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November 14th 1917-St Mark's, France

Gravitation cannot be held responsible for people falling in love. - Albert Einstein

"Oh damn." Elizabeth swore with a lot of feeling, much to the surprise of her husband.

"Something the matter?" Darcy looked down at her in concern.

"Yes." Elizabeth bent down and rubbed at her leg. "I've got mud on these trousers, now I'm going to have to change before my next shift."

"Oh Elizabeth, I adore you."

"Yeek!" Elizabeth only partially stifled the shriek as Darcy lifted her up into the air. "David! Put me down."

"Yes madam." Darcy promptly started to lower her, but kissed her before he finally placed her on the ground.

"Hurry up sir." Brigadier Mannering, who had been the best man for the service was standing by the door with Philadelphia, who had been the Bridesmaid.

"Coming Manners. You can hardly expect me to sprint from my own wedding." Darcy finally continued walking towards the church door.

"I never know what to expect of you sir, and I certainly wouldn't put it beyond you." Mannering nodded briefly then slipped through the doorway with Philadelphia right behind him.

"So much for respect for your senior officer." Darcy muttered the last remark as he started to push the heavy door open, only to utter a soft groan as soon as he could see out. Elizabeth was about to ask what the matter was when she saw passed him and out into the churchyard. No matter where she looked there were khaki clad men, big ones, small ones, seated ones and standing ones, it was a literal sea and as she looked a mighty cheer rose from the crowd.

"Well look 'oo's 'ere." The voice came from somewhere in the mass.

"Just happened to be passing Miles?" Darcy lifted a brow as he looked down at a Colonel who was lounging on the top step.

"You could hardly expect us to pass up the only chance we'll probably ever have of seeing your wife sir. Smile ma'am, there's about 7000 men here to wish you well, we're all mighty curious to see the woman who finally managed to distract our mighty Major."

"Elizabeth, this is Colonel Miles Holloway. Miles, meet Elizabeth Darcy."

"How do you do ma'am." Miles stood up and held out a callused hand.

"Very well thank you." Elizabeth gravely shook the hand, but she still had not moved out from behind Darcy.

"Hey! Carrie!" Miles turned and called softly, and in response to his call a Captain emerged from the crowd.

"Yes sir?" Captain Carrigan stood rigidly to attention.

"At ease, meet Elizabeth Darcy. Mrs. Darcy, meet Captain Carrigan. 'Ceptin for a couple tens of Privates and N.C.O.s we're the only members left in France of the original company. That is assuming that Ashie hasn't turned up for a look see."

"How do Mrs. Darcy. And no, Ashie wasn't coming for a look see, told me himself to give his 'commiserations...err...congratulations to the bride.' He couldn't make it due to some fuss or other in the Squadron."

"He wouldn't." Darcy spoke quietly, he was not at all surprised that Ashie had not come, and he was nearly willing to bet that there was no problem with the Cad's at all.

"Hey up lads!" Carrigan headed back down the steps and was soon lost to sight. "For he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good fe-e-llow, and so say all of us......." The noise of the singing was tremendous, and under the cover of it Elizabeth got a few questions in.

"Are they all your men?" In all directions they seemed to spread, a faceless sea.

"I certainly haven't seen any notable strangers." Darcy paused then waved a hand. "Brigadier Mannering you know, he's actually the younger brother of another Brigadier Mannering who I used to know. Brigadier Hazlitt you can see over there. There's Colonel Holloway and Colonel Maxton under Mannering, Hazlitt has Colonels Axelton and Forrest." Darcy indicated out into the crowd. "Then there's Lieutenant-Colonels Ackerman and Callister under Miles, Maxton has Shoemann and Haslen, Axelton has Gormann and Clearly, Forrest has Belton and Masterson. Majors and Captains, well Hacking, Sornly, Dellman, Bester, Manly, Hoster, Shagly, Monten, Shottley and Hazleforth. Would name them all for you, but it would take a while, there are sixty-four of them, two hundred and fifty six Lieutenants under them, if you want I'll give you a list later."

"Uhh." Elizabeth gurgled unintelligibly, it was then that she realised that she was leaning up against a ranking General, and exactly what that term meant. All the men who stood out there owed, to some degree or other, their lives to this man, and frankly, she was terrified.

"Hey, stop hiding her."

"I think they want to see you......do you want to see them? They're a pretty horrible mob." Darcy glanced back over his shoulder at her.

"Please don't leave me alone." Elizabeth peered nervously at the crowd.

"Excuse me for a second." Darcy waved a hand and Elizabeth found herself back inside the church with the door closed, Darcy gingerly lowered himself onto one of the pews, Elizabeth hesitated for a split second, then sat down next to him. "You don't have to do it Elizabeth, I can very easily just go out and give them marching orders, they'll all be gone inside of twenty minutes."

"But...." Elizabeth paused. "Do you want me to?"

"Of course I do, but that has absolutely no bearing on this current issue." Darcy hesitated. "Of course I'd like you to do it Elizabeth, they're my men, they've been my life for three years now, at least in part, they've been the family I never really had." Darcy shrugged. "But the fact remains that there are rather a lot of them. If you don't want to do it, don't......I can pacify them....I think."

"David, be quiet." Elizabeth clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Maybe I don't want to." Darcy's response was considerably muffled by the hand.

"Well if you don't I'm never going to get out that door." Elizabeth abruptly dropped her hand, gave Darcy a quick kiss and was heading quickly for the door. Darcy was on her heels immediately, and Elizabeth promptly reached back and took a firm grip of his hand. As Darcy pushed the door open he gave Elizabeth's hand a quick squeeze, then released it.

"Hooray!" The cheer rose up as Elizabeth appeared.

"Pleasure to see you ma'am." Miles Holloway was still lounging against the stairs and at this point he rose up and extended his hand once more.

"Pleasure to see you again Colonel Holloway." Elizabeth gravely shook the hand.

"Do you remember lowly Captains after all these pompous bigboys? Captain Carrigan at your service." Carrigan extended his hand as well.

"Ahh, the infamous Carrie." Elizabeth shook the hand with a grin. Carrigan tried to look offended, but ended up grinning.

"Even if I didn't know you were a Bennet that would most certainly have given you away." Carrigan turned his head slightly. "Major, can we borrow your wife for a minute?"

"Elizabeth?" Darcy lifted his brows enquiringly, Elizabeth looked blankly back at him, she did not understand what the enquiry was about. "I guess so Carrie, but upset her and the lot of you will face lavatory duties until the other side of eternity."

"Very good sir." Carrigan turned his head. "HI! Jordy!" A Lieutenant approached at the call, pushing his way forward.

"What's up?"

"Lend a hand."

"Right-ho." Jordy came up and Elizabeth didn't quite manage to stop her shriek as she abruptly found herself lifted up into the air, the result was a squeak of alarm. Elizabeth found herself settled on broad shoulders and being walked out through the crowd, and after a brief glance back at Darcy, who looked up from his conversation with one of his Brigadiers to give her a reassuring smile, Elizabeth finally turned her attention to being polite to the sea of men, and shaking hands until her hand felt like it was going to fall off.

"You done yet Carrie?" It wasn't until Darcy's voice came from directly behind them that Elizabeth realised he had left the church steps.

"Not quite sir, we have 3rd, 8th, and 17th platoons to go."

"Okay." Darcy dropped slightly back.

Twenty minutes later Elizabeth found herself restored to the church steps, where Darcy was continuing his previous conversation with the Brigadier. Elizabeth had no idea who the Brigadier was, but she wasn't left in the dark long.

"Elizabeth, make the acquaintance of Brigadier Hazlitt. Hazy, my wife Sister Elizabeth Darcy."

"How do you do ma'am." The hand which was extended was nearly as large as Darcy's, though the man attached was considerably shorter.

"Very well thank you." Elizabeth shook the hand with a grin. "I observe that you are given no holidays."

"No ma'am, a fearsome tyrant our Major."

"Insubordination Hazy." Darcy was shaking with suppressed laughter.

"Dismal ain't it." Hazlitt gave a grin. "I fear I'm the sinner here ma'am, I'm the one who introduced business into this place."

"Well if General Darcy objects to the move I'm sure he'll make you pay."

"I'm sure he will ma'am." Hazlitt gave another brief grin. "One day sir."

"Two." Darcy responded curtly. "Remember we're being shoved straight out on arrival, so you better get those maps read... Send Carrigan across to 83 to get an idea of the land."

"Very good sir." Hazlitt stepped back then retreated into the sea of men.

"Okay, form up and hop it." Darcy's yell caused Elizabeth to jump, but under her astonished gaze she watched as the mob of men seemed to wriggle and seethe and then separated in a most orderly manner into platoons, then into companies, then battalions, regiments, brigades, and finally with great neatness it formed into the 13th (Midlanders) Division all to the accompaniment of shrill whistles. "Hey!" Every head turned at the yell and the sea of khaki acquired a face once more. "Why can't you do it that nicely when on parade?"

"'Cause you don't get married that reg'lar, and there ain't a Lady to impress." The response was met by a loud roar of laughter and a major skuffle occurred in a nearby platoon.

"Okay, the lot of you hop it." Darcy slung an arm around Elizabeth's shoulders as they watched the men move off and down the road.

"Have they far to go?" Eliabeth frowned after them.

"Forty miles....they have to make camp before curfew." Darcy creased his brow slightly. "Though I will admit that if they weren't such an arrogant bunch they could probably cut it back by ten miles. It's a damnable shame that they so like strutting down the main road."

"Isn't that dangerous." Elizabeth followed Darcy around to the back of the church.

"Of course it is, that's why they do it. But never fear, they'll scatter at the first remote hint of an aeroplane, even if it is one of our own."

"You sound somewhat confident on the matter."

"I'd want to be. No matter what we might say Elizabeth it is our lives that we hold in question every minute, and every second of every day when we are in this country. A stray bit of metal could finish us completely, no matter what we say, what we feel, or even what we think....we will not run mindless risks. Melodrama is our way of life, it is life and breath to us, but above all else there are very few indeed of us that do not consider life paramount to all other concerns......with the exception of the time we spend bordering on a strip of mud called No-Man's-Land, when there is no consideration save kicking the...." Darcy abruptly caught himself and gave a slightly self-conscious grin. "Save to say that any man who is reported to me as behaving in a manner which endangers both himself and those around him has me to answer to."

"What...?" Elizabeth got no further for Darcy had exploded into laughter.

"The blighters." Darcy was bent nearly double with laughter.

"What are they?" Elizabeth eyed the rusty motor which Darcy had 'acquired' in true army fashion for their use for the day.

"Wedding presents. See if I don't hang the lot of them." Darcy doubled over again while Elizabeth curiously inspected the boxes.

"What do we do with them?"

"We swing past the camp around eight and set up shop." Darcy finally started recovering and started poking through the boxes. "I now observe that there are major advantages to having climbed the whole was up from the bottom...." Darcy paused uncertainly. "Can you drive Elizabeth, I'm afraid I'm going to make a godawful fool of myself and it certainly won't make me a reliable driver." Darcy's voice had tensed.

"David." Elizabeth caught one large hand and Darcy abruptly lifted his head and his eyes weren't dry.

"Forty miles Elizabeth, they walked forty miles to surprise us and wish us well and I'll swear that not a single man was forced to do it." Darcy's voice shook. "And the day after tomorrow we're being moved forward once more." Darcy abruptly pulled Elizabeth in and hugged her hard. "Thank you for talking to them, I can't tell you what it means to me."

"They're your men David, as much as they owe their lives to you, do you owe your life to them....how could I have you and yet ignore them?"

"My darling, how did I earn you?" But no answer came and some five minutes past before Elizabeth stirred and drew attention to the fact that they had only four hours before both of them had work to attend to.

"You don't want to spend the whole time standing in the churchyard so you?"

"True, I don't." Darcy helped Elizabeth into the motor before settling himself. Elizabeth had eyed Darcy thoughtfully for a moment and then calmly started the engine and moved off. Four Hours. Elizabeth took another nervous look at her husband. What if four hours was all the time there was? Elizabeth shivered and hastily forced the thought from her mind, Philadelphia said that such thoughts made destiny.

"What's wrong?" Darcy's voice abruptly broke through her thoughts and Elizabeth turned to look at him. "You're shivering almost constantly."

"I'm afraid." Elizabeth abruptly pulled the motor to the side of the road. "I'm afraid that four hours will be all the time there is."

"Elizabeth, I don't know why, or how, but there will be more than four hours. Trust me on that one, to you I will always return." Darcy gently pulled her across and into his arms.

"You've never lied before." It came inconsequentially, but both knew what it meant, Elizabeth was binding him by that remark, he might leave, but it would never be a permanent state of affairs.

November 23rd 1917-Ypres, France

Watch the stars, and from them learn.
To the Master's honor all must turn,
each in its track, without a sound,
forever tracing Newton's ground. - Albert Einstein

"Oh dear God in Heaven, and likewise Christ Almighty! Major will you please get the hell back out of this trench." It was a pallid faced Sergeant who abruptly grabbed Darcy by the arm.

"What's that Sergeant?" Darcy turned away from his inspection of a point further up the line and looked at the Sergeant.

"I do apologise Sir, but honestly, there's some 'plane about to crash near here."

"It will be about twenty yards short." Darcy gave a cursory glance at the incoming 'planes. The leading Camel was clearly crashing, the Fokker on its tail was equally clearly determined to finish the job properly.

"But Sir." It was almost an outraged howl from the Sergeant.

"Point Sergeant?"

"No sir." The Sergeant retreated with a glum expression and Darcy started to lift his telescope, only to lower it. His hands were shaking too violently to make holding it worthwhile.

"Private." Darcy turned to a nearby Private and gave a faint smile. "I want to borrow your rifle for a moment."

"Yes sir." The Private nervously handed over his weapon to Darcy. Darcy took careful aim at the Fokker, fired once, watched for a satisfied minute and then returned to watching the incoming Camel. The Fokker had abruptly dropped it's nose and was clearly going to crash in the near vicinity of the lines, the Pilot of the Camel was flattening out slightly....but the impact of the crash was still going to be horrendous.

"Peter." Darcy moved off down the fire trench as he spoke, completely disregarding the anguished howls of a couple of the nearby men.

"Who is it?" Peter did not speak until he had joined Darcy hunched down at the far end of the Fire Trench. Peter might not have understood what was precisely going on, but he knew when something was wrong.

"It's Ashie." Darcy spoke softly his eyes tracking the descent of the 'plane. "I don't think he's dead yet, but he's clearly not alive." Darcy frowned and started easing forward out of the cover of the trench, Peter was close on his heels, there would only be a small window in which to get to the crash before the German Batteries would perfect their range, the shells were already becoming thicker.

"He's down." Peter's soft remark was fairly useless, it wasn't half obvious the Camel was down, the wing had driven into the mud at the last moment before it touched down and the Camel pivoted viciously around the wingtip before cartwheeling along its flat axis and slamming back down into the mud. "Hell." Peter muttered softly and then kicked into the mud and dove out of the trench as he realised that Darcy was already halfway to the wreck.

"Anyone alive in there?" Peter heard Darcy's query as he slithered through an old shell hole.

"I dunno." The response was only just audible as Peter crashed into the 'plane itself.

"Careful Peter. What's up?" Darcy broke a few struts as he asked the question.

"Terribly sorry Major, you shouldn't been here......bastard got me properly, wastin' your time trying to get me out." The voice had died away slightly and was now little more than a thready whisper.

"Don't be pathetic.....know where he got you?" Darcy ripped clear the last strut and shoved his head and shoulders into the wreck.

"Somewhere in my back. Honestly Major...."

"Shut up before I clout you." Darcy made use of a vicious looking knife to hack away the harness, helmet and goggles. Darcy then turned his head aside and spat hard, a near miss by a shell had given him a mouthful of mud. "Peter get back to the trench and tell Miles I want a distraction."

"Yes sir." Peter wriggled frantically back to the trench and found Miles within a quarter minute, it was actually more of Miles finding Peter though.

"Where's the Major?" Miles had grabbed Peter's arm as he scurried past.

"Out there....he wants a distraction."

"Who is it?"

"Ashie." Peter wiped his forehead and shot a nervous glance at the crash, just as it took a direct hit. "Oh Lord."

"I don't think the distraction is needed now." Miles grimaced and frowned thoughtfully. "Where was he when you came back?"

"Well and truly dug in." Peter looked at the flaring wreck and grimaced himself, that wreck would give the Germans plenty to aim at now.

"Well here's hoping he dug himself out before that hit." Miles turned and gave a brief order before moving off down the trench towards the fire trench.

"'E's in a hole just this side of the crash." A private volunteered the welcome news.

"Good." Miles nodded and cast a nervous glance over his shoulder before looking back out to the wreck once more.

"'Ere 'e comes." The yell was totally pointless, it would have had to be a blind man to have not seen Darcy as he lunged out of his shell hole and plunged across the twenty yards of mire before diving into the fire trench.

"Shut up." The curt statement was nearly drowned by a crump, but Peter nevertheless dove down the fire trench to where Darcy was crouched.

"Still alive sir?'

"If he'd keep quiet I'd say very." Darcy grunted as he freed a field dressing from his pocket. "Peter, get back, we need a stretcher....and you're to accompany it back."

"Yes sir." Peter shot away like a scalded cat.

"What in hell...?" Darcy paused and looked up as the entire world seemed to explode over his head.

"You asked for a diversion." Miles crouched down beside Darcy.

"I hope it doesn't last for long." Darcy packed the last of his dressing kit into his pocket.

"One minute barrage." Miles frowned down at the comatose form which lay sprawled beside Darcy. "Is he alive?"

"Yes." Darcy started back down the fire trench. "A very good diversion, I should have waited a minute or two longer."

"No matter." Miles followed, but resumed speaking as soon as they cleared the trench. "Why did you go up?"

"It was Ashie." Darcy responded simply. "Hell he looks awful, good thing I never wanted to be a medic." Darcy grimaced as he propped Ashie up against the ledge of the trench.

"You should have left me." Ashie's brows were deeply creased.

"Will you shut up!" Darcy flashed in irritation at Ashie.

"What's wrong with him?"

"He got shot in the back by a Fokker. The bullet should have killed him outright, but for some reason it didn't continue the trip. He's bleeding badly and if that stretcher doesn't hurry up he will die." Darcy rubbed his head in irritation.

"Must've hit that bit of shell." Ashie gave a short gasp of pain. "Dammit all Major, couldn't you have just left me, I was comfortable."

"Life isn't meant to be comfortable." Darcy abruptly picked Ashie up once more and started walking. "That stretcher is taking too long. I'll carry him myself." Darcy swung back into one of the feed trenches. "Get talking Ashie."

"Don't want to."

"Well damn well do it." Darcy edged around a crowd of privates and curtly refused the offers of aid as he continued to work his way back.

"Sorry sir, ain't a stretcher team to be found." Peter skidded to an unsteady halt.

"Damn." Darcy swore, but did not pause in walking. "Get back to Hazy, tell him he's got the division until I get back....I shouldn't be more than an hour at the most."

"Darcy, you can't just leave like that!" Miles protested.

"Then find a bloody stretcher, I'm not having Ashie carted away swinging by arms and legs.....nothing is more likely to kill him right now. I'm quite reluctant to leave Mi8les, but I'll be damned surprised if you can winkle up someone who can carry Ashie alone the whole way back to the Station."

"Sorry sir." Miles dropped back for a minute and then ducked away.

"What in goodness comes here?" The VAD who was busy filing out movement orders looked up with a gape and Philadelphia spun on a startled heel to see the blood-soaked Darcy marching up.

"What's up?" Philadelphia shot across to Darcy.

"Captain Ashington-Frankston, he's in need of emergency surgery......if Sister Bennet around?"

"Your wife Major is currently in surgery."

"How long will it last?"

"She should be out any moment."

"Right. I can't stay around, just let Elizabeth get to Ashie first. Elizabeth knows the particulars of Ashie's health and she will know why I specify emergency surgery."

"Very good sir......and good luck."

"Same to you." Darcy carefully lowered Ashie onto an available camp bed. "If you can spare someone make sure he keeps conscious."

"I'll manage him." Philadelphia responded grimly.

"Good." Darcy gave a brief wave and was walking swiftly away.

"Sister Phelps, please go notify surgery that a critical case has just come in, likewise notify Sister Bennet that it is Ashington-Frankston and it is said she'll know the particulars of the problem."

"Yes Sister." The Sister shot away and Philadelphia took over her work checking the movement marks, though she frequently spared a glance for Ashie.

"What happened to you?"

"I crashed." The response was flat and morose.

"Well I'm glad I don't fly then. I'd hate to know I'd be covered in blood every time I crashed." Philadelphia watched the irritated twitch in amusement, there was nothing like persuading someone to live by uttering inanities on an important subject.

"Who are you?"

"Sister Baker, you stood yourself coffee in Paris and let me watch you drink it."

"Oh." There was a pause. "I got shot down."

"Hit too by the looks."

"Correct." The response was curt.

"What is it Delph." Elizabeth arrived breathlessly.

"Hullo Lizzie. Your Major type husband just delivered a bloodstained bundle of rags and said it needed emergency surgery. He seemed to think you'd know why."

"Who is it?"

"Captain Ashington-Frankston, better known as Ashie....I warn you, he's in a foul temper with the world in general."

"Ashie!" Elizabeth sank down beside the bed and touched one bloodstained cheek. "You are a mess."

"You can tell the Major from me that next time he is not to fish me out of such a mess."

"You can tell him that yourself. Now where were you hit?"

"Left shoulder." Ashie grimaced as he brought his right hand around and indicated the spot.

"Emergency surgery indeed. Delph, pray to God we get no other emergency surgeries tonight for this job won't wait and it won't be short in duration." Elizabeth was getting Ashie across onto a stretcher as she spoke and a minute later and the only sign that Ashie had ever been there was a small damp patch on the ground and a bloodstained sheet.

"Sister Bennet." Elizabeth was halfway through writing a letter for a Private who was not going to go home when the Matron came up hurriedly.

"Yes?" Elizabeth hastily rose to her feet.

"You're going with the next Ambulance wave. The Doctor wants you to stay with that Flying Corps Captain for the time being."

"Very good Matron.....how long do I have?"

"Ten minutes."

"Thank you, I'll get this letter finished and be waiting." Elizabeth returned to the Private and within eight minutes she was helping with the loading of the ambulance.

"Why isn't that man under sedation." The strident complaint came from Eliabeth's left and turning she saw that Ashie was being inspected by the Matron.

"Medical records Matron. The Captain has a bad reaction to morphia and it was decided in his present state that pain would be better for him than the reaction."

"Very well." The Matron moved away while Elizabeth hastily finished loading the Ambulance.

"Where do I go?"

"Up front with me." Elizabeth was closing the canvas flaps at the back of the ambulance as she spoke.

"Pleasant thought." Ashie grimaced as he cautiously eased up into one of the hard seats. "You are an abominable liar, Sister Bennet."

"You'd prefer to have been dosed up with Morphia?"

"No." Ashie smiled reluctantly.

"Why Captain's stripes?" Elizabeth made the query as she cautiously negotiated a sharp bend.

"I got demoted." Ashie shrugged disinterestedly.

"Why?"

"Sister Bennet that is really none of your business." Ashie abruptly flashed in clear irritation.

"One has to talk about something." Elizabeth responded in a slightly cool tone.

"No one does not." With Ashie's response silence fell over the cab of the ambulance. "I'm sorry." It was nearly twenty minutes later when Ashie finally spoke. "Wasn't fair on you to yell just because I was irritated at the world......it wasn't aimed at you."

"Frankly Captain I would prefer it if it were." Elizabeth responded somewhat shortly.

"Look I said sorry, do you have to rub it in?"

"I'm not rubbing it in, I'm just stating a matter of truth. I would much prefer you were angry with me Captain than just lashing out at the world in general." Elizabeth paused. "Why didn't you come?"

"To the wedding?" Ashie paused to consider is answer. "I was afraid." The response came simply and drew a sharp look from Elizabeth. "The Squadron's been through hell, my getting shot up like this won't have helped a scrap. It's as if none of the greenies even want to be in France, they just keep dying." Ashie shrugged helplessly. "I'm sorry but I really just couldn't face the festivities, it's bad enough just talking." Ashie's face abruptly contracted and Elizabeth was not surprised to so his knuckles gleaming whitely in the dark.

"I'm sorry, I won't tease you any more."

"Don't bo......stop the ambulance."

"Wha....?" Elizabeth responded automatically and pulled the Ambulance to a quick halt, but she looked at Ashie sharply, only to then flinch backwards. It was a painful flash, followed by a loud crash and the earth heaved in a sickening manner. "What was that?" Elizabeth rubbed her eyes questioningly and then hurriedly descended and rounded to the back of the ambulance. A quick check verified that the patients were all still alive and not too upset.

"Shell, artillery." Ashie's voice had dropped off. "Elizabeth, help me down from the Ambulance, but you stay put and here unless I call for you."

"But Ashie...." Elizabeth stopped and resignedly helped Ashie down to the ground. Elizabeth watched in silence as Ashie walked cautiously around the corner of the road, he returned a couple of minutes later looking even more pallid then when he had left. "What is it Ashie?" Elizabeth hurried across and caught Ashie's arm as he staggered.

"Sorry." Ashie closed his eyes for a minute and then freed himself before walking back to the ambulance. "Just a touch of nausea.....who was ahead of us?"

"Only Delph's ambulance. Wh....?" Elizabeth's eyes abruptly widened. "It didn't....?" But Ashie responded with a mute and slow nod.

"It very, very much did." It was nearly a minute later when Ashie spoke. "Any particular drill for this?"

"I don't know." Elizabeth had the back of her hand pressed against her mouth, but she abruptly started getting out. "But I do know we've got to look for survivors."

"There are none." Ashie caught Elizabeth's arm and pulled her back into the cab. "Drive on, you should be able to get past if you're careful and use the ditch."

"Ho...." Elizabeth stopped and focussed very firmly on her driving, she had realised that in truth she had no wish to know how he knew that there were no survivors. Half a minute later and Elizabeth knew how he knew, the hit had been direct and there was very little left of the ambulance which might by a good imagination be called one piece. "I'm going to be sick." Elizabeth stated it matter of factly as she turned the next corner.

"Don't even consider it, I can't drive right now and you can't drive if you're being sick out the door and I doubt anyone else wants to sit around here."

"But I am going to be sick." Elizabeth almost wailed.

"Take some advice, very firmly ignore the matter.....think of the Major or something if you must." Ashie gave another shrug and once more an expression of pain rippled across his features.

"You think it will work?" Elizabeth eyed Ashie doubtfully.

"It works for me."

"Do you use it often?" Elizabeth looked at him curiously.

"In truth, you really do not want the answer to that question." Ashie relaxed back and then abruptly jerked forward with a grunt, his fist knuckled into his forehead and a comparison between face and knuckles would have shown no colour difference. Five minutes passed before Ashie finally straightened up once more and his face was back to its bland mask.

"The Fortune-Teller.....Ashie, it's coming true."

"What?" Ashie looked at her in puzzlement.

"The Fortune-Teller from the circus."

"Oh good heavens. Lizzie you are an Ass! Madame Georgia is no more of a fortune teller than I am, in fact she's a damn sight less." Ashie spat the last.

"You know her?"

"No." Ashie's response was just a shade too quick to be honest. "Anyone can make a prediction like hers, we're at war, people die every day....it's no lucky guess that she can say you're going to lose some people who are important to you." A sharp hiss followed the response.

"Why Captain?"

"Well they wouldn't demote me unless I did something wrong and I sure as hell wasn't going to be lumped out as C.O. to 176 Squadron." Ashie responded shortly.

"Ah." Elizabeth nodded and then stared out the window. "It's not working Ashie, I'm going to be sick."

"No you damn well are not.....what happened at the wedding?"

"Not much, the Division turned up, we had lunch."

"Jeez, I thought girls were meant to gabble on about their weddings and the dress they wore and..."

"I didn't wear a dress, or else maybe I could oblige." Elizabeth interrupted Ashie and her tone was teasing.

"How annoying, and you missed your sister's wedding, and I'm most certainly not going to talk about my sister's wedding.....which means we really can't discuss weddings at all. Perhaps if we discuss the relative merits of.....of the moon."

"Why the moon?"

"Why not the moon, it's as good a topic as any and it is certainly a big topic."

"You are sounding very strange."

"I hope that does not surprise you, I've been losing blood steadily since the bomb." The response was short.

"Do you think it is cheese?" Elizabeth responded as if apropos to nothing, there was nothing she could do at the present moment in time.

"If so it cannot be Swiss for I cannot see through it."

"Why do you keep looking out?"

"Because I'm expecting when we reach the hospital that you have been formally assigned to watch over me for the duration of my....convalescence."

"Why do you say it like that?" Elizabeth looked at him curiously.

"Never fear it won't be much of a job, the Major is merely taking precautions."

"Against what?" Elizabeth wrinkled her nose in perplexity.

"You'd better ask the Major that one, all he's ever said to me is that he protects his own."

"You mean he wants you too keep an eye on me?" Elizabeth looked at him sharply and Ashie abruptly cracked a laugh which ended with a pained hiss.

"Rest assured Mrs. Major he's owned me for fourteen more years than he's owned you. I fagged for him at Eton and as a result have never had to fight once in my life. I suspect the Major hopes to protect me from myself, but I fear his efforts will be in vain." Ashie paused. "And before you panic at the word owned may I also observe that he owned his brother, he still owns his younger sister, he owns every tenant on his numerous estates and he owns every man in his division. For Darcy owning is merely a matter of responsibility, and he respects everything he owns.....Oh hell I'm babbling. Please excuse me and ignore what I have said....sorry, I didn't mean to swear either.....and tell that damn doctor that we are going straight back to the aerodrome for I have no need of a bed, or of morphine."

"I think you may find that I don't carry sufficient weight to make such an amendment."

"Then we'll borrow the telephone and find someone who does." Ashie responded simply and Elizabeth shook her head as she realised that he was completely serious and considered the whole thing fairly minor. It was as if he found producing someone to overrule a Doctor in charge of a Base Hospital an easy and common practice. Elizabeth shook her head again for she knew where she would end up tonight.

December 10th 1917-Ypres, France

"If I were two-faced, would I be wearing this one?" - Abraham Lincoln

General David Fitzwilliam Darcy was looking about as annoyed as he ever looked, which is to say he looked vaguely annoyed, as he idly twisted a sheet of paper between his fingers.

"Sir." Peter shot into the room, slipped on a slick bit of mud as he tried to halt and salute, and crashed heavily into the wall.

"I have seen more elegant salutes." Darcy made the observation as he hauled the clearly dizzy Peter to his feet.

"Sorry sir......but you really shouldn't have cowpats in your office." The latter was added as Peter finally looked at what he had slipped on.

"Tell me about it, I've been smelling it for an hour." Darcy returned to his desk. "You enter for a reason?"

"Yes sir, Carrigan is currently detaining one General Harrison.....it would seem he is of the opinion that he is meant to be here as a Divisional Officer."

"His opinion is correct." Darcy's tone was gloomy.

"Why?"

"I just got recalled to England......seems that they've decided I should be involved with the training of raw recruits as opposed to being out here."

"They're off their ruddy nuts." Peter's opinion, expressed bluntly, was quite what Darcy himself was thinking, though not quite for the same reason. "What do we do with this General mug?"

"Send him in." Darcy paused. "And I wish him to arrive both intact and sane.....and preferably not in a bad temper."

"Very good sir." Peter was looking exceptionally gloomy as he trailed from the cramped hut. Darcy waited until the door had only just closed before sending another Private through the door.

"Get Colonel Holloway in here." Darcy settled back as the door banged once more and started methodically putting order to his desk, order such that he was not the only person who knew where anything was.

"You sent for me sir?" Miles edged through the doorway.

"I did." Darcy pushed back from his desk. "I want you to take Peter on as a runner."

"Sir?" It was hesitant, questioning, and clearly perplexed as far as answers went.

"Miles I have been recalled to England.....I'm not going to want a runner there, and even if I did I wouldn't want a runner like Peter."

"Yes sir, sorry sir.....so that's who the mug is Carrie's holding up.......we're going to miss you damnably Major.....do try to get back out here."

"Don't worry, I will." Darcy gave a curt nod of dismissal and returned to his folders. With luck he'd be able to take Elizabeth out to dinner, instead of just giving a hurried explanation in the hospital yard watched by some fearsome Matron.

"And all this is concealed in the words 'recalled to England'?" Elizabeth gazed gravely across the table at Darcy, who was stirring at an indeterminate mish-mash which no one dared name.

"No." Darcy shook his head slowly. "I was told most of it last time I was in London and the rest has come by bits and pieces since then."

"Do you know where you're being sent?"

"No." Darcy shook his head and then met Elizabeth's look. "In truth Elizabeth I do not know, this is not just red-tape...red-tape hasn't stopped me before, why should it stop me now? I don't know where I'm going.....in fact no one knows where I'm going.....except perhaps some punctilious officer somewhere in the German Health system."

"Come back to me David." Elizabeth picked up one large hand.

"I have every intention of doing so." Darcy gently brushed his free hand against Elizabeth's cheek. "Tears? I don't have to go."

"Yes you do." Elizabeth's tone was tight, but resigned. "And you know that even better than I do. You won't be happy if you don't go because you'll feel like you've betrayed England. You're going, we both know it so we're wasting time making a fuss over it. I've said it once and now I'll say it again, don't expect me to smile and be brave until tomorrow, right now I want to cry."

"Elizabeth." Darcy abruptly caught her face and leant across and gently kissed it.

"David!" Elizabeth had turned quite pink and her protest was half scandalised.

"Garbage." Darcy commented rudely as he rose and planked some coins onto the table top, one glacial look around the room and the patrons who had only seconds before been showing surprised interest abruptly lost interest and became fascinated with other things. "You coming?"

"Stupid question." Elizabeth rose and took his arm as Darcy lead the way through the tables. A minute later and Darcy had pushed his way into a small field.

"Now, will you object if I kiss you here?" Darcy looked gravely down at Elizabeth, and equally gravely Elizabeth stared back and a second later even if she'd wanted to respond she couldn't have, for Darcy was kissing her very thoroughly indeed.

"Umm." When Darcy released her a few minutes later Elizabeth had to admit that she hadn't a coherent thought left in her head.

"Next time I need to say good-bye to you Elizabeth, remind me not to go there."

"Very well." Elizabeth responded in a demure tone, at which Darcy gave a quick laugh and promptly kissed her again.

"Please don't forget me Elizabeth." Darcy looked gravely into Elizabeth's eyes from a range of about two inches.

"David, if you think my memory that bad, I'm shocked and horrified and possibly even going to swoon." Elizabeth gently touched the side of his face with her free hand, for all her teasing tone, her eyes were serious. "I know it sounds ridiculous, but keep safe David, I want you to return."

"I promised when I married you that to you I'd always come back, I've every intention of keeping that promise Elizabeth." Darcy paused and then glanced at his watch. "And unfortunately I have now to get you back to your Hospital and I have a train to catch to Paris." Silence reigned between the two of them for the half-hour walk back to the Hospital. They paused just outside of the Hospital grounds.

"I can't say Good-bye, it seems too final." Elizabeth's voice shook slightly as she spoke.

"My parents used Dowidzenia, til we meet again.....but I'm afraid I don't like copying." Darcy paused. "In fact the only thing I can say is 'Thank you'. Thank you Elizabeth, for even if we never meet again you have given me the happiest month of my life.....I hope I gave you even an eighth of what you have given me."

"Thank you." Elizabeth's voice shook and she abruptly buried her face in his coat.

"I'm sorry Elizabeth." Darcy closed his arms around her briefly and hugged her tight. "You got one hell of a husband for yourself, he never seems to do anything but leave you and make you worry about his singularly useless hide."

"But even though he leaves he comes back, parting may be painful, but the reunion is even sweeter....Thank you David, you've taught me some good lessons." Elizabeth abruptly reached up and pulled his head down. "Thank you David." Elizabeth kissed him quickly and then ducked away into the darkness. David waited not an instant, he just swung on his heel and walked hurriedly down the road, if he waited any longer he knew he would never go, but go he must for he was needed somewhere else.

December 12th 1917-Squadron 284, France

As far as the laws of mathematics refer to reality, they are not certain; and as far as they are certain, they do not refer to reality. - Albert Einstein

Ashie stared silently up at the ceiling, his brows creased so much that they formed a straight black bar over his eyes.

"You okay Ashie?" Florrie's face swam into view over him.

"What the devil do you think?" Ashie snapped an irritated response. "I'm utterly fine, just dying by inches.....devil take the Major he should have left me alone."

"Very good sir." Florrie withdrew and banged the door behind himself and shot a rueful glance at Moggie and Elizabeth who were seated on chocks a couple of yards away. "The Captain is very unhappy."

"That should not surprise you." Moggy rose to his feet as he spoke.

"Frankly sir it doesn't surprise me. But with all respect to your medical grey-beard Ashie is getting damnably tired of living right now. He happens to be my cousin but relative or no I don't like suffering in either animal or man and he is definitely suffering. He never had a good life to begin with and it's been going downhill since."

"What precisely do you mean?" Moggy creased his brows together.

"What do you think I mean? Before he could at least travel and now he can't even do that for fear he'll get too crook by stepping out his front door."

"Blue Demon, it is nothing near that bad so shut yer ruddy mouth." Ashie's face appeared around the barracks room door and his humour had clearly not improved. "Moggy as payment for gossiping you can clean the blood out of my bed....Sister Bennet I need an unobservant observer in the back of the Gladas, will you oblige?"

"Is this my payment too?" Elizabeth didn't even bother attempting to conceal her dismay.

"Probably.....unless I come up with a better one." Ashie shrugged and then frowned. "Don't even consider following or having anyone else follow."

"You going to enforce it?" There was a hesitant pause before Florrie responded with the query.

"Dear cousin, anyone who follows me will get shot down." There was no humour in Ashie's eyes.

"If you insist." Florrie stepped back gave a nod and retreated.

"Would you actually shoot down anyone who follows?" Elizabeth looked at Ashie curiously.

"Yes." The response was simple. "I take you because the probability of your being able to tell anyone where I go is nigh on non-existent. For the safety of all concerned I would willingly shoot down anyone who followed."

"Why not fly alone then?"

"The Camel doesn't have the range to do this job, we'll have to refuel as it is." Ashie responded bluntly.

"Ashie I don't fly well."

"Trust me, you won't get sick, you won't get hurt, and you shouldn't get scared. We're just taking a flap into Southern France. I promised the Major I'd do it. And if you don't trust me to keep you safe you can trust that my liking for a whole skin will stop me from hurting you. Believe me if I thought there was any risk in this I wouldn't let you within a mile of it for the Major would rip the hide off me." Ashie grimaced at the half lie, he had indeed promised the Major he'd visit Marie but Elizabeth's company was most certainly nothing to do with it.

"Mm-hmm." Elizabeth looked at Ashie doubtfully.

"Oh bye the bye, please don't kill me but I had to post off that letter of yours yesterday. Denny was scavenging for paper and he is no respecter of private things."

"Kitty's going to think me crazy-mad, I never finished it, I didn't come near finishing it."

"Poor little Kitty has a mad sister....never mind, she probably knew you were crazy. Now hop it and get a coat from Florrie and then get back here, I like the idea of returning before dark."

"Yes sir." Elizabeth couldn't quite swallow the nervous feeling in her stomach, but the options were few and she did know she could trust Ashie.

The Gladas ran to a smooth halt on the stretch of emerald green turf and in the mid-afternoon light the scene appeared unreal. The Chateau seemed to glow from some inner light.

"Descendez el pronto and bang on the big front door. Tell them you need a towel."

"They speak English?" Elizabeth shot a doubtful glance at the building as she started to climb down.

"Very well indeed." Ashie flexed his fingers in a semi-irritated manner. "Now do try and get a towel I want to mop up the blood before it all dries in the seat."

"Oh, sorry Ashie, I forgot that would probably happen." Elizabeth dropped immediately onto the turf and hurried across to the door where she banged hard.

From Ashie's seat in the cockpit of the Gladas he could see the confusion at the door, and with a satisfied grin and a sigh he started occupying himself with the consideration of how much blood was actually in the seat and how much of it was just a damp mixture of sweat and blood which gave an impression of sitting in a pool of moisture. Ashie was fairly certain that the towel might be a long time in coming.

"Zhames, so it is you indeed." The husky voice caused Ashie to jerk his head up, it was a move Ashie regretted but his expression gave no hint of the fact.

"As ever Marie." Ashie looked at the elderly retainer and then grinned. "Is that a nice big towel I see over your arm?"

"Possibly. That was a cruel stunt to pull and you know it."

"Do they think it's cruel?" Ashie cocked an enquiring eyebrow which was met by a laugh.

"Impossible boy." Marie handed up the exceedingly large towel indeed, and a few moments later Ashie descended from the cockpit with it draped across his shoulders like a robe. "He nearly fell over when she appeared and I'm positive she nearly fainted."

"Well it's been over a month now and don't even attempt to tell me that he's not just about to be shoved off for the real work."

"You should not interfere Zhames. They have said their good-byes once and now they have to say them again."

"They need the practice." Ashie's response was slightly curter than he had intended.

"You do not fool me Zhames, you go up and have a wash and tidy up. Henri will deal with that horrible uniform and I'll come bandage you up as soon as you're ready. and then you will talk over tea."

"How grim. Why is it I can never keep my mouth shut to you Marie?"

"Because you know it is for your own good."

"That Sister is just as bad." Ashie made a morose face and then made his way swiftly up the stairs to a very familiar room indeed.

"It is good that the sister is there for you then." When Ashie descended forty-five minutes later Marie picked up as if he'd never been gone.

"Why is it that people keep doing things for my own good?"

"Because you do not do them yourself." Marie waved a finger at him. "Now lie down and let me fix up this mess you call a back."

"Humph." Ashie settled and pulled a comically resigned face.

"Don't try that Zhames, you know it does not work on me." Marie's voice altered audibly as she pulled the back of his top down. "Very silly boy Zhames, you've been shot and you very much should be dead."

"I very much feel that I am." Ashie set his teeth, determined not to embarrass himself another time by bellowing.

"Well just be quiet and let Marie look."

"I did not come here to be doctored."

"Well in that case you should not leave blood in your aeroplane." Marie countered calmly.

"Marie there are only fifteen more minutes before we need to leave again."

"Zhames, your impatience merely delays me. I know you only had the hour, you only ever have the hour when you come and visit poor little me."

"Stop it Marie." Ashie growled softly.

"Sorry Zhames. Now pull up your shirt again and Marie will fix some things for your little friend to give you later on when you can lie down for an indefinite period."

"Yes and I'm sure you'll make it have to be an indefinite period." Ashie cautiously pulled upright and then frowned. "I am not happy with Georgia."

"Few people ever are. What has Georgia done to upset you?"

"Who she's upset is 'my little friend' as you call her. Your confounded cousin predicted three deaths to her and two were going to be personal hurts.....and one of them happened just over a month ago."

"Georgia would be glad to hear that, but I'm afraid both pleasure and the telling off must wait for Georgia's in Germany with the Circus......I do wish they wouldn't go over there."

"I believe the deutschmark is still as reliable as the franc."

"Money, money, money. Who ever heard of staying honest and true to god."

"You saying the Germans have no god?"

"They can't or they would not starve the Belgians."

"Well obviously the Belgians are also without God or they would not be murdering the German wounded."

"That is true, the wounded are no fair target. But the Belgians have provocation."

"I'll refrain from responding." Ashie abruptly grinned as Henri came into the room with his uniform. "Ahh, my ever so horrible uniform. Thank you Henri."

"It is clean now, for a while I thought it would not....it also had some odd holes which I patched.....I do not like little round holes in those areas."

"Neither do Henri, neither do I. Marie will you go disturb by unobservant observer and tell her she has five minutes to be by the Gladas, I have need to change again."

"Which will mean that Henri has wasted his time. Henri can go disturb them, I need to package up the brew." With that Marie departed and Henri spared Ashie a commiserating look.

"You're in for it now lad."

"Tell me about it." Ashie grimaced and hastily pulled on his uniform. "Well see you again sometime Henri. Tell Gerard I was here and don't let Marie give her two cents worth of blue dismals. I'm alive and intend to remain so."

"I will go disturb the others then....but do not bring her back again Ashie, it is not fair on either of them."

"I wasn't going to Henri, but she's still blue over the loss of a friend, and the recent mess at the aerodrome hasn't helped, it was just a single distraction. An hour of a sweet dream....tell the Major I'm sorry to have given him a rough ride but she did need to see him."

"Will do Ashie. Safe trip to you both, I hope that damn engine doesn't let you down again."

"Didn't on the way here so I have high hopes for the return." Ashie settled his coat and then headed down the stairs. With a bit of luck he might even make it to Gladas before his back split open again.

It was a somewhat morose looking Ashie who was loading in a few rather large parcels some five minutes later into the Gladas.

"What are those?" Darcy was watching with amusement.

"Darcy do have to foul up my take-off and run over you?"

"Ahh so it is that." Darcy's grin widened abruptly.

"I don't need the commentary."

"Call it revenge if you like."

"I don't like." Ashie rammed the last of the parcels in behind the observer's seat and then straightened with a grimace. "Sister, if you will mount I'll endeavor to return us safe and sound to the aerodrome before the car passes."

"Ashie." Darcy jerked his head to one side and Ashie promptly followed. "I wasn't joking about watching her."

"I didn't think you were." Ashie gave a yawn. "She thinks, as far as I know, that this jerry-rigged situation is for my benefit."

"In part it is. But I'm serious about keeping half an eye on her, Ashie."

"Look Major I'm tired and accordingly very short tempered. Unless you want me to yell at you just take it on word that I'll keep an eye on her."

"Sorry Ashie, just worried."

"Know where you're going?"

"No." Darcy negatived. "And I think that's the worst of it."

"Good luck with it all and we'll hope to see you before the current prediction of April next year."

"You're not the only one hoping that." Darcy gave a short shrug. "Thanks Ashie, it eases my mind that you'll keep an eye on her."

"Is her father to be trusted?"

"He certainly must know who to get in touch with." Darcy mused for a moment.

"Good, I'll use him if I can't get Parker myself."

"Right. Safe flying."

"I won't say the same to you because luck is not what you need." Ashie shot a sharp look at the sky. "What you need is a bloody miracle." Ashie returned quickly to Gladas and swung the prop before dodging under it and scrambling up into the already moving 'plane. "Damn! I could have sworn I had the throttle in." Ashie then looked at the board in amazement because the throttle was in. Clearly the Gladas had surprises in her yet.

Darcy remained out on the lawn until the 'plane was totally lost to his sight and then turned and walked somewhat dejectedly back in again.

"Master Fitzwilliam."

"Yes Henri?" Darcy turned to the old man.

"Zhames asked me to apologise for him, seems the Squadron and some friend's death have rocked her up badly, he says it will not happen again."

"Tell Ashie next time that he comes that I don't want an apology, I was on the verge of packing it all in when I got a wake-up call and had a few truths pointed out to me.....nothing like knowing the lady wife will patiently wait until the job is successfully done. I honestly think she'd be madder if I pulled out than if I got killed doing it." Darcy turned and mounted the stairs. "Damn it all Parker, why all this waiting?"

December 17th 1917-Longbourn, England

My idea of a Superwoman is someone who scrubs their own floors - Bette Midler

Miss Katherine Bennet gave a deep sigh as she pushed back up to crouch on her heels and stretch her back.

"My hands are never going to be the same." Caroline's gloomy tone drew a sharp crack of laughter from Kitty.

"I did warn you." Kitty yawned, rolled her shoulders, winced, and eyed with extreme dislike the expanse of as yet unscrubbed floor.

"No you did not, you merely invited me to help you scrub floors in my new silk. You said absolutely nothing about the fact that I would have no skin left by the end of ten minutes!"

"Ahh, stop complaining, at least the floor doesn't moan while you scrub."

"Kitty, if you make another remark like that I am going to be sick, and I am going to be sick in such a way that you'll have a big mess to clean up and I'll cease to exist."

"Death through sickness, Caroline Marie Bingley, alas, she was so young when the terrible disease took her life. She was sick and ceased to exist."

"Doesn't work at all." Caroline's tone was damping.

"Well you do better then." Kitty shifted across to retrieve her bucket, she was very thankful she had followed Elizabeth's lead from previous years and wore trousers for this operation, they were infinitely more comfortable than a dress when wet.

"Well let's keep the beginning intact. Death through sickness, new line, Caroline Marie Bingley, 'nother new line, alas so young when her life was took, such beauty the world must surely mistook...."

"No fair, you've got to use English."

"Who said?" Caroline made the challenge as she picked up her rag again and resumed scrubbing.

"I do."

"Big mistake, I never take orders from a younger woman......to think that three years ago I wouldn't even have dreamed it possible that I would now be wearing a pair of Charles' trousers and scrubbing a kitchen floor while bickering with you."

"What had you intended?"

"I was going to be married to Mr. Darcy and travelling the world.....I am now very thankful he was so kind as to not take me up on that."

"Why?"

"Balls are boring compared to this." Caroline then gave an abrupt laugh. "Kitty my sweet, you have a terrible effect on me."

"Well it's equal, you have a terrible effect on me....maybe we should set up as a floor-scrubbing business and together we can scrub the floors of the nation."

"I'd much prefer to say Scrub the Floors of the Empire.....but imagine the state of my hands when all that scrubbing was done!" Caroline was looking mournful for a minute, but then her face miraculously lit up. "Cooky, you absolute Darling, I'm sure you can spare a Macaroon for these two slaves."

"Miss Caroline you are terrible, no we don't have no macaroons, but Mrs. Nodd has just given me three ruined root cakes and I should be able to whip up something for your collective sweet teeth." Mrs. Hill shook her head in amusement and pulled a letter out of her pocket. "Letter for you Miss Kitty, seems Miss 'Lizabeth has an awful lot to write today."

"You keep it Mrs. Hill." Kitty pushed an unruly curl off her face. "I'll read it when we have this floor scrubbed."

"Very good Miss Kitty. Must admit I don't like to see you two crouched down like that, but hiring someone to do it is too expensive."

"Mrs. Hill don't you dare threaten to take away the only excuse we have to get thoroughly dirty!" Kitty looked indignant. "You take away the entire reason for why the parents were packed off to London and my Aunt and Uncle Gardiner's for the fortnight."

"Now Miss Kitty, don't go taking that note with me, I've known you since you were a wee thing so you don't fool me. Now get scrubbing so I can get the pudding made this side of Christmas."

"Yes ma'am." Kitty gave another spurt of laughter as she resumed scrubbing and sluicing the floor. Dark, greasy, and grimy water flooded everywhere, soaked into everything and was slowly draining out through the floor drains.

"War. Do you know Kitty, that as much as I hate it I am very thankful it came.....I doubt you would have ever been my friend if it had not come." Caroline paused and then wrinkled her nose. "What does Elizabeth write? I have a feeling it is a very mixed letter."

"It is." Kitty's voice was uncertain, almost puzzled. "I'll read it to you and see what you think.

My dear Kitty,

I hope all is well at Longbourn and that the parents and you are all happy. I wish I could come home for the Spring-Cleaning, but such is not an option for a battle is in full swing and everyone is run off their feet.

I'm married Kitty, but I'll tell you more and introduce you to my husband if we both survive long enough to get some home leave. Oh that looks confusing, sorry Kitty, I lost this letter for a couple of months and have only just found it. The battle mentioned above is over and we have Paschendaele, but the price we paid for it is high.

How peculiar, Lizzie has not mentioned her husband's name.....I wonder who it could be?"

"I'm afraid I'm no wiser than you are Kitty on that subject, and very likely a lot less knowing." Caroline blinked at the sun and then looked down at her skinned fingers. She used to spend a lot of time on her hands, but now the nails were chipped and unpolished and she had more than a couple of scars as evidence of her work in the past months both at Longbourn and Netherfield. Netherfield. Caroline turned her head and looked in the general direction of the house. Charles was very happily married and no longer needed her, Louisa didn't need her, in fact except for Kitty nobody even seemed willing to talk to her.

"Caroline, are you alright?" Kitty touched Caroline's shoulder gently.

"Sorry Kitty, just realised that no one in the world cares about me....except possibly for you. It's somewhat depressing."

"Don't be silly Caroline! Mrs. Hill and all the Servants at Netherfield love you to bits. You don't dither which is a trait servants abhor, and Jane dithers a lot!"

"But they're servants." Caroline spoke softly.

"Go join the VADs then and find some friends who aren't servants. With your floor-scrubbing abilities they'll probably snap you up immediately."

"Thank you ever so kindly." Caroline rolled her eyes in an unladylike manner and then carefully dried her eyes. "I'm sorry about that wave of self-pity. Proceed with the letter."

"Well it actually now ceases being happy." Kitty's voice was slightly choked up.

"Why?"

"You know Sister Baker whom I was corresponding with?"

"Yes, I've read innumerable letters she has written you." Caroline flicked a rock into the garden.

"She's dead." Kitty became even more choked and then abruptly dropped the letter and buried her face in her hands.

"Gently does it Kitty." Caroline gently rocked the sobbing girl, her foot carefully preventing the letter from blowing around the garden.

"It was an artillery shell and Lizzie says she was fortunate not to be injured in the accident as well. It seems that Ashie told her to stop the ambulance and she only just had when the shell crashed home, had she not stopped she'd had driven straight into the blast wave.....she then observes that she wishes she had. Oh Caroline, she must be miserable. Philadelphia had been with her since she went to France, they met going over and haven't been separated since."

"Well her husband will probably help cheer her up, that and work." Caroline spoke in a cheerful tone which she was not feeling at all.

"I don't know, Elizabeth mentions some fear that he will have to leave for longer than just a tour of the front very soon."

"Oh you are a wet blanket." Caroline gave Kitty a quick hug, now straighten up, dry your tears and remember that a lady never destroys her complexion by crying....you can cry in bed tonight."

"You are fine company." Kitty straightened up and made a woeful attempt at appearing cheerful.

"Thank you, I've been waiting for you to realise how privileged you are to have me around. Now proceed with the letter before I read it for myself."

"Sorry." Kitty retrieved the pages and sorted through them for a minute or two. "Now where was I? Oh yeah, Philadelphia.

I've been assigned across to watch Ashie until he is fit again and I must admit that it has been interesting. I get picked up every day by the most diabolical machine ever invented. The Cads (Ashie's Squadron) call it the Dust-Buster, but they're considering renaming it Death Trap and I think Death Trap is infinitely more appropriate. It began as a motorcycle and then was modified so it had a sidecar. The result of this modification is that the driver has to drive in close on hardlock to the right if he does not wish to deposit himself, his passenger and the bike in the ditch. More recently they were unable to get appropriate tyres so the fitted it with wheels from one of their wrecks. The result is that the Dust-Buster now has a sidecar which is considerably higher than its attached bike, it has zero suspension and these titchy little wheels which start screaming when the bike gets above twenty miles an hour. Ashie calls it the travel alarm and I quite agree, it would alarm anyone. That should give you a starting image of the Cads of the Flying Corps and trust me, they live up to it. My first couple of days were positively tame to the rest of my stay (every morning I get delivered to the Squadron by Dust-Buster, every night I am returned by a slightly less rickety car.) In fact for the early days nothing happened at all, Ashie lay on the edge of the tarmac with large sheets of paper for the better part to the entire day wearing a distinctly ridiculous hat. This hat warrants further mention, Ashie calls it an Australian Bush hat and it has a ridiculously wide brim which droops. Do you remember the picture Aunt Gardiner sent from Southern America of that funny man sleeping under his hat? Well the hat is almost of those proportions. Pyro, who is like Ashie's right hand in the matter of running this insane Squadron, says that you just stick a tin mug under the droops when it rains and you get water nicely channeled in. I'll send you a picture of him someday if I can get one, but that is unlikely since Ashie seems to have sixth sense where camera's are concerned (Pyro says he has sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth and tenth senses on the subject, but I'm not going into that right now) suffice to say that the hat vanishes if a camera appears and quite frequently Ashie vanishes with the hat as well.

"Who is Ashie?" Caroline wrinkled her brows thoughtfully.

"Captain, he's the Squadron-Leader......I think he's also a Lord, hyphenated name with a posh papa.....I think he's father is an earl or at least Lizzie said he was in an earlier letter.....Ashington-Frankston, that's the name, he was one of the Cads of Harrow back in about 1908. Toured the midlands and got soundly whipped by every team."

"Ashington-Frankston?" Caroline's brows rose quickly. "Must be the younger son, Gerard is too stodgy by half to wear a bush hat."

"You know the family?" Kitty looked up curiously.

"Gerard Ashington-Frankston married my best friend from school."

"Oh, what was Ashie like?"

"Bit of a playboy actually from what I remember, never took the same girl out twice unless he forgot he had taken her out before. He graduated from Harrow but didn't go to university, something about not liking the options. He says that he's rotten at classics, but don't you believe him, there are few people with a better grip on the subject of classics. He spent a year in London and an awful lot of that time he spent in the clink for getting drunk and hitting policemen, except when he was bailed out by his father or brother. Cleared off to the Americas for three years then. No one knows what he did there, but he was in the newspaper every time he was in New York. Bit of a Dandy all things considered and a very good dancer, he could have made himself the toast of London if he had felt inclined. He returned to London, got clinked immediately for a month after he hospitalised a policeman....I believe his version of the story is that the policeman insulted him, but either way you are not permitted to hospitalise a policeman like that. Ashie got bailed out by his very long-suffering family and took himself off to the continent where he remained completely out of the newspapers. And he obviously then enlisted and went to war."

"He doesn't sound at all like someone Elizabeth would like." Kitty wrinkled her nose.

"Ashie knows how to be likeable, but he's a very cold and calculating fish under it all.....he's also said to be indestructible."

"Who says that?"

"Mr. Darcy did actually, some years ago now, just after he got back from South Africa but he never explained the remark....or at least not to me."

"I didn't think you said Ashie went to South Africa." Kitty wrinkled her nose yet again.

"He didn't, it was Mr. Darcy who went to South Africa, Ashie went to the Americas and the Continent."

"Oh, sorry, being a bit dense today."

"You're being excessively dense. Now have you had enough information on Ashie or is that letter to remain unread?"

"Oh, forgot about that.....but still Ashie doesn't sound at all like what Elizabeth likes." Kitty sorted through the letter and found her place again. "Here goes.

After three days I finally realised why I had been sent out on the daily basis. For Ashie resumed his regular activities, also known as flying. He wasn't flying any flights but he was frequently off the ground and the result of this is that three times I've had to stitch him back up again and one time we had to tie him to his bed for the day just so he wouldn't rip his back open completely. I hate old scar tissue the stuff is so foully fragile, it rips so easily and takes one hell of a long time to heal. Sorry Kitty, just annoyed, I miss Delph and it makes being angry terribly easy."

"I don't think missing Delph is her biggest problem." Caroline tapped two thoughtful fingers together. "In fact I'd say that missing Philadelphia is the least of her problems and she knows it."

"Caroline you are talking over my head." Kitty complained.

"I'm talking over my own as well. Continue, or does she merely continue moaning about scar tissue?"

"Ceases there....in fact the whole letter ceases, she hasn't even signed it or anything." Kitty was frowning in perplexity at the page.

"Well then you must hope the rest of it turns up some day." Caroline stood up and blew out a tired breath.

"Whether it does or not I'm afraid that I'm going to bed. See you tomorrow morning Caroline, we can then tackle the carpets."

"Oh joyful thought." Caroline sighed and stared out across the grass. "So Miss Elizabeth Bennet is married......why am I not jealous even though I am twenty-eight and very much unmarried?" Caroline sighed again and rose to her feet, she knew the answer of that question very well. She was not married because she had no actual wish to be married.

20th December 1917-St. Euvais, Switzerland

Problems cannot be solved at the same level of awareness that created them. - Albert Einstein

The passport and train ticket were made out to Josef Herrin, and as it is a well known fact that Passports never lie Darcy resigned himself to being the innocuous Josef Herrin. The scenery out the window was both snowy and familiar. Possibly his familiarity with the scenes was fortunate since his occupation was listed as Mountaineer. Darcy glanced once more at the spread of paper on his knee, it was an official Health Board Message, it had come from Berlin and arrived at an address in Switzerland. The Swiss address had forwarded it to France and the result was that Darcy was now cramped into a fourth class carriage without his own chair and freezing while the train lumbered agonisingly across the frozen landscape. Darcy had infinitely preferred the heated Diamler which had conveyed him to where he had caught the train in Southern Switzerland on the Austro-Hungarian border.

Captain Elliot March
Nationality: Canadian
Age: 29
Height: 5'7"
Eyes: dark
Weight: 9st. 11oz.
Situation: Medical Internment, St. Euvais, Switzerland.
Medical: Fused right knee, result of battle injury. Missing one little finger, reason unknown.

Darcy smiled grimly to himself as once more he scanned the meagre details. To think that this was supposedly the key to Nickel.....though which key no one actually knew, and Darcy did know that the Count, Chris and everyone else was working to crack this nut in their own particular way. Only question Darcy had was why they needed him, a bungling amateur, when they had close on a thousand professionals, at least, at their beck and call.

St. Euvais Station was an ill-lit slab of rock about two inches wide carved halfway up a mountain and right next door to a big fall. Darcy took an intrigued look over the edge, but through snow flurries and darkness he could see nothing beyond about ten yards. With a sigh Darcy turned and limped across to the small ticket office where a distinctly miserable looking official was huddled against a stove which was predictably failing to counter the cold. It took five minutes for the necessary docketing and stamping to occur and then Darcy shouldered his pack again and limped his crooked way out of the station. Darcy had to admit that acquiring a stoop and limping were no strain at all. The road wound uneasily up the side of the mountain until it abruptly opened onto a reasonably large and slightly sunken area. The houses were clustered together in a huddle with the exception of two. The first was the Chateau Darcy was standing next to and appeared totally deserted, and the other was a small building perched on the slope above the small huddle. Darcy eyed his options for a disfavourable minute and the continued to shuffle on, the small building was clearly his destination, and he hoped there was some heating in it.

"Who are you?" The woman who peered glacially around the corner of the door, was not tall, but she was very broad and possessed an imposing black moustache on her upper lip. Black eyes peered at him suspiciously from under a fringe of dark hair.

"Josef. I was sent by the Health Ministry." Darcy responded hesitantly.

"Oh you." The door swung open. "Well come in, I'll be back tomorrow afternoon with supplies and to see you know what's what and then you're on you're own."

"Yes ma'am." Darcy limped nervously into the room, it was amazing how easily he slid into the character of the nervous, people-shy Josef. Not that this woman's warm welcome made it any more difficult. It was a sarcastic thought and Darcy twisted a wry smile as he closed the door behind the woman, the only advantage the house had over the outside was that there was no wind in the house.

"Who's that?" It was a querulous question and was followed by a dragging step. "Who are you?"

"Josef." Darcy turned and found himself confronted by a nasty looking revolver.

"Josef?" The voice expressed doubt and Darcy had the feeling that the face expressed it as well, but Darcy was not given to studying faces when cannons like that where pointed at his midriff.

"Josef, Josef Herrin, I am a Mountaineer who was born in Basle."

"Mm-hmm." The cannon was restored to a pocket. "Frankly friend I'll believe that when I believe that Kaiser Wilhelm is sitting on the English throne......you should get rid of that Oxford accent of yours, it's a damnable give away."

"Can I not have been educated in England?"

"You have to have been to cop that accent. But frankly I'd sooner believe that you'd spent the better part, if not your entire life, in England....your face is very familiar and unlike a fellow compatriot of mine I'm not going to go off half-cocked, panic and blast you full of holes."

"Sounds like your compatriot is a might touchy with his trigger finger."

"My compatriot is very, very dead. You needn't worry, this place is not bugged."

"Clever man who knows that without looking." Darcy settled into a chair, but his eyes did not leave Elliot who was easing awkwardly down into a chair.

"Care to tell me why your face is familiar?"

"Possibly you have met a relative of mine." Darcy opined.

"Possibly not, it is your face not your features which are familiar.....I suspect England and training camp for a region and will probably have my answer tomorrow."

"So fortunate I recognise you my friend, it is unwise to talk like that in a situation like this."

"And this is?"

"An observation of the state of affairs, nothing more. Who was the beauty queen who met me?"

"Madame Schrank, she is the Matron at the Military Hospital in München."

"Charming aspect, she nearly froze me on the doorstep with her warm welcome."

"Friendly visitors do not tend to visit here."

"True, a visitor is unlikely." Darcy nodded slowly.

"Glad you realise. You can sleep in the room on the right if you like."

"Kind of you." Darcy nodded curtly and didn't bother moving from his seat.

"Aren't you going?" The question was accompanied by a puzzled look.

"No, this chair is warm." Darcy responded simply.

"But there's a bed in the other room."

"Guaranteed to be too short and then my feet will make an access for cold leaks and in this weather I hate cold leaks."

"What ever." Elliot gave a shrug and limped awkwardly from the room.

"Charming." Darcy sank into a silently reverie, staring unblinkingly, cat-like, into the small fire which fizzled in the grate. "Why St. Euvais?"

"Why not St. Euvais?"

"Possibly because it seems to be a godawful hole in the corner."

"The inhabitants would not like to hear you say that."

"I really couldn't care what the inhabitants think right now....and to be honest I couldn't really care what you think either."

"Probably wise."

"That is the stupidest remark I've heard in a long time, and the stupidest remark I have ever heard from a Captain." Darcy finally looked away from the fire and consciously studied the face of the man who was slumped in the chair across from him. Elliot March was indeed very slumped in his chair, in fact Darcy was rather of the opinion that you could not become more slumped without falling off the chair altogether. Darcy considered the face briefly and then compared it with briefly with his memories, without doubt Elliot March had lost a considerable portion of his available weight. The face, which had always been leanish, was now a veritable hatchet, and never very handsome the face was now carved up by deep creases from pain, drugs and worry. Sunken and dull eyes flickered restlessly around the room but focussed on nothing. Darcy smiled a private and very sardonic smile, he knew a morphia addict when he saw one, Captain March was going to become a very unhappy man in the very near future, namely in the morning.

"Finished staring?" Elliot's tone was not pleasant and he clearly made no effort to make it so.

"No....you're going walking with me tomorrow."

"No I'm not." Elliot responded flatly.

"Yes you are....and if you won't walk then I'll carry you. There's no way in hell those nerves will settle down and die unless you encourage them. Morphia is bugger all use except to prolong the whole affair and make the ending one hell of a lot worse."

"You wouldn't dare!" Elliot jerked upright, a faint flush of anger appearing in his cheek.

"Just try me.....and don't even think of using that cannon on me for I'm very good at not getting shot." Darcy responded dryly.

"Why in hell should I use the gun? I'm not quite up to picking fights with the Swiss authorities." Elliot shook his head in disgust. "You just don't know what you're talking about."

"True." Darcy's tone remained dry. "I've merely spent a month walking around with a shattered leg in a brace, remaining operable courtesy of morphia, I have not just had a fused knee. I suggest you try sleep Captain, I may have an Eton accent, but that does not make me an utter fool....wax-tail."

"Darcy?" Elliot stared at Darcy in amazement. "What in hell are you doing here?"

"Darcy is in England, I'm merely Josef."

"Merely my foot....okay sir...Josef. You get me off morphia and I won't forget your name."

"Very kind of you." Darcy gave a yawn. "Get some sleep for I'm going to give you plenty of reasons for being cantankerous in the next couple of weeks."

"You'll have time?"

"Captain, 99% of this work is incredibly boring and very repetitive and frequently is no more than sitting around with your eyes open. I got sent here because you are a very good reason for me to go hobbling all over the place."

"And the 1%?"

"Pure terror and a mad run for your life with someone a yard behind holding a gun.....I hope you can drive."

"I can." Elliot looked puzzled.

"Good, because if I have to make a run for it you'll have precisely eight hours to reach the French-Swiss frontier and hopefully cross it."

"Pleasant thought. Very good Josef, In will retire for the night and practice being cantankerous when I can't sleep."

"Why practice? You're cantankerous enough already." Darcy shot the final barb and then settled himself as comfortably as possible in the chair. 99% boredom, 1% pure terror. And Darcy had to agree with his own analysis. Things would probably plod along for a bit, but when things happened they happened very fast indeed. How long would this quiet last for?

Continued in Next Section