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November 17th 1915-London, England

Darcy shifted in annoyance on the hard bench and scowled out at the passing countryside, they would reach Victoria Station in five minutes, and for that he was relieved, but otherwise he was in a foul mood. As Alastair had predicted he had come out of his morphia induced sleep at midnight, he had woken to a leg that felt like it was on fire and a head that felt like it was stuffed full of cotton wool and a feeling of immense depression. In that condition he was expected to memorise lists of instructions and warnings, he was demonstrated the workings of the leg brace and given papers that enabled him to get morphia from a hospital as well as Laudanum. He had then been permitted to sleep until after the morning wave of injured from France and then Alastair had demanded he repeat back what he had been told at midnight the night before. Darcy had only got halfway through that before he needed prompting and by ten o'clock he had been released from the hospital and taken to the trainstation, courtesy of an ambulance. Exactly how he intended to get to the War Office Darcy did not know, but he was sure he would find a way.

"Major Darcy?" The voice called almost as soon as he had descended from the train, but Darcy didn't know who had called and proceeded to look around himself in bewilderment. "Major Darcy?" The voice this time spoke from next to him and looking down Darcy found himself inspecting a very familiar face.

"Miss Marshall, how do you do?"

"Very well thankyou Major. You are fortunate, I was expecting you on a different train and only stopped here to buy a newspaper before going to the other end of the station."

"I'll count it my lucky day then."

"How are you?"

"Tiring rapidly and I'm afraid my temper is deteriorating at about the same speed."

"Then I suggest the cab over there provides transport for us." Anne lead the way to the cab as hurriedly as Darcy and his crutch could move, which was not very fast at all.

"Take a seat Darcy." Parker came charging out as Darcy began to enter.

"I'll see you later Major." Anne nodded briefly before leaving the room. Darcy looked around the office and found it to be totally devoid of decoration, and that included the lack of a water or any other fluid container. With a sigh Darcy realised he was going to have to wait 'til someone returned before he could get a drink.

"Sorry about that Darcy." It was ten minutes later when Parker re-entered the room. "Anything I could get you?"

"If you could get me a glass of water?" Darcy made his request diffidently, then had to bite back a grin at Parker's stunned expression.

"Water? Well, sure, but what do you want with a glass of water?"

"I wish to drink it." Darcy instantly regretted the curtness of his response, but at the same time he was feeling too tired and sore to be tactful.

"Sorry." Parker beat a hasty retreat from the room then let out a relieved breath, before going in search of a glass of water. 'De Duivel' was most certainly still in existance, a mixed blessing in itself, Parker was now of the opinion that 'de Duivel' was more accurately Darcy's character then the facade he played most of the time. Darcy was most certainly not a soft or gentle man, if he commended anything it had to be really good, he would criticise sooner than compliment, but if there was a problem there was no person Parker, or any other of Darcy's friends, would sooner turn to.

"A problem Parker?" Anne slid out of the shadows and touched him on the shoulder.

"I don't think so Anne, go home and sleep, I kept you up for the whole of last night."

"Very good, return to Major Darcy, I'll get the water then go home."

"How do you know Darcy asked for water?" Parker stared at her in surprise.

"I received a warning from an old friend at Camthorne Hospital that if he did not request water on arrival he was to be forcibly made to take some."

"Anne...?" Parker didn't bother finishing his question, but there was warning in his voice.

"Go back to your visitor, you cannot know everything." Anne calmly disregarded the warning and went off to get a jug of water and a glass. They were sitting silently when Anne returned to the office.

"Thankyou very much." Darcy filled up the glass with water, then rifled through his pockets 'til he found the small bottle he was after. Two drips into the glass and the bottle was returned to his pocket. Darcy swirled the contents of the glass around thoughtfully, then quite suddenly drank it off with a grimace and promptly followed the first glass of water with a second glass.

"I'll be going now Parker. Shall I inform Isabelle of the guest?"

"Please." Parker watched Anne out of the room then turned back to Darcy. "What was all that about?"

"All what about?" Darcy was well aware what Parker was asking about but he had no intention of discussing the subject at all.

"The stuff in your water."

"That is my business, not yours." Darcy shifted in his chair. "Why did you ask me to come here?"

"How are you finding soldiering, Major?"

"Interesting enough." Darcy was wary of this apparent change of subject.

"Ever considered doing anything else?"

"Is the War Office dissatisfied with my work so far?" Darcy had stiffened instinctively.

"No, not at all. In fact you'll get your battalion as soon as you've recovered sufficiently to be sent back to the front."

"It is certainly pleasant to hear that my services are appreciated, but that does not seem to answer why you asked me to come here at the earliest convenient moment."

"Sorry, I was just trying to ascertain whether or not you were suited to soldiering that was all. What do you know of the Africa and Middle East Campaign?"

"Not very much, infact I have to claim near total ignorance on the subject."

"Then we will invite an old friend in, one certain Randall Bruce of the Foreign Office, and he will fill you in thoroughly on the subject." Parker picked up the telephone as he spoke and in matter of minutes Bruce had banged on the door and strolled into the room.

"Helloa Parker, Darcy." Bruce dropped down into a nearby chair and grinned. "What can I do you for?" It took Parker the space of a few seconds to fill Bruce in on what he could do, then for the next sixty minutes Darcy found himself at the receiving end of one of the most intense analyses of a theatre of war he had heard. Bruce took every part of the situation, he explained the reason behind each step and pinpointed how most had failed, he analysed every clash with the enemy down to basic moves, he analysed the reasons behind moves taken by the opponents in those two theatres, he explained the effects that the threatened Jihad could have on the war in that region, he pinpointed the places of risk and explained the reason for why they were points of risk. Even without a map Darcy had to bow to the sheer accuracy of all this information, his military knowledge backed up every statement that was made. Bruce remained for less than a minute after he had finished.

"Sorry, got to go, Foreign Minister is in a bad skin today, must pacify the old buffer."

"The Foreign Minister would probably not approve of those remarks Bruce."

"He's not meant to, I'm his secretary." Bruce cocked a cheerful head then vanished out the door.

"How would you like to return to the type of business you were doing in June-July of '14?" Parker folded his hands together and calmly stared at Darcy.

"If the War Office consider that my duty then I will do it." Darcy stared back flatly.

"This, Darcy, is not a matter of Duty. I'd sooner tie a rope around my neck, tie the other end of it to the branch of a tree and then jump out of the tree then I would undertake the job I am proposing. This is not a question of duty, this is a personal decision."

"Can you tell me what the job is before I make my decision?" Darcy stared thoughtfully at a spider spinning a web in the window sill, that Parker was serious there was no doubt.

"Certainly, you know about half of the matter already. As you remember we managed to round up the malefactors in the case and were merely clearing up the bases and communication posts when the war began and you departed from our merry team."

"I certainly remember that, though personally speaking I would sooner call it a matter of the business having gone out of my depth. I am not of the type that makes an agent, my grip on languages is deplorable, I'm an even worse actor or pretender, I have a decidedly unstellar limit to my patience." Darcy shrugged. "But continue, I interrupted."

"Never-the-less your remark is valid. As I said we were supposedly just cleaning up when you left us, by December we realised that we had a problem. We did not catch the big 'fish' of the business, of this we may be certain since many of the communication posts were still active. Andrea at this point came in with a 'friend' and he did some mind-bogglingly efficient work and supplied us with the information we needed. By January we were ready to clean up the whole business, the big 'fish' was identified and watched, then suddenly the friend of Andrea's made an emergency call from somewhere in Germany. What prompted the call we have yet to know, but the man ran enormous risks to make the call, again we lost the big 'fish', but this time the catch was much closer he left a mark behind in his departure."

"Nash?"

"Nash. Since we made the emergency, but unsuccessful, sweep I have managed to speak to Mr Nash and he has a most interesting tale to tell, but I'll save it and let him tell it to you himself at one stage. At the same time Andrea vanished, he vanished for nine months, and I mean vanished completely, we didn't know where he was, his 'friend' didn't know where he was, it was as if he had vanished off the face of the earth."

"To vanish off the face of the earth is not difficult." Darcy's tone was dry and his remark got a comprehending nod from Parker.

"If anyone can hold an opinion on that, you certainly have the right." Parker paused to blink distantly at the wall. "Two months ago a man was found in a small dell outside a small Hertfordshire town, he was suffering from bullet and knife injuries. He was all but dead when he was found, fortunately the person who found him knew who he was." Parker stopped again, then looked back to Darcy. "In nine months of work and waiting we had achieved exactly nothing. From Andrea we inherited a sheet of paper, and after two months I am afraid that it is nearly as much a mystery to us as it was on the day we first viewed it. The answer to this entire problem lies in that sheet of paper and in a small Hertfordshire town, the man we are after is a ruthless killer, you have met him yourself, you have viewed his methods firsthand. Your chance of survival is nil by the most optimistic computation, your chance of success is registered in the negetive figures. I can offer you no protection if you take this job, I can offer no one connected to you protection, you will be beyond the pale."

"Meaning that you can't help me out of any mess I might get in?" Darcy paused briefly while Parker nodded. "But it also means that I am no longer bound by the laws of this country, I have a completely free hand?" Once again Parker nodded, but this time he was looking slightly wary. "That should even out the survival odds to about ten million to one then, instead of nil."

"Why do you say that Darcy?"

"Logical, if I am bound by nothing then he is going to have to spend more time considering what I intend to do rather then considering his own moves."

"Hmmm." Parker sounded dubious.

"Can I see the piece of paper?"

"Sure." Parker removed his feet from his desk and landed the front legs heavily on the floor, before rocking up onto them while he dug into one of numerous draws. It was a plain white sheet of paper which he finally handed across to Darcy.

"This isn't the original." Darcy observed the fact as he scanned the contents.

"No, the original was somewhat battered and bloodstained, we thought it wiser to make a copy of it."

"True, not many people like handling bloody paper." Darcy frowned down at the page.

HE1
Nickel
Grauße's Atmung
Scorpio-Skorpion
Docked Shinken

"Make anything of it?" Parker had resumed his position with his feet on the desk.

"Not much, but the last line was written by someone else."

"The person who found Andrea wrote that, apparently he was rather insistently repeating the words up 'til he died, the contact thought they might have some connection with the matter and so added them to the bottom of the page. We assume that is what he meant, but as with you Andrea is not good with languages and we never heard the words, and neither is the contact familiar with any language outside of english. As a result they sit at the bottom of the list as recorded and we hope they are relevant and we hope that they are correct." Parker shrugged slightly.

"Can I give a response on this come tomorrow morning, the laudanum has slightly fogged my ability to think."

"That was laudanum you took earlier?"

"It was very nearly morphia, except I had no hot water. Now if I may be excused I still have to arrange for my accomodation for the night."

"You're staying at Queen Anne's Gate, I'll go get a cab arranged."

"Thankyou." Darcy made two futile attempts to rise from his chair then gave up with a growl of disgust. "Parker would you mind giving me a hand up? I seem to be still somewhat stiff from my journey here."

"You're a very bad liar Darcy, but here goes." Parker grabbed a hand and gave a firm pull, Darcy came to his feet and immediately grabbed the chairback.

"I thankyou Parker, and I actually wasn't lying. I just wasn't admitting to where I was coming from." Darcy picked up his crutch and headed for the door.

"Darcy I'm amazed you're still alive."

"The Devil wouldn't have me so I'm stuck here for a bit longer it seems."

"Don't joke on such matters!" Parker growled as he left the room, and by the time Darcy reached the front entrance the cab had arrived, twenty minutes later Darcy was installed in a bed in the house at Queen Anne's Gate.

It was three in the morning when Parker finally slid into the house in Queen Anne's Gate, it was with a mixture of relief and disappointment that he noted the absence of Isabelle on the stairs. Parker paused momentarily at the foot of the stairs, then suddenly turned and headed towards his study at the back of the house. It was in surprise that Parker saw a light glimmering under the door and it was with wariness that he pushed the door open and entered.

"Hello Parker, you're pretty late returning."

"You weren't waiting up were you Darcy?" Parker stared in astonishment at Darcy who was sunk in a deep armchair with his leg up on a footstool.

"No fear." Darcy didn't even glance up from his book. "Your beds are, as always, too short. Also your steps are to steep and even combined they weren't confident of being able to carry me up the stairs." Darcy finally glanced up and gave a slight grin while Parker dropped into the other armchair.

"Any other complaints?"

"No, I was supplied with the most edible dinner I have had in a year and I'm now ensconced in an armchair that is so comfortable that it will require both you and Nash to get me out of it tomorrow morning."

"Well I'm glad these chairs past muster with you, now answer a question honestly. Why is your leg currently in a brace? and why did you get off the Kent train?"

"That's two questions, which one do you want answered?"

"The second."

"I got off the Kent train because I was in Kent, not in Derbyshire as you assumed."

"I heard you were released last week."

"You heard wrong, my survival was merely confirmed last week. Alastair has sworn to murder me if I make a mess of the work he has done. Where was Andrea found? other than in Hertsfordshire." Darcy promptly changed the subject he had no wish for Parker to order him back to the hospital.

"Meryton, a poisonous place if I have ever seen. Mostly consists of the half-baked literati and artists desperate to save their souls, around that there are some landowners who for the most part aren't much better. They have a shock hospital there called Meryton Hospital and Weatherton Hospital which is a general hospital, Weatherton is actually understaffed and too full but no one has yet complained loudly enough for it either to be brought up to size on staff or for it to be closed."

"Meryton you say?"

"Correct, you know someone from those parts?"

"Yes, Bennie was from Meryton if I remember much." Darcy's tone was curt.

"Why did you ask where Andrea was found?"

"Because Andrea was a friend and no friend of mine gets bumped off with ten bullets and multiple knife wounds without me at least trying to find the killer. As I observe the matter the killer and the solution to that problem of yours are probably the same thing. Give me a copy of the sheet and all the information you can give me, I'll see what I can do and hopefully not get killed."

"Magreeta called you de Duivel and he had good reason for so naming you. Live up to the name with my blessing, I have little liking for people who are so careless with their weaponry."

"You are not the only person, I have major objections to having such a good valet as Nash being made essentially inactive."

"Yes, Nash, I sort of forgot he was your valet."

"I didn't. I'll leave after lunch tomorrow. Is there any way I can get in touch with the 'friend' of Andrea's?"

"No, we've kept the link we have with him watched but nothing has shown up since Andrea was reported deceased, in fact we've heard nothing from him since back in april-may when he was asking if we knew where Andrea was." Parker shrugged slightly, but it wasn't quite casual enough to conceal the concern he had on the matter, Darcy calmly stared at his still booted foot.

"Well if you can get contact with him try and get everything he knows about our friend."

November 18th 1915-Netherfield, England

Charles Bingley was willing to swear he was going insane......that is, more insane then he already was, he had been here precisely two days and more then half the neighbourhood had tried to visit him. Tried to visit him since he had had the butler announce that he was away from home. How on earth they knew he was here in the first place rather bewildered him, and how they knew what was wrong with him bewildered him even more. It came everytime, from the women at least, was it his arm that made him unavailable?

"Your pardon, sir." The butler had slid silently into the room while Bingley had been thinking.

"What is it Barner?" Bingley rubbed a weary forehead as he conned through maps and maps and maps.

"I was thinking you might find life somewhat more peaceful, sir, if you were to start seeing your neighbours."

"Why this sudden advice Barner?" Bingley looked up curiously, unconsciously rubbing his shoulder.

"In truth, sir, the Colonel has come to call, he knows you are here and he refuses to leave."

"The Colonel?" Bingley looked puzzled.

"Yes sir. The Colonel is the largest estate owner here, but he was seen little until after the African wars."

"Okay, let him in." Bingley gave the instruction in resignation, if the man knew for certain he was actually in the house then it wasn't worth his trouble to refuse him.

"Very good, sir." Barner slid out of the room again, soon to return with the visitor.

"Goodafterno......" Bingley stopped dead in his greeting.

"Colonel Bennet sir."

"I gathered as much. Take a seat, sir." Bingley self-consciously returned his own seat.

"No thankyou, I actually just came to say hello, welcome you to Meryton, and advise you that as much as you might like your own privacy you are very likely to get more privacy if you do not set yourself up as a mysteryman. Two days are acceptable since everyone thinks you are just recovering from your trip here, but I suggest you at least permit people to call."

"Thankyou for your advice sir, I think I will follow it. May I be permitted to call on you tomorrow?"

"Certainly, come whenever, I am rarely out of the house." Mr Bennet nodded briefly then left the room.

"Barner, you have a fool for a master. I suggest you go enlist." Bingley made the remark as Barner returned from showing Mr Bennet out of the house.

"I tried sir, they wouldn't have me."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sir, if it were a trouble to me I would ensure that conversation did not go in such directions. Now if you'll excuse me, sir." Barner slid out of the room again, leaving Bingley to kick the wall in frustration.

"Blast it to hell, how can I have been so stupid!"

"I couldn't say, seems to be a habit with you."

"Darcy!" Bingley jumped then spun around. "What on earth are you doing on my windowsill?"

"Sitting here."

"But why? Why aren't you in Kent? Come in man, come in."

"Thankyou." Darcy carefully lifted his braced leg over the sill, his crutch and the rest of him soon followed. "Was that a familiar face I saw departing as I arrived?"

"Should have been, I nearly fell over when he came in. I've been combing through the Hertfordshire maps after a Meryton and completely forgot to note that I was already in Meryton."

"Yes, I think that warrants the question of how you can have been such a fool."

"But Darcy, why on earth are you in civilian dress?"

"Because the War Office wanted me to run a survey sort of thing, ahhh, something to do with the different treatment which is given to men of uniform and men who are not in uniform, or something like that."

"Darcy, I don't believe you in the slightest."

"That's a pity for I'm not giving any other reason. For the rest of the world I am supposed to be your friend and a Conscientious Objector, unless of course you refuse to put me up, in which case I'll go reside at the Horse and Hounds and pretend to not know you."

"Not put you up? Darcy you are insane, of course I'll put you up."

"Then I'll just vanish out the window again and make more formal arrival. Do be a good chap, look after this, it won't do at all for me to arrive with a crutch in tow."

"Sure." Bingley took the crutch in blank bewilderment and after a moments hesitation he shoved it behind the sofa. He then watched as Darcy carefully climbed back out the window.

"Your pardon sir." Barner slid into the room once more some five minutes later. "A certain Mr Darcy has come to call."

"Show him in Barner." Bingley came out of his chair as Darcy appeared behind the butler. "Darcy, so kind of you to come visit me in my suffering." Bingley shot across the room to shake Darcy's hand energetically.

"Careful Bingley, you'll rumple my coat." Darcy shook hands with Bingley briefly, then worriedly scanned his coat.

"Oh forget your coat man, how are you?"

"Much better then you are with your insufferable war. How's the arm?"

"Healing well." Bingley returned to his seat and indicated for Darcy to take a seat. "You here to stay or just passing through?"

"To stay if you'll have me." Darcy calmly seated himself on a cane chair and frowned in concern at his trousers, he had laid his silver topped ebony cane down next to the chair.

"Barner could you have Mrs Parks prepare a bedchamber?"

"Very good, sir." Barner slid out of the room, and soon returned to announce that a certain Miss Caroline Bingley was on the telephone.

"What on earth does she want?" Bingley looked thoroughly dismayed but never the less extricated his person from his comfortable armchair and departed from the room. He returned nearly ten minutes later looking thoroughly disgruntled. "Caroline is coming to care for her 'poor brother who has so suffered for the call of duty' I quote her word for word. I was also reminded to give her regards to 'Mr Darcy whom I have heard is staying with you'."

"Bingley, I take my hat off to your sister, she seems to know my mind almost sooner then I do. I only decided to come here this morning. She doesn't know of me as a Major does she?"

"I don't know what to think, but she is arriving tomorrow afternoon with Louisa and Mr Hurst. And no, she shouldn't know that you were ever in the armed forces at all, for some reason Bennie and I only ever refered to you by your rank." Bingley frowned up at the clock on the wall. "Dinner at six okay with you?"

"Skipping I'm afraid, I had a high tea at Farnborough and that has been more then sufficient." Darcy had infact not had a high tea, but he was feeling vilely ill thanks to his leg and he had no intention even attempting to eat until the next morning.

"Then is it alright for you on other days?"

"My appetite is very adaptable."

"Darcy...." Bingley stopped and suddenly crossed to open the door, the hallway was empty, Bingley reclosed the door and returned to his seat. "You're going to have to explain this to me more fully if you want me to not muff it."

"There's not much I can say, to quote an old friend 'we are writing this script as we go'."

"That doesn't help me much." Bingley looked put out.

"It doesn't help me much either, your basic guidelines are that I am vigorously opposed to the war. Major Darcy is a person you never knew other than as your commanding officer in France, and if anyone asks I am my own brother."

"That is senseless." Bingley rubbed his shoulder in annoyance. "Why should you be opposed to the war? Why should I say you are your own brother if someone asks?"

"Bingley." Darcy suddenly picked up his cane and rose to his feet. "Those questions I cannot answer, but this I can say, blow my cover and I will be as good as dead. My life, quite bluntly, is going to remain in your hands and in your tongue until I depart Hertfordshire."

"But Darcy, you can't put a load like that on me, I can't keep secrets to save my life."

"Well you managed to hold up your end of the bargain concerning South Africa when it came to the company, surely you can pull a similar stunt here?" Darcy crossed across to the door and smiled faintly before walking out. Bingley stared at his boots in dismay, how was he meant to pull off a charade like this one? And what did Darcy mean by saying that his life was dependant on this charade? He must be joking, unfortunately Bingley knew that Darcy had a very minimal sense of humour, and a very dry one when it showed at all. Darcy would most certainly would not joke on a matter such as this one.

"Mr Bingley?" A face was peering around the door at him, and it was most certainly not a familiar face. "My name is Nash, I am the valet of Mr Darcy."

"How do you do Nash." Bingley couldn't think of anything else to say.

"I am in my usual health." Nash's response puzzled Bingley, but Bingley had enough puzzles that this one was ignored and put aside. "Mr Darcy seemed to think you might have questions, I can answer many questions that he cannot. But as with him I cannot answer all, if I knew all the answers we would not now be here." Nash had entered the room and closed the door behind himself, but he remained standing beside it.

"Was Darcy serious when he said his life depended on this business?" Bingley waved a vague hand.

"Quite serious, and he spoke nothing but the truth, but it would be in your best interests to forget the matter. Mr Darcy is just your good friend from school who has some regretable opinions."

"But...." Bingley stopped and frowned. "Okay, tell Darcy I'll see what I can do." Bingley watched in silence as Nash departed from the room. So friend Darcy was a Conscientious Objector, opposed to war in all its forms, well friend Darcy better not be to vocal when it came to denouncing the war or Bingley might ignore the King's Regulations and end up striking a superior officer. This train of thought suddenly brought Bingley up short and while he remembered the question Bingley left the room and headed for the stairs. Mrs Parks had put Darcy in the second guest chamber and Bingley hesitated briefly before he knocked. Nash's head appeared almost immediately.

"It is Mr Bingley, sir." Nash's position was such that no one could see into the room.

"Then let him in." There was vague amusement in Darcy's voice, and Bingley found himself quite swiftly pulled into the room before Nash closed the door again. Darcy was lying on his bed in a loose pyjama suit, and by the looks Bingley's arrival had interrupted something.

"Darcy.." Bingley stopped and stared as Nash resumed working at the foot of the bed, Darcy was giving as much help as he could, but that mostly consisted of advice and instructions.

"Continue man." Darcy didn't glance up from his inspection of what was happening at the other end of his bed.

"What's a conscientious objector doing with a broken leg?"

"The conscientious objector will not have a broken leg." Nash spoke softly from the foot of the bed where he had finally finished connecting up a nasty looking contraption.

"But wait a minute, how can that be?" Bingley felt slightly ill, he did not like the look of the machine at the foot of the bed at all, and now he was thoroughly confused.

"With a lot of stubborness and laudanum." Nash suddenly empty a large supply of walking sticks and canes onto the floor, they fell with an abnormally large amount of noise, and Bingley realised that the box which had held them was, in reality, Darcy's cradle. The cradle was laid on the bed and Darcy grabbed his pants about mid-shin to move the leg across into the cradle, at this point Darcy took over all operations and in what Bingley found to be a remarkably short space of time one leg brace was removed and replaced by something that appeared to be more of a foot brace. Two wires were passed around two more pulleys then attached to the foot brace, at this point Darcy retired once more from operations and settled back with a grimace on his pillows, Bingley noted that he was very pale and that perspiration bedewed his brow.

"You repeat last night Nash and I swear I will kill you." There was not even a hint of laughter in Darcy's voice.

"What happened last night?" Bingley was curious about this, Darcy very rarely threatened or stated an intention, he tended just to carry them out.

"The fool released the weights too quickly and damn nearly rebroke my leg for me." Two creases cut between Darcy's brows and Bingley cast a hurried glance at the foot of the bed, but Nash was ducked below the footboard.

"Beginning now sir." Two minutes later the operation was complete and Bingley was wondering more than a little how one slept when attached to such a contraption.

"Bingley, remember in future that no one will be able to access this room between the hours of eleven in the evening and eight in the morning."

"We breakfast at nine here."

"That's fine, just don't try to gain access during the night for you are very unlikely to get a response."

"Now back to why I originally came, what are you doing about this leg, what story are you going to use to explain it away?"

"One might at the same time ask how I'm going to explain away all the shell damage I suffered. The simple answer is that I intend to do neither."

"Wha...." Bingley gaped.

"The simple answer is that Mr Darcy is going to become an elegant gentleman about town, he will affect a cane, a monocle, and he will be excessively concerned about the welfare of his attire." Nash spoke from the dressing table, where he seemed to be heating something up over a spirit lamp.

"But wait a minute, you'll cripple yourself if you don't at least keep to a crutch. Darcy, I'll be damned if you......" Bingley got no further since Darcy coolly interrupted him.

"Nash, hand him my cane." The weight of the cane staggered Bingley.

"It weighs a tonne Darcy." Bingley stared at his friend in amazement.

"Precisely, it has the strength of a crutch, and yet at the same time it appears to be a foppish ornament. Just make sure that no one else touches it." Darcy retrieved his cane from Bingley's grasp and propped it against the head of the bed, then grimaced as Nash approached the bed with a glass. "Goodnight Bingley, I will see you tomorrow morning at nine." The dismissal was unmistakeable and with a reluctant pause Bingley turned and departed the room, he hadn't the faintest idea what all this was leading to.

"Mr Bingley?" Nash had followed Bingley out into the hallway.

"What is it Nash?"

"The crutch, man, Darcy gave it to you to keep safe before he officially arrived." Nash delivered the entire thing in a hissed undertone.

"Library, behind the sofa."

"Then get it up here immediately." Nash promptly returned to the room they had both so recently departed while Bingley calmly descended to the library and retrieved the crutch. Bingley checked the hallway before he exited the library and finding it empty he made his best speed for Darcy's room. A quick tap had Nash's head through the doorway and the crutch exchanged hands before the door closed again. Bingley walked slowly off down the hallway feeling strangely folorn, he was well out of his depth and he knew it well.

November 19th 1915-Longbourn, England

The sight of the Netherfield motorcar had Kitty and Lydia pressed up against the window, Mary had deplored the vulgarity of their behaviour and was reading sermons in the corner, and Jane was not watching for the simple reason that she was currently on day shift at the Meryton Hospital. Elizabeth, who was currently convalescing from an attack of tonsilitis, opted to not even join her sisters in the front room, instead she sat on the first landing. From her vantage point Elizabeth verified that Lieutenant Bingley was in uniform, unfortunately the front hall was ill lit since mrs Bennet had yet to get around to removing the black crape she had covered the front windows with the day after news of Folin's death had come, it had taken about two days for Mrs Bennet to get over his death, not that that stopped her bewailing the fact that the estate was still under Mr Bennet's grandfather's entailment. Elizabeth was of the opinion that such a display as crape on the windows was unnecessary since Folin had been dead a week before they knew about the matter.

"Lieutenant Bingley, sir." Mr Bennet had looked up somewhat surprised when Hill had entered the room, but had risen to his feet the minute he heard who had come.

"Come in Lieutenant, I had completely forgotten that you wanted to call today." Mr Bennet was somewhat surprised to see that Bingley had a military issue pack with him, but he assumed the matter would be brought up if it was of any consequence to this requested visit. "Take a seat, can I get you a drink?"

"Uhhh, no thanks, actually heading to the hospital as when I leave."

"Lucky person, take a seat all the same. What can I do for you?" Mr Bennet returned to his seat.

"Well I'm actually here on a somewhat awkward matter." Bingley bit his lip. "There was a death in my company during the recent fracas at Loos, well actually there were an awful lot of deaths and even more wounded, but only one was handed to me to deal with. The man was Lieutenant Folin Kirth Bennet and we have had some difficulty tracing his family, I made the assumption that you could help me."

"I can, Lieutnant Bennet was my son."

"Thankyou sir. Do you just want me to leave the pack and get out of here or would you like to know what happened?"

"We have received no information since the telegram informing us that he was listed as killed-in-action on a specific date in a specific place. I admit I would like to know what happened if it is not to difficult for you."

"Not at all. I'll first say that the reason that you have heard no further on the subject was because our Colonel was actually killed in the reprisal of our attack and our Major is was still on morphia when I last saw him." Bingley took comfort in the knowledge that this was not a lie, for Darcy had indeed been drinking morphia when Bingley had last seen him. "What basically happened was that we were told to go, so we went and got shot to smithereens. A high explosive shell wiped half of Bennie's platoon and sent him flying, I thought he was gone then and the lot of us were returning to the trenches when suddenly I saw Bennie scramble to his feet. Bennie came about two steps in the direction of the trenches, then he just roundabout turned and took off for no-man's-land, I assumed that the shell had shocked him and knocked him silly, for that was a pretty common occurance after you took a toss, then he went flying again thanks to another near hit. I assumed he was dead at this point because he was still for nearly five minutes or I'd guess at that anyway, I wasn't precisely watching my clock at the time. Then suddenly he hopped back up again and started pulling, it was at this point that the lot of us realised that the Major wasn't yet back in the trenches, I then realised that he was pulling the Major. I realised that Bennie hadn't a hope of getting back intact without some help, the Major's nearly a foot taller then him and a good half-weight more heavy, so I grabbed one of my privates and took off to give him a hand. The Major was out cold by the time we got there, but something makes me think that he was conscious when Bennie got to him. Harper, my private, and I had dumped our packs before taking off to get the Major, but Bennie still had his on. Carrying an unconscious man across no man's land is no joke, and it's even less fun when the hun is shelling you. We made it to the trenches fine and Bennie sent Harper me down into the trench, after he had pitched his pack in, we had unfortunately picked what was probably the only empty trench on that part of the front. Well actually it wasn't empty, but the occupants weren't going to be of any use to us, so Harper and I dove into the trench while Bennie started lowering the Major from above, the Major's leg made Bennie reluctant to pitch him in. We were told by Miles, captain of the next company, that it was a shrapnel shell, but I only take it from him because I came to to have the Major and a large portion of the parapet on me. Harper was buried waist deep, but I'm afraid Bennie must have taken the majority of the blast. Without doubt his death was instantaneous, also without doubt he most certainly saved the lives of the Major, myself and Harper, and there wasn't enough left of him for him to be buried properly. Saved the Major's life in particular because the Major most certainly would be dead if Bennie hadn't gone out to retrieve him, by Miles' report the retaliation to our little fun and games was decidedly bloody." Bingley grimaced, then suddenly dug around in his pocket and pulled out a small box. "This arrived for Bennie and got redirected to the Major, who gave it to me to give to you. It's an M.C.. the Major actually reckons it should have been a V.C., I agree with the Major, but the high command seem pretty reluctant to hand them out for anything less then taking a machinegun nest singlehanded." Bingley chucked it across so it landed with a soft thump on Mr Bennet's desk.

"I thankyou Lieutenant, it eases the mind somewhat to know that Folin did not suffer. I'm glad to know that he didn't just die as cannon-fodder. The lord gives and the lord takes away." Mr Bennet crossed himself then stood up. "Was there anything else you wish to say?"

"No." Bingley glanced at his watch, "but I sure need to get moving. Goodbye sir, I hope to see you again. I will admit I nearly passed out when you entered yesterday, your son looks remarkably like you." Bingley nodded then left the room, these civilians absolutely infuriated him with their patient waiting, their gratefulness for what little information you could give, it made him feel like a cad and a hypocrite and it made him want to go to Berlin and Vienna and blow the perpetrators of this war to Hell. But Bingley's anger did not last long, for a little voice continued niggling that conditions could be even worse for the civilians in those places, and much as he liked to try to believe it, he could not believe that they deserved it anymore than people like the Bennet's deserved it.

November 20th 1915-Longbourn, England

"Hurry up Lizzie, or we will be late!" Mrs Bennet hustled her second eldest daughter up the stairs as she came in from her last shift. "How you can wear such clothes I do not know, they are most inappropriate."

"They are the clothes I work in mama." Elizabeth hurriedly ducked into her room, then closed the door before her mother could follow her in. Oh Ben! Elizabeth buried her face into her pillow and fought to control the tears which fell, she did not wish to go to this assembly, it seemed an anathema to be enjoying herself when Ben wasn't around to enjoy it as well, but then hadn't that been what Ben had wanted her to do? Laugh my Beth, laugh, for nothing will confuse the Hun more. Elizabeth smiled at the memory of Ben before their first assemebly, he had come into her room as she finished dressing and had scowled at the mirror while he tried to tie his tie so it did not look like a 'dog's breakfast' in his own elegant terms. Elizabeth hurried over to her wash stand and scrubbed her face energetically, she would wear her yellow gown tonight, the yellow gown with the forget-me-not blue trimming. She would smile, she would laugh, and she would get the reputation for being totally heartless, but Elizabeth cared not, Ben had said he did not want to be mourned with black crepe and trimmings, he wanted to be remembered through fun and laughter, to be remembered as the fine spring weather, the bright sunshine and the clear skies, not the dreary black grey of rain heavy skies in winter.

The simple knot, Elizabeth did not wish to fuss to much over her hair this evening, she would wear the simple knot. Elizabeth made these decisions as she changed out of her nursing uniform and into her evening dress. In other rooms Elizabeth could hear her mother shrieking almost hysterically at her sisters, the Bennet household and an assembly spelt chaos, a chaos that Elizabeth avoided as much as possible.

Twenty minutes later they had packed into the carriage and were rattling towards the assembly room.

The assembly hall was, as always, crowded. The windows were open because of the gas lighting, and the end result was the same as always, the room was stuffy and slightly chilly. The Netherfield party had yet to arrive when the Bennets arrived and Mrs Bennet's disappointment was evident to even the most imperceptive person.

"Lizzie!" It was Charlotte Lucas who came hurrying across the room. "You would not believe some of the stories that are circling the room about Lieutenant Bingley and his party, there is even talk that there is a Conscientious Objector among them."

"The last I heard from Lydia and Kitty was that there were to be five of his sisters and some cousin. Which is far too many woman and we are actually left in the dark about the gender of the cousin. I really cannot imagine Lieutenant Bingley living with six women and no male company, so either the cousin is male or our information is incorrect."

"Lieutenant Bingley is very handsome and most agreeable, Papa fears he may not be dancing because of his arm, but I do not believe that to be so. Lieutenant Bingley himself said that he intended to dance every dance until he could no longer feel his fingers. Which seems a peculiar thing to say. I wonder how much longer it will be before they arrive, for Papa has sworn not to start the dancing until they arrive."

"A grand entrance indeed." Elizabeth had been watching the courtyard for most of Charlotte's talk. "But fear not Charlotte, unless my eyes deceive me the Netherfield Motor has just pulled up outside."

"I do not believe that your eyes have deceived you, Papa beckons for me. I hope I may speak to you again later in the evening." Charlotte hurried away to stand by her father near the door. Elizabeth's eyes had not deceived her and within a short space of time the 'Netherfield Party' were ushered into the room.

They stood as a compact group, and the identity of Lieutenant Bingley was impossible to get wrong, he stood at the front of the group, his dress uniform faultless in its perfection, two woman stood on either side of him, and two other men brought up the rear of the party. The two women were dressed in the very latest fashions, and there was a slight arrogance in the manner in which they viewed the room, but Elizabeth had two admit that it was one of the men in the back of the party that caught her attention most and she was pretty sure he must have caught the attention of nearly everyone, if not everyone. The first of the gentlemen was of medium height and slightly portly in build, he was in the uniform of the home guard and his colouring would have been classed as rubicund, without doubt he had spent most of his life being over generous in his use of the bottle. The second gentleman on the other hand stood a head, and possibly a bit more above the rest of his party, his expression was that of slightly bored disinterest, but no fault could be found in the perfection of his evening dress, even to Elizabeth's untrained eye the coat appeared magnificent in its perfection. Thin lipped and a pale, tight-drawn face, his person fairly screamed of the aristocracy, Elizabeth found it cowardly that such a man should not even be in the home guard. The group stood there aloof from the assembly for nearly a whole minute, and then with a nervous gesture Bingley stepped forward to greet Sir William Lucas, but it was his left hand he offered for Sir William to shake, a move which could be missed by none.

"Something must be wrong with his right arm." Jane spoke softly from the position she had chosen to take next to Elizabeth's elbow.

"He was in to see Sister Oliver this afternoon, and one does not come to a hospital unless one is either visiting or injured, and one most certainly does NOT visit Sister Oliver to pass the time of day. From what I heard later it was nerve damage caused by shrapnel, and I think I'm right in saying that Folin stopped most of the rest of the shrapnel with the Major stopping what little missed Folin."

"You are too harsh on Sister Oliver, Lizzie. And how do you know all that?"

"Of course I'm too hard on her, she is the Chief Nurse at Weatherton Hospital and her duty is to make our lives hard. Leave me in peace to follow the traditions of Weatherton Hospital." Elizabeth gave a decided nod, then crossed her fingers in hopes that Jane would take the hint and drop the subject. "As for knowing all that information Lieutenant Bingley told Papa when he came the other day."

"I thought it had become Netherfield Hospital? That was very nice of him." Jane did not like it very much when she had to make double responses, she was always sure that she would be misunderstood.

"It has." Elizabeth grimaced. "Nearly half the mail for the hospital ends up at the Park and then Barner has to come and deliver it to us. Even a few telegrams ended up at Netherfield Park. It is most annoying."

"Lizzie, have you seen Mr Darcy's cane?" Lydia came bounding up giggling excitedly.

"Who is Mr Darcy, Lydia?" Elizabeth frowned bewilderment.

"He is the very tall gentleman in that frightful evening jacket. Why he cannot wear a uniform I do not know. No man in his right senses would wear anything but a military uniform."

"Then by your ratings Mr Darcy is not in his senses."

"But have you seen his cane?" Lydia returned impatiently to her first question.

"Yes Lydia, I have seen Mr Darcy's cane, but I do not see the importance of an ebony cane with a silver head."

"Well he also wears a monocle, now do you understand what I mean?"

"Well it all sounds decidedly affected if you ask me. Come Jane, Mama beckons." Elizabeth led her sisters over to where her mother was beckoning impatiently.

"You took your time in coming Lizzie. Jane straighten your hair. Lizzie how could you wear that dress, it is not at all proper. No Lydia, don't fiddle, you look perfect already."

"Mama my bow is crooked." Lydia jabbed in annoyance at the bow on her dress, then looked slightly sullen as she was told to go dance with someone else for Lieutenant Bingley was coming to be introduced.

"Smile girls." Mrs Bennet's final rejoinder was hissed as Sir William approached with Lieutenant Bingley.

"Mrs Bennet, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth. What a splendid evening this is. Please, permit me to introduce Lieutenant Bingley to you."

"A pleasure, but we are already acquainted with Mr Bingley." Mrs Bennet dropped a slight and stiff curtsey.

"Well then I'll leave you to it." Sir William gave his jovial and inimitable laugh, which reminded Elizabeth of a breying donkey, and went away to see to his other guests. Sir William was more than a little satisfied with this evening, for Lieutenant Bingley had danced with his daughter first, not with one of the incomparable elder Miss Bennets, though there was very little probability of Miss Bennet not taking the next dance with the handsome Lieutenant.

"Who is your friend Lieutenant?" Mrs Bennet glanced enquiringly over Bingley's shoulder, as Bingley started to move off with Jane for his dance, this caused Bingley to turn sharply.

"Oh, that's......that's my friend Mr Darcy?" Bingley looked a trifle self-conscious and Elizabeth was more than a little surprised to observe Bingley cast Darcy an appologetic glance.

"How do you do, Mr Darcy." Mrs Bennet was gushing, for all had heard of the 10,000 pounds which were supposedly possed by Mr Darcy every annum.

"Very well, madam." The response was icey and detached.

"Do you care to dance like your friend?" Mrs Bennet never let go any possible chance to connect her daughters to the wealthy.

"No madam, I but rarely dance." He bowed stiffly and walked away, leaving Bingley to look even more self-conscious and to cast a slightly appologetic glance at Mrs Bennet. Friend Bing was without doubt a peacemaker, Elizabeth thought, but that was perfectly in accord with Folin's description of his fellow officer.

"Perhaps not so handsome, Mama." Elizabeth gave a gentle stir, in hopes of avoiding being taken to task for not having smiled nicely enough.

"No, indeed, most ill-favoured." Mrs Bennet sniffed her disgust and moved away to gossip with her friend Mrs Long. Elizabeth was relieved to move away, even though this merely sent her into the waiting arms of Mr Nod, a small landowner on the far side of Meryton from Longbourn.

After a dance with Mr Nod, and a few dances with some other people, Elizabeth finally had a free dance, and chose to pass it concealed behind a fairly large shrub of some variety, she had seen the reverend Collins enter, and was in no hurry to renew her acquaintance with his ability on the dancing floor, a pleasure she had managed to avoid for the past six months.

"S.....Darcy, is something the matter?" Lieutenant Bingley's voice sounded nearby and caused Elizabeth to look up from her sanctuary. Mr Bingley was standing next to his friend, who had propped himself in a most bored manner against a nearby bit of wall and from that position been observing the room in silence.

"No Bingley, nothing is the matter."

"Then why don't you dance, there are plenty of beautiful woman in this room."

"You are dancing with the only truely beautiful woman in the room."

"But she has a sister who is also quite good looking, not to say beautiful." Elizabeth suddenly found herself at the receiving end of a very sharp scrutiny.

"She looks well enough, but she is sitting this dance out, I don't touch items slighted by other men."

"You are to fastidious Darcy, 'pon my word, I never kne...." Bingley stopped dead and his ears turned scarlet, Elizabeth was not sure but she felt that mr Darcy must have done something, for she could not see his face.

"Take a hint Bingley, I do not wish to dance with anyone."

"But, s.....Darcy, you can't be serious." Bingley now sounded injured, and Elizabeth observed the muscles on Mr Darcy's back contract in what she assumed was annoyance.

"No, since you won't take the hint I'll be brutal, I will not dance because I do not feel like it."

"But..." Bingley didn't even finish this particular appeal. Elizabeth didn't know what happened, but Bingley suddenly flushed scarlet. "Sorry, I forgot."

"So I observed." The response was absolutely icey. Bingley gave a slight shrug as he turned and went in hunt of Jane again. Elizabeth stood up and hurried across to where Charlotte was standing, she would even brave the possibility of having to dance with the reverend Collins in order to share this joke with Charlotte. It was absolutely priceless, and if she didn't share it with someone she would probably end up feeling offended, though Elizabeth had to admit that Charlotte was only the second best option, the best option for sharing such a joke with was not present tonight and never would be present again.

Darcy blinked in surprise as Elizabeth hurried past him, her expression was mischieviously gleeful, like a kid who had just been handed a special treat. He was infact familiar with the expression as he had frequently seen the expression on another face, which was curiously like, yet unlike, this face. He watched in silence as Elizabeth skirted through the crowd, she obviously had a definite target for she never paused and never looked around. Not only his leg prevented Mr Darcy from dancing, though that was indeed a very deciding factor, he knew that if he had one dance outside his group he would be expected to have others and that was precisely what he wished to avoid. He had found, exactly as Parker had warned, a very poisonous society of the half-baked humanity. Nervous cringers who were either grovellingly obsequious or exceedingly insulting, they used long words without knowing the exact meaning, they prattled on about their souls and about books from Russia, Austria, Turkey and other outlandish places. They condemned the war with high sounding phrases and complex socialistic generalisations. They talked about using totally unuseable diplomacy with which to terminate the war, they gave reasons for the behaviour of Germany and the Austro-Hungarian Empire. They talked art and literature by the hour and prattled on about each other, one need not answer with more than a grunt or unintelligible mumble, they talked and prattled, they did not discuss. 'The attenuated situation concerning the claim of ophidian consanguinity to auriferous concatenations' when Darcy heard that he knew he would just have to attend these meetings, with a subject like that it promised to either be excessively boring, or worth a laugh for his cousin. What Elizabeth had found amusing in what had passed between him and Bingley somewhat puzzled Darcy, infact thinking back Darcy could find a lot to offend, but certainly nothing to amuse. The fact that Elizabeth had been amused was absolutely unquestionable for she seemed to be nearly killing herself with laughter as she spoke to Miss Lucas, and also without doubt was the fact that he was the subject of conversation since both were looking at him when they were not looking at each other. Darcy cast a worried glance at his clothes, one because it was in character with the role he had given himself, and two because he was somewhat afraid that his brace might have become visible. But there was no problem with his attire and his brace was certainly not noticeable, Darcy then looked away, determined to ignore the two young women, but one thing nagged the back of his mind. Was Miss Elizabeth Bennet just following her brother's requests by this gaiety and cheerfulness, or was she genuinely unaffected by the death of her brother? Certainly the rest of her family, or those of them that were in attendance, were obviously not much affected by the situation, and Bingley had been slightly surprised by the lack of emotion shown by Mr Bennet. Darcy on the other hand was not surprised by Mr Bennet's response, he had heard a fair amount about the career of Colonel Bennet and he would have been surprised if the man had shown any more emotion then Bingley said he had. In fact Colonel Bennet was one man Darcy would rather like to know in a professional capacity, he expected nothing but disgust from the man given his present 'occupation', but that didn't prevent wishful thinking.

"Oh Mr Bennet, you should have been there, it was such a wonderful assembly. Jane was so admired." Mrs Bennet was hardly through the door before she began her commentary. "And Mr Bingley was absolutely entranced by her, he danced with her twice in the process of the entire evening. Nearly everyone claimed that Jane was beautiful, and indeed I don't think I've ever seen her looking better. Mr Bingley danced first with Charlotte Lucas, did I ever observe that Sir William Lucas is a crafty and conniving individual? He danced with Jane for the second, then with Miss King, an altogether horrid person, did you know she has freckles Mr Bennet? He then danced with Mariah Lucas, Mariah has promise, but she will never be equal to Jane. Then he danced with Jane again, he asked no one else to dance twice, after that he asked Lizzie to dance, I cannot think why, but nevertheless he did. After that he danced with...." Mrs Bennet was at this point interrupted in her catalogue of whom Mr Bingley had danced with.

"Enough! If he had any compassion for me he would never even turned up."

"Well if you're going to be like that about it." Mrs Bennet gave a sniff of disapproval. "His sisters were indeed very fine, I have never seen such elegant ladies before nor met such charming ones. Why the lace of Mrs Hurst's dress....."

"No lace, no finery. Mrs Bennet please learn that the attire of people does not interest me in the faintest."

"Then you would have been delighted in the company of Mr Darcy. Such and odious man, he spoke hardly a word to anyone and wasn't in any uniform at all."

"No uniform Mrs Bennet?" Mr Bennet looked up in surprise at that.

"No, he was in an evening suit. I will admit that long tails really do make a coat, but a coat does most certainly not make a man. Why he slighted Lizzie, said he would not dance with her when she was sitting out. Such an odious man, he remained almost stationary for the entire evening....."

"Slighted my Lizzie did he?"

"Yes, Lizzie, if I were you I would never dance with the man. I wish you had been there to give him one of your set downs, Mr Bennet, I so despise a man who will not dance."

"I can assure you mama, even though I doubt he will ever ask me, I will most certainly not dance with him." Elizabeth then bade her father goodnight and left the room, she currently was on the day shift and she had no wish to be too tired. Mrs Bennet drifted around the library for a few more minutes speaking of the ball, then quite suddenly decided to retire for the night and marched off with Kitty and Jane, leaving mr Bennet to snuff the lights and finish locking up the house.

November 23rd 1915-Meryton, England

The note had been delivered to the breakfast table, and Elizabeth quite frankly doubted that it could have been delivered at more inopportune moment since the claims of Mr Collins were being discussed at the time.

"What is it Jane? Who is it from? What do they say?" The note was barely opened before Mrs Bennet began her barrage of questions.

"It is from Miss Bingley." Jane had immediately looked to the bottom of the page on opening it.

"What does she say, child, what does she say?"

"She invites me to have tea with them, for the gentlemen are to dine with the officers and she wants me to save her and Louisa from quarreling."

"The Officers?" Lydia pouted. "Why did aunt Phillips not say that the officers were to be dining out?"

"Mama, papa, might I please borrow the carriage to go to Netherfield?" Jane looked pleadingly at her mother.

"No, I'm afraid your father needs the horses today, you'll have to take your bicycle I'm afraid. Such a pity it looks like it will rain, and then you must stay the night." Mrs Bennet's expression flickered between mocksorrow and satisfaction.

"But mama I have shift work at Meryton tomorrow morning." Jane looked absolutely horrified and Elizabeth didn't blame her, for there would not be enough time to ride home, change and get back to Meryton hospital before the morning shift unless she left Netherfield at a thoroughly uncivilised hour, she was more likely to cause offence. And neither could Jane take the necessary clothes with her to Netherfield. "Surely I can borrow the carriage papa?"

"At worst I am sure the Mr Bingley will be more then pleased to lend you the Netherfield motor to get home Jane." Mr Bennet settled back into his paper leaving Jane to sink helplessly into her chair. One hour later Jane was to be seen riding out the gates of Longbourn followed by shrieks of her mother's advice. Elizabeth retreated to her room and her bed as soon as Jane had departed, she had night shift for the next week and it would not do if she was too tired to begin with. Elizabeth slept for about an hour, then woke to see it raining heavily outside, and with a moan she rolled over for there was little doubt that Jane was caught in the shower and Elizabeth was worried about what the result would be.

The day crept slowly past in miserable rain and Elizabeth had to prepare for her shift at the hospital, she spent a large section of the afternoon trying to get the generator for her lamp attached to her bicycle. The generator was a temperamental device which seemed to have a marked dislike for wet weather and in the end Elizabeth had to remove it entirely and replace it with the kerosene lamp, which was only slightly more reliable. Elizabeth then put a change of boots, socks and trousers into her pack before putting her pack on, it was with some difficulty that Elizabeth managed to fit her oilskins over the hunchback her pack gave her, and once they were on she found that her arm movements were somewhat limited. Elizabeth left early for her shift for the simple reason that she knew she would have an awful clean-up before she was respectable after the eight miles ride in this weather. The night passed in quietness, nothing exciting happened at all and Elizabeth was more then a little relieved when the shift ended.

Nine o'clock saw her skidding in the gates of Longbourn, where she was met with a note from Jane, for Jane had a cold if not something worse, would Elizabeth please bring some essentials over as soon as possible. Elizabeth waited just long enough to consume two slices of toast, an egg, a mug of coffee, and to gather together some essentials for Jane before she remounted her bicycle and headed for Netherfield.

It was still raining from the day before and as a result the roads were a slurry of mud, which made them a liability to ride on. As she headed towards Netherfield, slithering and sliding all over the small path, Elizabeth had a mental grimace for her trousers would have ridden 19 miles in the foulest of Hertfordshire weather. Though with luck she might manage to clean off some of the mud before she entered the house.

Elizabeth descended the last slope to Netherfield in a side on skid, her breaks had been rendered totally useless by the water and clogged by the mud. Elizabeth was halfway through the wilderness that bounded that side of Netherfield when her progress was halted by one of the biggest and hairiest dogs Elizabeth had ever seen. It had positioned itself directly in her path, and short of leaving the path altogether Elizabeth could see no way around it. The Netherfield Wilderness however did not encourage one to leave the path, so Elizabeth was left in a deadlock with the dog, which was not showing any signs of moving aside for her. The thought of calling that mound of canine flesh 'doggie' was thoroughly inappropriate for Elizabeth, but neither did she know its name, which left her no options, the dogs Elizabeth was used to were Old Tom's dogs and they were sheep dogs, responding a lot more readily to hand signals then vocal instructions.

"Dougal!" The first yell was faint, but who ever was calling was rapidly approaching as the next call was considerably louder. "Dougal!" The dog shifted slightly, but no where near enough for Elizabeth to pass. "Dougal!" The next call caused the dog to look away, Elizabeth wasn't sure, but she'd almost have called the look apprehensive. "Dougal you damn sod where are ye." The dog was now looking thoroughly uncomfortably, Elizabeth was pretty positive that the dog's name was Dougal. "Dougal if the master was to lay a finger on thee a'm asure he'll skelp ye. Speak up lad, or I skelp ye before he has a chance." The dog now seemed to give Elizabeth a pleading look before opening its mouth and issuing a short bark. "Ashore lad, that'll probably save your hide. Dang dog, you would be in the wilderness. Damn it all." There was a string of fluent invective and the speaker suddenly came into sight. "Oh! Ma'am, I do beg your pardon. Dougal, yah big mutt get thee gone to the stables." The dog cast one last glance at Elizabeth before he fled. "I take it you have not taken harm ma'am?" The man's accent vanished as if he had never had it, but he was clearly badly out of breath.

"No, he had merely delayed me. Thankyou for removing him." Elizabeth nodded briefly then headed towards Netherfield again. Elizabeth was highly conscious of the mess her appearance was when she was shown into the breakfast parlour where all but Jane were assembled, she had infact tried to avoid the breakfast parlour, but she was not really given the option. The fact that she was there so early in the morning and in such dirty weather seemed to astonish to the verge of horrifying the room.

"You have arrived have alone have you Miss Elizabeth?" Miss Bingley was clearly shocked by the idea, but she could not take her eyes from Elizabeth's trouser legs, which were carrying a quantity of mud and water and sticking to her legs somewhat from the knee downwards.

"I have Miss Bingley, it was no problem and had the effect of my sister's stuff arriving soon. May I enquire as to the health of my sister?" Elizabeth could feel her cheeks heating slightly and she hoped it wasn't visible.

"We had Dr Ownes in to see her before his shift at the Netherfield Hospital last night. He did not seem to think there was anything to fear, though he did advise a few days in bed." Bingley had risen as she entered and now crossed to her side, Elizabeth noted with a flicker of annoyance that though Mr Hurst managed to make it to his feet to acknowledge her presence Mr Darcy had merely nodded and returned to his breakfast.

"Dr Ownes is a good enough authority to assure me. Could I be permitted to see her." There was nothing Elizabeth wanted more then to get out of that charged atmosphere.

"Certainly Miss Elizabeth." Bingley led her from the room, and Elizabeth was delighted to be out from under those critical eyes. The shock of the two sisters and Mr Hurst had been almost palpable, and Mr Darcy had positively been radiating disapproval, the only comfort she had found was in Mr Bingley's kindness and friendliness. Jane was very feverish, and the feel made Elizabeth slightly unhappy and she certainly raised no objections when Bingley suggested that they send for a doctor.

"Drs. Harren, and Morn are currently off shift and could be contacted at Widow Berns' house."

"Thankyou, I'm sorry your sister should be in such condition." Bingley hastily retreated from the room and went to the telephone before returning to the breakfast room to finish his breakfast. After breakfast was over the two sisters ascended to visit Jane for a few hours, then retired again. Their kindness to Jane caused Elizabeth to review her opinion of them somewhat, maybe Jane had been right, maybe they had just been nervous.

Dr Harren, who had responded to Bingley's call, backed up Dr Ownes diagnoses that the situation was merely a heavy cold, he would have some medication sent over from the hospital. After Dr Harren left Elizabeth took advantage of Jane's dozy condition to catch a bit of sleep, but by three she realised she would have to go and quite deliberately put herself to bed or she would be too tired tonight. Elizabeth descended to the lower floors where she found the entire household engaged in a variety of entertainments. There were instant requests after the condition of Jane's health, but to all Elizabeth gave a fairly depressing response, Jane was far from well, but at the same time she admitted she must go home. Miss Bingley instantly offered her the loan of the Netherfield Motor since the weather was still so bad, and it took very little to convince Elizabeth to accept the offer, however Jane was as vocal as she could be in protesting against Elizabeth's departure so Bingley promptly changed it into an invitation to stay until Jane was well enough to return home. Elizabeth hesitated somewhat over accepting this offer.

"You have a problem with accepting Miss Bennet?" It was Mr Darcy who asked the question while she hesitated, and he hardly lifted his head when he asked it. Darcy had absolutely no problem with fooling Caroline, for Caroline had not seen him is seven years and knew absolutely nothing about the human anatomy, but Elizabeth on the other hand had shown quite a considerably knowledge of human anatomy and if Darcy feared anyone was able to blow his cover he would have instantly pointed to the two eldest Miss Bennets. To be entirely honest he was hoping to antagonise Miss Elizabeth into not staying, but she took it the wrong way, much to Darcy's annoyance.

"In a way yes for I am currently on the night shift at Netherfield hospital." Elizabeth shifted her hands awkwardly.

"Nash can watch your sister during the night if that is what concerns you, he watched her last night as well."

"That actually wasn't the problem. My problem lies in the fact that I am on shift from eight in the evening to eight in the morning. I require at least four hours sleep if I am to survive the night. I have had approximately one so far today."

"We have dinner at six here, which gives you approximately three hours, I expect we can manage to watch her."

"I'm sure that won't be necessary unless you wish to do so. Could I possibly speak to Mr Nash?"

"He's just Nash, he's my Valet." Darcy's response was curt.

"Nevertheless I should like to thank him for the services he rendered my sister last night."

"You'll find him in the servant quarters." Darcy shrugged in bored disinterest. Elizabeth left the room and glared at the door to vent her feelings. Insufferable man, he might be your valet but that certainly didn't make him an inanimate object. After questioning the butler, a footman, and a housemaid, Elizabeth finally obtained enough directions to find Mr Nash.

"Mr Nash?" The man rose cautiously from his chair in response to her question and looked at her gravely.

"Nash Miss. What can I do for you?"

"Nothing." Something was nagging at the back of Elizabeth's mind, something about the way he had risen, and the way he had moved earlier. "I merely wished to thank you for the services you rendered my sister last night."

"It was no problem Miss, I was up for the whole night anyway."

"Nevertheless thankyou very much." Elizabeth excused herself hurriedly and climbed up the stairs. Elizabeth curled up in the large armchair in the corner of Jane's room and quickly fell asleep, if she wasn't woken by Jane before six, she expected that something else would wake her.

Darcy sat quietly on his bed staring blankly at the wall. Grauße's Atmung, Grauße's Breathing, it made no sense at all, but then HE1 made even less sense. Andrea would not leave an unsolveable riddle behind, those notes were not for himself, Andrea had been expecting what eventually occured, those notes had been to inform any who might follow as much as possible without spelling everything out. But what use Parker really thought he would be was a question that was occupying Darcy almost as much as the actual problem itself. Darcy still hadn't the faintest idea who his contact here was, and as a result he still knew nothing more about what actually happened here beyond what Parker had told him, and the fact that a certain Miss Lydia Bennet had discovered the remains. Darcy had seen enough of miss Lydia to know that he was not very interested in enlarging his acquaintance with that particular person.

A soft rustle was the first hint Darcy had that Nash was in the room.

"Hello Nash, take a seat."

"It is five-thirty sir."

"Oh is it? I must have fallen asleep, for I certainly haven't spent two hours thinking."

"No sir, you have been awake and staring at that wall the whole time."

"What a nice piece of news to hand me. I suppose I'd better change for dinner, wouldn't do for me to be seen in this coat again, it's somewhat wrinkled."

"I think you should take Dougal out tomorrow, he does not listen to me and I certainly was never strong enough to manage him."

"I'm sorry Nash, sort of forgot that Dougal ignores the majority of the human race." Darcy swung around and cautiously lowered his feet to the floor before pulling himself to his feet with the aid of his cane and Nash. "I think the biggest problem is standing up." Darcy grabbed a bed post to stabilise himself as he released Nash. It took Darcy a good twenty minutes to change, and his temper was somewhat heated by the time he had finished.

"If you'll excuse me, sir. I think I had better see if Miss Bennet has woken, she will be wishing to change I expect." Nash slid out of the room, having first ascertained that Darcy had all his paraphernalia near at hand. Darcy collected the miscellaneous items which lived in his pockets and finally departed from the room, he paused outside his door then on a sudden decision he turned and walked to Miss Jane Bennet's room. He knocked softly, then let himself into the room. The room was shrouded in gloom as no lights had been lit and the curtains were drawn. It took him a minute to adjust his eyes to the gloom, Miss Bennet was sleeping restlessly in the large bed and to his surprise Darcy saw Elizabeth curled up in the large armchair by the window. Darcy paused briefly, then stepped across to give her a brief shake, stopped just before he shook and applied gentle pressure below her left ear, there was always the possibility that she might cry out when she woke and Darcy was unwilling for that, and this other method ensured she was not startled while waking.

Elizabeth blinked, shook her head and peered into the gloom, then blinked again. That she had woken was without question, that someone had touched her was also without question, but who it was Elizabeth still could not see, then there was a brief flash of silver.

"Mr Darcy." Elizabeth sat up and stretched, conscious that she was very stiff and somewhat cramped from sleeping in the chair.

"It is thirty minutes until dinner Miss Elizabeth, I think you should change if you have a change of clothes with you." Darcy meant no insult by the remark, but he was aware that she had arrived on bicycle, in foul weather, and she had already been carrying clothes for her sister.

"Thankyou mr Darcy, my father delivered some clothes I expect." Elizabeth scrambled out of her chair and departed the room, decidedly miffed that Mr Darcy should question whether she had a change of clothes. Admittedly she had not had a change of clothes when she arrived, but surely he did not expect that the hospital would permit her to work with injured men when she had mud all over her clothes.

Darcy watched her go, then cast a quick glance at Jane, the fever still held. It would probably be a week or more before Jane would be well enough to depart Netherfield. With a brief shake of his head Darcy turned and left the dim room, the trip downstairs was, as it had been since his arrival and probably would continue to be for some weeks to come, a trial that tested him high, and infact Darcy had only just made it to the dining room before Elizabeth entered herself. Elizabeth had merely changed into her other uniform, completely ignoring the two gowns her mother had sent as well, and as a result she appeared as a mud free version of her arrival that morning. The meal passed in relative silence for Elizabeth, she was seated next to Mr Hurst, who had nothing to say to her after he found out that she prefered a plain dish to ragout. Miss Bingley addressed herself solely to mr Darcy for the majority of the meal. Except for the initial enquiries from everyone around the table as to Jane's health no one said anything to Elizabeth, for Mr Bingley was seated to far away from her.

Elizabeth had the satisfaction of resuming her former cordial dislike of the two sisters, for after their effusive inquiries into Jane's health and explaining how excessively they disliked being ill they had turned aside and completely forgotten the matter.

After dinner Elizabeth retreated back up to Jane's room, she wanted to see her sister once more before leaving for the hospital, and she had to change back into her dirty trousers and socks and repack her clean ones.

"Lizzie." Jane's voice called softly as Elizabeth came into the room after a hairbrush.

"Yes Jane?" Elizabeth hurriedly started to brush her hair down before plaiting it and pining it up again.

"Do be careful."

"I am always careful Jane, even more so when the weather is this bad."

"I didn't actually mean that."

"I'm well aware, but if you expect me to always mind my manners with Mr Darcy all I will respond is forget it. The man has come to every single social event we have had with an air of long-suffering patience, he has propped himself in a corner within five minutes of arriving and never moved between then and departure. Okay, okay, he does move occasionally." Elizabeth amended her remark when Jane lifted a doubtful eyebrow. "But not nearly enough, he speaks to nobody unless they start speaking, and then he treats them like he finds it impertinent." Elizabeth gave a soft growl and resumed stuffing things into her pack.

"Lizzie it is not his fault, permit people to have their own opinions. You complain enough yourself about some of the people here abouts, do not get cross at other people who do so as well. He probably has a good reason for being what he is." Jane's voice reproved quietly.

"Jane you are far to good for this world. I admit it, I object to the fact that mr Darcy is alive and Folin is not. I object to the fact that he has hidden behind beauracracy and legal finangling while people like Folin are getting so thoroughly blown apart that there isn't even enough of them left to be buried. Mr Darcy is a perfectly able man who is as arrogant and proud as they come." Elizabeth finished packing her back. "And now I am leaving immediately so I do not say something I might really regret. Sleep well Jane, mr Nash said he would see to any needs you might have during the night and I will be back at a quarter to nine tomorrow morning." Elizabeth shouldered her pack then slid quietly out of the room.

Miss Bingley barely waited until the door closed behind Elizabeth before she began abusing her. Her manners were pronounced to be very bad indeed, a mixture of pride and impertinence; she had no conversation, no style, no taste and no beauty.

"She has nothing infact to commend herself than that she is an excellent walker. I am sure I will never forget her appearance this morning, she appeared almost wild." Mrs Hurst quite agreed with her sister.

"She did indeed, Louisa. I could hardly keep my countenance. Very nonsensical to come at all, what are servants for but to save us from going out into foul weather. Why must she be scampering about in such weather, because her sister had a cold? Her hair so untidy, so blowsy."

"Yes, and her trousers, sister." Louisa grimaced artistically. "I really cannot stand a woman wearing trousers, there was so much mud on them I barely knew where mud left off and trouser began."

"Your picture may be exact Louisa, but I thought Miss Elizabeth Bennet looked remarkably well when she entered this morning, her muddy condition quite escaped my notice, but maybe that is because I am used to being so muddy that you could not tell where the mud ended and the person started." Bingley's remark was quite sharp and to any observer it might have been noted that he was not at all happy with the topic of conversation.

"You observed it I am sure, Mr Darcy." Miss Bingley had no intention of dropping such an enjoyable topic, no matter what her brother might think. "I'm sure that you would not approve of your sister making such an exibition of herself."

"Certainly not." Darcy would have indeed been very shocked if he had been told that his sister had been riding over the country in foul weather. Well stunned might be a more appropriate word, but nevertheless, the idea of Georgiana riding anywhere would have surprised him, no matter what the weather was like.

"To walk three miles, or four miles, or five miles, or whatever it is, above her ankles in dirt and alone, quite alone! What can she mean by it? It seems to me to show an abominable sort of conceited independence, a most countrified disregard for decency and decorum. One wonders that her family allow it." Miss Bingley's expression registered as resigned pity.

"I think it shows an affection for her sister which is pleasing." Bingley had no intention of sitting around while listening to the Bennets being shredded, and from the tension in Darcy's shoulders Bingley knew that Darcy wasn't particularly thrilled by it either.

"I am afraid, Mr Darcy," Miss Bingley made her observation in a half whisper which could be heard by the whole room. "That your admiration for her fine eyes will have been affected by this adventure."

"Correct Miss Bingley, it has served to heighten my admiration since her eyes were brightened by the exercise. As for her having walked anywhere, I fear your figures are incorrect. Nash informed me that she arrived on a bicycle, and if her earlier remark is anything to go by I would assume that she arrived here within two hours of having ended shift at Netherfield Hospital. I would therefore presume that she had infact ridden eleven miles, possibly more in the trousers which you so deplore." There was a moments silence following Darcy's blighting speech, then Louisa spoke up.

"I personally am rather fond of Jane, such a sweet girl, I wish she were well settled. But with such low connections it is unlikely."

"I have heard it said that their uncle is the attorney in Meryton."

"Yes, and I've heard that another lives in Cheapside."

"Cheapside?" Bingley wasn't sure if he had heard right.

"Yes, or so I have heard. Why do you ask brother?"

"Just a memory that's all." Bingley wasn't about to explain why he had asked, and he calmly left his sisters to their merriment at the expense of their claimed friend's relatives.

"Not good relatives, but the family is worse. Poor Jane, to have such a family, one would think that the brother would at least do something since the father won't. Maybe you should speak to him Mr Darcy, I'm sure he would listen to your wise council."

"That will do Louisa!" Bingley's voice snapped out with an accustomed harshness causing the sisters to jump slightly. Bingley had risen as he snapped out the order, and though he addressed his sisters he kept a close eye on Darcy's tense back. Darcy himself was apparently reading a newspaper.

"Is something the matter, brother?" Miss Bingley looked puzzled, admittedly Charles had not seemed particularly happy about the topic of conversation, but there were very few topics that Charles did like.

"I put the basis of that remark down to ignorance for I do not believe that either of my sisters could be so maliciously inclined. But please, feel free to correct me if I am wrong. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." Bingley turned and left the room, his left hand was rubbing his right collarbone in an agitated manner. Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst stared at the closed door in bewilderment, they had obviously said something wrong, but what?

"Mr Darcy, could you tell us what we said wrong?" Miss Bingley turned to mr Darcy, not actually expecting an answer, but one never knew.

"You obviously have not been paying much attention, either of you, to the general news of this town. You have heard the Bennet referred to on several occasions now, and you have correctly connected him to being the son of the family of which Miss Bennet is a member of. What you seemed not to have noticed is that the same Bennet is always referred to in the past tense, never in the present tense. Lieutenant Folin Kirth Bennet, heir to the family estate of Longbourn became a statistic on the 13th of October at the Loos cross-roads. Whether you like the information or not your brother owes his life to that same Bennet, I advise you watch what you say on the subject.....I dislike war myself, but that doesn't mean I deplore the actions of those who choose to be involved, and even less do I disapprove of feeling indepted to the person, or the family of the person who saved your life. Now if you will excuse me, I too have work that has been neglected." Darcy pushed out of his chair as he finished speaking and walked calmly out the door, leaving the two sisters to look at each other in embarrassed silence. Unless they wanted to be kicked out of the house they were going to have to make peace with their brother, and make it before he went to bed. The one thing to be noted about Charles was that he could never hold a grudge......or at least not if you managed to catch him before he retired to bed for the night. Let him sleep on it and you could be in his bad books for days and weeks if not months.

Continued in Next Section