Section I, Next Section

Chapter 1

Washington was lovely, much of it already sparkled with holiday lights; the chill in the air was just right for a gray December afternoon. Elizabeth Bennet pulled her scarf closer around her neck, shivered, and picked up the pace a little as she spotted the entrance to the Metro station.

She had successfully negotiated the change a few stops back and had found much to admire about Washington's famous transit system. Some 15 minutes later, her phone rang as she came up from the train.

"Hi Punkin," said a warm male voice on the other end of the line.

She greeted her father happily. Only two days and already she missed him terribly. "That's Congresswoman Punkin to you!" Lizzy was the only one of her father's daughters who had taken to what everybody considered the family business. The Bennets had been a political family for generations. Do-gooders, everybody said; Supreme Court justices, Cabinet Secretaries, a couple of Senators way back, the Bennet line extended down to city council members all over the U.S.; They had one thing in common. All the Bennets had a reputation of coming through on their promises. Lizzy and the Governor chatted as she walked toward the Washington Hilton.

A light snow had started while Elizabeth was in the subway. She felt sure that her sturdy winter boots were up to walking in the snow, but she wasn't so sure of her jacket. "Dad, it's starting to snow a little harder, and I've still got half a mile to go uphill. I really have to get my staff in place so I have somebody else to think about the weather!"

She ended the call and hunched up her shoulders against the chill wind. As she crossed a street to enter the hotel grounds, her foot hit a patch of black ice and she tumbled hard to the pavement.

"Blast!" she said, trying to recover. Her ankle was in some pain, but her pride hurt more than anything. She hoped beyond all hope that nobody had seen her fall, then she wondered how she was supposed to get up. Out of nowhere, it seemed, a hand appeared to aid her: a hand, an arm, a pair of dark eyes that showed concern for her well being. "Are you hurt, Miss?" said a deep, crisp voice.

"I... I slipped." Words rarely failed Elizabeth. As she tried to pull herself up she felt the need to explain herself to the stranger but the words wouldn't come. He stooped down beside her. "Shhhh. Let's get you out of the street, shall we?" Without a word, he put one arm around her shoulders, the other under her knees. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he lifted her up.

She tried to protest that she could walk for herself, but he wouldn't hear of it: he insisted on playing the knight in shining armor even as she insisted that she did not need one. He carried her up the walk and through the lobby of the hotel, finally releasing her to the comfort of a sofa across from the front desk.

At last he got a good look at her face, which was delicate and pretty, but sensible at the same time. Her cheeks still flushed from the cold and the occasional snowflake lingered in her dark hair. What a charming picture she makes, he thought as her teeth worried her full bottom lip. "I'm going to take a look at your ankle" he said. He had not asked her, and before she had a chance to protest, he knelt down in front of her to remove her boots and heavy socks.

"You took a nasty fall out there," he explained after a moment. "I just need to know that you're all right. No sprains, no twists, no breaks." He seemed nice enough, she thought, if he was an escaped lunatic it didn't show on his face or his clothes.

"But... but I don't even know your name!" she exclaimed as he ran a finger along the arch of her right foot. "If you're going to handle my feet that way, I'd at least like to know your name." She took several deep breaths, trying not to laugh. Somehow she knew that he'd see her ticklishness as a soft spot, and that she'd never live it down.

"Darcy," he introduced himself. "Fitzwilliam Darcy the Fourth."

"Well Mr. Darcy..." she started, but he interrupted.

"Fitz, please," he said with a brilliant smile. "I've already carried you over the threshold."

He held her right foot in both hands, cradling the heel in one, gently rotating her foot with the other. After a moment he decided that her right ankle was fine and moved to the left. "Does this hurt?" he asked, though he could see that it must.

"It hurts like... I don't know what," she responded. Her bright eyes were clouded with pain, and he looked back at her feet. The nails were painted a vivid, shimmering coral. The exact color of summer, he thought. It occurred to him that he had yet to ask her name, but he was prevented from doing so by the arrival of the Liaison for New Members.

"Good to see you, Fitz. I can see that you've already met Lizzy." Bill Lucas said, nodding at the woman on the couch. "You two should head down to the mezzanine and find your seats. Don't forget to pick up your orientation packets." He bustled away as quickly as he had approached them.

"Lizzy?" he questioned.

"Elizabeth Bennet, 12th district, Connecticut," she said simply.

He said "Right," but his in his head the words were all protestation. Did she have to be a colleague? She had seemed so promising.

"Fitzwilliam Darcy, 22nd New York. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms. Bennet." He paused to look at her again. She had slipped on a pair of flats and placed her boots in the bag. "Shall we go in then?"

She touched one of his hands with hers. Hers were quite soft, he noticed as he looked at her, wondering what she wanted. "I..." she started softly, unsure of herself for a moment. "I haven't thanked you for helping me out there." Lizzy smiled, she was aware that she was blushing. "I believe you went above and beyond the call of duty in helping a complete stranger."

He realized that she was embarrassed about the fall, and it began to dawn on him that people were looking at them, but he squeezed her hand lightly. "Don't mention it, Ms. Bennet," he said. "I am always at the service of a... colleague." A look crossed his face as he backed away from her, but Elizabeth could not quite decipher it.

Was he going to say something else, she wondered. His demeanor had changed as soon as he learned who she was, and it had not escaped her notice. He walked to the desk and requested that the bell captain find a wheelchair for her and make her as comfortable as possible, then he walked to the mezzanine alone.

The evening was entirely too packed with new names and faces for Lizzy to concern herself much with Fitz Darcy. By the time it was over, she had even forgotten that her ankle hurt.

The following blurb appeared in a Washington gossip column a few days later:

"Two names you ought to know in the 106th Congress are political progeny Fitzwilliam "Fitz" Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet. The son of the late House Speaker George Darcy, and the daughter of Connecticut Governor Bob Bennet already know each other. This could be another match on the level with Kennedy-Cuomo!" A slightly grainy black and white photograph accompanied the paragraph; he carrying her through the hotel lobby. Her head was thrown back slightly, she appeared to be laughing. He was clearly smiling.

When she saw the item, Elizabeth's shriek could be heard across the river in Virginia. Her sister came into the breakfast nook wanting to know about all the fuss. Elizabeth showed her the picture, but Jane wasn't provoked by it. "He's cute, sweetie. Did you get his number?"

Elizabeth fumed for a second and then answered in the negative. Jane knew her sister well enough to see the oncoming tirade, and she took steps to stop it. "Welcome to Washington, little sister. You're going to have to learn to run with the big dogs if you're going to survive here, and that includes handling the press."

Elizabeth started to protest but Jane wouldn't allow it. "That also means that when the press gets the better of you, you have to handle it gracefully," she said gently. "Now have another cup of coffee and then let's find you a place to live. I will not have you be the only Member of Congress who sleeps on her sister's couch."

Jane had drawn up a list of possibles for Lizzy, and they had been looking all day. Not one of Jane's possibles made it to a second round. Jane started to wonder if Lizzy might get a better look on her own, and she decided to take a break. She pointed out a neighborhood coffee house. "If you go see the last one by yourself, I'll buy you a mocha when you get back." She said, shooing Lizzy down the street. "Now get!"

That last place was a rowhouse on Seventh Street Northeast, just a few blocks from the Capitol. It would be walking distance to her office in the Longworth building as well. Lizzy liked the look of the place. There were two bedrooms upstairs, big closets, nice hardwood floors. The kitchen wasn't huge, and she laughed at herself a little, knowing she was not the world's best cook. Now, she just had to negotiate. The DC rental market was always tight, she'd heard, especially around election time.

"How do I know that you'll be stable here and won't pick up and leave for some other "opportunity"?" said the landlord. "I've been in this town for 40 years, and I've seen a lot of people come and go. I want a stable tenant!" He was very insistent; this was clearly not a happy man.

"Sir," she began, smiling, "I'm an incoming Member of Congress, a representative from Connecticut. My father is the governor there. I think you can trust me."

"Congress, eh? You don't much look like a congressman. I mean woman," he said without a trace of embarrassment. "Never did like politicos." Elizabeth wondered briefly why the man had stayed in Washington so long, but she smiled and tried another tactic.

"How would you like a big, fat deposit check?" His attitude might leave something to be desired, but the house would suit her very well indeed, she thought. If she had learned anything from her campaign, she had learned how to hold her own with people who didn't want to take her seriously. Her smile was an advantage, and she used it liberally.

She stood on the sidewalk and admired the place as she left: the postage-stamp sized yard covered with dark English Ivy, the charming brick sidewalks, the old style street lamps. Yes, it would be perfect. The landlord watched her from the bay window. Now all she had to do was... Better not think of that, she decided as she crossed the street toward Stompin' Grounds. Better concentrate on today's accomplishments.

Lizzy was very well pleased with herself. Life was good today, and it was only going to get better; she knew it.

Chapter 2

Darcy was meeting Charles Bingley, an old friend, for breakfast that morning. It would be a busy day: he would do well to reestablish contacts, and he knew he'd spend the whole day calling people who had known his father, but surely there'd be time for breakfast. It would be good to see Charles. He walked down the street to Jimmy T.'s diner, thinking about the neighborhood that was Capitol Hill as he walked.

Along with much of the District, Capitol Hill had fallen into disrepair during the 1960s, but an urban preservation movement had helped, and by the early 80s, a Hill address was something to be proud of. George Darcy had moved his family to the house on East Capitol Street during his second term.

Douglas Pembroke Hathaway, a senator from Delaware, built the house shortly after the Civil War. Mr. Hathaway's family had lived in it until the turn of the century. About that time, it passed into Judith Hathaway's hands. She married a man named Darcy, who was an advisor to President Wilson. His family lived in it for 20 years before retiring to more comfortable climes; it served as a meetinghouse during World War II, then stood empty for many years. George Darcy learned of the house shortly after he was elected and spent three years restoring it to its original splendor. Pembroke House, as it was called, was quite a showplace. The late Mr. Darcy's efforts put it on the National Register of Historic Places.

Fitz came of age on Capitol Hill, and he always considered it his home. It looked particularly lovely on a winter day like today, like it should have a postcard. Snow was piled on the trees and the austere iron fences that lined the street. Warm lights glittered out of the tall glass windows featured in most of the houses as the neighborhood woke.

So much history on these streets, he thought, and now it's all going condo. He passed a few homes that were built a few years back, perfect replicas of the Federal style. So, not all of it. Across from the new houses stood the diner. It had been there many, many years. On nice weekends, you often had to wait for a table, but on a snowy Thursday, he'd be able to slide right into a spot at the counter as he waited for the perpetually late Bingley.

Cynde was wiping down a table when he walked in; she owned the place and ran it herself. She was a big fan of eggs, and collected articles about them. Every now and again she'd tape a clipping to the cash register for the amusement and information of her customers.

"Coffee, Mr. D?" she asked brightly, knowing the answer would be yes. Fitz recalled that her father had always called his father Mr. D as well. He was warmed by the sense of continuity as much as the heat from the radiators.

"How's that daughter of yours?" he responded, nodding. Jimmy T.'s was a family place. Cynde and John's young daughter could often be found charming the customers, many of whom had known her since she was born.

"She's in Florida, with my folks. They took her to Disney World!" Fitz sat with his coffee at a table in the bay window and flipped through the morning paper. He stopped when he noticed the picture of himself carrying Elizabeth Bennet into the Hilton.

"Oh, this is just beautiful. Perfect way to start the day," he muttered. "I can't believe this!"

"What?" asked Charles, who had approached from behind and now peered over his friend's shoulder. "Oh. Yeah. I saw that." He chuckled at Fitz's consternation. "She's cute, my friend. Did you get her number?"

Fitz's mouth was set into an absolutely straight line; he never liked to be teased, not even by a close friend. "She's really not my type," he grumbled. Charles looked down at the picture--at the smiles on their faces-- then he looked back at his friend with one questioning eyebrow raised.

"She's a colleague, genius."

"Duh, genius!" Of course Charles would have known who she was. As an analyst on congressional issues for an independent think tank, he studied all the campaigns. In most cases, he knew who was going to win them before the elections. "If you're thinking she's a member of the wrong party, I dare say that's just a matter of semantics." At Fitz's puzzled look, he continued. "Ms. Bennet of Connecticut is one of the most moderate Democrats I've ever researched. You're one of the most moderate Republicans. Neither of you is likely to vote straight party line on anything; you probably differ somewhat on a few hot-button issues like gun control and reproductive rights, but I expect your voting records to be strikingly similar."

"Well, that's nice to know," Darcy quipped in a tone that said he didn't care to know any more about Ms. Bennet of Connecticut. "What I was going to say was that she's a colleague," he paused for emphasis. "I make it a firm policy never to date women with whom I work."

"But you admit that in this case you were thinking about it."

Charles waited a few seconds for his friend's answer, but they were interrupted by the arrival of their breakfast. Fitz started buttering his waffle while Charles poured ketchup on his scrambled eggs and corned-beef hash.

Cynde brought them more coffee. Fitz took a first bite and smiled. Charles was had not yet given up on getting an answer out of his friend.

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"What about Elizabeth Bennet? You have to admit that you look very friendly in the picture." Fitz glanced back at the picture; he supposed they did. He reddened slightly, recalling his remark about the threshold.

"Oh, all right," he began. "I flirted with her like any ordinary man would do with any ordinary woman. In the few minutes we spent together, I was the most charming man in Washington. I don't know what came over me." He remembered holding her in his arms, how right it had felt. Something had come over him, something that softened his tough exterior for a moment. It didn't matter. he supposed.

"What happened?" Charles was genuinely curious.

"I found out that she's more than a pretty face, she's a representative from Connecticut."

They ate their breakfast quietly until Charles started asking questions again. "So, why is it a problem that you flirted with her," he asked. "I mean, look at her!"

"The problem is that we're not just anybody," Fitz said. "We're both members of congress, and we're going to be in the public eye no matter what we do. I don't want to get caught making goofy eyes at her across the aisle on C-Span! I don't want to have to go through her scheduler when I ask her to lunch. I don't want the added publicity of a match on the level of Kennedy-Cuomo,'" he quoted and took another sip of his coffee.

"Ack. Cold," he grumbled and made a face. As he paid his check and gathered up his coat and scarf, Charles watched him. His oldest friend was probably overreacting, but Charles knew Fitz well enough to understand that he would have to figure that out on his own.

"Cheer up, old man," Charles said as they went out into the snowy day. "I'm sure I'll run into her someplace. Maybe I'll ask her out. I mean, I don't work with her." Fitz stuck his hands in his pockets and headed off in the direction of the Longworth House Office Building. He'd find some peace in his new office.

Charles headed toward the Metro and thought about his friend and Elizabeth Bennet. Fitz must have felt a powerful attraction, he thought as he walked. After all, how long had it been since a reporter with a camera had escaped Fitz's notice?

Darcy walked and walked. He wasn't much of a walker, except when there was something on his mind. There most certainly was on this day. So Charles was going to hunt down the pretty new congresswoman and ask her out! He had never known his friend to be reserved, likewise he had never known Charles to be so brazen. It had to have been a joke.

"That's it!" he said to nobody at all. "He was kidding with me. I'll get him for that."

Fitz had always envied Charles' ease with other people, particularly with women. It had been a real surprise to him that he felt no awkwardness talking to Elizabeth... to Ms. Bennet. Perhaps he should take this one incident as a sign that his luck was changing. Certainly he could find some nice woman to take to dinner! He'd start working on that after the holidays. In the mean time, he had to hire a few more people for his staff, plan a reception for his fellow new members, get cards sent out to all his key supporters as well as his personal friends, find the perfect gift for Georgiana. He had so much to do, he could hardly think of everything.

Dating. What was he thinking? Had that one encounter with her made him forget about the all the grafting golddiggers who had pursued him since his return from the John F. Kennedy School of Government? Sometimes it seemed like every woman in Washington was after him. Ms. Bennet must have been jesting when she asked my name!

By the time he mounted the white marble steps of the Longworth building, he had decided that nothing had changed; nothing would change. He had standards to uphold, a family name and reputation to protect. That was the way it had always been, that was the way it would always be. Nothing wrong with that.

By the time that day had finished, both Lizzy and Fitz slept remarkably soundly, each smug in the knowledge that the other had made no impact, at least very little impact, on a solitary but satisfactory life.

Chapter 3

Author's Note: When I was very young, I used to amuse my brother and our friends by telling stories. My father encouraged me to write them down; in fact, I dictated them while he typed. This one's for you, Dad.

The Bennet family always spent Christmas at the family homestead in Longbourn, Connecticut. It was quite a tradition: Bob, his two sisters, and brother gathered their families and brought them home for the holidays. It was the one time during the year when they saw each other all together. Everybody had a chance to remember where he came from, and Bob liked to say that keeping in touch with family kept them all humble.

His youngest daughters didn't particularly appreciate the importance of tradition; all they knew was that it took them away from their teenage social circle, and that it meant a trip in the car with the whole family; therefore, a visit to Grandma's could be seen as nothing other than an imposition.

"Dad, I could totally do without all those musty old relatives," said 15-year-old Kylie. "Why do we all have to haul our..."

"Kylie!" the governor cut off his youngest before she said any more.

"Dad, Kylie's right," Kit agreed with her sister. She was 17 years old, and she wasn't any happier about the traditional visit than her younger sister. "Carly Johnson's family is throwing the most delicious sounding holiday bash in NYC on the 23rd, and we won't be able to attend if we're up in Longbourn," she pouted.

"What's the point in being the governor's daughter if we can't go to the best parties?" Kylie whined.

"Enough!" Bob cried. He couldn't get a moment's peace with these girls around, and he was grateful that his elder girls would be returning that very day.

"There will be no parties in New York City for you," he stated firmly. "We will all make the trip to Longbourn Farm, every last Bennet."

The younger girls began to protest their father's decision, and their voices bounced around the grand foyer of the Governor's Mansion. Bob Bennet rolled his eyes; his mind was made up, indeed it was. This was the scene into which Jane and Lizzy entered.

They watched for a moment. Jane smiled; Lizzy shook her head and they glanced at each other. "Some things never change," Jane remarked. "Pay up."

Lizzy extracted a one-dollar bill from her purse and handed it to Jane. "You win again," Lizzy quipped. The governor had joined them in the doorway by now. He was always overjoyed to see his first two daughters; they had each made him very proud.

Lizzy had practically grown up at his right hand; she was always interested in the political process, always watching quietly then asking questions. As a young child, he took her to rallies and victory parties. He allowed her to do little chores around the campaign offices, such as stuffing envelopes. When she was a little older, she moved onto answering the phones and setting appointments. Lizzy's bedtime stories had been of what was happening at the office, and he often said that he solved some of his toughest problems by relating them to his second daughter.

Jane had been the surprise. She was the pretty one, her mother's favorite by a mile. Since the day Jane was born, former Miss Kentucky Deeann Bennet had been positive that her baby would grow up to follow in her footsteps. She had been so sure that she sang her young daughter to sleep each night with "There She Is, Miss America." Deeann had such dreams for Jane: dreams and plans.

A dutiful daughter, Jane allowed herself to be coached and molded, but Bob also influenced his eldest child and hoped for a perfectly normal life for her. He put his foot down as needed and Jane grew up with great poise, great beauty, and good sense. She realized early on that the pageants meant scholarship money, and that would help out with college costs. By the time she turned 17, she had won enough scholarships from pageants by to attend the college of her choice at no cost to her parents.

Her choice was Yale, and she graduated with honors with a degree in urban planning. After earning a master's degree from New York University, she moved to Washington to accept a job as a policy analyst at the Brookings Institution.

Rather than being jealous of Jane's success, Lizzy was inspired by her big sister's determination and her kindness. Lizzy and Jane had always been the very best of friends.

"What's all that racket down there?" a high-pitched voice twanged from behind a door. Deeann emerged into the grand foyer in a cloud of Elizabeth Taylor's White Diamonds. She always said it gave her an air of class and sophistication.

Bob coughed; Lizzy and Jane smirked at each other, and everybody in the room greeted Mrs. Bennet with the smiles she expected. She approached her eldest daughters and leaned in toward each of them in turn, so they could kiss her on the cheek.

"Oh Jane, I cannot believe you are still so beautiful, as much time as you spend at that job," she lamented before moving on. She had little to say to Jane, who had celebrated her 30th birthday this year. Any woman who remained unmarried at the age of 30 had to be destined for spinsterhood. In this case Jane had brought it on herself. "What could I possibly say to such a girl," Deeann said, clicking her tongue in disapproval. She had often made similar statements to one or the other of her younger girls, as a preventative lesson.

"But Lizzy! I'm so proud of you!" she cried as she moved on to her second daughter. Elizabeth was confused, but not for much longer. "To have secured a beau so soon after your arrival in Washington! And such a beau! Oh my!" Deeann fanned herself with a well-worn newspaper clipping she held in her hand. "He's so handsome, and from such a good family!"

If I live to be 100, I will never be allowed to forget that stupid picture! Lizzy thought. It was no use explaining to Mama, who was already asking if they had seen their Uncle Buddy yet.

Uncle Buddy was Wilson "Buddy" Phillips, who was also known as the Speaker of the House. He had married Deeann's sister, Bunny. Bunny Phillips was several years and several plastic surgeries younger than her sister was; the scandal sheets sometimes referred to her as Busty Phillips. She was Buddy's fourth wife. Buddy succeeded George Darcy as Speaker, and privately Lizzy thought this was a real shame.

"Not yet, Mama," She stated without embellishment. "I'm sure I'll see him once Congress is in session."

As Deeann went on about how important her brother-in-law was now, Lizzy sighed and exchanged a look with her father. She couldn't afford to burn any bridges, but one of the hopes she had confided in him was that a wave of younger politicians could energize the legislative process, shake it up from the way it had become under the stewardship of people like Buddy Phillips. People like me and Fitz Darcy could...

She stopped the thought in midstream. Where had that come from?

The governor noticed his daughter's conflicting emotions. There would be time later to find out what was on her mind; he would make sure of that.

The middle Bennet daughter, Marie, arrived the next morning. She was a student at the University of Kentucky in her second year. An equestrienne, she had been an alternate to the U.S. Olympic team. Though she did not have a chance to ride in competition, she marched in the opening ceremonies, lived in the athlete's village and attended many events of the Sydney games. With Marie's stories from Sydney and Elizabeth's stories from her successful campaign, Bob Bennet was sure his brood would do more talking than anybody else at Longbourn over the holidays.

In the early hours of Saturday morning before they were to go to Longbourn, Bob looked in on each of his sleeping girls. Each of them had brought him such pleasure. Kit and Kylie had been born after his work began to take him away from the family. You are your mother's daughters, but each of you has a little bit of me as well--your stubbornness and your love of music. He looked at Kylie and then at Kit.

Marie was the classic middle child. He knew she hadn't felt like she fit in with her sisters, but she always had such a passion for riding, and he supported her in that. When you called me from the Olympic trials and told me that as an alternate, you would be able to travel with the team--that you were going to Sydney--there was such joy in your voice. I cried as I told you how proud I was. Words couldn't express it.

He came to Jane's room next. Dear sweet, capable Jane. Deeann was not kind when she realized that your goals were about more than your looks. Your heart should have been broken by your mother's defection, but you kept on. I am so proud of you, Janie. Sometimes I think you're the very best person I know.

Bob paused before the last door, and smiled. Elizabeth. My Punkin. He tapped lightly on the door. If he knew her at all, she'd be awake already, probably hunched over her laptop exploring ideas.

She opened the door a crack, "Dad? What is it?" she asked, yawning, but not really surprised to see him.

"I'm sorry about the fuss your mother made over that newspaper clipping," he began. She colored a little. "I was shocked that she had it," Lizzy responded.

The governor explained that his press secretary came across the item and gave it to Deeann. Lizzy was not surprised. "I knew all along that if I chose a life in politics, I was choosing to make my life an open book," she said softly. "I will do well to remember that my mother will be among those reading it."

"Are things very serious between you and Darcy?" he asked.

"Things?" she said. "There aren't any things! That photograph was taken the one and only time Fitz Darcy and I met. I didn't even see the photographer." Bob could tell that his daughter was mortified by the incident.

"It's all right, Punkin. I believe you," he reassured her. "But Fitz Darcy comes from good people." Bob paused for a moment, and Lizzy made a face. "I don't mean that the way your mother did, just stating fact."

Bob kissed Lizzy on the forehead and advised her to catch a little more sleep before they hit the road. "There won't be a quiet moment at Longbourn, you know."

"I wouldn't want it any other way, Dad."

Bob Bennet returned to his suite and crawled back into bed. He looked at his sleeping wife much as he had looked at their daughters. You are still so beautiful, Dee. Sometimes I wonder what you're doing married to me. He smiled, and kissed her gently on the cheek. "Thank you," he whispered. "For giving me the gift of a daughter five times over."

Chapter 4

Fitz always had a good day on Christmas Eve--a quiet, peaceful day. There was almost never any work to do, and he would spend the whole day with his visiting sister, Georgiana. She returned home from Cornell University almost a week before, but they had both been busy with holiday preparations. In addition, Georgiana found that her graduate program in veterinary medicine came with more vacation reading than she expected.

He came in from a quick trip to the market and was surprised to find her puttering around his kitchen. She reached into a cabinet, pulled out several spice jars, and set them on the island next to a bowl. Fitz couldn't tell what the dish was going to be, but it looked complicated. "Hey, how old are these spices?" she asked. "You know they have a shelf life, right?"

"You're not taking extra classes at the culinary institute, are you?" he inquired, somewhat wary.

"Hah!" she shot back. "I watch Food TV on cable. I'm learning to cook from Emeril. BAM!" He smiled at her and cracked that the number for Al's Pizza was on the 'fridge, if she got into trouble, then he walked into the living room to relax in front of the fire. Yes, today he was going to relax. Fitz picked up a copy of Dickens' A Christmas Carol and began to read.

Christmas Eve at Longbourn was a boisterous affair. Bob was right; everybody wanted to congratulate Lizzy and Marie on their very recent accomplishments. Kit filled every quiet second with a reminder that she'd be graduating from high school this year, and that she was still choosing a college, currently leaning toward pre-law at Boston University. "Because I can't think of anything better to do," she remarked several times.

Susan Bennet-Connors' son, Marcus, had finished medical school in Houston and started his residency in Nashville. James Bennet's wife, Rhoda, was still in treatment for breast cancer, but she felt that the worst of it was over. Their twin sons, Evan and Matthew, showed great interested in Marie's photo album from Sydney.

Eight-year-old Amber, the daughter of Laura Bennet and her husband Dennis Wright had something to show everybody.

"Cornie!" she ran shouting to her grandmother with her fingers in her mouth. "Cornie! Look! I got a loose toof!" She wiggled it around for Cornelia Bennet to see.

"Yeah," said Marcus with a wry smile on his face. "I still think they should have been called the Tennessee Tuxedos, but I confess I've enjoyed watching the old Houston Oilers do so well in their new home."

"Ev! That's Vince Carter!" Matthew said to his brother, pointing at one of Marie's pictures.

"Dude!" Evan exclaimed as he looked at his cousin Marie with newfound respect.

Kylie and her cousin, Justine, were involved in a heated discussion of the relative merits of N'Sync and the Backstreet Boys. Every so often, they were audible over the several other conversations in the room. "Right, OK, but I think Justin looks like a girl on the cover of Teen People," Kylie insisted.

"He does NOT!" said Justine, defending her favorite. "Besides, he even WROTE one of the songs on the latest album." Kylie rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

It was a free-flowing affair. People filled their plates from the buffet. The table was heavy with many dishes; turkey, ham, roast beef, Aunt Susan's special mashed potatoes, Cornie's cranberry chutney and a cheesecake from the chef at the Governor's Mansion were very tempting. They ate, they talked; they celebrated being a family.

Back at Pembroke House, Fitz woke from a very restful nap when Georgiana bounded into the living room. "Fitz!" she cried happily. "It's snowing! Look outside!" A gentle snow fell from the sky, perfectly appropriate for Christmas Eve. Huge flakes like puffs of cotton floated through the warm-colored light from the street lamps; the time was about 4:30, it was just about twilight. In the distance, they heard the bright sounds of the brass choir that strolled around Capitol Hill every year playing Christmas carols. O Come, All Ye Faithful seemed to make a cathedral of the streets.

The room was warm from the fire and filled with the scent of the huge Fraser Fir they had trimmed three days ago. Most of the ornaments reminded the Darcys of their parents. This whole season has been quieter than usual, Fitz thought as he put his arm around his baby sister. "You're getting all grown up," he began. "You'll be leaving me in a few years to start your practice, and eventually to start a family. I'll be all alone."

"Don't go getting all mopey on me, Fitz. You could always start a family of your own if you're worried about getting lonely." she paused. "But right now I'm going to leave you alone for a few minutes to change out of these grubby cooking clothes," as she departed she reminding him that dinner would be served at 5.

Fitz watched the snow fall; the room grew darker. The flakes came heavier now, and he could still hear the music several blocks away. White Christmas He recalled December's first snowfall and thought of the lovely Ms. Bennet with pink cheeks and bright eyes, with snowflakes in her hair. He took a step closer to the window and pressed a palm against the glass; he shivered, but not from the cold.

Georgiana's dinner was lovely: the appetizer was brie baked in phyllo pastry and the meal featured sweet potatoes baked with tart apples, butterflied roast pork loin and field greens in a fig vinaigrette. She made a pumpkin cheesecake for dessert. Fitz decided that Food TV was a pretty good teacher.

"If you decide to give up on the animal thing, I think you could find work as a chef," he sincerely complimented Georgiana's effort. "Or you could just hang out here and cook for me."

"I'm sure, Fitz," she responded. "That's so going to happen. Vet school is just getting to be fun. I get large animals next term, and I'm really excited."

"Large. How large? Do you mean elephant-sized?" he asked.

"No, more like cows and horses. A lot of vets specialize in farm animals, and Cornell is really strong in its large animals programs."

Fitz had to smile. "I can just imagine introducing my sister the horse doctor to the President."

"Sure, and I might have to tell some of my clients that my brother is their congressman!"

They continued to talk and laugh together throughout the meal. Fitz was glad they had turned down their Aunt Catherine's invitation. She had a big place out near Middleburg, Virginia. It would be full of family and acquaintances, but after losing their father, Fitz and Georgiana both felt that they needed a quiet holiday. They needed this time to reconnect with each other as a family.

At Longbourn, the Bennet Family ate its fill and the time came for the traditional family toasts. The head of each family lifted a glass to his or her individual family while cataloging the accomplishments of its members. Bob, his sisters and brother spent time each December going over the past year making note of things that had happened. Each of them tried to balance humor with seriousness and counter any sorrows with joys. They all found that by December, it was tough to remember what had happened in January. Every year they all vowed to keep better notes, and every year they did not.

Laura Wright was the youngest of Cornelia's children, and she stood to begin her little speech. "The Wrights have had a pretty good year--my college sorority sisters still call my husband Mr. Right, so I figure we're OK on that," she smiled at Dennis, who had the sense to blush a little bit. "Amber started second grade this year and she's doing great. Ben is studying in Germany this year, but he promised to call tomorrow. He writes to us about as often as you'd expect," she paused. "When he needs money." There was a scattering of laughter as they all thought of Laura's 16-year-old son, who was quite a talented negotiator. "We took a family trip to Europe this past summer before leaving Ben in Heidelberg, and Dennis has the pictures from that, if you'd like to see them." She heard a little bit of murmuring among her family and then announced the big surprise. "My last bit of news is that we're expecting another baby in the late summer."

The congratulations began immediately with a hug from Jane. "Oh, Aunt Laura, I'm so happy for you!" she cried. Bob and James patted Dennis on the back and Deeann asked Amber whether she preferred a brother or a sister.

"Don't really care," she replied. "As long as it's not ugly." Cornelia smiled, thinking of welcoming her next grandchild. "You know, Laura Anne, you were quite a surprise, too," she said, looking back. "I hope your surprise baby is just as nice."

James Bennet went next. "Well, I don't have any surprises like Laura's, but I'd like to invite you all to come visit us our new place at Myrtle Beach," the long-time state senator from South Carolina mentioned. "OK, Evan and Matthew surprised us all when both of them made the honor roll and the varsity football team. Neil's wife, Barbara, is expecting our first grandchild any day now," he displayed his cellular phone and pressed a button. "Let's see how they're doing."

"Merry Christmas, Number One Son," James beamed. "I'm here with the family, up at Cornie's place, just calling to check on Barbara." He was quiet for a bit and then his face broke into a thousand smiles all at once. "Terrific!" he beamed as he told the crowd that Barbara had been in mild labor for two hours, and that they were just about to go to the hospital. Rhoda motioned for her husband to give her the phone. "Put Barbara on, honey... Barb, it's Rhoda. Hang in there, and you can yell and scream all you want. We love you both.... Neil, anything she says while she's in labor, she doesn't mean it."

James finished the call and continued his toast. "And as I was considering last year, I'm not going to run for another term. Rhoda's ongoing fight with breast cancer has helped us realize that time is precious. I've enjoyed serving the people of my district, but now I want to concentrate on spending time with my family."

"Good for you, Uncle James," Lizzy said proudly.

"It's always hard to follow Jimmy, who can make dinner at McDonald's sound like an event," Susan began. "Most of you know that we lost our beloved border collie, Skip, this year. That meant, among other things, that our shoes stopped disappearing." Several of the Bennets had lost shoes to Skip's herding instinct, and there were many smiles remembering Susan and Steve's tenacious dog. "Well, we're about ready to try another dog, so we've scheduled a trip to the animal shelter for the second week in January. I'm sure we'll want to adopt them all." She paused for a moment, remembering the dog her whole family had loved. "Moving on, Janna bought her first car over the summer, with money she saved from babysitting. We're very proud of her for that, and rumor has it that Justine successfully made it through her first date, but she's not really talking about that."

"Mom!" a red-faced Justine interrupted her mother. Susan served as mayor of Northampton, Massachusetts. She was used to being interrupted.

"And we're especially proud of Dr. Marcus Connors, who started at Nashville Mercy Hospital this year."

Bob Bennet made the final toast. "Here's to my wife and five beautiful daughters, who continued a tradition of handling themselves with grace and poise in every situation. Let's see..." he surveyed the room full of family. "Kylie was named Miss Fashion Northeast in April. Kit has narrowed her college choices down to two, thought she changes her mind about her possible majors every week. Marie was an alternate to the U.S. Olympic Team and had a fantastic time in Sydney." There was a general cheer for Marie's accomplishment. "I think she also shows great talent as a photographer; Of course, Lizzy was elected to congress this year!"

"Don't forget, Lizzy," her grandmother said, smiling. "You're my congresswoman now." Cornelia liked the sound of that.

"You've got my number, Cornie."

"Jane finally broke down and bought a condo in Washington," Bob continued quickly before his wife could add that she still wasn't married. "And Dee has kept busy working on a committee for the American Cancer Society to promote cancer awareness in Connecticut." Dee sat next to Rhoda on a sofa and reached over to squeeze her hand as if to say, "I'm always thinking of you." The sisters-in-law exchanged a look of compassion and gratitude.

The Bennets never failed to impress Lizzy. Her best aspects of her large and often difficult family emerged during the holidays. They drove each other crazy, but when all had been said and done, they loved each other. She drew a great deal of strength from her family, and although she probably didn't say so often enough, she loved them all.

After the last toast was made, all the Bennets raised their glasses to Cornelia, the woman who brought them together year after year.

In Washington, Christmas morning was perfectly clear and cold; with the sun glinting off the snow it was almost blinding. Pembroke House came to life with preparations for the open house just before noon. The festivities began at 2. That was late enough for people to enjoy the morning with their families, attend services if they wanted, and then go out to socialize.

Fitz was happier today than he had been the day before. He considered this change for a moment, then blamed his melancholy on the darkness.

Charles Bingley arrived about 3 and observed his friend stalking a waiter who circulated with a tray of confections.

"Fitz, old man," he said, approaching from the left as Fitz reached to his right for a chocolate espresso truffle. "How do you manage to eat like that and keep your girlish figure?" Charles observed that his friend was as fit and trim as ever, though he could not recall ever seeing Fitz eat anything healthy.

"Ancient Chinese secret," Fitz barely repressed a laugh at his baby-faced friend as he motioned to Georgiana to come and greet their new guest. Georgiana was delighted to see Charles, who often seemed like a second brother to her, but she had an immediate question.

"It's wonderful to see you, Chuckles," she said, using his ancient nickname because it always made him blush. 'Please tell me Herself couldn't make it today."

"Herself is in your powder room fixing her hair. I can't believe she's taken so long." Charles loved his sister Caroline, whom he and Georgiana had called "Herself" behind her back as long as either one could remember. He really did love her, but he didn't understand her most of the time. She had always been impressed with the Darcys money and prestige. Fitz's good looks didn't hurt him in her eyes, but she made it clear that that was just icing, especially now that he had been elected to congress.

Caroline Bingley walked into the room with her hips thrust forward in a modish prowl. She swung her shoulders and her straight blond hair moved with her walk. Georgiana stared at her in amazement-she wore so many necklaces and such big earrings; and how long did she spend on her makeup? Caroline was the very portrait of a high-maintenance woman. The pink and black checked suit didn't flatter her, and Georgiana suspected it wasn't a real Chanel, anyway.

Georgiana noticed her brother's face go white as Caroline entered his peripheral vision and she decided to do him a favor. "Caroline!" cried Georgiana, effectively diverting her from a beeline toward Fitz. "It's been an age since I last saw you. Aren't you a sight!"

Caroline may have grumbled internally, but she was on a mission and making nice with Fitz's sister couldn't hurt her cause.

"Georgie, dear, how are you?" said Caroline between air kisses. Georgiana wondered how much perfume one woman could wear. "You must let me introduce you to Senor Rincon, the Ambassador from Venezuela. He's our honored guest," Georgiana guided Caroline toward a distinguished looking gentleman who was presently wrestling with a spiral-sliced ham on the buffet. With that she kept Caroline away from where her brother was talking with a couple that lived on Seventh Street.

"Darcy, I tell you," said Jim Hurst "It's great having you in Congress. I know you have the best interests of the Hill neighborhood at heart, almost like we have our own representative!" Fitz smiled and said he'd do his best. Jim and his wife were nice folks. He worked as a psychiatrist for the Department of Defense; she taught English in high school. Lousia Hurst seemed to be surveying the room, looking for somebody. When Fitz asked, she responded easily. "Oh, I thought I might see our new neighbor here today."

Fitz looked at Mrs. Hurst, not quite understanding, but her husband clarified the matter. "Elizabeth Bennet just moved in across the street from us, and I thought you two knew each other," Jim paused before adding. "She's a pretty girl, and seems to have a good head on her shoulders."

"I haven't seen Ms. Bennet in a couple of weeks," Fitz said with every appearance of calmness. "Actually I met her only once, but I look forward to working with her once the session gets underway." He stressed the word "working" as not to be mistaken.

Fitz stepped out into the courtyard for a breath of air. He enjoyed having people over, but the presence of Caroline Bingley in concert with the mention of Elizabeth was too much, and he found himself momentarily overwhelmed. He turned his eyes upward to a dazzling display of sun shining through icicles. That Elizabeth was outside the circle of women he'd consider dating-and that Caroline was technically inside that circle-was absurd. Why couldn't Caroline Bingley be a member of congress?

And then he laughed out loud at his silly question; he laughed loud enough that he feared they would hear him inside, so he returned to his guests with a smile on his face.

After all the gifts had been opened at Longbourn, Cornelia had a question for the latest politician in the family. It was a rather blunt question. 'Any prospects?" she asked. "I mean, have you met any young men?"

"Oh Cornie," Lizzy answered. "All right, I met one. He seemed very nice, but I haven't seen him since we met. At first I thought he liked me, but now I'm not so sure."

Cornelia sensed a bit of regret in her granddaughter's voice. "You can't wait for modern men, Elizabeth," she said. "Sometimes you have to make up their minds for them." Elizabeth stared back at the older woman. "He'd better get used to you being aggressive, dear. You're in politics."

Chapter 5

~Early January~

Elizabeth walked up and down the two aisles of the convenience store known as Congress Market. The amount of stuff packed into that little place was incredible. "If it wasn't here, we'd starve to death," said one if her neighbors as a matter of fact. Her basket contained three cartons of yogurt, some apples, salad in a bag and whole wheat bread as she paused before the wine. "That's not enough to feed a small bird," a fellow shopper remarked. People on the Hill were remarkably chatty, she reminded herself. It was almost like living in a small town.

"Well, I have lunch out," she said. "My work seems to keep me pretty busy."

The baby-faced blond man looked at her a little more closely. "I know I've seen you someplace before," he started. She decided to get it over with then and there.

"I'm Elizabeth Bennet," she introduced herself, extending a hand to the stranger.

"Right!" he exclaimed. "Charles Bingley, very glad to meet you finally." They shook hands vigorously and he continued. "My friend Darcy must be insane. He said you weren't his type."

"Oh. Is that what he said?" Elizabeth rolled her eyes. Not his type. Wonder what his type is? Underdressed big-haired bottle blondes, or overdressed horrors like Kylie wants to be when she grows up. Hah!

By the time Elizabeth checked-out, she and Charles had exchanged business cards and agreed to meet for lunch during that week.

Having picked up the requested chips and salsa, Charles continued on to Fitz's place, where they were supposed to watch the NFL playoffs. Throughout the afternoon, Charles never mentioned his new acquaintance or their lunch date.

Charles met Lizzy at 11:45 Tuesday afternoon, as he had promised he would. They shook hands; she apologized for the disorganized state of her offices and he laughed. "You need a bunch of interns to keep everything looking sufficiently busy. How else are you supposed to justify all that paper?"

They walked out together involved in an animated discussion of the role of the policy wonk in modern government; they did not see a tall, dark man spot pass them in the hall, but he saw them and came to a dead stop. Fitz saw his best friend walking together with the woman he hadn't been able to get out of his head, despite his objections to her.

And, despite his better judgment, he followed them. They walked a few blocks up the Hill to Pennsylvania Avenue where they entered a popular lunch spot, Il Radicchio. Jealousy burned within him as he remembered Charles' quip the day they had seen the picture in the paper. "Maybe I'll ask her out; after all, I don't work with her." If that isn't the lowest form of dirty trick!

He stood on the steps of the Library of Congress building across from the restaurant and pondered his options. What am I even doing out here? I have to get in there; I need a lunch date fast. He scrolled through the list of numbers on his phone. Aha! Charlotte Garza would be perfect. He said a silent prayer that luck would be with him, that the representative from California would be in her office. They were friends back at Harvard, and he owed her a visit anyway. This could work out to his advantage. The wind picked up and Fitz realized that he wasn't wearing his overcoat. He shook his head.

The phone rang, and Fitz was surprised when Charlotte herself picked up. "Congresswoman Garza's office."

"Char? Why are you answering your own phone?" He paused for a second. "It doesn't matter, have lunch with me? Please? I'm buying!"

"With an invitation like that from one of the most eligible bachelors in Washington, how can I refuse?" He asked her to hurry. Like a man on a mission, he crossed the street and entered the restaurant.

"Just one today?" asked the hostess as Fitz looked around the place. He barely shifted his weight from one foot to the other until he saw who he was looking for, then he froze. "Two. Someone is joining me shortly."

Fitz tried to keep his eyes off Elizabeth, who was radiant in a high-necked charcoal sweater and skirt with her hair pulled back. At their table, she and Charles were exchanging legislative stories, when he mentioned the Brookings.

"I wonder if you know my sister, Jane Bennet. she's a policy analyst at the Brookings," Elizabeth said. "I keep thinking that you remind me of her. I suppose it's because you're in the same business," she mused pleasantly.

That smile! Fitz thought. He supposed she wasn't like an ordinary co-worker, and their situation wasn't the same as it would be in a business. Asking her out would not be the same as dating somebody from the secretarial pool, would it? It would still be wrong. Now, she's not only a colleague, she's dating my best friend. This is a disaster. What am I doing here?

Charlotte's tap on his shoulder distracted him from his misery. "Fitz!" she said brightly as they shook hands. "It's good to see you!" She still wanted to know what was going on. It had been a while since she'd seen Fitz Darcy, but she'd never seen him quite so nervous.

He was unaware that Elizabeth had noticed him come in, and that her gaze strayed regularly from her companion. Charlotte could not help but notice that the pretty brunette, more often than not, had her eyes turned toward Fitz.

"Where's your overcoat, Fitz?" Fitz just kept on staring at the woman who shared the table with Charles. "I assume there's quite a story behind this, maybe we'd better sit down and you'd better tell me what's going on."

He explained from the beginning, from that night in the street and everything that had happened since then, right up to the point when he turned to follow them without a second thought. He even shared the thoughts he had kept to himself until that day.

Charlotte smiled at her friend. "Fitz, I think this is the first time I've ever known you to do something without fully analyzing the consequences your action might cause 20 years down the road." Fitz hung his head in mock shame, but he understood what she meant.

"Char, in the few minutes we spent together, she made me feel like a regular guy," he said. "I've never felt like a regular guy. People look at me and they see a name, a fortune, and an elected office. They don't see a regular guy."

"Lately they see 'disarming good looks,'" Charlotte added. "Reliable Source, last week, wondering who'd be your escort for the Inaugural Ball" she quickly attributed. Fitz rolled his eyes. "I don't have a date. I wouldn't even go if I didn't have to."

"Did it occur to you that this might be a professional lunch? He does work for the Policy Institute, you know. What are her committee assignments?" "Government Reform and Science," Fitz responded. "But I think she's slated for a spot on Budget because of her father and her connection to Buddy Phillips."

"Fitz, are you stalking her?"

"No, I'm just curious." He paused, embarrassed "I'm also on Government Reform; the Budget thing is just a rumor."

"With all the rumors floating around about her, I've got to meet this woman, and pronto," Charlotte put it succinctly. "Girlfriend needs damage control."

Char rose from her chair and walked with obvious purpose toward the table where Elizabeth and Charles were drinking coffee. She had just asked his opinion on proposed legislation before the transportation committee and he was ready with an opinion about scanning devices.

"Charles, good to see you again!" She pulled up a chair and sat down "How are things at the Policy Institute? Still related to that sister of yours? Won't you introduce me to your friend?" Charlotte's rapid-fire questions set the whole party at ease, even Fitz smiled from the table Charlotte had deserted.

"Well, everybody at the Policy Institute is fine, we miss you terribly," Charles began. "I keep hoping to hear of legislation that permits a person to divorce his siblings, but so far nothing has come across my desk; and this is Elizabeth Bennet, she represents Longbourn, Connecticut and a chunk of the rest of that state."

"I'm Charlotte Garza; I represent a teeny chunk of Los Angeles and my office is just down the hall from yours." The two women shook hands; Charlotte decided to play a little game "Have you met our colleague Fitz Darcy?" She didn't give Lizzy time to respond, but motioned to Fitz to join them. "And you, Elizabeth-May I call you Elizabeth?-you need a press secretary!"

"I need a lot of things," Lizzy admitted. "Including a date for the Inaugural Balls, otherwise I'll end up with my mother importing my cousin Marc."

At that very moment, Fitz materialized at their table. Without saying a word, Char congratulated herself for excellent, she might even say perfect timing. "Fitzwilliam Darcy, at your service. I can't think of a more dashing escort," Charlotte said. She kicked Charles under the table as she looked pointedly at him. "Can you, Charles?"

"Um, well. Dashing, That was just the word I was looking for," Charles was trying very hard to parse the latest turn of events, which had Rep. Garza asking Rep. Bennet if she wanted to go to the dance with Rep. Darcy. It was too much like high-school intrigues for Charles, and he struggled to respond with a straight face.

Elizabeth looked up at Fitz. He smiled gently as their eyes met. She didn't remember standing up, and yet there she stood, in front of Fitz Darcy. "I would be honored if you would come with me to the Inaugural Ball, Ms. Bennet" he said softly. He grasped her hand and bowed over it "I..." she started to answer. "I...um... What happened to me not being your type! Oh, I can't think. "I'd be delighted, Mr. Darcy."

Charlotte was speaking again, and the waiter had just brought the checks; Elizabeth had just accepted Fitz's invitation to the Inaugural Ball. Elizabeth knew that she needed to pay attention, but her mind would not allow it. It had run away with her to some faraway place where her only concern was...

They were on a beach someplace, someplace warm, just the two of them, she and Fitz. She felt the sun on her hair and the sand between her toes, and his arm around her waist. The air smelled of flowers and saltwater, birds squawked in the distance, and waves crashed on the shore. She couldn't remember a sky so blue anywhere else in the world. All at once she felt his arms around her as he gathered her up and bent his head to capture her lips. She was lost in his kiss...

"Are you all right?" Charles asked. "Lizzy?" The voices shook her back to the present, and she felt a deep flush overtake her whole body; she took a deep breath.

"Hmmm? I'm fine." She insisted. "I just got distracted. Sorry."

"I thought you had left us, for a second," Fitz said quietly. She looked back at him, he was helping Charlotte with her coat.

"I had, for a second." She looked straight into his eyes for a brief moment, then sauntered out of the restaurant; her smile widened with every step.

"I love it when a plan comes together," Charlotte whispered to Fitz, who could only gasp for breath.

"What was that all about?" Charles asked Elizabeth as she joined him on the walk back to her office building.

"I hardly know," she said, giggling just a little. Charles didn't understand the smile on her face. Come to think of it, I don't understand women at all. Policy, I understand. Women? Forget it!

That night, Lizzy called Jane to beg her to come to the Inaugural Ball.

"It'll be fun!" Lizzy insisted. Jane said she didn't want to. Too much work to do, both at home and at the office. "Besides, I don't have anything to wear, and more importantly I don't have a date."

"You worry about the dress," she said, fingering Charles Bingley's card. "I'll worry about the date."

At Pembroke House, the phone had been ringing and ringing. Fitz decided to pick up the call, though he wasn't sure he wanted to talk to anybody. What he really wanted was to know exactly what Elizabeth was thinking right after she accepted his invitation, but he knew the person on the other end of the line was unlikely to be the one person with whom he wanted to speak.

"Darcy here," he answered.

"Don't hang up; it's Charles." Both were silent for a moment.

"Look," Charles began. "I know you're mad at me, but I also know you followed us; and I guess you called Charlotte from outside so it would look as if you had a reason for being there."

"Very astute, Charles. I'm not really mad at you." Fitz said. "I'd be mad if Elizabeth had turned me down."

They both laughed. "Char really is a dynamo," Charles said. "She's definitely going to be one to watch in the next session... a born deal-maker." After the conversation had finished, Fitz went to bed happy for the first time in close to a month.

Chapter 6

A.N. This part was sort of inspired by a comment Judy-Lynne made in an e-mail about her Lizzy in the brilliant Fitzwilliam/Fitzwilliam being more human than some. I thought that was pretty cool. Also, she made me finish this part. Thanks.

Three days had passed since the lunch incident at Il Radicchio. In that time, Lizzy had seen nothing of her swain, nor had she heard a word. She supposed that Fitz's asking her at all was a gesture of politeness because their mutual friend Rep. Garza had put him on the spot.

She did not like to acknowledge that she was thrilled to be asked, and disappointed that he hadn't been in touch. It's silly, she told herself. I already know that he said I'm not his type. Why am I worrying about this at all. I'm just going to enjoy myself at the ball. And that's all there is to it. No matter what happens, I know I'll have the best looking date. Lizzy paused in her thought for a second as she felt her heart deflate and she sighed out loud. Even if he doesn't really like me. Of course he wouldn't like me... like that! His father was a Speaker of the House and his mother's family came over on the Mayflower. The Darcys are important, genteel people who spend their lives doing good work. Who am I? I'm not as beautiful and kind as Jane is; I'm not as dedicated as Marie; I'm just plain old Lizzy Bennet, who got lucky.

One thing she had always been able to do well was work hard, and she was determined to do right by the good people who had sent her to Congress, she thought as she buried her nose in a stack of legislation. She did not look up until her admin, Russell, buzzed from the front office. "Representative Garza is on line two for you, Representative Bennet." Russ was very formal, and Lizzy was grateful for that.

She thanked the young man and picked up the line. "Char, why didn't you call direct? You can, you know."

"I know, but it's good for your admin to know that we know each other. You never know when that might come in handy," Char said brightly. "In Washington, it's not what you know..."

"It's who you know." Lizzy completed the cliché for her.

Charlotte wanted to know if Lizzy had purchased a dress for the ball, which she had not.

"Great. Then you'll join me at Rizik's right after lunch," she insisted. "I have an appointment with a personal shopper, it's much nicer than prowling the racks. You're about a six, right?"

"Is that in my congressional file, or has somebody put my measurements on my web site?" Lizzy wondered.

"Ha! I worked in a bridal shop to put myself through UCLA; you get to know what size people are." Charlotte has had the most interesting, colorful life, Lizzy thought. I've never worked a real job in my life. As they rode up to the exclusive boutique a few blocks off Dupont Circle, Lizzy found herself alternately envying and admiring Charlotte for the way she seemed to take a bite out of life.

"You seem awfully quiet, Lizzy." Char ventured. "Don't tell me you're overworked already!"

"It's not that..." Lizzy trailed off. She wasn't sure she wanted to talk about her insecurities with anybody. Ordinarily she might have called her father, but it didn't seem right to bother him with whinings about her love life. Still, she was objective enough to know that if she let herself brood, she would go crazy within a day or two, and she couldn't afford that.

"Fitz hasn't called. I don't know what I expected..." she smiled wryly, poking fun at herself just a little. "I suppose I expected him to call."

Char was quiet for a second and appeared to be thinking. Lizzy wondered if her friend were going to pull out a phone and call Fitz to berate him for not calling. Lizzy swallowed hard. Perhaps she had made a terrible mistake in making Char her confidante.

"Fitz... how should I put this?" Char started. "I've known Fitz a long time. He doesn't have a great track record with women. I'm not sure he has the first clue how to 'treat a lady' if you know what I mean. I'm not really surprised that he hasn't called you."

"So, I shouldn't assume that he doesn't like me on the basis of his lack of communication?" Lizzy pondered.

"Good heavens, no!" Charlotte cried. I wonder how much I should say? Probably not much, but the poor thing looks almost desolate.

"I think that if you want to see Fitz before the Inaugural, you should call him," Char said.

"Funny, my grandmother said that I would probably have to help him along."

"You told your grandmother about Fitz already? Wow..."

"Well, not like that! My mother got a clipping with that terrible photograph of us, which means my whole family has seen it." Lizzy rolled her eyes and both women laughed as the cab pulled up to the corner of 17th Street and Connecticut Avenue NW to let them out.

Lizzy was happily surprised to see Jane in the waiting room when she and Char walked in. Jane had scheduled an appointment that began 15 minutes after Charlotte and Lizzy's, but Jane was very punctual, and she sat making notes in her Palm Pilot as the others saw her. It took less time than a handshake and an introduction to decide to combine the appointments.

Two personal shoppers led the three women into a well-appointed room furnished with comfortable chairs and low tables. A young woman took beverage orders, than brought a selection of fruit and cheeses along with little sandwiches and cookies. The shoppers had chosen a wide variety of dresses, and there were women known as mannequins who would try on for display, if they wanted.

After discussing the matter for a moment, they decided that they would take turns trying on dresses.

Jane's first choice was an ivory sheath, heavily beaded with a low neck, a built-in bra and long sleeves.

"You look just like Mama, just add the sash and crown and about three dozen pink roses," Lizzy marveled at her sister. On that comment alone, Jane rejected the dress. She wanted something considerably more subtle. Charlotte considered trying the ivory, but first she tried a deep navy ball skirt with a matching beaded twin set.

She twirled around for her new friends. "Is this a little too Junior League for a girl from East L.A.?"

"It's a little too last year for you, Charlotte." Jane remarked. She had liked Charlotte instantly. "You need something more forward. Leave that one for a matron."

Lizzy was still looking. There was a moss green gown in velvet and mesh that caught her eye, but she thought it might be too fussy. Charlotte and Jane had each modeled several other gowns before Lizzy had tried even one. Lizzy asked how they liked a plain black dress she held up.

"There is no way on earth I'm going to let you wear black, Liz." Jane stated firmly.

"Listen to your sister," Charlotte concurred. "You'll be with Fitz Darcy, so people are going to be looking at you. You need to be impressive."

Finally Jane went over to the rack of dresses and pulled one out. "This," she said. "This is it."

She was right.

Each of the women bought a gown and considered accessories. Jane found shoes that coordinated perfectly, and Charlotte said she already had shoes, but she was going to ask her mother to ship her gold flamenco combs overnight as a tribute to her Spanish heritage.

Jane knew a makeup artist from a wedding she'd been in, Charlotte placed a call to Greg, her very dependable hairdresser and he agreed to do their hair. They agreed that it would be a good idea to reserve a suite at the Ritz-Carlton for the purposes of primping and dressing for the ball. Jane and Charlotte wanted to have cocktails at DC Coast before heading home, but Lizzy had another idea and sent them on their way.

She stood in the foyer of Rizik's and dialed before she lost her courage.

"Hi Fitz. It's..." she said with her voice full of hope.

"Elizabeth." His voice was rough, as if he'd been caught off guard by her call.

"So, I was wondering..."

"Yes?"

"Would you like to join me for dinner?"

"You're asking me out?" Elizabeth thought she had shocked him. This wasn't going as planned.

"Elizabeth, are you still there?" he asked. I am so stupid. The girl of my dreams calls to ask me to dinner and I can't get it together to say yes.

"I'd love to have dinner with you," He stammered. "Shall I stop by your office and go from there?"

"No," she said, smiling at last. "I'll stop by yours. After all, I asked you."

They agreed, and Lizzy walked out into the cool evening feeling warmer than she had in about three days.

Chapter 7

Jane ordered an Irish Coffee; Charlotte ordered a Cosmopolitan.

"I don't always prefer silly drinks, but with all those dresses I'm feeling particularly girlish," Charlotte said as they settled into a table at downtown DC's swankest watering hole.

Jane smiled, but got right to the point. "I understand my sister has you to thank for her date to the ball."

Char bubbled over with laughter. "Funny to hear it that way. I would have said that Fitz was the one who should thank me. He's crazy about your sister and didn't have the nerve to ask her himself." She related the whole story of the Lunch Incident, and Jane revealed that Lizzy remained in the dark about the level of her suitor's affection.

"I got that impression this afternoon," Char said. "What a tangled up pair of workaholics."

Jane told Charlotte that Lizzy had been interested in politics since early childhood, and that she hadn't dated much in school, preferring student government and unofficially working with their father.

"There have been a few boyfriends, but no one she ever talked about much. Mostly they were just arm decoration. I'm not sure that Lizzy knows how to balance her career and a serious relationship," Jane said.

"Sounds exactly like Fitz," Char sighed and took another sip of her drink. "Well, I told her she was going to have to take the next step. I told her to call him. Do you think she will?"

"I don't know. Knowing Lizzy she's out shopping for shoes to go with that dress right now. There are a lot of good shoe stores around Dupont Circle." Jane reached for a miniature crab cake.

Across town, Lizzy walked into Fitz's office. She was as nervous as she could ever remember being. That seemed to be happening all too often since she and Fitz met. He came around his desk and they stood together for a moment, gazing at each other.

"I'm so glad you called," he said at last.

"I realized, as I was walking up here, that I haven't got a big evening planned for you," she said without meeting his eyes again. "I mean, I asked you out, and I have no idea where we should go. It was just a spur of the moment thing."

"We could walk up to one of the pubs on Penn. Would that be all right?" she asked, biting her lower lip as she waited for his answer.

It didn't matter to him where they went or how they got there, as long as he was going with her. They left his office and he reached down and took her hand in his as they stepped into the elevator. She allowed herself a few seconds to look into his deep brown eyes before she said "I'm glad I called, too."

They walked up Capitol Hill, basking in the warm light from the street lamps and in the pleasure of holding hands. Unknown to the other, both Fitz and Lizzy felt that they were the only two people in the world right then.

The Hawk and Dove was a Washington institution: dark wood, Motown on the jukebox, decent burgers and a wide selection of beers. It didn't have the same kind of kitschy décor as the Tune Inn, which renowned for its collection of hunting and fishing trophies, but the Hawk had better food and a couple of back rooms that might not be full of beer-swilling college students. If either Fitz or Lizzy had imagined their first date, neither would have daydreamed about grabbing a burger at the Hawk.

As they settled into a cozy booth tucked into an alcove to the left of the bar-the small table was adorned with salt and pepper shakers, a half-empty ketchup bottle and a stubby candle in a glass holder covered with plastic netting-neither of them thought the Hawk was anything less than perfect.

Charlotte would have asked about Jane's love life, but she knew a little bit from Lizzy, enough to understand it was a sensitive subject. Instead, she waved across the room at an attractive blond man. Jane thought he looked like a frat boy who'd grown up and got a real job. He had a great smile, she noticed. Not bad.

"Elliot Williamson, you never call me any more!" Charlotte pouted playfully. She turned to Jane to explain a bit. "El is yet another of my reprobate classmates from Harvard. I think we're all in Washington in one capacity or another; his capacity is legal counsel to the House Ways and Means committee, which makes him quite the man about town. He's distantly related to Fitz Darcy, but then Darcy is related to just about everybody. I can't get over how well connected that family is."

Char stopped for a breath. "Speaking of well connected; El, this lovely creature is Jane Bennet, of the Brookings Institution and the Connecticut Bennets, and currently she's Buddy Phillips niece."

Elliot flashed a smile. "Any current niece of Buddy Phillips is..." He stopped and smiled again, looking directly at Jane, extending a hand in greeting. "Very beautiful," he finished.

"I thank you for the compliment, sir, on behalf of me and my four sisters." Jane blushed as she shook his hand, and hoped her companions couldn't tell in the low light. Charlotte asked Elliot to join them, and he immediately agreed.

Char was busy scanning the bar for familiar faces; when she spotted one and quickly excused herself from the table, Elliot and Jane were left to amuse each other.

"So, how do you know Fitz?" he asked her.

"I don't, exactly, but he and my sister, Lizzy are... It's hard to say what they are."

"I see," Elliot thought that if Lizzy Bennet looked anything like her sister, the news photo hadn't done her justice. Of course, Fitz had made a few cryptic remarks about the girl of his dreams being out of his reach in the most ironic way. "Well, whatever it is, I hope it works out for them," Elliot concluded. "I much prefer my friends and relations happy and well satisfied."

"I couldn't agree with you more," Jane said. Elliot Williamson was as charming as he was handsome. She was definitely not sorry to have made his acquaintance.

"And how do you know Char?" Elliot continued his line of questioning.

"Are you cross-examining me, counselor?" Jane asked.

"No, no Ms. Bennet, I just like hearing you talk." Char observed the flirtation from across the restaurant and continued to work the room.

"Well, I ran into her at Rizik's today, we were shopping for ball gowns at the same time," Jane said. "I guess you could say this has been a good day for meeting people."

"Speaking of balls, it's probably silly of me to ask so late, but are you going to the Inaugurals with any one?" Elliot didn't look the least bit bashful as he showed a dimple.

Jane responded that so far, she was going alone. "It just so happens that I am also without a date for the night of the 20th," he smiled again. "We could always go together, what do you say?"

Nothing would please her more, Jane thought. And she said so.

Charlotte approached with another man on her arm. "George, good to see you again. Loved your book," Elliot said, shaking the newcomer's hand. The man nodded and offered his hand to Jane. "George Stephanopolous. I know we've met, but I can't place you." he asked her.

She reintroduced herself. "You came to see me once about a study I wrote, while you were still at the White House, I believe," said Jane.

"I can't tell you how impressed I am that you remember me," he remarked.

"As if I could forget! You were in my office something like four hours quizzing me about details," she recalled. "I was quite the envy of all the women I worked with, and probably some of the men."

The conversation went well and the party of four decided to move on to dinner. George, being the member with the most celebrity, was charged with getting them a table.

"I have to say," Fitz began over a generous plate of chili-cheese fries. "I don't think I've ever been asked out on a real date before."

"Really?" Elizabeth was interested. "I'd think you would have women lined up on your doorstep."

"How do I say this without sounding like the king of arrogance?" he wondered. "I get a fair amount of attention from the ladies, but none of them want to have dinner with me. Washington's more about 'association' then dating." He paused to smile and look at her. "Now, sitting here with you, a couple of beers and a plate of fries, this feels like a date that a normal couple would have."

They looked at each other, surprised and pleased at once. Couple. Had he really just said that?

"Are we a..." she began.

"Couple?" he finished.

"Well, I was going to say 'normal,' we must be a couple since we're trying to finish each other's sentences."

He reached over the table and slid his fingers over hers, finally lacing them in between and pressing their palms together. The gesture was unmistakable. Mick Jagger wailed in the background, but the music seemed to get a little louder as the Stones finished a chorus.

But if you try sometime... you might find... you get what you need. The drumbeat came in right on cue. Fitz lifted Lizzy's hand and softly kissed the knuckles; Lizzy felt as though her seat had dropped out from under her. Neither of them noticed that a young woman stood next to their table.

"I think he likes you," the waitress remarked, clicking her pen in time with the song. "Now are you ready to order?"

Fitz struggled to maintain his composure as he ordered a burger with bacon, cheese and onions. Lizzy decided on the fish and chips, not to mention another round.

Dinner at DC Coast had a completely different tone. On a trip to the ladies' room, Char congratulated Jane on her new conquests. "I say you've captivated two of the most... the best men in Washington in one fell swoop. I'm in awe of you, Jane Bennet."

"Dearest Charlotte, you're the expert on the best men in Washington. I couldn't go in for the kill unless I had you to find them for me," Jane said in mock insincerity. "We make an excellent team." They walked back to their table arm in arm. Somebody had taken care of the check and the party moved on, and on, and on. Around 11, Char and George disappeared. Neither Elliot nor Jane could remember where their companions said they were going next.

Da da da hmmmm hmmm hmmm might come true... la la laElliot had been half humming, half singing the same song for several minutes. Though he tried, he couldn't remember all the words to "Wouldn't It Be Nice" by the Beach Boys. So they wandered into DCCD, which stayed open until 2 a.m. on weekend nights for just such folly. "Maybe we can find you a copy of Pet Sounds," she said.

"Here we go! Now all we need is something to play this on," Elliot quipped.

"There's a CD player at my place," Jane surprised herself a little. "Come on." Elliot had been hoping for just such a reaction. He was inordinately pleased as he hailed a cab.

The night grew later and later. Most of the Hawk's patrons had gone, and Fitz could see the bartender looking at his watch. "I think they'd like us to go home," Fitz said. He didn't want the night to end. Everything had been so easy and natural, yet spiced with the thrill of discovery.

"May I walk you home, Miss Elizabeth," he asked as he offered his arm. She was utterly charmed as left the pub and walked up North Carolina Avenue. They didn't talk. It was a cold night that would have been bitter if the wind had picked up, so they walked quickly. Within a few minutes, they turned on to Seventh.

"This is my street!" she exclaimed. "How did you know."

He was a little embarrassed to admit that the Hursts had tipped him off on Christmas Day. They passed by Pembroke House, and he pointed out his residence. She tried to insist that she could walk the last block by herself, but he would not hear of it.

"Door to door service, I insist." She was very glad. Elizabeth did not want the night to be over any more than Fitz did, and this thought played on her mind as they neared her place. "This one's mine," she said, stopping outside the iron gate.

"But we haven't reached the door." Fitz pushed the gate open and followed her up the walk. He stood behind her on the steps as she fumbled for her house keys. Finally, she turned to face him. The difference in steps put them nose to nose.

"I had..." she began

"A wonderful evening," he finished as he admired how her eyes sparkled in the porch light. The moment of truth had arrived. He smoothed a curl out of her face and caressed her cheek with his fingers; she inhaled sharply. It seemed that she found his shoes absolutely fascinating at that moment.

Fitz moved his hand along her jaw line, under her chin; ever so slowly he tilted her face to his. They stared into each other's eyes, quite lost for a long moment. As he moved closer, Elizabeth let go of the breath she had been holding. He closed his eyes, taking her face in both his hands, and their lips met. His were strong, yet gentle; hers were soft, so very soft. Their cheeks brushed together as he breathed in the fragrance of her hair in the winter night. She sagged against him as she sought to recover her senses.

"Don't worry," he whispered. "I've got you." They were quiet for a few moments until he took her keys, opened her front door and ushered her inside, shutting the door behind her.

She stood in her bay window; he turned as he reached the gate, in time to see her blow him another kiss. He reached out as if to grab it and press it to his heart.

"Yes," she said to herself. Yes you have."

Continued In Next Section