Beginning, Section II

"And where is the younger Miss Bennet?" Lady Catherine made her displeasure known to the assembly at large. "Her pretensions are insupportable! She has been offered far more than she deserves, yet persists in behaving the hoyden! In all my days, I have never seen a more ungrateful wretch..." Mr. Darcy's eyebrows shot to his hairline as Lady Catherine's vitriolic attack continued, gathering force. Offered more than she deserves? What the devil...? He opened his mouth to quiet his aunt, but Jane interjected an apology as the old woman finally paused for breath.

"I fear my sister fell ill shortly before our arrival. She begged us make her most heartfelt apologies in her absence, my lady," Jane was all that was deferential to salve Lady Catherine's temper. Her eyes met Mr. Darcy's only briefly but she was certain she saw both amusement and concern. The first she understood given the circumstances... just the memory of her sister's display of temper brought a secret smile to her lips, but the idea of concern gave her pause. Why would Mr. Darcy show any degree of concern for her sister?

Lady Catherine was somewhat mollified, "You have pretty manners, Miss Bennet. It is unfortunate that was not inherited by all in your family!" and she abruptly dropped the subject. When Mr. Collins tried to apologize yet again for the breach, she merely waved her hand in his direction and began speaking with her nephew. Discussion of Miss Georgiana Darcy's impending come-out was of the utmost importance. Jane's blood ran cold just hearing the name. Mr. Bingley's intended. How was she to maintain her composure without Lizzy? Imagined images of a beautiful, young female version of Mr. Darcy flew through her mind; a sweet, dark-haired girl touching Mr. Bingley's arm, laughing up at him lovingly, coyly studying him from beneath down-swept lashes... the torture was endless... Suddenly she realized all had gone silent, and all eyes were focused on her. What have I missed?

Mr. Darcy had been watching Jane for the past several moments, intrigued by the pain so readily apparent in her eyes. Her face had drained of all colour. What could have possibly been said to hurt the young woman? The discussion had been roundly centred on his sister... Ah, a light slowly illuminated the corners of his memory. The letter... Could Jane actually have affection for Mr. Bingley? Surely Elizabeth would not misspeak in a letter to her sister, and if Jane was truly attached to his friend... Darcy felt a suspicious weight settle in the pit of his stomach. No, he could not have been so blind. He could not have been wrong.

When the conversation had moved to include Jane, he was somewhat amused to see her completely lost in her own thoughts. And when his aunt asked her a question... a look of pure panic - like a cornered cat - froze in her eyes. He decided to prompt her, "Yes aunt. All of the Bennet sisters are out. Is that not correct, Miss Bennet?" He caught her eye and smiled gently.

Was this the same Mr. Darcy she'd met in Hertfordshire? This man seemed less reserved, more approachable, indeed, he was much the gentleman to have saved her from embarrassment. "Yes, Mr. Darcy, Lady Catherine. All my sisters are, indeed, much in company," she said. Lady Catherine was most verbal in her disapproval, but Jane wisely held her tongue to encourage a change of subject.

After several minutes of general conversation encompassing family and acquaintances of whom Jane knew nothing, her attention was snared once more. "Darcy! What of your friend... the one with the rented estate? Bingley, is it?" Jane felt as though the air had suddenly been sucked from the room. She could not force a full breath. Anguish engulfed her in a private cocoon. The room faded. She concentrated solely on the tingling in her ears and fingertips.

Darcy answered his aunt with a bare minimum of words before deftly changing the subject. He'd noted Miss Bennet's initial reaction and thought to divert attention from her, but as Lady Catherine turned toward Mr. Collins to discuss local matters, Darcy realized the young woman was still lost in her own private world.

"Miss Bennet?" he said quietly. He was shocked at how her appearance had changed. Her complexion became waxy, her breathing was shallow, eyes unseeing. "Miss Bennet!" he said more sharply as he moved to sit closer, his back shielding their exchange from his aunt and Mr. Collins. Taking her hand and squeezing it gently he said her name again, quietly and with more than a little urgency. Ah, a reaction. Finally. Jane's eyes slowly centred on him. "Are you quite well, Miss Bennet? Is there anything you require?" his said, barely above a whisper.

"Indeed, Mr. Darcy. I... suddenly feel... ill," her voice sounded lifeless.

Darcy's anxiety began to subside when she answered coherently, but he was still concerned about the young woman's health. The loss of her senses so dramatically not once, but twice, was so extreme. Indeed, the little he knew of Miss Bennet had convinced him she was always very much in control of her emotions. If Jane had suddenly become ill at Rosings, what would Elizabeth... Good God, where did that come from? Forcing his concentration once more on Miss Jane Bennet he asked, "Shall I walk with you back to the parsonage?"

"Mr. Collins..."

"Couldn't walk a flea," he muttered under his breath. Shock froze on his features as his eyes met Jane's. "I sincerely apologize, Miss Bennet, for the insult to both yourself and your relation," he retreated behind his mask of propriety. "I do not..."

She couldn't believe she'd actually heard him utter such a thing! Oh, gracious... today was, indeed, a day of poorly timed moments! Her heart lightened slightly at his discomfiture. Her humour was transparent in her voice, "Yes, Mr. Darcy. I believe I should appreciate your assistance in returning to the parsonage."

"What is going on over there?" Lady Catherine's shrill voice sent a shudder running down Jane's back. "I must have my say!"

"Aunt, Miss Bennet is suddenly unwell," Darcy began as he helped her gain her feet. "I shall return directly after seeing her safely home."

"But... surely... what..." Mr. Collins was unsure what to do about this. He was certain he should be accompanying his cousin, but he couldn't very well argue with the nephew of his noble patroness. Oh, what to do? He looked to Lady Catherine for guidance, but her attention was fixed on Mr. Darcy. Mr. Collins determined to stay where he was, sitting by Lady Catherine's side until he was told otherwise.

"Quickly then, Darcy. I expect your return post haste. You, girl! I am most seriously displeased by this interruption! I expect it will never again occur. This is most insupportable, Mr. Collins. First one guest does not even show herself, and now the other leaves before the refreshments even arrive! You shall remain until my tea is quite finished!"

"As you wish, my lady..."

The voices faded as Mr. Darcy escorted Jane into the foyer. "Again, Miss Bennet, I apologize for my abominable lack of good manners just then." He was so obviously contrite, Jane didn't have the heart to laugh outright.

"Mr. Darcy, I assure you I have taken no offence. Indeed, consider it forgotten and we shall speak of it no more." Jane said, smiling to put him at ease once again. This new image of Mr. Darcy was an improvement, indeed. She wondered vaguely how Elizabeth would have viewed this more amiable demeanor.

The two walked slowly in silence. Darcy was replaying the earlier conversation from the parlour, for Jane's distress had greatly engaged his interest. The first he had noticed a problem was during the discussion concerning Georgiana. He and his aunt had discussed his sister's come-out into society, but nothing else before he'd noticed Jane's preoccupation. Perhaps she was simply mulling over an unrelated subject? Perhaps Jane had simply been worrying over her sister's health, or rather, her sister's sensibilities; he allowed himself a small smile at the memory of Elizabeth's temper. Or, perhaps, he had been wrong in his assessment of Jane's attachment, or lack thereof, to Mr. Bingley. Darcy thought of her reaction when his friend's name had been mentioned... this was all very interesting, indeed. He decided some verbal fencing just might be in order to discover the root.

"Are you enjoying your stay at Hunsford?" He thought he'd begin on a safe subject.

"Indeed, sir. It is beautiful country."

"I had not realized your family was so closely associated with Mr. Collins," he probed.

"Ah, sir... truth be told, we are not."

"Then why the extended visitation?" Darcy felt he was losing ground trying to discover the reason for Jane's earlier reactions, but he was not certain how to approach the subject. He was trying to come up with an innocent-sounding question that would lead him in the direction of her troubles when Jane suddenly stopped walking.

Searching his eyes, she weighed his trustworthiness. She considered her options as she remembered his subtle concern for her sister's absence at Rosings. They were nearly at the parsonage; it was now, or lose the opportunity to gauge his response. She took the chance. "This I tell you in strictest confidence, sir," she waited for his nod of assent. "We are here, sir, because my parents are insisting Elizabeth marry Mr. Collins."

"Good God! Please, Miss Bennet, tell me you jest!"

"Indeed, sir. I only wish I could." Sadness enveloped her. "Elizabeth is determined to refuse him, but I fear it will not be so easy." Tears of distress swam in her eyes, a hand unconsciously drifted to cover her heart. She appeared the picture of sorrow.

"Surely something can be done to avoid this!"

Jane was somewhat unsettled by his extreme reaction. Although she had earlier noted the impression of concern drift through his eyes, she had not thought her declaration would illicit such a response. To her knowledge, he and Elizabeth had shared no more than ten pleasant words with one another. Indeed, she hadn't heard one agreeable comment from her sister about this man, and yet... his current outrage seemed to suggest otherwise. Perhaps he did, indeed, think well of Lizzy, and if that was the case, Jane believed he could be a powerful ally in stopping this marriage. Deciding to be straightforward she asked, "Why, sir, does this seem to vex you so?"

He immediately retreated behind a closed mask. "I... emm... I was simply concerned that an... acquaintance would be forced into so unwise a match. Your sister, from my own meagre observation, has far too much... spirit to be appreciated by a man such as Mr. Collins."

"I agree, Mr. Darcy. That is why I offered to take her place, only a few days ago... but she would hear no discussion on the matter." Jane breathed deeply to steady her nervousness at baring such an intimate exchange between sisters.

It took a moment for her words to register. An eyebrow shot up in surprise, "Why, Miss Bennet, would you do such a thing?"

"I believe I could adjust more readily than my sister."

"That is quite a sacrifice you propose! What of finding love and a husband yourself?" Darcy silently congratulated himself on bringing the discussion back to the Miss Bennet before him. At his question, he noted her colour drain and breathing become shallow as it did earlier at Rosings. What had the conversation been then? Bingley! Shock paralysed him momentarily. Good Lord, she did feel deeply for his friend! What had he done?! He felt a shame creep over him as images of Jane's smiling features with his friend drifted before his eyes. Indeed, given her distress at only the mention of Bingley, Darcy suddenly believed he'd been sadly mistaken in his estimation of the depth of her regard. Good Lord, what had he done? Her next words confirmed his guilt.

"I have been advised that is not to be," she said with quiet dignity, visibly gaining control of her emotions.

Darcy's voice was soft, gentle. "Perhaps you are too hasty, madam." He paused briefly, noting the flare of hope that ignited her eyes. He motioned toward the lane that would lead them to the parsonage. "Shall we...?"

Both were lost in their own swirling thoughts as they walked the short distance remaining to the little house. Opening the front door, Jane thanked him for his escort. He began to respond but lost the power of speech as Elizabeth was suddenly framed within the small foyer. Their eyes locked. Her pale features were flushed delicately, breath rapid, lips parted. She looked as though she'd just run to the door. Desire flooded him.

Elizabeth could not break the tangible connection of their eyes. She felt that fluttering nausea in her middle rising as it had when they'd met earlier that week. It was so foreign. Uncomfortable, yet not unpleasant. The intensity of his stare reduced her surroundings to nothing. She was quite unaware of Jane's amused interest in their clear attraction to one another. Everything had faded, but the strength of his eyes...

He broke the contact. Elizabeth felt strangely bereft, and then noticed the nausea subside.

Looking to Jane as he recovered his senses, Mr. Darcy said, "Miss Bennet, I hope you will regain your spirits in short time," bowing over her hand. Returning his attention to the woman just inside the doorway he said softly, "Miss Bennet... " His eyes caressed her face. "I... emm... you were... missed at tea, madam," his mouth curved slightly before adding silently, by certain attendees in particular. He bowed again very properly, then strode rapidly in the direction of Rosings.

A smile crept across Jane's lips as she watched her sister staring intently at the gentleman's retreating back. Interesting, indeed...

Bingley,

If your duties allow your removal from London, I have urgent matters to discuss with you of an extremely personal nature.

An invitation to Rosings has been extended to you, and only you, by my aunt, the Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

Darcy

What in Heaven's name? No pleasantries? No date, even? Darcy was certainly known for his economy of words, but this was mysterious even for him! The letter had obviously been hastily written as the penmanship was most definitely below his friend's usual exacting standard, although a chuckle escaped him as he acknowledged the note was still above his own correspondence.

It went without saying Bingley would tie all loose ends in town and be on the road later this same day, but his curiosity would certainly preoccupy his travels. Yes, indeed... whatever could be wrong? For most assuredly there must be some problem for Darcy to have convinced his aunt to extend an invitation to someone as far below her notice as himself. His eyes sparkled with mirth at the specification, 'and only you'. Surely Darcy did not think him so foolish as to voluntarily spend any more time with his sisters than necessary? He loved them, yes, but he was certainly not blind to their faults. Chuckling, he began his preparations.

"Lizzy?"

"Mmm?" They were in their shared bedroom finishing their morning toilette.

"What do you think of... Mr. Darcy?" Jane had decided to brave this conversation last night when she'd seen the nearly visible electricity pass between the two. Indeed, she had never seen Lizzy so affected, and so she'd determined to give her a little push. Yes, one of them should be happy and Jane believed Mr. Darcy to be the key for Elizabeth. Now, she had only to plant the seed.

"Mr. Darcy!" Elizabeth was aghast. "Why ever would you ask me such a thing? You, Jane, of all people, know what that man has done to poor Mr. Wickham!"

"Yes Lizzy, I know the story Mr. Wickham told, but I do not know it for truth... and you do not either." Jane raised an eyebrow significantly. "There could have been a simple misunderstanding that, on hearing Mr. Wickham's story, appears to place Mr. Darcy in the wrong."

Elizabeth stared in shock as though her sister had suddenly sprouted a second head. "And how have you suddenly taken this view?"

"I have always thought there must be more to the tale, Lizzy. You know that." Jane paused, then plunged into the thoughts that had assailed her the previous night as she lay trying to sleep. "Did it never seem odd to you that Mr. Wickham confided his history after so short an acquaintance?"

Elizabeth locked silent eyes with her sister. She wanted to flat out defend her friend, but she realized Jane had made a valid point. "Everything he told me agrees with the Mr. Darcy I have come to know..." she said, somewhat doubtfully.

"Hmm." Jane did not immediately answer. She thought it better to let the suspicion take root for a moment, and then, "Are you certain of that, Lizzy? What do you see in Mr. Darcy now, at Rosings?"

Elizabeth remained silent a moment, considering. "He could simply be on better behaviour for his relations." She made the statement, but her inflection questioned.

"What do you see in Mr. Darcy now?" Jane asked again, not willing to allow Lizzy to hide from truths so easily seen, if she would just look.

"I have no reason to think ill of Mr. Wickham."

"What do you see in Mr. Darcy now?" This time the question was accompanied with an eyebrow raised in challenge.

Elizabeth sighed. She traced a pattern on the floor with her slipper. When she spoke, her voice was laden with resignation. "I have lately seen nothing that would indicate the veracity of Mr. Wickham's claim, but, that does not mean I have seen anything that would negate Mr. Wickham's claim, either."

"Believe as you will, Lizzy, but I think there is more to this than we know."

Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably; Jane was well-pleased. She had planted the seed of truth. Without accusing Mr. Wickham of any wrongdoing, she had questioned his point of view. She was certain Lizzy's dislike for Mr. Darcy was rooted in her defence of Mr. Wickham; it would take some time for her to accept that the root was an illusion. Although she did not wish the soldier any harm, indeed, even hoped the man would lead an honourable existence, Jane believed his claims of hardship at the hand of Mr. Darcy somewhat exaggerated. Not a lie, exactly... but not truth, either. No, she was sure there had been a misunderstanding or exaggeration, for the Mr. Darcy she had come to know would not behave in so dishonourable a fashion. She stood to leave the room, and could see, even now, her sister was turning over the thoughts and doubts... it would take only time. Indeed, Lizzy simply had to come to the realization on her own. You're welcome, Mr. Darcy. She wore a secret smile as she descended the stairs.

She couldn't outrun her thoughts. As Elizabeth sped along the park's paths she couldn't tame the haunting words of her sister, 'Believe as you will, Lizzy...'. She hated being told she'd been foolish, no matter how nicely it was couched. And foolish she had been. But more than that... she'd been obstinate in holding on to her biased preconceptions. Elizabeth had admitted to herself the trait of stubbornness long ago, but she was heartily ashamed to see such clear evidence of prejudice. She'd taken the word of Mr. Wickham simply because he'd been charming and his story supported the opinion she'd already formed of Mr. Darcy. Could Mr. Wickham have misrepresented himself? Elizabeth wasn't about to jump to conclusions and compound her mistakes, but she had to acknowledge she'd taken Mr. Wickham's story as fact without any other confirming source... and it was a tale that showed Mr. Darcy in such a bad light that she was now beginning to doubt its veracity.

But, what of Mr. Darcy. Although he had been nothing but gentlemanly here in Kent, he had acted in such a superior manner in Hertfordshire that Elizabeth was unsure what opinion to form. It was as though there were two Mr. Darcys... and that was a form of deceit wasn't it? Was he hiding some dark secret? And, if so, then did he not deserve her contempt? Would she not be justified in her extreme dislike? But why, then, had he lately been a more than pleasant companion? He couldn't possibly care what opinions she held about him, could he? Disturbingly, she had found him jumping into her thoughts at the most inopportune moments, and had even come across him during her walks each day but one since his arrival! Every meeting showed him friendly, treating her with the utmost respect, and occasionally teasing her, making her laugh. So, how could he be as terrible as she'd thought all those months ago in Hertfordshire? Had she been so wrong? Or had he changed? But most disturbing, was that since coming to Rosings he'd had the power to upset her equilibrium... that warm tingling nausea that plagued her whenever he had that intense look on his face, or stood too close to her. Surely that was a clue in itself? But what was it telling her?

Elizabeth couldn't make sense of it all. But the one thing she knew to be true was that Jane was right. Although not yet willing to admit it aloud, Lizzy knew she had worn blinders where these two men were concerned... but her task now was to discover what was real and what was illusion. Or, more specifically, who was real and who was illusion... and she had not the slightest idea how to see the situation more clearly. But she knew she would have to discover the truth for this uncertainty would surely drive her daft!

Mr. Collins had finally hurried his cousins out the door and they were making their way to Rosings. Oh, what a splendid delight the evening would be. His Elizabeth would provide the entertainment, although she was not yet aware he had offered her services, and they would visit in the most splendid of surroundings... not to mention the gracious condescension of Lady Catherine! Oh indeed, his benefactress was all that was good and kind in her benevolence. Elizabeth would surely be thrilled when she fully understood their position for it was certain she had not yet grasped the enormity of her good fortune.

The evening looked to be an uncomfortable farce. Elizabeth had barely returned from her soul searching that morning before Mr. Collins announced, in his pompous annoying fashion, that they were to be guests of the 'great' Lady Catherine that very evening for supper and light entertainment. Everything within her screamed her refusal, but without an appropriate excuse she could not justify such rudeness. She wasn't ready. Her mind was still reeling from Jane's gentle prodding and her subsequent confusion; a confusion from which there seemed no present escape. Perhaps the veil might part if she concentrated on Mr. Darcy with new eyes? Or perhaps that would just make it more difficult to discern the truth.

Upon reaching Rosings, they were ushered into the parlour to wait until supper was announced. Lady Catherine was the only inhabitant of the room and revealed they would be joined momentarily by her daughter and nephew. She seemed especially content at that circumstance; it was clear where her ambitions lay for her Anne. Lady Catherine expressed her interest in Elizabeth's 'education' and was sorely displeased to discover the lessons had been extremely infrequent. "Only two? Pray tell me how you expect to excel without constant diligence and practice? In order to be truly proficient at anything you must spend hours in the perfecting of the technique."

Elizabeth demurred, choking on her words, "Indeed, my lady, I do understand your assertions," she paused a moment and then, seeing an opportunity to demonstrate her unsuitability for the role of Mr. Collins' wife, continued seemingly blithe, "but at present I have no need of these skills. I attend to these lessons solely at my father's request, and he has made clear his wishes included an enjoyable visitation. You are aware, of course, that my cousin and I are not engaged."

Jane drew in a quick breath of surprise at her sister's outspoken declaration. Mr. Collins' shocked dismay clung desperately on his pointed little face, while Lady Catherine's displeasure was clearly enunciated. "You girl, are a most ungrateful, unfeeling, unmannered little--"

"That is enough, Aunt." Mr. Darcy's voice was quietly commanding. Four pairs of stunned eyes swung to the doorway. Lady Catherine was shocked into silence for only a moment before she erupted with scurrilous reproach. In her rage, her face reddened to beetroot and her words were uttered so fast and fierce she could scarcely draw breath; Elizabeth was certain the old lady would suffer a fit of apoplexy. Sliding a glance toward the door she saw Mr. Darcy leaning casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed, and right ankle casually resting over his left. She inwardly smiled at his apparent indifference.

Darcy's eyes swept the room. As his gaze fell on Elizabeth a soft smile tugged at his lips. She was clearly regretting her outspoken declaration of independence - her colour high, her eyes low. Her words rang in his ears, '...my cousin and are not engaged', entirely blocking the angry insults tumbling from Lady Catherine's mouth. He raised an eyebrow as the vitriolic stream raised in volume, interrupting her almost casually, "Are you quite finished?"

Elizabeth closed her eyes and surreptitiously pinched the inside of her wrist. Surely this could not be happening? Mr. Darcy would never deliberately provoke his aunt, would he? What in the world had brought on such madness? Had he lost his senses...? Surely that was the only explanation. Mr. Darcy was standoffish, proud, arrogant... proper. But as the scene unfolded before her, Elizabeth had to admit not one of those words seemed quite... appropriate. Lord, what have I started? She caught Jane's eye on her, studying her reactions to such bedlam. Communicating silently, Lizzy read in her sister's eye, "Are you quite certain you know this man?" Her gaze was involuntarily drawn back to the man so effectively drawing Lady Catherine's anger from herself. She slowly shook her head in the negative.

Lady Catherine suddenly pinned Elizabeth with her eyes. "Do you see what your insolence has caused?! You girl, should be grateful Mr. Collins does not throw you out on your ear--" The evening rapidly deteriorated into madness. The guests at Rosings were quickly shown the door.

"Whatever could have possessed him?" Lizzy was pacing in the bedchamber she shared with Jane at the parsonage. Mr. Collins had not yet recovered from the shock and distress of the evening, and had banished Elizabeth from his sight. She had been more than happy to remove herself to her bedchamber, although she could still hear her cousin's incessant mumbles drifting up the stairs.

Elizabeth's ill-timed defiance plagued her thoughts. Soon after the words had left her lips, she had realized her grave error. To challenge her parents and Mr. Collins' claim on her for marriage was one thing; to speak openly before Lady Catherine was quite another. How foolish could she be to have thought her words would illicit a simple disapproval of her as a future wife for Mr. Collins?! How could she have placed others in so uncomfortable a situation?! Indeed, Elizabeth was angry, furious... but though she tried to deflect it elsewhere, her rage insisted on returning to rest on her own shoulders. "Why would he do such a thing? To escalate matters in such a way? Jane, he made my faux-pas so much worse than it would have been otherwise!"

"Are you so sure, Lizzy? I believe he was simply being gallant in coming to your defence. Could it be your anger is redirected?"

Elizabeth stopped suddenly and faced her sister. Her voice dropped to a bare whisper, "What possessed me, Jane? I have never behaved so badly!" Her eyes filled with tears of mortification.

"Oh, Lizzy. It is not so bad as all that. You chose your moment... less than wisely, but I understand the reason behind your defiance. Papa and Mr. Collins are both assuming you will come around to their way of thinking," confusion entered her tone, "although I am not quite sure Papa understands how unsuited you are to marriage with Mr. Collins. I cannot imagine he would continue to force this if he knew the extent of Mr. Collins'... less than appreciative manner toward you." Jane paused a moment, then asked, "Lizzy, have you written to Papa since we've been in Hunsford?"

Elizabeth shot her sister a look of incredulity. "Why would I write to him? He has made clear his position on this proposal... why would I waste the ink?"

"I wrote to him," Jane admitted quietly.

"But, surely... Papa will now surely believe I asked this of you! Oh, Jane, I wish you had not. I could have maintained my refusal and he would not have found another way to force my hand." Elizabeth's attention was completely diverted from her earlier embarrassment. "Jane, this will only make stronger Papa's resolve!"

"I don't think that is true. He is an intelligent man, and I provided him only the facts. I did not appeal to his sentiment, for to do so would have been unfair." Jane paused just a moment, "he needed to be told, Lizzy."

"And has he replied?"

Jane's eyes crinkled as she smiled, "Do you honestly think Papa would pick up a quill if he wasn't forced?"

"I suppose..." Elizabeth suddenly snapped her eyes to study her sister's face. "When did you write this letter?"

"A few weeks ago... why?"

"Before or after you received Miss Bingley's letter? You did not suggest to Papa your offer of taking my place, I hope?" Elizabeth's voice was rather more sharp than she'd intended, but the thought that her father may have already entertained such thoughts would trap her even more effectively than was the case now.

"I believe it was before that day. Why do you seem so distressed, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth let loose the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Relief flooded her tone as she grabbed her sister's hands. "Jane, please promise me you will not suggest to Papa your willingness to take my place. Please promise me this?"

Jane studied her sister as she remembered her conversation with Mr. Darcy the night before. Perhaps she had been too hasty. Miss Bingley could have been wrong, couldn't she? "I believe, Lizzy, that the insistence of your first refusal is more than enough to prevent me repeating the offer," she smiled softly, and then tossed her hair, lightening the mood. Her voice took on a teasing tone, "Besides, I think there may be options for you that will lead my father to dismiss this idea of marriage to Mr. Collins." She nearly laughed at the involuntary look of surprise on Elizabeth's face.

"Mr. Collins, I wonder if I might prevail upon your good temper to allow me a turn about the park with Miss Bennet?" After a heartbeat's hesitation he clarified, "Miss Elizabeth Bennet?"

"Most certainly, Mr. Darcy. I shall inform her immediately. Yes, indeed. This is a most auspicious happening, good sir. You do us great honour. Such condescension from so great a family. I shall inform her immediately, good sir, yes indeed..." Mr. Collins bowed no less than three times during his rambling speech, a wide, proud smile swallowing the bottom half of his face. As he bowed himself out of the room and dashed up the stairs, he found his heart expanding in pride. His beloved, his intended would be instructed in her duties by none other than Mr. Darcy. Indeed, his patroness was most kind to send her nephew on this errand, and the gentleman's joy in the chore was plain to be seen.

He fetched Elizabeth from her bedchamber and, pulling her by the arm, pronounced her good fortune, expounding upon her the virtues of deference to her betters. Mr. Collins did not want a repeat of the horrifying scenes earlier that week. Indeed, just the memories were enough to make him cringe. But since Mr. Darcy himself was awaiting dear cousin Elizabeth, Mr. Collins was certain all offence had been forgiven.

Mr. Darcy had developed his plan over the two days since his unfortunate lapse of propriety. When he had heard Elizabeth's own lips utter those precious words, 'My cousin and I are not engaged', his heart had leapt to his throat, and at hearing his aunt so cruelly abuse the woman he loved, Darcy had lost all sense of society. It took every ounce of his will to simply interject those short, sarcastic statements designed to keep Lady Catherine's anger centred on him rather than Elizabeth.

The offer of marriage from Mr. Collins had not yet been accepted by Elizabeth -- they were not betrothed -- so Darcy could step in with his own proposal with the clearest of conscience. He could not bear the thought of his Elizabeth trapped into marriage with any other man... willing or no. Indeed, she would most certainly welcome his addresses at so desperate a juncture. He would be her shining knight, ah yes... he would save her from the dragon that was Mr. Collins. He suppressed his rising glee, outwardly projecting the proper image of an upper class gentleman.

"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth curtsied most demurely when they reached the foyer. Mr. Collins was pleased to see such proper behaviour from his young, rash cousin. Certainly, her manners were improving... yes, she would make him a fine wife indeed. Oh yes. He nearly jumped out of skin for his joy and pride in this happening were nearly too much to be borne! As Elizabeth's confused eyes slid to his own, he thought he saw a nervousness within and thinking to ease her distress, he sidled up close, placing a hand on her arm for comfort. A most surprising, yet welcome development, indeed. She needed him! Mr. Collins's chest puffed up further with pride as he handed his intended over to the visiting gentleman. Lady Catherine would be most pleased. Oh yes, he would wait with bated breath for the outcome of this interview. Surely Miss Elizabeth would understand her good fortune now? Indeed, Mr. Darcy would advise Elizabeth of her obligations, and of the benefits to her accepting his suit... Ah, yes, Mr. Collins couldn't have been more pleased with his patroness and her nephew than at this very moment.

Elizabeth didn't know what to think. That blasted nausea had risen just on hearing the name of Mr. Darcy, but had quickly subsided during Mr. Collins' ranting abovestairs. As she descended the stairs with her cousin, her nervousness rose. She didn't like Mr. Darcy... not one whit, and yet, he'd been kind to both herself and her sister since his arrival at Rosings. It was quite disconcerting to have him acting out of character, for he was even more unpredictable than had been the case in Hertfordshire. Yes, in respect of his recent behaviour, she felt she owed him the courtesy of holding her tongue... for once. Besides, she would far rather play word games with Mr. Darcy than listen to yet another lecture by Mr. Collins! She nearly breathed a sigh of relief when her cousin handed her off to the dark-haired gentleman at the door. When he touched her arm that uncomfortable fluttering sickness in her middle stole her breath. She sighed deeply to steady herself, preparing herself for the walk with this enigmatic man.

As they walked in silence from the parsonage, Mr. Darcy's hand on her arm, she found she couldn't hold a thought. Elizabeth's mind was flitting through memories and images... never landing on one more than a second or two. She glanced surreptitiously up at her companion and caught the intense expression on his face. A liquid warmth swirled through her, her knees weakened and she quite nearly missed a step. Focusing on the ground in front of her, she was able regain some of her equilibrium. She needed distance.

Darcy was disappointed when she pulled away from his touch. It was somewhat disconcerting, to be sure... Elizabeth would not even allow his hand to remain on her elbow, yet his plans were to propose marriage! He had decided exactly how he would make the offer... yes, he would tell her that although her connections were poor, he believed she would be suitable for his bride. She'd be pleased, of course, but until he knew her feelings on the matter, he would not disclose his feelings for her. To bare himself in that way would give her far too much power. Unacceptable.

"Miss Bennet," he began taking a long breath. "You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you." Mr. Darcy inwardly cringed as the declaration passed his lips. Alas, he supposed it better she knew the depth of his regard for she would be more likely to admit her own. He saw her momentarily start and fall dead silent. Her eyes were studying her shoes, her colour slightly heightened. Clearly, she was stunned by her good fortune and simply waiting for his continued avowal, his proposal. He forged on, detailing his disgust at her poor connections and circumstance, but assuring her he would not hold these facts against her in their marriage. Indeed, he'd thought his entire speech had gone quite well... until she spoke.

"Are you quite finished?" Elizabeth could not believe his gall! Despite her deeply-rooted dislike of the man, she certainly understood the compliment he bestowed... but the manner in which he had declared himself left her in doubt of the veracity of his initial claim. Mr. Collins would be a far better fate, indeed. At least with her cousin, she would have only to deal with stupidity. Mr. Darcy's supercilious arrogance could not be borne. Any good thoughts she had begun harbouring of this man fled rapidly during his recitation of her many failings... and her temper, which had begun at a slow boil, came full to raging.

This man, who'd, more often than not, looked through her rather than at her, had the nerve to offer her marriage? Had he rocks for brains? Nothing on earth could induce her to accept such a man! Good Lord, this man had added to her mortification on several occasions... and he seriously thought to ask her to wed?! As though he was providing a favour! She did not want to hurt him, but his proposal had so incensed her she could not control her tongue.

She declined his insulting offer most soundly, citing her dislike of him personally, his rude opinions, his most dishonourable regard of poor Mr. Wickham, his insufferable arrogance, his ungentleman-like behaviour, his cold unfeeling manner... this list seemed endless. Tears swam in her eyes at the thought her words could wound him, then she remembered to whom it was she spoke. Nothing she could say would make one whit of difference to this man! He'd proven time and again his heart was ice.

Mr. Darcy was mortified. He hid the reaction well beneath his mask of civility, but as she so zealously rejected him and he realized she had never felt the slightest regard for his person, his confidence completely shattered. He could not believe he had been so seriously mistaken. He challenged her accusations on the matter of Mr. Wickham, shocked she could hold that weasel in higher regard that himself. Blood drained from his face hearing the version of events she had been told, and so clearly believed... without ever hearing his own account. The recounting of his faults was great, indeed.

"You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness." With these parting words, he spun on his heel, rapidly disappearing from sight.

Elizabeth felt her knees turn to water beneath her. She could no longer support her own weight, slumping slowly to the grass. His words replayed incessantly in her mind. She could not believe the events of the past half hour. Her heart had lurched in surprise and... pleasure? at his opening statement, but his next words had dashed any hopes she might ever have entertained. How could he? A cold emptiness seeped through her pores. Tears began a slow, silent track to her chin. Just when she'd thought he'd changed, or that perhaps, she'd judged him too harshly. But no, his true colours were quite clear in his dreadful proposal. She should have realized her initial impressions were correct when he'd started making her sick!

Darcy had maintained the appearance of dignity only as long as he was within her view. As he rounded the bend in the path, his knees weakened and he braced himself against a large oak. Unwilling to return to Rosings so soon after his humiliation, he slumped slowly to the ground... his face buried in his hands...

Mr. Collins had never been so elated! After his dear cousin had departed with Mr. Darcy he could not contain the excitement coursing through his veins. He wandered aimlessly in his little garden, alternately picking early spring flowers and looking to the sky in thankful prayer for this lucky turn of events. Indeed, it would be a wonderful day. Elizabeth would return, convinced of her good fortune in having him to husband. They, in turn, would inform her good father and the preparations would begin. She could be his within the month! It was a good day, indeed.

He noticed a cat about ten feet away, digging industriously at the base of a rosebush. Aha! There you are you little scamp! It must be the same scoundrel that had been destroying his beloved garden for weeks. Dig in my garden, will you? He ran, oblivious to his surroundings, waving his arms frantically and letting loose a howl of which even a wolf would be proud. Indeed, the cat was so mesmerized by his approach it seemed too terrified to run. Just a few more steps and he'd have it... there was a sharp pain and all went black.

Jane had been looking out her bedchamber window at Mr. Collins for some time. She had seen him spy something outside her line of sight, and she'd burst into peals of laughter at the spectacle her cousin made as he ran, screaming and waving his arms above his head, across the garden. Suddenly, she saw a pole pop off the ground and nail him in the head. He, of course, collapsed. When she saw a little cat scamper off, her mirth redoubled and she flung herself on her bed in her merriment.

Some moments passed before she was able to contain herself, but as the images passed through her mind once more, soft chuckles continued their escape. Oh dear, Lizzy would have enjoyed that! Jane roused herself, descended the stairs and wandered into the parlour. Since Elizabeth had not yet returned, Jane decided to write her father another letter. It had been more than three weeks since she had written to explain how unsuited Lizzy would be in marriage to their cousin, but she had yet to hear a response. Perhaps if she relayed Mr. Collins' most recent escapade it would be all the more clear.

Jane was starting to worry. It had been at least two hours since she'd seen either Lizzy or Mr. Collins. She thought she'd begin with seeking out Mr. Collins for she knew, at least, where he had last been. Wandering through the small garden, calling for her cousin, she was shocked breathless for just a moment when she saw he'd not moved from his earlier fall. Pushing herself into action, she rushed to his side and called his name again. Her hand felt a chill as she reached out to shake the man awake... She stilled. Looking carefully at his chest, she saw no rhythmic movement and leaned her ear next to his mouth. She heard no sound, felt no warm breath on her cheek... Oh Lord, what to do now? Find Lizzy! Between us we can decide, she was already running toward the park screaming for her sister as the thought took form.

Elizabeth was lost in her own cold, barren world. She did not understand why Mr. Darcy's cruel proposal should have hurt her so deeply. She didn't like him, cared not for his good opinion, so how had he the power to cause her such pain? Was it simply that he felt the need to explain all her inferior qualities in detailed length, or was there some other reason? Why had she felt that rush of pleasure at his opening declaration? And why in Heaven's name had he chosen to humiliate her so soundly? Her confused emotions tangled with her thoughts... and she was unable to make sense of the morning's events.

She felt, rather than heard, a noise. Was it... it was Jane! And she sounded quite frantic. Oh Lord, how could she worry her sister this way? How selfish! She quickly dashed at the wetness on her cheeks and straightened her dress while she regained her feet.

"Jane," she called in answer to yet another scream. "I'm here. Everything is..." she stopped when Jane suddenly flew around the bend, nearly running her over in her haste. "Jane, what...?"

"Oh Lizzy... oh dear... it is... Mr. Collins!" she panted as she tried vainly to catch her breath.

"What of Mr. Collins?"

"I think he is... I think... oh Lizzy... he is dead!"

Elizabeth felt the world becoming smaller, blacker. Stars floated before her eyes. She didn't have time to think, didn't have time to feel. It was too much on top of Mr. Darcy's proposal. She fainted dead away...