silence until they came upon a garden bench, the Colonel aiding Miss Jacoby to seat herself before sitting beside her at a polite distance. One look upon her countenance, a politely impassive mask inadequately concealing her apprehension, was all he needed to know he must begin.

"When I awoke, my family had been gathered for some time, hoping to aid my recovery in any way they could. My aunt's parson was eager to offer the assistance of his household, and a young lady, a visiting friend of his wife, was of particular comfort to my mother and of use to my aunt. I had written to my mother of a wonderful young lady I hoped to meet in Kent," here the Colonel paused to give his companion a significant look, leaving her in no doubt that he had written of her, "Unfortunately during the weeks of my unconsciousness, my family came to mistakenly connect the information in my letter with Miss Bennet who had come to visit her friend.

"I regained consciousness to the immediate revelation that my family 'knew' me to be all but engaged to her, and that I must have somehow lost those memories to my injury. Everything was so fuzzy when I first came into consciousness. The bits and pieces of all my memories were there, it seemed, but disjointed. As I continued to recover, my clarity gradually came back together, but I cannot tell you how much it pains me that I could not immediately remember clearly enough to refute my family's claims as false."

"Do you come here to tell me that your honor is now engaged to her?" Miss Jacoby inquired breathlessly.

"No! Forgive me, Eleanor, I should have assured you at once. I come here a free man, in fact in some ways more able to commit myself than I was previously. I do regret how close I came to pledging myself to another, a match founded in prudence and persuasion rather than strength of attachment. I only wish my remembrance of our time together in London had been clear at once, else none of this would have come to pass.

"I am sorry if this revelation has brought you pain, I assure you it was not intended," the Colonel said earnestly, clasping her hand as he did so, "but I could not allow myself to speak to you of my affections, ask anything of you regarding my hopes of your own, without being completely truthful with you."

Miss Jacoby seemed to consider this for a while, before smiling playfully up at the man before her, who while bearing ill tidings, had all but declared himself in love with her, and would likely do so were she to encourage him, "Well then, I suppose now you may speak and inquire as you choose."

Her response earned a broad smile from Colonel Fitzwilliam, and he expounded on all that recommended her to him, and how striking a contrast she made to the daughters of the haut ton who had never drawn a second glance from him before. He praised her vivacity, beauty, and wit; cementing quite clearly that in the Colonel's opinion at least, she was everything that was lovely.

He then addressed the delicate matter of his father's new-found opinion regarding his second son's felicity, citing his limited means as the primary reason he had held back before. He assured Miss Jacoby that he would no longer have to consider whether he could ask a lady such as herself to accept the lot of a poor soldier's wife.

At length Colonel Fitzwilliam admitted he had lingered far longer and said far more than her father was likely to approve. He joked that he best leave before an angered Mr. Jacoby drove him off the property, but not without a promise of returning to call on her again very soon.

Not two days had passed since Miss Elizabeth's return to Longbourn when Mr. Darcy could be seen approaching the house, a nosegay of summer blossoms clutched firmly in his grasp. All but one member of the household was rather surprised by his sudden appearance, and given that his cold and quiet manners had not much improved from his last visit, they were quite taken aback.

The motive behind his presence was soon revealed, however, when after the requisite civilities had been performed to the lady of the house, Mr. Darcy turned his attention to Miss Elizabeth. He greeted her warmly, offering the nosegay in much more tender a manner than most of the Bennets had believed him capable. Miss Elizabeth smiled and blushed, as the recipient of such a token can be expected to do. After what seemed an interminable length – though only to the gentleman so anxiously anticipating her response – she raised her eyes to Mr. Darcy's and returned his warm greeting, a broad smile effusing over his face as she did so.

In a manner completely devoid of tact did Mrs. Bennet then usher her least favorite daughter and a most unexpected – though by no means unwelcome – suitor out into the gardens. In this particular case, however, the gentleman would have been hard pressed to recall a single detail of the matron's indelicate effusions, to which he gave so little consequence or attention. Only one lady held his rapt attention, and she graciously accepted his arm as he led her from the house. The rustling of curtains and muffled squeals and speculations, while hardly indiscernible, gave him not the slightest degree of pause regarding his present course. He needed only to look down upon Miss Elizabeth's bright and open countenance to feel a swell of determination, and found himself quite driven to act upon it as quickly as possible.

At the first garden bench they approached, Mr. Darcy asked Miss Elizabeth if she might care to sit for a moment. He held her hand to steady her as she descended, not releasing it as he then made a descent of his own, his knee pressing firmly into the grass beneath. Elizabeth spared a brief glance for the untimely interruption of what sounded like a shriek from her mother – though intermixed with Kitty's giggles it was hard to tell. However her attention immediately returned to the handsome gentleman humbling himself before her – bearing a rather becoming expression with glints of boyish enthusiasm she might add – and she found herself clamping down on her lower lip to suppress her joy.

"Miss Bennet, I have a particular question to ask of you, and I care not who hears it. May I court you?"

"Yes," she smiled brilliantly at his nearly defiant determination, for she was almost positive his speech showed a certain influence of her own impertinence. "And may I add that I shall very much look forward to your calls."

Mr. Darcy returned her smile with equal strength and placed a kiss upon her hand, which was still encased in his tender grasp. He then rose to his feet and helped Elizabeth to do the same, leading her further into the garden and away from the audience he hoped would now be distracted by Mrs. Bennet's imminent shouts of glee. "Thank you. And I shall add that I look forward to our time together as well, that I may anticipate a future request that would have you make me the happiest of men."

"And do away with that dour gentleman you seem to have left behind in my mother's drawing room?" Elizabeth stopped and turned to smile impishly at him, "Pity, that. I had developed quite a taste for serious young gentlemen."

"A development of which I intend to take full advantage, I assure you," Mr. Darcy returned her smile then, again catching her hand in his. His free hand reached up to caress her fingers, and for a moment, both were lost in the activity while he tenderly traced his fingers along her hand, as though to commit its every contour to memory.

At length, Mr. Darcy looked up at her and ceased his movements, offering his arm as he placed her hand upon his sleeve, covering it affectionately with his own, "As much as I would love to continue on in such a fashion, I imagine Bingley has arrived by now."

"Mr. Bingley has accompanied you?" Elizabeth replied as they resumed a circuitous path through the garden.

"Indeed he has."

"I suppose I should not be surprised. It would hardly be proper for a guest to occupy the house in his absence." The overt sincerity in her voice and curl of her lips gave a hint that she was yet to have done with it, and Mr. Darcy looked on expectantly with some idea of what was to come. "Though I suppose departing for Longbourn without him this morning may fall into the same category of behavior."

"Of that, I must admit myself entirely guilty. I know not the particulars of his delay, only that it was nothing serious, and that this particular morning I was not of a mind to wait."

At that moment, a horse's hooves could be heard striking Longbourn's gravel drive, none other than Mr. Bingley in its saddle.

"It seems all dilemmas of ill-matched waistcoats and the like are now resolved," Elizabeth teased amiably.

"I suppose your mother would not allow us out for a lengthier walk, now that Bingley has arrived?" Mr. Darcy inquired hopefully.

"On the contrary sir, your positive opinion of the idea is highly providential, as I believe such a circumstance should hardly be avoidable, even if you wished it."

It was soon to be found that Mr. Bingley's delay was due the very significant nature of the call he would be paying at Longbourn, such that Mr. Bennet was formally approached by two gentlemen that day – one for permission to court Miss Elizabeth, and the other for consent to the proposal of marriage he had made to Miss Jane. A happier day at Longbourn could not be easily remembered, and therefore if Mrs. Bennet was more than usually boisterous in her effusions, or overeager to include all of the gentlemen's favorite courses in a celebratory dinner the following evening, none could blame her for the excitement.

Chapter 20

The gentlemen from Netherfield had been sent away the previous afternoon with nothing but the felicity that further securing their ladies' affection is wont to inspire, and were still under the influence of the same when they came to call again the following morning. That is not to say, however that such happy thoughts could override the more serious forever, and while Mr. Bingley sat with Miss Bennet to discuss the date and other details for their upcoming nuptials, Mr. Darcy and Miss Elizabeth discussed another matter of equal sincerity.

They greeted each other warmly, basking in the novelty and comfort that newly confessed lovers can scarcely contain. Though each had their own reasons to believe the discussion necessary – she very concerned that nothing be misconstrued in his understanding, and he feeling a responsibility towards his cousin, himself, and even her, to understand to what degree he had interfered.

"I think we can both agree that something must be said of what has occurred, and I cannot pretend this conversation will be easy or entirely pleasant," Mr. Darcy began, "but first I must tell you that while they would not go into details, both of my cousins have been adamant that you are not to blame, James being rather remorseful about it. I will not press you for more than you wish to share, but you must know that you need not fear that I will think badly of you for anything that you relate."

"I would prefer that you know all," Elizabeth replied seriously, "I could not feel well about it keeping any portion of the truth from you. Truly I see no need for it, as any false assumption could only be less pleasant than the truth. Oh! I can hardly imagine what you must have thought and felt."

Elizabeth internally began to scold herself for the foolish part she had played in their predicament, frustrated by how much could have been avoided had she acted differently. She soon felt the reassuring pressure of Mr. Darcy placing his hand over her own, and looking up to offer him an appreciative smile, began.

"I had never met your cousin before the day of the accident…Lady Matlock was so distraught, I had hardly realized what she was implying, and then she embraced me so fiercely," Elizabeth went on to explain her conversation with Viscount Cressbrook the following day. "I should have carried on and spoken to Lady Matlock just as I had determined to, despite his 'persistent Fitzwilliam traits'. If I had, none of this would have happened."

Mr. Darcy could well imagine how forcefully Cressbrook would have expressed himself, no matter how much he swathed his sentiments in good manners. That the man would presume to pressure his Elizabeth into a match of prudence was another issue entirely, but Mr. Darcy begrudgingly admitted that the concept was neither illogical nor uncommon, and any ill-will he harbored would be reserved for Cressbrook himself, "In that, I must concur with my cousin James. We Fitzwilliam men are used to having our own way, and considering how acutely the decision affected his mother and brother, I understand your reluctance to forcefully contradict him or act against his wishes – not that he would have let you."

Elizabeth awkwardly began to accept this, not that she could instantly absolve herself of the guilt she felt, but she could acknowledge there was now little sense in holding onto it.

"I had thought to remain at the parsonage as much as possible, perhaps even return to Longbourn under the circumstances, but…well, you were present when Lady Catherine made her 'request', I hope you can understand how with a series of similar events, things quickly got out of hand."

"Then you…that is…you never…" Mr. Darcy faltered, though thankfully Miss Elizabeth understood and was quick to assure him.

"I never had tender feelings for your cousin?" she supplied, "No, I did not. Nor did he, I greatly suspect. It would have been a testament to prudent matches."

It may not have been the most appropriate time for humor, but they both chuckled lightly nonetheless, glad to lighten the tone of their conversation.

"I confess I did not expect that I should ever have any solid hopes for a more affectionate match."

"And now?" Mr. Darcy smiled puckishly.

Elizabeth turned to him with mock ire as she replied, "I would not think you in need of asking to know the answer to that question, but I must say," she continued softly, "they are much better indeed."

They shared a smiled at this, and Mr. Darcy raised her hand to smooth a gentle kiss across it. He then fixed upon her a gaze full of promise for words soon to come, but at a time when they could be tied to nothing but their own pleasant remembrance.
"Come, my dear Elizabeth, let us return to the house," Mr. Darcy said at last, for in truth he had little time to return to Netherfield without immediately turning back to return to Longbourn for dinner.

The engagement dinner at Longbourn that evening was the first of many such celebratory gatherings Mrs. Bennet planned to host – hopefully for two of her daughters, and she did not hesitate to openly say so. The more intimate setting of only the Bennet family and their daughters' suitors did give the gentlemen a pleasant – if rather boisterous – idea of their future felicity.

Mr. Bingley could not be more pleased to be welcomed to the Bennets' table once again. He allowed himself the liberty of occasionally caressing Miss Bennet's hand beneath the table, as he had often wished to do in the fall. In this, he was again thankful to have been so advantageously reunited with his angelic lady, and to have further secured that soon – after what he hoped to be a short engagement – never again should they be parted.

Mr. Darcy, having not the happy freedoms reserved for the affianced, exerted himself to partake in the general conversation about the table. He was pleased to find Mr. Bennet a rather well-informed man, who while limited in the areas he cared to explore, did share his fondness for the written word. That is not to say, however, that his primary focus, or at least those opinions which he sought most frequently, were Miss Elizabeth's.

The remainder of the evening passed pleasantly over coffee and tea in the drawing room. The mistress of the house was eager to extend the evening as long as possible, and her guests were quite happy to oblige. Once the party had lingered over coffee, cake, and lively conversation, Mrs. Bennet suggested that Miss Elizabeth entertain the party at the pianoforte. Miss Lydia was about to insist that her sister play something lively, for even if their party was short of gentlemen, they should be very merry with a dance; she was quickly hushed by Mrs. Bennet as Mr. Darcy approached the instrument.

"Do you mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me? I may not have had much occasion to practice these last months, but my courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me," Miss Elizabeth said humorously.

"No, indeed," the gentleman replied in kind, "I should think you know with me well enough to recognize that I intend no such thing, and I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long enough to know that you find great enjoyment in occasionally professing opinions which in fact are not your own."

"It would seem you have schooled yourself not to believe a word I say. I wonder at my luck in having an acquaintance so able to discern my real character, and all that you now know to my disadvantage. The prospect must be terrifying."

"I am not afraid of you," he said smilingly, leaning closer as he added, "quite the opposite, I assure you."

As though to prove his point, Mr. Darcy then asked if he might turn the pages for her, and the pair spent the next half hour enjoying the close proximity of each other's company.

Anxious though he may have been to propose – in fact the idea of whisking her off to Pemberley, with a necessary detour to Gretna Green, had developed a certain appeal – Mr. Darcy did appreciate that his Elizabeth deserved to be courted with affection, and Netherfield's proximity along with Mr. Bingley's frequent calls did much to enable him.

A niggling thought would occasionally surface that if his visit to Kent had not gotten off to such a tragic start, he might have even proposed to her there, perhaps out in the groves where she so enjoyed walking – though with his luck, he would likely have found himself stuck with no alternative but the parlor at the parsonage. In either case, they could now be planning their own wedding alongside Bingley and Miss Bennet. Nevertheless, he would court her properly, and so it was that Elizabeth's ardent suitor was frequently present at Longbourn, bearing words and small tokens that spoke of his attachment.

Mrs. Bennet was perfectly content to send her two eldest daughters out with their suitors, that one might act as an adequate chaperone for the other. The most popular activity for the young couples was to spend their time out of doors, though whether this was to appreciate the fine summer weather or to escape the cacophonous demands one proud matron can make, was wisely left unsaid.

That Mr. Darcy and Miss Elizabeth were far more enthusiastic walkers than Mr. Bingley and Miss Bennet was also left unsaid, for there was little advantage to Mrs. Bennet knowing that within half an hour of departing the house, the latter couple would find a shady place to sit and converse until the others returned.

It was on one such occasion that Miss Elizabeth suggested Mr. Darcy might enjoy a fair prospect of Netherfield from a rise on the far side of Longbourn's borders. They came to the creek that separated Longbourn from the adjoining property, just as Elizabeth had described, though fortunately a footpath to cross it had been fashioned out of smooth stones.

Being a gentlewoman of independent spirit, Miss Elizabeth laughed gaily and began to hop gracefully from one stone to the next. She misstepped on the third stone and nearly lost her footing, though whether this was due to her mirthful antics, or having paid more attention to the movements of Mr. Darcy's person than her own, she preferred not to clarify.

Thankfully, Mr. Darcy reached out as soon as she began to sway, thus being able to steady her before a more embarrassing predicament could befall her.

"It is a bit slippery here, Miss Elizabeth. Do take my hand." Mr. Darcy planted his feet firmly that he might support her next step.

"I thank you, sir. Though I assure you I have crossed this creek many a time since my youth, and can do so again without incident," she replied teasingly, gingerly wrapping her fingers around his as she hopped to the next stone.

Mr. Darcy answered with a devastating smile, always pleased by her lightness of spirit, "I would not doubt it for a moment, though I should like to play my role nonetheless."

He then took a rather larger leap than necessary, his intent to skip a stone that he might help Miss Elizabeth across to the next. It could not be helped that a rather inconvenient bit of undergrowth compromised his landing, and though he made a reasonably graceful recovery – with a boot firmly planted below the waterline of the creek – he would have come quite close to falling into the water if Elizabeth had not grasped his sleeve.

"I thank you again for your gallantry, Mr. Darcy, but I think in this particular case I may be better off on my own," Elizabeth giggled. She was quite fortunate that her now quasi-aquatic suitor was too much the gentleman to splash a lady, though as a few water droplets happened to land at her feet, she could not but retaliate in kind, except that she felt no similar compunction against splashing a gentleman.

It was then rather unfortunate that the couple paid so much more attention to their flirtation than to their steps, for in the next moment, though neither would be able to say who lost their footing first, they began a series of awkward bends and fumbling sways that resulted in the pair tumbling into the creek, each quite taking the other down with them.

They both came up sputtering, and once the shock of their descent had worn off, they both gave way to mirth. Mr. Darcy did have the wherewithal to attend to Miss Elizabeth despite his continued chuckles. After assuring himself that she had not been injured, he assisted her out of the creek, being solicitous that she not muddy her attire on the bank.

"At least the weather is quite warm today," Mr. Darcy reasoned as they ascended to solid ground, "and neither of us is completely soaked through. With any luck, we can return to Bingley and your sister with none being the wiser."

"That is easy for you to say, sir."

Not expecting the sharpness of her speech, Mr. Darcy glanced up from the task of straightening his moist cravat, and gave her a curious look as he took in her charmingly perturbed expression.

"You may be able to run a hand through your hair or simply don your hat and consider it well enough; I on the other hand, am left with a bit more to repair."

Mr. Darcy then took in the loosened and tangled tresses that dripped and curled around her face, a few heavy strands cascading around shoulders and down her back. He reached to assist as she tried to brush a stubborn curl from her forehead and began to chuckle – hard – until he was laughing out loud, eventually cracking her stern expression as she succumbed to mirth herself.

"Forgive me, Elizabeth, you make a strong point," Mr. Darcy replied once they had finally recovered, "it was ungentlemanly of me to not offer my assistance straight away, though I confess without your explicit instruction, I would not know how to begin."

"No, I do not imagine you would," Miss Elizabeth smiled. Struck by the sudden image of the illustrious Mr. Darcy of Pemberley fussing over arranging his sister's hair, she could not quite contain her giggles, gaining again a look of curious inquiry from the gentleman.

"Oh, never mind," she explained with a laugh, "let me see what pins I can rescue from my hair, and you can assist by collecting them and handing them back as I use them."

Elizabeth's mind then conjured another image of Mr. Darcy, this time gently working his fingers through her thick tresses as he combed them. The tenderly domestic image was quite endearing, such that this time, she was not given to mirth at all.

Chapter 21

Posted on 2009-12-03

The days continued to pass as Mr. Darcy's focus remained on his current plans in Hertfordshire, with little room for anything else. It cannot be said, however, that while Mr. Darcy conducted the happy business of courting and securing Miss Elizabeth's affections, his cousin was doing anything less than the same.

Colonel Fitzwilliam was not permitted a great number of calls on Miss Jacoby before a frank discussion of his intentions was required by her father. Fitzwilliam sincerely assured Mr. Jacoby that he hoped for nothing less than the privilege of marrying his daughter, and he only hesitated out of desire to give Miss Eleanor a proper courtship before securing his own happiness. Being privy to his daughter's opinion of the matter, this response was enough to satisfy him, and the discussion moved further to Colonel Fitzwilliam's immediate plans.

The Colonel was due to meet with his superiors in London to resign his commission, not to mention the welcome at Rosings which had mutually worn thin. It was arranged that the entire Fitzwilliam party would depart within the week, with no immediate plans of returning to Rosings Park.

He respectfully expressed a hope that the Jacobys would consider an upcoming trip to London as well, for while he would certainly not wish to cause inconvenience, nor would he be able to return to Kent for several weeks, and only as a guest at the local inn. Lady Matlock had already suggested that Miss Jacoby and one of her sisters would make excellent company for herself and Georgiana at Matlock House in town, and Colonel Fitzwilliam relayed that a letter of invitation would quickly be issued were the family not inclined to travel. He adamantly assured Mr. Jacoby, however, that whatever his decision, a suitable arrangement would be made for his calls on Miss Jacoby to continue.

Well aware of the potential advantages to his daughter's happiness, and desirous of playing a more active role as guardian than he could from afar, Mr. Jacoby soon came to the opinion that perhaps they should avail themselves of the many delights and entertainments of town. He thanked Colonel Fitzwilliam for his consideration, but informed him that the invitation to his daughters would not be necessary, as the entire family would travel to London within a fortnight. Were Mr. Jacoby to presume that this action would bring the Colonel's courtship of his daughter to its natural conclusion in quite timely a manner, he could not have been nearer to the truth.

Though Mr. Darcy frequently arrived at Longbourn by horseback, that is not to say he had left his skill at the seat of a curricle behind in Kent. As a matter of fact, he looked quite fondly on those occasions that he had driven Miss Elizabeth about, and were it not for the impetus of Mr. Bingley joining him, he would have been quick to repeat the experience. However this particular morning was different, Mr. Darcy explained to his friend. He would be driving to Longbourn momentarily, and he believed Mr. Bingley to be perfectly capable of fending for himself with regards to his own transportation.

So it was that half an hour later, a gleaming curricle came up the lane, passing the garden where a certain young lady sat enjoying a book in the morning sun. If that young lady were to have smiled rather exuberantly at the gentleman, or he were to have responded with a beaming grin of his own before tipping his hat to her, none were present to witness this evidence of their attachment.

Given the fortunate occurrence of finding the lady he sought already out of doors, Mr. Darcy entered the drive, reining in his horses directly beside Miss Elizabeth as she approached the conveyance.

"Miss Elizabeth, I need to ask something of you," Mr. Darcy said strongly, offering his hand to assist her into the curricle.

Miss Elizabeth smiled brightly, though hesitated from accepting the offered hand. She fought back a smirk as a throat was cleared behind her. It was then that Mr. Darcy looked past the lady of his affections to see her father observing them from the door of the house.

Mr. Darcy wordlessly stepped down from his conveyance, displaying as much embarrassment as so reticent a gentleman is capable of for having committed such a faux pas. "That is…Mr. Bennet, sir," he bowed stiffly in belated greeting, "if you might permit me to escort your daughter on a drive through the neighboring countryside."

"Certainly, sir. You must be anxious to enjoy the fine weather we are having, and I may as well allow my Lizzy to partake of the exercise," Mr. Bennet acquiesced with much amusement. He may have been a man unable to restrain himself from exploiting the humorous follies he found in others, but he was also an intuitive man who quickly discerned the likely motive behind Mr. Darcy's appearance and demeanor. His suspicions were only further confirmed by the distracted manner in which the young gentleman offered his thanks.

With his back turned to the house, Mr. Darcy handed Elizabeth into the curricle, a small smile playing about his lips, which only grew when her eyes met his and she smiled in return. In but a moment, Mr. Darcy had raised himself onto the seat beside her, and after a small wave from the lady towards her father, the pair were underway.

For some time they drove on in silence, exchanging only the sparest glances and smiles attributed to all that was hoped for but had yet to be spoken of between them. It truly was a beautiful day, the sun already offering a pleasant warmth, broken only by the gentle breeze that rustled the trees and fanned the blossoming fields in gentle waves. At last Mr. Darcy could refrain from action no longer, and with a fluid motion of the reins he brought the horses to a stop and turned to the lady beside him.

"Miss Elizabeth, you must know how dear you are to me," he began intently, such that she alone appreciated the peaceful clearing where he had stopped, "and such you have been these many months. I hesitated to speak of it for so long, but now you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."

Elizabeth smiled brilliantly, applying an affectionate pressure to his hand, though he scarcely seemed to notice as his words continued to tumble forth.

"I had resolved to be patient, allow you time to witness my affections, to be courted as you deserve to be courted. I can wait no longer. I love you, Elizabeth, and I beg you to become my wife. Please say you will accept my hand in marriage."

"Yes, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth replied through glistening eyes, "I will be your wife."

Mr. Darcy then expressed himself as a man violently in love can be expected to do; Elizabeth was not unresponsive to the strength of his affections, and was quite happy to find herself in his warm embrace.

"I love you, Elizabeth," he smiled down at his fiancee.

"As I love you, Mr. Darcy," she happily replied.

"Am I to be Mr. Darcy even when you speak of love?" he teased affectionately, then quieted as he softly inquired, "Can I not be Fitzwilliam?"

"I suppose you should be…Fitzwilliam," she replied, her shy smile bearing a hint of excitement as she hesitated to continue, "though I confess you have been William in my innermost thoughts these past weeks, and I should like to address you as such, if you did not mind."

He smiled tenderly at this, and slowly moved ever so slightly closer to her before he softly replied, "I should not like to be anything else."

"I love you, William," she professed anew, though barely over a whisper given his close proximity.

"As I love you," he murmured over her lips.

Epilogue

The news of Mr. Darcy's proposal of marriage to Miss Elizabeth Bennet was received quite happily at Longbourn, just as could be expected. Mr. Darcy was quick to address his plans for Elizabeth's settlement with her father, giving the ladies of the house ample opportunity to rejoice in their felicity. Miss Jane and Miss Elizabeth soon agreed that nothing could please them more than to have a double wedding ceremony, and their fiancés – gentlemen farmers that they were – happily provided the excuse that a wedding date allowing for a brief tour before the harvest at summer's end would be most sensible.

In relating to his wife the oddity of events that took place at Rosings, and his role in orchestrating them, Viscount Cressbrook also instigated a change in his own situation that perhaps he had not intended. As they sat together, holding the first conversation of any substantial depth between them for some time, Viscount and Lady Cressbrook began to realize that though they had come together in an arranged match, they may have written off their marriage too quickly. In this moment, Lady Cressbrook saw her husband in another light, for she had never known her friendly but lackadaisical spouse to invest so deeply in the feelings and concerns of others. Both husband and wife soon recognized that any deficiency of warmth and affection in their marriage was theirs to control. Whether an overwhelming love would bloom in the years to come remained to be seen, but a bond of understanding and mutual compassion had been formed, such that their happiness in marriage was greatly increased, and perhaps Lady Matlock would not be grandmother to only one child for much longer.

It cannot be said that the first meetings between the Hon. Richard Fitzwilliam and the new Mrs. Darcy were completely devoid of awkward feelings, nor that Miss Eleanor Jacoby, soon to be Mrs. Fitzwilliam, did not feel some wariness upon meeting the lady who nearly came to bear the same title. As the years passed, however, and each family settled into their own happiness, welcoming the babes that such felicity often brings, all was forgot. Each new addition to the Darcy, Fitzwilliam and Bingley families was presented proudly, and within a short number of years, the group of cousins were often found playing together at Pemberley or another of the family's estates.

It was on one such occasion, as Mr. Darcy carried his third child, swaddled and sleeping, to a nursemaid to be taken indoors for his nap, that Lord Matlock turned to his nephew's wife and said, "It is still remarkable to me, the change you have wrought in my nephew, though the strong affection between the two of you is equally clear. When would you say you fell in love with him, Mrs. Darcy?"

Elizabeth smiled as she replied, "Inauspicious as the Richard's injury was all those years ago, in this case some good did come of it, for I would have to say, it was while he was sleeping."

Bonus Scenes and Alternate Ending

Posted on 2010-01-16

Mr. Joseph Jr. and an Affinity for Footwear

Thanks to Allison OM and the many others that implored for this scene.

Miss Elizabeth was particularly glad to call at the parsonage, for as efficiently as the maid had attempted to pack her things the morning she was inauspiciously whisked off to Rosings Park, there were in fact a few of her belongings that had been left behind. Not that any of them were of particularly great importance – she would have retrieved them by now if they were – but she had been perusing the letters she had received from Jane, and finding the first to be missing, suspected that it still lay tucked in a drawer in her room at the parsonage.

The maid who answered the door let it be known that Mrs. Collins was in the kitchen gardens with the cook at present – that lady apparently under a great deal of distress due to the manner in which Mr. Collins had over-tended her rows of herbs. The maid offered to fetch her mistress directly, but Miss Elizabeth assured her that such action would not be necessary, she would simply visit her old room and seek out Mrs. Collins for tea once she was finished.

Elizabeth ascended the stairs, paying little mind to the little noises and movements she detected from the upper portion of the household, assuming that the Collins' junior maid must be cleaning above stairs. That her own door was slightly ajar puzzled her at first, but she quickly assumed that the same maid must have been airing her room as well, and that she should not be surprised if the girl returned shortly. Elizabeth took a deep breath as she entered the room; she had not anticipated how welcome a relief the simple country décor would be after so many weeks ensconced in the grandeur of Rosings! She moved to the side table where she had been keeping her letters, to see if indeed the missive from Jane remained there.

Rather more noise than she expected sounded in the room as she slid the wooden drawer open, such that Elizabeth looked over her shoulder, expecting to find that Charlotte or the maid had entered. No one was there, however, so with a shrug of her shoulders she turned back to the contents of the drawer.

She smiled to find that the letter from Jane was indeed there, along with a pleasant missive from her Aunt Gardiner, full of her young cousins' exploits. She was just about to settle herself on the edge of the bed to read them when another muffled sound could be heard, though it was much louder than the first – and definitely originated from her closet. Had one of Charlotte's new kittens gotten itself trapped in the closet? Though that sounded rather more like a giant fumbling bloodhound than a cat…

Suddenly there was a loud bang as a heavy weight crashed into the closet door from within, sending the door flying open, and Miss Elizabeth gasping in shock at the identity of the intruder.

"Mr. Joseph?!"

"Do forgive me, Miss Elizabeth, I did not mean to frighten you," he assured hurriedly, though perhaps not with the degree of abashment that a man found in his position should have felt.

"Can you not explain your reasons for being in my room? And in my closet, no less?" Elizabeth cried incredulously.

"I had been visiting with Mr. Collins you see, I had only meant to…" Mr. Joseph's speech trailed off awkwardly, an occurrence which soon became of little matter, for Elizabeth's gaze had finally turned to his foot – his daintily slippered foot.

"Have you been trying on my shoes?!" Elizabeth cried, even more aghast than before.

"No! I…well, I slipped, and it just sort of…happened," Mr. Joseph at last exhibited some bashfulness over being discovered thus.

"…Elizabeth?" Charlotte's voice rang from the stairwell, followed by the sound of footfalls, indicating her ascent.

"Oh dear lord!" Elizabeth whispered frantically, her eyes darting about the room. She would throw herself in front of a moving carriage before she allowed a compromising situation to force her into matrimony with Mr. Joseph Jr. She searched desperately for a means of disposing of the man and rapidly shoved him into the closet, slamming the door shut and quickly turning her back to it.

Ignoring the muffled protests from within the closet, she then hastened across the room, only slowing her steps as she neared the doorway. "Yes, Charlotte?" she called out with as much serenity as she could manage.

"Are you alright? I thought I heard something falling up here," Mrs. Collins inquired as Elizabeth met her in the hall.

"Oh, that…" Elizabeth replied with feigned nonchalance as she took her friend's arm and steered her back towards the stairs, "forgive me for abusing your house so. The window was frightfully stuck, and took me by surprise when it broke free. Now, tell me all about the parish news that I have yet to hear from Lady Catherine."

How Mr. Joseph might have eventually freed himself from his awkward position, Elizabeth rather preferred not to dwell upon. At the moment she was much more occupied with maintaining Mrs. Collins' distraction and wondering if a suitable replacement for her now irreparably tarnished slippers could be found in the local village.

Colonel Fitzwilliam's Canine

Thanks to Nina H. who pointed out that as Darcy attempted to interrogate Elizabeth and the Viscount wondered if he would next ask Elizabeth if she had seen the Colonel's favorite hound, said hound could have easily been named…Fluffy!

"And did you truly feel comfortable reading all of that time, Miss Bennet?" Miss Darcy asked with some degree of wonder, "I confess I do not know how I would feel to do such a thing aloud."

"Indeed I did," Miss Elizabeth smiled kindly, "Though with as many younger sisters and cousins as I have, one learns many bedside amusements, reading perhaps being one of the least eccentric. Knowing their favorites or reading a grand fictional adventure has helped keep the attention of the most unruly lot, though at least I did not have to worry about that form of dissention from the Colonel."

"But you did read his favorites nonetheless," added Mr. Darcy, leaving the Viscount very glad he had heard that odd remark. Obviously Cressbrook knew Miss Elizabeth had gained her information from his own lips, though if his cousin assumed the information had come from the Colonel, he was not about to reveal evidence to the contrary. Of some concern to more than one member of the party was the slightly accusatory tone of Mr. Darcy's voice, as nonchalant as he attempted to make it.

This particular incident was not enough for Mr. Darcy to have done with the subject; odder questions would often follow about what dishes the Colonel would most likely be anxious to be allowed again, whether he was more likely to want to go fishing or hunting at the first opportunity, and whether or not Elizabeth had seen his favorite hound.

The lady was not unaware of how Mr. Darcy intended these remarks to frighten her, however she would not be intimidated them. She had in fact gained sufficient knowledge to answer most of Darcy's questions – after all she had spent the better part of the last weeks in the bosom of the Fitzwilliam family – but she rather preferred to remain truthful by relying on her wit. She offered light and teasing answers that deflected the question, often back to the questioner himself, and prevaricated enough for her to carry on with some degree of credit. She did feel some guilt for carrying on a conversation that offered support to this deception, but her remorse was overshadowed by the vindictive undertone of his questioning, which left her feeling quite affronted.

Before the conversation could turn to Richard's birthday, whether he was left or right handed and the name of his first horse, the Viscount interrupted and laughingly asked to what all these questions tended. Thankfully his light-hearted tone gave the impression of an innocent and teasing inquiry, thus the subject was dropped. As for Miss Elizabeth, she began to think Mr. Darcy had a penchant for strange and disjointed conversation, and she was more than a little inclined to take exception to his interrogations.

Miss Elizabeth was on her way out soon after this latest incident, and was surprised when Mr. Darcy reappeared and asked for a moment of her time.

"More questions, Mr. Darcy?" As much as she tried to speak civilly, Elizabeth's tone was impertinent at best.

The gentleman smiled wryly in response. "Actually, I just thought you might consider assisting me with something. You seem well acquainted with my cousin's concerns and might be of assistance. Will you join me?"

There was something odd about Mr. Darcy's expression as he offered his arm. She would not refer to it as vindictive, per say, nor suspect Mr. Darcy to be capable of such unscrupulous behavior, but it was something much like it, that much was certain.

"I thought you might accompany me out to the stables, Miss Elizabeth," Mr. Darcy continued as he began to lead her in that direction, "There is a companion of Richard's housed there that I have been visiting, and I do believe he would appreciate the visit from another familiar person."

Miss Elizabeth feared that Mr. Darcy referred to the Colonel's horse, not that she would be unable to recognize him – for she had seen the color and stature of the horse before it had thrown its master – but that she was no horsewoman and the activities which she would be keen to partake within the large animal's vicinity were limited.

Her questions were soon answered, however, when as they came nearer to the stables, a large dog bounded out from around the corner, very eager to greet the gentleman as he approached.

Rather than offer attention the excited canine that came to greet him, however, Mr. Darcy turned a shrewd eye on Miss Elizabeth, not bothering to hide his scrutiny of her reaction. Elizabeth had long realized that it would be common form to receive these subtle incivilities from the gentleman, such that she would know how to act, and feel very little remorse.

With a sweet smile – no difficult feat considering that she was quite fond of dogs, Elizabeth bent to greet the canine and distract his attention from the gentleman who chose to ignore his advances. Scratching behind his ears, she was pleased to note the dog did wear a leather band for a collar, and leaning closer to tousle the sides of his furry neck with both hands, she inclined her head towards the light jingle of his rather convenient identification plaque. "Why, hello…Fluffy," she cooed with a smile, "I hope that have been treating you well here."

Having heard the lady and gentleman's approach, a stable boy ran out to offer his assistance, "Beggin' your pardon, Miss, but he's not a-botherin' you, is he? I could remove him, Miss, if he was."

"No, not at all, I thank you," Miss Elizabeth assured the lad, "he is quite friendly, and is minding his manners quite nicely. If Mr. Darcy does not object, I think we might allow him to join us for a short walk."

With a curt nod to show the lady he understood, the boy excused himself to return to his duties, leaving Mr. Darcy with little choice but to huff petulantly and acquiesce to Miss Elizabeth's suggestion. Miss Elizabeth would one day regret having toyed with Mr. Darcy in such a manner, but considering the perverse gentleman who trudged along beside her, today would not be that day.

Leaning, and its counterpart, Clinging

This is one of many scenes we can presume to have taken place during Elizabeth's stay at Rosings, where while Elizabeth and Darcy may have never considered themselves a couple – whether that be to lack of inclination, being promised elsewhere, or quite possibly both. That is not to say, however, that for all that their debates and challenging interactions continued on much as it had at Netherfield, at times this 'non-couple' certainly behaved as one.

"I comprehend the meaning of the term, Miss Bennet, but certainly you do not mean to suggest such a thing," declared Mr. Darcy.

"Oh but I do," Miss Elizabeth defended passionately, "not that I condone it, I realize it is not the most ladylike of behaviors. I am merely giving you an honest recitation of what I observed – as did half of the ladies in Meryton, I am sure."

"But she is the sister of one of my closest acquaintance," he replied resolutely, "She has been brought up a lady whose conduct should not allow for the invention of such designs nor see them carried out so deviously, and I should hardly like to think myself susceptible to such machinations in any case."

"I am sorry, Mr. Darcy, but it is the truth, like it or not. When you entered the Assembly at Meryton – and most every social function your party attended after that – Miss Bingley was most decidedly clinging."

Miss Elizabeth cast an arch look at Mr. Darcy, as though daring him to continue to disagree with her. He met her eye with an expression indicating that he most certainly dared. By the looks they exchanged in that moment, a challenge of sorts was silently issued between the two.

Elizabeth raised her brow at Mr. Darcy, as though to thoroughly warn him that her point would momentarily be proven. She then reached with her free hand to Mr. Darcy's arm, gripping his sleeve near where her other hand rested in its crook, and with what appeared to be a subtle motion, pulled him decidedly closer. She looked up at him with a twinkle in her eye, awaiting the inevitable.

"Cousin Elizabeth! Please be sure you are not posing a burden to Mr. Darcy," Mr. Collins called from behind the pair, hastening to join them. Elizabeth loosened her grip on Mr. Darcy's arm and gradually moved to walk beside him at a more proper distance.

"I assure you, Mr. Collins, Miss Bennet's presence is not an imposition," Mr. Darcy replied evenly to the man now huffing along beside him.

"Forgive me the intrusion then, sir," Mr. Collins replied obsequiously, "From my particular position, it seemed she was clinging."

"Clinging?" Mr. Darcy inquired, keeping his voice masterfully schooled to hide his surprised reaction.

"Yes..." answered Mr. Collins, his discomfort over having such a conversation reaching its peak with a glistening moisture upon his brow, "I understand, not from experience of course, but from Lady Catherine's most knowledgeable instructions, that it is the practice of certain...young ladies who are particularly...desirous of a gentleman's addresses – having set their cap on him one might say – to cling rather tightly to the gentleman's arm."

Concerned by how his connection as cousin to such a lady would reflect on himself and his fortunate situation under the patronage of Lady Catherine deBourgh, he hastily added, "I am sure that my young cousin could have no such intentions of course. It is certainly due to her lack of experience in society, living in such rural society she is not likely familiar with the practices of ladies in town…. Yes, Mr. Collins' speech just glazed over and faded to black. He may very well still be speaking to this day, but as Darcy and Elizabeth have tuned him out...so shall I.

At this, a rather unladylike giggle was smothered by Elizabeth's gloved hand. Though she could not pretend to understand many things about the woman, she seemed to have carried her point about Miss Bingley's clinginess rather well.

A Very Modern Technique for the Dislodging of Curricles

Along with the happy circumstance of being engaged to Miss Elizabeth Bennet came the privilege of escorting said lady for a drive about the countryside as frequently as Mr. Darcy was inclined. It was on these occasions that the young lovers conversed freely and informally, as the privacy of their situation allowed, getting to know one another all the better. They also became better acquainted with some of the lesser traveled lanes that surrounded Longbourn and Meryton.

Miss Elizabeth had directed Mr. Darcy down just such a lane, with a promise that approaching Oakham Mount from the glade on its far side was a prospect worthy of the effort. When a wheel of the curricle lodged itself into a particularly deep rut, however, the benefit of the drive was called into question.

"Easy there!" Darcy cried out to his team of horses, reaching to steady Miss Elizabeth as the curricle lurched to an abrupt halt. "Forgive me, Elizabeth, let me see if I can get us on the road again."

Mr. Darcy hopped down with a flourish and saw that the wheel was indeed quite thoroughly lodged. A firm shove did nothing to unsettle it, and he was hesitant to push any harder with Miss Elizabeth still perched upon the high seat.

"I fear I must hand you down before I attempt to loosen the wheel, Elizabeth."

With a smile, she assured him that it was no inconvenience to her, she was only sorry about the trouble their predicament would cost him, and allowed Mr. Darcy to lift her down from the seat. Glancing over his shoulder into the nearby field, she opened her mouth to speak, but promptly closed it as Mr. Darcy began to relay his instructions.

"Now," Mr. Darcy said, removing his coat and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, "Would you feel comfortable holding the horses while I push? You need not get too near or lead them overmuch, they just need a little encouragement to assist me. Once the curricle is free, and I will come around immediately to rein them in."

Elizabeth did her best to maintain a neutral expression as he relayed his instructions; he was conducting himself with the utmost courtesy after all, most likely for having overheard her comment at Netherfield all those months ago that she was not a great horsewoman.

Mr. Darcy saw that she was positioned safely beside the pair of grays, her fingers holding the reins of one in a loose grasp. As Mr. Darcy gauged his position and prepared himself for the effort – quite fastidiously she might add – she turned as the horse nuzzled her and gently stroked his velvety nose. A glance towards her fiancé showed no further movement, and she feared he was waiting for her to indicate she was ready before he tried again.

"Alright…push!" she called out.

"I did," a sheepish Mr. Darcy replied, hoping the labored pattern of his breathing was not evident in his voice.

"Would you allow me to offer a little more assistance now, sir?" she queried as innocently as she could manage through her impish expression.

Mr. Darcy agreed with aplomb, not at all certain what her idea of assistance would entail, but not averse to finding out. It was with a great deal of shock, then, that he watched her turn around and march into the fallowed field beside the road. Her target was soon clear, however, as she approached the farmer whose horse and plow had been working the field, and after a few moments conversation, the horse was unhitched and the small party approached the road.

"Mr. Darcy, sir," Miss Elizabeth greeted as soon as she had come near, "Mr. Granger here has been so kind as to offer us his assistance."

"I thank you, sir," Mr. Darcy nodded formally.

As the man seemed to be well acquainted with Miss Elizabeth, and not at all perturbed by the lady seeking assistance rather than himself, Mr. Darcy attempted to maintain an equally unperturbed reaction. He did, however, immediately step forward to coordinate how the added strength of Mr. Granger and his large draft horse would assist in dislodging the curricle.

Thankfully the curricle was freed within a few minutes, and with no more trouble than a little mud and sweat taking their toll on the two men. Mr. Darcy was quick to extend his appreciation to Mr. Granger and reimburse him for his trouble, after which Elizabeth assured the man that her father would be glad to hear of his kindness.

Once they were settled and on the road again, Mr. Darcy turned to Miss Elizabeth with an inquiry that had been building in his mind.

"Elizabeth, how did you get to be so knowledgeable about curricles, much less about this area out of walking distance from Longbourn."

"Did I not mention, sir, that my father was equally fond of a smart curricle in his day?"

"Is that so?" Mr. Darcy replied, "I am surprised, then, that I have not yet seen it."

"He gave it up some time ago – youthful extravagance he called it."

"Sensible enough, I suppose, though I am sorry to hear it."

"It is alright, sir. I think my father happily chose his books over more reckless pursuits, and not before he had ample opportunity to cavort his daughter about the country-side," Elizabeth said as she went on to explain how frequently her father took her out for a drive when she was a child. It would seem that in his day, Mr. Bennet had been quite the handsome young gentleman often driving out with a smart set of bays – after all, there had to have been something about him to turn Mrs. Bennet's head and draw her attention away from the officers. Alas he eventually matured, and the expense of such a fine vehicle and horses could only stand for so long once the hope of an heir had continued to diminish. When Elizabeth was ten years of age and the last pair of horses aged beyond their prime, Mr. Bennet could not bring himself to replace them. Now he teased that he would require a custom low-seated phaeton in the style of George IV to tempt him back into the activity.

Tinfoil

Though Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were not welcomed at Rosings Park immediately following their marriage – for Lady Catherine had been most seriously displeased by the event – there would in later years come a time when Lady Catherine no longer ruled the manor, and cousin Anne would be desirous of reuniting with her extended family. For many of those who assembled, these reunions in Kent were not looked upon as favorably as those at Pemberley, the close proximity to Mr. Collins being a considerable factor to such opinions. However one happy circumstance did arrive, that being Elizabeth's reunion with her childhood friend Charlotte.

Mr. and Mrs. Collins were not so abundantly blessed with children as the Darcys were. Charlotte had bourn two girls in their five years of marriage, both by unusually difficult confinements, and this most recent – whom Charlotte hoped would be delivered post haste and Mr. Collins hoped would be the future heir to Longbourn, proved equally troublesome. So it was that Elizabeth came to call on Charlotte, and as had occurred on several other mornings, made herself comfortable knitting baby items in the drawing room while Charlotte availed herself of some much needed rest above stairs.

This particular morning, Mrs. Darcy was soon interrupted by the sound of a visitor gaining entrance to the house. Not that a guest in itself was an unusual circumstance, but the identity of this guest in particular was another matter, for it was none other than Mr. Joseph Jr.

Mrs. Darcy had come across him from time to time in the years that had passed since her first visit to Kent. As much as she would not have minded the circumstance, it would have been unreasonable to expect that she would never once lay eyes upon him again after the unfortunate incident involving her shoes and a shelved closet. It was of some consolation that he conducted himself respectfully – that is to say he lacked all of the ridiculous pontifications Elizabeth had endured from her cousin on her first visit to Mr. Collins' home – but it would occasionally shine through that not all of Mr. Joseph's admiration had been wiped away when she became Mrs. Darcy. Yet he did continue on as a close friend of Mr. Collins who visited quite regularly, and she saw it as only proper to respond to his polite civility in kind.

Nonetheless, it was Mr. Joseph Jr. who had come to call this morning, and soon entered the parlor, inquiring after Mr. Collins.

"I am sorry, sir," Mrs. Darcy replied, "each of our hosts is otherwise occupied, you find only myself at leisure this morning."

"Oh…" Mr. Joseph paused awkwardly, looking away and raising his chin in feeble attempt hide his watering eyes as he collected himself. This was soon broken, however, by a wail that only needed greater amplification to compete with Mrs. Bennet. "I thought that she could love me," he began to explain, "having now improved my situation in life, expanding my own practice and preparing to take over my father's. But it seems she simply will not have me."

As much as she may have been perfectly understanding of this other young lady's opinion, this did not make Elizabeth any less sympathetic to Mr. Joseph's unhappy position, and from this frame of mind she was surprised to hear her own voice offer kindly, "There, there. Let us go and see if Mrs. Collins has some old slippers in the guest room that you might try on."

It was with most unfortunate timing, then, that Mr. Darcy arrived not long after to collect his wife and came upon a rather interesting scene. He would not lose his temper – he would not, he reminded himself with clenched fists – not here in a parson's home. This control of his temper did not imply, however, that he could not remove himself and his wife from that man with the barest civility and utmost haste. Once they had gained a safe distance from the house, Mr. Darcy was quick to inquire as to what on earth had possessed Elizabeth to willingly place herself in such a position.

"I would not call it willingly," Elizabeth deadpanned, " Were I never to find myself in such a position again, I would not be unhappy."

"Then why on earth was he wearing a woman's shoe? And believing it to be yours, no less? Is this the sort of token…?"

"Fitzwilliam, the man is delusional! He thinks he invented horse stirrups ! He arrived unannounced, and in short order broke out into tears over a Miss Matilda who precipitously left the area, he claims with his heart in tow."

"Miss Matilda…" here Mr. Darcy began to chuckle, "do you mean to say he pines the loss of Miss Matilda Collins?"

"Oh!" Elizabeth's hand flew to her mouth as a gasping chuckle escaped, "I had not made the connection, but yes, Charlotte did mention that their cousin left just before we arrived, and indeed she was referred to as 'cousin Matilda'."

"Well," Mr. Darcy said with a great deal better humor than he had started the conversation with, "I daresay he shall soon get over it, and if he still has not managed it within a twelve-month, perhaps Mr. Collins shall take him to a review at the end of it."

This is handling it?

We pick up our story on the very first day of Elizabeth's inauspicious commission to Rosings Park, when after another fruitless conversation with Viscount Cressbrook, she ventured into the library and came across Mr. Darcy there. Perhaps with a little more freedom of impertinence she might have thought better of dismissing the opportunity to solicit Mr. Darcy's assistance.

"My cousin may not be an avid reader," Mr. Darcy had said, "but it would be no trouble for me to locate a few titles he would enjoy."

"I thank you for the offer," Elizabeth replied as she plucked a book from the shelf, "I have found the book I was seeking."

Miss Elizabeth turned away primly at this and moved to exit the library. She had nearly reached the door when suddenly she turned back, considering Mr. Darcy for a moment before stepping closer to him with a conflicting degree of hesitance and desperation.

"Sir, what I am about to say is most awkward, and perhaps unbelievable as well, but desperate times call for desperate measures," she paused for a moment and stated firmly, "Mr. Darcy, I need your help."

Mr. Darcy received her address with an air of indifference as he replied, "A gentleman is always prepared to oblige a lady in such cases as these, Miss Bennet. How may I be of assistance?"

Not at all impressed by Mr. Darcy's manner – for he clearly would not trouble himself to make this any easier, Elizabeth continued on none the less. "Forgive me the impertinence, sir, but there is a misconception that has arisen between Lady Matlock and myself that must be addressed. I realize that by our brief acquaintance, you and I may not have become the best of friends, and you may consider that I should be directing this concern elsewhere, but I have spoken to the Viscount already, and I fear that he is not so strongly determined to reveal the truth as I."

His interest thoroughly peaked, Mr. Darcy bid Miss Elizabeth to continue.

She then went on to relate the whole of it in detail to Mr. Darcy – Lady Matlock's mistaken impression and the Viscount's reaction to it, her remorse that she had not corrected the Lady at once, and her growing apprehension over the Viscount's scheme.

Mr. Darcy was quite irritated that Cressbrook would take it upon himself match Miss Elizabeth with another gentleman – that these feelings were of a jealous nature and reflective of his own interest, he was not yet prepared to admit. He gave Miss Elizabeth a perfunctory response that she was not to blame, as Cressbrook had been the one to draw the matter out; and then with a twinkle in his eyes, added, "Would you like to have some fun with him?"

"'Have some fun with him'?" Elizabeth replied incredulously.

"Forgive me, without some form of explanation my suggestion must seem unfounded. You see, this is not the first time my eldest cousin has worked his particularly ill-suited brand of orchestration upon the lives of others. Richard and I have long been desirous of showing him the negative effects experienced by the recipients of his behavior."

"A dose of his own medicine, then?" Elizabeth asked intriguedly, a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

"Precisely," Mr. Darcy grinned.

Both agreed that while Viscount Cressbrook had perhaps 'asked for it', Lady Matlock most definitely had not. Mr. Darcy stated that he would seek out his aunt at the earliest opportunity to gently inform her of her mistake. His prior acquaintance with Miss Elizabeth would prove quite useful to his case, as it would seem reasonable for the young lady to prefer taking confidence in a friend and to seek his advice with regards to his relations. If Lady Matlock was already well acquainted with her eldest son's previous transgressions, and also the other gentlemen's opinions of them, we will allow that she was perhaps not so against Mr. Darcy's suggested solution as might have been expected.

Miss Elizabeth awoke quite early the following morning, with much less consternation over her situation than she had the day before. Mr. Darcy had managed to inform her after dinner that he had taken tea with his aunt Matlock that afternoon, and Elizabeth could rest assured an understanding of the mistake had been reached peaceably. She found herself to be of a much different mindset than she would have been under other circumstances as she headed downstairs, hoping to gather a brief repast on her way out for a walk. Upon entering the breakfast room, however, she discovered it to be occupied by Viscount Cressbrook and Mr. Darcy. The gentlemen folded their newspapers and rose to greet her, and while the Viscount was as amiable as ever when he bid her good morning, the look in Mr. Darcy's eyes before he spoke was clearly indicative of what was to come.

"Miss Elizabeth, I trust you are well this morning," he greeted warmly.

"I am, sir, thank you. And yourself?"

"Very well, indeed," Mr. Darcy replied. He assisted Miss Elizabeth into her seat, inquiring as to what she might like to eat and beckoning for the nearby servant to fill her requests.

"Will you be walking out this morning?" Mr. Darcy inquired.

"That was my intention sir," Elizabeth replied.

"Well then, my dear Miss Bennet," Mr. Darcy said with a kinder smile than Elizabeth had ever seen from him, "allow me to escort you."

Without further ceremony, their meals were completed, and Mr. Darcy escorted Miss Elizabeth out to enjoy the fresh air.

"Well sir, that was certainly interesting," Elizabeth commented once they had gained a small distance from the house.

"You did not find my actions overly demonstrative, I hope?" Mr. Darcy inquired sincerely.

"I would not be the best judge," Miss Elizabeth replied with a bit of embarrassment, "Your cousin must be far more familiar with how you might behave amongst your closest acquaintances."

Mr. Darcy seemed satisfied enough by her response, or so Elizabeth assumed as he turned his attention to the surrounding countryside and walked on in silence. Never having sought the gentleman's good opinion, it did not trouble Elizabeth to avoid conversation, and she was content to continue on for some minutes in much the same fashion as he before troubling herself to speak.

"Well, now that we have ventured far enough to elude the casual observer," she said archly, "I will not hold you to escort me for the remainder of my walk about the groves."

"On the contrary, Miss Elizabeth, I am quite fond of the exercise myself, and have every intention of accompanying you."

"Very well, then," Elizabeth accepted amiably.

"And I suppose you will say that we must have some conversation."

Elizabeth smiled, surprised by his reference to her own turn of phrase at the Netherfield Ball the previous autumn. "I would not object to it, sir."

"No, it would not be reflective of your character if you were to object, and as to my own presupposed objections, I shall put them aside."

Though he uttered them in a most sincere manner, Elizabeth could only be pleased to hear such conversational words from Mr. Darcy. She wondered if perhaps in his own way, Mr. Darcy had inherited some of the Fitzwilliam amiability after all.

As the day carried on, and into those that followed, many similar scenes were played out for the Viscount's benefit, though Mr. Darcy was careful not to take the charade too far. After all, he was not normally the most demonstrative of gentleman, and heaven forbid his actions excite the notice of Lady Catherine. He put a fair amount of consideration into those actions which would be reasonable for him to take in order to subtly disconcert his cousin. When entering a room, he would frequently seat himself near Miss Elizabeth and did not always take means to disguise his preference for her company in front of the Fitzwilliams. Each of these efforts was anything but troublesome, for the extended exposure to Miss Elizabeth was not taxing to him in the least.

Peacable as the situation may have been for Mr. Darcy, however, the same could not be said for Miss Elizabeth. While she could not say for certain how these efforts were affecting the Viscount's behavior – she had only just met the man less than a week before – his continued hints and suggestions of the match between his brother and herself were only increasing in magnitude, such that Elizabeth could scarcely countenance allowing them to continue unchecked."

Fully prepared to ease the mind of his lady and further ruffle the feathers of his cousin, Mr. Darcy was more than happy to step into action. Whether Viscount Cressbrook was not bothered by his implied interest or perhaps remained oblivious to it, Mr. Darcy had no qualms over taking a more direct approach and could not resist enjoying himself as he did so.

"You have yet to tell me, Cressbrook," Mr. Darcy said with a small smile and a practiced air of nonchalance, "what you think of my fiancée. Lovely girl, is she not?"

"I beg your pardon?" Cressbrook paled.

"Why Miss Elizabeth, of course," Darcy smiled again, "as much as I respect our cousin, surely you do not think I refer to Anne."

James Fitzwilliam had never been the best student of keeping his facial expression inscrutable, such that Mr. Darcy enjoyed the show of emotions playing across his face so much that it was difficult to maintain his own countenance as he waited for his cousin to find his power of speech.

"But I had understood the lady to be unattached?" the Viscount blurted out with an inflection of good humor, though not as evenly as he might have intended.

"It is not official yet," Mr. Darcy assured him, "that is we have made no formal announcement."

The Viscount nearly choked at this, yet Darcy was quite content to watch on from behind his glass, taking a long sip and then promptly leaving the room.

What followed, Mr. Darcy could only describe as a comedy of errors, though intermixed with some of the most pleasant moments of his adult life. With a flourish did Mr. Darcy set out in his curricle, making no secret to his cousin that he intended to come across Miss Elizabeth on her way to the village, and he rather enjoyed the far-fetched and comical entanglements Cressbrook would employ in attempt to detain him. For a time, he rather wondered if Cressbrook would resort to conspiring with Mr. Joseph Jr. in order to accomplish his own means, but thankfully that situation was resolved quite easily. Influential as Lady Catherine might be over the surrounding populace, there was some advantage to possessing the prominence and stature of the Master of Pemberley. It took only the briefest of conversations for Mr. Joseph to be convinced that Mr. Darcy was a gentleman whom he best not deny anything, and the issue was resolved without further question.

By their various exploits of curricle rides, proximate seating and walking out, Miss Elizabeth found that there was much more to Mr. Darcy than she had presumed him to possess over the course of their acquaintance in Hertfordshire. It was not that he said anything of import to improve her opinion of him – in fact many subjects of their conversation did not vary greatly from the books and opinions they had been wont to discuss at Netherfield – but that he conducted himself with an ease of manner he had not allowed in the presence of the Bingleys and the Hursts nor the general populace of Meryton.

Mr. Darcy would ever be a rather formal gentleman, as was allowed by his general character, but Elizabeth found none of the severity she had told herself to expect from him, such that she wondered if she had in fact misjudged him. Particularly when his attentions could only be described as portraying a certain warmth, an attribute which proved constant, regardless of whether or not the Viscount happened to be in their company.

Thankfully the day did finally come that Colonel Fitzwilliam regained consciousness, and considering that no misapprehension regarding the young lady in his letters remained, it was nothing but a happy day for all parties involved. Elizabeth had offered her assistance as she was able, and was perfectly content to fade into the background now that the family had been restored of one of its dearest members. She saw to it that her temporary chambers were put to order and her trunk prepared for its return to the parsonage.

Lady Catherine was quite prompt in ordering a cart to deliver Miss Bennet's trunk to the parsonage, and as the weather was not particularly harsh or rainy, she paid little mind to whether Miss Elizabeth would be transported by the same or avail herself of the short country walk.

Elizabeth was not far from Rosings, however, when Mr. Darcy overcame her in the lane. Accustomed as she had become to these occurrences, she was not troubled by his arrival, she rather assumed that he had set Cressbrook's understanding to rights and would enjoy sharing the tale of it with his co-conspirator.

"I thank you for your assistance, sir," Elizabeth said once they had greeted eachother, "I hope you are satisfied with how your cousin has learned his lesson."

"Oh, indeed," Mr. Darcy smiled a bit distractedly, not nearly as eager to discuss his cousin's folly as she had expected him to be, "though I confess he may never puzzle out that I purposely riled him."

"How do you mean, sir?" Elizabeth queried, attempting to meet his eye.

"Elizabeth, I have a confession to make," he said, turning to face her, "These past weeks we have seamlessly constructed a ruse of attachment, but it has never been merely an affectation for me. I have only but ceased to repress the feelings I could no longer contain. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."

"Oh!" Elizabeth gasped, for she truly had not expected this. A few short weeks ago she would have refused him outright, but the playful gentleman she had cohorted with of late certainly had his attractions, and she would very much like to get to know him better.

Elizabeth smiled shyly up at Mr. Darcy, noticing his rapt attention as his eyes had never strayed from hers, and wondered how much of her thoughts and feelings had been evident in her face.

"I will not press you to return the sentiment, Elizabeth," he smiled kindly, "I know my actions of the last weeks have given you a mistaken impression. Disguise of every sort is my abhorrence, and I must allow its stigma to run its course."

For a moment Elizabeth worried that her silence had discouraged him. She was struggling to find what she might say before it was too late and the opportunity had been lost, when his face took on a stoic expression and he said formally, "Miss Elizabeth, will you allow me to call on you when you return to Hertfordshire?"

Elizabeth's countenance broke into a broad smile as she replied, "Yes, Mr. Darcy, I should like that very much."

Miss Elizabeth was able to return to Longbourn on the date originally planned, though that she arrived in a private and rather expensive looking coach took more than one Bennet by surprise. A curricle bearing the owner of said coach came from Netherfield the following morning, requesting a private audience with Mr. Bennet, which his second eldest daughter had been kind enough to prepare him to expect.

Though there were still issues to be resolved between Mr. Darcy and Miss Elizabeth, Mr. Bingley's return to Netherfield and Miss Darcy's arrival soon after did much to resolve them. It was not long before Mr. Darcy took Miss Elizabeth for a drive, and asked her a question not dissimilar from that which he has posed in Kent, but of a much more long-standing nature. He asked that she become his wife and mistress to all that he possessed, a notion to which she happily complied, though she had never laid eyes on his beautiful grounds at Pemberley.