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Author's note:The first part of this post is not friendly, but it was true and it happened a lot. The basic background behind it is that in 1915 the German Navy declared unrestricted submarine warfare. This basically meant that the Germans sank anything and everything on sight without giving crew and passengers time to escape. There was no differentiation between Merchantile Navy and the real Navy, be it passenger or armed it was still sunk. Woodrow Wilson, objecting to the number of American lives and ships which were lost called on the Germans to cease this form of warfare. The Germans, faced with the prospect of the U.S. joining the already formidable Allies, duly ceased sinking on sight, and infact they ceased Submarine warfare all together for a few months. Submarine warfare returned for the simple reason that the Germans were starving, with the allied blockade of the North Sea and the whole of Europe at war, there was no way Germany could get food into their country. So in an effort to break the blockade they resumed Submarine warfare, on the understanding that all crew and passengers could disembark before the ship was sunk, and that unarmed ships with passengers were strictly not to be sunk....though this latter did not last long. This very rapidly proved fatal for, as some might term it, the Allies did not play above the belt. The Allies took to arming ships with hidden weaponry (some were specially designed for this particular task and were the first form of Anti-submarine defense). This move meant that when the German U-boat surfaced to order the evacuation the ship to be sunk usually opened fire and the U-boats were never designed to withstand fire power. With U-boat fatalities on the rise and the blockade still in place it was a situation which could not last. But this post is not about the change in situation.

October 27th 1916 - Cork, Ireland

It barked sharply and the whine was quite familiar to the hardened sailors, it was the sound of a deck cannon firing across their bows. It did not require the Captain's signal for them to start their specific activities. Jensen to the wireless transmitter, Pyke and Hawley to the bows, Bensen, Crawley, Jackens and Shotley to the guns. Merdle had control of the engines and all he had to do was cut back to slow and wait....wait either for water to come rushing through the floor, or wait for the all clear signal which would sound the sinking of another German U-boat. Even over the softly murmuring engines Merdle could hear the harsh, gutteral bark of the U-boat Captain.....A harsh bark which abruptly changed into a terrifed scream, simultaneous with the opening up of the foredeck guns.

"Okay Merdle, open her up and get us out of here." With the Captain's call Merdle pushed the throttle across and then made an intricate manipulation to lock the throttle there. The engine crescendoed to a deafening roar and the boat lunged forward as Merdle cautiously made his way to the ladder. A quick scramble had Merdle back on the deck, but already the U-boat wreckage had sunk from sight.

"Mike!" It was a yell from the foredeck, and Merdle promptly lunged for the bows. Mike Hawley was propping himself, very white-faced, against the bows, his free hand tightly gripping his other shoulder, but for all the white-knuckled grip Merdle could see the blood seeping slugishly between his fingers.

"Catch him!" Merdle lunged across the deck as he saw Hawley waver, the guards were neither high enough, or strong enough to keep him onboard if he fell, and he would certainly die if he fell overboard. There was a crash and a fracturing sound as Pyke lunged across to grab his fellow bowman, and it was only Merdle who managed to grab Pyke's leg as both men seemed to slither overboard. Five minutes desperate struggle saw both men retrieved and brought back into the conscious world.

"I'm going to be sick." Hawley's first words were, in Merdle's opinion, entirely predictable. Infact it would have amazed Merdle if Hawley hadn't felt sick, for sickness invariably seemed to accompany the act of attempting to swallow the Atlantic Ocean.

"Well do it over the side." Merdle was expertly bandaging up the messy hole in Hawley's shoulder.

"That's not why I feel sick." Hawley spat angrily. Merdle paused and looked gravely at the young man, it was Hawley's first cruise with them, and though Merdle had seen many first cruise men, he had never seen a reaction like this.

"Then why do you feel sick?" Merdle creased his brows in perplexity.

"You're in the engine-room, you don't see it. Ask Pyke, we have to watch it.........They blew his face away Merdle." Hawley abruptly rolled over and then retched violently into the sea. "I had to stand there and watch as they blew his face away.....you shouldn't have told him to catch me Merdle." Between sobbing and sickness there was no doubt in Merdle's mind that Hawley was in a mess, but then something struck him. He. The word echoed through Merdle's mind. There had to have been at least three if not four or five people on the deck of that U-Boat, so why was Hawley naming a particular.

"Who?" Merdle was somewhat worried as he voiced the question.

"Hans." Hawley rolled over so he could ease his insides again. "He was my best friend at the Consulate.....and he knew me." The last came as an almost unintelligible murmur.

"Consulate?"

"My father was the British Ambassador to the Prussian Empire, situated in Berlin.......I lived there for four years, and now I will be sick again because I just saw the face blown off my best friend. He might have been German, but he was honest." Hawley dissolved into exhausted sobs again. Merdle frowned for a minute, then removed the hypodermic from his case.

"Get him downstairs." Merdle gave the order curtly as a few of the seamen finally ventured forward.

"Aye!" There was a brief struggle and scuffle as the sedated Hawley was taken below decks, then Merdle turned and crossed to the Captain.

"Captain....do you know if there were any survivors?" Merdle had considered meandering around the point, but then decided against it.

"No." The Captain shook his head firmly, having glanced up briefly from the navigation map. "Shotley made a clean sweep of the decks and no one downstairs would have gotten out......Why do you ask?"

"I ask because I suspect we may need a new bowsman."

"Why do you say that, I didn't think Hawley's shoulder was that bad."

"It's not." Merdle paused. "Or at least not so bad that he would be unable to run bow watch. But what does concern me is his current mental condition."

"Give him time to settle, they all find the first hit a bit rough." The Captain shrugged the matter aside and tried to anchor his focus on the navigation chart again.

"Captain, what would you do if you had to sit by and watch as someone blew the face off your best friend."

"I'd murder the bloody _____ what did it." The Captain's voice hardened.

"Then I hope you will forgive Hawley if he feels the same way Captain."

"Why do you say that, he was the only one injured."

"Captain, Hawley is the son of the last British Ambassador to the Prussian Empire, he just saw Shotley cold-bloodedly blast the face off his best friend......and that friend recognised him. They surfaced so we might evacuate before they sunk us, though I agree in theory, and in practice ninety percent of the time, in this situation I cannot condone the shooting of the men on the foredeck. They did us no harm Captain, and they intended us little harm, but I think we did ourselves a lot of harm. Hawley had the beginnings of a great officer........but I suspect those beginnings are now totally ruined."

"There are times when a ship's surgeon with an equal rank and an all too logical mind is utterly damnable." The Captain finally pushed the navigation chart aside and straightened. "See what you can do for him, and I'll let the crew know."

"Don't." Merdle shook his head. "That will just cause friction, you can feel when people are just holding there tongues and when they just don't want to talk about it. Just let it go as any old sinking, and leave me to try and straighten Hawley out before we dock."

"Well..." The Captain paused, obviously sorting through his thoughts and weighing up the options. "We'll play your game....but I refuse for Shotley to get in strife over this, he was just doing his job."

"I suspect, and hope, that when Hawley has gotten over the initial shock he will fully realise that himself." Merdle turned to leave, then stopped and came back. "Captain, I hate war. I hate this like I have never hated anything in my life......I even hate this more than I hate the Germans."

"You're very fortunate I am not a superior officer."

"It would not have come up if you were. Good evening Captain."

October 31st 1916 - Derbyshire, England

"Happy, happy, happy me!" Young Joseph Fitzwilliam sang loudly as he danced and pranced around the room, but to Darcy it sounded closer to yelling than singing as he tried to smother the sound with his pillow. "Uncle Darcy!" There was an abrupt crash and Darcy bit back on a strong desire to swear as his young nephew landed squarely on his legs. "Uncle Darcy, will you come play chases?"

"Josie!" Darcy finally discarded his pillow in disgust and called for his cousin-in-law.

"Yes?" Josephine reluctantly poked her head into the room, she had been well able to hear the racket her son was causing and it was much to her surprise that Darcy had not called earlier.

"Remove your hell-born brat before I throw him out the window." Darcy looked up from the bed in aggravation.

"What a pleasant thing to hear." Josephine Fitzwilliam gave a wave of her hand and obediantly master Joseph retreated from the room.

"How am I meant to take that?" Darcy's irritation was rapidly giving way to suspicion.

"Take it any way you like, Mr Mountain." Josephine gave a faint smile, well aware that there were few things which irritated Darcy more. "Have to say it is a rare pleasure to have you so situated that you require my assistance to rid yourself of relatives."

"Be careful Josie or I might just skip." Darcy dug his arms down into the mattress and levered himself up into a sitting position.

"Skip? I think I require a translation of that, I have never learnt that slang of yours."

"I might just remove myself from your presence."

"You think you can?"

"Think?....Rubbish." Darcy abruptly swung his bedclothes aside and twisted so his legs hung off the edge of the bed. I moment of concentration and Darcy was in the vertical position and steady. There was a brief pause while Darcy checked his equilibrium and then moving casually, but cautiously, he strolled out of the room.

"Well would you believe that!" Josephine dropped abruptly onto the recently vacated bed.

"Probably." The voice came from the side doorway.

"Jermyn!" Josephine leapt to her feet and flung herself into her husband's arms. "When did you get back?"

"Just arrived, Mokey said you were up here, but Joseph distracted me. What don't you believe?"

"What I just saw.....are you sure he is your cousin?"

"Who....Darcy?" Jermyn gave a chuckle. "Well we share two grandparents so I guess he has to be a relative."

"Go get changed." Josephine abruptly pulled free and wrinkled her nose. "You smell awful."

"Gunpowder, mud, metal and......." Jermyn abruptly stopped, turning to leave quickly.

"I'm sorry." Josephine flew after him.

"Don't be sorry." Jermyn paused, then gave her a brief hug. "Just forgot to have this cleaned before I came home."

"You mean......" Josephine stopped, suddenly realising she might not actually like the answer.

"Yep, what you wrinkle your pretty nose at is the smell of a battle field, with addition of a week's travelling. Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to spoil myself to a big soak and my pyjamas for the next week."

"Why pyjamas?"

"Because I'll be in breach of military ethics if I wear civvy gear." Jermyn gave a smile before leaving again. Josephine watched his retreating back until he turned a corner, then she turned her attention to the problem of finding where Darcy had gone.

"What do you mean he's gone?" Josephine stared with frank disbelief at Nelli.

"Just what I said, he's up and gone with Nash. He said that he would inform you where he was when he reached his destination." Nelli calmly responded.

"Do you continue to stay here?" Josephine creased her brows slightly, she had long since given up trying to second guess Darcy's moves or motives.

"Not unless I'm needed." Nelli's response was calm.

"Well I have to admit that I am very glad I am not attached to him. He must give you the very devil of a time."

"One cannot blame him for a certain fractiousness of temper, there is little more infuriating to an active person then to have enforced inactivity."

"We don't call it activity, we call it bloody-mindedness." Josephine scratched her head. "You puzzle me Sister."

"I puzzle many people." Nelli responded evasively.

"Hmmm." Josephine gave a grunt, then moved away again, leaving Nelli to frown with perplexity after her. To Nelli it made no sense that this woman had not pressed her enquiries further. Though it would have made plenty of sense to Nelli had she known that Darcy put a ban on people enquiring into the background of his people some six to seven years previously. This seemingly pointless ban Darcy had actually made for the simple reason that he was all too well acquainted with the discomfort pointed enquiries could cause....especially when you had something to hide. In Darcy's opinion making staff uncomfortable was his own business, and it you wanted to find something out it had to go through him first.

"What are you doing here?" Bingley stared with undisguised amazement at Nash who was standing outside his library window.

"I'm coming in.......and He's not very far behind me."

"You're making a somewhat large assumption." Bingley blinked, then turned as Darcy came through the window. "What would you have done if I wasn't here?"

"We followed you from the station, we knew for a fact you were here." Darcy smothered an immense yawn, and promptly deposited himself in a nearby chair, ducking his head down.

"I thought you were up in Derbyshire."

"There is only so much a man can take Bingley, and when it comes to coddling and rowdy relatives I've gone well past my limits. I'm counting on you to be a nice ex-officer and for the most part completely ignore me." Darcy cautiously lifted his head, then made a very impolite remark and promptly ducked it again.

"I think this also calls for a bed. Would you object if he used the room he had last year?" Nash looked enquiringly at Bingley.

"Makes no difference to me."

"Then I will go settle us in.......You move at your peril!" Nash's parting remark caused one eyebrow to twitch slightly, but otherwise Darcy showed no response at all.

"If you don't mind my saying sir, you look more like a ghost then last time I saw you." Bingley wrinkled up his nose.

"I won't tomorrow morning." The shoulders shrugged dismissively of the matter, but Darcy's head had not lifted at all. "This interesting pallor should only be due to the fact that I've come the whole way from Derbyshire to London and then back up here in the single afternoon."

"Why London?"

"I had to pick up some things I forgot when I went up to Derbyshire." Darcy gave another shrug.

"Duivel." Nash came abruptly back into the room with a puzzled frown on his face. Bingley took one at the dark-stained coat which hung from Nash's right hand and then abruptly looked away, he was all too familiar with stains that looked like that.

"What?" Darcy finally lifted his head to look across at Nash.

"What's this from?" Nash was holding a slim black book in his left hand. Darcy stared blankly across at the book, then extended his hand. Nash crossed the room and placed it in Darcy's outstretched hand and Darcy turned it over in obvious perplexity.

"Where'd you find it?" Darcy finally flipped it open and blinked at the front page as a deep crease formed between his brows.

"'Twas in yer blue coat.....you should ha' got it to me earlier, I'm none so sure I'll get the stains out now."

"That does not help." Darcy's tone was rapidly becoming irrascible. "When did I last wear it?"

"Paris." The response came laconically.

"Pa......" Darcy stopped abruptly and proved to Bingley that he could indeed become much paler. "Get Parker on the telephone Nash, this is a major emergency." Darcy hauled himself up out of his chair.

"What number?"

"QAG...uhhhh.....1532, or that seems to ring a bell, try it anyway." Darcy was frowning down at the book in his hands. Bingley took a quick glance under Darcy's arm and winced at what he saw:

Lydia	XV I XXV XIII XXI XII XI XXIII VIII XX II XV IX XIX
......Futernshmo	II XXV II XII XIII XII VIII VIII IV XXVI XXV XXI XXIII
Karatina......Shellipti	I XV IV XIV I XIII XV XXIII XXV VI XII VIII XXV VII
.	I XVIII XXI IX VI II XV XIII VI II IV XIX V XXV XIX VI
Maugerinimonsator	XII XIX XV II XIII XXIII XXV X II XII XV XII XIV XXV XII
.	XIX XV

The hand was sprawling and totally unfamiliar to Bingley, it also looked like the person had been trying to learn Roman Numerals or something. Bingley continued watching as Darcy flicked through the book. It was the same the whole way through, cramped yet sprawling hand and all of it was in Roman Numerals, equally spaced from each other, but absolutely no space was wasted, except for the last line on the first page and for the inside of the back cover where the numerals had been sprawled carelessly and hastily across the page. The page was also fairly badly smudged which gave Bingley the impression that the book had been hastily closed as well, before the ink had had time to dry.

"Odd." Darcy was frowning at the page, then he closed the book, shrugged, and shoved it into a back pocket as Nash came into the room.

"Lord Parker is on the telephone."

"Good." Darcy left the room at a very quick walk and Bingley automatically followed. "Parker?" Darcy had the receiver in hand.

"What do you want?" Parker's voice sounded exhausted and exasperated.

"I just remembered what I had wanted to tell you about concerning Paris."

"What is it?"

"A diary......with a name in it." Darcy had abruptly realised that he had been followed, that the operator was probably listening and all of them would recognise the name of Lydia.

"Hers?"

"Yep.....unfortunately it's code and I don't think we have the key."

"Can't you crack it?"

"Parker! I can wreck all manner of things, but cracking codes is not actually my idea of a holiday."

"Well it's going to become one, the Admiralty got a touch aggravated yesterday and the book of one of our minor operatives is not going to cut the ice and get them working......and before you blow your stack Darcy yes she is, overall a minor operative. If you were to compare her with the Count she is indeed minor. Though I will fully admit that it annoys me that they won't touch it. Do what you can, I highly doubt there will be nothing in it for she only recorded things if they were of importance. And even belated information can be useful."

"What we need most is to know Nickel's blasted history so we might possibly get a better idea of where in hell he's gone....... Ahhh, Nash!" Darcy handed the receiver to Nash, but he wasn't quite quick enough to reach the chair he was heading for.

"Hello Lord Parker." Nash was handling the receiver somewhat nervously as his eyes dodged back and forth between Darcy's still form and the clock on the wall. Nash had prevented Bingley from going to Darcy with a curt arm wave.

"What on earth is happening?"

"Not much, he just seems to have skipped his iron dose for the day. Did you have any more you wanted to say to Darcy?"

"No, but can you bring him down to London in the next week?"

"Right, we'll let you know just before we come."

"Good-oh."

"Two minutes." Nash spoke a bit after he hung up the receiver and frowned grimly at the prone figure. "Because I'm not allowed to." Nash dropped down onto the floor and crossed his legs.

"Why not?"

"Because it is Alastair's opinion that by the length of time I've been out for shows how much iron I skipped. In my humble opinion it's garbage for I have not been skipping. Now give me a hand off this hard floor so I can go to bed."

"How long have you been awake for?"

"Eyes actually are not yet awake, but my hearing is."

"Then stay put." Nash hesitated then started coughing, it was a deep bone-shuddering hack and just the sound of it made Bingley feel ill, he did not require to see Nash's pain-wracked face as well. But Bingley was almost immediately distracted from his sympathetic illness.

"Get upstairs and get the windows in my room fully open." Darcy rolled over and was on his feet. Bingley promptly ran, he had only once or twice heard Darcy use that voice, and when he did no one even considered arguing.

Bingley was still struggling with the stiff sashes when Darcy came charging into the room. Nash, still coughing and choking, was in his arms. Bingley watched in amazement as Darcy seemed to nearly dive out the window.

"Hold him here!" Bingley hastily crossed and took a nervous look out before he took over holding Nash from Darcy. The noises the man was making made Bingley feel singularly ill, but what Nash was spitting out made him feel even worse. At one point Bingley risked a quick glance back into the room, but after that look he didn't again.

"Ummm." Bingley was finding the holding of Nash difficult and his arm was wearying fast.

"Coming right now." A loud bang followed Darcy's words and suddenly Bingley found the weight relieved. Darcy didn't even glance at Bingley, he was too busy wrestling to get a face mask onto Nash. "Bing, get the pile of masks from the big suitcase." Bingley turned and left, soon to return with an armload. Darcy promptly grabbed the top one and switched it with the one currently on the pipe. Bingley eyed the used mask and felt his stomach lurch, and his stomach continued to lurch, but fortunately it did not bring anything up. The pile of clean masks was diminishing as fast as the pile of used masks grew, and Nash seemed to be coughing and spluttering just as much as before.

"Darcy......" Bingley began somewhat hesitantly.

"Shut up!" Darcy did even glance up as he curtly interjected. Bingley fell silent, then jumped as first a bell started dingling loudly and Darcy almost simultaneously began cursing. The face mask was abruptly flung into the room and Darcy was hauling Nash back so he wouldn't fall out the window, then he dove for a small suitcase which sat next to the wall. Bingley watched in stunned amazement as Darcy wrenched it open and pulled out first one and then a second broad white cylinder. It was with the second cylinder that Bingley realised that the bell had two pitches. Darcy lunged back across the room and the alarm when silent as Darcy started twisting knobs and wrenching at bolts.

Darcy was cursing steadily as he wrenched away at the complex machine. Bingley had barely even considered offering to help, he didn't know what was going on so he was more likely to hinder than help. Two minutes had ticked passed as a sickening speed and finally Darcy was fishing out a sloppy blood-stained broad cylinder which had once been white. In went a white cylinder and with great speed Darcy was getting bolts back in place.

"Nash!" Darcy yelled abruptly and loudly, Bingley jumped, but Nash didn't twitch a muscle. "DAMN!" Darcy finished the last bolt and was already lunging back to the window trailing tube and face mask. Bingley watched the scuffle by the window, and he suddenly realised that he much prefered Nash coughing and choking than still and silent like this. Five minutes passed before Darcy finally came back from the window, and he merely returned to resumed fiddling with the machine. A minute of so after that he had changed another white cylinder, and with this action the last alarm cut out and the machine, which had been throbbing softly abruptly increased tempo and volume. Darcy then wrestled Nash back in from the window, changed the face mask for one last time before depositing Nash on a hard-backed camp-bed in one corner.

"Darcy....."

"Just a minute." Once again Darcy curtly interrupted before Bingley had said anything, Darcy vanished into the dressing room and a rush of water sounded before Darcy appeared once more wiping his hands. "You were saying?" Darcy crossed to his bed and dropped heavily onto it.

"Well I had been going to ask if you wanted me to get a doctor."

"No, doctor can't do anything. Darcy abruptly kicked his feet up then rolled out of sitting position. "I was totally stupid not to get the mask onto him before we came here......ughh!" Darcy crossed his hands behind his head and stared morosely at his feet.

"Is he......?" Bingley didn't want to complete the question.

"Yes, he's alive." Darcy's eyes danced with comprehending amusement, amusement at Bingley's predicament, not amusement at the whole situation, but for all the amusement in them Bingley could almost feel the underlying tension and uncertainty. Yes, Nash was alive for now.......but would he be alive tomorrow morning?

"What are you going to do now?" Bingley looked somewhat uncertainly at Darcy.

"Now?" Darcy abruptly smothered a yawn. "Now I am going to bed for a couple of days so I can stand up again."

"Food?"

"I'll start coming down for it tomorrow. We won't want anything this evening."

"Okay." Bingley hesitated uncertainly, then his uncertain gaze observed that Darcy had already fallen asleep and somewhat guiltily Bingley hurriedly left. Bingley was at the foot of the stairs when he heard the telephone shrilled.

"Mr Bingley." A puzzled Mrs Parks came into the hall.

"Yes?" Bingley finally stepped off the last step. "Don't worry Mrs Parks, I'll speak to her." Bingley headed for the pantry where the phone was situated and after pausing for a moment he picked up the receiver. "Hello Mrs O'Niell, Charles Bingley here." Bingley heard an exasperated sigh.

"May I please speak to Lieutenant-Colonel Darcy?"

"I'm afraid not, he's currently asleep."

"Well at last I've finally found where he has gone. When you next see him will you inform him to call Pemberley as soon as possible."

"Why? Is something the matter with Georgiana?" Bingley felt a wave of fear, for Darcy would leave immediately if Georgiana was in trouble, even if it killed him.

"Relax, there is nothing wrong with Georgiana." Nelli could easily hear the worry. "As far as I know the problem only concerns a sick relative of one of his staff."

"I'll let him know." Bingley gave a nod. "But I doubt it will be before tomorrow morning at the earliest."

"I'll let them know....you might also tell him that Alastair has been calling around the country after him."

"So call Pemberley and Alastair."

"Thankyou." Nelli was on the point of hanging up the receiver when an inarticulate gurgle from Bingley stopped her. "Something the matter?"

"Well I had hoped you might answer some questions."

"Depends on the questions." Nelli parried cautiously.

"It just concerns Darcy, he turned up on my doorstep without warning, passed out, made rude remarks about Alastair and his theories and has now announced he intends to sleep for the next few days so he can stand up again. On top of that he has said little other else than I'm to ignore him. What I'm asking is should I ignore him, or is he just being himself where he won't go near a medic until he's collapsed."

"For the most part ignore him." Nelli had given a slight laugh. "Keep an eye on him to make sure when he does pass out he doesn't stay down over four minutes. He shouldn't, infact, pass out again. I suspect it was just weariness that caused it so I'd be surprised if he ever gets more than slightly dizzy again."

"Are you sure about that?"

"I'm sure of nothing, I'm just making a relatively educated guess as to what should happen. Which reminds me, tell him also that he had better call me because he is supposedly still under my observation and though I have this telephone number I don't actually know where you are."

"I'll tell him, and I guess I'll just ignore him." Bingley's tone was somewhat reluctant, he couldn't shake the feeling that Darcy must have more wrong with him then just muddled up blood. He couldn't believe that such a paltry thing could so thoroughly throw someone off balance.

"He'll probably thank you if you do."

"Darcy would probably thank the world to ignore him for ever. Okay, I'll pass the calls on to him and make sure he does them when he surfaces again."

"Thanks Lieutenant, I hope he's not too rude to you."

"He probably will be very rude. Cheerio." Bingley hung up the telephone and headed for the Library.

November 2nd 1916 - Kellynch, England

"Hullo, hullo, hullo." Fordingham was scanning an envelope addressed in what had once been a very familiar hand. "Interesting."

"Open it, else I might think you need help opening it." Dakota looked up briefly from his bacon and eggs.

"Hmmmph." Fordingham offered no more than a grunt in response.

"Who is it from?" Phillipa looked up curiously from the end of the table.

"Old Jim." Fordingham was scanning down the closely written page.

"Where is he?"

"Shipley......Blimey! He's got a training ship and is posting off next week."

"Blimey? You say blimey?" Dakota looked up from his eggs again.

"Quiet.....Pip, do you think the Chatsworth would like to take a trip down to Shipley?" Wentworth looked enquiringly across at Phillipa. "I'm going to go, but I was just thinking they might like to make the trip."

"Go and see." Phillipa gave a shrug.

"I will." Fordingham finished his breakfast in three bites and was headed out the door with Dakota on his heels, Dakota was still carrying his plate.

"Admiral." Phillipa was frowning after the two men.

"Yes?"

"Why does Dakota inevitably follow tight on Pepel's heels?"

"Habit I suspect for the most part, but I think it is also a most reprehensible sense of humour."

"Habit?"

"Being the Number One he is required to always be on hand....and he can't be on hand if he's not on Pepel's heels. Hence habit means that if Pepel moves, he moves.....even if that means he leaves carrying half a meal."

"Sense of humour?" Phillipa had long since learnt that it required definite questions to get a coherent answer at all.

"Very reprehensible. Pepel is a definite tyrant, no house of his will ever be peaceful. He needs either a wife who will fight him tooth and nail every inch of the way, or a wife who will totally disregard any order he gives. Dakota takes the third option, the option of carrying out every order to an infuriating degree of precision. At a guess I'd say that Pepel has ticked him off once for being absent, and as a result Dakota is making certain he is never absent."

"Sounds like he's trying to drive Pepel up the wall."

"No." The Admiral shook his head gently. "Trust me, any officer in the Navy would give his commission for such a Number One. You watch Dakota, he keeps an eye on Pepel and he'll take over any conversation which seems to annoy him. Dakota will invariably seem rude and impolite, but a single look from Pepel and he will withdraw from it all. Being a Number One is hell when times are restless, the Captain's annoyance will be taken out on you, you're the scapegoat if anything goes wrong......you're just important enough that you can get in trouble, but not important enough that anyone worries if you get in trouble."

"One wonders why anyone would do it then."

"Pepel was one once......and so was I. There are advantages to being a Number One, but they're of the kind you really can't name." the Admiral wrinkled up his mouth and screwed up his nose.

"Hah! They're coming." Fordingham came back into the breakfast room, with a still eating Dakota dead on his heels.

"Sit down and tell me what is going on?" Phillipa delivered a straight order to her brother-in-law.

"Well I'm going to Shipley the day after tomorrow, accompanied by Mr and Mrs Paul Chatsworth, Mr and Mrs Harold Chatsworth and Miss Anne Marshall. If you want you can accompany us as well."

"How generous." The Admiral gave a yawn. "Shall we go Phillipa?"

"How about we decide on the day.....how long are you going for?"

"Two days, leaving about seven in the morning, returning late on the following day."

"Seven in the morning?" The Admiral's eyebrows shot skywards. "You are joking, no Phillipa we are not attending."

"And who was calling us soft?" Fordingham jabbed back.

"There is a difference between soft and stupid, and rising at seven is most certainly stupid." The Admiral responded calmly, and comprehensively soaked Fordingham's shot, there was no come back Fordingham could think up to that.

"I think this is when the Royal Navy beats a strategic retreat for re-arming." Dakota gave a chuckle as he followed Fordingham out of the room.

November 3rd 1916 - Meryton, England

Elizabeth frowned at her hand in concentration, then with an extra crease her fingers twitched up, curling into a fist. Elizabeth set her teeth and held it while perspiration quickly sprang out on her forehead.

"Lizzie." Jane came charging into the darkening room.

"Oh, hello Jane." Elizabeth willingly gave up the effort to make her fingers function again and looked up at her sister, who was still in nursing uniform. "You better change Jane, mama will be most unimpressed if she sees you like this."

"Oh be quiet Lizzie." Jane waved her hands briefly to silence her sister. "You won't believe who I saw at the Hospital today."

"Who?" Elizabeth didn't bother guessing.

"I saw.....what's his name." Jane waved her hands distractedly. "Oh bother I've forgotten his name....you know the....Darcy, that's the name."

"You saw Mr Darcy?" Elizabeth jerked up from her pillows in astonishment.

"Well I thought it was him, then I realised it wasn't."

"You don't make sense Jane." Elizabeth subsided back onto her pillows.

"Well you know how Mr Darcy had a brother in hospital? He was a Major I think."

"Yes." Elizabeth stirred impatiently.

"Well I'll swear I saw the brother today. He was at the hospital with that queer Mr Nash who was always drifting around Meryton last year."

"What was he doing at the hospital? What did he look like?" Elizabeth jerked up sharply.

"Who?...The brother?.....well he was very large, but much thinner than the Mr Darcy we know, he had a sort of drawn look which made me think he had been sick." Jane paused. "What's the matter Lizzie?"

"He should be back in France by now." Elizabeth shifted irritably as she scowled across the room. "What's he doing here?"

"Lizzie!" Jane abruptly nailed her sister to the bed. "What has got you? I thought you might be glad to hear he was here....after all he was Folin's company officer."

"That is irrelevant, he should be in France, not here."

"Lizzie, you are not making sense. Why should he be in France?" Jane looked doubtfully at Elizabeth. "I don't know." Jane looked startled. "I didn't speak to him, I just saw him. Now sister, settle down and tell all."

"There's nothing to tell....just that he should be back in France, and since he isn't that means there has been problems." Elizabeth easily slid free from her sister and scrambled out of bed, pulling on her dressing gown as she did so.

"You need to 'splain yourself Lizziekins."

"Janeykins, I cain't as they say. It's not my story....besides which I don't know the whole story anyway. Yes, Colonel Darcy has been ill, but he was meant to return to France at least a fortnight ago, and I'm curious to know why not." Elizabeth dug around under her bed and retrieved a pair of slippers. "Now come Jane, I want a walk outside and you know mama won't let me unless someone accompanies me."

"You're going to have to 'splain soon Lizzie."

"Jane trust me." Elizabeth abruptly caught Jane's shoulders. "I don't know enough to tell anything reliably, so please leave it alone. I was just surprised....probably all that happened was he had a relapse of the typhoid or something."

"Mmm." Jane obligingly dropped the subject and the two sisters slipped willingly out of the house. It was on occasions like this that Elizabeth was really glad that her sister was a nice trusting soul. He wouldn't have hesitated in the Rue Challon had he suspected that you even considered targetting the disabled. Nash's words echoed through her mind as she paced back and forth along the overgrown gravel path with Jane. Who was 'he'? As far as Elizabeth knew there was only one person in Nash's vocabulary who solely appeared as 'he' and that particular person should not have been any closer to Paris than Derbyshire. Elizabeth abruptly stopped walking.

"Jane, do you remember if anything came back with Lydia's coffin?"

"Well I seem to remember that papa got a letter detailing the things which had been in her possession at the time, and what had happened to them, and where he could recover them from."

"Do you remember if it was handwritten or typewritten?" Elizabeth had given a nod as Jane's remark hit a chord in her memory.

"I.....I think it was handwritten." Jane frowned in perplexity. "Yes, I'm sure it was handwritten for I remember papa voicing surprise over it."

"I could well believe that." Elizabeth walked a few more laps of the path, then abruptly decided that she was tired of walking and started back to the house.

"Lizzie! Jane!" Kitty came flying out of the house, a tablecloth fluttering from one hand.

"What is it Kitty?" Elizabeth paused in her walk.

"'Tis Netherfield Park, why mama is quite beside herself." Kitty's eyes were gleaming gleefully.

"What about Netherfield?" Elizabeth pulled her belt in closer.

"Why, nought but what Lieutenant Bingley is said to have returned."

"How fortunate for Mr Bingley." Elizabeth muttered the remark as Kitty ran back to the house.

"Lizzie!" Jane protested.

"Well he is." Elizabeth exclaimed warmly. "I think it most brave for him to return, trust me, mama is already planning your wedding, complete through to which minister you shall use and how many of her 'particular' friends she can invite to see you....though I suspect she may be disappointed." Elizabeth glanced out across the fields, her mind fleeing back to the fuss the previous year, it had been his Lieutenancy which had caused most of the initial excitement, though his money had helped....what would the response be now he wasn't a Lieutenant.

"What do you mean by that?.......Are you hiding something from me?.......You are! Tell me Lizzie, what do you know of Lieutenant Bingley that none of us know?"

"Jane." Elizabeth paused, was it fair to do this? Was it wise? "He is Mr Bingley....not Lieutenant Bingley."

"What?" Jane frowned. "What happened to him? Do you know?" Jane's tone abruptly became worried.

"He lost an arm at Somme Jane, I believe it was just after you returned to England." Elizabeth remembered grimly the flippant manner in which Bingley had introduced the topic, so similar to numerous other stories she had heard. The loss of an arm had had quite an impact on Bingley Elizabeth knew, no matter how drolly he recounted the feeling of lying there clutching where you once had an arm and watching as rats feasted on the severed member. As Bingley observed at the time, he was quite amazed at how much pain one could tolerate when one knew one's life depended on it.

"JANE!" Mrs Bennet's shriek came across the yard, and with rolled eyes Elizabeth headed for the house.

"Is he alright?" Jane grabbed Elizabeth's arm just before they entered the house.

"Well he was alive and learning to accomodate for its loss when I saw him......Though I will admit that he did cross into the profane when he met an untopped egg on the breakfast table."

"Lizzie!" Jane dropped Elizabeth's arm as she made the laughing protest. "That is not at all funny."

"You speak nothing but the truth Jane, it was indeed most offensive to my sensibilities to hear him.....and even more offensive that that egg ended up on the floor and was eaten by Dougal."

"Lizzie!" Jane slapped Elizabeth lightly on the shoulder before she finally hurried into the house. Elizabeth paused just inside the house and abruptly went to the library.

"What's up Lizzie?" Mr Bennet looked up gravely from his checker board.

"I was wondering whether could see the letter which said what Lydia had on her when she was found." "Oh, I've just been inspecting her stuff and that locket of hers is missing." Elizabeth crossed to the desk and after a moments search she abstracted the letter in question. "I'll be back with it in a minute." Elizabeth took the stairs on a run, hoping that her father hadn't remembered that there had been several months when she had been wearing that self-same locket. Elizabeth locked her door behind her as she reached her room, then crossed to her writing desk and opened a small draw, drawing out several letters from it and the locket in question. Elizabeth studied the locket for a minute, a move she had repeated more then once before, but as with every other time it made no sense, so Elizabeth laid the locket aside and picked up the letters. It took Elizabeth a minute to sort them, for there were not that many of them, but finally she picked up one and opened it. Seven pages written in a close and cramped hand, seven pages which brought back several memories Elizabeth was all too willing to forget, but at the same time these seven pages might answer a question which had been annoying her. Having scrutinised the cramped hand for a minute, Elizabeth flicked to the letter she had borrowed from her father. The writing was more sprawled, but it was still that perfect copper plate and totally unmistakeable." Elizabeth stared numbly at the page in front of her.

"Lizzie!" The door handle rattled.

"Just a minute Kitty." Elizabeth hurriedly restored the letters to their draw before stripping off her bathrobe and scrambling awkwardly into her trousers and a shirt.

"Oh heavens, mama will have a fit." Kitty had taken a single startled look at Elizabeth's appearance.

"Why?" Elizabeth stepped back so Kitty could enter.

"Well...." Kitty paused. "Mr Bingley has just arrived and I was sent to bring you downstairs."

"Which means a dress.....help me Kitty, I can't get into one with only one hand."

"Then how did you get into those." Kitty indicated the trousers somewhat nervously.

"They button at the front Kitty." Elizabeth was dragging a dress out of her cupboard and awkwardly began the process of changing once more.

"Well I think I'll take you as a summary lesson not to fall downstairs."

"Falling down the stairs was not the problem Kitty." Elizabeth awkwardly pushed her hand into a sleeve then turned her back so Kitty could button her up. "The problem was that I broke my fore arm and hand in the process of falling."

"Just a minute Lizzie, stop jerking around." Kitty finished fastening the back as fast as she could. "There, now even mama shouldn't find fault in your attire."

"Meaning I'm nicely enough dressed that I'm uncomfortable, but not so beautifully gowned that I might actually draw attention."

"Rubbish Lizzie, now quickly." Kitty caught Elizabeth's arm and they headed for the stairs. They made the parlour only seconds before the visitors were announced.

"Mr Bingley and.....and friend." Hill withdrew stiffly, there had been some external prompting in that announcement.

"Mr Bingley!" Mrs Bennet went surging forward with an effusive greeting.

"How do you do Mrs Bennet." Bingley gave formal half bow.

"I'm well, and so are all the girls. You must come in. Hill tea."

"Thankyou." Bingley entered somewhat awkwardly. "Why, you are not in uniform!" It was a startled exclamation.

"No Mrs Bennet, I was discharged on medical reasons." Bingley cast a rueful glance over his shoulder, but Elizabeth had still been unable to see who had accompanied him. "You coming in?"

"Just a minute Bing." The voice in the hall was familiar, and Mrs Bennet promptly frowned in disapproval. Elizabeth's brows rose, it was more than a minor astonishment that her mother remembered him at all, it would appear that Mr Darcy had made an extremely bad impression.

"What's up?" Bingley turned back towards the door, and Mrs Bennet's sudden gasp clearly indicated that she had just noticed that he had no right sleeve at all. "Oh sorry. How do you do ladies?" Bingley turned back to the room and gravely continued his greetings.

"You've lost an arm?" There were times when Kitty reminded Elizabeth strongly of Lydia though mostly in the fact that they both had no tact at all on some subjects.

"Why yes Miss Kitty." Bingley gave a good humoured grin. "I had a minor disagreement with a lump of German metal.... unfortunately it won the battle and I paid the price of an arm from my arrogance in taking it on in battle."

"When?"

"Just a couple of months ago, Miss Kitty."

"Could you tell me about it?"

"No Miss Kitty I'm afraid I can't. My only memory is that of thinking some brute had kicked me in the shoulder, then I woke up and I was in hospital."

"Oh, how dull." Kitty dropped the matter. Elizabeth gave Bingley a smile of greeting and he responded by tipping a rueful eyebrow.

"Does it hurt?"

"I beg your pardon?" It took Bingley a minute to realise that the question had been addressed to him.

"I asked if it hurt?" Mary repeated her question.

"What hurt?" Bingley was totally at sea.

"Losing your arm."

"Oh that! No, I was anaesthetised." Bingley shook his head and tried once more to get across to sit between Jane and Elizabeth. This time his attempt was successful. "Hello sir!" It wasn't until Bingley bounded to his feet once more that they realised that their numbers had increased.

"Really Bing." Other than this reprimand the only greeting Darcy gave was a curt nod to the company. Elizabeth noted that Jane's description was accurate.

"Mr Darcy." The scorn in Mrs Bennet's voice could hardly be called veiled.

"I think you mistake me for my brother madam." This cool response was accompanied by a fit of choking from Mr Bingley.

"I appologise Mrs Bennet, permit me to introduce Colonel Darcy, my former Battalion Officer."

"How do you do." Mrs Bennet's greeting could be called nothing but grudging.

"He would probably do better for a cup of tea and a seat Mrs Bennet." With this remark Mr Bennet came into the room, followed by Hill who was carrying the necessary materials.

Elizabeth was later to declare that she had never sat through a more trying half hour, than the half hour which that call took. Conversation on the part of Mrs Bennet had been varying between effusive interest and near rudeness. Mr Bingley had stayed politely responding to any question, but getting as many questions to Jane as he possibly could. Mr Bennet had sat there in complete silence the whole time, and except for the odd, monosyllabic answer, so too had Colonel Darcy sat. Elizabeth had also maintained silence as the best option, though there had been many questions she wished to ask, not the least of which was about Darcy's ascension in rank. Mary had spent five minutes trying to draw Colonel Darcy into a discussion of the rightness and wrongness of war, but failing there she had recoursed to her book. Kitty had asked questions of everyone, and she followed Elizabeth back upstairs when the two men had departed.

"Lizzie." Kitty started as she struggled with the back of Elizabeth's dress.

"What?"

"Mr....Colonel Darcy was awfully quiet."

"Colonel Darcy was not quiet Kitty, he was monosyllabic and silent.....and I don't blame him."

"Why don't you blame him?" Kitty paused in her work and came round to frown at Elizabeth.

"How, dear Kitty, would you like for someone to question you on your reasons behind having taken over the housekeeping here?"

"But why should someone ask?" Kitty was puzzled.

"Why should Mary question why Colonel Darcy went to war?"

"But that's much more important!" Kitty was totally bewildered, but she abruptly returned to undoing the back of Elizabeth's dress.

"No it's not Kitty. Sure, if they weren't there there would probably be Germans in England by now. But the people on the front are no good if the civillian side doesn't keep going. Young men are needed to replace the fallen men, money is needed to fund what is done, and eventually pretty much everything comes back to how smoothly the old-fashioned home is working."

"But...." Kitty paused. "But there must be a reason for why he did, he joined before the war started."

"Many joined because that was the only occupation open to them......but in the case of Colonel Darcy, he didn't enlist until the beginning of the war."

"Then......but how can he be a Colonel?"

"Don't know, possibly it comes from good luck, more likely it comes from hard work."

"How do you know all this?" Kitty had finished with the back of the dress so she came back around to the front.

"Because..." Elizabeth paused as she escaped from the dress. "I have inside..." Elizabeth pulled the voluminous shirt over her head. "Information......namely he was Ben's Company Officer." Elizabeth awkwardly did up the buttons and pulled her trousers up.

"He was Folin's Company Officer? I didn't think people could grow that big......are you sure it isn't a hum?"

"KITTY!" Elizabeth's protest was laughing. "I'm quite sure it is not a hum, Ben most impolitely referred to him most of the time as 'that Mountain'."

"Well I guess it's so then......But he doesn't look nearly as impressive as Mr Bingley ever did."

"I suspect his sartorial magnificence will improve if we see him in a formal situation. He came today to see papa, I think it caught him by surprise when Hill announced him to us."

"You seem to know everything, Lizzie."

"No Kitty, I just know a working uniform when I see one."

"Oh....did you know mama has invited them for dinner three days after tomorrow?"

"No....oh great!" Elizabeth subsided on her bed.

"Lizzie you are being strange."

"How rude." Elizabeth sniffed, then chuckled. "Oh Kitty, I think I'm going crazy." Elizabeth abruptly tightened her hand and it curled up into a good first, though it took considerably longer to straighten out fully. "If I pass the medical on this arm next week I'm being sent to France.......and I think I'm nearly scared.

Mr Bennet sighed as he paused to wind up the clock, Colonel Darcy had said he was coming this evening but he had yet to arrive and Mr Bennet did not like staying up late. Mr Bennet turned the lamp down before he crossed to the bookcase and pulled out another book.

"Do you mind if I come in?" The voice caused Mr Bennet to jump, and turning sharply he observed Colonel Darcy standing in the open window......a window he had only just locked.

"I can hardly object." Mr Bennet returned the book to the case.

"You could infact complain at great length and very loudly, in which case I'd either retreat very quickly, or I would get very embarrassed."

"How did you get that window open?" Mr Bennet frowned at the immense man.

"I didn't use a key." Darcy paused. "Could I possibly sit down?"

"Go ahead, you've yet to tell me why you're here."

"Came to speak to you on what could be an awkward matter." Darcy settled into a nearby chair and ducked his head . "If you'll ignore me for a minute." Silence reigned in the small library until Darcy finally lifted his head again. "I appologise for that, I'm actually here on convalescence leave and occasionally I run into slight problems."

"Shell?"

"Typhoid and bloodloss actually, shell laid me out last year and I think I'll take shell any day."

"Why did you come so late?"

"Because more than one person would have a fit if they knew I had come here for a second time."

"You sound like a pleasant patient.....but I doubt you came to discuss that, so what brought you?"

"Well I actually have two reasons. One I came because I was informed by my brother's valet that you had asked to see me, and two I was asked by the Foreign Office to come here."

"How about you deal with the Foreign Office stuff first, then we'll continue with why I asked you to visit."

"Did you know Lydia kept a working record?"

"No."

"Did she have any place where she kept private papers, important objects, anything like that?"

"Not that I know of. Why do you ask?"

"Your daughter left what we suspect is a working record, unfortunately it is in code and we need the key."

"I can't help you, Elizabeth might but Lydia kept that stuff very much to herself."

"I would have expected little else, but we had hoped for it would save us a lot of trouble."

"Speak to Lizzie she might know something."

"I hope so." Darcy took a deep breath, he had not been joking when he had observed to Parker that he did not consider code cracking a holiday activity. But at the same time a bell started to ring, a bell which Darcy could not silence, or place. "Why did you want to see me?"

"I actually wanted to see you so I could settle a somewhat nagging feeling I had."

"And has it settled it?"

"Possibly." Mr Bennet suddenly smiled. "I hope my son was not too infuriating as a subordinate officer."

"Closer to an insubordinate officer, but no, he was a very reliable Lieutenant and he was a sad loss."

"I'm glad to hear it." Mr Bennet paused. "Could you answer a question?"

"Possibly."

"Of a family of three children, one is a daughter, one died many years ago......and yet there are two brothers?"

"I've heard of stranger things." Darcy responded calmly.

"I see." Mr Bennet's lips twitched as he gave an understanding nod. "Don't worry, I won't ask any further."

"Why did you suspect at all.....other than you knew my brother was deceased?"

"I didn't......At the time I knew nothing about your family at all. You actually gave yourself away at the dance at Netherfield....when you lifted that Lieutenant off the floor."

"I really was kicking myself after that." Darcy shook his head ruefully. "I don't believe I was so furious in my entire life."

"Have to admit that I don't know why, but you went down like a felled tree."

"I had no choice." Darcy's tone was somewhat curt. "My good leg slipped and I've have re-broken my other leg if I'd even tried to catch myself, so I opted to hit the floor, but a rap on the funny bone with my landing really put the icing on the cake. I was very tempted to throw the man out the window."

"You looked pretty murderous......infact you reminded me very much of my first Battalion Officer........the day the 18th beat us at polo."

"You played polo?"

"Very badly." Mr Bennet gave a laugh. "We couldn't be bothered on getting suitable horses so we actually got beaten every time we played. But at the time I didn't actually know that.....so I was appropriately terrified."

"That must have made your Colonel happy, nothing like a subordinate officer who shows suitable fear and respect for you."

"Somehow I doubt you have a problem with that, Colonel....and if you did I would say it must have been the most unwise Boxing Blue Oxford ever gave out."

"You're not the only one who thinks that, I can't box for to save myself."

"Then how did you get it?" Mr Bennet raised a quizzical brow.

"I averaged half a foot extra height on my opponents. Basically I could hit them long before they could even reach me."

"That's not what my son ever reported. Infact he seems to have referred more then once to the fact that you could take on the entire company and still win....."

"Your son exaggerated I fear, though admittedly I can hold my own in a rough house fight."

"That's what it sounded like from his comments. Do you want to borrow a sofa, or are you going to return to Netherfield now?" Mr Bennet had observed a few cautious looks towards the window.

"Well I'm reluctant to impose on you....." Darcy paused. "Unfortunately it's also dark out there, it's a three mile walk, and I know for a fact I'm just plain not going to make it back."

"Well you can borrow the couch over there, or you can take a risk of beds."

"I'll take the floor if you don't mind actually, I am not partial to drooping over the end of furniture."

"Blankets?"

"Skip."

"Right-ho." Mr Bennet gave a nod.

It was a faint creak, but it had Darcy awake, up, and out the window....with the window locked behind him, before the intruder had even begun to open the door. Darcy hunched down behind some distinctly ugly bush which he could not name, and kept his attention focussed on the room he had just left.

Elizabeth had hesitated outside the Library door, it annoyed her more than slightly that Mary had asked her to bring back a book of sermons for Elizabeth had not exactly intended to leave the Library again. With a sigh Elizabeth entered and went straight to the bookcase and she scowled darkly at the array of books, before with a quick grin she pulled one book of the shelf and started back for the door....only to stop short and frown in perplexity at something on the floor.

Darcy promptly craned his neck, what on earth had she seen to stop her like that?......Then Darcy remembered and clapped his hand to his pocket, which was indeed empty. Darcy continued to watch tensely, if she picked it up he was going to have to get it back. It was with relief that Darcy observed that Elizabeth had just moved on and the second the door was closed behind her he was back through the window and the book was securely back in his pocket. Darcy hesitated uncertainly by the window, he was on the verge of leaving, but it was not precisely polite to leave without thanking your host first. The hesitation was Darcy's undoing because while hesitating the door had opened and Elizabeth returned to the room.

"Colonel Darcy!" To say Elizabeth was surprised would have been an understatement.

"Miss Elizabeth." Darcy greeted her gravely.

"I had....you...." Elizabeth spluttered in embarrassment. "Your sister, is she well?"

"She was quite well when I last saw her." Darcy responded gravely, somewhat relieved that this time it was not him who was totally embarrassed.

"I...I'm pleased to hear it." Elizabeth shifted uncertainly.

"Lizzie!" Mary's abrupt arrival interrupted the uncomfortable meeting, and Darcy nodded a brief farewell to both ladies.

"Tell your father I was sorry to miss him." Darcy promptly ducked out the window and headed for Netherfield as quickly as he could.

"What's the matter Mary?" Elizabeth turned back to her sister feigning surprise, even though she knew precisely what the problem was.

"This is a critique of Fordyce's Sermons, not Fordyce's Sermons. How can you have been so stupid!"

"I really don't know." Elizabeth had in the passed couple of minutes abruptly lost interest in catching the map up to date. Infact all she really wanted to do was go back to bed and spend the day reading frilly, frivolous novels which were studded with maidens who would have made Jane look like a hag, and men who most certainly would have won gold in every event at the Olympic games....not mentioning the fact that they also outshone a certain Colonel Darcy in the looks department......Though Elizabeth had to admit that she actually preferred the Colonel's looks when compared to any thrilling hero in any of all the frilly and frothy novels she had acquired over the years.

November 4th 1916 - Netherfield, England

"And where might you have been?" Bingley's words caused Darcy to glance up from his loaded plate.

"Somewhere..." Darcy waved an uncertain hand. "I left a book at the Bennets and had to retrieve it."

"And that took the whole night?"

"I told you to ignore me Bingley." Darcy finally lifted his head completely, an irritated frown crossing his features.

"A bit hard when there a three telephone calls you continue not to make."

"Calls?" Darcy was now bewildered.

"I told you yesterday, and I told you the day before. Mrs O'Niell called up to say that Dr Alastair wanted to speak to you, as did someone at Pemberley....and she also wanted to speak to you herself. And last night it seems some Danning called up after you."

"Danning?" Darcy jerked up in his seat. "Did he say what he wanted?"

"No, just that it was important."

"Bother." Darcy abruptly rubbed his head, then pushing his plate aside he left the table.

"Where are you going?"

"To make those calls. Danning wouldn't call unless it was bad..." Bingley didn't hear the rest of the remark, and grabbing his bread roll he ran after Darcy, who was already arguing with the operator while trying to get a call through to London.

"Danning." The curt response told Darcy that his call had finally got through.

"Darcy here, I got told you came calling after me."

"That's right, sir. You spoken to Pemberley yet?"

"No, why?"

"Speak to Pemberley first, then call me."

"Okay." Darcy ended the connection abruptly and was soon connected to Pemberley.

"Pemberley, Mrs Reynold's speaking."

"Darcy here Mrs Reynolds....what's the matter?"

"Ahh, you'll want to speak to Mrs Annesley, not me."

"It's not Georgiana is it?" Darcy felt a spike of alarm and hurriedly clamped down on it.

"No Mr Darcy, Miss Georgiana is in fine health, you might even be able to hear the piano if you listen closely, no this just concerns Mrs Annesley."

"Okay." Darcy rubbed his face wearily and lounged against the wall while Mrs Reynolds went to find Mrs Annesley.

"Mrs Annesley speaking." It was nearly five minutes later when his sister's companion's calm voice came over the lines.

"Darcy here Mrs Anneley, what's the problem?"

"Nothing concerning Miss Georgiana, I've rarely seen her in better health."

"Then what's the problem....and while I remember sorry about being so long calling back."

"No matter." There was a hesitation. "Mr Darcy, I was wondering whether it would be too difficult for me to have a few months of leave?"

"Any particular reason?" Darcy had to admit he was reluctant to give leave since that required that he find some one else to accompany Georgiana, and Georgiana tended to be a bit picky about who she was around.

"My sister's husband has just come back from France and is missing his legs. I was hoping you might permit me to go and aid my sister both with his care and with arranging the house to cope with his infirmities."

"I see." Darcy bit his lip, hastily scrolling through his mind after people who might be appropriate, but there were not many of them. "Mrs Annesley, is Georgiana there?"

"I'll just get her sir."

"Hello?" Georgiana sounded somewhat nervous.

"It's me. George, how would you feel about having Mrs O'Niell replace Mrs Annesley, at least for a few months?"

"I wouldn't mind." Georgiana's response was cautious.

"Yes or no George."

"I'd like to have her."

"Okay, stay by the telephone and keep your fingers crossed, I'll be calling back in half an hour."

"Okay."

"Bye George." Darcy cut the call once more and asked for another connection to Derbyshire.

"Josephine speaking."

"Ahh Josie! Fitzwilliam here, is Mrs O'Niell still with you?"

"She could hardly be anywhere else since you haven't made contact since you left." Josephine Fitzwilliam's voice was somewhat acidicly edged by annoyance.

"True, well put her on Josie and when I'm finished talking to her I'll let you tell me how marvellous young Joseph has been."

"You are abominably rude! Here she is and I will most certainly pity any woman foolish enough to marry you."

"What was that about?" It was Nelli who spoke next, Darcy having wisely chosen to hold his tongue.

"I think Lady Fitzwilliam was somewhat annoyed at a question I asked. How are you Nelli?"

"I'm quite well. Did you wish to speak to me for a reason?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact I did. You heard about the fuss at Pemberley?"

"Something to do with a relation of Mrs Annesley?"

"The very one." Darcy paused realising that he was skating on thin ice. Were he to word this wrongly Mrs O'Niell was quite able to take it as an insult, or charity, or both, and both would sink the matter. "Which is good since it means I don't have to explain it all. Look I was wondering if you'd do me, and my sister, and basically the whole world a favour."

"Is this a tactful Darcy I hear? I am now getting seriously worried."

"No, I'm not being tactful in the slightest, but the fact remains that my sister is going to be without a companion and as you are aware she is also decidedly picky about who does and doesn't know that she can't see. Anyway, having seen that you seemed to survive with her when we were at Pemberley, I was wondering whether you would object overly much to the task of being her companion, at least for a few months."

"W-ell." Nelli audibly hesitated, she was in no hurry to accept any type of pity work, and she was quite well aware that it was within Darcy's ability to do such a stunt. But at the same time the remarks concerning his sister were true and it certainly wasn't work Nelli was averse to. "Yes, I'd like to."

"I'll set things up and tell you when to arrive."

"Thankyou." After Darcy had broken that connection it took him ten minutes all told to settle everything else and with a sigh he finally finished with the telephone and headed back for the library and a comfortable chair.

"What did Danning want?" It hadn't been until Darcy had spoken to the man for the second time that Bingley remembered that Danning was actually the Darcy solicitor and financial advisor.

"Me in London." was the curt response. "Can you keep Nash here? He's in too horrible a condition for me to risk carting him down to London with me."

"But...." Bingley protested.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure there's someone who can help you if he actually has a problem.......though who is totally beyond me." Darcy scratched his head.

"What about Miss Bennet?"

"She's an on-duty nurse, it means that minimum I'll need to get two to help you because she couldn't get here fast enough from the hospital.....if they'd let her go at all."

"Oh." Bingley paused. "Miss Elizabeth?"

"Isn't she also on hospital duty?" Darcy's question was answered by a curt headshake.

"No, she's actually on convalescence leave."

"Conval.....Why?" Darcy looked honestly startled.

"Mixed reasons I think, there was Lydia, then she fell down the stairs and broke an arm and I think her hand....but I could be wrong, ask her and she'll probably deny it all."

"I might do so." Darcy abruptly bit his finger and frowned.

"Do what? Ask her if she did break...."

"Don't be limp Bing, ask her to deal with Nash of course." Darcy shook his head and frowned at the wall. "But is one day......" Darcy died away abruptly and fairly scowled at the wall.

"Sir, will you please eat your breakfast, I was actually hoping to go over to Longbourn."

"Alright." Darcy rubbed his chin. "And yes I'm coming with you, and yes I will murder you if you dare actually let that swine introduce me to the parlour again."

"It wasn't my fault, you didn't even tell me you didn't want to go in."

"I would have thought it a logical conclusion, I wasn't precisely in dress uniform." Darcy rolled his eyes, then settled down and made short work of his morning meal, and he was still chewing when he left the room.

"Darcy!" It was ten minutes later when Bingley came jumping up the stairs after his friend.

"Just a tick." There was a loud crash from Darcy's room, followed by a round of cursing.

"You alright?" Bingley hadn't like the sound of that.

"Fine!" The cursing paused just briefly to give the response.

"Can I come in?"

"No."

"Okay, but hurry up!"

"I said I'd be out soon and I meant it.......Stop being stupid Nash or I'll throw you out the window. And I just changed my mind Bing, you can let that stuffy butler of theirs announce me."

"Why?"

"Because Nash polished all my tin yesterday and it wouldn't do to disappoint him." Darcy's response was followed immediately by some protest, but it was too faint for Bingley to make out.

"Enter the vainest man in the world, I wonder how you keep him in the trench." Nash wandered out shaking his head, Darcy was immediately behind him looking somewhat annoyed.

"Whew." Bingley let his breath out abruptly. "No wonder you never wore it all before."

"It would look like plate mail if I wore the miniatures." Darcy glanced down briefly at the impressive lines of ribbon which adorned his left breast. "Get moving Bing or I'm going right back in and stripping them off again."

"From your remarks I expected you'd be in the miniatures."

"Don't be an ass, those are all at Pemberley.....I really don't know why I carry these around."

"It's so I can polish the bars when I'm bored." Nash spoke as he retreated into the room.

"I continue to wonder why I ever kept him?" Darcy seemed to be speaking to the wall.

"Because I'm the only person you can be rude to."

"Let's go Bing, move it."

"Yes sir." Ten minutes later with a scratch of gravel and a roaring engine the Netherfield motor came to rest with one wheel only a few eighths of an inch short of a garden.

"Well if we receive any commendations it will be because you did not actually enter the garden." Darcy shot a quick look over the top of the window before he finally opened his door and left the car. "It's a wonder it still drives the way you treat it."

"Gah!" Bingley leapt up the stairs and pressed the bell and a couple of minutes later they were being shown into the parlour.

"Why Mr Bingley, Colonel Darcy." Mrs Bennet surged forwards, and while Bingley responded just as effusively, Darcy satisfied himself with a brief nod he never knew what to say to this woman. While Mrs Bennet began talking, Darcy satisfied himself with a glance around the room, though the notable absence of two people brought a faint crease to his brows.

"Oh Mary, do show Colonel Darcy to the Library, I'm sure Mr Bennet would be delighted to see him......and ask Lizzie to come here for a minute."

"Yes mama. If you will follow Colonel?" Mary headed out of the room, and after casting a speaking glance at Bingley over Mrs Bennet's head, Darcy followed her.

"The Library?"

"Colonel Darcy to see you papa." Mary didn't bother answering as she opened the door into the Library.

"Enter Colonel.....anything else Mary?"

"Mama wanted to speak to Lizzie for a minute."

"Okay Lizzie, you are excused from your industrious sorting of those papers." Mr Bennet's permission caused Darcy to choke, for Elizabeth had been sitting on the pile of newspapers reading a novel.

"How generous of you papa. Come Mary." Elizabeth left the room quickly and closed the door firmly behind herself, it was very nearly a slam.

"Care to take a seat Colonel......indeed, you do seem to polish up impressively."

"My valet's fault.....or perhaps henchman is more accurate, he was moaning that no matter how much he polished them I never wore them, so I pacified him." Darcy gave a shrug.

"You seem to have been somewhat active, at least half of them are barred.......now why don't you have the V.C.? You have the Croix de Guerre."

"I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and fortunately a shell didn't get me."

"What happened oh bashful Colonel?" Mr Bennet's brows rose, for the Croix de Guerre was not precisely handed out with lunch.

"Well, I was returning from H.Q. in the dark and sort of took a wrong turning. As a result instead of returning to the barracks I ended up somewhere on the french lines with a company which had just lost their Major. I sort of realised that I was going to have to save them if I was to save myself, so I sort of saved them and we also ended up with some twenty odd prisoners and a German archie battery to our credit. I didn't have the intelligence to clear out before it reached the higher ranks that there was a visitor, and then I was even dafter to give my actual name to them. I thought nothing of it until my Colonel turned up about a month later and quizzed me on the subject. At the time I wondered how he knew of it since I had told none, and then he told me that I had to report to H.Q. to find out the details of picking up a 'thankyou gift from the French Government', it wasn't until about five seconds before I got it that I was warned it was this confounded thing." Darcy indicated the ribbon in comment.

"Is that the time when you tried to strangle my brother?" It wasn't until Elizabeth spoke that the two men realised that she had returned.

"Round about.....I think it was actually the day before....but I will admit that it depends on the occasion."

"You strangled Ben more than once?" Elizabeth was honestly startled.

"Only once was it unintentional, and only once was he actually injured by it."

"You seem to have a partiality for strangling Colonel."

"There is nothing more certain to keep the men awake when on watch than the fear that I might just turn up and....errr.....caress their wind-pipes."

"It would certainly be a strong incentive for one to stay awake.....Colonel, lend Lizzie a hand with that cofounded map of hers so she can stop asking me questions about battle fields I have never been on......what did mama want?"

"Umm." Elizabeth paused and glanced nervously at Darcy.

"By the look I assume you were sent to keep me away so I can't interfer with your sister and my former Lieutenant." Darcy gave a nod as Elizabeth's flush gave away the accuracy of his guess. "Never fear, I'm proud to be considered such a danger to your sister's hopes. Now show me the map before I revert too much to type."

"Which type?" Mr Bennet's quizzical brow rose again.

"Army type." Darcy gave the response as he followed Elizabeth to where the map was spread out. "Help, Ypres is five miles out of place."

"How do you know?" Elizabeth scowled at him.

"That's about Hill 60, and the Sanctuary wood's here."

"Any other point to correct?"

"No, that's the only one I could place on this sort of map." Darcy paused. "And the only reason I know that one is because March breeched all military ettiquette and gave me a real dressing down because I couldn't pin point the Ypres Salient within two miles on anything but an official or aerial map."

"Breech?" Elizabeth shot him a sharp look.

"It is by any military ettiquette I know a breech for a Lieutenant to give a Lieutenant-Colonel a dressing down."

"What did you do Colonel?"

"I thanked him for my lesson in Geography."

"Well how about I name the places and you can plant the flags, so then you'll really know your geography."

"You're doing the whole thing?"

"Nearly, but we're a bit foggy on Africa."

"Cross your fingers and hope Ashie comes here some time, I'm sure he'll catch up your positions."

"He's likely to come here? Last I heard he was down in Africa."

"A slight disagreement with the higher ranks saw him arrive in France....in a Labour Battalion. He's since been yanked out of that and is in the Flying Corps."

"How about we give up on this map and do it another day?" Elizabeth had laid the papers aside again. "we actually seem to be talking more than we're doing anything and we don't exactly have all day."

"True." Mr Bennet was frowning at the book in front of him. "Colonel, where have I heard the name Ashie from before?"

"I couldn't really say, but it wouldn't surprise me if Bennie didn't mention him more then once. He was a Lieutenant Ashington-Frankston."

"I've heard the name more recently than last year......I think it was connected with Captain."

"Can you give any more than that?" Darcy was looking somewhat cautious.

"Not at the moment."

"Hmmm." Darcy paused. "Could I possibly ask a favour of you and your daughter?"

"Depends on the favour."

"Well I have a slight problem in that I have to go to London, and my valet is unwell."

"Surely that isn't somethin....." Mr Bennet fell silent, for Elizabeth had waved him to silence.

"Mr Nash is unwell?" Elizabeth was looking not a little concerned, Darcy gave a nod in response.

"Why's it so serious?" Mr Bennet scratched his head.

"Because my valet just happens to be missing most of his lungs, and as a result there's a ninety percent chance that any sickness will become Pneumonia....and he won't survive that, or any other respiratory sickness."

"But why does this concern us?"

"Because there is a certain object his life is dependant on, a lung motor. That motor needs its filters replaced between ever four or six hours, depending how much he's using it. You've got to be wary, sometimes the alarms don't fire, someone needs to watch for the bubble of blood on the seals. A compulsory job if Nash is actually using it from total necessity."

"Why can't Mr Bingley do it?"

"Because Mr Bingley has only one arm and there are six bolts and nineteen pipes between you and those filters. The second those alarms sound you have less than three minutes to get at least one if not both of those filters changed.....and I'm sorry, but that feat is too much to ask for a one armed man, and I'm damned if I'll let anyone near him if they don't have at last some intelligence." It ended in a near bark.

"Well I'm afraid neither of us has had any experience with a Lung Motor."

"Well there are twelve hours for you to get experience if you'll help."

"Twelve hours?" Mr Bennet cast a startled glance at the clock, it was now eleven-thirty.

"Probably the worst of my habits." Darcy had taken in the glance with a comprehending twinkle. "Let me near an automobile and only necessity gets me out during daylight."

"But why eleven-thirty, it's dark by six."

"Because I dislike busy streets and I hate being light on the accelerator."

"Also at a guess I'd say that such a habit saves you from putting up anywhere over night." Mr Bennet's wry smile surfaced again.

"Very true." The twinkle was now dancing, but then abruptly it fled. "But will you do it for me?"

"For how long?" Mr Bennet rubbed his forehead.

"Well I must admit, I haven't the slightest idea how long I'll be.....which I suppose is why I'm asking you, because Netherfield House Staff would never be able to pull Alastair out of his damn hospital."

"And you think we can?" Mr Bennet looked startled.

"Your daughter spent half a year as his right hand, other than her there is only one person who could get him out of his hospital....I doubt even the King of England could get him, but Alastair is the only one who can save Nash if trouble arises."

"But...." Mr Bennet paused. "Well if we have twelve hours, then we had best get moving.....no objections Lizzie?"

"No papa." Elizabeth stood up.

"Then let's move, unless you brought that motor with you."

"Not likely." It was the closest Elizabeth had ever heard to Darcy laughing. "The thing weighs enough that it's all I can do to move it. Give me a second to tell Bing I'm clearing out, then we'll pinch his motor."

"Not very principled."

"No, but I'm currently an Army Colonel in a hurry, and only to ladies are we required to be principled." Darcy ducked out the door as he spoke, leaving Mr Bennet to glance at Elizabeth.

"A most interesting character, I suspect Colonel Darcy has not only been a Darcy and a Colonel.......if only for this Nash whom he seems willing to move heaven and earth to save."

"No papa, Colonel Darcy has not only been a Darcy."

"Well it's probably been the saviour of him, I knew that bloody brother of his, and I knew that father of theirs. Trust me Lizzie, lookin' at that boy there and rememberin' when I saw him six years ago I swear it's a bloody miracle he's alive."

"But...." Elizabeth stopped abruptly, realising that her father was refering to the non-physical alive. "Was his father that bad?"

"No." Mr Bennet shook his head. "Old George Darcy was made of sterling stuff, but he had the sense of humour of a lump of bark and he tried to make his sons what they weren't. When you're that damn tall, you'll never be a society figure with sparkling wit....least of all when you have the brains and drive to do anything you like, be that academic specialist, or sporting hero."

"You know them well?" Elizabeth looked curious.

"No Lizzie, I met the father once, the brother twice, and until last year I had never met this member of the family....and until the Netherfield Ball I was disappointed in him."

"Why Netherfield ball?"

"That was the day...night, when I realised that our massive Conscientious Objector was nothing of the sort.........And since then I've come to the conclusion he is the most formidable opponent any man could have. Possibly he is the most dangerous man in the world, but for the time being my analysis of that will have to wait."

"I would have thought Lydia's...contact would have been more dangerous."

"No, for the Count has no sense of humour."

Continued in Next Section