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Chapter 15

The minute the intermission came, Benton Fowler expressed an interest in visiting Mr. Bingley's box. Mr. Darcy had no choice but to follow; he was not about to give his friend the advantage. When they reached the box, however, he found that Elizabeth and her aunt had gone to the ladies' lounge, and so he slipped back into the corridor while Mr. Bingley, Mr. Gardiner, and Mr. Fowler engaged in conversation. In a few minutes his strategy was rewarded, as Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner approached the box. Mrs. Gardiner tactfully detached herself from Elizabeth's arm, and pleading fatigue, returned to her seat in the box. Fearing that Mr. Fowler would also come in search of Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy offered to take her on a tour of the theatre.

"A tour?"

"Yes. The _____ Theatre is one of the finest and most famous in London. It was built in 1763," Mr. Darcy said, taking Elizabeth by the elbow and steering her away from Mr. Bingley's box. For the next few minutes, Mr. Darcy showed Elizabeth the theatre's grandly ornate interior that took three years to complete, the delicate murals painted by Italian artisans who immigrated to England expressly for the purpose of painting them. He spoke of the rich red velvet curtains and named the courtesan who supposedly chose the color, and told her of several famous operas that had premiered on its stage. Neither of them was paying much attention to what was said. Both were too afraid of what might happen if he stopped talking. Both were too moved by the heady experience of being in each other's company to ponder the conversation. It ended too soon. By the time Mr. Fowler caught up with them, it was nearly time for the second act to begin. Mr. Darcy was in such good spirits that he allowed Mr. Fowler to escort Elizabeth back to her seat without a challenge. He took her hand and pressed it to his lips. Their eyes met, and Mr. Darcy knew what it was to have hope.

When the final curtain came down, Mr. Darcy and Mr. Fowler rose to leave their box. Mr. Fowler immediately sought to gain the advantage denied him earlier, and he bolted for Mr. Bingley's box. Mr. Darcy followed silently. As he entered the box, he saw Elizabeth staring out over the crowd as it exited the orchestra level. She turned when Mr. Fowler addressed her, but her eyes immediately found Mr. Darcy. She politely answered Mr. Fowler's inquiries as to her opinion of the performance, and her impression of Mozart, but her mind was on the brooding man at the rear of the box. Mr. Darcy watched silent and aloof, much like the Mr. Darcy she had met in Hertfordshire, and Elizabeth felt a bit disappointed. She wanted to bring Mr. Darcy into the conversation, but could not find an opening. Mrs. Gardiner tried to engage Mr. Darcy in conversation fearing that he might flee in the face of a determined competitor.

Elizabeth began to worry when she saw Mr. Darcy bow to Mrs. Gardiner. He is leaving! Mr. Darcy spared her one last look, and with a slight bow in her direction, he turned to depart. Mr. Bingley asked him something Elizabeth could not hear, but it was apparently unsuccessful in delaying his departure. Elizabeth bowed her head, as Mr. Fowler continued to prattle on. She looked at the spot Mr. Darcy had recently vacated; a moment later she bolted into the corridor after him, leaving a bewildered Mr. Fowler behind.

Elizabeth reached the stairs and saw Mr. Darcy at the bottom, headed for the door. She called out his name, but he either did not hear her or did not care to stop. Elizabeth almost gave up. Then she took a deep breath, lifted her skirts and raced down the steps and out the door. She called to him once again. Startled, Mr. Darcy stopped and turned toward her.

"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said breathlessly. He instinctively put out his arm to support her.

"Are you all right, Miss Bennet?" he said softly, as he breathed in that intoxicating scent that had sustained him through the early spring. Elizabeth put her hand to her chest in an effort to still her heaving bosom.

"Forgive me, sir. I did not mean to alarm you," she replied as she gasped for air. "It is just that you left so abruptly and..." Mr. Darcy, who had bent toward her to offer his assistance, stiffened slightly. He did not know whether his jealous reaction had helped or injured his cause. "...You did not give me a chance to return your libretto, Mr. Darcy, or to tell you that it did indeed add greatly to my enjoyment of the performance, as did your tour of the theatre." Mr. Darcy permitted a wry, crooked smile to escape his lips.

"I am very glad you enjoyed it, Miss Bennet," Mr. Darcy said as the tension began to drain from his body.

"This little book, on the basis of the inscription on the frontispiece, must be very important to you. I would not wish for you to forget it," she said, pressing the volume into his hand. Mr. Darcy stared at the book for a moment.

"I had only just remembered that I failed to retrieve it from you. I thought to call upon you in Gracechurch Street for it tomorrow." Elizabeth smiled archly.

"I hope that depriving you of a ready excuse will not prevent you from paying your call, Mr. Darcy." Mr. Darcy flashed one of his rare toothsome smiles, and spotting Mr. Bingley approaching to fetch Elizabeth, he bowed and took his leave.

"Wild horses would not prevent me, Miss Bennet." Mr. Darcy kissed her hand and then entrusted the love of his life to the care of his best friend. Mr. Bingley watched their parting with satisfaction. The broken hearts of the ill-fated pair, if not yet healed, seemed to be amenable to mending. And if Mr. Bingley had his way, they would soon be joined in mutual and enduring love for one another.

Elizabeth might not have needed Mr. Bingley's carriage had she been able to float her way back to Gracechurch Street amid the clouds. Her head was in the clouds in any event, and she sat next to Mrs. Gardiner with a serene smile upon her face that was reflected in the faces of her companions. No words were exchanged for the length of the trip; none were necessary. Mr. Bingley observed in her quiet joy something of the Elizabeth Bennet he had long held in high regard. And he saw something more, a woman in love. It was a wonder to him that his friend could be in any doubt of her heart. At a glance Mr. Bingley knew that it beat for one man and from the smiles on the faces of Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner he knew that they were no strangers to Elizabeth's happy situation.

When the carriage stopped at Gracechurch Street, Mr. Bingley declined to come inside with the family since Jane, who had been carried up to her room after supper, had most likely retired for the night. He did, however, reach out and squeeze Elizabeth's hand, and catching her attention, asked her to convey to Jane his love. Elizabeth was more than happy to be able to carry such a message to her sister and told Mr. Bingley so. Before releasing her hand, Mr. Bingley could not resist expressing his happiness in another quarter. He looked meaningfully into Elizabeth's eyes.

"I am happy...so very happy for you both," he stammered with his characteristically boyish grin. Elizabeth did not share his confidence, although she did share his joy.

"It was a beginning, Mr. Bingley, nothing more. But it was a splendid evening, and I have you to thank for it." Elizabeth gave Mr. Bingley's hand a squeeze and went into the house. She glided down the corridor and into the parlor where her aunt and uncle had ordered tea. Elizabeth swept into the room, her cheeks aglow, and a smile about her lips, and froze as she confronted her mother's disapproving glare. Her mother stood near a window, where she had obviously been eavesdropping on her conversation with Miss Bingley.

"Holding hands with Mr. Bingley, were you? Is there no end to your infamy?" Mrs. Bennet said in a huff as she turned her back on Elizabeth in dramatic fashion. A stunned Elizabeth exchanged glances with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner.

"Mama? Mr. Bingley and I were only speaking of Jane. He gave me a message to give to her, nothing more." Mrs. Bennet continued to look away. She went to a chair and sat, her eyes averted from her daughter.

"Surely you do not think that Elizabeth was flirting with Mr. Bingley, sister," Mr. Gardiner managed to say as his wife joined him in protesting Mrs. Bennet's inexplicable treatment of her daughter.

"I am sure I do not know what to think," Mrs. Bennet replied, with an offended sniff. She looked at Elizabeth then, and Elizabeth just shook her head and left the room. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner attempted to mollify Mrs. Bennet as Elizabeth made her way upstairs. She entered the bedroom quietly, so as not to awaken her sister, but to her surprise she found Jane wide-awake.

"Jane! I expected to find you sleeping. Do not tell me that you also did not trust me with your fiancé?" she said with a smile.

"What?" Jane said, as she closed the book she was reading. "What reason should I have to be jealous?"

"No reason at all. A love that can withstand a six-month separation as yours did can surely withstand one night. Mother, however, saw Mr. Bingley take my hand and whisper in my ear, and now she is accusing me of trying to steal your future husband," Elizabeth said wearily, as she sat at the vanity and began pulling pins from her hair. Jane scrambled to the edge of the large bed to be closer to her sister.

"And why should my future husband be whispering in my sister's ear?" she asked archly, but without the merest suggestion of jealousy. Elizabeth turned to her dearest sister and smiled.

"Oh, he begged to me to tell you how much he missed your company this evening, and something or other about loving you passionately, or you being the light of his life...adoring you to his last breath...you know the sort of thing." The two ladies erupted into giggles. As their laughter subsided, Elizabeth returned her attention to the mirror and removed her jewelry. Her eyes were on her face, but her mind was apparently miles away.

"Did you enjoy the opera, Lizzy?" Jane asked, surmising that the smile on Elizabeth's face meant far more than she had thus far admitted.

"I had a lovely time," Elizabeth replied as she rose to undress. She continued to speak but her voice was muffled slightly as her dress was drawn over her head. Jane got up on her knees at the edge of the bed and helped pull the gown away.

"What did you say? I could not hear you under all that muslin."

"I said that I met Mr. Darcy at the theatre." Elizabeth spoke calmly, without a tremor of emotion in her voice. But Jane knew that Elizabeth could not be so sanguine.

"Lizzy! Where...how...did the two of you have a chance to speak? Was Miss Bingley present?"

"Jane! One question at a time!" Elizabeth teased, knowing that her sister was as eager to hear her news as she was to tell it. "Yes, we did have a chance to speak and no, Miss Bingley was not present."

"Did you resolve...I mean...I do not want to pry, but--." Elizabeth laughed as she removed the remainder of her apparel.

"Jane, you were always a terrible liar." Elizabeth shrugged into her nightgown and climbed onto the bed. She handed Jane a comb, and turned her back so her sister could do her hair. "We 'resolved' nothing. We did not discuss anything of import: the opera, the performers, and about the theatre itself. We behaved as two old friends who happened to meet by chance at a public place; that is all."

"That is much," Jane exclaimed, "For two people who have not exchanged civil words since April. Now, if the two of you could only manage to 'meet by chance' again..." Jane paused, a hank of Elizabeth's hair forgotten in her hand as she began to consider the possibilities. Elizabeth reached up and freed herself.

"There is no need to think up any elaborate scheme, Jane," Elizabeth said as she finished her braid. "Mr. Darcy has promised to call here tomorrow." The smile on her lips faded as quickly as it appeared. She abruptly let herself fall backward upon the bed.

"Oh, dear! I have forgotten about mother. Mr. Darcy cannot come here tomorrow!" Jane saw her opening and seized upon it.

"Lizzy," she began, as Elizabeth slid under the sheet next to her, "It is far worse than you know."

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth asked.

"Mother told me why she came to town." Jane did not know where to start.

"Well?"

"She has apparently heard the rumor about you..."

"There was no rumor. I only made it up to spite Miss Bingley," Elizabeth confessed.

"Are you sure? Mama is quite convinced that there is a scandal...." Elizabeth, suddenly grew worried, and sat up in the bed.

"What? Jane, tell me everything Mama said to you." Jane sat up and propped herself up with pillows.

"Well, when you left Longbourn so suddenly, Mama was convinced that you were involved in some sort of scandal. Mary and I were finally able to calm her down, but a few days ago, when she found a man's handkerchief in your bed, she believed that her earlier suspicions had been confirmed. She resolved then and there to come to London and find out who the man was and to make him marry you." Jane reached out to take Elizabeth's hand. It was as cold as ice.

"I lost my perfume vial. Mr. Darcy found it and sent it back to me wrapped in one of his own handkerchiefs. I kept it under my pillow. I..." Elizabeth fell silent and said nothing for several minutes.

"Lizzy?" Jane finally said, trying to gauge her sister's state of mind. It was not until then that she realized that her sister had been crying.

"I cannot believe it. That my own mother could believe me capable of...and tonight of all nights...when I was disposed to be so happy? Oh, Jane! I cannot, I must not allow Mr. Darcy to come tomorrow. I must not...." Her next words were lost in sobs. Jane put her arm around Elizabeth and hugged her. "She will ruin everything. No matter what he may feel about me, Mr. Darcy will never have her as a relative. I must have been crazy to even think it possible." Jane tried to quiet and calm the distraught woman, but Elizabeth would not allow herself to be consoled.

"I had only just learned to hope, and now all is lost," she said as she turned over and, laying her head on her pillow, cried herself to sleep.

Early the next morning, the Crenshaw family sat down to a hearty breakfast. The morning meal marked the first occasion in nearly a year when Mr. Crenshaw had all of his children about him again. His eldest son, Richard, sat at his right hand next to his wife, Elise. Mr. Crenshaw's younger son, Edward had been granted a few days' extra leave to be with his family. Olivia sat next to Adam Douglass, Elise's brother, and the elder of Richard and Elise's two daughters.

Like his father, Richard Crenshaw had made a study of the law, but unlike his father, he had never found the need to practice it, having had the good fortune to marry exceedingly well. It was not widely known that Jane Bennet had been the first object of Richard's affections, but when she did not return his love he had found solace in the arms of a very wealthy widow. He did not marry Elise Strong for her money, as many had thought at the time. He fell in love with the lady, not her forty thousand pounds. But people refused to believe it since Elise was somewhat plain. But one had only to spend a bit of time with that lady and experience her warm and personable nature to understand what Richard saw in her. And anyone who saw them together could not deny that they were deeply in love.

Adam Douglass was his sister's opposite: as fair as she was dark, shy and soft-spoken as she was confident and gregarious. He was almost unreasonably handsome, with deep blue eyes that invariably caused the hearts of ladies in his company to flutter and men in his company to secretly envy him. Mr. Douglass had been traveling with his sister and brother on the Continent, and was to join them at their home in Kent for the remainder of the summer.

"I do hope we will have a chance to see Miss Bennet while we are in town," Richard was saying. "It is a pity our numbers forced her to flee to the Gardiners." Olivia assured her brother that Elizabeth promised to visit very soon, and Mr. Crenshaw suggested that the Gardiners be invited to dine with the Crenshaws during his son's visit.

"It has been a long time since our families were all together. The last time was just after your mother's passing," he said softly. A sad quiet fell over the room for a few moments.

"Edward tells me that you received a puppy as a gift from your fiancé," Elise said, breaking the tension. Olivia smiled as she buttered her scone.

"Yes. That is why we call him the Little Colonel." Mr. Douglass laughed and asked if Colonel Fitzwilliam approved of having a dog named after him. "Well, to tell the truth," Olivia replied archly, "I did give him another name but the Colonel liked that one even less."

"What was it?" six-year old Eleanor asked.

"You must promise not to tell a soul," Olivia said dramatically, before realizing that such a promise could not be exacted from a child, much less her older brothers, notorious teases that they were. She promised to tell Eleanor later, when they were alone.

"So, you are to marry Richard Fitzwilliam," his friend of the same name said. "I would never have imagined the two of you as a couple. When did it happen?" Olivia tried to suppress the flush of color that she felt rising in her cheeks.

"I must admit that I first became infatuated with the Colonel when he came home from school with you many years ago. But I would have to say that I first came to his notice at a winter ball two years past."

"That was the ball where she wore that disgusting gown that left absolutely no doubt as to her sex," Edward interjected. Elise's mouth fell open as did her husband's. "You were there, Adam. You remember it, I am sure."

"I...I was there, and as I recall Miss Crenshaw looked very lovely," Mr. Douglass managed, reddening almost as much as Olivia.

"Exactly what sort of gown was this?" Elise queried her sister.

"It was pink," Mr. Crenshaw intoned. "Fashionable, flattering, modest, and very, very pink," he said in a manner that put an abrupt end to Edward's insinuations. Olivia glared at her younger brother triumphantly.

"So, when is the wedding to take place?" Richard asked, returning to his original line of discussion.

"We have not yet set a date. Richard's...the Colonel's parents have arrived in town and we are all to dine with them in a few days. I think that we may set a date after we have consulted with them."

"Your letter said Jane Bennet is also to be married," Richard continued. If he still felt anything for Jane when he said those words, he gave no outward sign.

"Yes. She is engaged to Charles Bingley. Do you know him?" Olivia asked.

"I know the name...I am certain that we must have met at some time or another. A friend of Darcys' is he not, father?"

"Yes. Bingley and the young Mr. Darcy are as thick as thieves. I do not believe their families were acquainted, however," Mr. Crenshaw replied. The two men fell into a conversation about the Darcy family, leaving Olivia and Elise to talk. Although Elise and Olivia rarely had a chance to spend much time together, they were very fond.

"You must be very excited," Elise said with a knowing smile. Olivia told Elise and Mr. Douglass, who knew too little of the Darcys to find interest in the men's conversation and was more inclined to follow his sister's lead in most things, the long and winding story of her courtship with the Colonel.

"Then you were expecting his proposal?" Mr. Douglass asked softly when Olivia concluded.

"I will not say that I was expecting it," Olivia laughed.

"She will also not say that she was desperately hoping for it," Elise added, and both ladies giggled, much to Mr. Douglass' bemusement. When breakfast was done, the family went about their separate tasks; the ladies repaired to the parlor, where they took up their sewing and continued their conversation. Edward and Adam went up to Edward's room to discuss things military, and the older two men went to the study. Eleanor was carted off by her nurse.

"Perhaps we should call on Lizzy today," Elise suggested. "She did promise to call on us, but since we displaced her I think that we owe her the courtesy of a first visit." Olivia was happy to see her friend regardless of the circumstances, and seconded the plan. A short while later, Richard, Elise, Olivia and Mr. Douglass arrived at the Gardiner's door. Inside, a nervous Jane and a panicked Elizabeth waited.

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner had spoken with the two ladies before Mrs. Bennet came down to breakfast, briefly describing the discussion between her husband and sister the previous night. Mrs. Gardiner thought it best that Elizabeth prepare herself for what was to come and warned her that Mrs. Bennet was determined to get to the bottom of her daughter's "scandalous" conduct.

Elizabeth was beside herself with worry that Mr. Darcy would be subjected to her mother's outrageous behavior and was determined to cancel his visit. Mr. Gardiner suggested that Jane write a note to Mr. Bingley and ask his help in postponing Mr. Darcy's call at the house. A hastily written note thus made its way across town to Mr. Bingley, where it was accepted by his sister at the door of his townhouse. She carried it into the breakfast room where her brother was enjoying a cup of coffee.

"Here, Charles. Your Miss Bennet apparently could not wait until a respectable hour to summon you," she intoned as she casually tossed the missive on the table. Mr. Bingley picked up the note and read it.

"Good God!" he yelped as hot coffee splattered on his formerly pristine cravat. He leapt up from the table and called for his carriage. As he ran upstairs to change his cravat, Miss Bingley's curiosity overcame her and she read the note her brother had carelessly discarded:

My Dearest Charles,

Please forgive this odd note, but I must write to beg your immediate assistance. I fear for Mr. Darcy.

You see, our mother has found Mr. Darcy's handkerchief in Lizzy's bedroom, and has come to London to expose him as Lizzy's lover. Mr. Darcy plans upon calling on Lizzy at Gracechurch Street this morning and I am writing you to beg your assistance in preventing him. Please prevent him, Charles! If Mr. Darcy comes to Gracechurch Street all will be ruined. Please assure Mr. Darcy that Elizabeth will happily meet with him at another time, but that he must not come here until we have convinced our mother to return home to Longbourn.

Please let me know of your success in reaching Mr. Darcy. Lizzy and I will eagerly await word.

Jane

A wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm Miss Bingley, but she forced herself to stand. She took a deep breath and fled the morning room.

Mr. Bingley arrived at Mr. Darcy's house before nine of the clock, and found the master at his own breakfast.

"Bingley! You are here rather early. Please, join me," Mr. Darcy said with a gesture toward the table. Mr. Bingley sat and cautiously accepted a cup of coffee. "I am planning on calling on Miss Bennet at Gracechurch Street this morning. If you are planning on visiting your fiancée, we may as well go together." Mr. Bingley looked into the cheerful face of his friend. Everything in Mr. Darcy's demeanor spoke of newfound optimism. Mr. Bingley felt a pang of misery as he carefully formed his next sentence.

"That is precisely why I have come, Darcy. I just received a note from Jane. She urged me to convince you not to go to Gracechurch Street this morning." Mr. Bingley paused, as he searched his pockets unsuccessfully for the note. Mr. Darcy's facial features stiffened.

"Not go? Why ever not?"

"I am afraid it is a bit of a muddle," Mr. Bingley began, still fumbling for the absent document. "According to Jane, Mrs. Bennet found a personal item of yours in Miss Elizabeth's bed chamber...blast, I must have left it in my other waistcoat...and she now suspects Miss Elizabeth of having taken a lover." Mr. Bingley gave up the search and laid his empty hands upon the table. "Jane seems to think that Mrs. Bennet thinks--."

"Wait a minute, Bingley," Mr. Darcy said rising and carrying his cup to the sideboard for a refill. "You say that Mrs. Bennet found an object of mine among Miss Bennet's personal effects?"

"A handkerchief, if I remember correctly," Mr. Bingley amended. "Although I do not know that she knows it to be yours. But Jane seems to believe that she will think it is yours if you appear this morning at Gracechurch Street."

"Why?" asked a confused Mr. Darcy. Mr. Bingley could only shrug in response. Mr. Darcy stared into his cup for a moment. Then he shrugged his shoulders as well. "Well, there is only one thing for it," Mr. Darcy said with a wry smile. He placed the cup on the sideboard and adjusted his cuffs. "I must go to Mrs. Bennet and confess."

"Darcy!" Mr. Bingley leapt to his feet, his mouth agape. Mr. Darcy laughed.

"Oh, I am innocent of whatever that inane woman is accusing me of, but I am willing to take responsibility for it and accept whatever punishment she decides to mete out."

"And if that punishment is banishment from Miss Elizabeth's company?" asked a dubious Mr. Bingley, as he followed Mr. Darcy toward the door of the breakfast room. Mr. Darcy looked askance at his suggestion.

"This is Mrs. Bennet of Longbourn we are speaking of. She will demand that I marry her daughter, and I as a gentleman will have no choice but to comply." Mr. Darcy stepped forward, but Mr. Bingley reached out and prevented Mr. Darcy from opening the door.

"Think, man! Will Miss Elizabeth appreciate your stooping to such a tactic?" Mr. Darcy turned his back to the door and leaned heavily against it. He knew that Mr. Bingley was correct.

"What am I to do, then, Bingley? I promised Miss Bennet that I would see her today. I would not want to disappoint her."

"You are far more likely to disappoint her if you resort to chicanery to win her hand." Mr. Bingley smiled. "I have another idea."

"If it is as good as your last one, I am all ears." A short while later, the two men parted company. Mr. Darcy walked along the perimeter of ______ Park, while Mr. Bingley made his way to Gracechurch Street.

When the doorbell sounded at Gracechurch Street, Elizabeth froze. She lowered herself into a seat and mercilessly gripped the armrests. Jane, who was resting her ankle on a divan that had been brought down from the Gardiner's sitting room, held her breath. A moment later, however, the Crenshaw party was shown into the parlor. Jane and Elizabeth were reunited with Richard Crenshaw, Elise, and Mr. Douglass, who had met the two ladies several years ago at Richard and Elise's wedding. When Mr. Gardiner joined his guests in the parlor Olivia managed to find a moment with Elizabeth to get caught up on gossip. She was most pleased to learn that Elizabeth had spent part of the previous evening in the company of Mr. Darcy. The ladies repaired to the relative privacy of the window seat to talk.

"It sounds as though the two of you are finally getting somewhere," Olivia smiled.

"Oh, but it will be all for naught if he keeps his promise and comes here this morning. I am sure that my mother will offend him irrevocably," Elizabeth said worriedly, twisting the handkerchief in her hand.

"But she is out this morning, you said," Olivia reasoned. Elizabeth was determinedly grim.

"Yes, but only for now. I have every confidence that she will return in time to ruin my every hope." Olivia put her arm around Elizabeth, attracting the attention of Elise, who came over fearing that something was amiss.

"Are you all right, Miss Bennet? I am afraid you look unwell," Elise whispered as she sat on Elizabeth's other side and took her hand. Olivia fashioned a hasty excuse to explain Elizabeth's anxiety.

"I am afraid that Lizzy was out rather late last evening and is the worse for it this morning," Olivia said unconvincingly. Elise could see that Elizabeth's anxiety had nothing to do with a lack of sleep, but she chose not to pry. She was about to make a tactful retreat when a commotion was heard in the hall. A moment later, Mrs. Bennet, followed by a slightly flustered Mrs. Gardiner, swept into the room.

"I have never been so exhausted in my life," Mrs. Bennet exclaimed. "I do declare, sister, you must have meant to torment me with so many shops, so many selections of muslin and lace. So many laces, Mrs. Gardiner! I could not take it all in. My nerves cannot cope with so much excitement," she declared collapsing dramatically into the nearest chair. Jane glanced at Elizabeth, who had gone absolutely pale. Mr. Gardiner was also alarmed by the early return of his wife and sister.

"Mama," Jane said quickly. "We have guests. You will remember the Crenshaws. This is Mr. Richard Crenshaw and his wife, Mrs. Crenshaw, and of course, Olivia. And this is Mr. Douglass, Mrs. Crenshaw's brother." Mrs. Bennet spared the merest courtesies for the Crenshaws, out of her supposed exhaustion and a lingering dislike for Mrs. Crenshaw (whom she had long accused of luring Richard Crenshaw away from Jane). She greeted Olivia politely, but reserved her charm for Mr. Douglass. He was someone new, a handsome man from a very wealthy family. Here was a man who might make a good husband for one of her daughters. She proceeded to question him about his family and connections, smiling slyly when she learned that Mr. Douglass' estate was in Kent. She looked at Elizabeth, thoughts of the embroidered "D" apparently on her mind. Lizzy cringed at the interrogation, while Olivia could not fathom how Mrs. Bennet could see Mr. Douglass as an apt match for Elizabeth, even with his income of five thousand a year.

Into this interesting setting, Mr. Fowler was unexpectedly announced. Elizabeth was both relieved and upset at his appearance. She had concluded that she did not like Mr. Fowler. He was pleasant enough, to be sure, but his interest in her seemed to spring as much from a desire to compete with his friend Mr. Darcy as from any genuine inclination toward her. Elizabeth, however, welcomed Mr. Fowler as a distraction for both herself and her mother. Perhaps if Mr. Darcy did appear now, Mrs. Bennet would be too overwhelmed by the surfeit of eligible bachelors to pay him much attention. Elizabeth had to worry, however, that Mr. Fowler's presence might prove daunting to her elusive suitor.

"Mr. Fowler, may I introduce my mother, Mrs. Bennet, and my friends, Miss Crenshaw and Mr. Douglass. Mr. Fowler greeted Olivia with a gracious bow that instantly excited her distrust. Mr. Fowler and Mr. Douglass exchanged curt greetings before Mr. Douglass excused himself to return to his sister. "I must apologize for abandoning you last evening, Mr. Fowler," Elizabeth began sheepishly. "I suddenly remembered that I had Mr. Darcy's libretto and I wanted to return it to him while I had the chance."

"I see, Miss Bennet," Mr. Fowler replied in a tone that did not admit acceptance of her apology. His tone abruptly changed to become more pleasing. "Have you known Mr. Darcy very long?" Olivia eyed Mr. Fowler suspiciously as Elizabeth responded to his query.

"I have known him less than a year, sir."

"Really? I wonder that he has not ever mentioned you," Mr. Fowler smiled benignly.

"Mr. Darcy told me last evening that, until this week, he had not seen you in some three or four years, Mr. Fowler. I should think that a discussion of Mr. Darcy's recent acquaintances would be rendered virtually impossible by that circumstance," Elizabeth said calmly. Mr. Fowler smiled uneasily. He was not prepared for the sharpness of Elizabeth's wit.

"You have the right of it, Miss Bennet, of course. But I still think that Darcy would have hidden from you from me if he could."

"I would hope that he should not find such behavior necessary," Elizabeth smiled. "It would not likely reflect well upon either of us."

"Miss Bennet?" Mr. Fowler was completely lost. Olivia found pleasure in his confusion.

"Such an action can only mean that he is embarrassed by one of us, or perhaps mistrusts the other." Elizabeth looked Mr. Fowler in the eye. "Do you think Mr. Darcy finds me embarrassing, Mr. Fowler?" Disarmed, annoyed, enchanted, and intrigued despite himself, Mr. Fowler could offer no response. Elizabeth was beginning to feel more herself. The morning was nearly over, and soon it would be too late for Mr. Darcy to call. Perhaps Mr. Bingley had successfully dissuaded him. Elizabeth wondered how he would react to being told to stay away, however, and her mind suddenly filled with unpleasant thoughts. Her fears began to return, especially when her mother chose that moment to rejoin the party at the window. Mrs. Bennet's interest in Mr. Fowler was piqued by Richard Crenshaw's revelation that Mr. Fowler enjoyed an income of eight thousand per annum.

"I had come here this morning hoping to persuade you to come out for a walk with me, Miss Bennet," Mr. Fowler said as he tried to recover his poise. Perhaps if he got her alone he could begin afresh and gain the upper hand.

"Oh, but she cannot go out with you this morning sir," Mrs. Bennet cried. "She has other guests, and her admirers," she said with a wink toward a bewildered Mr. Douglass, "Would hardly appreciate you absconding with their favorite."

"No...no, Mr. Fowler. My mother is correct. It would be impolite of me to leave when my aunt and uncle have so many guests to entertain." Walking out with Mr. Fowler was the last thing Elizabeth wanted to do. Mrs. Bennet suggested to Mr. Fowler that "if he was to come again at a more opportune time" she was certain that her "Lizzy would not be at all adverse to walking out with you." Pleased to have found an ally in his pursuit, Mr. Fowler welcomed Mrs. Bennet's efforts to coyly insinuate herself into his conversation with Elizabeth. As he predicted, Elizabeth quickly grew silent, and Mrs. Bennet and Mr. Fowler chatted amiably. Mrs. Gardiner, Jane, and Olivia watched this odd display for some moments, until the doorbell rang yet again.

When Mr. Bingley entered the parlor, Jane and Elizabeth looked at him expectantly. His smile told them that all was well. As the Crenshaws prepared to take their leave, Mr. Bingley wasted no time in suggesting that he take the Bennet sisters on a ride through the park. Fearing that Mrs. Bennet would insist on Mr. Fowler joining them, Elizabeth declined. Mr. Bingley whispered something into Jane's ear.

"Lizzy?" Jane asked a moment later. "Will you not reconsider? Mr. Bingley assures me that it is lovely outside and that there is much to be seen in the park," she said with a significant look. But Elizabeth was not paying attention.

"I have already declined Mr. Fowler's invitation to take a turn out of doors, and so I must decline Mr. Bingley's fine offer as well," Elizabeth said with a significant look of her own. Jane and Bingley exchanged glances and Mr. Bingley reluctantly took a seat beside his fiancée. Much to Elizabeth's surprise, however, Mr. Fowler left along with the Crenshaws, and calm was finally restored to the Gardiner's townhouse. Mrs. Bennet, satisfied with her morning's work, retired to her room, leaving Jane, Bingley and Elizabeth alone with the Gardiners.

"Miss Elizabeth, I spoke with Mr. Darcy this morning and was able to persuade him not to come to the house. However, he did agree to wait upon us in the park," Mr. Bingley said.

"Oh, dear!" Elizabeth exclaimed, jumping to her feet, followed quickly by the others. "Do you think he will still be there?" But as Mr. Bingley and Mr. Gardiner began to help Jane to her feet, Mrs. Bennet returned to the parlor carrying a bundle of fabric samples.

"Since we have the house to ourselves again," she smiled to the stunned gathering, "And Mr. Bingley, I quite consider you a member of the family already--I think we should use this time while Jane is laid up to discuss the wedding." Jane sat down again. Mr. Bingley sat, Mr. Gardiner sat, and Mrs. Bennet sat in the large armchair near Jane. Elizabeth remained standing, her hands clenched in tight fists.
"Now I think that we should begin with the bridesmaids..." Mrs. Bennet began as she rifled through her fabric scraps. Elizabeth turned and bolted from the room. She ran up to her room, ignoring her mother's demand that she return to look at fabrics. In the bedroom, Elizabeth threw herself on the bed and banged on it with her fists. After a moment she rolled over onto her back. Then she grew calm. Mr. Bingley had spoken to Mr. Darcy and all was well. If only she could get to him at the park...

Chapter 16

It was some time before Mr. Bingley was rescued from the ordeal of suffering Mrs. Bennet and her fabric samples. Protestations that selecting bridal gown fabric was not a job for a man fell on deaf ears as did Mr. Bingley's suggestion that to know what his bride would be wearing defied the dictates of superstition.

"Nonsense, Mr. Bingley!" Mrs. Bennet laughed. "Surely you do not hold to old wives' tales and such silliness. It shall do you no harm to see such things."

"But I do not wish to see them, ma'am," Mr. Bingley said with uncharacteristic firmness. Mrs. Bennet gaped at him momentarily, as did Jane and Elizabeth, who smiled at his display of wills. "Really, Mrs. Bennet, I must insist. I am determined to be completely surprised on my wedding day when I look upon your daughter for the first time," he said with a warm smile for Jane. "Besides, I have other things to do this morning," he said as he rose to his feet, holding Jane's hand in his. He squeezed it gently, questioningly, and she nodded. "I am afraid I must take my leave."

"But Mr. Bingley! I found a lovely blue damask that would make excellent draperies for the master--!"

"Mama!" Elizabeth gasped.

"Perhaps we should leave such decisions to Mr. Bingley, sister," Mrs. Gardiner said in a tone that brooked no argument.

"Well," she said. "Well, then," she began again, this time with a sly smile. "Here you are, Mr. Bingley," Mrs. Bennet said as she handed him a bundle of fabric swatches. "Perhaps you should discuss this matter with your future wife." With that she rose elegantly and left the room. Elizabeth gaped, as did Mrs. Gardiner, who followed Mrs. Bennet out of the parlor. Elizabeth turned back to her blushing sister and shrugged. Then she, too, left the couple. Mr. Bingley sighed and sat down again, tossing the bundle of fabric onto a nearby table as though it had suddenly grown too hot to handle.

"I am sorry about Mama," Jane said in a small voice. Mr. Bingley shook his head.

"No need to apologize. I am glad that she left us alone, finally." Jane felt her face grow even warmer. "Do you realize that we have not been alone since I proposed to you?" Mr. Bingley turned to Jane and smiled. She shyly returned the smile and leaned forward to receive his kiss. It was a rather tentative kiss at first, but Mr. Bingley soon warmed to the task and raised his free hand to cup Jane's cheek. He deepened the kiss then, breaking away only when he heard a gasp. The couple turned to see Elizabeth in the doorway. She quickly recovered.

"Forgive me. I...I forgot my needlework. Pretend you did not even see me," she smiled archly as she quickly crossed the room to retrieve her basket. Mr. Bingley did as he was bidden and was kissing Jane again well before Elizabeth reached the door.

Arriving at home, Olivia was delighted to find the Colonel in the parlor with her father. She greeted the Colonel with a spontaneous and warm hug, forgetting for the moment that they were not alone. Colonel Fitzwilliam, however, spied the others smirking behind his intended and quickly extricated himself to greet his friends.

"Fitzwilliam!" exclaimed the younger Mr. Crenshaw. "I hear that you are about to join our family!" he said when everyone had settled. The Colonel gazed lovingly at Olivia and, lost in thought, did not bother to reply. "Does that happen often, father?" Richard Crenshaw asked.

"With astounding regularity. It got so Edward nearly canceled his own leave just so he could find someone to talk to." The sound of laughter distracted the two lovers, and they sheepishly rejoined the conversation. After a short while, Elise decided to go and check on her daughters, and on her cue her brother, husband, and father also found an excuse to give the happy couple some privacy. As soon as they were alone, Olivia launched into an account of what had transpired between Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy at the theatre.

"I must say that I am pleased by this development. I knew that if they could just find a way begin they could soon put things right. But I do not like the idea of Fowler lurking about," the Colonel said as he accepted a cup of tea from Olivia.

"Do you know him?" she asked, taking a seat beside the Colonel.

"Not well. He was in Darcy's class at Cambridge, a year behind me. I know of him, though. Something of a ladies' man and a bit of a rake," he said distastefully.

"I would not worry about him on Elizabeth's account," Olivia reassured him, "But I am concerned about her and Mr. Darcy. Lizzy told me that he was to come to call on her this morning, but she had Mr. Bingley prevent him. I hope that Mrs. Bennet will not make it impossible for them to meet. Not when things were just beginning to go well." The Colonel put down the cup.

"Look, if Darcy is going to marry Miss Bennet someday, he is going to have to come to some understanding with Mrs. Bennet," Colonel Fitzwilliam began, but Olivia shook her head.

"You do not know Mrs. Bennet, Richard. 'Understanding' is not her forte, and she is no small part of the reason why Mr. Darcy did not wish to connect himself with Lizzy in the first place. If she were my mother, she would put even you off, and you are disposed to like everyone!" Colonel Fitzwilliam flashed his most endearing smile.

"There is not a creature on this earth that could put me off you, my love," he said as Olivia's heart melted. He stole a quick kiss and then abruptly rose and led her to the door.

"Where are we going?" Olivia cried as she stopped only long enough to reach for her bonnet and parasol.

"To find Darcy; I do not want him to lose hope before he has had a chance to win his prize." As soon as Olivia had tied the pale blue ribbon under her chin, the Colonel whisked her out of the house. It was a sunny, hot afternoon, and the couple decided to take the scenic route to _______ Street, through the park.

"Is that not Mr. Darcy?" Olivia asked a short while later, gazing toward the pond where Mr. Darcy sat on a bench reading. The couple cut across the lawn to reach him. As they strolled in his direction, they saw a woman approach Mr. Darcy and confront him, a piece of paper in her hand. They stopped and exchanged a quizzical glance before quickening their pace.

"Mr. Darcy! Should you not be at Gracechurch Street this morning?" Miss Bingley asked sarcastically. Mr. Darcy was startled out of his concentration on the page he was reading. He had been waiting for some time for Bingley and the ladies to appear, and had become lost in a book of poetry as he passed the time.

"Miss Bingley," he said rising. "Please forgive me. I was absorbed by Shakespeare and did not hear your approach." Mr. Darcy had not heard Miss Bingley's first remark clearly; he heard the words 'Gracechurch Street' but was uncertain of what was said about it. Miss Bingley smiled archly. She was happy to have caught him off guard and would use it to her advantage.

"When last we met, sir, I told you of a most distasteful rumor. You seemed to take it as a joke on my part. But I assure you, sir, it is no laughing matter. Miss Eliza Bennet and her sister Jane Bennet are trying to entrap you into marriage." She brandished the paper in her hand. "They are even trying to involve my own brother, your dearest friend, into their ungodly scheme." Mr. Darcy peered at the paper in Miss Bingley's hand but could not make out what it was. He had no reason to connect it with the note Mr. Bingley had spoken of earlier. He started to reach for it, but Miss Bingley drew the paper from his grasp in a casual way, as though she had not noticed his gesture.

"Miss Bingley, what are you about? Speak plainly," Mr. Darcy replied with exasperation. He was not so much interested in what Miss Bingley had to say as in the speed with which she said it. After all, if everything went well for Mr. Bingley at the Gardiners', he and the Bennet sisters might appear at any moment.

"They are trying to ruin your good name, Mr. Darcy. And I have half a mind to let them succeed. It would be a fitting revenge upon both you and Miss Eliza Bennet." Mr. Darcy could feel his blood beginning to boil.

"You have the audacity to threaten me, Miss Bingley? Why? Because your own pathetic schemes to trap me into marrying you have failed?" Mr. Darcy rose to his full height, which became even more imposing when he went to stand very close to Miss Bingley and spoke in a voice so low and menacing only she could hear him.

"Go ahead and do your worst, Miss Bingley. But you may be absolutely assured of two things: I love Elizabeth Bennet and will continue to do so until my dying breath, and that nothing on this earth could prevail upon me to feel anything more than the basest contempt for you." With that, Mr. Darcy backed away, and looked up to see Olivia and Colonel Fitzwilliam not three paces away. Miss Bingley followed his gaze, and seeing the approaching couple, she dropped the note and ran off. Olivia retrieved the note and tore it up without even looking at it.

"What was that all about?" the Colonel asked as he watched Miss Bingley scurry across the grass.

"Absolutely nothing at all, cousin," Mr. Darcy growled. He suddenly smiled, and offered a proper greeting to Olivia.
"It is very good to see you again, Miss Crenshaw. And may I wish you joy on your recent engagement to my cousin," he said with a glance in the Colonel's direction. Olivia graciously accepted the compliment before she told him what had happened at the Gardiners'.

"I am afraid that poor Lizzy was trapped; she could not come out to meet you, having refused Mr. Fowler. And had she been able to do so, she would have had to bring Mr. Fowler along," Olivia explained as the trio sat on the bench by the pond. Mr. Darcy glanced at his cousin. They both knew what Mr. Fowler was capable of.

"Perhaps I should go to Gracechurch Street," Mr. Darcy said, rising from the bench. "I can cope with Mrs. Bennet," he said determinedly, "But I do not want Fowler ingratiating himself with Eliz--Miss Bennet." Olivia rose and held his arm.

"You need not worry about Lizzy, Mr. Darcy. She has no illusions about Mr. Fowler. And as for Mrs. Bennet, I believe that if nothing else happens to excite her she will soon calm down and go home. She has Jane's wedding to prepare for, after all." Colonel Fitzwilliam added weight to Olivia's argument.

"You have waited this long, you must simply be patient a bit longer, cousin."

"But I must speak with Miss Bennet. I have to know if I have a chance...if there is anything to wait for..." Mr. Darcy said petulantly. Olivia took his arm and she and the Colonel began leading Mr. Darcy toward his own home.

"If my assurances mean anything, Mr. Darcy, I believe that your forbearance will be well rewarded." She thought a minute, then added, "In fact, if you will be so good as to join us for dinner this evening, you will not have to wait very long at all." Mr. Darcy immediately brightened and accepted her invitation. Olivia made a mental note to send an invitation to Elizabeth as soon as she reached her home. As the trio took the familiar route out of the park, Olivia recalled the last time that they had taken that path together. She told Mr. Darcy the entire story of how she and Elizabeth had come to be in the park in the first place. "So you see, Mr. Darcy, I had this great notion that if we could just speak with Mr. Bingley...well, as it turned out, I was right," Olivia concluded with a laugh.

"Except that Miss Bennet got herself hopelessly lost, Darcy got himself injured, and Mr. Bingley found Miss Bennet completely by accident," Colonel Fitzwilliam deadpanned.

"Yes, but Mr. Bingley did speak with Jane that very day, and they have been inseparable ever since," Olivia retorted.

"Brilliant planning, Miss Crenshaw. I had no idea that you were an expert strategist. I am beginning to understand your attraction to her, Colonel Fitzwilliam." The men laughed while Olivia smirked indulgently. Mr. Darcy suddenly grew serious. "Perhaps I should engage you to figure out how to straighten out my own love life."

"Be careful what you ask for cousin," Colonel Fitzwilliam said as Olivia rapped him on the arm with the tip of her parasol. But the Colonel remembered Olivia's failed effort to bring the pair together. "Trust me. You and Miss Bennet do not need anyone's help, just patience." He ignored his fiancée's pointed look as he repeated his advice. The couple left Mr. Darcy in front of his townhouse and walked back toward the Crenshaw townhouse.

"So? I am suddenly useless at matchmaking, am I? Did you not come to beg my assistance with Mr. Darcy and Lizzy not two weeks ago?" Olivia accused her chuckling companion.

"And did you not nearly ruin things by inviting Miss Bennet to town just as Darcy decided to go to Netherfield?"

"It would appear to me, dearest," Olivia said with a slight edge to her voice, "That my decision to invite Lizzy to town was a wise one, given that Mr. Darcy's appearance at Netherfield led her to flee Hertfordshire." Colonel Fitzwilliam opened his mouth with a well-aimed retort, then thought better of it. He drew Olivia closer to his side.

"My love, you are a wonderful matchmaker. Through your efforts, Mr. Bingley and Jane have been reunited and you and I have found a happiness together that I never dared to hope for. But I do not believe that Darcy and Miss Bennet need your help any longer. You can bring them together, but they have to find their own way after that. And, if Darcy loves Miss Bennet half as much as I do you," He said as he slipped an arm about her waist, "There will be three wedding for our friends to attend this year."

Mr. Bingley spent the better part of the next half hour sharing his hopes and dreams for his future with his beloved Jane. They spoke quietly so that only they could hear, in spite of the fact that they were completely alone. They laughed together; they cried together when Mr. Bingley expressed his deepest regret that he could not show his parents the woman who had won his heart. They dreamed, they hoped. They cherished their private moments together, which ended abruptly when Mrs. Gardiner returned to the parlor.

Jane's aunt was shocked. She had assumed, when she left the room to give her sister a piece of her mind, that Elizabeth would stay to serve as chaperone to the couple. But the pair had apparently been left alone. Mrs. Gardiner wanted to put on a stony face and silently declare her disapproval at the scene before her, but it was all she could do to hide her smile. The couple was radiant. Jane sat on the settee with Mr. Bingley beside her. Jane's neatly wrapped ankle was propped on a small footstool, shamelessly exposed. Mrs. Gardiner raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as she went to sit near the window. Mr. Bingley rose to his feet and approached her.

"I was about to take my leave, Mrs. Gardiner," he said, trying in spite of himself to appear contrite. He knew he ought to be, but he was far too happy. Mrs. Gardiner found his smile infectious and dropped all pretense of behaving like the stern aunt she was supposed to be.

"I hope you shall come again soon, Mr. Bingley," she said.

"I am afraid that until your niece's ankle improves, I must trespass on your hospitality again."

"Well, if you feel you must," Mrs. Gardiner sighed dramatically, "I suppose we must receive you tomorrow and endure it somehow." Jane giggled and Mr. Bingley wicked before he kissed Mrs. Gardiner's hand. "Until then, ma'am." He returned to Jane and kissed her hand before he walked to the door, stopping to extend his regards to all of the family before disappearing into the hall.

"Cheeky little man," Mrs. Gardiner observed aloud.

"Aunt Gardiner!" Jane cried.

"I have a cheeky niece as well; two of them, in fact. I shall have to have a serious chat with Lizzy about the impropriety of leaving a pair of young lovers alone together in my parlor." Jane had the good sense to blush. Satisfied, Mrs. Gardiner turned her attention to the book in her lap.

Mr. Darcy entered his house and repaired to his study. He poured out a brandy and stared at the clock. He had four hours before he was expected at the Crenshaws. He leaned back in the soft armchair. Maybe Miss Crenshaw is correct. All it takes is a simple notion and the will to carry it out. Mr. Darcy stretched out his long legs and thought. After a quarter of an hour, an idea came to him, and he went to his desk and drew out a sheet of paper. Some two hours later, Mr. Darcy heard a knock at his door. Mr. Harris came in and announced his aunt, Lady Rebecca Fitzwilliam. Mr. Darcy rose and warmly welcomed her. He offered her a chair and a glass of sherry and, warning her of his forthcoming dinner engagement in an hour and a half, sat down to talk.

"I was certain that I would be intruding upon your time, but I could not resist taking an opportunity to visit with my favorite nephew."

"And I am glad to see you, Aunt Rebecca," Mr. Darcy said. Lady Rebecca Fitzwilliam, mother of the Colonel, was like a second mother to Mr. Darcy. She had been in the country since the start of the warm weather, and only her son's engagement had persuaded her to abandon her estate and come to town. They began by getting caught up on family news. Mr. Darcy asked after his sister and learned that she would be arriving in town in two days to attend her cousin's engagement party. Lady Rebecca waxed poetically over Georgiana's progress in her art and music lessons for several minutes before startling Mr. Darcy by asking how he was faring with Miss Bennet.

"What do you know of Miss Bennet?" he asked.

"I am neither deaf, dumb, nor blind, dear. Richard first mentioned Miss Bennet to me some months ago, and you spoke of little else but Miss Bennet while you were visiting with us last month." Mr. Darcy blushed. He had not realized that he had been so unguarded. He gave his aunt a brief account of his entire history with Elizabeth, and concluded with his hope of seeing her at dinner that very night.

"I have to agree with Richard. After so many mistakes and miscues, patience is called for at this stage. However, I agree with Miss Crenshaw as well. You could use a helping hand." Mrs. Fitzwilliam rose and went to the desk. "I have met the girl on several occasions, but I cannot say I know her well. I so, however, think we are going to get on famously," Lady Rebecca added as she drew out a sheet of paper and added the Bennets, Gardiners and Bingleys to her guest list for her son's engagement party. Mr. Darcy thanked her as he escorted her to the door.

"Remember, Fitzwilliam," Lady Rebecca said as she gazed into his eyes. "If she is worth having at all, she is worth waiting for. Now," she said, kissing him on the cheek, "Go and dress for dinner." Mr. Darcy smiled all the way upstairs to his chambers. Then, remembering his forgotten project, he turned back and called for Mr. Harris from the top of the stairs. The butler appeared instantly.

"Sir?"

"I left something on my desk in the study. Take care of it, would you?"

"With pleasure, sir," was Mr. Harris' reply. With a nod of thanks, Mr. Darcy disappeared into his chambers and prepared for his bath.

It was hours before Elizabeth slipped downstairs again. She made her way into her uncle's study, where her uncle offered her a glass of Madeira before she curled up with a book. Her uncle had dozed off before long, and Elizabeth started to leave the room when she was met at the door by a maid.

"This just came for you, Miss," the maid said with a curtsey before excused herself.

"What is it?" Mr. Gardiner asked as he roused himself. Elizabeth's smile was reassuring.

"I have been invited to dinner at the Crenshaw's. May I go, Uncle?"

"I do not see why not." He drew out his watch. "It is growing late. I will order the carriage while you go and prepare yourself." A half hour later, Elizabeth descended the stairs. She was glad to have a reason to leave the house, an excuse to avoid her mother. Mrs. Bennet had doggedly pursued her to her room and demanded that she select fabric for her bridal attire. Elizabeth complied simply to be rid of her mother, but Mrs. Bennet remained with Elizabeth for over an hour fretting on minute and irrelevant details. She had been avoiding her mother ever since, escaping only long enough to peek in on Jane and Mr. Bingley for a moment; she had not even told her Mrs. Bennet of her dinner plans.

"You look lovely, dear," Mrs. Gardiner said as she emerged from the parlor. Mrs. Bennet came down the stairs behind her second born.

"Yes, you do look lovely, child. I am certain that Mr. Fowler will be pleased." Elizabeth turned to look at her mother.

"Mr. Fowler? Mama, I am dining with the Crenshaws tonight. Olivia's note said it was to be a simple family dinner. I do not believe that Mr. Fowler is invited." Mrs. Bennet's face became red.

"The Crenshaws? You most certainly are not dining with the Crenshaws this evening. I forbid it. I have invited Mr. Fowler to dine with us this evening--did I not sister?--and he has most graciously accepted. This is meant as a compliment to you, Lizzy, and I will not hear of you dining with the Crenshaws!" Elizabeth's mouth fell open. She looked at her aunt, whose face belied the truth. Mrs. Bennet had taken the liberty of inviting Mr. Fowler to dinner and only informed Mrs. Gardiner of the deed after he had accepted. Elizabeth looked at her uncle. He nodded to Elizabeth.

"Fanny, I gave Lizzy permission to dine with the Crenshaws this evening. It is too late for her to refuse the invitation now. Go on, Lizzy, the carriage is waiting for you." Elizabeth kissed her uncle and turned to leave.

"Wait right there, Miss Lizzy Bennet! I am your mother and I insist that you stay and dine with Mr. Fowler!" Elizabeth turned back and stared at her mother defiantly.

"He is your guest, Mama, not mine. You stay and dine with him!" Elizabeth raced to the carriage. As it pulled away, Elizabeth sat back and sighed. Maybe coming to London had not been a good idea after all. Had she stayed in Hertfordshire and spoken to Mr. Darcy--. But there was nothing to be gained in dwelling on the past. All she could do now is look forward to a quiet, pleasant evening among her friends, a turbulent and painful return to the Gardiners, and--if she was lucky--another chance to see Mr. Darcy on the morrow.

Elizabeth had calmed considerably by the time she reached the Crenshaw's residence at ______ Street. She was shown into the parlor where she found the ladies of the house engaged in conversation. The men of the house--Mr. Crenshaw, Richard and Edward Crenshaw, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Mr. Douglass--were in the library discussing the politics of the day. Elizabeth immediately began to apologize for her tardy arrival, but Olivia reassured her.

"Do not worry yourself, Lizzy. You know we never stand on ceremony here, and besides, our other guest is even later than you are," Olivia said with a sly smile.

"Another guest? Your note said nothing about--."

"I need not tell you everything, need I?" Olivia seated herself on the settee next to Elise. Elizabeth claimed a chair close by as she began to explain the reason for her late arrival.

"You would not believe what I was subjected to while trying to leave the house this evening," Elizabeth began. She glanced at Elise and then quickly moderated her tone.

"Mama was not at all pleased that I came out tonight," she said more calmly. Elizabeth was about to take a seat when she heard the sound of men's voices in the hall.

"Darcy! At last! I thought I might starve to death awaiting your arrival," Colonel Fitzwilliam was heard to exclaim.

"Well, I hope you do not, for it would weigh very heavily on your mother's conscience. It was she who delayed me," Mr. Darcy said with a laugh. Elizabeth froze, her eyes fixed upon Olivia. Olivia smiled and nodded. Elizabeth rose to her full height and turned away from the door as it was opened. Tears were welling up in her eyes and she struggled to regain her composure.

"It would pain my dear Mama greatly to learn that you have abused her so abominably to her own son," the Colonel retorted. But Mr. Darcy was no longer listening. He had seen Elizabeth, or rather sensed Elizabeth's presence. He did not trust himself to look in her direction just yet. He knew that once he did, he would be unable to concentrate his attention on anything or anyone else. Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam led the male members of the party into the parlor, where Mr. Darcy greeted Elise and Olivia. He turned to face Elizabeth just as she regained her composure and turned toward him.

"Miss Bennet! We meet again. I seem to have been blessed with extraordinary good luck this week," Mr. Darcy said as he glanced meaningfully at Olivia and smiled.

"You are too kind, sir," Elizabeth managed, extending a trembling hand. Behind her, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Olivia exchanged smiles. Mr. Crenshaw suggested that the party adjourn to the dining room. Mr. Darcy offered to escort Elizabeth and she happily accepted his offer. To no one's surprise, Mr. Darcy claimed the seat beside Elizabeth at the table. When the soup had been served, Elise reminded Elizabeth that she had not finished her explanation of why she was late. Elizabeth blushed.

"Oh, it was really nothing important," she dodged, unwilling to tell the whole story in Mr. Darcy's presence. Invoking Mr. Fowler's name under the present circumstances was out of the question. "I failed to inform my mother of Olivia's invitation and she was quite put out when I left." Olivia looked at Elizabeth and knew that there was more to the story. But she chose not to press the matter.

"So both you and Mr. Darcy were delayed by the untimely intervention of a mother," Olivia suggested. The Colonel nudged her lightly.

"Hey there! You would do well to remember that one of those mothers you are speaking of is shortly to become your own."

"And I cannot wait," Olivia said with a loving look at the Colonel that made both Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, who were directly opposite the couple, smile.

"Have you met Lady Rebecca?" Elizabeth asked Olivia.

"Yes, we have been acquainted for years, however, it is only a formal acquaintance. I do so look forward to getting to know Richard's family. He says that we shall all get along famously," Olivia said with another smile meant only for the Colonel's eyes.

"You are already well liked by the part of the family that has come to know you, Miss Crenshaw, and Aunt Rebecca is well disposed to think very highly of you," Mr. Darcy said graciously. "But then, she would be disposed to like anyone who would condescend to marry her youngest," he added with a smirk for his cousin. Elizabeth looked at Mr. Darcy strangely. She was surprised by his open and easy manners, which she had last witnessed in the spring. His good humor lasted throughout the dinner. Colonel Fitzwilliam, Mr. Darcy, and Richard Crenshaw exchanged stories about their childhood pranks and the trouble they often got into. Never had Elizabeth enjoyed herself so much in Mr. Darcy's company. She found herself hoping that the evening was not some figment of her imagination, or a cruel dream. The meal was over too soon for Elizabeth, and the men retreated to the library for port. Olivia grabbed the Colonel by the arm as he headed for the door.

"I beg of you, Richard. Do not allow father to cajole you into staying in there half the night. Things are going well for them, and I do not want to see them separated for too long." The Colonel solemnly promised to bring the men back in record time, extracted a kiss from his fiancée in payment, and with a wink for the other ladies, disappeared.

"What was that all about?" Elise wondered aloud as the ladies retired to the parlor.

"Oh, nothing," Olivia said airily, as she led the way into the room. Elise, of course, was too wise in the ways of the world to believe her. She had been closely observing Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy since their arrival and had already come to a few conclusions. She also strongly suspected that Olivia and the Colonel were inexplicably trying to orchestrate the courtship of the other pair, though they seemed to be in no need of assistance. Elise looked at Elizabeth, who looked as radiant and happy as she was pale and miserable when she saw her that morning. There was a mystery here, and it had something to do with Mrs. Bennet and Mr. Fowler.

"Miss Bennet," asked, Elise. "Have you known Mr. Darcy very long?"

"We met not quite a year ago," Elizabeth replied.

"And he is a friend of Mr. Fowler's is he not? I believe I heard Mr. Fowler mention Mr. Darcy's name this morning," Elise maintained. Elizabeth's sigh told her all she needed, but Elizabeth spoke nonetheless.

"I believe the two men were at Cambridge together." Olivia, fearing that the men might return at any moment, steered the subject away from Mr. Fowler.

"I met Mr. Darcy in the park this afternoon, Lizzy, quite by accident," she said with a gleam in her eye. "He, the Colonel, and I got to reminiscing about that day in the park last March." Elizabeth's face registered her surprise.

"Elise, Lizzy and I can claim responsibility for Jane and Mr. Bingley's engagement," Olivia continued. "You see, they had had a misunderstanding and Lizzy and I decided to--."

"You decided!" Elizabeth cried, shaking her head in denial.

"We decided to go and give Mr. Bingley a piece of our minds."

"Dear me!" said Elise. "What happened?"

"I got lost, Mr. Darcy got injured, and Mr. Bingley actually came to my rescue, quite by accident," declared Elizabeth through her laughter.

"Strange--that is how my intended remembers it," Olivia murmured.

"Is that not what happened?" asked Elise.

"I prefer to remember that before the day was out, Mr. Bingley and Jane had been reunited," Olivia sniffed.

"How did Mr. Darcy get injured?" Elise asked.

"He walked into a tree while staring at Lizzy," Olivia said simply.

"Livy!" Elizabeth cried.

"It is true. I saw him...well, I practically saw him. One moment he was walking ahead of me; I looked away for a second, and when I looked back, he was on the ground calling out her name."

"Livy!" Elizabeth gasped as she colored. At precisely that moment the door opened and the men entered the room. Olivia and Elizabeth exchanged a glance, each hoping the men had not heard their topic of conversation. As the men came in, Edward sought a position from which he might observe Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. His curiosity about the pair had been piqued by Elizabeth's cryptic comment at the Gardiners' a week earlier and he was determined to learn the truth. After coffee was poured and the group exchanged small talk, the card table was pulled out and all the Crenshaw men and Mr. Douglass played at whist, while Elise asked Richard and Olivia about their plans for settling down. Elizabeth sat a little aloof from the trio, and Mr. Darcy came to sit beside her as Edward discreetly observed the pair.

"You do not play at cards tonight, Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth asked by way of an opening.

"I have not the mind for cards tonight, Miss Bennet," Mr. Darcy replied. He hesitated a moment. "I must apologize, Miss Bennet, for breaking my promise to call upon you this morning."

"Nay, sir, it is entirely my fault," Elizabeth replied in a low voice. "I am the one who prevented you. I must confess," she said sheepishly," I sat this morning in constant fear of your appearance."

"Would it have been so awful if I had come?" Mr. Darcy asked softly. Elizabeth blushed.

"I...I am afraid there has been a dreadful misunderstanding--."

"About the handkerchief, yes, Bingley mentioned it to me." Elizabeth blushed even more deeply. What had Jane written to Mr. Bingley? Elizabeth thought that she should try to explain what happened.

"Yes. When you were so kind as to return my grandmother's perfume vial--."

"Then I was correct in thinking it an heirloom?" Mr. Darcy asked.

"Yes," Elizabeth said softly. "It was left to me by Grandmother Bennet, whom I was named for. I had opened the parcel and was about to read your note when I was interrupted. I stuffed the handkerchief, along with the letter under the bedding. When Mama had my bed turned out last week, she found the handkerchief. I guess I forgot about it," Elizabeth lied. She was not ready to confess that she had slept for the past month with Mr. Darcy's handkerchief under her pillow, or that he had played a prominent role in every dream she had had since she left Kent. She stole a glance at Mr. Darcy, who looked worried.

"And the note? Your mother--." Elizabeth quickly reassured him that her mother had not found the note. "But you did not read it," he said in a whisper. Had Elizabeth found the courage to look into his eyes, the sadness in them would have broken her heart.

"I did read it, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth whispered back, her eyes lowered so that Mr. Darcy could only see her lashes resting upon her rosy cheeks. "And I have preserved it in a secure place." Mr. Darcy was silent for a minute as he repeated over and over in his head her last words. She had read his letter! What is more, she had deemed it worthy of saving, worthy of a second reading. He would only allow himself to draw one happy conclusion: he had been forgiven. Elizabeth had cared enough to hear him out, and when she had done, she had cared enough to respect, if not reciprocate, his feelings. Mr. Darcy was rendered mute by a rush of thoughts that momentarily overwhelmed his senses. Elizabeth watched him, wondering what was going through his head. She glanced across the room and realized that she and Mr. Darcy were being observed, not only by Olivia and Colonel Fitzwilliam, but also by Elise and Edward. Elizabeth squirmed under the scrutiny, startling Mr. Darcy out of his reverie, and he, too, became discomfited by the earnest gaze of four pairs of eyes.

Olivia decided to relieve the tension by opening the pianoforte and asking Elizabeth to play. Elizabeth, glad of the diversion, agreed with unaccustomed alacrity. Mr. Darcy sat spellbound as she performed a brief instrumental piece. When she had done, Mr. Darcy was caught off guard by the enthusiastic response of Mr. Douglass, whom had been fairly quiet all evening. Elizabeth asked Mr. Douglass to join her in a second number, and Mr. Darcy tried to suppress a pang of jealousy as Mr. Douglass took command of the keyboard and played a lively duet. His rich tenor matched perfectly with her less polished but lovely voice. When the song was over, Mr. Darcy thought that he had lost Elizabeth's company for the remainder of the evening. But to his surprise, Mr. Douglass escorted Elizabeth back to her seat by Mr. Darcy and retreated.

"Are you unwell, Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth asked. "You look upset," she said innocently. Mr. Darcy apologized and admitted to being deep in thought. "A parlor full of people enjoying an evening's entertainment is hardly a place to inspire deep thoughts, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said archly.

"Perhaps not," he replied, and broached an entirely new subject. "So are all men banished from your mother's presence while she is town?" Mr. Darcy tried to sound jocular and light, but knew that he was less than convincing.

"If it were up to me, yes. However, I seem to have little control over who comes to call upon my aunt and uncle," Elizabeth said, trying to match Mr. Darcy's tone.

"You managed to stop me easily enough," Mr. Darcy said a bit more harshly than he intended. Elizabeth reddened as she carefully responded.

"Yes. But I rarely have so persuasive an ambassador as Mr. Bingley at my disposal, nor can I credit many of my friends with being as solicitous and respectful of my wishes as you are, sir." Mr. Darcy seemed to be mollified, but Elizabeth hastily added, "It was not that I did not wish to see you, Mr. Darcy. I only wished to spare you the indignity of my mother's scrutiny."

"And did Mr. Fowler survive your mother's scrutiny?" Mr. Darcy asked before he could stop himself. Elizabeth looked at him in surprise.

"How did you...?"

"I met Fitzwilliam and Miss Crenshaw in the park. They told me that you and your sister were unable to join me there because Mr. Fowler had paid you a visit," Mr. Darcy said, as he eyes lowered to hide his shame. Elizabeth groaned inwardly, wishing that Mr. Darcy had not heard of Mr. Fowler's visit. This was the last thing they needed now! She sighed heavily and looked down.

"Mother took quite a liking to Mr. Fowler I am afraid," she said, a tiny smile forming on her lips. She looked deeply into Mr. Darcy's eyes so that there would be no further misunderstanding. "I was very glad she was there to entertain him." The clock struck the hour, and Elizabeth announced that she must leave.

"May I offer you a ride in my carriage?" Mr. Darcy asked, rising with her.

"My uncle has promised to send his own carriage for me, but I thank you." Elizabeth made her apologies to her hosts and bade everyone farewell. Mr. Darcy also took his leave of the Crenshaws and offered to escort Elizabeth to her uncle's carriage, which had pulled up outside the elegant townhouse. The couple stepped out into the cool night air.

"I suppose the Crenshaws will think us terribly rude. We barely spoke to anyone else this evening," Mr. Darcy said with a laugh.

"I very much doubt that they would be so severe upon us. The Crenshaws are dear friends to us both, according to what Colonel Fitzwilliam told me, and they know enough of our history to forgive our slight breech of etiquette," Elizabeth said as they made their way down the steps to the waiting carriage. The coachman stepped forward to open the door, but Mr. Darcy stayed him with a hand and he discretely retreated out of earshot.

"Miss Bennet, when will I see you again?" Elizabeth opened her mouth but had no ready answer. She did not yet know that she was to be invited to the Fitzwilliam's engagement dinner, but that was several days away yet, and Mr. Darcy was unwilling to wait that long to see her again.

"Will you not permit me to call on upon you in Gracechurch Street?"

"My mother...." Mr. Darcy shook his head. "She is likely to...." Mr. Darcy smiled and Elizabeth capitulated. "You may come, then, but do not say that you were not given fair warning." Elizabeth's eyes met Mr. Darcy's as he bent over hand before handing her into her carriage. No more words were spoken. The pair just stared at each other for a moment, then Mr. Darcy stepped back and the carriage pulled away.

When Mr. Darcy reached his home, he headed straight to his study, summoning Mr. Harris as he went. The footman scurried off in search of the butler. A few moments later, Mr. Harris knocked on the study's door, which Mr. Darcy had left slightly ajar.

"Good evening, sir. I trust your dinner engagement was a pleasant one?"

"Yes, Mr. Harris, quite," Mr. Darcy said abstractedly as he put his seal to a note he had just written. "Uh, did you attend to the matter I asked you to earlier?"

"Yes sir. May I pour you a brandy, sir?"

"No, Mr. Harris. I have had a splendid evening and I do not want to dull my memory of it." Mr. Darcy pushed the note toward the front of the desk. "Have a footman take this round to Mr. Bingley first thing in the morning."

"Very good, sir. Will there be anything else this evening, sir?"

"No, old man. I think I will just select a good book, and them I am for my bed." Mr. Darcy rose and patted Mr. Harris on the shoulder as he walked past him toward the wall of mahogany bookshelves. Mr. Harris bowed and disappeared. A few minutes later, Mr. Darcy followed him out of the room and sought his rest.

Chapter 17

Elizabeth arrived home to find her aunt and uncle in the parlor with her mother. Mrs. Bennet rose as she entered and immediately began to torment Elizabeth with descriptions of her evening with Mr. Fowler.

"Mr. Fowler was most disappointed that you were not here this evening. But I gave him my assurance that you would be home tomorrow when he promised to call again." Mrs. Bennet went on praising Mr. Fowler, describing the elegance of his attire, his wit and intelligence, and his taste in food, music, art, and theatre. Elizabeth looked at the Gardiners, who shrugged helplessly.

"Did you have a pleasant time at the Crenshaws', Lizzy?" Mr. Gardiner asked as soon as he found an opening. Before Elizabeth could say more than "yes," Mrs. Bennet assaulted her anew.

"I do not know why you spend so much time with the Crenshaws. They can do nothing for you, Lizzy."

"Mama! The Crenshaws are my friends, and the Gardiners' friends of many years!"

"Yes, yes, but we must think about the future, Lizzy. You are not getting any younger, you know. Even Charlotte Lucas found a husband, and she is five years older than you and very plain..." she prattled on. "Edward Crenshaw is younger than you, is he not?"

"Edward and I are the same age, and what does that have to do with--."

"Well, he is only a younger son, anyway. You can do much better."

"Mother! You do not really expect me to--."

"Oh!" Mrs. Bennet cried suddenly, "Yes, of course, there is Mr. Douglass. He is a bit more mature and very handsome. What is his income? No matter, I am sure that Mr. Fowler's income quite exceeds it. Lizzy, you would be a fool to settle for a lesser man, even if Mr. Douglass is so much more handsome. Mr. Fowler can hardly be called unattractive, mind you." Elizabeth glanced at her aunt and uncle once more. She started to speak, but her mother unceremoniously dismissed her to her bed, so that she would be in her best looks for Mr. Fowler in the morning. Elizabeth numbly ascended the stairs, and entered the bedroom where Jane was combing her hair.

"How was your evening with the Crenshaws?" she asked as Elizabeth flung herself on the bed.

"Did Mama really invite Mr. Fowler tomorrow?" she said, her eyes on the ceiling.

"Yes. He was quite upset when he found out that you were not going to be here. For a moment I thought he might leave, but Mama persuaded him to stay with the promise of being rewarded with your presence tomorrow."

"How thoughtful of her," Elizabeth said bitterly. She sat up and began to undo her dress. "I wish I had stayed in Hertfordshire. I would have never heard of Mr. Fowler."

"Oh, he is not so bad, Lizzy, once you get to know him. His manners are quite pleasing and he has excellent opinions on music, art, and--."

"So does Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said as she tossed her dress on an empty chair. "Why did I not just take your advice and go talk to him at Netherfield? I would never have met Mr. Fowler, mother would never have found Mr. Darcy's handkerchief...and I would not be faced with the prospect of entertaining two men tomorrow morning." Elizabeth smiled ironically. "I hope it does not become a habit."

"Lizzy?" Elizabeth sat on the bed beside her sister.

"Mr. Darcy also dined at the Crenshaws this evening. Livy and the Colonel arranged it somehow." Jane leaned closer as Elizabeth became lost in the memory.

"And?" Jane demanded.

"And it would have been perfect had it not been for three things. First and foremost, the evening ended all too soon," Elizabeth said with a sly smile. "Second, Mama spoiled everything by inviting Mr. Fowler to return tomorrow."

"And third?" Jane prodded, as she began to comb Elizabeth's hair.

"I am afraid that Mr. Darcy is rather jealous of his friend. He knew that Mr. Fowler had come this morning and he seemed very put out over it." Jane smiled impishly.

"Good! Maybe that is just the incentive he needs to declare himself!"

"Or just the incentive he needs to go running back to Derbyshire. Oh, Jane! This is all so maddening! This is a comedy of errors worthy of the Bard himself! How will it end?"

"Perhaps it is 'much ado about nothing'? " Jane replied. Elizabeth threw a pillow at her. "Lizzy, your course would appear to be simple: tomorrow make it perfectly clear to both Mr. Fowler and Mr. Darcy where your preference lies."

"And Mama?" Elizabeth asked, as she rose to blow out the candles on the vanity.

"You have me there," Jane conceded. "But once Mama knows your feelings...."

"When has she ever shown any indication of--."? Elizabeth sprang out of bed and relit the candle. She dug into her drawer in the tall bureau and drew out her writing materials.

"What are you doing, Lizzy?"

"Mama may understand nothing of my feelings, but I know who does," she responded, as she began to write a letter to her father.

Continued in Next Section