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Autumn in London (cont.)

Friday, we were obliged to dine with Aunt Catherine and her other guests--the Gilfords. Only Georgiana, who understood my stress, really comprehended my aversion to attending. I reasoned with myself that it would appear rather suspicious if my absence was noticed, and I could not risk offending my aunt yet again on the score of good behaviour. It was with such feelings that I submitted myself to be one at the dinner table, seated in a hostile sandwich between Mr. Hamish Oakham of Somersetshire, and Clement Gilford.

I could not understand why Aunt Catherine would have invited Mr. Oakham at all--he had been her hand-chosen suitor for me, but luckily for my broken ankle last summer, I had not been compelled to attend to his fervent hopes. He had engaged himself to another, and left for India to work out some business. To some astonishment, I discovered that the woman he chose, retracted her promise within a fortnight's time--It seemed that after a good day's worth of thinking, she felt she would lose more than she would gain with such a match. Consequently, Mr. Oakham was, what one would coarsely call, "a jilted", albeit a rich, man. With this knowledge, he appeared to me as foolish, backward, and unfortunate a gentleman as ever I thought he was before.

As for Clement Gilford, there was little I could say or do in trying to be civil. He met my politeness with cold monosyllables and feigned good manners towards me. Truly, I felt sorry for him, for I had not been the one to encourage him into his ridiculous schemes. If he willingly allowed for his pride to be wounded--after my fair warning to him--I could not be held responsible. Nevertheless, I was pained that he should feel such injury, for a person so young.

"It has been long since I last saw you, Miss Darcy," commented Mr. Oakham with spinach between his teeth. "I did not think I would be blessed enough as to see you again after so long a separation."

"Yes, luck has an unfortunate knack at things," agreed Colonel Fitzwilliam, who was thankfully sitting across from us. "I dare say, had fortune nothing to do with it, Viola may be very far from this house this very minute."

"Oh, you do understand what I mean," said Mr. Oakham enthusiastically.

Colonel Fitzwilliam's eyes shone in a way I did not entirely like. "Yes--I mean, we could have been under such different circumstances. I might never have been the son of an earl, if fate had not allowed for it, and my cousin could just as easily have been married to an army captain--destiny does such remarkable things."

I coloured at what he said.

"What rubbish you do speak," reproached Aunt Catherine. "I won't allow such speeches at my table. There are many things in my life which I had planned for to happen, which had been destined by my careful thinking, and yet they were shattered by the whims of the obstinate few. If such intrusive beings never existed, fate would run a much happier course for all of us." I knew what my aunt meant was that she was still against Fitz and Elizabeth's match, and had not quite reconciled herself to the idea that Anne was not ever going to be Mrs. Darcy. Someone ought to have prepared her for the fact that instead, she would become Anne Fitzwilliam some day, once the colonel settled down.

"What did you do in India?" Uncle Albert managed to ask Mr. Oakham at the next convenient break in eating. "Is the civilization there very different?"

"Oh, you could not imagine it," Mr. Oakham replied. "I had very little to do, but to observe the running of the schools, the education of the people, passing on the ideals of England, and hopefully convert some of them to a belief in our dear country. There are, some of them, such strange customs as would create chaos in our civil society."

"I sometimes wonder," I declared, unable to stop myself, "What it is that makes us think ourselves superior. Who are we to judge whether we are any better than they? The rules that function well in our society do not necessarily mean that it is to be applied elsewhere, where their traditions are entirely different from ours. Does that make them merit less?"

Mr. Oakham stared stupidly at me. "Well, I..."

"Perhaps you have a point there," spoke Aidan Gilford from one end of the table, "But it should be proof enough that if it works here, weaker countries can certainly benefit from it."

"You are one of many who feel that England is superior to all her neighbours around the world," I said. "I would like to think so too, but are we really? Are we not only contrasting ourselves to others according to our principles, and not by the principles of others? Does that mean that if, for example, France, were to contrast themselves against England, according to the principles of the French, and succeeded in finding itself superior only in accordance with French principles, the English is immediately held inferior?"

"You are comparing France and England, both of which belong in Europe. Mr. Oakham referred to England and India," said Aidan with smile on his face.

"And the main idea works in the same way, regardless of the continent."

Aunt Catherine cleared her throat loudly and rang her fork against her wineglass, calling us to her attention. "Viola," she said, "That is enough. You ought to know that your place as a young lady at this table should not interfere with dinner."

Colonel Fitzwilliam also cleared his throat. "I would beg that your ladyship would let me speak before this very interesting topic is closed. I think what my cousin says is very true. As an army man, I can see what Viola means--our values are not the same as the values of others--Therefore, how can we judge ourselves equitably? It would be impossible--It would be like comparing a chicken to a dog, when you know very well the two animals are completely different. And, I am not alone in this way of thinking, for I can name several of my colleagues--Colonel Brandon, Captain Denny, to name just a few, who would likewise feel the same."

"Thank you," said Aunt Catherine with a stern glance in his direction. The course of the meal was conveniently changed at this point, distracting her from any further comment on the matter.

As we the ladies stood up to leave the dining room, Aidan Gilford stopped to whisper kindly to me,

"I hope this does not interfere with our friendship. It would be a shame if our differences got in the way of our rapport."

Understanding his general good nature, I nodded a little before following the other ladies out of the room.

When the gentlemen came to join us in the drawing room, Aidan immediately directed his way towards me. I made space for him to sit down.

"I wish I could continue that very interesting conversation we had before," he said with a smile.

"You would not wish it, once it was launched," I replied lightly. "Let it be fair warning to you that I have been told before--my opinion, though not entirely well informed, has a tendency to be most stubbornly defended."

"And I, too, consider myself to be obstinate," Aidan said. "I do not allow myself to be so easily defeated with a few words, but, I see that it would never do to expose myself so disgracefully, so I shall stop it at that. What else have others said of you? I am curious to know."

I was pensive. "I think, that would depend on what you wish to hear."

"Well, has anyone told you that you are very philosophical for a young lady of your situation? Perhaps, I am too bold in saying so, but the depth of your knowledge quite astounds me. Your education could not have stimulated so much, had you not a naturally good wit."

I laughed a little. "No--that is too much flattery, Mr. Gilford, and flattery rubs off me as a very unbecoming colour. You may say that I, on occasion, have a good command of my faculties, but never--oh never--tell me that I am knowledgeable, or that I have wit. It is too much."

"And what colour does flattery become on you?" asked Aidan, persisting in the joke.

"Green, a very self-absorbed green."

"I always associated green with envy."

"Oh, that as well."

Aidan leaned back in his chair. "If you have a slip of paper and ink and pen handy with you, I could quickly compose a charade now about the colour green."

I did as he bid, and he began to compose his charade quickly. It was a very clever, hilarious piece, and I at once asked that he would part with it, so that I might add it to a collection of charades which Georgiana kept together.

"That one would never do," Aidan said, shaking his head. "But I promise you that I shall draw up another one, a different one, which you can give to your sister."

We agreed that he would bring me another charade some time at his convenience.

Rubato*

One afternoon, my Aunt Margaret flew into the drawing room as I rehearsed a little song with Georgiana. My sister was just about to begin singing the second phrase when Aunt Margaret, clutching a letter in her hands, entered the room breathlessly, and collapsed into a nearby chair.

"What is it?" I asked in amusement, unused to seeing her in this way. "Do you bring us good or bad tidings?"

"I can hardly believe it," said Aunt Margaret, not attending to what I had said. She was clutching her hand tightly to her chest. "It all seems so very strange, that it should be true, and yet, I do not doubt its sincerity." She handed me the letter to look at, and Georgiana perused it over my shoulder.

As I steadily read the lines, I felt a heat cross over my face, and with a disbelief equal to my aunt's, I gazed at Georgiana, hoping for some understanding. The contents of the letter disclosed that which I had never once thought on--Mrs. Quarrie, Aunt Margaret's childhood governess, and also Captain Denny's beloved aunt, had passed away in her quiet home in Bath. It is with regret that I find myself in communication with your ladyship, in order to inform you of the sudden and unexpected passing of my aunt, Mrs. D. Quarrie, due to health complications of her heart... The letter was communicated through Captain Denny's very own writing.

Georgiana, who had never met Mrs. Quarrie before, but knew of what relation we held with her, was quick to comfort us with her soft embrace. Although I had not been close to Mrs. Quarrie through our short acquaintance, I had liked her very well, and I had always hoped that there was nothing in my conduct which she could find to reproach. I felt numb, as though I were in a trance, not quite awake, but not quite unconscious.

Aunt Margaret broke this mood of reverie. "Mrs. Quarrie's nephew writes that there is something which Mrs. Quarrie wishes to give to me, and that he promised his aunt before her dying, that he would bring it safely in person," said Aunt Margaret, sniffling a little. "I cannot say exactly when he will arrive, but I believe that it should not be long past a fortnight before he comes."

Nancy, whom Georgiana had quietly rung for tea, entered respectfully and I nodded at her to leave the tray at the table. Meanwhile, Aunt Margaret, wiped her nose with her handkerchief.

"I know I must look unrespectable," she said, with a slight smile as she looked at her red, puffy reflection in the mirror, "But you must bear with me--I cannot help but feel saddened over the news. Mrs. Quarrie--Miss Cooper--she was a dear friend as well as governess. Without her patience and sweetness of temper, I am afraid, I would have remained the ignorant, spoiled child that I was at six. Really, when I consider it, Miss Cooper was very much like a sister to me, and I was ever so disappointed when she fell in love and married, and moved away."

"Mrs. Quarrie would have felt gratified by your opinion of her," I said, leaning closely to Aunt Margaret. "Perhaps there is something we could do for her, in her memory? Does she leave behind any other family, besides the captain?"

Aunt Margaret shook her head. "Her nephew, as she always said, was all she had. She was on good terms with her nephew's grandparents, of course, but they are not, I believe, living any more."

"Then Captain Denny is all alone," I said quietly to myself.

The news of Mrs. Quarrie's death got around to Aunt Catherine somehow, who, as usual, gave her proclamation with great self-importance.

"It is all very disagreeable that the woman's life must be cut so short," she said, shaking her head, "But it is no wonder, for she thought to live in Bath. In Bath! Only think, of what inconvenience that must have been, to be perpetually residing with a neighbourhood of illness and sick-ridden people. That is why I never try to go to Bath now, for I sometimes think I would endanger more constitution more than cure it. Well, then, I suppose the nephew is to receive the house and the money? How much is there? Not a great deal, I imagine."

"Sister!" exclaimed Aunt Margaret, "How can you talk of such a thing? Mrs. Quarrie has only just passed away, and you can attempt to speak of inheritances so unfeelingly?"

"Pardon me, Lady Fitzwilliam," said Aunt Catherine, "I was only speaking frankly, and you know I have never been one to 'beat about the bush'. You must realize that it is only practical that one thinks of what is to become of all this."

"What is to become of all this is none of our business," said Uncle Albert. "Now, Catherine, you have had your way long enough, but in this instance, I must say, I not only disagree with you, but I also dislike it that you should try to bring in the talk of inheritance and death all together. It is a disagreeable business."

Aunt Catherine looked enraged. "What is the world coming to?" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up dramatically. "I simply ask whether the nephew will be accounted for, and I am lectured. Who dares to lecture me? I am not to be thus trifled with."

"Regardless of whether Mrs. Quarrie left a legacy to her nephew, which I am sure she did in any case, I have invited the captain to come within a fortnight," said Aunt Margaret with a calmness that even Fitz would have envied. "I wrote a quick note and had it sent by express earlier, and should he be in receipt of it, then he shall soon arrive in London."

"I certainly hope that he is of the genteel class," said Aunt Catherine after a pause.

"I can assure you, if he is Mrs. Quarrie's nephew--and he is--then he is most definitely born a gentleman," said Aunt Margaret.

"If I may please add in a word," interrupted Colonel Fitzwilliam, "I can assure you that Captain Denny is of a good disposition and nature. I have seen him in command, and he was a most respected leader."

Lady Catherine de Bourgh was silent at hearing what my cousin said.

"I shall not care what you do, and whom you invite," she said at last. "But so long as I need not suffer from being in his company, I shall not complain."

I could not help but hide a smile at that thought. Aunt Catherine, not complain? Impossible!

"I am afraid," broke in Aunt Margaret, "that I will have to oblige you to 'suffer' through his company. I have invited Captain Denny to stay under my roof, in order to relieve him of the urgency of finding lodgings in town."

Aunt Catherine was immensely shocked at hearing the news. "What?" she nearly roared. "A soldier under your roof? What will be the effects of all this? You will pollute the entire neighbourhood with his presence?"

"You seem to forget that my son is a soldier also," seethed Aunt Margaret. I had never seen her so upset before. "I will not have my son's noble profession reduced to a common trade, and that means I will not tolerate you doing the same, Lady Catherine. I hope that in the future, you will tend to your words before you express them aloud."

Aunt Catherine, in immense indignation, stood up and held her head high. "I see that my words of prudence and caution are not wanted here. I only thought, that as your sister-in-law, you might do to have a few kind reminders. I have always prided myself on my frankness and wisdom, and they had always been sought for." She sighed dramatically. "I will not force my advice on you, Lady Fitzwilliam."

"Mother, now you have done it," groaned Colonel Fitzwilliam as Aunt Catherine left in a cloud of resentment. "Suppose she will not reconcile with us?"

Likewise, I looked anxiously at Uncle Albert, hoping he might persuade either his sister or his wife into some form of truce, but he merely shook his head.

"No, no, no," he said, "I will not involve myself in this. The ladies will have to do it themselves."

Perhaps, if he had known what troubles his neglect cast on to his son's mind, Uncle Albert would have done more to resolve the dispute, but as yet, both of my aunts seemed determined to despise each other.

The captain arrived three days later, but there were no embarrassing situations to accompany it, for I was conveniently taken out of the house in order to pay a visit to Aunt Catherine, was still upset over being snubbed. When I returned, Georgiana told me that Captain Denny had already come, that he had given the parcel to Aunt Margaret, paid his greetings to both my aunt and uncle, and left hastily. At the news, my face must have looked surprised and crestfallen, for Georgiana quickly added that although he had declined the invitation to stay with us (he had found lodgings in Cheapside), our uncle and aunt had been successful in pressing him to dine with us the following day.

The day that Captain Denny was appointed to dine with us, he arrived promptly on time, dressed immaculately in gentlemen's clothes of mourning colours. As soon as he entered the room, our eyes met, and I felt a thrill run through me.

"I am glad that you could come," said Aunt Margaret benevolently greeting him. "I always loved and respected your aunt greatly, even when she was no longer my governess."

"You are too generous," he said with a slight bow.

Uncle Albert greeted him also, and then introduced him to Georgiana, my sister whom he had not yet met, and to our other guest, Aidan.

"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance," said Aidan cheerfully. "I think we met before in Bath, but never had the chance to get to know each other."

After a few moments' conversation, we all assembled to the dining room, Aidan taking me, and Captain Denny, obliged to take Georgiana. I noted rather wistfully that I wished it had been me who he had by his side, and wondered whether, as he conversed with my sister, he tried to trace a resemblance between us.

"You should have stayed with us instead," said Uncle Albert, addressing the captain. "We would have been more pleased to have you here with us, than to find lodgings in Cheapside."

Captain Denny properly thanked him for his attentions, but he explained that his rooms were comfortable and provided ample space for a single man.

"I dare say, though, that it must have been difficult seeking out rooms on such short notice," said Uncle Albert. "Have you any connections here in London?"

"Fortunately, I have a friend in Colonel Fitzwilliam," Captain Denny replied, casting a smile at my cousin, "And I have been able to seek out a former colleague. He was the one who offered to rent me his rooms."

"Would he happen to be Chamberlayne?" asked Colonel Fitzwilliam, to which Captain Denny replied in the affirmative, and asked how my cousin knew.

"I spoke with him, not too long ago," answered Colonel Fitzwilliam. "He works for a milliner. My cousin, Miss Darcy, and I were just picking up a parcel for my mother when we discovered that it was him."

"Yes, Chamberlayne and I have not been in communication for a long time, but it was fortunate that he managed to remember me," agreed Captain Denny. "I have so little connections here that it is fortunate to be able to reacquaint oneself with a fellow comrade."

"I hope your leave will permit you to stay long enough to make yourself new acquaintances as well," said Aunt Margaret. "A promising young gentleman must not deprive himself of company. In that sense, I hope you will take my son and Mr. Gilford's example and move about London with them. Their circles will be more than delighted to welcome you."

Captain Denny thanked her.

"I would be more than happy to give you any aid which is in my power to give," said Aidan, rising to the occasion. "I know how it is in London."

My aunt brought up the subject of the parcel, the watercolour which Captain Denny had so kindly brought to London from Bath, and expressed her gratitude towards the pain he took to have it delivered personally.

"It was my aunt's wishes," Captain Denny replied simply. "I could not do more."

Both Georgiana and I were pledged to perform something at the conclusion of the meal and we chose the song which we had been practising.

"Now," said Aidan, clapping enthusiastically at the end, "Will you grace us with another song?"

Georgiana was too shy to, and I called on Aidan to sing.

"But I shall need a partner," he said with a grin. "Someone who will kindly accompany me on the pianoforte. Will you, Miss Darcy?"

"Of course I will," I answered, slightly amused by the affectation which he displayed.

Aidan's voice was quite good though he claimed that he had never had formal training in music. "There was a pianoforte in the home, but it was only played by my mother, when she was seized with the fancy to practise," he jested. "Now," he added, leading my to the sofas, "I believe there is something owing, which I have not yet had the pleasure to address earlier."

"Something owing?" I repeated, glancing over at my cousin, who had engaged my uncle and the captain in conversation.

"Yes, the charade, which you commissioned me to write for your sister's collection." Aidan produced a piece of paper from his jacket pocket and handed it to me.

"A Charade (Answer in one word with two syllables)."

I smiled at him and accordingly put it away. After all, I had not the heart to tackle it for the time being. I wished, instead, to be on the opposite side of the room, listening to what Captain Denny was saying, and to be conversing with him as freely as we had done in Bath.

Aunt Margaret began to hand out coffee, tea, and biscuits, which we devoured eagerly.

"I say--" My uncle's voice was drifting over to us "--that Napoleon ought to be shipped away. I've heard rumours that they are thinking of sending him to a remote island in the Mediterranean if they are ever successful in capturing him."

Captain Denny's reply came swiftly. "Yes, but it is hard to say whether the Mediterranean is the best place for him. If there was to be a sudden resurgence of his popularity, he could easily return to continent."

"Are you saying that he ought to be sent to his death?" asked Lord Albert.

"Certainly not--only send him off further, to a more considerable distance. If one wished to prevent any returns by him, Napoleon will need to be placed in arrest at a much greater length of sea from the continent."

"And secluded," added Colonel Fitzwilliam.

"There is a thought there," said Uncle Albert thoughtfully.

"Does Lord Albert enjoy the discussion of politics?" Aidan asked me in a lowered voice.

"It would unavoidable," I answered. "He takes his seat in parliament very seriously."

"That is devotion and dedication indeed," Aidan mused. "I cannot say that my father himself is much interested in politics as he is in his title. I believe that in some ways, that is good for him, for my father was never one to make much decisions."

"It is a fair gain as well as loss," I returned, "Though judging from what you say, it seems to be much more of a gain for the viscount. Tell me, have you ever given any thought to being in parliament?"

"I will never become a peer," laughed Aidan.

"No, I don't necessarily mean in the probability of being in the House of Lords. Do you think, that given the chance, you would like a seat in government?"

Aidan looked at me in wonder. "No," he answered at last. "No, I do not think that I would."

It was my turn to be surprised, for I had thought his reply would be on the contrary.

"Perhaps you wonder why I say this," he said, "But I must tell you that I have always been rather indifferent to government and politics myself. I do not see the need to burden ourselves with such large ideas when, within even a small society, there are major issues to combat. I don't think that involvement with large affairs outside of one's troubles should precede large affairs within." He added in a whisper. "Besides, many people have an ill opinion of politicians. Many feel that they continually break promises, and for such a reputation to carry, and such small salary by proportion to the risks, I should not at all like it."

"Some may say the same for attorneys and lawyers in general," I returned. "And I do not see how the peerage has made my uncle's reputation any worse."

"Then I have an explanation for that," he said with a shrug. "Lord Albert must be a happy exception."

I was glad when at length, Uncle Albert and Aunt Margaret withdrew, leaving the rest of us free to converse with each other as we pleased.

"We were just mentioning books," Colonel Fitzwilliam addressed me, "And I mentioned that you have quite a collection of plays and novels. Would you recommend any to Captain Denny?"

"The captain might perhaps try Mrs. Radcliffe," I said, glad at this open opportunity, "if Captain Denny still enjoys the gothic novel."

Captain Denny returned my smile. "I shall keep that recommendation in mind."

"I never realized that you read novels," Aidan remarked to me.

"Novels provide a very interesting diversion," I answered. "I would loathe to think that I should not enjoy a good novel."

"But they are hardly what one would call 'literary'," Aidan responded.

"If Miss Darcy spends much time reading, then she has employed herself well," said Captain Denny. "I know of no other ways in which a solitary person may enlighten one's mind."

"I agree, that time is employed in the activity," said Aidan, "But do you not feel that novels encourage silliness and insipidity when indulged in ceaselessly?"

"Surely anything that is a ceaseless indulgence will dull the mind," Captain Denny argued, "But, where there is time added to allow for reflection of what has been read, there can be no danger of encouraging mindlessness."

Aidan was unconvinced. "There is also the danger of promoting irrelevant tolerance. A reader who is completely captivated by the subject of the story may feel an inclination to excuse the bad conduct of a main character which that tale endeavours to represent."

"I could not agree with you on that point, Mr. Gilford," I spoke. "There is tolerance of many kind, but upon contemplation and meditation, the points of a novel are either accepted or refuted by the reader. Generally, because one likes a novel does not necessarily mean that one condones all that is written in it, and because a novel begins badly, does not mean it should not end well."

"But, if you were to begin reading a badly written novel, which appeared at first to be promising, you would continue to read it to the end, despite its depravity?"

I smiled. "It would all depend. I would like to put it down, although I would feel obliged to continue reading, in the hopes of finding some improvement along the way. It is the same with people--You continue an acquaintance, hoping to find at least some radiance or enlightenment in the association."

"It has always been my opinion that it only takes the foremost instance of a first meeting in order for one to forge an opinion of the other," said Aidan. "In my experience of taking on cases, this has never failed me--One ought to follow one's instincts. The same, I feel, should apply with all things, including books. You trust your instinctive knowledge in your choice. Why must one suffer through the rest if the implication is there, that the rest will be disagreeable?"

"You are very harsh indeed, Mr. Gilford. Though I must admit that I am very far from being saintly in my acquaintance with others, if every one were to judge as you do, we would lose many interesting social interactions. What is the benefit in choosing so precisely based upon mere instincts, with so little rationale involved, and when it would only serves to limit the advantages of a well rounded circle of acquaintances?"

Aidan looked smugly at me. "What according to you, are the advantages in not limiting one's circle? You would not wish to befriend every stranger you meet on the streets or in the country."

Involuntarily, I glanced towards Captain Denny, and noted the grave expression on his face. It was no wonder, for our first meeting had been on the streets of Meryton.

"Gilford, I must beg to interrupt," Colonel Fitzwilliam jested conveniently. "You are quite monopolizing the attentions of my cousin."

"Do allow me to apologize, Miss Darcy," Aidan answered with a slight, pretentious bow of the head.

"Since we were discussing literature," said Colonel Fitzwilliam purposefully, "I wondered whether anyone had an interest in the recitation of Shakespeare? My father has a rather extensive collection of the plays, and perhaps we could spend an evening of drama."

"I would rather spend the rest of the evening perusing some music that Georgiana has lately purchased," I answered, swerving from his course. I eyed my sister, and she looked back at me with a demure, but understanding glint in her blue eyes.

"Yes, there was something which Viola was going to demonstrate to me," Georgiana said. "There is a passage which we have been practising, and wish to perfect."

Colonel Fitzwilliam yawned. "Well, I must say that I have never been much of a musical man, and so I will recline myself to the library, to seek out my uncle's volumes. Do the rest of you wish to accompany me?"

Silently, I hoped that both Captain Denny and Aidan Gilford would comply with my cousin's offer. The truth was that I felt immensely awkward in my position--Aidan was paying compliments as well as exerting forceful attentions on me, and Captain Denny was gallingly silent, which was not at all what I had wanted. As far as I was concerned, the rest of the evening was irredeemable. I sincerely hoped that they would leave my sister and I alone in the drawing room, so that I might spend some time thinking on other things. To my relief, Colonel Fitzwilliam was able to persuade the two men to take his example, and they closed the door behind them, without so much as a backward glance.

"I hope you are satisfied," said Georgiana at last breaking our silence.

"What do you mean?" I asked in surprise.

"Anyone who didn't know better would have thought you and Mr. Gilford were encouraging each other."

I stared at her in disbelief. "That had never been my intention."

"Regardless of what your intentions were, if you had any consideration for Captain Denny--"

I felt the heat rush up my neck and flush into my face. "I could not steer the conversation away from Mr. Gilford, and clearly, if the captain had wished to put in a word, he would have."

Georgiana shook her head, and seated herself at the piano. "Viola, do you have any inclinations towards the favour that Mr. Gilford has for you? It seems clear to me that he enjoys paying you all that attention."

"That would be ridiculous indeed," I said, attempting to laugh the accusation away. "Although I like him well enough, I would never harbour such feelings for him, and I do not think he is at all serious in his attentiveness. He is a good speaker, and is winning in his ways, but I do not see how I could admire him any more for that, than I would for any gentleman with enough wit to command him to write charades and draw up cases." Having reminded myself of the charade that Aidan had given me to pass on to Georgiana's collection, I produced the slip of paper which he had handed to me earlier, and flourished it in Georgiana's face. "And that reminds me of the charade that he wrote for me to pass on to your scrapbook. Read it, and see if you can guess at it."

"A Charade (Answer in one word with two syllables)," Georgiana read aloud.

"My first, a letter learnt in infancy
And one which, alas, so often leads
An answer that afflicts, sans decency,
The bearer of the gallant deed.

"My second, a useful tool
Without which exists no scale.
Thus acting as a general rule,
It allows not one, who acts, to fail.

"Together--oh, what heavenly bind!--
They promise one of bliss in ploy,
Casting light on happy minds,
As the appointed day arrives in joy."

I re-read the first stanza, and shook my head, laughing. "No, indeed not. I am not at all a successful charade solver. Have you really no clue?" Suddenly, I turned cold as the comprehension came to me.

"My first, a letter learnt in infancy--" Clearly, this required an alphabet, for what other letters were learnt in childhood but our ABC's?

"And one which, alas, so often leads
An answer that afflicts, sans decency,
The bearer of the gallant deed."

"My second, a useful tool
Without which exists no scale."

"Thus acting as a general rule,
It [a gauge] allows not one, who acts, to fail."

"Together--oh, what heavenly bind!--
They promise one of bliss in ploy,
Casting light on happy minds,
As the appointed day arrives in joy."

In Georgiana's face, I saw my own expression mirrored. Aidan's words from before rang in my ears: "I believe there is something owing, which I have not yet had the pleasure to address earlier...the charade, which you commissioned me to write..."

Miss Grantley

How am I to resolve this? I asked myself over the next several days. Was I to behave as though I had never guessed the charade, or ought I speak frankly to Aidan Gilford, that I did not wish to encourage his attentions? I appreciated having his friendship well enough, but as to anything more, I would be fooling myself to think that I could deceive myself into loving him. Yes, his congeniality and charming smile were great assets to his person, but even all that airiness will be spent some time or other, and then what would one do? Smiles cannot last a lifetime-one needs something more substantial out of life than living with a Cheshire cat. I imagined that after breaking the news to him, he might make a scene, as his brother had done, or take my refusal with a feigned calmness full of cold severity--but either way, I could not delude him further--I would speak to him, if he were to refer to the subject again.

Such an opportunity came sooner than even I could have anticipated. On a fine day, while taking my usual walk to the lending library, he met me on my path and offered to accompany me.

"I must beg your pardon immediately, for the liberty that I have ventured to undertake," he said, looking greatly more anxious than I had hitherto seen him. Inwardly, I groaned to myself-alas, must this always be the result of my friendliness with the Gilfords?

"Do not work yourself into such a state," I said abruptly. "Whatever is on your mind, you may speak as freely as you wish, but only if you feel that they are prudent to communicate."

Aidan cleared his throat uncomfortably. "It is on a matter concerning--" He broke off suddenly, only to inquire how I had found the charade.

I held my breath for a moment. "I'm afraid I have hardly had the time to consider it these last several days," I lied.

He looked inquisitively at me, then nodded his head. "I understand," he said slowly, "You need not trouble yourself, Miss Darcy. I know how difficult a position it is for you."

Seeing his crestfallen expression, I quickly interjected with the phrase that I had composed the previous night in my head. "Please do not think that I wish to offend you, Mr. Gilford. Indeed, that is the very last thing which I would think of doing. As a friend, if you will consider me as your friend still--"

He looked eagerly at me. "Yes," he interrupted me. "That is what Miss Grantley and I had hoped to find in you."

Miss Grantley?

"Miss Grantley and I-" He laughed sheepishly-"Well, I have made a bad start of it, haven't I? Let me begin again. Miss Grantley told me that you were the best hope we had in terms of offering aid to our most ludicrous situation."

Ludicrous situation? I recovered from my initial shock. "What sort of help have you been hoping to obtain from me?"

He now looked discomforted. "You see, Miss Grantley and I have been engaged, secretly, for some time. My mother would not hear of anyone in her situation marrying me, and so we kept our engagement quite a secret. But now, we feel that it is time to be married, for I am quite nearly my own independent person, and we do not wish to wait any longer."

And so, Aidan Gilford had befriended me in the hopes of me offering him help out of his situation? Although I was relieved to hear this, I wished to reproach him for being so careless in the way he seemed to fawn on me earlier! He expected me to offer him my assistance, after he made such a fool out of me? However, I smiled at him. "With this account, I hardly know what it is I can do."

"Miss Grantley's belief was that you might put in a word of good for her, if you were to visit with my mother some time."

I shook my head. "Yet, still, how may I succeed where you have failed? If Lady Gilford is adamantly set against such a match, is it logical to assume that the interference of a mere acquaintance will change her opinion entirely?"

"But have you never seen the influence you have over my mother? You, Miss Darcy, are more than just a 'mere acquaintance'. It has been both Miss Grantley and my opinion that my mother greatly admires you, and if you can perhaps win her over to the idea..."

Ah...and so, that was the cause for his attentions towards me. I had the power of refusal-I could simply shake my head, and tell him to resolve the situation all on his own, but even after committing such a social wrong, I could not subject him to further troubles, especially as it would cost me so little. Reluctantly, I nodded my head. "I shall see what I can do, though I shall have to warn you that you grossly overestimate my abilities." I paused, deciding to rebuke him a bit. "Apart from the efforts on my side, I would advise you and Miss Grantley to break the news to your mother as openly and honestly as possible. It is especially expected of you to come to the truth straight away, as no honourable gentleman would do less."

Aidan pressed my hand gratefully. "I shall, immediately after you have turned my mother's mind around on Miss Grantley's character. Thank you, Miss Darcy. I knew that you would understand. Only your delicacy prevented you from admitting it at first. My mother is at home every morning until noon, and you might call on her then."

We walked for a bit in silence, until he seemed to think on something, and he chuckled.

"Now what did you think of my charade? I had been hoping to polish it up a bit after you have read through it, and then present it to Miss Grantley" he said. "It was clever, was it not? Do you think that perhaps she will think it is clever?"

"You heard me rightly, I am sure," I reprimanded him. "Or else, you are truly lost with love. I have had no time to think on it these several days, but I am sure that whatever you compose for Miss Grantley, she will cherish it dearly."

It would never do to let on that I had in fact solved the puzzle, and mistaken its message as being meant for me!

Soon enough, I called on Lady Gilford at her house on _____ Street. She received me most gratifyingly, though as to the reason why, I could hardly decipher. It was true, Lady Gilford was strangely easy and agreeing with me. This unconventional visit was a success. I had underestimated my powers with her, for Lady Gilford was easily won over, and now, I could claim for myself the credit of Aidan Gilford and Miss Grantley's successful match.

At the conclusion of the business, I sent a note to Miss Grantley, announcing what I had done for her. She showed up at my aunt and uncle's home immediately the next day, eager to express her thanks. Upon entering the room, Miss Grantley, she cried out in happiness and grasped for my hand.

"Miss Darcy, I am delirious with joy," she said, "after what you have done, speaking to Lady Gilford in such complimentary terms of me. I am certain that if you had done nothing, Lady Gilford would not have been convinced of the advantages of the match."

I had been pleased with the results of my visit, but her overt reaction was something of an embarrassment. With a faint feeling of chagrin, I begged that she would sit down. "What I did was so very little," I returned, and hastened to briskly summarize what I had said to Lady Gilford concerning the good reputation of Miss Grantley, and the need to act quickly if she were to secure so good a daughter-in-law. Then, Miss Grantley decided to narrate the entire course of her relationship with Aidan Gilford, down to the very menial details of their courtship-the whole narration of which accounted for an hour of the visit. How they fell in love in Bath, and became engaged to one another was of no concern to me. As I nodded my head politely, I noted rather dryly that a Mary Grantley in love did not know how to stop talking, or to pause for a breath between excited utterances of her happiness. All I could wonder at was that an engagement could ever have been formed successfully in the first place, for surely Aidan must have had to fit a word in somewhere between Miss Grantley's unabated joy and profusion of enraptured love.

However, I reasoned with myself, stranger miracles have happened before.

Their engagement became a publicly announced piece of news throughout our circles, and if my vanity had been slightly bruised by being less important than I had supposed myself to be, at least it was renewed by my prowess in bringing about successful conclusions to such related messes.

My interest in the affair was only surpassed by that of Aunt Catherine, who never failed to find fascination in scrutinizing the details of the story.

"I certainly hope that Miss Grantley is a high-born lady, for her future husband is the son of a viscount. It must be infamous of them to have kept the engagement a secret for so long. Honour, decorum, all forbid it. I can see that Mr. Gilford did not have his faculties about him when it occurred, for had I been informed of this earlier, I would never have advised this attachment-I would have instantly brought Mr. Gilford to see the light of the situation. I shall always think that Lady Gilford suffered from a sudden lapse in judgement, in allowing such a match to take place. She were better to have chosen one of Lady Metcalfe's daughters."

"I am not sure," laughed Colonel Fitzwilliam, "That one has a choice in feeling attached."

"You would hardly know," said Aunt Catherine. "You have never had the fortune of meeting with one to match you in station and rank, and you have generally too much good sense than to be so easily attracted by the arts of an upstart young woman."

Aunt Margaret and Georgiana both worried of how the news would react on me--for, little did they understand my role in it. Georgiana assumed that I would be upset over being used as no more than a screen to the truth that Mr. Gilford had tried to hide.

"Are you quite certain that you are not upset?" Aunt Margaret asked me anxiously. "I know what his attentions to you were in Bath and this past autumn, and also the favour his mother seemed to cast on you. Are you sure that you do not mind the news?"

I laughed. "Aunt Margaret, I understand what your fears are, but please let me assure you that I am not at all injured."

She was unconvinced. "Perhaps, as winter is beginning to approach, you and Georgiana should consider a change of environment. How about returning to Pemberley? Your expectations--"

I placed a hand over her arm to stop her from proceeding. "I have never cherished any expectations of that kind towards him. I never loved him, and never was in the danger of falling in love with him. You must know that I have not, especially after we had our serious discussion a while ago. Relieve yourself of your worries--I am not so easily wounded."

"It certainly does no excuse him for the charade," my sister told me at night, in the privacy of my room. "He was hardly wise to have written such an epistle to one lady while he was engaged to another."

"I cannot rebuke him. Miss Grantley was on his mind, and he wished to tell someone of it, I mused. "But, I think, if he promises to always cherish and love Miss Grantley, this instance of secrecy and lapse in judgement may be excused most readily. I am sure, that with his sanguinity, it would be difficult for anyone to remain indecorous towards him because of one small, flawed conduct."

Georgiana was pensive. "I see now," she said at last, "you really do not feel a thing for Mr. Gilford. What, then, of Captain Denny?"

"What is there to consider of the captain?" I asked innocently.

"You simply can't let on as you do, as though you do not like him."

"A moment ago, you were worried about how I would be affected by the news of Mr. Gilford's engagement. If I was, as you supposed, injured by the sudden turn of Mr. Gilford's attentions, you could not suppose me to likewise dote on the thought of Captain Denny!"

"I was only thinking."

I tilted my head inquisitively. "You know, my dear, you take a special delight in my affairs. How much I must miss in not knowing yours."

Georgiana coloured demurely. "That was hardly charitable. You would change the subject so abruptly."

"Go on to your room," I commanded, pretending to push her out of my room. "Confession is over. It was high time that you were tucked into bed, little lady."

Lady Catherine de Bourgh Speaks

With the short time left in town, I plunged myself into music, as though there was nothing else which could take my mind of things. I chose to dedicate my time to one piece in particular, the last movement of one sonata which I particularly liked. There were little other pieces which quite sang itself as touchingly through the hammers, dampers and strings as that particular movement of the Tempest did, but apart from it being my favourite, it was also one of the tunes which I remembered Captain Denny humming in Bath.

This attribution to him made me feel lonely, and ridiculous. I ought not to spare a thought on him, where there should be so little cause for it. That was what I tried to tell myself.

What was it, indeed, that made me admire him?

From our earliest acquaintance, I remembered feeling a slight interest in him, because there was something markedly different about him when compared to the rest of the men of the same militia. He had also been regardful and considerate towards me at the Netherfield ball, even though he had no knowledge of my true connections, and even though scores of other more attractive ladies were nearby. Lastly, after he discovered my connections to George Wickham, he had not shunned me, but paid his respects, and apologized for what comments he had made earlier that might have appeared uncharitable. Perhaps, I liked him because he was frank and showed sensitivity, and was excellent company. He used no arts, and never attempted to flatter me as other gentlemen tended to do. Perhaps, I had expected a low-ranking soldier to be uncouth and ignorant, but he proved himself to be warm, educated, intelligent, and far exceeding the good graces of the gentlemen of my acquaintance. I did not need him to go to Cambridge or to accomplish heroic, self-sacrificing feats before my eyes in order to convince myself of his excellent character: my observations of his conduct towards his aunt, his civility towards everyone, the complete absence of false gallantry, and the esteem of his fellow soldiers, were charms enough.

My lengthy reverie was broken by a wild commotion of sound at the front hall. It had to be a visitor. As Uncle Albert was retiring in his library, and I was the only one left in the house, I rose to receive the guest. However, before I had time to check my reflection in the mirror, the door of the drawing room was hastily thrown open--my aunt Lady Catherine de Bourgh swept haughtily past Nancy, and sat down with an air of more than the usual ungraciousness.

"I'm sorry, Miss," Nancy apologized timidly. I nodded understandingly, and dismissed her.

It was rather early in the day to withstand one of Aunt Catherine's insolent moods, and as she appeared to be more disagreeable than usual, I was determined not to be the first to speak.

Soon enough, Aunt Catherine broke the silence.

"You can be at no loss, Viola, to understand the reason of my journey hither. Your own heart and conscience must tell you why I have come."

I could not try to look unaffected, for her tone of voice made me recall Fitz's account of Aunt Catherine's visit to him prior to his engagement with Elizabeth. But how had my brother withstood her boldness? And from what quarters had Aunt Catherine first received the idea to pay me a similar visit?

"Viola-" she said, angry at my reticence. "You ought to know, that I am not to be trifled with. However silent you may choose to be, you shall not find me so. My character is celebrated for its sincerity and frankness, and in a cause of such a moment as this, I shall certainly not depart from it."

She tapped her walking stick against the floor and studied me in a scrutinizing way before continuing.

"A report of a most alarming nature reached me two days ago. I was told that not only was Miss Grantley on the point of being most advantageously married to my lawyer, but that you, my own niece, would be soon afterwards united to Miss Grantley's brother, Henry. Though I know it must be a calumnious falsehood, though I would not injure you so much as to suppose the truth of it possible, I instantly resolved on making my sentiments known to you."

Instantly, I was relieved at what she assumed to be the truth. She thought that the gentleman in question was Mr. Grantley! Miss Grantley, with her fervent hopes of happiness for her brother, must have thought that I might still place some favour in her brother's attentions-but what folly it was that Miss Grantley would still pursue such ideas after my continual inattention to them. However, without intending to correct my aunt so early, that I might hear what other ludicrous assumptions she had procured in her mind, I looked away.

"And you have made your sentiments known," I said, hiding a violent urge to laugh at her. "If you believed it impossible to be true, then I wonder you took the trouble of coming. What could you propose by it?"

My aunt looked at me as though she was not believing what I had just uttered. "Why, at once to insist upon having such a report universally contradicted," she exclaimed.

"If such a report is in existence," I corrected her.

"If! Do you then pretend to be ignorant of it? Do you not know that such a report is spread in the neighbourhood?"

It was absurdly ridiculous that I would actually take delight in vexing Lady Catherine de Bourgh-and yet, I was amused! "I never heard that it was," I said as calmly as possible.

"I insist on being satisfied. Has he, has Mr. Grantley, the upstart, made you an offer of marriage?"

"You have declared it to be impossible."

"It ought to be so. It must be so, while you retain the use of your reason, but in a moment of infatuation, you may have forgotten what you owe to your family. He may have drawn you in. I am almost the nearest relation you have in the world, and am entitled to know all your dearest concerns."

"But such behaviour as this will never persuade me to be open with you."

Aunt Catherine closed her eyes for a moment to compose herself. At last, as if resolved to try to be calm, she asked as politely as possible,

"Are you engaged to him?"

"No, nor do I expect to be."

She was relieved. "Well, then, why would you not give me a straight answer at the first opportunity? Why do you act as obstinate and headstrong as your brother?"

"Because if I were to yield to one demand from you," I said gravely, "how am I to know whether you may not impose yourself on me a second time, such as you do now?"

Aunt Catherine was shocked. "A second time?" she said in alarm. "Let me be rightly understood. Any matches to which you have the presumption to aspire, can never take place. No, never. You are as good as engaged to the gentleman whom I choose for you, and so there shall not be a second time to this. Now what have you to say?"

"Only this-" I assert, not quite believing her impertinence- "If that is so, you can have no reason to suppose I would accept an offer to anyone without first consulting you."

She hesitated. "Do you not remember the stipulations of your uncle's will? You must marry with my approval, or you shall never collect his legacy. Do you pay no regard to the de Bourgh clan's wishes?"

I tried to suppress my exasperation as best I could. "But what is that to me? If there is no other objection to my marrying a gentleman of my choosing, I shall certainly not be kept form it by knowing that I might not collect an inheritance which I had neither asked for, wished for, nor expected. If the gentleman is neither, by honour nor inclination, confined by this loss, why is not he to propose, if I am that choice, and why may I not accept him?"

"Because decorum, prudence, nay interest forbid it. Yes, Viola, interest; for do not expect to be noticed by the de Bourghs, if you willfully act against the inclinations of all. You will be censured and slighted and despised, by every one connected with you."

"These are heavy misfortunes indeed," I replied, "But with other sources of happiness attached to my situation, I could have no cause to repine."

Aunt Catherine's face turned pale with rage. "I am ashamed of you. This is your gratitude for me? Is nothing due to me? You are to understand, I came here with the determined resolution of securing your promise to marry a man of my picking, nor will I be dissuaded from this resolution. Other than the insolent behaviour of your brother and his disgraceful wife, I have not been in the habit of brooking disappointment."

"No one else," I said, in defense of my sister-in-law, "considers Mrs. Darcy to be disgraceful, and if you pretend to find her so, then your situation is indeed pitiable, but it will have no effect on me."

"I will not be interrupted. Hear me in silence. You are descended of a noble line, and yet you continue to associate with such lowly connections as the Grantleys and even worse, to take Lady Fitzwilliam's example in befriending a gouty governess and her common soldier nephew. Yes, her nephew is but a simple, lowly, rankless officer. I hope that you have more sense than to aspire upon Captain Denny. Fortune he may have some claims to, but if you transpired to have him, you shall only be leading the life of a soldier's wife. If you were sensible of your own good, you would not wish to quit the sphere in which you have been brought up."

Now that she had dragged Captain Denny into the discussion as well, I felt no more need to hold back his name. "In acquainting myself with Mrs. Quarrie and her nephew, I never considered myself as quitting that sphere. Mrs. Quarrie was the wife of a gentleman; by the Quarries, Captain Denny was brought up as a gentleman; and I was brought up as a gentleman's daughter. So far, we are equal."

"True, but who were Captain Denny's parents? Do not imagine me ignorant of his undignified connections-I have been receiving communication that his father was no more than a measly lieutenant, and that his mother was penniless."

"Whatever his connections may be, if I do not object to them, they can be nothing to you."

"Then has Captain Denny made a proposal to you?" she asked. "Has he had the preposterous notion that he might win you over? Tell me once and for all."

I hesitated, as it would have given me more satisfaction in withholding the truth. "You assume much."

Aunt Catherine was pleased.

"And," she said, closing her eyes for a moment in relief, "Will you promise me, never to enter into such an engagement either with Captain Denny, or any other officer?"

"I will make no promise of the kind." Despite the shock written on my aunt's face, I rose to my feet. "I must beg that you importune me no farther on the subject."

"I have by no means done. To all the objections I have already urged, I have still another to add. I am no stranger to the particulars of Captain Denny's first military situation. I know it all, that he was a friend of George Wickham, and that it was through his means that George Wickham first found a fortunate post in the militia. You know the rest of the scandalous affair concerning him and your brother's sister-in-law. Now, are you going to throw away ten thousand pounds from your uncle, on an insignificant regimental captain? Heaven and earth!-of what are you thinking? Are you going to follow your brother's example, and marry the man who will only further pollute the shades of Pemberley?"

"Had your insults not been so readily spent upon them, the 'shades of Pemberley' might never have been polluted. You can now have nothing more to add. I must beg that this discussion end immediately." I walked to the door as I spoke, and opening it, I turned boldly and expectantly towards Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

"You have no regard, then, for the honour and credit of your family?" she exclaimed. "Do you not consider that a connection with a mere captain must disgrace you in the eyes of everybody?"

"I am sorry, Aunt, but I have nothing more to say. You know my sentiments."

"You are resolved to have a lowly soldier?"

"I have said no such thing. I am only resolved to act in that manner which will constitute my happiness."

"You refuse then, to oblige me. You are determined to ruin your family, and make yourself the contempt of the world. You refuse to obey the claimed of duty, honour, gratitude, and the wishes of your late uncle?"

"The wishes of my uncle would not have included suffering your repeated insults hurled at me or at my family."

"Very well," said Lady Catherine, drawing herself up. "I shall now know how to act. Do not imagine, Viola, that your ambition will ever be gratified. I came to try you, and hoped to find you reasonable. But depend upon it, I will carry my point. I send no compliments to the rest of your family. You do not deserve it, and I have done with all of you. I am most seriously displeased."

I closed the door softly after her and wondered in quiet amazement, whether it had truly been me a moment ago, who defied Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Until now, I had never challenged her with anything more than the normal impudence of a stubborn niece, but what I had said and done today... Had Fitz been as resisting as I had been? I feared to consult him, for what might he think of me afterwards?

When Aunt Margaret, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Georgiana returned, and the horrific visit had been discovered, I was obliged to give a little lie concerning the cause of the abrupt visit, for to disclose the real substance of our conversation would have been quite scandalous.

Leaving London, again

"Certainly not," we answered. Georgiana was becoming quite an attractive eighteen year old, and deserved to have such youthful pleasures. She looked flushed with excitement, at the prospect of a party, with revellers, good company, and perhaps a little dancing, all in her honour. According to the Fitzwilliam tradition, no evening party was ever complete without the traditional round of dances to conclude the night.

The appointed day arrived, and with childish anticipation, we dressed ourselves with the most self-absorbed consciousness. Whimsically, I picked out the light, blue dress which I had purchased in Bath with Kitty Bennet, for something told me that I would not regret wearing it tonight. As customary, I helped Georgiana fasten white honeysuckle in her hair, and she helped me pick out a proper chain to go with the small, amber cross which I wished to wear.

"You look very well," Colonel Fitzwilliam commented as he saw me. He approved of my dress with a nod. "That dress is very becoming on you."

I thanked him for the honest compliment, for he was not often so commending in his remarks towards my appearance. My cousin cast me a genuine smile and went to greet the guests.

Though feeling more light-hearted than usual as I stood with Georgiana and her friends, I was sensible of the fact that there were not many ladies of my acquaintance present-perhaps, because most of my acquaintance had sadly moved on with their lives. In this mood, I listened to Miss Radisson, a mere sixteen-year-old, laugh and jest with Georgiana as I stood by with Miss Grantley. To some relief, her brother, although cordial, had stopped renewing his attentions towards me, and I became more agreeable than I had hitherto exerted to be.

At the table, I was satisfied in seeing Clement Gilford regarding Miss Radisson with interest. His brother was likewise engaged in a deep conversation with Miss Grantley, and Lady Gilford nodded and smiled frequently at them-evidently taking great pleasure in the connection.

Mr. Grantley sat by me at dinner. He spoke of the navy, and of the many different things that he had seen. It was, after all, the safest subject in which he could discuss freely with me such ideas that I was not in danger of contradicting. How he reasoned himself into a state of indifference towards me can and must only be explained by the same reason to which he first set off on the course to attract me-his weak vanity. He strove to please himself, and when the effort became too great, and results too little, he resigned himself to passivity.

While thinking on this, concentrating on spearing the meat on my plate, and simultaneously hearing him speak to me of seeing the colonies, I noted a shuffle in seating on my left. Mr. Radisson wished to sit with someone else, and immediately, an obliging gentleman had taken his place by my side. I never once looked up. But, as Mr. Grantley concluded his descriptions of the ports, I reached out for my wine glass-and in my quick movement, my elbow swung into the arm of the gentleman on my left, and the droplets of my drink spilled out. The victim of my wine glass gave a little exclamation of surprise. I would have recognized the voice anywhere. Only then did I realize that the gentleman was no other person but Captain Denny.

Quickly, I apologized, as he dabbed at the sleeve of his coat jacket. He shook his head, to indicate that no injury had been done, and that it was not a serious spill.

Recovering myself, I managed to stammer a hello, which the captain returned with, in a somewhat restrained tone. I knew him to be too good to be upset over a trifling spill, but his seemingly untouched voice did upbraid me. Furiously, I searched my thoughts for something to say, but my mind only drew a blank. At last, he saved me from my troubles by commenting on the food.

"Yes, the fowls are done to a turn," I answered in confusion.

"Lady Fitzwilliam has a very good taste in furnishings."

I nodded.

He turned his eyes towards the windows. "The weather has been unusually warm for November, has it not?"

I continued to nod at each of his choppy remarks in bewilderment. I noted to myself rather bitingly that there could be only one explanation for his abruptness, and it was that the captain, like me, was dreadfully at a loss as to what to say!

"Have you attended any concerts since being in town?" he eventually asked.

I told him about the pianoforte recital I had lately heard, then I added, as well, that I had recently watched a production of Twelfth Night.

"Ah-'If music be the food of love, play one'," he quoted.

"'Give me excess of it, that surfeiting, the appetite may sicken and so die'," I returned. "What other lines do you know by heart? I love the speech, where Cesario says, 'Make me a willow cabin at your gate and call upon my soul within the house, write loyal cantons of contemnèd love, and sing them loud even in the dead of night.'"

Captain Denny smiled at the invitation. "How about this: 'Women are as roses, whose fair flower, being once displayed, doth fall that very hour.'"

"'And so they are'," I continued from him, "'Alas that they are so: To die even when they to perfection grow.'"

He tried another. "'There is no woman's side, can bide the beating of so strong a passion, as love doth give my heart.'"

"Yes, but: 'She pined in thought, and with a green and yellow melancholy, she sat like Patience on a monument, smiling at grief.'"

He paused. "'How easy it is for the proper false'-" he began, "-'in women's waxen hearts to set their forms-'"

"'-Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we, for such as we are made of, such we be.'"

Captain Denny looked pleased. "You know the play well."

"And you do too," I said, failing not to give him his due credit. "I cannot challenge you."

Dancing commenced after our Shakespeare duo, and before I realized it, I was being led into the first set by Captain Denny. For a long time, we spoke very little, for I did not wish to break my thoughts over what had passed, until at last, he said,

"I believe we must have some kind of conversation, Miss Darcy. It is a custom to speak when dancing."

"When do you return to the regiment?" I asked him.

"It all depends on when I am needed."

I noted Miss Grantley and Aidan Gilford in the other set. "Do not you think they look well together?" I asked.

"Mr. Gilford and Miss Grantley?" he said uncertainly. "If you mean in their dancing, yes they seem well suited to one another. It has been once said that dancing is an emblem of marriage, but I will not go into that discussion, for I would be forging the philosophy of a friend, and not creating my own."

I looked away. "I am interested in what your friend had to say," I said.

"It is that both partners have the obligations to fulfill their part in the partnership, and that neither ought to wish they had bestowed themselves on another, once the partnership was contracted." He laughed. "He did say it rather sprightly though, for he had meant it much in jest."

"If one can judge a marriage by the dancing, then Mr. Gilford has not failed in his choice of wife," I said lightly.

We were silent for another moment, until Captain Denny mentioned London society during the winter season.

"I am leaving the day after tomorrow," I said. "I am going back to Pemberley."

His expression as I said this could not be observed. As we came back together, he asked,

"You are returning there for Christmas?"

"Yes-and perhaps I will not return to London until next winter."

"That is a full year."

"Yes."

"Is that how you choose to lead your life-in a whirl of constant travelling and entertainment, never stopping more than a few months in one place in order to establish lasting friendships?"

Something in his words, and perhaps, also in his tone, made me feel unwell.

"I would do more if I could," I returned. "Excuse me."

I quit the set quickly and wove my way through the crowded room to an abandoned balcony, and stood there, against the cool night air. He was soon by my side.

"I am sorry if what I said offended you, Miss Darcy," he apologized. "I had not meant for it to sound critical."

I turned to him. "You are perfectly justified in what you said. I have led my life rather unprolifically. You men may say more, do more, and custom makes it so. We women, on the other hand, must have as little to occupy our minds as possible, except for the little 'education' we receive. You may go about as you like, with all your admirable occupations, while we become the simpering, insipid dolls that society wishes us to be."

"I would be repulsed to belong in the society of which you speak," Captain Denny said, mortified. "But I think I understand what your feelings must be, after-after what Aidan Gilford has done-" He hesitated. "You must allow time to heal your injuries."

I felt wretched that he should think Aidan had anything to do with my present feeling of inferiority!

"No-" I exclaimed, "Forgive me-I was only-" I shook my head. "You are dreadfully mistaken, Captain Denny. I am not distressed over Mr. Gilford." I went on to explain that indeed, I had been the means of mending their matter so happily. On the captain's face was a look of amazement.

I tried again. "I only meant to express-" I paused as I tried to describe all that had happened over the year, from my brother's second proposal to Elizabeth, to their wedding, to London, to Bath, to Pemberley, and to London again; of feelings, and moods. Yet, I could not derive from my readings even one quote to encapsulate half the whirl of feelings which I now felt. There were no humdrum analogies, no standard clichés, nor sugar-dusted metaphors, to help me through-and for once in my life, I was inarticulate.

I tried to smile my weakness away. "You find me at a vulnerable time," I jested rather ruefully. I hated the thought that Captain Denny should see me in such a state. "I believe that in fairy tales, knights must attend to a lady in distress, but this time, I hope you will overlook such a custom and grant me time alone."

Instead of heeding to my half-hearted attempt at a joke, Captain Denny stayed by my side, and looked at me with an expression of earnestness and ardour in his dusky eyes.

"I am no poet," he confessed in a voice full of emotion, "nor am I one to make rousing speeches. All I hope is that you will be patient and hear me through-" He proceeded in speaking to me of his feelings, in terms so felicitous, so divine, sacred, and in tune with the sentiments of my elated heart, that I shall not endeavour to reproduce on paper the exact expressions and words of the promise which we afterwards exchanged. My description of what came next would also seem feeble and colourless if I reproduced them on paper, when compared to the actual symphony of our sentiments, so I shall only say that after I gave him my clumsy, but heartfelt response, I lifted my gaze up to his, and knew that every misunderstanding that had been between us had now been vanquished.

When Captain Denny led our way back into the room, I felt a warm, encompassing flush of happiness, and although Georgiana spoke with me in passing, I knew of no other conversations I had that night but for the ones which I shared with him.

Our affections for one another would have to be kept secret for a while, because although it had amazingly endured time, it would need to undergo one more test-and that was whether my brother would give us his blessing...

Leaving London, again (cont.)

For many hours that night, I stared up at the ceiling in the dark, trying to devise ways in which to break the news of the engagement to Fitz and Georgiana. I had no fears of my sister's rejection, but as for Fitz.....He might not be so easily convinced. I recalled the near-catastrophe concerning Mr. Bingley and his wife-Had it not been but for Elizabeth's disapproval of his conduct, my brother would never have come to see the wisdom of the match. I could not so easily rely on Elizabeth to do the same for me-It was simply not possible, since she hardly knew Captain Denny as well as I did. Why were Darcys blessed with so many gifts but the gift of elocution?

When in hesitation, my father often said in his lifetime, write out your thoughts.

Well, it was good advice. We Darcys continually resorted to the pen and ink. Accordingly, I climbed out of bed, blindly felt my way to my dresser, and lit a candle. Gathering my stationeries, I began to compose my speech.

My dearest brother, I began, Since having been in town-

I grimaced, reading over my words. No, "my dearest brother" did not work. I never called him that in person, except when I was feeling particularly impertinent, or wished to tease him. Perhaps, I ought to be direct, but employ a little humour? Crossing out the previous line, I began again.

Fitz, I think you will be delighted to know that at last you have me out of your hands. Before you even had time to think on your poor unmarried sister-

No. That simply made me sound desperate to be married, which was hardly the case. I tried again.

Fitz, since residing these last several months in London, I have met with an acquaintance I made some two years ago, a Captain Denny, of the _______ regiment, and who also happens to be an officer under the direction of our cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. You might have known him in Hertfordshire when he was first stationed at a lieutenant with the ______ militia in Meryton, but through an act of bravery, he was promoted, and his commission subsidized--

I crumpled the paper in frustration. Fitz would not wish to hear a long preamble, and it was certainly not in my style to narrate a long story before reaching the point. Conciseness was what Fitz would want from me, so I must be brief. Taking another sheet of paper, I dipped my pen into the inkwell, hoping inspiration would come at last.

Fitz, I wrote. And stopped.

"Well?" I asked myself aloud. "Go on, you timid, foolish girl."

...You are my brother, and since my earliest memory of you, I have always respected your opinion. I wish to apply for your approval of my recent conduct. Captain Denny, whose aunt was an intimate friend of Lady Fitzwilliam, has made me an offer of marriage, and I have accepted it, even without first consulting you. To own the truth, the captain and I have been moving within the same circles since his return from the continent, under the regimental division of Colonel Fitzwilliam. I became acquainted with the captain's character, and later on, Captain Denny and I developed an attachment for each other that, even had I been more prudent, could not have been avoided. It is my hope that you will approve of our engagement, or at the very least, give us your blessing, as I still look upon your good opinion with the greatest respect.

I read over my words carefully, but dissatisfied, I crumpled this sheet as well. Why was it that there were no etiquette books to help one through a situation such as this? Surely, with so many women married, more than one of them must have met with my fears? I blew out the candle, and groped my way in the darkness, back into the haven of my formerly warm bed. Yawning, I closed my eyes, vowing to think of the way to announce the news to Fitz, but like all resolutions that one makes under the comforts of a warm blanket, mine were too quickly snuffed out by a dreamless sleep.

The next morning, Captain Denny came to call on us, and my cousin, who seemed to read the captain's eagerness to speak with me, proposed a walk to the book shop.

"Well, didn't you say you wanted to fetch something from Grimsby?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked me, with a twinkling in his merry blue eyes. "I heard you mention it to Georgiana last night. Denny and I were just planning to go down that way. We can escort you."

Aunt Margaret quickly agreed to her son's plan and ousted us from the house, almost before I had time to grab my bonnet and shawl.

Georgiana and I trailed a bit behind the two gentlemen, though all the time, Colonel Fitzwilliam beckoned Georgiana to walk at a faster pace while I continually stepped on the heel of Captain Denny's boots, until at last, somewhat tired by his clumsy attempts at putting us together, my cousin practically took Georgiana's arm and shewed her into a nearby hat shop.

"Oh look," said Colonel Fitzwilliam in an awkwardly loud voice. "Is that not the hat you wished to purchase the other day, Georgie? I say, we ought to go in and take a look at it, since you have been such a good girl of late. Denny, do you care to accompany Viola to the Grimsby? We will meet you there by and by."

Glancing shyly at Captain Denny, I took his offered arm, and we proceeded along our way.

"Well, I will apologize for the colonel's behaviour," said Captain Denny as soon as we had gone a short distance away from the hat shop. "I am afraid that I gave him the hint that I wished to speak with you."

"Not a very gentlemanly conduct on either of your part," I said lightly. "I can think of many great ladies who would protest against such a display, as the two of you have put on today."

Captain Denny laughed. "I have never resorted to such tricks until now. I must admit, that is why I have failed so miserably. I am sure I could have managed it with a little more tact had I the time to think it through."

"But not with the very same sincerity," I answered, casting him a warm smile. In a half jesting tone, I ventured to tell him about the troubles I put myself through the previous night, when I ought to have been asleep.

"That would explain the circles under your eyes?" he joked.

"Now, do be serious," I said, examining his sleeve so that I might not have to meet his glance. "You have not been much acquainted with my brother, and though he is the dearest gentleman alive, excepting you, he may not look on us with very quick approval."

Captain Denny was grave. "I hope my character is not the cause of his objections. I do not disguise myself as to say I am faultless-for I do have my faults-but I hope I am not one of those with a character that Mr. Darcy could not learn to approve of."

"No, no," I cried, "You make him out to be all condescension. I will warn you that you may soon receive a visit from my aunt Lady Catherine de Bourgh on that note, but Fitz is not at all like that. He has sometimes been called proud, but I do not think it is that at all, but his aloofness towards strangers, and his somewhat closed circles. But for all that, Fitz is exactly what one could hope for in a brother."

To my relief, Captain Denny placed his hand over mine, and assured me that he meant nothing disagreeable by what he had said. "In time, he will come to approve of me, if you fear that his acceptance might not come in the first instance. This is what I will do." He paused, and I nodded at him to proceed.

"This is what I will do. As a gentleman, it is only honourable and noble to speak first with your brother. I hope that what you tell me of your wrangles last night was only in jest, because I never once expected you to shoulder the burden of speaking first with Mr. Darcy, and I certainly do not ask of you to do that now. Let it be me, to first break the news to him, by letter, so that he may be fairly forewarned, and then, as I am sure Mr. Darcy will do, he will ask for an interview. In person, I might speak with him, and let him realize that he has little to fear for the welfare of his sister."

Satisfied, I withdrew my hand from his arm. "Before then, we must not let gossips presume the publication of our news," I explained. "Mrs. Grimsby has a keen observation, and any little thing which she thinks is remiss will be sure to be spread far and wide in the next social gathering. It would not serve as well to be spoken of in that manner."

"But you do not care for such society, do you?" asked Captain Denny. "You have often said you didn't."

I thought for a moment. "I've never been at the centre of any gossips that I know of, and I would not wish to begin now." I looked away as I felt my face feel warm. "I think," I said, hesitating a little, for fear that he might laugh, "things would not be so sweet if rumours were to be dashed in."

"Let them speak as they wish-You know how little merit such tales often have."

Not knowing exactly how to explain myself, I blurted out, "You would not understand."

Captain Denny was silent.

I felt badly for having resorted to such a line. Immediately, I slipped my hand back into its place on his arm, and closed my mouth for the rest of the walk.

The rest of the time spent in London had much the same mixed emotions for me. Captain Denny came by again to help us with our boxes, but otherwise, at what he assumed was my wishes, he did not attempt to show any of his affections, or even to hint at it with a smile. All I received was the fixed, earnest gaze that told me he had been hurt by what I had said about my concern for society's opinion.

As he handed me into the carriage bound for Pemberley, he managed to slip me a message.

"I've sent the letter off," he whispered into my ear. I looked back at him, relieved to see that there was, at last, a smile on his face. I pressed his hand to let him know that I was sorry for what I had said, but did not attempt to put my feelings into words, for he would comprehend.

Would things turn out well? I hardly dared to dote any thoughts on it, but prey on my mind it did. It was a wonder that Georgiana or Colonel Fitzwilliam (who was escorting us back to Derbyshire) managed to squeeze out any words from me.

Continued in Next Section

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