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Chapter 45

Posted on Tuesday, 13 November 2001, at 1:58 p.m.

Supper was a quiet affair that evening. Elizabeth was too busy trying to squelch her trepidation, Margaret and Bennet had eyes and words only for each other, William was as absent as ever, and their elders were too engrossed in their own conversation. Elizabeth found herself wishing they had not arrived at Pemberley one day before the ball. There had been no reason to, after all. They could have stayed in Wragby until the time was there, but no, her aunt had insisted they come.

William had spent the rest of the day with the men and she had settled for needlework, chatter, and tea. The topic of conversation was mainly the ball and the general news among their set, but that did not prove to be distraction enough for her. She was mulling over William's wanting her to sing. It was obviously his revenge for having her walk in on him playing the piano, for he knew how she hated singing. However, she had found herself in the kitchen searching for apples in order to sustain her voice. And during dinner she drank wine and spoke little. The pack of butterflies flying around in her stomach was still very much alive, but those she had no remedy for.

What if he was just jesting? She thought, eyeing the others' plates with some dread. Everyone seemed to be done eating.

"May we leave the ladies to themselves, gentlemen?" Her uncle asked, getting up.

Elizabeth bit her lip.

"And afterwards, we shall have music." Said Bennet joyously. "Meg promised me she would play the harp tonight."

"She is not the only one who made promises." Said William, eyeing her.

Elizabeth blushed and looked at him, whose eyebrows were raised in a challenge.

Ah, Mr. Darcy, so it was not jesting, after all.

"Indeed." She said with a gracious smile, her blue eyes taking him up.

She turned back to the table once they were gone. Mrs. Darcy looked at her curiously.

"What was that all about?"

She fidgeted in her seat. "Cousin William is making me sing tonight."

Mrs. Darcy's surprise was evident in her brown orbs. "Indeed! You, Beth, singing? What could he have possibly done to persuade you?"

Elizabeth coloured. You are doing too much of that.

"I...accidentally walked in while he was playing this afternoon. This is his retaliation."

Mrs. Darcy laughed. "Will thinks he fools everyone when it regards his playing, but I always leave my drawing room door open when he is at it so I can hear him. He is very proficient...He probably got his talent from Georgie."

"Or from you," countered Mrs. Fawley, "you are too modest, Lizzy."

"I am not modest. I am realistic...And still too lazy to practice. Something you should be doing regarding that voice of yours, Miss Beth."

Elizabeth looked down at her plate and then raised laughing eyes at her aunt. "Indeed. But you shall be the one to suffer from it as you will have to endure me singing like a crow."

"You sing beautifully, Beth. Do not be nonsensical." Margaret protested.

"Should I hear her, Aunt Lizzy?"

Mrs. Darcy laughingly shook her head. "Not a word. She and Jane are too kind for us to heed their compliments...And Kitty seems to be getting there, too."

"I am here, Lizzy." Mrs. Bingley said from her place at the table.

"Oh, I know, Jane, but you are too good to be mad at me."

"Why, you!" The older woman cried out. "You do not take me seriously, do you?"

"Of course I do. How else was I to say you were too kind and not be ironical about it? Had I been ironical in the slightest, you would have every right to say I do not take you seriously...Otherwise, I must proffer your kindness as it is. Absolutely true."

Both sisters shared a handshake and Mrs. Darcy turned to her namesake once again with her eyes glinting.

"Watch and learn, Beth."

She earned two very similar-looking glares for that.

She slowly walked over to the pianoforte feeling her limbs trembling in absolute nervousness. When she sat down at the instrument, she turned to her audience with a sweet smile.

"Cousin Darcy," she said, surprising most of them, including him, "would you turn the pages for me, please?"

He met her eyes and raised his eyebrows in an arch manner incredibly alike her own. "I would be delighted, madam."

He sat next to her and she immediately regretted asking him to join her. Having him so near would do nothing but increase her nervousness. She placed her fingers over the keys and started playing serenely and when the time came for her to sing, she smiled tentatively and then let her voice out. She felt William fidget by her side as she sang each word, belting out as perfectly as someone who had sung all of her life. To her ears, it sounded awful, but to the ones around her, especially William's, it was utter perfection.

He was so entranced by her, that he had to remind himself to turn the pages for her when needed. And to think she hated to sing! She claimed it would be torture, but if this was torture, then he was truly bent on suffering for the rest of his life. William tried not to laugh ruefully at his thoughts, thinking that they seemed definitely taken from one of those books his mother had and loved so much, where people were willing to die for love.

Somehow I understand them now. He thought as he looked sideways at Elizabeth. The cream coloured gown added a glow to her cheeks he had never seen and relished at the sight of her eyelashes shadowing her cheek as she closed her eyes for a slight moment. He had to tear his eyes from her in order to be less obvious, so engrossed he was in her presence. He breathed in and lavender clouded his senses.

This is impossible. He thought and moved in his seat for the millionth time in the course of the song.

She finished too soon and when applause met the end of her performance, she made a face at them, blushing prettily, and then turned to him. He felt himself falter when he saw the mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Well, Cousin," she said with a saccharine smile, "it is time you demonstrate your talents as well. I do not see why only women should exhibit their so-called accomplishments."

He grinned insolently at her and he swore he saw her fidget. "Is it because you spend so much time acquiring your accomplishments, you feel you need to be rewarded for them?"

"What reward is there to have?" She whispered. "A bunch of boring family members clapping their hands together is hardly something to slave ourselves over pianofortes, harps, violins, French books, needlework, and canvases for."

He laughed so hard the rest of the set were all brought to attention to them.

"Male attention, then, is the reason why you so dutifully improve yourselves?" He asked defiantly.

Her colour heightened itself even more (if that was possible) and he saw it. Am I playing with fire here?

"You are too presumptuous to think that we go through all this trouble because of you gentlemen." She said. "Take me, for example. All it would take for me to find a husband, were I desperate for one, would take announcing what I am to inherit."

"Or you can just jump into brooks." He mumbled.

"Pardon?" She asked.

He was saved the trouble of explaining himself when Bennet's voice rang through the room. "Are you going to play some more or what?"

William squirmed slightly in his seat, feeling his palms sweat in nervousness and then turned to her, an idea in his head.

"Do you know Beethoven's Fifth?"

She blinked at him and then smiled broadly. "By heart."

He ignored the perfume he felt linger when she leaned on the keys next to him. Without any warning they both started playing, not even agreeing which parts would be whose because there was no need to. William delighted in having her so near, in hearing her girlishly blow upward in an attempt to get a stray curl out of the way when it escaped its neat arrangement and then smile in pleasure at the more intense parts of that first movement. He thought he would die when he heard her breathless giggles as it took more and more out of them, making him smile wide in his effort to keep up with the tempo. He did not even notice the amused confusion their relations were thrown in by their performance, and when they both finished and fell backwards into the pianoforte's bench, Fawleys, Darcys, and Bingleys applauded amid smiles and questions.

"Do you know how I feel now?" She muttered through her smile.

"Yes, yes, it is quite foolish." He replied, blinking as he watched his parents in their impressed state. He suddenly cleared his throat in order to find courage and quietly asked. "Promise me the first two dances tomorrow night?"

She seemed slightly stunned and then smiled widely. "But of course."

Elizabeth collapsed into the sofa of the main sitting room, running her eyes through the empty seats and the closed pianoforte in the silence of the room. Everyone had retired, but she had managed to linger a while longer without having the need to tell anyone of that. She stretched her fingers out unconsciously, revelling in the recent memories of playing with William, side by side as they shared the bench at the pianoforte, drawn so close together she could sense that clean smell that emanated from him and which she had never quite noticed before. She ran her fingers over the arm of the sofa, feeling her eyelids grow heavy with sleep and yet not wanting to change out of her evening dress and undoing the braids that had been quite damaged by their intense playing.

You ought to go to sleep, otherwise people are going to find you here in the morning, smiling like a fool.

She was moving to get up when she felt someone behind her. She turned, half-hoping it was William, and was startled to find her aunt there.

"You have not retired yet, either." She said, smiling lazily at the older version of herself that stood there, contemplating the room like she had before.

"No, I heard you had not and wished to speak to you." Said Mrs. Darcy, smiling affably as she sat down at dark green velvet couch across from her.

"You do?" Elizabeth asked, curious to say the least.

"Yes." Her aunt replied, looking around herself once again. "I remember when I first dined here at Pemberley with my aunt and uncle Gardiner...Georgie had me play and sing for her and I had to slur through the difficult parts and make a show of not faltering as I sang. I was too distracted by your uncle..."

Elizabeth laughed.

"It was in this very room. We have hardly changed a thing in the house since we were married." Mrs. Darcy continued. "But now we will have to have the nursery redone."

"Already wishing for grandchildren, Aunt Lizzy?" She asked with a teasing smile.

Mrs. Darcy smiled like a little girl expecting a treat. "One can only hope."

Elizabeth eyed the harp sitting next to the pianoforte. "You will also have to make new room for harps. Ben will no doubt want to be indulged by Meg...And he has a knack for dragging us to do things for him."

"Only Ben?" Her aunt asked, eyebrows raised. "I sincerely do not know what you complain regarding your voice. You do not possess the makings of a great singer, Beth, but you sing with so much personality we are quite engaged by it."

"Oh, that...At least I learned that I should contain my curiosity. I intruded on Cousin William's playing and got what I deserved."

Mrs. Darcy settled herself into the sofa and leaned back, eyes set into Elizabeth's. "It is about Will that I wish to speak to you about."

"You wish to speak to me about Cousin William?" Elizabeth asked, quite confused and with her heart aflutter in nervousness.

Mrs. Darcy did not even bat an eyelash. "Is it true you are secretly engaged to my son?"

"Aunt Lizzy!" She cried out in surprise. "Whe- Who- How...?"

Mrs. Darcy seemed bent on it, however. "Listen, Elizabeth, I hate to be hard on you. You are one of my dearest nieces, but I have other plans for William. Plans, which he pretends to be unaware of."

Elizabeth blinked and croaked pathetically. "What?"

"You heard me. Ever since we have been reunited with the de Bourgh side of the family, William and Belle have been promised to each other in marriage. They were children when we made those promises, but they must be honoured."

Elizabeth frowned in confusion and mumbled, her brain managing to work. "Why not Kate?"

Mrs. Darcy faltered for a moment. "Kate was too wilful and independent as a child. It would render her miserable. Belle is of a sweet nature and she is the one to be inheriting Rosings...But that is beside the point. Are you engaged to him or not?"

Elizabeth was affronted by her aunt's unexpected haughtiness and pride. She seemed transformed into a person alien to her. Her shock was clouded by rage at the harsh tones she was being addressed in and she sat up in the sofa.

"Since when have you had such material inklings, Aunt Lizzy? I hardly recognize you this way...And why do you seem to disapprove of my being connected with William? You and my mother are sisters...Your son and I are equal in every respect."

"Do not dare to question me or my motives!" Mrs. Darcy said, raising her voice above the sounds for the passing servants outside the room. "Do not pretend that I do not know of the hand you had in introducing Henry to Fanny Pratt!"

So William told her everything. She thought, blushing in mortification.

"I was as much to blame as your sons...Or as Henry himself!" She protested. "And how does this have anything to do with William and I?"

"You have not yet answered my first question." Hissed her aunt. "Are you engaged to my son or not?"

"If you are so certain that he is betrothed to Belle, than why are you questioning me?" Elizabeth demanded.

"Are you or are you not?"

"I am not!"

Mrs. Darcy was satisfied, relieved even. "Well, do you promise me that you will not enter such state by any means?"

"I will not make any promise of the kind!" Elizabeth replied hotly.

Mrs. Darcy suddenly got up and stalked to the closed wooden doors of the sitting room.

"You are truly insolent, Miss Bingley. The only reason I am not inclined to throw you out of Pemberley this very minute is because you are the daughter of my dearest sister. Otherwise I have no other reason to have any regard for you."

Elizabeth's eyes brimmed with tears, hurt, confused, and in absolute disbelief. But she kept her head high for as long as her aunt remained in the room. As soon as the door was shut behind her, she fell into weeping as hard as she had ever done in her life.

Chapter 46

Posted on Tuesday, 20 November 2001, at 8:43 p.m.

Elizabeth tried very hard to smile when her mother greeted her the morning of the ball. She contemplated not coming down for breakfast, but her pride moved her to, and she pointedly ignored her aunt when she sat down on the dining table to eat. She examined her uncle closely and upon his amiable smile and cheerful tones, she concluded his wife had not told him of anything that had trespassed the previous night. She looked up from her plate and met William's eyes looking at her in concern.

"Are you unwell?"

She blinked. He will marry Annabelle. He knows better than to go against his parents' wishes...Maybe that is even why he concealed the whole story with Fanny from them. Why did he propose to me, then? Oh well, Beth, now you need not worry about that anymore! He certainly will not offer you anything now...

"Cousin Elizabeth, are you all right?" He asked again.

She offered him a shy smile and nodded, subsequently burying her gaze in her food.

I should leave, but do not know how. She thought as she drained her cup of morning tea. This is hopeless.

She looked up at her aunt and felt stabbed with jealousy when the older woman directed glinting eyes and smiles towards Margaret. She used to be her favourite niece before, treated to the most delicious scones and extra cups of tea. She recalled being given dolls and being taught to improve bonnets with lace and ribbon as a child and running for comfort when her mother was ill. If she had been told then that she would be this hurt by this woman's actions, Elizabeth would have dismissed it with laughter.

Crestfallen, she felt an ache at the pit of her stomach and the worst was that she could not confide in anyone. She did not want to ruin Margaret and Bennet's betrothal celebration and she knew how strongly Bennet felt about his mother.

This is not just hopeless. This is so terrible I cannot even eat.

As if she had spoken out loud, she heard her aunt's pleasant voice ring in her direction over the table.

"Beth, you are not eating."

Elizabeth looked up at her aunt blankly and the woman smiled at her.

"Come, dearest," Mrs. Darcy said, "none of us want you passing out at the ball."

Her eyes flashed. "I am not feeling well. Must be something I had last night."

Mrs. Darcy seemed taken aback by her tone and then smiled in understanding. "Do you wish to lie down?"

I wish to disappear.

"Yes, thank you, Aunt. Excuse me."

She raised herself from her table nearly in tears and exited the room. She heard steps following her and turned to see her mother.

"Beth!" Mrs. Bingley harshly whispered. "What is the matter with you?"

Elizabeth felt like whining as if she were five years old. I should be the one asking...What is the matter with everyone?

"I do not feel well, Mamma." She said, tears sliding down her cheeks unchecked. "I do not feel well."

Moved, Mrs. Bingley took her daughter into her arms and held her close, apparently shooing someone, who had followed her out of the breakfast room.

"There now" she whispered, "what are you crying about?"

Elizabeth found herself unable to answer by the force of her sobs, so she just shook her head.

"Do you want to lie down?"

"I want to go riding." She managed.

"Riding?" Mrs. Bingley asked. "But you are ill!"

"I will feel better if I get out of the house."

Unconvinced, Mrs. Bingley pulled away from her daughter and looked into her eyes sternly. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely." Elizabeth said, sniffling.

"Go then, but be back in time to dress up for tonight."

Elizabeth smiled at her mother forcefully and then flew out of the hallway and up to her chambers, wishing to get away from everything and everyone.

William watched Elizabeth go with concern and then turned to look at his mother for a second, puzzled by the way the younger woman had so blatantly been harsh to her and then so obviously distressed. In fact, Elizabeth had been distressed ever since walking into the breakfast room and only common decency had restrained him from going after her when she had bolted from her chair and left the room. His eyes met Mrs. Darcy's and the lady raised her eyebrows at her son, smiling slightly as she put down her cup of tea.

Something is amiss. He thought, as he stirred his own drink, his eyes never leaving his mother's steady gaze.

"Will, dearest, would you mind terribly having a word with your old mother after breakfast?"

He blinked, trying to make out the reason behind his mother's scintillating brown pupils and at the same time conjecture on the reason of her request. He shook his head. "No, not at all, Mother."

He looked up when his aunt returned to the room, shaking her head at her husband as she rejoined them at the table.

"She is unwell, but has chosen to go riding instead."

"And you let her!?" Mr. Bingley demanded, frowning.

"What was I to do? She practically ran off."

Mr. Bingley sighed and resumed eating before turning to Margaret and Bennet. "Do you know what might be wrong?"

The couple seemed just as confused as the rest of them, however.

"No, she did not tell me anything." Said Margaret softly. "Would you like me to go after her, Uncle?"

William turned to look at Bennet, who seemed pensive.

"She did not confide in me, either." The young man said. "Meg and myself can go look for her after breakfast, however."

William knew better, though. If she did not confide in any of them, then she wishes to be left alone. That much I know somehow.

"I think she wishes to be left alone." He voiced for the first time ever since Mrs. Bingley's return.

Bennet and Margaret both turned to look at him in surprise and then turned back to Mr. Bingley. The gentleman just nodded.

"Will is right. Leave her be. If she is not back in the house by lunch, you may go after her."

He peered into his mother's usual corner of the drawing room, where she was sitting behind her desk, finishing some correspondence. She looked at him from behind her spectacles and smiled.

"Come here and sit down, dearest." She said and then laughed. "I sound like an old grandmother."

"You will soon be one." William said archly.

Mrs. Darcy feigned offence. "How dare you talk to your own mother like that!?"

William sobered up and sat back into the easy chair he had taken. "You wished to speak to me?"

"Yes." She said, clearing her throat lightly. "Your father tells me you and Bennet wish to take up a profession and have townhouses of your own. Is this true?"

William sighed the memory of his talk with his father after he had told him of Bennet and Margaret's engagement.

"Yes, madam." He said with a smile. "I think it is time I fly away from the nest."

She sighed and took off her spectacles, playing with them in her fingers.

"I knew that day would come and told myself to be ready for it, but I guess we mothers never are."

He smiled at her reassuringly. "Mother, I...I do not wish to hurt you by any means, I just feel that...Well, all the others are doing fine by themselves and I wanted to...You get the picture."

"Yes, I do, dearest." Mrs. Darcy said and put down her spectacles. "But I have one thing to ask of you."

William raised his eyebrows. "And that is...?"

"That you do not ask your cousin Elizabeth to marry you."

Elizabeth sat at the margin of the pond, folding her arms against the bitter cold and rubbing her forearms with her gloved hands. The velvet jacket she had put on in order to go out was proving to be not enough shielding from the wind and she felt her teeth clattering as she spread her legs over the grass and stared into the green water below, looking for comfort.

William was promised to Annabelle. Studying her memories of the couple, she realized she had only seen camaraderie between the cousins, like the one she shared with Bennet and Henry. She imagined the torture it would be for her to sit at their wedding and then having to watch them living happily for the rest of their lives. If images such as these were horrible to Elizabeth the previous night, now she felt ill just by thinking of bringing them up. She buried her face on her knees, ignoring the discomfort that her corset brought her when sitting in such position, and remembering William's smile as he played with her the evening before. He seemed oblivious to everything, but had treated her as a friend and no more. Even if he made her blush, she only did so at her own account.

Why did she have to be so stupid as only to realize that he was the one man for her when he had already forgone any designs he might have had on her?

Elizabeth bit her lower lip and fought her tears until she was defeated.

"I beg your pardon, Mother?"

"You heard me, Fitzwilliam, I will not withstand it. You do love her, do you not?"

"Mother, I-" William knew better than to lie to his mother. "Yes, I do and I intend to marry her."

"You will not. I will not permit it and neither will your father, I am sure."

"Why not!?"

"She would never make a proper wife for you, dearest." Mrs. Darcy said lightly, if still firmly. "Besides, I would think you were aware of your being promised for Annabelle."

William nearly fell off his chair. "What!?!?"

"You heard me, Will, when I married your father, I was distancing himself from his own family."

"It was just Lady Catherine!"

"I know, but she was still family to him and then he was estranged from his own cousin and did not have a chance to heal the breach. Your marrying Annabelle is the least I can do."

"This is atrocious!" He barked. "Mother, I respect you and love you, but I cannot settle for this. This...The least you can do? Well, I tell you that by doing the least you can do, you will forfeit the only chance of happiness of your own son. I thought that was your priority in life and not some stupid family nonsense..." He finally stopped and sighed, spent and frustrated, and clearly miserable. His next sentence came out almost as a whine. "You told me I should only marry for love."

Mrs. Darcy's eyebrows were raised in innocence. "I thought you loved Belle."

William raked his fingers through his hair in exasperation. "I do love her, but Mother, Belle is a child."

"She is out already and is a very lovely young lady."

"She is sixteen years old and grew up attaching herself to my legs as I walked so she could 'get to places faster'." William quoted.

"Beth grew up chasing your brother like some common tomboy!"

"I thought you liked that about her..." William said, his eyes narrowed. "What are you going to do now? Forbid me to see her? I have already asked her to save the first two dances for me at the ball."

"I love her, dearest, but she has the wrong sort of temper." Mrs. Darcy finally said.

William watched, as his mother got up, still quite unable to grasp the reality of this conversation. His mother was still speaking, however.

"She is so stubborn, she refused to promise me to refuse you, should you ask her in marriage." She said with finality and then thought better of it. "You said the first two dances? Well, make the most of them."

With that Mrs. Darcy left, tightly shutting the library door behind her, and leaving her son confused, hurt, and stunned. By the time the information in his mother's last sentences registered, he was already out of the door, determined to find Elizabeth.

Elizabeth looked down at the handkerchief she was using to dry her tears and recognized the initials. She ran her fingers over the embroidering, perceiving that the hand that had done it was probably inexperienced. She threw the handkerchief on the grass as if it burned her.

Belle. She thought dejectedly.

William felt his heart beating loudly as he walked. It was all he could hear. His mother's words to him replayed themselves one by one, but the sound was drowned. He practically broke into a run when he reached the pond, knowing she would be at the farthest side of it, by the road that led deeper into the grounds if one rode into the estate from Lambton. He reached it in no time, muttering to himself that if he knew her any better, he was sure she was there.

Sure enough, there was Lily, the mare, grazing peacefully alongside the margin. His eyes caught a flash of white fabric and he sped down to it, calling out her name.

Why did she have to be so blind? She had once had him and then let him slip through her fingers...If only things were different and men like him were used to proposing twice to the same woman...

Annabelle is coming to the ball. Is that why they are holding off Bennet's wedding? So the four of them can be married together?

It made sense and Elizabeth felt lightheaded and dizzy. Her head hurt so bad, she was failing to breathe properly, until she heard the sounds of steps behind her. It was only moments before she lost consciousness that she heard her name being called out in alarm and strong arms lifting her from the ground.

The ball!

Elizabeth bolted up in bed and looked around herself in confusion. Why was she indoors and not by the pond? She saw her riding habit discarded on a hanger by the door and her gloves on the nightstand. Running a hand through her head, she found her hair unbound. Little by little, she remembered feeling ill and the sounds of sweet nothings being whispered in her ear as she was carried away. With a blush of mortification, she remembered the clean smell her nostrils had been drunk in whilst in such position. A clean smell mixed with tobacco and sweat she remembered from the pianoforte.

"You are awake!" She heard her mother say. "How are you feeling, dearest?"

"Confused." She said.

"You gave us a fright when William came in with you." Said Mrs. Bingley, sitting next to her on the bed and forcing her to lie back down. "I told you it was a bad idea to go riding."

She blinked and then remembered why she had felt ill in the first place. And to think she would have to see him with her tonight....

Well, I will not give Aunt Lizzy the satisfaction of seeing me moping for her son.

"What time is it, Mamma?"

"It is close to five."

"Call in Joan, please. It is time I begin to get ready for the ball."

"You are going to attend?" Mrs. Bingley squealed.

"I would not miss it for the world." She said with a smile to her mother and then leapt out of the bed as if she had not been indisposed at all.

Chapter 47

Posted on Friday, 23 November 2001, at 8:01 p.m.

Descending the staircase that led to the hallway where the guests were being greeted an hour after the time appointed to the ball, Elizabeth tried her best to hold her countenance when she spotted the Darcys and the Fawleys at the receiving line with the happy couple. Margaret looked lovely. The peach coloured gown she was wearing set off her red hair and green eyes, and the pink roses she had braided into her hair with a light green ribbon made her look like some Greek nymph who lived in the woods. The fact that she looked radiant greeting the guests with a beaming smile only added to the impression.

Elizabeth saw Mrs. Curwood embracing Mr. Darcy as she wrestled her way through greetings and then returned the lady's gesture when the older woman smiled at her. Elizabeth stepped forward, gracefully dropping a curtsy.

"Dearest, you look beautiful." Mrs. Curwood said, looking over Elizabeth's dress. "That gown is stunning."

Elizabeth turned slightly, thanking her uncle's sister whilst letting her have a better look at the silver fabric of her dress.

"Papa is very good to me, although I know I do not quite deserve it."

"Dearest, there is nothing more common than a man spoiling his only daughter rotten...Or his only sister." Mrs. Curwood confided with a smile. "Richard used to joke Fitzwilliam gave me a pianoforte a month."

Elizabeth laughed and Mrs. Curwood continued. "So I will only say that even if you do not feel like you deserve treats such as this new gown, make yourself feel like you do. Or at least look into the mirror and see what nonsense it would be not to want something like this."

They both giggled and Mrs. Curwood went on her merry way, stringing her husband away with her, who only had time to nod to Elizabeth in a greeting. She was standing there, not quite knowing what to do when she heard someone croak from behind her.

"Will you marry me?"

Elizabeth met the question with her eyes wide in surprise. She turned around and deftly slapped the gentleman's arm with her fan.

"Very funny."

"Cannot blame a chap for trying." Henry replied with a shrug. "Has anyone said you look absolutely stunning?"

"Your mother said I looked beautiful and that my dress was stunning"

"Bah! She knows nothing. Is your dance card full?"

"Do you not have anything better to do than to stand here and flirt with me? There are plenty of other beautiful ladies."

"Aye, but I want to make the chaps jealous."

"Nonsense. Run along and go use your charms on someone else. It won't work on your old..." She stopped for a moment, confused. "What are we, Harry?"

"We are not really cousins..." He said, head tilted to the side and then added with a grin. "But as children we were a couple of nuisances!"

We might have been cousins. She thought instantly.

"Then do not waste your time on old childhood friends." She said with a sad smile.

"All right." Said Henry with a glint in his blue eyes as he watched something at the door and then his eyes widened in something akin to fear. "I will go in."

"And do not throw olives at Louisa."

"Will not throw olives at Louisa." He replied with a mock salute, and walked off leaving Elizabeth shaking her head.

"Lord Welland, Lady Catherine Welland, Lady Annabelle Welland."

She turned back to the door and felt her heart stop.

She stood watching as Kate walked in first, wearing dark green velvet, followed by their father, and then by Annabelle. The younger girl looked like some sort of princess in dark blue, her eyes sparkling as she greeted the Fawleys. And then William stepped from behind a pillar and Elizabeth felt all air knocked out of her when she took him in. He was clad in black, which set off his dark hair and eyes nicely, but also served to increase his brooding look.

"Why is he scowling?" She whispered to herself when she saw the sour look on his face as he attempted to smile at the Duke and greet Kate cheerfully.

She watched as he greeted Annabelle affably and the girl teased him about something, which extracted a small smile from him.

"Beth!" She blinked when she saw the girl calling out her name and William suddenly stumbled forward towards her and then paused to glare at Annabelle, who seemed very satisfied with herself.

"Cousin Elizabeth." He said, bowing curtly.

Annabelle grabbed both her hands and kissed her cheeks as if they were the oldest of friends. Elizabeth felt somewhat disconcerted and tried her best to put a cheerful demeanour, if only as precaution if her aunt should be watching.

"Cousin Darcy. Belle."

"Oh!" Annabelle exclaimed. "Kate and I wished so dearly you would have been able to join us at our home, but we knew you would not have wished to be away from your family. I do hope you received our condolences."

Elizabeth thanked the young woman, focusing all of her attention on her lest she be distracted by William's presence. "Yes, an invitation like that would not have the best of timings, but I sincerely hope you will not give up on the idea. I would be delighted."

Would you, really? She thought with disgust.

"So be it then. As soon as possible, we will issue the invite. Oh! And Will could join us, of course, if he is not yet rendered busy by ultimate pleasant matters."

William glared at her and Elizabeth swallowed hard at the implications of the younger girl's comments, further enhanced by the knowing look Annabelle was shooting her.

"I have to get back to the receiving line." William said quietly. "I will see you when the first dance begins, Cousin Elizabeth."

She nodded slowly, watching him go with her heart heavy in her chest. She turned to look at Annabelle and saw that the girl was grinning at her.

"Is he not the best of men ever?" Belle asked eagerly, with what Elizabeth could assume was a love-struck expression.

Elizabeth nodded weakly for a second time that evening. "I can imagine he is."

William stood numbly in the receiving line, trying to shake off the image of Elizabeth's smile as she encountered and teased Henry. He had glared at his younger cousin, but instead of receiving the standard reaction, Henry had seemed incredibly smug and knowing, which had him even further discomfited. Just thinking of her in that gown, with her violet eyes and fair skin set out by the ethereal tones of the fabric made him breathless. She had pansies in her hair with a discreet white ribbon thinly showing itself among her braids and the dark hair seemed even darker when matching the dark thread of the rose pattern in the evening gown. She held a white silk shawl and wore white elegant gloves that reached past her elbows, showing fair skin that the dress's off-the shoulder sleeves did not cover. Bare alabaster shoulders and a single locket in her throat - his mother's words crept into his head and his jaw clenched itself. "Promise you will not ask your cousin Elizabeth to marry you." Then he remembered the obvious turmoil he saw in Elizabeth's eyes when she looked at Annabelle.

Does she honestly believe I would go along with my mother's schemes?

That she would be so affected by it made his heart pound so fast and so hard it hurt. If one thing his mother's speech had done was teach him to hope like he had never dared to hope before. And then he had found her with his handkerchief. She had fainted, for Heaven's sake! That must mean something.

Do not be so overconfident. Maybe she was only distressed because a rift was put between her and her dearest aunt.

He stared at her when saw her whisk by and sit in a chair by the side of the ballroom door. Even if she seemed tired and sad, he had never seen anything so beautiful as when she bent her head sideways in order to stretch out her neck, her hands moving a small fan back and forth incessantly, cooling herself from the heat of the room. Even from this distance he could see her ground her teeth in her lower lip and then let it go. He held his breath, trying not to feel suffocated when she closed her eyes and parted her lips, a slight smile playing on them as she fanned herself directly on her face. Stray curls left out of her twist of braids carelessly bounced about her cheeks, moving with the wind produced by the activity.

"I think it is time we go in, dearest." Said his mother, interrupting his reverie. His eyes met Mrs. Darcy's and he was surprised to see that the bright brown orbs he loved so much were dancing at him smugly in a knowing manner.

She is thinking of Belle, no doubt.

He nodded eagerly and set off in Elizabeth's direction instead.

"William!" He forced himself to stop when he heard Louisa Filmont's dreaded voice. "What, you are not going to offer me your arm?"

He met her blue eyes and nodded at her coldly. "Miss Filmont."

She pouted. "I liked it best when you used to call me by my given name."

"Your elder sister is married now."

"Oh, come. You call Bessie 'Cousin Elizabeth' and you are hardly friends with her."

"She is my cousin and my friend, not some acquaintance who claims to be closer to me than they are."

Louisa cringed and was soon disengaging herself off his arm with a mumbled excuse. He smiled when she turned sharply on her heel and puttered off towards James, but he could not help but feel sorry for him. He grinned when he found Elizabeth still in her chair, no longer fanning herself but chuckling silently as her eyes danced at him. He beamed as he approached her and took hold of her gloved hand in his, squeezing it slightly.

"I believe you owe me two dances." He said.

She ignored his comment. "Whatever did you say to dear Cousin Lou for her to unglue herself from you in such a manner?"

He laughed, surprised by her crudeness and shook his finger at her, amazed that she let him still retain her hand in his. "Cousin, you must not speak so of your own family."

She looked at him in disbelief, but blushed a very becoming shade of pink when she met his teasing eyes. "You know the story behind my cousin and I."

"Well, she was starting to badmouth you and I let her have it."

Not quite the truth, but given Louisa's behaviour, I had a right to foresee that she would start going on about her like at Netherfield.

She blushed some more and he smiled triumphantly. She seemed not be devoid of speech, however. "Thank you."

He laughed again. "You are welcome!"

She got up and he offered his arm to her, which she took with a nervous film covering her blue orbs. She seemed worried about something and he felt he owed it to her to set her in peace by smiling down into her upturned eyes. This is how they were supposed to be, he mused to himself. The feeling of her small hand at the crook of his arm was heavenly and he could smell her perfume even if she stood a head and half shorter than him. He walked through the threshold of the ballroom, seeing that there were no couples dancing yet and that the people were mostly gathered in groups, talking.

"Well, there you are!"

He turned upon his brother's voice and saw that the younger man's eyes were gazing at Elizabeth and not at him.

"Where were you when the guests were arriving?"

William saw Elizabeth falter and mumble. "I was late."

"That is hardly new." Bennet teased. "Let me look at you."

He felt her arm slip out of his slowly and then could not help but stare as she turned around. The light hit the silver gown and it acquired a shade of purple and then of light blue as she turned. It was much more than he had seen from the receiving line.

"For your information," she was saying to his brother, "I was actually helping your fiancée get ready."

Bennet's eyebrows shot upwards as he sought Margaret in the room. "You are to take credit for that?"

"Her hair only. The gown was her choice and the pearls are Aunt Kitty's."

He waved his hand at her dismissively, took one of hers in his and kissed it reverently. "Thank you so much, Beth."

She grinned insolently at him. "I did not do it for you, you daft buffoon."

William watched as his brother squeezed her hand so hard he swore he heard bones crush.

"Bennet!" He cried out.

But Elizabeth surprised him by stepping forcefully on Bennet's foot, and she did not even yelp while yanking the hand victim to such abuse out of his grasp at the same time. She looked down at her hand and glared at the younger man, not out of anger, but reproaching him for such display in that particular occasion.

William glared so hard at his younger brother, Bennet was taken aback, until delight touched his eyes and he bowed solemnly.

"Excuse me, Miss Bingley. I need to run for my life."

Confused, Elizabeth looked up at William.

"Are you all right?" His voice cracked. He was feeling somewhat foolish and angry at the same time, and most of all pathetic at thinking that Elizabeth could not defend herself from his reckless brother. Bennet was so infuriatingly childish he sometimes could hardly believe the man was getting married.

"Yes." She smiled, her eyes filled with something that left his knees waver beneath him weakly. "Thank you for ah..."

He laughed softly, losing himself in her violet orbs. "Putting him to run?"

"Exactly." She said and he did not break the gaze. She did.

Slightly dismayed, he looked up momentarily at the musicians and saw that they were conferring with his father. One look from Mr. Darcy was enough for him to take Elizabeth's hand again in his and pull her along to the dance floor.

"'Tis time we dance."

Chapter 48

Posted on Tuesday, 27 November 2001, at 12:55 p.m.

"I apologize." Elizabeth said slowly after pondering a while. "But we do that all the time, you know..."

"I beg your pardon?"

She let go of William's hand and went to take her place in the dance line. She was still rather confused as to the reason behind Bennet's behaviour. Even if she was as familiar with his hand-squeezing prank as he was with her standard response, they usually saved such physical bantering and playfulness to the privacy of dull afternoons spent with their family. Bennet never resorted to that kind of childish, brotherly teasing among the ton, least of all in balls.

As if I were not confused enough. She thought, regarding William's rather puzzled semblance. Why is he being so attentive to me while Belle is off with the other lads?

"The fingers-crushing, foot-stamping routine." She explained, shaking off her wondering and just settling for gratitude at being able to spend time with him. "Ben and I do that all the time...Although not usually in occasions such as this one."

"I am sorry I overreacted." He said, eliciting a startled look from her. He laughed. "Do not look so surprised! I know how you and Bennet behave around each other."

Does this mean you do not have any problems when it comes to our being as close as siblings?

"I rather expected you to disapprove, sir." She said with her eyebrows arched.

He looked down at his feet and smiled sheepishly. "I might have... In the past. But I learned that you have been a sort of replacement for Ben's lack of a younger sibling."

"Ah."

"And I suppose you think I am so dull, I did not once play with my brother in my childhood." He said, bringing an embarrassed blush to her cheeks.

"Quite the contrary." She said lightly. "I do remember Ben being more often than not subjected to...Hm...Poundings."

Regretful that she even if vaguely alluded to that afternoon at Netherfield, she bit her lip and waited for him to reply, hoping that his mind had not taken the same turn as hers.

"Well, yes, as I was saying...Ben is so insufferable he needed someone younger to fall for his pranks." This was said with a teasing grin she felt her throat constricted upon seeing.

"Ah. The eternally fooled naïve younger sister." She retorted archly.

"No, no, you were not fooled by any means. Otherwise he would not be limping just now." They laughed and he went on. "Anyway, this is how I view your relationship with him and I understand it."

"Is it not just like Belle and you?" She asked, brushing her skirt self-consciously and berating herself for asking such a stupid question.

You will end up hearing what you do not want to hear, girl.

She did not bear to look at him as he replied. "I suppose so, yes."

There was so much uncertainty in his voice she felt a lump on her throat form. She wanted to cry and plead and ask why this was happening, but obviously squelched even the urge to look up into his eyes. Even if she had ruined their time spent together tonight, she was still aware that this was all she was ever going to get from him. The dance began and they did not utter a word to each other. She was too busy trying not to shiver every time their hands touched, every time she caught him smiling at someone else. She felt envious of everyone he directed his words to, of every woman he touched as they traded partners momentarily. Speech was not something they attempted and she tried to control her flights of imagination and soaring heart when she would look at him to find him watching her silently.

And to think there is still one more dance.

He held out his hand and she slipped hers through it, feeling like weeping over how right that felt.

"You look distressed." He said quietly as they walked away from the other couples. "Do you wish to...?"

"Sit through this one, yes, but I'll never break my word to you, Cousin Darcy." She said with an attempt to smile up at him. "We shall dance the one after this."

He escorted her to a sofa in the end of the room and she sat down, tugging at her gloves without really noticing it.

"Do they bother you?" He asked as he offered her a glass of white wine.

"Thank you." She said, taking it, and then smiled, looking down at the white satin gloves. "Well, they limit my movements and are suffocating, even if it is winter."

"Think of what it must be like wearing a cravat." He said laughing.

Think of what it is like wearing a corset and not being able to breathe because you are so close. She thought and then blushed bright red, shocked she would even think something along those lines.

"You are flushed. Do you wish to go and get some fresh air?"

"Would it not be rather improper?" She asked, frowning. Does he want his mother even more infuriated?

He blinked. "Oh...Ah...Margaret could go with you, if Ben can ever bear to part with her."

"I suppose he could." She smiled sadly. "For a few moments, at least. Just mention to her that I wish to discuss him with her."

He laughed and set off, but not before she thanked him for his kindness in assisting her. The look in his eyes as he walked away was unreadable.

Elizabeth leaned against the brownstone railing of the balcony and looked down at Pemberley's serene grounds, covered by mist and snow. She did not feel cold. The heat of the rooms inside made the bitter chill a relief as she took it in. Margaret chose to remain inside even if fearing for her cousin's health at exposing herself. Elizabeth turned back with one last parting look at the garden below and smiled forcefully at her companion.

"What is the matter, Beth?" She asked, head-tilted sideways. "You are in awful low spirits."

As much as she hated it, Elizabeth decided to lie through her teeth. She just did not want to put what she was feeling in words. It would bring on tears and tears were not becoming in happy occasions.

"I am losing you." She said with a grim laugh. "And the pathetic aspect of it is that I am happy about it."

Margaret eyed her dubiously. "You do not seem happy."

"That is because I am feeling very guilty at my selfishness." She paused and then beamed at Margaret. "Ben is a wonderful lad."

"Lad?" Asked Margaret, smiling in a way Elizabeth had never seen her smile before.

Elizabeth sputtered with laughter. "I will never think of Ben as a man."

"Such a fine thing to say about my future husband." Margaret deadpanned.

"What did you have to drink?" Elizabeth blurted out and Margaret knew what she was talking about. She was not known to have a single sarcastic bone in her body.

She laughed. "I think it is Ben's influence."

"Yes!"

Both girls laughed for a long time and then turned away from the glass door that separated them from the balcony.

"Oh!" Margaret cried out. "They are playing a waltz next!"

Elizabeth felt her knees go weak. A waltz. That would mean being so close to him it hurt. Bennet approached them, all smiles and glinting brown eyes.

"Shall we, dearest?" He said to Margaret and then turned to Elizabeth. "Did that brother of mine leave you alone?"

"He did not leave me alone. He left me with your rosy lady-love."

Margaret glared at her. Bennet smiled radiantly. "There he is! Will!"

"Ben!" Elizabeth berated. "Do not be so loud!"

"Oh my God, you are turning into him." Bennet said, eyes rolling, and then turned to where his brother was. "Will, what have you done to her?"

William smiled like a schoolboy as he approached them. "Nothing. Shall we, Cousin?"

Elizabeth took his arm and walked away, but not before being rather puzzled with a comment uttered by Bennet, which did not come without a response from his fiancée.

"Look at them! 'Cousin this, Cousin that'! You'd never think they - Ow! Meg! Where did you learn how to do that!?"

"Well, I do have an elder brother, dearest."

Elizabeth walked away on William's arm, feeling quite lightheaded. She smiled up reassuringly at him when he turned to look at her and asked her if she was feeling any better.

"Yes, thank you. I felt quite bad at distressing Meg, though." She said, turning to look back at the other couple.

Not finding any answer to that, William just reassured her by patting her hand lightly as they walked. As they went past his mother, her words to him rung clear through his mind.

Make the most of it, she says...All right...

Elizabeth was seized by surprised when he touched the small of her back, ready to dance. She felt a shiver run through her body she had never felt before and attributed it to being nervous around him. Trembling, she put her hand on his shoulder and sighed shakily when the music began to play. She dared not look into his eyes.

They began to move to the music tentatively at first, as if they were learning to waltz for the first time. Soon they were among the other couples and Elizabeth's full skirts were floating as she whirled, her feet automatically following his lead like she was taught to do when she was sixteen. Sneaking a peek up at William, she saw that he was watching her intently and when their eyes met, he smiled at her, his eyes so intense she felt dizzy. She self-consciously averted her eyes, unaware that by doing so, she was dismaying her partner. She glued her gaze on the marble floor, not looking up lest she feel vulnerable in his presence.

"...Once it became all the rage."

He had said something. Elizabeth looked up at him. He raised his eyebrows at her.

"It is your turn to say something now, Cousin Elizabeth. I talked about the dance, and you ought to make some kind of remark on the size of Pemberley's ballroom, or the number of couples."

The intense glow in his eyes was gone. There was a sparkle there now. That amused glint she was acquainted with at Pemberley and that put her aunt's eyes into a replica of her uncle's face. Somehow it put her at ease. With one eyebrow shot up, she felt her lips tug into a lop-sided grin.

"Do you talk by rule while you are dancing, sir?"

"You know I rarely dance, madam," he said amusedly, "but yes, sometimes I do. One must speak a little, you know. It would look odd to be entirely silent for half an hour together, and for the advantage of some, conversation ought to be so arranged as that they may have the trouble of saying a little as possible...Instead of staring down at the floor all the time."

She felt her cheeks burn, but found it in herself not only to reply, but to relieve herself of something she had been holding on for too long. "Very well, sir, then I will take the advantage to express my gratitude to you."

He seemed slightly confused. "Gratitude?"

"Yes," she nodded sharply, "I know I am being selfish in this - he is your cousin, after all - but I must thank you for going after Harry and shoving some sense into that head of his."

He blinked at her. "I am sorry that this might have given you uneasiness. I knew that it would, so...ah...I did not know Henry could be trusted that little, however."

"Do not blame him," she said with a sad laugh, "Ben blurted it out to me the day after you were gone from Netherfield and then I could not help but ask Henry himself about it. I know it was my fault it all happened, so I was curious to know how things were settled and also...ah...why."

"Why?" His voice was fully carried with emotion. "El- I...Believe me when I say that even though he is my cousin and it was my family, I was only driven to do this by myself and so determinedly so because of you."

She gasped, blushing, then illogically felt the blood rush from her head. And at that moment the music stopped. William released her from his arms, even though it was quite the opposite she felt like urging him to do, and looked at her, searching her face.

"Me?" She breathed. "Why- what does that-"

"Will!!!"

She heard the voice and felt a chill run through her spine. Annabelle bounded up to them cheerfully, eyes and complexion glowing, followed by Kate and another gentleman. If she had looked up instead of down at her silver skirts, she would have seen the desperation in William's face as he turned to his second cousin with the urge to strangle her.

"Look who we found!" Annabelle was saying enthusiastically. "Remember Tilney? Who just bought the estate bordering ours and went to Eton with you?"

Elizabeth turned around, not wanting to hear a thing about whoever Tilney was, glancing momentarily at the Welland girls with all the misery in the world. She walked out of the ballroom feeling dizzy, spent, distraught, and with a heartbroken sigh, trudged up the staircase to her chambers, out of which she did not come out until the sun was up and the house was asleep.

Chapter 49

Posted on Monday, 3 December 2001, at 11:37 a.m.

The knob was turned slowly, the bolt gave away, and the door was opened without any hinging, much to Elizabeth's relief. After being confined for so long, she hoped she would have the solitude to think and to cope. Her inexperienced heart did not know that sometimes wounds such as these take a long time to heal, so she actually thought that after crying so much in the silence of her chambers, she would be stronger in the morning and that she would not feel so miserable, nor so lonely.

How could he do that? How can he give me hope when all is lost?

She felt her eyes brim with tears at the thought of William and Annabelle, even if somehow hope sometimes presented itself in her thoughts. He had said that he had done all that he had because of her. Why? Why would he do that if he was clearly going to marry someone else?

He must have done it out of pity...Or because Bennet asked him to. No one would go through that trouble to right a wrong made by someone like me.

No one had sought her out after she had run out of the ball and yet she had awoken changed out of her gown. Not William, not Margaret and Bennet, not even her parents had seemed to come look for her while she dampened her sheets and pillows with erratic sobbing. She had remained unnoticed and undisturbed in her refuge, replaying in her head all manner of memories concerning William, her conversation with her aunt, and her acquaintance with the Wellands.

The thought that she could vanish and have no one care whether or not she was fine played havoc with her stomach and she thought she would be ill for a moment. Feeling the soft carpet of the hallway silence her slippered steps as she walked towards the staircase, she paused for a moment, deciding where to go. Outside simply wouldn't do. There were too memories of William in the grounds of Pemberley and her head hurt too much to be accosted by them. She walked silently, hoping against hope that no one would find her there.

"Betsy!"

Elizabeth whirled around and met huge blue-green eyes staring up at her. She panicked, thinking that a raid of servant women would be after the child standing before her and so she approached little Georgiana Fitzwilliam with a finger to her lips.

"Hush, darling!" She said. "Why are you out of the nursery?"

Elizabeth grabbed the little girl's hand and dragged her off when she started saying loudly "Jenny is asleep and I sneaked out!"

"Shhh!" Elizabeth said frantically, leading the girl down the stairs in a mad rush.

"All right!" She finally whispered. "You can come with me, but you have to be very quiet, you hear? If your mamma finds us she will be very, very angry."

Georgiana nodded eagerly. "Where are we going?"

"To the library."

"I don't like it in there!" Georgiana protested. "It's dark and stuffy."

Elizabeth looked at the little girl beside her with half amusement, half dismay. She had hoped she would be able to read, unaware that Georgiana's company was already proving to be enough distraction to her.

"I loved my papa's library when I was little." Said Elizabeth.

"Cousin Benny says you are der- deran...deranged. That is why you read so much."

Elizabeth snorted loudly. "Benny said what?"

"That you are deranged. You and Cousin Will."

Elizabeth bit her lip at the mention of William.

"He also says that you are both thick-headed. But I dunno what that means." Georgiana said solemnly.

"It is 'I do not know', not I 'dunno', George." Elizabeth corrected lightly, feeling stupid for blushing in front of a child.

Elizabeth was going to open the library door when Georgiana started squirming next to her.

"Betsy..." She whined. "I don't want to go in there."

"We will get a book and go somewhere else, all right? Do you now wish me to read you a story, George?"

Georgiana giggled. "Jem and Cousin Will call me George. Mamma doesn't like it because she says it's a boy's name."

Jem? Elizabeth thought with a smirk, ignoring the quiver in her stomach at the sound of William's name again. And Harry was saying James did not have pet names.

"It is a boy's name. Listen," Elizabeth said in a conspirational whisper, "I will get this fairy tales book I know Uncle Darcy has in there. Do you like fairy tales?"

It was enough to excite Georgiana, but they were still standing in front of the library door when Jenny, Georgiana's nurse came running their way. The young woman looked obviously distressed.

"Miss Bingley! Thank Heavens! I woke up and didn' find Miss Georgiana on her crib and was certain that she had either run somewhere and I..."

"She is fine," Elizabeth said, smiling down at Georgiana, "we were going to read fairy tales together. But now you have to go to bed, George, otherwise your mama will be angry with Jenny and that would not be very fair to her, would it?"

Georgiana looked as though she was about to start throwing tantrums, so Jenny looked at Elizabeth for rescuing.

"Perhaps Jenny can let me read you a story, Georgie? Would you like that?" The little girl brightened and Elizabeth smiled at the nurse. "Is that all right?"

"Oh, that is fine, miss. As long as it is not an inconvenience to you..."

"No, no, it will be my pleasure. You can take Miss Georgiana to the nursery and I will soon follow."

Elizabeth watched Georgiana go with a smile playing on her lips as the little girl's bare feet puttered along to keep on with Jenny's steps.

Elizabeth walked into Pemberley's library, closing the door behind her with a soft thud as she let out a sigh of relief. She looked about herself and noticed that there was fire crackling on fresh wood in the fireplace and she wondered if her uncle was expected to use the room that morning. She quickly made her way to the shelf she knew the collection of children's stories were stashed away and started perusing them. When she could not find the volume she was looking for, she decided to reach for the wheeled ladder that was cast away further into the room.

"No...Ah, Cousin Elizabeth, let me..."

She whirled around as the words died on William's lips. All air and sense was knocked out of her and she stared blankly at him for a long time, as he put away the huge volume he had been reading. He was wearing a coat, but was devoid of a cravat, with his hair raked through and his spectacles neatly hanging over his nose. He looked tired, haggard, and shaken. Despite his dishevelment, Elizabeth felt hot and her throat dried instantly, her palms sweating. Part of her wanted to get out of the library, and another part felt completely compelled to stare at him. Regaining her faculties, she turned back around and climbed the ladder quickly, trying to control her trembling hands and pounding heart and shove his image to the farthest corner of her brain. But as she looked down and saw William still there, she felt her foot slip on the hem of her skirt and felt momentary panic seize her as her hands lost grip on the ladder. She quickly caught it back, however, trying to regain her composure as she placed her two feet on the step below easily enough.

"Elizabeth, come down that ladder at once!" William said hoarsely. He had come to stand by the ladder in a heartbeat.

"I am fine." She breathed. "There is no trouble. I have been doing this ever since I could walk."

"Then how come you almost broke your neck?" He asked exasperatedly. He was breathing hard and he was leaning against the shelf for support. "Come down from there!"

She did not reply. Instead she climbed up the rest of the ladder, gathered the book she wanted in her arms, and came back down swiftly. When she landed before him, he was glaring at her.

"What?" She demanded.

He sighed shakily and then sputtered. "First, you disappear from the ball, leaving the whole family frantically looking for you until your mother found you in your room. Now you almost fall down from a ladder. Have you no compassion for the people around you or are you truly as dense as you seem to be?"

Hurt, embarrassed, and stunned, Elizabeth managed to mumble some sort of incoherent reply, until her pride took hold of her senses and she glared back at him.

"And who are you to be speaking to me this way? You are not my father. You are a gentleman and I am a gentleman's daughter. So far we are equal."

"You do not quite understand it, do you?" He asked loudly, not caring if he awoke the whole house.

"I certainly do not! I have already said that I do not get on at all when it concerns you, sir! Your actions confuse me most of the time!"

"What- How- If you would just..."

And then, without even blinking, he did the worst thing he could have done, at least when regarding property.

He kissed her.

Chapter 50

Posted on Monday, 10 December 2001, at 8:28 p.m.

William was mildly stunned when he felt Elizabeth simply adjust herself to his hold on her when their lips met. Slowly, as if she were made to fit there, she took one small step forward and his hands slipped onto her waist almost as an afterthought. She shuddered, raising her hand slowly and placing it on his shoulder, not to push him away but to then slide it around his neck. Her other arm followed and soon enough she was completely in his arms, feeling his hands on her back as she timidly responded to his kiss, his lips over hers warm and soft. It was his turn to tremble then, and she felt overwhelmed by him, fogged by his smell, his taste, his touch, and everything that made the moment real. Never anything had gone by so quickly and at the same time felt so eternally slow in her life.

He pulled back from her with a shaky sigh and she echoed it by letting out all the air pent up within her with a shuddered breath. She looked up at him and lost herself in his brown eyes, which were veiled with surprise and full of questions. She didn't utter a word, nor she heard him say anything, either. Her own reaction to his bold actions had stunned her and she knew she was blushing because her cheeks were burning. She tried hiding behind the curls that fell loose in front of her eyes, but couldn't, because both of them still had their arms around each other and averting her eyes from his was not an option.

She felt like crying when something hit her.

Why did he do that? Why is he taking advantage of me like this, while it is clear he does not care for me anymore?

"Elizabeth..." He said softly and she felt her whole being tremble at the sound of his voice.

She quietly disengaged herself from him and he didn't do anything to stop her. His only reaction to it was blinking at her and before he could say anything else, she turned around and walked out of the library, feeling all the rage in the world possessing her. She met the empty hallway with her heart pounding and her limbs barely responding, but she did manage to run to the nursery. Elizabeth froze in place when she realized she was empty-handed.

Where is the book?

She felt dizzy and light headed with fear, guilt, and nervousness.

She slowly turned around and walked back to the library.

William was still standing there when she flung open the door. They stared at each other mutely, even if she felt her blood boiling. She walked in and scurried to get the book, which had been dropped at the floor next to his feet. She tremulously picked it up, but when she glanced at his eyes and saw the pain that marred them, she felt rooted to the floor.

"I am sorry." He said in a low voice. "I should not have done that."

"No, you should not." She replied coldly.

He flinched and she raised herself to full height, throwing her shoulders back and staring straight into his eyes, not caring if he was confused, hurt, or whatever. He knew that what they did was improper; especially in view that he did not have any more honourable intentions towards her.

"Elizabeth," and at this he looked sternly into her eyes, "I- "

"Why? Why did you do that?" She sputtered angrily. "What do you take me for, Cousin Darcy? Of all people in the world, you are the one person I would less expect this from and yet here I am! What if someone had seen us together?"

She knew she was about to start crying, so she dabbed at her eyes even before the tears began to fall.

"It is not fair!" She cried out, stamping her foot on the floor. "Not to you, not to Belle, and least of all me!"

"I- I said I was sorry." He said, frowning in confusion.

"And you know what? It is certainly not because I was about to be disgraced in front of our family!"

"But Elizabeth..."

"It is wrong, it is improper, it is unfair, and it hurts feelings! Is there anything you have to say for yourself?" She demanded.

He stared at her blankly for a moment, even though she could almost see the wheels turning in his head, and then he suddenly didn't seem so shy anymore.

"You liked it." He said slowly, a smile playing on his lips.

"What!?"

"You liked it." He repeated. "Why else would you be yelling at me for? And do not say 'what', Elizabeth, say 'pardon'."

She sputtered angrily. "I am yelling at you for taking advantage of me while it is clear you are about to marry someone else!"

"I am not about to marry anyone, unless she stops with this nonsense!" He said and she cringed, her eyes wide. "And unless she refuses me, which would mean breaking her word."

She stared at him as if he had gone mad, feeling her heart beat a hole through her chest.

"You are indeed too generous to trifle with me, Beth." He continued playfully, clearly enjoying her discomfort and then he suddenly sobered up and turned so serious, she felt paralysed with fear. "My affections and wishes remain the same as last April. If yours have changed, please say so at once. One word from you will silence me on the subject forever."

She stared at him and his eyes darted to the floor. He seemed to have run out of confidence.

"B- But..." She stammered, not sure of what was going on, much less of how she should proceed.

"'But' is certainly not in the category, however." He said laughing nervously, shifting his weight and rubbing his hands on the sides of his trousers. He bit his lip and mumbled "I am serious, Elizabeth."

"My feelings have changed." She whispered and she knew that he could hear for he raised his eyes to her slowly and it was her turn to laugh out of discomfort. "In fact they are now quite the opposite."

He uttered a sigh of relief, but she held up her hand.

"But this does not change the fact that you misused me previously!" She said.

"Yes, it does." He said, challenging her, grinning at her, and giving the impression that the uncomfortable last few minutes had been short ones indeed.

She shook her head. "How come?"

"Because now that I know that you at least have some regard for me, I can do it again."

"Do not even think of it!!!" She said, squeezing her eyes shut.

She heard him chuckle and when she did not feel his presence anywhere near her she opened her eyes. He was watching her intently and the feeling of his eyes on her made her feel vulnerable, exposed. She fidgeted with her hands, but raised an eyebrow at him and smiled at him archly. He laughed at her and took one step forward towards her, to which she responded by walking into his arms without even thinking of the consequences. She buried her nose in his waistcoat, feeling childish and silly and half-afraid that someone would walk in and find them in this position. His hands were warm and she shivered when one of them touched her neck and then found her hair.

William looked down at the alabaster skin on the back of Elizabeth's neck and found it with his fingers. He felt her shudder and he brought his hand forward, brushing the loose wisps of hair above. She sighed against his chest and then she brought her head up to face him. Her eyes were wide with nervousness under those thin eyebrows and he delighted in seeing them cloud up with an expectant film. She seemed to know what he was about to do, but did not protest like she had done before when he had teasingly suggested it. Her lips were parted and she was breathing hard and every breath she took was hitting his face. He inched closer to her and he saw her lick her lips before going a millimeter towards him, shyly but without hesitation. She held back then, for a moment, and reaching up her hand, swiped his spectacles from his face. He was surprised at her boldness, even if the nervousness was still in her eyes and in her shaking hands. He caught one of them with one of his and held it over his chest, feeling his pounding heart reverberate on her skin. She seemed incredulous.

And then he lightly brushed his lips to hers. Gently, as if she might break apart with such a caress. He held her there for a fleeting moment, before pulling away and opening his eyes to see her with her eyes closed and expecting more. He decided to wait and before he knew it, she was leaning in herself, kissing him so softly it made his insides quake with every second of it. He felt her hand at the back of his neck, under his shirt, and he it took it upon himself to escalate his response to one of absolute need. Her body melted itself against his once more, this time with so much abandon he could scarce believe it was real.

It was all the assurance he could ask for.

She pulled back from him and her eyes fluttered open to meet his. Neither really smiled, because they knew there was no need to. All was said with their eyes, and the vision of Elizabeth like that, with the taste of his mouth still probably on hers, was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life. He propped his chin on her head and waited silently.

Elizabeth hid away her face again, too overcome by what was going on to think properly.

"I spent the night in here, you know." He was saying. "I was so confused when you left the ball. Then I realised why and I could not believe that you could care for me."

"Oh, but I do." She found herself mumbling.

"It would be awful of you if you did not." He teased. "I would be the one accusing you of taking advantage of me."

She raised her eyes to his and smiled. "Then you admit that you did take advantage of me."

"It was the only bloody way I found to shut you up." He groaned and then smiled sheepishly regarding language.

"I am sorry, but I was so angry and frustrated." She said in response. "There you were, being all attentive and I thought - well, given the circumstances..."

"You thought that I was attached to Belle."

"Yes! Your mother seemed so set on it." She said softly and then squirmed in his arms. "What will she think?"

"She will think that she should have reconsidered all that nonsense when she sees how happy you have made me and will make me, I presume, in the future. I am indebted to her, however. That conversation taught me to hope. And I do not care what she or anyone else says, my love, you are the only woman in the world who can make me happy."

She raised her eyebrows at him, eyes dancing, and as a response she felt his arms tighten around her.

"Oh, really? What is that about hope again?" She asked archly.

"I still could not believe that you would have me, that's all."

"Who says I will?" She blurted out on purpose and he looked absolutely stricken. She laughed and his shoulders sagged in relief. Still laughing, she ran her fingers through the curls at the back of his head. "I thought that by being submitted to my company this last year, you would learn that I am not to be taken seriously at times."

He buried his face in her hair, sheepishly.

"Marry me?" Came the muffled question.

"I cannot hear you, dearest." She said lightly, silently begging to hear it one more time.

He lifted his face from her hair and tilted her head to him with a light finger under her chin. The look he gave her was enough guarantee that nothing would stop him from having her.

"Marry me."

She sighed shakily.

"Yes. Now shut me up once again, please, sir?"

"Gladly."

And he did just that.

"You must be joking, Will." Bennet said sarcastically. "No...This cannot be! Engaged to Beth!"

William picked up a throw pillow from his mother's favourite sofa in the back drawing room and threw it at his younger brother. He had met him there after finally leaving Elizabeth and the library. As the hours wore on, greater rose the chance that they might be caught in a compromising manner and they decided to go their separate ways until breakfast. He had found Margaret and Bennet at the back drawing room and promptly asked Margaret if he could speak privately to his brother. He earned a glare and now was paying for interrupting the couple. The throw pillow was hardly any reason for Bennet to drop his ironical feigned shock, however.

"Dear, dear brother, I would - I do congratulate you - but are you certain? Forgive the question, but are you certain she will make you happy?"

"Bennet!"

"You do realize that you will have to marry her now." Bennet amended and then started laughing.

"Seriously, Ben." William said while trying hard not to laugh himself. "Are you pleased?"

"Why?" Bennet snorted. "Because then you will go back and break it off with her if I am not? I love her, Will - though not as much as I do my Meg, thank God - so of course, I am pleased...I am very happy and I am sure Meg will be elated. They will be sisters!"

William grinned like an idiot and Bennet laughed.

"How long have you known?" Asked William, sobering up.

"That you fell for her? Since I caught you staring at her at that dinner at the Filmonts in Town last winter. She had just cut you up into tiny little pieces and fed you to the dogs, of course."

"And you did not say anything?!"

"I had problems of my own, Brother." Was Bennet's only reply.

Elizabeth came down for breakfast in a completely different state in which she had left the ball the previous evening. Everyone gave her a puzzled look when she smiled in a greeting and dropped into a seat next to William, momentarily beaming at him as discreetly as she could. Darcys, Fawleys, Curwoods, Fiztwilliams, and Bingleys all stared at her as if she had grown a second head.

She cleared her throat, scanning the faces staring at her at the table. "I apologise for disappearing like that the night before and distressing everyone. I felt suddenly ill and could not find anyone to be of assistance."

She faltered when she met Bennet's gaze across the table from her. Brown eyes were glinting mischievously at her and she turned her eyes sideways to William, who only shot her an uncanny grin. For a moment she panicked, feeling that Bennet was about to ask some embarrassing question she would not be able to answer without colouring, thus giving away the happenings of that morning. But Bennet kept his teasing silent, yet if very effective, and the only comment he uttered was that William would now be needing his nourishment. It sent the gentleman in question choking on his cup of tea, glaring at his younger brother, and blushing like a milkmaid all at the same time.

"Will, what is the matter with you?" His father asked from the end of the table. William was coughing so hard, he couldn't answer.

"Oh, nothing, Father." Said Bennet, blinking round innocent eyes at Mr. Darcy with the precision of a professional player. "William fell off a horse this morning in a rather compromising manner. I'm just telling him to eat so he stays healthy. But you know, since he is not the first one to fall off that particular horse, it was nothing new, sir."

Mr. Darcy frowned at his sons. "What horse was it?"

"Bachelor." Bennet deadpanned and Elizabeth was lucky she was not drinking anything otherwise she would suffer the same fate as her fiancé.

William just glared at his younger brother from over the rim of his teacup.

Amazingly enough, Mr. Darcy dropped the subject. He decided to leave his sons to be as absurd as they liked - he did not remember having any animal with that name in stable, much less hearing of people taking any falls lately. The last time William had fallen off a horse was when he was fifteen and that was because Bennet had made a face at him from behind Sir Timothy Filmont's back and had him laugh his way off the saddle.

Elizabeth was relieved to say the least and when her eyes met Margaret's over the table she knew that her cousin was on that at least something was going on. William had clearly told Bennet about the recent turn of events, but the latter had apparently let his own beloved in the dark regarding the subject. Elizabeth gave her best friend a bright smile, and proceeded to eat unheeded, save for when she felt a hand brush against her skirt from under the table. She lowered hers under the cloth and found warm fingers expecting hers, which she diligently intertwined with hers. She looked up and met Bennet's smile. Yet this one was not teasing at all. It was warm, tender, clearly delighted, and it broadened when their eyes met. She could only return the gesture, squeezing William's hand under the table at the same time.

Chapter 51

Posted on Monday, 17 December 2001, at 2:20 p.m.

William relished on his good fortune all day, but he could not help being frustrated when his father and uncle announced they would be out for the entire day on important business. His urge to go to his uncle was so great he spent the rest of the morning flustered, pacing around the house like a caged animal. Elizabeth had disappeared with Margaret right after breakfast, he had a good idea of what they were discussing and decided to let her be. His brother, Henry, James, John, and Richard were out riding and he was not in the mood to join them. So he went to the library and settled in the sofa where Elizabeth and him had retired to after finally coming to understanding. He grinned like a fool at the recent memory.

I miss her. He thought, feeling impish, lovesick, and happy all at the same time.

There was a knock on the door and he reclaimed the same book he had been reading when Elizabeth had barged in on him earlier that morning. Then he heard laughter. Her laughter, bursting out at him, and he could no longer help smiling when he realized she had sought him out once more.

"Do you find it more enlightening to read books up-side-down, Mr. Darcy?"

She stood there in the daylight, blue eyes bright with something he had not seen before, her hair in its usual mixture of disarray and fashion, dark curls framing her face. The mere sight of her made his heart pound with expectation and excitement. Her smile was contagious, teasing and loving, eyebrows arched perfectly. He willed his eyes to find the letters before him and indeed, they were inverted. He looked up at her with a sheepish grin.

"It is your fault I cannot concentrate." He said, reaching out for her.

"Oh, how utterly cruel of me." She said, allowing her hands to be kissed and then fearfully looked back at the closed door. "There are people about the house now, William."

"Did anyone see you come in?"

"I do not suppose so."

"Then they think I am about my business and am not to be disturbed. That is what I told Mother."

She blinked in mock innocence, attempting to turn around and leave. "If I am disturbing you, then..."

"Oh, no, don't you dare!" He growled, grasping her arm.

"Well, you said..." He pulled her down to the sofa with him and she shrieked. "Will!!!"

He stared at her as she fretted over her skirts, tugging at them to put them in order as she adjusted herself on the seat. She smoothed over her curls, and he reached out to finger one of those stray rebels that seemed to insist in hanging over her eyes.

"You are so beautiful." He muttered and their eyes locked as her cheeks glowed pink.

"William, why are you hiding here in the library?" She asked suddenly, frowning at him slightly.

"I am not hiding." She laughed at the tinge of indignant pride in his voice. "I am waiting to go talk to our parents. Our fathers are out on business..." And then he grinned in provocation. "You do realize that my father has shotguns laying about the house...And yours knows where they are!"

"My father would not be the only one to want to use them." She said sadly, looking sideways at the looming portrait of Mrs. Darcy that hung on the library wall.

He saw that he had distressed her, so he tried to put her at ease. He took both her hands in his and held them tight. "It was the discussion I had with Mother that made me see I had a chance, Elizabeth. I figured that if you had any objections to me, you would have acknowledged it to her openly and frankly."

He soon realized his mistake when she let out a bitter laugh. "Yes, you know enough of my frankness to believe me capable of that. After abusing you so abominably to your face, I could have no scruple to do so to all our relations."

"What did you not say of me, that I did not deserve?" He asked, grazing her cheek with the back of his hand. "Sure some of your accusations were based on wrong premises, but my behaviour towards you has always been unpardonable. I have been a stubborn, proud being all my life, and my parents did not quite disapprove of it, as they should have. I treated you horribly - patronized you constantly when regarding your nature, your free spirit - and then I found myself drawn to it and could not for the life of me admit to myself, out of sheer pride and stupidity, that I admired it - admired you. I should have known that you did not have any regard for me, saving hatred, and yet I was so sure you would accept me...Well, I learned from you that I was failing the people I cared about - my own brother and the woman I loved - and then I realized that I hardly respected others outside my circle, either. What would I have left to offer them, if I denied it to my own family?"

Her eyes were pooled with tears as she looked up at him, lips parted as she listened in silence. He continued on.

"You taught me a valuable lesson and properly humbled me, Elizabeth. I am surprised you are here sitting with me after how I came to you that day, without a doubt of my reception. You showed me how insufficient were my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased."

"Oh, let us not remember that." She said, shaking her head and sitting closer to him.

He looked at her expectantly and gently approached her, brushing the stray curls away as his hand caressed her cheek. She leaned into his hand and he realized that her eyes were brimmed with tears.

"What is wrong?"

"Nothing." She said. "All is right, all of a sudden."

He laughed. "And that is a bad thing?"

Despite his question, he could completely relate to the feeling. He could scarce believe the fact she was finally his, given their history over the past few months. All those days earlier in the year, in town and then at Netherfield, when he was still coping with the fact that he was indeed drawn to her hopelessly, if yet reluctantly. Then before Linton, when he knew that the only thing in the world that made sense to him was to ask her to be his, and afterwards when she refused him, confining him into a pit of darkness he never thought he would escape. It had been a world so completely different from this present one that it was scary how contrasting it was.

Her answer came through teary laughter and he watched as she retrieved a handkerchief from her sleeve: a very familiar one. He recalled the intense flutter of hope the sight of that very object lying next to her at the pond margin that day had elicited in him. When he had carried her back to the house, he had hidden it in the sleeve of her dress and apparently, she had had it cleaned for her own use. He saw her look at the piece of linen in her hands before turning a bright shade of red. She held it out to him limply.

"I believe this belongs to you, sir." She said, sniffing.

"Keep it, dearest." He said softly.

She fingered the embroidering, biting her lower lip and running her fingers through each of his initials slowly. "Who made this for you?"

"Anne embroidered it for me." He was thrilled that she would be so jealous. "You need not feel threatened by my ten-year-old baby cousin."

"Who said I was jealous?" She said in a pathetic attempt to sound arch and indifferent that had him laughing at her.

Neither said a word more, at least not until he leaned forward to kiss her. He opened his eyes seconds before his lips touched hers and he paused to regard her as she sat still, her face turned upwards expectantly, lips parted and breath coming out hard, waiting silently for what was already in her mind.

"I love you." He heard her whisper suddenly and the way she said it took him by total surprise.

He closed the gap between them and kissed her with so much fervour, she gasped in surprise against his lips. She tasted sweet and felt soft, until he slowed down and saw how strong she could be, feeling her hand on his cheek and her fingers in his hair as she kissed him back. She pulled away, visibly stunned. Her eyes were darkened and wide open, and he kissed her temple, smiling to himself. She settled back on the sofa and taking his hands in hers, began playing with his fingers.

"When did you fall in love with me?" She asked after a while.

He looked down at her and saw her eyes were glinting playfully at him, teasing him again, and he delighted in having her all to himself, to be teased and to tease back.

"I cannot place the exact words, or the look, that laid the foundation...." He said, fully acknowledging that he was stalling and upon being shoved lightly in reproach, he grinned. "Something struck me for the first time at Marianne's engagement celebration. I looked over at you and caught you smiling at James in this insufferably lovely manner...The night of the Filmont's dinner party, when you ripped me to shreds, I knew I was strongly drawn to you. I finally accepted the fact that I loved you at Netherfield, when I saw you playing with Jonah and David after being drenched in the brook...But I knew there would never be another woman for me when I walked out of Linton manor after you so rightly refused me. Satisfied, madam?"

She laid her head on his chest and nodded, clearly overwhelmed. He put his arms around her, amazed at how she seemed made to fit there, feeling so soft and light, and yet every inch present.

"When did you realise you loved me?" He asked, feeling rather pathetic after he said it.

He could feel her grinning against his waistcoat. She raised her face to him.

"Well, it came on so gradually, I can barely tell. But I believe it dates from when I saw you this summer here at glorious, beautiful Pemberley."

William feigned shock.

"You little...! So you are marrying me because of the estate!?"

William demanded quite a lot of convincing from her, as to believe that Pemberley was not the sole reason of her accepting him, and Elizabeth was not reluctant at all to oblige.

When their fathers resurfaced after an afternoon of dealing with business, it was time to eat, and as they walked to the dining room, Elizabeth was as weary as her fiancé. After dinner that evening, she felt nervous to the point of being ill. She had barely eaten and she duly noticed that neither had William. So when Mrs. Darcy suggested they all retire to the sitting room, she felt her heart pounding and squelched her urge to pace by sitting down and furiously employing herself in needlework, the image of William whispering something in her father's ear as they left the room a constant in her mind.

What if her father found some stupid reason to refuse his consent? What if Mrs. Darcy had warned him off and told him to? Elizabeth looked up at her aunt and found the older woman scrutinizing her, a sight that made her jam her needle in her forefinger. She yelped loudly, looking at the blood that was staining the screen.

"Beth! Are you all right, dearest?" Her mother asked urgently as she stuck her finger in her mouth.

"I am fine, Mama. Just pricked myself."

"Is something the matter?"

"Ah...No."

She looked up at her aunt and saw that the mistress of Pemberley had turned to reading, her expression unreadable.

William rubbed his sweaty palms against the side of his trousers nervously when he shut the study door behind him. He looked at his father's desk and then at the two expectant men who were looking at him. As he had found no opportunity to seek his father alone before addressing his uncle, he would have to speak to them both at the same time and God only knew what would come out of it.

"Please sit down, both of you." He said shakily and received an odd glance from his father as he sought a chair for himself.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. What does one say? Uncle Bingley, I'm desperately in love with your only daughter and want to marry her as soon as I can?

"Father, Uncle Bingley, I ah...I wish to...I am here to ask..."

"Out with it, lad!" Cried Mr. Darcy, who was frowning in confusion.

"I want to marry Beth." He blurted out and then sighed in frustration. He had sounded like a child who had a craving for sweets and was demanding it out of his nurse.

"My daughter? My Beth?" Mr. Bingley asked, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"Yes, Uncle Bingley. I am asking you for your daughter's hand in marriage."

William's blood ran cold. He shot up from his seat and began pacing. He supposed that going through this in his own house was an advantage, wondering what men who spoke to their beloved's fathers in the gentlemen's studies felt like - no doubt a lot worse than he did.

Mr. Darcy seemed as surprised as his brother-in-law and considered his elder son for a moment before speaking. "Have you asked her?"

"Yes." He and then added with murmur. "Twice."

"And she accepted you?" Mr. Bingley inquired, looking down at the carpet for a while as if uncertain of something.

"Yes. I would not dare to address you without talking to her first. Even if you gave me your blessing, I do not believe I would live to be wed." He laughed nervously. "Father?" He asked slowly, regarding the older version of himself who had ground his chin in his hand and was watching his brother-in-law silently. "What think you of this?"

"Do you love her, son?"

William closed his eyes for a second before replying. "More than life."

Mr. Darcy eyed him amusedly and chuckled for a bit, but then frowned when he saw that Bingley was still thinking. Father and son both set their eyes on the fair-haired man before them and waited silently. When the gentleman did raise his eyes, it was to William.

"Would you ask her to come in here and then wait outside while I speak to her? I will give you my consent, son, but I still wish to speak with her."

In his haste to comply with his uncle's wishes, William missed the look of utter surprise that set itself in his father's features, but did overhear the gentlemen's discourse as he was leaving the room.

"Christ, Bingley! You sound like Mr. Bennet!"

"Do you blame me? Beth is my only daughter - the only one I can favour like Mr. Bennet did Lizzy."

"I do not blame you at all, old man, but believe me when I say I know exactly what the lad feels like!"

Elizabeth's heart thumped loudly in her chest when she heard the sitting room door open. She looked up expectantly and caught William's eyes as he walked into the room. He looked puzzled and spent, and she could not help but fear that something had gone wrong. He walked steadily towards her, offering a shy greeting to the other ladies, and then paused to look down at her work. She frowned, looking at the even stitches and the stain of blood on the excesses of the net, and when she felt him bend towards her, she caught his familiar smell, and was discomfited as he spoke.

"Your father wishes to see you." He whispered as he pretended to examine her work.

She felt like crying. What is this? Why does this have to be so hard?

She got up, her legs obeying her somehow, and she trailed out of the room much to everyone's confusion. William followed her outside and the minute they were out the door, he caught her in his arms, releasing a sigh into her hair as he sunk his nose into it. As much as she enjoyed being in his arms, Elizabeth started to fret.

"I have to go speak to my father if you want this over, dearest." She said slowly as she let her hands slide around his neck.

He looked down at her and kissed her forehead before letting her go.

"Go then." He croaked, and she walked towards the room as fast as her legs could take her.

She turned the knob with dread and walked into the room to find her father there, sitting placidly on one of the chairs, and when she approached him she saw that he was looking wistful and sad. She offered him a faint smile and an inquisitive look that made the gentleman sigh and sink back into his chair. His blue eyes then took a turn into sharpness as he eyed her and she gripped the edge of her uncle's desk.

"Are you out of your senses, to be accepting your cousin? I gave him my consent, because it is not easy to deny a Darcy anything, but I want to know what you are thinking of, Beth."

Elizabeth was shocked to say the least. She had never heard her father speak that way before in her life.

"This was a conscientious choice I made, Papa." She managed to answer.

"Elizabeth," he said sternly, "granted he is family and is wealthy and will inherit Pemberley - which I know you love - and Meg and Ben will be your sister and brother, but will you be happy? I will not withstand it if you could not respect your partner in life, nor he respect you in return. I know you would be miserable and given the way you behave around each other, I do not think that it would be satisfactory...As much I respect him, Beth - he is Darcy and Lizzy's son, after all."

"But I do. I respect him a great deal and we have resolved our...Past differences. I care about him." She took at deep breath and looked into her father's eyes with her own brimmed with tears. "I love him."

Charles Bingley eyed his only child with tenderness. Elizabeth was aware of just how much she meant to him and how painful this must be, yet she always knew this day would come and there was nothing either of them could do about it. He would have to part with her and she would have to relinquish her position as the little princess in his kingdom (as he often joked she was) to follow her own path, with another man and yet on her own. She smiled up at him and he walked over to her and kissed her on the head.

"You know how I hate the idea of parting with you, my dear, but I could not ask for better hands to place you in." He said and she placed his arms around him, feeling very small and yet very safe. "I could not ask for a better man. Darcy's son!"

She sniffed and rubbed her nose with her hands, smiling up at him. "Aye, now you'll be his uncle and his father."

"Now that is too much responsibility!"

She laughed through her tears, bit down her lip, and thought of preparing herself for what her Aunt Lizzy would have to say.

Chapter 52

Posted on Sunday, 23 December 2001, at 6:07 p.m.

Mr. Bingley soon admitted Mr. Darcy back into the study, but when he saw William lurking about the door nervously, he could not help but resort to humour. As soon as his nephew turned to him, an expectant look glazing over his eyes, Bingley shot him a mock-apologetic look and slammed the door on the young man's face. Perplexed with the scene, Elizabeth stared at her father wide-eyed with shock.

"Papa!" She protested.

Mr. Bingley ignored her, turning to his brother-in-law. "These two are bent on having each other, Darcy. It seems as though we are forever meant to become in-laws."

Mr. Darcy turned to her, grinning, and after shaking his head at Bingley, opened the door. His son was still standing there, as confused as one could be, but this condition did not last long. Upon seeing him standing there, looking so young next to his father and uncle in his puzzlement and dread, and so adorable as he shifted his weight nervously yet with his hands in such hard fists, his knuckles were white Elizabeth felt her heart was going to burst. The two men nodded at her, grinning like lunatics, and she flew into William's arms in a cloud of white silk afforded by her evening dress. William caught her still a bit bewildered, his arms automatically going around her waist.

"I understand I am to gain another daughter." Said Mr. Darcy. "Congratulations are in order, I suppose."

His son smiled relieved over the dark head nestled on his chest, and Darcy could not help but clap his best friend soundly on the shoulder whilst looking at the man's daughter with open regard.

"And you could not have chosen better, son." He said, smiling proudly.

Elizabeth disengaged herself from William and taking his hand, walked further into the room. "We will accept the congratulations in due order, but there is the matter of Aunt Lizzy."

She watched as William's features darkened somewhat as he nodded in agreement. It was Mr. Darcy's turn to be confused.

"What do you mean, my dear?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "Let us go to the sitting room and tell the rest. I am marrying him anyway, Uncle Darcy. I swore I would."

Mr. Darcy frowned and they left the library, Elizabeth squeezing William's hand as they walked the length to the sitting room. They were admitted into it under the curious glances of others, until Margaret caught the sight of intertwined fingers and leapt from the settee she was sharing with her own Darcy brother, nearly knocking the gentleman down in the process.

"Oh, Beth!" She gushed happily, not minding Bennet's bemused look, and flung her arms about her cousin and soon-to-be sister in a shower of happy tears.

"What is going on, dearest?" Asked Mrs. Bingley.

"Well done, Will!" Said Henry, getting up to offer his congratulations.

With such different reactions, Elizabeth could not help but feel dread envelope her stomach as she held her breath for the one reaction she was really waiting for. She looked at Mrs. Darcy rather defiantly and the older woman was looking at her stonily, her face unreadable. Definitely something she had learned from her husband and which her son had inherited. Everyone turned to her, both William and Elizabeth with so much apprehension, Elizabeth would later wonder at how neither of them ended up with bruised or broken fingers from the tight grip their hands were in.

She watched as Elizabeth Darcy took a deep breath and leaned back into her seat with a smile. "Finally!" She said and exhaled a sigh. "I thought I would have to wait until morning!"

What!? Elizabeth asked herself, eyes wide with utter shock.

William was no different. It was clear he thought his mother a candidate for Bedlam. Before he could even open his mouth to speak, however, the mistress of Pemberley grinned at them like a smug cat, bright brown eyes dancing at their general direction.

"A few days before your uncle proposed to me, Beth, I had the honour of being called on by Lady Catherine de Bourgh." She said and despite everyone's bewilderment, she went on, knowing she had a point to put across. "She had no reservations in asking me if the rumours that I was engaged to her nephew were true, and neither she had them when outright requesting me to promise not to enter such state if the opportunity arose. She told me that Fitzwilliam Darcy was engaged to a Miss Anne de Bourgh and that I was an insolent girl in whom she was thoroughly ashamed." She turned to her husband, tears showing themselves in her eyes as she smiled at him across the room. "I simply could not bear it anymore when I saw that these two stubborn mules - particularly your son, sir - were in misery. It had worked so well the first time, I supposed it wouldn't hurt to give it another try - but it did hurt. I had a horrid sense of timing."

Elizabeth bit her lip as the light dawned on her. What a way to help, Aunt Lizzy!

Mrs. Darcy got up from her seat and paused in front of her eldest son and his own Elizabeth, eyes filled with so much love, her niece could hardly believe she had come close to hating that very same woman. She was relieved to see that her old Aunt Lizzy was back.

"I apologise, my dears, I never meant any harm but I could clearly see you were in pain and had I realized what it would lead to, I would have never..." Her words trailed off. She seemed frustrated somehow, embarrassed, and Elizabeth tilted her head sideways, trying to figure out what was going through her aunt's mind.

"But it did work, Mother." William said suddenly, blinking. "After you spoke to me that morning, I could think of nothing else but marrying Beth! What you said led me to believe that her feelings had changed! And they had!"
If one thought Mr. Darcy was astonished at this as was the rest of the room, he would be wrong. The older man was laughing hard and clapping his hands, earning a smile from his wife.

"Bravo, Lady Elizabeth!" He cried out, proud that his son's feelings were identical to his at the time his aunt had swept into his townhouse like a whirlwind one fateful afternoon.

"Mamma!" Elizabeth cried out suddenly.

Everyone turned to look at Mrs. Bingley and saw that the woman was in tears, smiling with her beautiful eyes, as she leaned against her husband for support. Elizabeth rushed into her mother's arms and everyone erupted into congratulations at once, filling the room with laughter, tears, and a mist so thick with love, Elizabeth dared to imagine herself cutting it with a knife.

Elizabeth smiled at her aunt and mother as they both sat down in the music room of Pemberley in her and Margaret's company the next morning. It felt wonderful to be so reconciled, but Mrs. Darcy seemed to want to speak further with her future daughter-in-laws after the previous night's events, and required her sister's presence with them. The mistress of Pemberley declared that apologies had given place to rejoicing, and explanations were still due; Elizabeth could not help but be curious.

Mrs. Darcy sat down in an armchair, saying something about resting her old bones, much to her sister's amusement, and then folded her hands on her lap, eyes tinkling with merriment as she took in her companions.

"I am truly lucky. I have the best sister and will have the best daughters." She said and then turned serious. "But I must admit that our talk, Beth, was not the only thing in common between your courtship and the one between me and your uncle."

Elizabeth and Margaret merely raised their eyebrows.

"There is the fact that you and Will both resemble and are named after us. That is enough to have people chuckling, but I cannot help but be overwhelmed that you repeated our actions so precisely. I felt like a fool when I first noticed what was going on and then decided to let nature take its course, because you both needed the lesson. Of course, parents err, and I did it twice. I should have talked with you both and not tried to play games."

"You are forgiven, Aunt Lizzy." Elizabeth said, reaching out her hand to shake her aunt's. "It worked!"

"But I could have prevented others from being hurt as well." Said Mrs. Darcy with a glance towards Margaret.
Both girls frowned and who unbeknownst to them were their elder counterparts shared a look between them before Mrs. Darcy turned once again to the young ladies.

"Would it shock you if I told you that Fitzwilliam attempted to separate Jane and Charles when they first became attached and it was not until after he proposed to me for the first time and I had thrown it all on his face whilst refusing him, that he admitted he was wrong and fixed it? He wrote me a very long letter, too."
Elizabeth and Margaret exchanged a dumbfounded look and Mrs. Darcy sighed, while Mrs. Bingley laughed softly, shaking her head.

"I thought so. But there's more." Mrs. Darcy said and promptly rung for refreshments.

William reined the horse by the pond margin, taking in the smell of the woods surrounding them, humid because of the body of water it surrounded. He looked down at a particular patch of grass with a smile on his face. This was Elizabeth's favourite spot in all of the estate and as a consequence, it had become his. The grove was breezy in the summer and because of a particular large tree, it somehow managed not to get swarmed with snow when winter came. Sure the wind was biting, but it was nothing a woollen cloak could not handle, and he knew Elizabeth had enough of those.

He heard the sound of horse hooves behind him and turned around expectantly.

"Sorry to disappoint you." Laughed Bennet when his brother's face fell. "But I wonder what sorts of things you were thinking of, coming here to wait for Beth. She is not coming, is she?"

"I don't know." He replied, taking a deep breath of the cold air. "Where is Meg?"

"At the house. She was giggling and excited, so I guess your Beth is with her."

William nodded and then stared at the shimmering jewel green waters before him.

"You are really odd, you know that?" Bennet asked, climbing down from his horse to join him. "The girl is living under the same roof as you right now and you come here to smoulder a stupid lake."

"It is not a stupid lake." William said defensively and his brother burst out laughing.

After the whole tale of antagonism and love between country-girl Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley with the lady's elder sister and the gentleman's best friend playing steady supporting roles was spun in the music room, punctuated with incredulous laughter and happy tears, Mrs. Darcy declared that life was indeed too good and decided 'they get down to business'.

"I suppose a double wedding is in order." She said.
Elizabeth, still entirely amused, laughed. "It is only fitting." And then smiled teasingly at her aunt. "Ben told me that you were stalling setting a date for their wedding because you wished for a double one."

Mrs. Darcy's eyebrows shot up. "I was! I knew that if I played my cards right, you both would have been engaged by now!"

"Then I honestly do not know what you were apologizing for earlier. Your scheme worked perfectly fine." Elizabeth said. "These have been the oddest days in my life."

"The ball was part of the scheme as well." Mrs. Darcy admitted sheepishly. "Kitty wanted it to be in Town, but I knew that if we were to have it there, you both would hardly see each other. I needed to have you together under one roof."

"Aunt Lizzy!" She cried out.

Mrs. Bingley was as surprised as her daughter. "How come you never shared this all with me? Charles and I were both taken by surprise by the entire thing! We never really knew what was going on. Beth would always say she was sick to me and I was honestly considering sending her to Bath, to see if her health improved. It was indisposition after indisposition."

"That was because I did not want to cause a rift between you four." Elizabeth explained, slightly blushing. "You should have seen the horrid things Will and I said to each other when you were not around. As much as we could not stand one another, we always spared you the concern you might have that we did not get on."

"I can hardly presume Will could not stand you, Beth." Said Margaret lightly.

Elizabeth looked away. "I treated him horribly."

Mrs. Darcy grinned coyly at her. "Ah, but they can be very forgiving. No doubt he said his own behaviour was unpardonable and that you taught him a valuable lesson." Elizabeth gaped at her aunt. "No need to look so surprised, dearest! I married one of those creatures and gave birth to the other one."

Bennet tossed a pebble in the pond and William watched as it skipped three times before sinking into the depths of it. They were both sitting down on the grass, side by side, not minding one bit the cold wind that whipped around them and made their cheeks flushed, nor the grass stains their clothes would be covered with.

"So Mother is going to get her double wedding." William said, looking sideways at Bennet with a smirk.

"Yes. But don't expect me to gush and hug you like Meg did Beth."

William chuckled and then sobered up. "Did you ever think Mother was planning all this?"

"Will, I knew she was planning it. The ball, the wedding, the chat she had with you and Beth, everything. She told me about it when Beth ran from breakfast that morning, after you ditched her at her drawing room."

"Father did not know."

"She thought Father would not approve. She said that sometimes he tells her she goes too far. I think she thought that this would fit into that category."

"It definitely did. Elizabeth passed out, for Christ's sakes!"

"You should have seen Mother's face when you walked in carrying her, though. She was elated until she saw that Beth was unconscious. I would have laughed, if I were not concerned myself! She felt really bad and yet she could not let you know of it - she was afraid you would never forgive her - yesterday afternoon she was so nervous."

"Nervous?"

"Yes! She was afraid you would realize what she had been up to at any moment and confront her about it, say some horrid thing like 'I disown myself and never want see you again'. She was relieved to the core when I cracked that horse joke at breakfast - it was the only way I had to put her at ease, because she knew that Beth had fled the ball at her fault, everyone was concerned about Beth's health, and she was miserable. I was the only one who knew about her scheme and about you and Beth. That was one lousy joke, but it did serve for its purpose."

William listened in awe and sympathised with his mother. He was thankful to her despite her having hurt Elizabeth, after all she was only trying to help and he knew what that felt like. Bennet caught the look on his brother's face and smiled lightly at him.

"Do you wish me to remind you to hug her when we arrive back at the house?"
William shook his head. "I think I'll hardly be able to forget to, Ben."

After their chat, the ladies adjourned for tea with the other women in the house. Troubles forgotten, Elizabeth decided she owed it to herself to discuss wedding plans. Mrs. Darcy suggested they be married after Christmas, at the chapel behind Pemberley, because she honestly could not think of anything better. London weddings were usually too lavish and country-girl that she and her sisters still were, they did not want the entire ton fussing over their little girls.

"I remember my wedding." Said Mrs. Fawley with a wistful smile. "The horrible Misses Wards all abused Mary in the receiving line at the luncheon and I could not bear to go past a group of those debutantes without wanting to strangle them."

"Kitty!" Mrs. Darcy cried out in mock-stupefaction.
Mrs. Fawley shrugged, a demure smile on her lips. "I just do not want that for my Meg."

"We must ask Caroline if she wishes to host a ball in celebration." Said Mrs. Darcy smugly and Elizabeth laughed delightedly.

"Louisa would be thrilled. Poor Will!"

"You two are horrible." Said Mrs. Bingley, smiling as she set her cup on her saucer and put them back on the table.

"I want Georgie as a flowergirl." Said Elizabeth, looking at Mrs. Fitzwilliam and then smiled at Mrs. Curwood. "And Annie, of course."

"What about your bridesmaids?" Mrs. Darcy asked.
There was suddenly a bustle at the door and they all turned to see James, Henry, Richard, and John all pile into the room at once.

"There's your answer." Elizabeth replied with a grin.

"I cannot believe that I am going to get married."

"Me neither."

"Oh? Is Fitzwilliam 'Maturity' Darcy saying he is getting cold feet a mere day after his engagement?"

"No, Ben. I meant that I cannot believe you were getting married either."

Mrs. Darcy stood silently staring out of the large window between Pemberley's main staircases, which led to the family quarters. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw two men walking towards the house side by side, crushing snow with booted feet and their hands stuffed in their coat pockets, shoulders hunched because of the wind. It was unbelievable that those two people had come out from inside her, much less that that they would grow so fine and so quickly. Looking down at her time-weathered hands, her wedding ring shining in the fading daylight, she felt a sweep of nervousness of the kind she used to have when she had first come here as its mistress, a nervous bride with a future of wonders looming ahead of her.

When would I have thought, back in Hertfordshire, that my eldest son would be marrying Jane's little girl?

With a faint smile, she reminded herself that when Elizabeth was born, she had entertained the idea that the little tiny dark haired blue-eyed baby girl would grow up to marry one of her boys, but had instantly dismissed it. In her head, the Bennet girls' children would grow up to be brothers and sisters, not end up marrying within their tiny little circle.

Her eyes settled on her eldest, so much like his father it sometimes amazed her, and then on Bennet, who had been her little kindred spirit. Her second son had been a lively little soul, who had the ability to laugh at everyone's follies, including his own. She always relished in the fact that they loved one another, that William bossed Bennet around with affection and amusement, and often found it his job to shove some sense into his little brother's head whenever limits were crossed; and that Bennet idolized William in a puppy-like fashion, but never without teasing him, making him see how being fastidious was not a requirement of being part of aristocracy.

Now they were grown men, about to be married to the very same little girls whose hair she had braided in an attempt to make up for the lack of a daughter of her own. Elizabeth and Margaret, replicas of her and her own sister, one intense and the other demure, one fair and the other dark.

She puttered down the stairs, overcome with an urge to be with her sons, and when she reached the front door and saw that they were both laughing together, shaking the snow off their coats and joking with the footman, she hung back, watching with pride. William's dark eyes met hers and she attempted a smile at him. Bennet seemed to understand and walked off, probably in search of Margaret, but not before squeezing her shoulders as he passed by, tall and lean as she could hardly believe the bright brown eyed baby she gave her husband one winter night could grow to be.
William hugged her tight and she squeezed her eyes shut, letting the tears fall on his jacket.

"Do not cry. I have you to thank for everything."

"You forgive me and my folly then?" She asked.

"Of course I do." He said and then smiled teasingly. "It is only a sign of your old age - we all have to learn to make excuses for that."

Mrs. Darcy's laughter rung through the foyer as she tossed her head back and then gazed fondly at her son.

"You insufferable spoiled brat." She said and reached up to ruffle his hair.

Chapter 53

Elizabeth was shaken out of her slumber by a loud racket in her room. She heard the curtains being opened so fast as if they seemed to have been ripped from their place, and the loud puttering of feet echoed on the wooden floor as someone seemed to march in with the enthusiasm of a red coat. She sat up in bed, rubbing her weary eyes as they adjusted themselves to the dim light, and then perceived with a groan that the sun had not even risen yet. When Elizabeth saw who was making all the ruckus, she proceeded to fall back into bed with a huff.

"Go away, Meg!" She said, mouth muffled by the pillow she had brought over her face in her urge to go back to sleep.

"I thought you were an early riser." Margaret flopped onto the mattress, the ribbons of her nightgown bouncing off the fabric as she moved.

"And you are an early nuisance." Elizabeth retorted yawning.

"How can you want to sleep? In six hours, we will be married women, Beth!"

"You are behaving very strangely, Meg. Ben is likely to send you back to your parents if he ever realizes you have changed. Even better, he will give up marrying you and I will be able to get some sleep."

Margaret gaped at her. "How can you even say that on our wedding day! Have you realized that you, too, are getting married this morning?"

Elizabeth sat up in bed. "Exactly. I want to sleep now because I spent the entire night up."

As she snuggled back inside the covers, satisfied she was alone again. Her excuse that she had not been able to sleep the night before due to her nervousness proved to be argument enough for Margaret to leave her. Elizabeth smiled in remembrance of the past night. Anxiety and realisation that she would become a married woman, who would be responsible for a household and for future children, had scared away all possibilities of her sleeping that night.

Children! She had thought, turning among the blankets, and knotting up a linen sheet against her leg. I cannot even manage my sheets! How am I to manage a child!

After wrestling with the covers for nearly half an hour, and getting spent over whatever future loomed ahead of her, she sat up in bed and jumped out of it, grabbing her candle. She would go to Margaret. Her cousin always had sensible words for her in times of worry and doing like she had done many times before, she tip-toed to the room across the hall from hers and knocked lightly on the door before opening in. She winced when the door hinged and she then lightly stepped into the darkened bedroom. She smiled tenderly when saw that Miss Fawley, sprawled like an exhausted little girl, was sleeping soundly.

She fed wood to the fire and decided to leave Margaret be. It would not do to awake her and then have the two of them unable to sleep.

She left the room, but did not return to her chambers. Instead she took the stairs and wandered about the house for a while, feeling half-afraid, half-safe among those walls she knew so well. Pemberley was to be home for her now. Sure she craved for living in London with William, in a house of their own, with their servants and callers, both of them bustling along with the busy city at night and day, living like only two people violently in love with each other could live, but Pemberley would always be their starting point. It was here that she had found herself in love with him and it was here that they were going to become man and wife. She wanted her children to grow up with the pond to splash into and the grounds to explore, and she wanted to be able to love William without the smoke and the noise of London, without the talk of the ton. Here they would be Beth and Will, two young people who liked horses, ponds, races, and lying on a patch of soft grass to read a good book or talk endlessly until it was dark.

Suddenly she heard music. Someone was playing the pianoforte in the music room and she had a very good idea of whom it was. Smiling to herself, she walked over to its shut door and stood before it, listening only. It was the same piece he had played when she had arrived there two months ago, all trepidation at seeing him again, for the celebration of Margaret and Bennet's engagement, and she grinned in recollection, imagining William bent upon the instrument, so concentrated he did not even perceive her there. She opened the door slowly and despite having perceived that she was there because of the added candlelight, he did not look up at her. Rather than being disappointed, she chose to sit down and watch him, as he looked so dark and tragic and beautiful whilst playing, his fingers flying over keys expertly.

He finished and turned his head to look at her. She shuddered at the load of emotion contained in his brown eyes, fully aware that she was in her nightclothes, and blushed.

"This is not the first time I see you in your nightclothes, love." He said, turning around on the piano bench, so he could face her better.

Her eyebrows shot up. "Oh?"

"You were about five years old, and I was twelve. There was a thunderstorm, our parents had been to a ball and had not yet returned. Ben was sound asleep, because you know how Ben is, he can sleep through anything. You sneaked out of the nursery at about ten o'clock at night and wandered around the house. You found me here and...Well, I think you must have been terribly scared of the storm to stay with me. I could not sleep either and was playing the pianoforte... I played for you until you fell asleep and had to carry you back to the nursery."

"Much like now, except you will not have to carry me, I promise." She blushed with what she said implied, feeling a pack of butterflies take a turn about her stomach, and saw that he was staring her mutely, his hands gripping the end of the pianoforte bench until his knuckles were white.

She turned sideways nervously, wringing her hands. "I am nervous...Anxious... I went to Meg's room and she was sleeping like a baby."

"I do not know how they do it." He said. "Bennet is just the same."

She got up and walked towards him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as his went automatically around her waist, pulling her further into his embrace. He buried his forehead on her stomach as her fingers ran through his hair, his breathing laboured as her fingers played with the hair on the back of his head. He raised his head to her and she kissed him softly.

"I like your hair like this." He said after they pulled apart, fingering the waist-long tresses that tumbled unbound.

She sat next to him on the pianoforte bench and leaned against his shoulder, making him turn towards the instrument once more.

"Play for me until I fall asleep again?" She asked.

"Gladly."

He kissed the top of her head and began playing the Chopin piece again, and she closed her eyes. He was so talented and so nice and so wonderful. She snuggled against him, inhaling his smell, letting herself be charmed by the music and by the player, feeling herself go mellow with each note.

"I love you. You are truly the best of men." She mumbled and then yawned.

He threw his head back and laughed. "And apparently the most boring!"

She smiled and peered at him through her eyelashes, reaching out to finger a note or two on the instrument.

"You could never bore me." She said seriously. "You are so full of surprises."

"Ah, yes, it turns out I was not so insufferable." He said mildly.

"You still are." She said, her head tilted to the side like a little bird's, and he turned to look at her, frowning. "How else would you manage to steal my heart?"

Elizabeth looked sideways at Margaret, as the other girl attempted to find herself among the sleeves of her own bridal gown with the help of three maids. Margaret's red hair was in a simple twist, waiting to be hidden under a large fashionable bonnet. Elizabeth had consulted William on the subject of such and he had urged her not to wear anything like that. He wanted to be able to see his bride's eyes, and if his brother didn't have a problem with that, well...He did. Elizabeth had beamed, because she herself detested the excesses of the latest fashion and had opted for simple flowers interwoven in her hair and heirloom pearl combs, not the ones she had worn on so many occasions, but the ones her father had given her this morning, which he said her late Grandmother Bingley had worn to her own wedding.

The girl looking back at her from the mirror in front of her was hardly a girl anymore. It was a woman, one that was about to be married. Her rebellious dark curls had merely settled for framing her face, and she had also refused to let some curls loose over her shoulders. She wanted to wear her hair in a manner she liked and that was intricately braided over her head. Elizabeth had never seen anything as surreal as when a veil was pinned to her head and left to cascade down her back and over her face. Her dress was starch white, embroidered with pearls, while Margaret's was cream-coloured, with golden thread.

How did I get here? She asked herself and then shook her head, uttering a sigh.

William was pacing nervously around his dressing room and glared at his brother. Bennet was leafing through a book calmly and would only raise his eyebrows at his eldest brother.

"It is not going to work, Ben. I have spent three-and-twenty years living under the same roof as you, which was quite enough to teach me to not mind you in the least...So maybe you ought to find Father and tell him we are ready to go to the chapel to get it over with at once...I simply detest all this waiting around...Maybe they have performed a miracle and have managed to get both Meg and Beth ready by now and we are simply wasting our time..."

"Eager to become a married man, eh?" Bennet asked. "And to think of all the trouble we had to get you out of bed."

William sighed and dropped onto one of the vacant chairs.

"Do not try my temper, Bennet."

"Well, it is certainly not my fault if you and Beth spent the night...er...talking in the music room."

"We were talking!" William said indignantly. "What do you take me and her for?"

"Two people very much in love, who were found in the stable in Wragby like kitchen wench and footman, red as tomatoes." Bennet laughed. "You should have seen Uncle Bingley's face. He looked as if he wanted to either clap you on your shoulder or set the hunting hounds after you."

William felt heat creeping up his neck whenever he thought of that particular incident. Well, at least his uncle seemed to understand that keeping one's hands off his fiancée was, most of the time, a very difficult thing to do.

Suddenly the door was opened, but instead of his father like he expected, he heard the swishing of a gown and then of another. He got up, frowning, and then was enveloped in a scented childish embrace.

"I am so happy for you!" Cried Lady Annabelle Welland.

"You said that in your letter to me sixteen times, Belle, which made me doubt the quality of your tutor." He said, fighting her off as she attempted to ruffle his hair. "Who let you in here?"

"Your father." Kate explained, as she shoved her sister aside so she, too, could embrace her third cousin.

"You two are impossible." He mumbled.

"Well, thank you for showing appreciation for our utter delight regarding your good fortune, Fitzwilliam," Annabelle said with a taunting look and turned to Bennet. "You two look very handsome. I cannot tell how many hearts in England are going to be broken today."

"They should have already been accounted so when Will set his eyes on grown-up Betsy Bingley." Chuckled Bennet.

"As if your getting married did not crush many a girl's hopes, Ben." Said Kate.

"Was that a compliment from the illustrious Lady Catherine?" Bennet mocked-gaped, immediately ducking for cover.

"Yes." She said humorously. "And you should be thankful. I am not getting over the fact that my little cousin is getting married before me."

Bennet only stuck his tongue out at her, only to be reprimanded by William. Jokes like that coming from Kate were rare and should not be taken in stride. He took one more look in the mirror and ran his hand through his hair nervously.

"Let us to church?" Bennet asked, taking his hat and cane in his gloved hands.

"We are getting married in a chapel, Bennet." William said dryly.

Bennet rolled his eyes and walked out of the room, leaving his brother and his cousins to follow him in their own time.

The door closed with a soft thud, leaving a silence inside the dressing room. Brushes, combs, pins, vials of perfume, and leftover ribbons were scattered everywhere one looked.

"This is it." Elizabeth said, looking right into the pair of nervous green eyes in front of her.

"Yes." Breathed Margaret softly.

Both young women stared at each other for the longest time; breathing in and out in almost perfect synchrony, not finding any words to say to each other that would convey how they felt. Jittery? Yes. Nervous? Sure. But never so absolutely certain of their own happiness.

Margaret finally ventured into speaking, after what seemed forever. "There is a hairpin sticking out from over your ear."

Elizabeth, who had expected her soon-to-be-sister to say something deep and meaningful, nearly screamed.

"Meg!"

The older girl laughed heartily. "I mean it! It is there!"

Elizabeth turned to the mirror and shoved the impertinent little thing back into its proper place.

"Shall we go?" Her voice cracked into odd bits.

"Are you all right, Beth?"

"Never been better in my life."

"You look like you were to be bled by a doctor."

"Will you stop it, Margaret!?"

The other nodded, giggling, and stood up with a swish of her bridal gown. The veil tumbled to the floor and she gathered it in her hands, her pale, freckled little fingers definitely trembling. Elizabeth followed suit and reached for the golden knob on the door that led to her chambers. They crossed the room offering no word to each other. The only sound uttered was shaky sigh as Elizabeth reached for the other doorknob. But as she was about to step out, she had to jump back into the room quickly and shut the door with her, making Margaret stumble backwards onto a settee.

"Are you insane!?" Margaret asked loudly, surprising Elizabeth with her aggressiveness.

"No!" Elizabeth screamed back and the lowered her voice. "The lads were passing by. Would have them see us before the wedding? It is bad luck!"

William frowned when he saw the chamber door close abruptly and then heard a resounding thud from inside. He stopped, letting Bennet and his cousins go ahead, and then felt his heart thump like stampeding horses in his chest when he heard at first Margaret Fawley's voice asking someone if they were insane, followed by Elizabeth's own sharp retort. He approached the door soundlessly and glued his ear to it.

"The lads were passing by." He faintly heard Elizabeth say. "Would you have them see us before the wedding? It is bad luck!"

Taking a deep breath, he decided that he could not go without hearing her voice, and so ignoring a passing servant girl, who was eyeing him oddly, he called out in a hoarse voice.

"Elizabeth?"

He was the only one who called her that, so there was no mistake. He heard the room go quiet and some whispering go on about, until he felt a presence at the other side of the door.

"Do you not have to be somewhere in special, sir?" Elizabeth's voice was teasing, but caught the tremble in it.

"Yes, I do." He replied, leaning against the door. "But I wanted to...I had to hear your voice, Beth."

He felt a slight pressure on the other side of the door and smiled to himself, imagining the pains she was taking to be as close to him as she could get with a block of hard wood between them. What did she look like now? He closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of the wallpaper, wishing it were lavender he was smelling instead.

"I am thinking of something meaningful to say to you." Came her voice, ever so soft, from the other side of the door.

"Simple things often hold more meaning than the elaborate ones."

"I love you, Will." She mumbled and he could tell that her eyes were brimmed with tears.

"Exactly what I wanted to hear." He said. "I love you, too, dearest, but it won't do to have swollen eyes on your wedding."

She laughed shakily. "How did you know I was about to cry?"

"You are such a cry-baby, I rather expected you not to need asking me that question."

He heard her harrumph inside, mumbling something about his not being romantic.

"Oh, Beth! The man is talking to you through a closed door when Bennet is gallivanting about, doing god-knows-what! Do not complain about William!" Came Margaret's voice from further inside.

"Thank you, dear Meg!" He said, laughing. "I shall leave you both be now. I have a pressing matter of business to attend to."

With that he left, only to meet the sight of both his uncles, who were smirking at him. He offered them a grin and sped off.

"Am I too red-eyed?" Asked Elizabeth once she heard William walking off.

Margaret shook her head and stood up to adjust Elizabeth's veil over her eyes once again. "You look beautiful, dearest, as you are well-aware."

"I shall beg to differ and say that I could never match your beauty, Meg."

There was a noise outside and Margaret fell mute. Then there was a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" She asked.

"They are gone now, girls." Came Mr. Bingley's chuckling voice. "You can come out."

Elizabeth opened the door slowly.

"Oh, Lord." The gentleman croaked and Elizabeth turned slightly pink. "Dearest, you look incredible."

Her eyes filled with tears as her father kissed her brow, just below her hairline, and then drew her into a warm embrace.

"Shall I do the cliché thing and say that I will always be your little girl?" She asked in a little voice.

He laughed, obviously moved. "Of course. I shall obviously have to say that I am not losing a daughter, but gaining a son after the ceremony is over, shan't I?"

Margaret's soft voice suddenly rung from behind them. "Would you mind moving away from the door, Beth? I wish to get to my father. And Uncle Bingley, watch out...Beth is making everyone say meaningful things to her today."

When William entered the chapel, he was surprised at the number of people gathered there. He offered a smile to his closest relatives and could not help but beam at both Kate and Belle when they waved their little handkerchiefs at him from one of the front pews. He could not help but wonder how they had easily claimed them when they had left the house together. But it was no matter. There were other things to be thought of right now and when he reached the altar with Bennet on tow (his poor younger brother had been left to wait around for him for nearly fifteen minutes while he talked to Elizabeth), he could not help but stare at the closed wooden doors, under the smoky stained glass windows through which the daylight shone. It was with satisfaction that he saw that it was windy outside just enough to make the clouds move away from the sun from time to time, affording the presents with the strange effects that the coloured glass played on the floor.

It was during one of those little precious seconds, when the sun made everything golden and pure, that the chapel doors opened, and he saw his bride. His breath caught when the first thing he noticed were her violet eyes, rich in their stubborn changeableness, so peculiar he felt quite entranced. It was when she was meters away from him that he saw the dress and how its colour did absolutely nothing to compete with the freshness of her complexion. She was glowing today so entirely...Just as she should.

Mr. Bingley looked proud, grinning at the presents as if boasting on his tremendous luck of having his precious only child marry the son of who he considered one of the most excellent men in the country, his best friend and brother. The look of utter helplessness of when the elderly man pushed back his daughter's veil to kiss her forehead was quite missed by everyone and William felt that he owed it to him to take care of his Elizabeth and to make her the happiest woman in the kingdom. Well, he would have to make do right next Margaret...Looking sideways he noted that the girl was about to weep already.

"William..." He heard Elizabeth mumble softly and he faced an extended hand before him.

"Congratulations, son. Take care of her for me." Mr. Bingley looked like he was about to burst. Either with happiness or with pride.

"Yes, sir." He nodded and then heard what Mr. Fawley had to offer his brother.

"If you don't make this girl as happy as she ought to be, I am sure your father will not hesitate to lend me a shotgun himself, even if I do have my own collection."

"Papa!" Margaret had exclaimed through greeted teeth.

"I mean it, Maggie." Mr. Fawley chuckled.

William looked at Elizabeth and saw that she was grinning up at him and their gaze was only broken so she could smile with delighted anticipation at Bennet, her eyebrows raised comically. The younger Darcy returned the gesture in a rather ungraceful manner and his brother's bride had to contain her laughter.

The minister cleared his throat, but before he could speak, Elizabeth felt time freeze. She looked up at William and never before felt more assured of anything in the world than when she met his eyes at that moment. Like her mother and aunt before her, she felt that her path in life was traced, and it seemed that she had picked the perfect companion.

EPILOGUE

William Darcy stepped out of the carriage that had taken him and his younger brother, Bennet, from their club to the posh entrance of his parents' townhouse. The surprise of his progenitors taking the trouble to set up a celebration regarding his birthday had been promptly ruined by Bennet, whose attempt at lying had been matched by William's perceptiveness. Bennet now found himself more often than not rehearsing the sheepish smile he would have to present his family and friends, when William would scowl and try to dissimulate his dislike for such things. Bennet only hoped now that 'Lady Beth', as he now called his sister, would make up for it and put her husband duly at ease.

"Remind me to spill punch over your new jacket." Said William as they stood before the door.

"Sir Fitzwilliam Darcy. Bennet Darcy."

Bennet made a face at the familiar footman and the man nearly choked with laughter while announcing them. William was merely frowning, getting used to his title. Some said that his father should have got it, instead of him, but while many expected the elder Mr. Darcy to be envious, others related that the man was simply bursting with pride.

They walked into the house and met their parents at the receiving line. While Bennet explained to the Darcys that he had not meant to be so poorly a liar ("Never thought I would have them angry at me for such." He said later), William received his birthday wishes from those around him. He then felt something grab both his legs and slip down over his feet with a soft thud. He looked down and met a pair of huge green eyes blinking up at him, framed by a head of soft reddish elf locks that tumbled down the little girl's shoulders.

"Hullo, there." He greeted with a grin. "I think you got yourself the wrong pair of legs, Katie!"

Catherine Elizabeth Darcy grinned at her 'Uncle Will' and held up her arms for him to pick her up. He complied with her wishes and holstering his niece in his arms, William went in search of his sister-in-law to deliver the errant little one, seeing that Bennet was busy with an acquaintance. He knew that her older brothers must be about somewhere, but the three-year-old should not be wandering about the room unwatched.

"Where are those brothers of yours?" He asked, but she only gurgled in response.

He was looking about the crowded room for Margaret Darcy, but with a simple turn of his head, he felt his breath catch in his throat. Catherine was quite forgotten in his arms when he saw his wife's eyes glinting at him from over a glass. She was sitting in a damask love-seat, like in that faraway day at the Filmonts', wearing blue muslin with the old pearl combs and the white gloves. A pearl necklace graced her collarbones and added lustre to her alabaster skin. His mouth went dry when she smiled at him and he felt rooted to the marble floor.

"I shall relieve you of this little package." Said the distant voice of his sister-in-law, and then he felt nudged on his side. "Go to her, Will. What are you waiting around for?"

He looked sideways at Margaret and saw that there was something amiss when he caught the look in her green eyes. Three children had added nothing but beauty to the younger Mrs. Darcy's beatific looks. Her reddish hair was caught in a fashionable manner, adorned with golden pins, and the deep red of her gown put a healthy blush on her cheeks. He looked back at his young wife - for young she still was, still younger than he had been when they had been married and yet had already gone through so much. He felt invaded with love when he realized that this was the first time she was smiling in a long time. Having recently lost both her mother and a baby, Elizabeth had been put in an almost depressed state. Nothing could ease her melancholy, not even their little Annie, born in the coldest and longest night of what had seemed to be the most bitter winter. And then there had been Charles, their little son, who died a week after being born just like the Bingleys' first child of the same name and who had likewise brought so much heartache to the now passed Jane Bingley. And William knew how much the loss of Little Charles had weighted on his wife, for even though they both adored four-year-old Anne Margaret, Elizabeth felt she still owed him an heir.

But she was looking beautiful that night, exactly like the young eighteen-year-old he had been reacquainted with in a glittering night like this one, and the nineteen-year-old he had married six years before. He walked towards her in decided strides, his gaze never leaving her face.

"You are late, sir." She said, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Well, Bennet ruined the surprise bit by taking me home to change before we even went to the club." He replied, flashing his dimples at her.

"That useless idiot." She said, laughing.

"I am glad to see you happy, my love." He said earnestly and she raised her eyebrows at him, taking a sip of her wine.

But it looked frightfully transparent to be wine.

"Why are you drinking water?" He asked, frowning.

Elizabeth smiled beatifically at him, eyes shining with love. "Our Uncle Curwood told me not to drink any wine tonight...And for another seven months at least."

"Beth!" He cried out and gathered her in his arms.

He remembered the first time she had told him she was with child, when she had walked into the library one night, in her nightclothes, her unbound dark tresses hanging down to her waist. She had looked so young then, her little bare feet puttering on the fine carpet, peering from under the linen nightgown and showing him that even though this was a married woman, she was just nineteen. Then she had laid her head on his knee and told him why he had seen his uncle leaving the house that afternoon. Now she was doing it again and he grinned over her hair, feeling the lavender scent overwhelm his senses when she buried her nose in the hollow of his neck, standing on her tiptoes. Never mind the crowd that was watching their discourse, he was too happy to care and wanted all of London to know of it.

"A child then?" He mumbled over her curls.

He felt she nod against him and beamed a smile upwards at the elegant walls surrounding him.

Lady Elizabeth Darcy, née Bingley, was bound to forget that she ever despaired over her not having children. In addition to Edward Charles, born precisely seven months after the gathering at her in-laws', Elizabeth bore William three more girls. Annie found company enough in enthusiastic Jane Elizabeth, peaceful and quiet Annabelle Georgiana, and in energetic and pert Beatrice Henrietta, who grew up to be the spitting image of her Grandmama Lizzy. By the time of Fitzwilliam Darcy's passing, when Annie was fourteen, William had already increased the family fortune considerably and Bennet had already made a name for himself. With his inheritance, the youngest Darcy resigned his position at the Law office he had been working for in the company of his cousin Henry, and retired to live as a gentleman in vacant Netherfield Park, which Charles Bingley found no trouble at all passing the deed to his nephew. William and Elizabeth moved to Pemberley to the welcoming embrace of Mrs. Darcy, who did not hesitate to have ordered a painting of her daughter-in-law to hang next to hers in the gallery just as the young woman had once imagined. The plate underneath read "Lady Elizabeth Jane Darcy", in homage to the way her uncle, the old master, used to call her.

Bennet and Margaret gave their elders four children to fawn over. The eldest, John Bennet Darcy, was born ten months after their wedding soon being joined by red-haired Fawley Henry (Little Harry, to most), beautiful Catherine Elizabeth, and delightful James Richard, named after his Papa's two older cousins. The four were always called by his relations as "the Hertfordshire Darcys", which was an irony enough for their grandparents and granduncles and grandaunts, who all remembered their youth days and the impression a certain gentleman of that very name had first caused on sleepy Meryton. Now the town trembled in the wake of Bennet's four rambunctious children and, more often than not, all their cousins.

As for the fate of others...Henry Curwood once lifted his eyes from his plate during teatime in Warwick, in an occasion his cousin Lord Welland and his family were visiting his parents' estate, and caught Lady Annabelle's blue eyes. According to Henry himself, he had never seen anything match his mother's fine china so well as the blue orbs that were gazing back at him and he could not help but ask her to be his wife a while later, all in the tremulous manner the younger son of a doctor would have. His elders said that it was becoming a bad habit, this marrying between the cousins, but they would not stand in the way. So Belle became Mrs. Curwood and went to live in a townhouse not far from "Sir Will's".

Elizabeth would fondly gaze back on the days she would bustle about with Bennet, Margaret, and Henry, but would never say that she missed those days any more than the ones they would all adjourn after being married, children at their feet and laughter brimming their content eyes. She always claimed her house was filled with love, which she said was all that she needed, even if her husband would leave her every morning, saying he was out to make the Darcys even more filthy rich. She always claimed, however, that what she was eternally grateful for was the day her father and her uncle, then mere young men of twenty-six and twenty-eight respectively, had ridden out towards a great old brick manor, after having agreed that it was a fine prospect indeed. And in the end, they did not need to tell their offspring that it became much more than that.

THE END

~~

Author's Note: This story was born to me hours after I finished reading my now battered old copy of "Pride and Prejudice" my mother gave to me, but it took me a long time to write and an even longer time to post it. It has been more than a year since I once entered chat and asked the people there if they'd ever read a story that I had stopped posting a long time before, and the enthusiastic response made me want to go back, rewrite it, and post it again. It is not fully to my liking yet...Over the past months, I have gone back to the earlier chapters to edit them, and I plan to have the finished version archived.

I haven't acknowledged yet several references that I have in there, in special those to Elizabeth Gaskell's "North and South" (where do you think I got Meg's name from?) and Edith Wharton's "The Age of Innocence" (the Wellands' name,), so I'll do so now. Other than those people's names, there were other several ones, which I shall not point out...You'll just have to either go read the books or remember them if you already have. Oh, of course, there's the BJD reference in chapter 51. Who could miss that one?

I would like to thank those who took their time to read, those who responded to me, never letting me give up when I was frustrated or just too plain swarmed with work to think about it, and those who e-mailed giving me their feedback and made feel as though I was writing something decent at last. I cannot name you all, but I guess you know who you are.

In special, I would like to show my appreciation for the people who have helped me make this readable. Andréa, Sania, Lara Áine, Alicia, and Shem. You all proved to be wonderful editors (not all at the same time, though) and friends. Thank you so much.

I'd also like to thank the archivists (Kathlyn, in special), for their effort in making this a place that makes our lives so different from everyone else's. I know we forgot your birthday, Ann, but that doesn't mean we aren't eternally grateful to you.

And last but not least, there's always Miss Austen. Without her wonderful work, I wouldn't be here typing these words anyway.

Love to everyone,
Renata