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Chapter 27

En route to England...

The horses' hooves beat a steady staccato as they raced their way down the weather-beaten roads leading to Calais. John Coachman had strict instructions that they were to travel to the French seaside post-haste. Not a minute was to be spared. He cracked his whip and the horses lowered their necks, and pumped their legs a little faster. They were completely absorbed in their task as they huffed and puffed their way to the French coast where a packet was waiting to ferry the carriage's passenger back to Dover, England.

Inside the carriage, Darcy sat staring out the window. To an outside observer, he looked relaxed and complacent as always with his right leg crossed negligently over his left. A more observant person, however, would have noted that his gloves were stretched taut in between his hands, and his lips were pressed thin.

The passing beauty of the French countryside went completely unnoticed. When Darcy looked out the window, he saw not the quaint villages with their whitewashed cottages and straw thatched roofs, but the piercing gaze of a pair of fine eyes. It seemed impossible, yet they shined even more brightly than the night before when they had stared back at him from the water fountain in his haunting dream. They were so close and so familiar. It was as if he'd be able to touch them if he would only reach out with his hands.

It was amazing how real and how lifelike they appeared before him despite the fact that he had not seen them for over a decade. He still remembered the way they had looked the last time he had seen them. It had been at Charles and Jane Bingley's wedding. They had stood across from one another, the Bingley's sleigh standing between them. Along with the rest of the wedding party, they had waved good-bye to the newlyweds. When the sleigh had pulled away and nothing stood between them anymore, Elizabeth had turned briefly his way and for the first time that day, briefly allowed her gaze to rest on him. The smile leftover from her sister's happiness still lingered on her face, but it was a smile that did not reach her eyes. And one that quickly turned into a frown.

Any hope that Darcy might have had at having another chance was dashed at that moment. He had failed his beloved and he was to suffer the consequences. He'd left Hertfordshire that very afternoon, but the memory of her eyes had stayed with him forever.

During the months that followed the Bingley's marriage it seemed to Darcy that her eyes would forever haunt his memories. The pain was sharp, the loss poignant, and he'd tried many times to obliterate the image with some very fine French brandy. Eventually, it was the knowledge that he had responsibilities and had to keep on living that pulled him out of his hole.

As Darcy had moved on with his life, the pain had lessened and the loss became bearable, until his second chance at life died and the pain from the loss of two women had intermingled and left him forever stamped with bitterness.

And now, the eyes he'd forced himself to never think about were haunting him again. Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, Darcy pondered his latest in a string of disturbing dreams. It was not the first time he had had such a dream. They had been plaguing him for the past several weeks now, ever since he'd thought he'd seen Anne running through the streets of Paris. Darcy knew that they were all interconnected somehow and that if he could unravel the puzzle, he'd be able to make sense out of them.

Up until the most recent dream, they were largely insubstantial. Usually, Darcy was running around, searching for something, searching for Anne, always hunting for an object that remained out of his reach. The frustration and impatience were always present. And he always woke up more exhausted than when he'd gone to bed. In fact, they were so disturbing that Darcy had come to loathe going to bed.

His most recent dream was different from all the others that had come before; it had brought new revelations. And they had shamed him.

After all these years, it had taken a dream for him to see that his wife had been in love with him. Perhaps he had always known it and chosen not to acknowledge it instead. Perhaps it he had done so because it was easier that way.

Anne had been so accepting and trusting. Even though she knew her husband loved another, she also trusted that he would always be kind to her and protect her, she had never once doubted his constancy. With a sudden self-disgust, Darcy felt like he had betrayed her. He had never given her a chance. And as if he had been dealt a double blow, Darcy saw that he was a horribly selfish man.

From the very beginning, he had acted selfishly. The first time Darcy had met Elizabeth Bennet, he had been affected. It disturbed him for no other woman had wielded a comparable effect over him as she did. Yet, she was undesirable, her connections lacking, and her family shocking. To protect himself from her charms, Darcy had done the selfish thing. He had been undeniably rude. And still that was not enough to deflect the strong pull of attraction that he felt. Drawn to her, spellbound by her, Darcy had sought her company in spite of himself. He had not considered her emotions; he considered only those of his own. When given a second chance, he had grabbed onto it greedily. And when it had lost it again, he had succumbed to his own grief. Sparing no thought to the emotions of those around him, such as his sister and cousin, he had sunk into his own despair. He had been selfish. He had let them worry and grieve for him without ever letting them care about him and share his pain.

Marrying Anne had been another selfish act. At the time, he had thought he was doing a gracious act. It was a match his aunt favored, and his cousin had seemed more than willing to leave her home for his. He had thought he was doing both a favor. But now, Darcy saw it for what it really had been - selfishness.

He knew he had to marry, he had lost his one true love, and he had taken advantage of the next best thing simply because it had been convenient for him. And when Anne had died, leaving behind a son, he had left him in the care of others, telling himself that it was better for the child. For, what child would possibly want a father like him? He had never stopped to consider though, what child would not want a father? It had been pure selfishness that had driven him away from his son's side. Rather than accepting the challenge of raising a son and providing him with the home and care that a child required, Darcy had run away and convinced himself that it was all for the best. How wrong he had been. In failing Colin, he had once again failed Anne. It was in this vein that Darcy traveled back to England.

Full of self-loathing, Darcy wondered how he was ever going to make it back to Pemberley. He wondered how he could dare to show his face to Colin, Georgiana, and Richard. Though he might have considered the prospect to be worse than hell, Darcy was determined. If anything, it would be his punishment and his first step to finally making things right.

At least, he hoped it wasn't too late to correct his past mistakes.

Derbyshire, England...

It was a mere matter of days until the Anniversary Ball, and Pemberley was in the final throes of preparation. Not a single body, from the grooms to the scullery maids, was spared. Like the Duke of Wellington at Waterloo, Mrs. Reynolds had her staff marching in time, ensuring that no table end went undusted and all the had been flung open to air out and scoured clean. She had also overseen the making of every bed ensuring that those guests fortunate enough to have been invited to stay at Pemberley as well as to the Ball would pass a restful night under Pemberley's roof on crisp, fresh linens.

As the days drew nearer to when the cream of London's society would soon descend upon them like vultures, Georgiana grew increasingly agitated.

"If I knew how wound up you would be, I would have put my foot down and refused you to throw this party," the Colonel told his wife one morning.

"I am not wound up," Georgiana staunchly denied. "I am merely beset by all the tiny details that I have yet to go over. Oh, where is Mrs. Reynolds?"

The good Colonel quickly grabbed the end of his wife's sash before she could go bolting out of the breakfast room. "For goodness sakes wife, at least have the decency to feed your body before you go tearing about the house sending everyone into an uproar."

"I don't have time to eat this morning, Richard. There are too many things to accomplish, to many details to oversee."

When the Colonel still refused to let go of her sash, she wiggled around and demanded her release. "Let me go, Richard. This is no time to play around."

It was thus that Elizabeth found the husband and the wife, who dangled from the end of her sash. It was all that Elizabeth could do to stifle her sudden fit of giggles. Georgiana was overjoyed to see Elizabeth, believing that an ally had come to her aid. "Ah, good-morning Elizabeth. Will you please tell Richard how much we have to do today and make him let go of me?"

Elizabeth shook her head and demurred, "I will not get in the middle of your quarrels." She sat down to her tea, crumpets and raspberry preserve, and said nothing; she just watched the play unfold.

Richard reeled his wife in like a fish at the end of a fishing pole, and then standing, pushed her over to her chair and sat her down. When she would have stood up, he gently shoved her back into place. "Sit." Then, returning with a filled breakfast plate, he set it down in front of her and said, "Eat."

Resigned, Georgiana polished off her place. But, as she exited the breakfast room, she could not resist turning around at the last minute and sticking her tongue out at her husband. The Colonel merely smiled behind his sheaf of papers and gave himself a mental pat on the back.

The gesture was precipitous. Georgiana came back to the breakfast room to remind her husband that the first of their guests would be arriving that day. The Colonel rallied at the news, but it was obvious he was not happy. He'd been in denial for so long that for a while it had seemed to be nothing more than a bad dream. The reality, however, was rapidly settling in. In a few days, nay hours, he would be playing host to a gaggle of guests.

Elizabeth, guessing the Colonel's thoughts, said consolingly, "You are a very good husband. Georgiana is fortunate to have such an indulgent husband."

"Let us hope that she agrees with you," the Colonel sighed. "If you will excuse me, I'd better go and make sure that us gentlemen will have plenty to do while you ladies congregate to gossip, or whatever else it is that you women do when you get together."

Hurrying away from the house to seek refuge in the Secret Garden with the children, Elizabeth sighed with relief. The house was currently abuzz with overflowing excitement as the guests looked forward to the impending Anniversary Ball. Elizabeth had never known that a house party could be so much work. The Moffets, thank goodness, had never been big entertainers. Elizabeth's mind was still swirling from all the people she had met over the course of the past two days. It boggled the mind to think that still more guests would arrive on the night of the Ball. Elizabeth already felt as though the entire English population was residing at Pemberley.

For the most part, Elizabeth had enjoyed meeting the Fitzwilliams' guests, even if she had felt a tad uncomfortable moving amongst their circle. There was a time when Elizabeth would not have cared one whit about what the ton thought of her. Though they were the crème de la crème of English society, they could have looked down on her and whispered censures behind their hands and still Elizabeth would not have batted an eye. After all, her father was a gentleman and she a gentleman's daughter.

Circumstances had changed, though. She was still a gentleman's daughter, but she was also a governess. Elizabeth was too well bred to not be aware of what the fashionable ton thought about those that had to work in order to earn a living.

Elizabeth recognized a few of the guests from her tenure as the Moffet's governess, but that was about it. Fortunately, if any of the guests remembered seeing her when visiting the Moffet's townhouse in London and were surprised to see her as a special family guest of the Darcy's and Fitzwilliam's, they were too polite to enquire.

All except for one.

Caroline Bingley had no qualms about expressing her astonishment at finding Elizabeth residing at Pemberley. Descending upon the house as if she were its mistress, Miss Bingley had swept grandly up the front stairs and landed with great aplomb in the foyer. Struggling to stifle a giggle and trying very hard to not look at Mrs. Reynolds, Georgiana had welcomed Caroline Bingley to Pemberley with as much dignity as she could muster on the occasion.

"It is so wonderful to be back at Pemberley, my dear Georgiana," Caroline Bingley said grandly as she took off her traveling bonnet.

"It is nice to see you again, Caroline. Welcome to Pemberley," Georgiana answered in a much more subdued manner. "I hope you will be comfortable during your stay."

"Oh, I daresay I shall," Miss Bingley answered, imagining how she would enjoy having the servants at Pemberley at her beck and call; it would be almost as if she really were their mistress.

"My," she continued as let her eyes gaze sweepingly throughout the house, "so many changes since my last visit!" Georgiana wondered how many years ago that had been. Surely her brother had not invited her to the house since Anne's death. She knew that Caroline Bingley was not one of her brother's favorite persons.

"The house looks lovely, Georgiana. No doubt this is to your credit. I always said that Pemberley needed a woman's touch." She said it in such a tone as to leave no doubt as to which woman's touch she thought was needed.

"Yes, well, I thank you," Georgiana coughed. "I think."

Caroline Bingley swept around abruptly and facing Georgiana said in what she thought was a most magnanimous gesture, "You are no doubt preoccupied with the preparations for your Ball, Georgiana. I hope that we are friends enough that you would feel not feel uneasy calling upon me to assist you in any way that I can."

"I..." Georgiana did not know what to say.

"I daresay that should the need arise, I could entertain your guests well enough while you saw to other matters. For certainly our friends would know how close our families have always been."

The hint was there, and Georgiana's spine stiffened. "I thank you for the gesture, Caroline. I shall keep it in mind, but I doubt the need shall arise. But I thank you all the same. Speaking of other guests, I see I have several more coming up the drive this very moment. I best be on my way. Martha, here, can take you to your room. Your luggage has already been delivered. If you'd like to freshen up from your travels, we will be taking tea shortly."

Without waiting for an answer, Georgiana hurried to greet the latest arrivals. It was at this juncture that Caroline literally ran into Elizabeth. She was still smarting from Georgiana's gentle rebuff when she ran headlong into Elizabeth, who was rounding the corner and had no idea that Caroline Bingley had been invited let alone arrived.

As the two women bumped into one another Elizabeth dropped the book she had been carrying. "I beg your pardon," she said, and immediately knelt down to pick it up without looking to see who the other person was.

Believing the meek young lady to be one of the servants, Caroline Bingley was ready to continue to her quarters. It was only upon noticing the fine quality of the young lady's dress that she hesitated and turned back. As the young lady straightened, there was something familiar in her gait. With horror, Caroline Bingley realized that it was none other than Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Hertfordshire. How shocking to find her at Pemberley!

"Why, Miss Eliza, what a surprise it is to find you here!"

Elizabeth stiffened upon hearing the voice and especially at that hated nomenclature. Gritting her teeth, she turned around slowly. "Miss Bingley, what a pleasure it is to see you again after all these years. It is still Miss Bingley is it not?" Elizabeth asked shamelessly, knowing from her sister's letter that Caroline Bingley's perennial single state was a deep source of bitterness.

To hear Caroline Bingley tell the story, she was still single because she could not bear to marry a man whom she did not think worthy enough, and she was too afraid that men would flock to her because of her independent wealth. Everyone else, however, knew better. Everyone else knew that there was no amount of money in the world that would persuade a man to attach himself to her and her biting tongue forever.

"Yes it is," Caroline Bingley answered stiffly, "As I believe it is still Miss Bennet?" Elizabeth nodded her head and conceded the point.

"How strange it is to find you here of all places. I had heard tell that you were earning your living as a governess somewhere in the north." Somewhere far away from the Darcy's, she added to herself mentally.

"Not at all," Elizabeth answered, holding her hands in front of her primly. "I suppose your brother mentioned to you that I had taken a position with the Moffet's. I believe you are acquainted with Mrs. Moffet a little; you went to school with her, did you not? You would have known her as Michele Knightley."

Elizabeth knew that they had and that her employer disliked Miss Bingley with great intensity, which was amazing because Mrs. Moffet got along with most everybody.

Caroline Bingley shrugged her shoulder as if to indicate that there was simply too many people in her life to keep track of. Therefore, she took notice only if the individual would be of use to her, and clearly Mrs. Moffet was not.

"The Moffet's have gone to Scotland for the summer. Georgiana kindly invited me to Pemberley so that I could visit with our niece, Mary."

Caroline Bingley raised her eyebrow at such familiarity between Elizabeth and Georgiana. That did not bode well for her. As if knowing that she was being spoken about, Mary seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"Oh, there you are, Aunt Elizabeth. Colin was just asking if you had found that book he wanted."

Upon noticing that they weren't alone, she said, "I beg your pardon. I didn't realize that you were talking with someone." Turning to Caroline Bingley, she studied the new arrival and with a child's frankness asked, "How do you do? You must be one of Aunt Georgiana's guests. I am Mary Bingley. Who are you?"

"This is your Aunt Caroline Bingley," Elizabeth told her niece.

"Oh!" Mary's eyes grew round. "I did not know you were coming. Did you?" she turned and looked to Elizabeth.

"No," Elizabeth shook her head. "I did not. Your Aunt Georgiana must have forgotten to mention it to us."

Obviously not appreciating the notion that she had not even warranted a mentioning, Caroline Bingley turned away and said, "I daresay we shall plenty of time to catch up later, Miss Eliza. If you will excuse me, I really must freshen up."

"Of course. I look forward to your company."

To Mary, Miss Bingley added, "I trust you will grace me with an audience later when I have the time."

Amazed that an aunt could be so callous, it took some physical prodding on Elizabeth's part before Mary was shaken out of her stupor so that she could curtsey and say, "Of course, Aunt Caroline, whatever you wish."

Once she was out of earshot, Mary whirled around and demanded to know, "Did you see that, Aunt Elizabeth? Is she truly my aunt?"

"I did, and yes she is."

Mary groaned. "But she's such a... witch!" she finally said.

"Mary Elizabeth Bingley," Elizabeth admonished. "I will not have you speaking about your relatives like that." Even if it is true...

"Come along, Dickon and Colin have likely wondered where we have gone off to. We'd best return with this book."

"Will I have to spend time with her?" Mary asked as she skipped alongside her aunt.

"If she asks," Elizabeth qualified. "She is your father's sister. It will good be good for you to become acquainted with her."

"Will you come with me to see her if I have to?"

Elizabeth sighed resignedly. She had no great desire to spend any more time than necessary with Caroline Bingley, but for her niece she would do anything. "If you wish it."

"Good," Mary hugged her aunt. "Then I shan't mind it as much. You're my favorite aunt!"

The spiteful encounter from the previous day still made Elizabeth want to seethe. Being outdoors helped put things in perspective though. It was a beautiful summer day. Elizabeth marveled at Georgiana's luck in picking such a fine week to have her house party and ball. All it took was the breath of fresh air and the sounds of happy children just up ahead and all of Elizabeth's stress washed away, totally forgotten.

When Elizabeth entered the garden through its hidden side door, she found the children intent upon a game of kickball. They were ecstatic to see Elizabeth.

"Miss Bennet!" Colin called out from across the garden where he was in the middle of a running kick. "Come and play with us, please?"

Laughing with pleasure, Elizabeth agreed and then caught the ball easily.

Darcy pulled his horse to a grinding halt and leapt effortlessly down from his horse. He'd ridden neck and leather from Dover to get back to Derbyshire as soon as possible. He'd had another dream while on the packet from Calais to Dover and it had left him with the niggling feeling that something was not right at Derbyshire. He wasn't sure what it was, but he was almost positive that things were not normal, and that it involved the garden he'd had sealed a long time ago. Upon reaching Dover, Darcy had hired a horse to bring him home and left strict instructions for his valet, who was to follow along in a carriage with the rest of his things.

Now that he was finally back at Pemberley, there was no time to be lost. The questions were pounding increasingly harder in the back of his head and the answers were within his reach. Throwing the reins to a confused-looking stable boy, who'd hurried up to the house when he'd spotted a man on a horse riding furiously up the long drive.

Darcy hurled some cursory instructions for the stable boy before mounting the grandiose steps to his home two at a time. Georgiana and the Colonel, having heard a commotion from where they were chatting in the morning room, came out into the hallway only to watch Darcy sweep past them.

"Brother!" Georgiana called out in surprise, "You have finally arrived! I can't believe you actually made it! But, of course, I always knew you would not disappoint me."

Her outstretched arms went unhugged when Darcy called back to his little sister, "Not now, not now, Georgiana. I have a most pressing matter to attend to." Darcy went scurrying into the library and slammed the shut door behind him, completely ignoring his sister, brother-in-law, and all the other guests that he knew had to be around somewhere.

Georgiana turned to her husband and shared with him a stupefied expression. "Poor Georgiana," her husband cooed, "I don't think you've ever been so thoroughly snubbed before. And by your own brother too! You poor thing, here, let me hug you instead."

For his troubles, Georgiana gave him a sharp jab in the side with her elbow. "Whatever could my brother be about?" she asked.

Like a crazed man, Darcy's hands scrambled along the spines of age-worn books searching for the book he desperately sought. Darcy's brows furrowed when he realized that the book was not where he had last crammed it, thereby confirming his worst fears that someone might have found the key.

A surreptitious search of the book-lined walls led him to one of the lower shelves. Hands shaking, Darcy reached for the book that had drawn him back to Pemberley like a lodestone and tugged it out of place. As it had ever since Darcy had hidden the key within its creases, the book automatically cracked open to the pages that had for so long been the caretaker of Darcy's most intimate secret.

Darcy almost screamed when he did not find his key. He checked the left page and read the title of the poem, When We Two Parted. Darcy did not need to read the rest of the lines; he'd memorized it a long time ago, its words having been forever etched into his memory.

While the poem was not surprisingly still within the book's leather bound covers, the key was glaringly absent. Darcy snapped the book shut, seething with something though he knew not what. On an impulse, he turned the book upside down and shook out the pages hard. Still, no key dropped out of it.

"Damn!" Darcy slammed the book down onto a nearby side table, sending a sheaf of papers flying every which way. Someone had found her garden and was no doubt enjoying it right at that very moment. The thought of someone desecrating such a sacred place made Darcy's blood boil. When he found the intruder, Darcy would not spare the person any mercy. The intruder would surely be made to pay for his or her interference. People should know better than to stick their noses where they did not belong. And people should definitely know better than to cross the master of Pemberley.

Hell-bent fury carved into his every feature, Darcy stormed out of the library. Every stride he made towards the Secret Garden was accompanied by a litany of oaths and curses.

The slamming doors one right after another once again caught Georgiana and the Colonel's attention. Once more they came out into the hallway. This time Mrs. Reynolds also appeared from the other side of the foyer. They all watched as the back of Pemberley's master stormed his way towards the garden. The power of his displeasure could be felt even from their distance.

"What was that all about?" Mrs. Reynolds asked breathlessly having run all the way from the basement where she had been consulting with the wine steward.

The corners of Georgiana's mouth rose only fractionally. "I think, Mrs. Reynolds, that we are about to be treated to a drama."

As she pulled her husband back into the morning room to finish their discussion about whether they could dispose of the infamous Caroline Bingley, who was currently sending all the guests towards premature madness, the Colonel followed her meekly but with a shaking head. He had a sixth sense feeling that things were not going to be as easy as Georgiana had envisioned.

Chapter 28

The children and Elizabeth raised their heads and, shading their eyes from the penetrating glare of the sunlight, watched with dismay as their shiny red ball went flying over the wall of the garden.

"Oops," Colin said. "I think I kicked it too hard."

"That's all right," Elizabeth soothed. "I think it is wonderful the way your legs are gaining so much strength. Imagine, a few months ago, you could not even kick at all. Now look how much you have improved."

"If you kick it out of bounds, you have to fetch the ball," Mary told him. "Those are the rules we agreed upon."

"No, that's all right, Mary. You children stay where you are. I'll go and fetch the ball," Elizabeth volunteered.

She exited the garden and looked left and right and all around, searching high and low for the red ball. The ball was nowhere to be found. Elizabeth kept walking until she approached an old oak tree, which neighbored the garden wall. Standing in its wide berth of shade, Elizabeth stood perplexedly as she wondered where the ball could have gone.

A robin screeched loudly, penetrating her thoughts. Elizabeth looked up and there, stuck in between the angle of two branches was perched the missing, red ball. Elizabeth picked up a piece of rock, throwing it up into the air towards the ball. Missing her target, she tried again and again. When she finally made contact, she found that the ball was firmly lodged in between the branches and would not be easily moved. She needed something bigger to throw and she needed to use more force.

Fortunately, not too far away from the tree, Elizabeth found a long and heavy piece of fallen wood. Stepping back, she swung her arm in a wide arc and flung the wood towards the ball with as much strength and force as she could muster. Her efforts were met with success and the ball went flying forward out of the tree, but the force of her throw caused Elizabeth to lose her footing and she fell backwards, landing hard on the dirt-ridden ground.

The impact of the throw left her momentarily stunned until she saw that the red ball was rolling away from her. Hurrying to her feet, Elizabeth rearranged her twisted skirt and brushed away the dirt. Then she continued after the ball, which had continued to roll across the lawn, down the slope, towards the pond.

"Oh no! Please, please, please, do not let the ball fall into the water!"

Elizabeth picked up her skirts and flew across the lawn, following the ball. She had just about caught up with the red ball when a tiny rock embedded in the ground tripped her. Falling over, face first, Elizabeth landed thankfully on her hands.

"Ugh! This is so not my day!" Elizabeth grunted.

She looked up just in time to watch the ball go flying over the edge of the grass and land in the middle of the pond with a ceremonious splash.

Flopping over onto her back, Elizabeth looked up at the sun and clenched the grass beside her. Ripping the bunch of green blades out of the ground, Elizabeth groaned. "Now what?"

Standing up and rubbing her backside, Elizabeth walked over to the water's edge. She could not find a tree branch that would be long enough to reach the ball. Unless an actual person waded into the pond, its retrieval was near impossible. Elizabeth looked around for help, but none of the under-gardeners were around. She was completely alone.

"When you need them, they are never around," she grumbled.

With a resounding sigh of resignation, Elizabeth gathered her skirts around her and took one tentative step into the water. She was relieved to find that it was a shallow pond. Three steps later after Elizabeth had taken a surprising plunge into the deep, murky middle of the pond, she wished she could amend her earlier statement. The pond was not a shallow pond; it merely had shallow banks.

Elizabeth lost her footing. She had expected to be able to continue walking along the shallow bottom of the pond and had not expected that the shallow bottom would actually be a shallow ledge that turned sharply into something very deep. Caught off guard, she had floundered. But because she knew how to swim, rather than splash around helplessly, Elizabeth was able to pull herself together and tread her way to the top of the pond.

Elizabeth was now grateful for all the times she had defied her mother and snuck outside, with the help of her father, to learn how to swim. It had rankled her mother that a daughter of hers would debase herself by engaging in such unfeminine acts. But, despite its suggestive indecency, Elizabeth found that, in addition to the satisfaction of seeing her mother thusly horrified, she rather enjoyed the sport. And knowing how to swim certainly came in handy at times like this.

Taking several deep breaths of welcome air, Elizabeth turned herself around in the water searching for the ball. She found that it was not too far away and was glad of it for it would be hard to swim a great distance with the weight of her dress dragging her down. With no more crises to hinder her progress, Elizabeth soon had the ball safely tucked within her possession. Then ball and person made their way back to the grassy bank.

Elizabeth pulled herself out of the water and sat wearily down by its edge. She had expended a lot of energy fetching the ball. With a touch of humor she smiled at how a simple task had turned into such a feat. Her dress was completely ruined and she was a sight to be seen. She was dripping wet, muddied, and she had a horrid suspicion that some of the water vegetation might have clung to the tangles of her hair.

Elizabeth knew that if she were smart she would seize this opportunity when no one was around to hurry back to the house and enter through its backdoors before anyone could see her in her current state. But, sometimes, human beings are not wise and end up wishing it were otherwise in hindsight.

The only thought Elizabeth entertained was to return the ball to the children since she had promised to fetch it for them. Reasoning that it would only be the children who would see her, Elizabeth had no compunction in allowing them to see her as a water nymph gone wrong. Besides, she knew they would take great joy in hearing about her escapade and Elizabeth would never dare deny them such pleasures.

Darcy worked himself into the foulest of humors in the short walk from the house to the garden. His mood grew blacker as he drew nearer and heard the sounds of laughter, children's laughter. He had been right after all. Someone had found the key and entered the forbidden place. The children had. They would know better than to disobey his instructions when he was done with them.

Darcy launched himself into the garden fully expecting to unleash his fury on the trespassers who had dared to enter the forbidden place. What he got instead was the shock of his life.

His face, ruddy with anger, instantly paled, drained of color, and drained of furious energy. Still in mid-motion, Darcy froze with fright and incomprehension. My God, what in the blazes is going on in here?

The children, who had been blithely chattering about inconsequential thoughts before Darcy's untimely arrival, now stood equally transfixed, equally still, and equally unnerved. They were all unsure as to how they were to proceed now that they had been caught red-handed playing in the garden. Not only had they been caught red-handed, they'd been caught by the master of the garden himself.

The children gulped.

After what seemed like an eternity, it was Colin who made the first move. In that one gesture, he answered Darcy's unasked question and raised many more.

"Father?" Colin held out a tentative hand, much as one would do when wary of a stray dog and was trying to test the waters. "It is I, Father. Colin, your son."

Darcy was immovable, but not unflappable. His rigid stance and harsh demeanor cast him in a stony light, but the uncharacteristic tears glistening on his normally dry cheeks revealed his true emotions.

Colin had inherited his father's observant nature and now used it to his advantage. "Look, Father. I can walk and I am well, now." He took a few steps forward to demonstrate the truthfulness of his words.

Darcy, however, needed no such reassurances. All he needed was his son. He was amazed to see his son, Colin, up and about, and walking for heaven's sake! It was unbelievable. It was incredible. Yet it was the truth. Darcy felt as though he had just witnessed a miracle. And he was grateful, and pleased. He held out his arms, wondering how his son would react.

Colin made him proud, and relieved. There was no hesitation as he went flying into his father's outstretched arms. He reveled in the warmth of his father's strong embrace. Once there, Colin never wanted to leave it. Muffling his words and his face into his father's waistcoat, Colin asked incredulously, "You do love me. You do not hate me."

Darcy tore himself away so that he could crouch low and take his son's face into his own hands. His gaze penetrated his son's. "Hate you?" he asked incredulously. "Who has told you such packet of lies?" he asked, his voice a little bit sterner now. "I could never hate a son of mine. I love you, son. I always have."

"No one," Colin admitted mournfully. "They all assured me that you loved me, but I would not believe them."

"You were a fool not to," Darcy gruffly reproved. His words were offset by his gentle ruffling of the hair at the nape of Colin's neck. "How could you ever doubt my love for you, son?"

"You never came to see me," Colin accused. "I thought you were disgusted by the sight of me. I knew you hated my sickness. It reminded you of Mama who was always sick just like me. But I am not like Mama. I am sick no longer. I am well! You will not leave me now, will you? Not when I am healthy?" Colin's voice had risen to a shrill level by now; the urgency and sense of need patent in note and decibel of his voice.

Darcy sighed. There were many explanations he clearly owed his son, but for the moment he settled for a simpler and shorter reassurance, one that would help set his son at ease. There would be time later for more extensive explanations of his ill conduct. "I want you to pay close attention to what I have to say, Colin. I love you very much and I loved your mother too. I have never loved either of you less because you were ill."

"Truly?" Colin asked wondrously.

"Truly. And I am never going away again, son."

"But what about when you go away on business?"

"Then I shall simply have to take you with me! We shall never ever be separated again. I will never leave you alone again."

"Ever?" Colin's eyes shone unnaturally bright.

"Ever." Darcy seemed to be sharing the same afflictions as his son.

"Promise?"

"I do solemnly swear." He even crooked his pinky finger to show that he was in earnest. Darcy and his son tucked their pinkies together and shook.

Appeased and feeling a thousand times better, Colin hurled himself at his father's waistcoat again. A lifetime of hugs would not make up for all the others he had already lost. Colin vowed he would never miss out on a single hug ever again.

Overcome by all the open display of affection before them, Mary turned her head delicately away. Dickon had also inherited some of the observant traits that were so inherent to the Darcys' from his mother and caught Mary in the act of brushing aside a tear she thought no one would see. Dickon took a discreet step nearer and hesitantly placed an arm around her shoulders. Feeling the weight of her friend's arm upon her shoulders, Mary turned around and buried her crying eyes into his chest. Dickon awkwardly patted Mary's back in a feeble attempt to soothe her, and perhaps himself as well.

Colin peeked out from underneath his father's hold. No longer consumed by his father's presence, his gazed shifted towards his cousin and friend, and then he let his gaze travel back in forth in between the two of them. A tiny scowl formed in between his eyebrows as he contemplated the sight of Dickon and Mary in each other's arms.

Before Colin could comment, Darcy recollected himself and remembered his original purpose for coming to the garden.

"Ahem," Darcy coughed, addressing himself to all three of the children "As much as I am pleased by the discoveries I have made here this afternoon, I have not forgotten, nor have you I am sure, that you are standing and playing in a place you know is strictly forbidden." The children had the grace to blush under Darcy's intense scrutiny. "How did you come by the garden and why have you willfully disobeyed my commands?"

As the eldest, Dickon felt that he should be the one to shoulder the blame. "Excuse me, Uncle Fitzwilliam. I fear the blame lies with me, sir."

Darcy turned a frosty gaze upon his nephew. "I thought your parents had raised you better than to knowingly and deliberately disobey rules, Dickon. I am disappointed in you, and once I have spoken with your parents I have no doubt they will be disappointed as well."

Dickon's lips trembled ever so slightly. He could not help himself. He wanted to feel strong and be brave, but his uncle was a force hardly to be reckoned with, and the glare his uncle was leveling on him was making him lose what little confidence he had. Dickon was unused to being on the receiving end of his uncle's set-downs. Dickon and his uncle had always been great friends, and his uncle had always thought him above reproach. He felt as though he had let his uncle down, and he felt horribly. Not even the warmth of Mary's hand as she slipped it into his and squeezed it comfortingly could take the sting away and make him feel better.

Thinking he might stand a better chance of weathering his father's irate temper, and maybe even winning him over, Colin stepped up to the plate and took a turn. "No, Father. It is I who disobeyed you. Mary and Dickon talked so much about the garden that they had found hidden behind a wall. We wanted to know what the garden looked from the inside and why it was such a big secret. I persuaded them to help me find a way in, and once we were in it, I did not want to leave. This garden has been a sanctuary for me. It gave me my strength back, helped me find my will to be well again, and it is here that I learned to walk again."

Darcy's eyes snapped warily shut at the talk of the garden being a secret. Not even Colin's careful explanation of the garden's healing powers could abate his temper. "I am most displeased and even more disappointed in you, Colin. As my heir and the future master of this estate, you should have had more respect for the house and its lands. That includes all the rules and regulations that come with them. In the future, when I tell you to do something or not to do something - such as stay away from this garden - you will heed my command!"

Darcy's outburst went unacknowledged for Colin was too busy shaking with fear. For some reason the thought that his son should be so afraid of him maddened Darcy even more. "Do you understand me, Colin? And do I have your word of honor?"

"Y-y-yes... sir..." Colin's teeth chattered and he barely got the words out.

Mary was the third and the last to step forward. Brave and unafraid, she would not cower in front of her guardian. There was no way she was going to let her friends suffer the price of a crime that should have been hers and hers alone.

"Please, sir. If you are to punish someone, please let it be me. For it was I who found the key and opened the garden's door." Walking forward, Mary held the old-fashioned bronze key in her outstretched hands, evidence of her guilt.

Somehow in the surprise and aftermath of meeting his son in the garden, and then disciplining of his nephew and son, Darcy had forgotten all about the pale-faced girl who had stood unobtrusively to the side. Now Darcy turned, surprised to see his nightmare standing right in front of him. It was because of her that he had first left Pemberley, and it was perhaps because of her that he had returned; yet, somehow he had missed her upon his return.

Mary was not sure how much she should explain, but she tried her best to give an answer that she thought her host and guardian would like. She also tried to stay as close as to the truth as she possibly could. "I found the key in a book in the library, sir. I had heard about the garden and I had heard about its story. I was fascinated by it," Mary confessed, all the while blushing like mad.

"I thought the key and the garden might go hand in hand, and I thought I would try my luck at it. Dickon dissuaded me from it. He would not go against your orders and without your permission he kept on denying my pleas. My curiosity got the better of me though and I immediately resolved to procure your permission..." Mary's voice slowed and grew shaky, "...which I did."

Darcy's head jerked up and something in his eyes flickered. "What did you say?"

Mary took a quick swallow of air before plunging on. "Indeed, sir. You did give me permission. If you will remember, it was the day before you left for France. You asked me if there was anything I wanted and I asked you for a garden. After some thought, you gave your permission. You never did specify where I was to have my garden," Mary added coyly.

"A garden," Darcy whispered. "To make things grow..." And I looked into your eyes and I saw your aunt, Elizabeth, and I remembered how much she loved watching things grow. "That is what you told me."

"Yes, sir." Mary brightened. "And that is exactly what we did." Mary swept her arms around the garden in a proud arch. She was pleased to be able to put all their efforts on display.

"I think the garden is very pretty now, don't you? Dickon made sure that we planted flowers for every season so that the garden would never be without a bloom. Was it not nice of him to think of that? Colin and I have worked hard at weeding. You cannot imagine how difficult it is! But I think the garden is so much better now. When we first uncovered it, it was not at all impressive. So much had fallen into disrepair and the flowers that had managed to stay alive grew all over one another. The garden fairly screamed for attention, so we spoiled it and gave in. We brought the garden around, all of us. We worked every day without a single soul suspecting. Well, that is except for..."

"Enough!" Mary was effectively cut off by Darcy's impassioned plea for silence. He needed quiet to absorb everything he had just been told. The girl had caught him fairly and squarely about the permission. That he had to concede. And when he looked into her face and saw her eyes, he really did not have the heart to make the child suffer any punishment.

Mary looked up at her guardian and cast him a baleful glance. "Are you very much in anger with me, Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy was drowning in those warm, watery brown eyes of hers. He racked the recesses of his mind but came up with absolutely nothing. Dickon and Colin watched from the sidelines going back and forth between one extreme of horror to the other of amusement. On the one hand, they feared for their friend, not knowing how Darcy would react and how he would punish her. On the other hand, they had never before seen Darcy at such a loss before. They waited for the result on tenterhooks.

Darcy's lifeboat came in the most unexpected of forms.

"Children!" A light, golden voice cheerfully called out from behind. "Look what I have found and come to return to you, just as I promised!"

Elizabeth walked into the garden, the red ball held triumphantly over her head ready to be thrown, and practically tripped on the cracked, step stones as she encountered the backside of a gentleman who had most definitely not been there when she'd left. He turned around and she almost fainted.

"M-m-m... Mr. D-d-darcy... I, we, I... oh my goodness," already stammering from the shock of seeing Mr. Darcy standing in the middle of the garden, Elizabeth remembered the deplorable state of her dress.

She could have slammed her forehead on the ball. She wanted to. She wanted to hold it up in front of herself and hope that it would cover the dripping fabric that clung to her like a second skin and was covered in dirt and all other sorts of grime.

At first, Darcy thought he'd been mistaken. That his dreams and thoughts were playing were playing a cruel trick on his imagination. When he turned around though, he immediately straightened with surprise. A most pleasant surprise.

"Miss Bennet," Darcy executed a neat bow, which Elizabeth returned with a quick curtsey of her own.

"We had not expected to see you, sir. I thought you were away from home, in Paris I believe your sister said."

"I am, was, that is. I've only just returned." There was a moment of pause. "Forgive me, your family. They are in good health?"

Elizabeth looked confused, "They are in excellent health. I think. I have been remiss in writing them of late, I am afraid. But, when I last heard from them they were well, I thank you, sir."

"Oh yes, of course, you are no longer living in Hertfordshire. I remember hearing that you had taken a position with the Moffet's. A fine family. You enjoy working for them?"

"Yes, I do. Very much so, sir." Elizabeth was surprised that he should know so much about her.

"That is good, very good. I am glad to hear it. And how long have you been staying in this part of the country?"

"For quite some time, actually. The Moffet's traveled to Scotland for the summer and your sister was kind enough to invite me here to Pemberley so that I could visit with my niece."

"Oh, yes, of course."

"You do not mind, do you, sir?"

"Oh, no. Of course not."

"Thank you, sir."

Darcy wasn't sure what else he could say, but he was desperately trying to find something to say, just as he was desperately trying not to stare at her dress. It was so distracting, the way it molded itself to her body, leaving nothing to the imagination.

Elizabeth could feel the heat of his eyes on her body. She knew that Darcy was looking at her dress. He was probably disgusted and she couldn't blame him. She looked like a mess. She was so embarrassed. All these years! And the first time they met again she looked like the sea creature that was reputed to be living in Loch Ness, Scotland. If she could have burst into a ball of flame, she would have.

As it was, she was about ready to burst into a ball of tears. Elizabeth tried to hold them back and only just succeeded. A few tears of both shame and mortification managed to escape and trickle down her pale cheek.

"Forgive me," Elizabeth tilted her head. She turned next to the children and threw them their ball. "Here you go, children. Try not to kick it so high again."

And then she fled.

The children watched in fascination as Darcy stared at Elizabeth running back to the house, her hands pressed against her face. Darcy wanted to run after her, to hand her his handkerchief, to tell her that it was all right, and that he was just as confused as she.

Above all, he just wanted to hold her in his arms.

But, he was getting ahead of himself. And, he was also rooted to his spot, still reeling from the shock of finding Elizabeth Bennet, here, at Pemberley. To think, he had wasted all those months in France! Why had no one said anything before? He would have to speak with Richard and Georgiana.

But later. Much later.

For the moment, he was simply content to know that Elizabeth was here and within his reach. Anne had been trying to send him a message and he had been wise in listening to her this once. Darcy wanted to shout with glee and get down on his knees to give his thanks and pray for help all at the same time. He felt as though a load had been lifted from his chest. He felt amazingly free.

Darcy had always wondered how they would greet one another after all these many years if they should chance to meet. Now he had his answer. Her silence and her tears gave him hope.*

He could tell that Elizabeth had been as affected by his presence as he had been by hers. He also knew instinctively that she had been brought to Pemberley to give him a second chance. This time, he would make things right. Nothing, he decided, would get in his way.

Filled with new purpose, Darcy told the children that they would finish their conversation later. Right now, he had other things to tend to.

* From Lord Byron's When We Two Parted:

In secret we met--
In silence I grieve
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive.
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?--
With silence and tears.

Chapter 29

Mrs. Reynolds tiptoed into the music room where she knew that Georgiana and the Colonel had assembled all their guests for an impromptu musicale. Currently, a Mrs. Lewis was serenading the company with a lovely aria. Mrs. Lewis's voice truly was one of great accomplishment, and it was a great improvement from some of the screeching sounds Mrs. Reynolds had overheard earlier when she had been walking down the corridors.

Out of the corner of her eye, Georgiana watched Mrs. Reynolds slip into the room and look furtively about. Now doubt she was looking for her. Standing from her seat that had been purposely positioned off to the side for purposes such as these, Georgiana made her way to the door as unobtrusively as she could.

"Is everything all right?" she asked, when she reached Mrs. Reynolds's side.

Mrs. Reynolds shook her head and leaned in to whisper what she'd come to tell Georgiana. Georgiana's eyes widened and then she straightened to stare at Mrs. Reynolds in shock. She quickly whispered her reply and hurried off.

Colonel Fitzwilliam had been standing at the back of the room with a group of his friends; they'd all been pressured by their wives to attend the musicale. His head tilted upwards against the wall, he had almost missed watching his wife sneak out of the room. He wondered if something was wrong, but when he looked over, Mrs. Reynolds shook her head and smiled her reassurances.

Satisfied, the Colonel went back to leaning against the wall and closing his tired eyes. Mrs. Lewis had finished her aria and a Miss Shaw had taken over at the pianoforte. The forced performance had him cringing and wincing. He could practically hear his aunt repeating her favorite mantra over and over again in the back of his head, She would not play at all amiss, if she practiced more, and had the advantage of a London master. Though the Colonel generally loathed Lady Catherine de Bourgh's superior attitude, he conceded that in this instance, his aunt would have been more than justified in sharing her opinions.

A few seconds later, he'd closed his ears as well as his eyes, never imagining that a drama was unfolding right over his head.

When Georgiana walked into Elizabeth's room, she found Elizabeth just as Mrs. Reynolds had described, extremely agitated and in a hurry to leave. Elizabeth was walking briskly back and forth between the armoire and her bed, oblivious to everything else around her. Trunks, half-empty, lay open on the floor and bags, with their mouths gaping wide, waited to be filled on the bed. Elizabeth, she noted, was completely mussed and still dripping wet. Apparently, she had not even taken the time to dry and change herself before she started packing. Georgiana knew then that she had a difficult task ahead of her.

"Mrs. Reynolds mentioned to me that you had decided to leave. I came to lend my assistance, if you need it."

Elizabeth sucked in her breath. She had not heard Georgiana's entrance. She had been too caught up in her heated frenzy. She paused, unsure as to what she should do.

"I must say that the news caught me quite by surprise. It is rather sudden, this desire to leave, is it not? Is there any particular reason for your hasty retreat? I hope you have not received any bad news that requires your immediate attention," Georgiana continued. Though she surmised that Elizabeth had run into her brother somewhere on the estate and was thusly disconcerted, she thought it better to act as if she knew nothing.

Elizabeth seemed to consider Georgiana's questions for a moment before continuing about her business, shoving another dress into her bag. Ignoring her gracious host seemed the best thing to do at the moment.

Georgiana walked calmly over and took the light green morning dress out of Elizabeth's hand and out of the bag. Smoothing out the creases, she folded it carefully before setting it down on the bed. "If you do not take care, all your dresses will be wrinkled."

Elizabeth stiffened. "It does not signify," she said, snatching back the dress and stuffing it into the bag once more. "I must leave immediately."

"Leave if you must, of course," was Georgiana's unperturbed response. "I cannot keep you hostage here, after all. But after you dry yourself and change."

"I can't. There is no time to be lost." Elizabeth headed back for the armoire.

Georgiana was faster. She caught Elizabeth by the wrist and dragged her back. Elizabeth refused to meet her gaze. "Elizabeth, be reasonable. Not only do I worry about your health, but I also worry about my brother's carpet." Georgiana gazed pointedly at the growing pool of water that stained the area around Elizabeth's feet.

Georgiana's attempt at a jest was completely lost on Elizabeth. Her mentioning of her brother however jerked Elizabeth to attention and she blushed. "I'm sorry, Georgiana. I'm not thinking well right now. I hope the damage isn't permanent."

"I'm sure Mrs. Reynolds will know what to do," Georgiana waved away Elizabeth's concerns as though it were inconsequential, which it was in the grander scheme of things.

"If you will forgive me then, I really must hurry. I don't have time for a chat. Would you find Mary and the other children for me, Georgiana? I really would like to see her before I leave and say good-bye to Colin and Dickon."

"If you wish," Georgiana nodded her assent, though made no move to actually comply with Elizabeth's request.

She continued to watch Elizabeth empty the remainder of the armoire until there was only one dress left. She quickly lifted it from its shelf and laid it out on the bed before Elizabeth could touch it, fold it, and pack it amongst her other dresses.

Georgiana fanned out the folds of the embroidered dress and gazed at it lovingly. The seamstress had done a fine job on the ball gown. She still remembered the day when Elizabeth had donned it for the final fitting. Elizabeth had stood in front of the mirror, clearly pleased with what she saw, but also slightly embarrassed. "I still don't know why you insist on purchasing a dress for me, Georgiana. I have one I can wear to the ball."

Georgiana almost cried Elizabeth looked so beautiful. She knew that her brother would never stand a chance once he saw Elizabeth in it. If he weren't already in love with her, he very soon would be. "I know you do, Elizabeth. But I want to do this. Consider it a thank you gift for all the help you've given me putting the ball together and readying the house."

"All right, I accept. Thank you." Staring at her reflection, Elizabeth frowned. She tugged at the neckline, trying to shift it up. "I think this is a little low, Mrs. Talbot. Can you fix it so that it is a little higher?"

Georgiana swatted Elizabeth's hands away. "Nonsense. The neckline is just perfect."

"Georgiana! It's scandalous!"

"No it's not. It's the all the rage in London now. Trust me. You have been hiding out in the country for far too long, Elizabeth. You look like a jewel in this gown and you shall blow all the other guests to pieces. Why, you shall outshine the honored guest herself."

Elizabeth turned and smiled wryly at her friend. Even in a simple pale blue dress, Georgiana looked as fresh as a spring flower. "Somehow I doubt that. Besides, I do not want to be the belle of the ball. I'm only going to please you, you know. I should be happy to be able to stand in the corner and watch you shine on your husband's arm."

Georgiana smiled. There was something else mysterious dancing in her eyes. "I think that you will be doing your own fair share of dancing at the ball," Georgiana had happily predicted.

Now, fondling the silken fabric, Georgiana said, "I must confess that I am a bit surprised that you would leave the day before the ball. I had thought you were looking forward to it. I did so want you to be there too."

Elizabeth stared expressionlessly at the gold and silver ball gown Georgiana had insisted on having made up for her and now laid on the bed. Realization dawned on her and Elizabeth felt a sharp jab in her stomach.

"You knew," she whispered. "Oh my goodness, you knew." Elizabeth's hands clutched at her chest, her voice infused with bitterness and betrayal.

"I know a great many things, Elizabeth. It is why my husband loves me so much." Georgiana's attempt at levity and play at obtuseness did not humor Elizabeth in the least.

"No," she shook her head. Elizabeth was not about to let Georgiana try and avoid the subject now that her eyes had been opened.

"You knew. You knew he was returning," Elizabeth clarified, her voice charged with accusation.

"Yes. Yes I did," Georgiana answered simply. She was not ashamed of her actions. She had done what she thought was best for all.

"You knew he would return for the ball," Elizabeth persisted.

Georgiana sighed resignedly. "Fitzwilliam has always done what pleases him, so it was difficult to say with certainty that he would be present for my wedding anniversary. It was, however, my greatest wish that he be here for it and he sensed it enough to come home when it was time. So, yes. In that sense, I suppose you could say that I knew my brother would return to Pemberley for the ball."

"And that is why you kept me here, insisted that I stay on, when I wanted to leave. You gave me all these reasons and excuses for why I should stay. I listened and I reconsidered. I stayed for Mary and because I thought you honestly needed my help. All this time, you kept the real reason from me."

"Would it really have mattered if I had told you beforehand that I was expecting my brother's return any day now?" Georgiana asked quietly. She suspected that she knew the answer to her own question, but she needed to hear it from Elizabeth.

"Of course it would have mattered," Elizabeth answered heatedly, her fists firmly planted along her hips. Her frustration had transformed her into a child on the verge of a temper tantrum replete with stamping feet and shaking fists.

"Why?" Georgiana taunted, though not unkindly. It was time to drag the truth out into the open, and to make Elizabeth face what she would not confront before.

"Because..." How could she tell Georgiana the truth, that after all these years she was still in love with her brother, that she'd never stopped loving him. That her heart had always been his?

"Because I would have left if I had known that he was to return. You know I would have left. You should have told me that you were expecting your brother, Georgiana," Elizabeth accused once more as she moved towards the small writing table, putting distance in between herself and Georgiana. "I do not wish to see him."

"Why are you so afraid of my brother?" Georgiana asked. "I know you have not always gotten along, but I rather thought that towards the end of your acquaintance there was a time when you enjoyed one another's company. I would have sworn that you were even friends."

Elizabeth's hands trembled as they fumbled to pack her small stack of books and escritoire. "I-I'm not afraid of your brother. I just don't feel comfortable being at Pemberley without his invitation. I feel like an intruder."

Georgiana snorted. "If that were truly the case, then the entire music room would have to be cast out of the house. And I think you know it too. I think that there is a deeper reason for this fear you are currently experiencing."

"I'm not afraid of anything," Elizabeth flatly denied. If only Georgiana believed her.

"I think you are," Georgiana said slowly, giving up all pretenses of not knowing what she clearly knew.

Elizabeth shook her head, refusing to acknowledge Georgiana's unspoken question. Nor was she about to let Georgiana pry from her the real reason for her reticence. The secret had been hers and Jane's to keep for all these years and she was not about to divulge them in one afternoon simply because she had had the misfortune to fall into one of Georgiana's misguided traps. Elizabeth still could not believe it.

"You should have told me," Elizabeth said softly and sadly, all the while shaking her head.

"Why should I have told you?"

"So that I could have been prepared." Elizabeth bent down to close one of her trunks and lock the lid.

"Prepared for what, Elizabeth?" Georgiana questioned, as she leaned over to lay her hand on Elizabeth's fingers, forestalling Elizabeth from packing anymore.

"So I would have been prepared to see him. I would not have been shocked. I would not have lost my tongue."

Elizabeth was grasping for straws and Georgiana knew it. She laughed. It was not a menacing laugh. But it was not a cheerful sort of laughter either. "No, Elizabeth. What you want to say is that you would have been prepared. Prepared to run away."

Elizabeth's silence said a lot.

"Why should I have told you?" Georgiana inquired. "So you could run away like you are trying to do right now? So you could run away like you have been trying to do for the past decade?" Georgiana's voice was harsh, but not unkind.

"That is unfair, Georgiana. And this is not fair. You should not have done this. It was unfair of you. I trusted you."

"And I loved you, Elizabeth. I still do. Having you for a sister, it is all I have ever wanted since we were first introduced almost ten years ago."

"Stop!" Elizabeth cried, tears streaming down her face in a torrent, adding to the puddle on the floor.

"I can't. It is too late. I must say what you will not hear."

"No!" Elizabeth closed her hands over her ears and shook her head, willing with all her might for Georgiana to stop.

Georgiana was in control though and not about to be stopped. She took Elizabeth's hand steadily into her own. "What is fair or unfair, Elizabeth? Is it fair that you should pine for my brother while working in the north of England as a governess? Is it fair that my brother should pine for you while hiding himself in the south of France? Is it fair that I should be denied the sister I want and have always known I should have?"

"You presume too much, Georgiana," Elizabeth's words were spoken low and warningly.

"Do I? I do not think so. You cannot tell me that you do not think such thoughts yourself. You cannot tell me that in all these weeks you have stayed at Pemberley, you have not looked around and thought to yourself that if everything had worked out as it should have all of this should have rightfully be yours."

"I am not Caroline Bingley," Elizabeth said in a low, warning tone.

"No, no you're not. She walks around this house and tries to rule it as if it were hers to command. You, on the other hand, you have more class than that. Do you think that Richard and I are blind? We have seen you walk around the house with an unexplainable sort of hunger in your eyes and we have ached for you. There were times when I would catch you watching Colin and I knew exactly what you were thinking. You were thinking that he should have been your darling boy to comfort and to love, weren't you?"

Elizabeth wiped her eyes with the back of her hand as she turned away to the window, desperately trying to hide the tears that were falling like waterfalls as they cascaded down her reddened cheeks.

"I know it must have been difficult for you, but I also knew that no matter what, you had to come here. Bringing you to Pemberley was the only way I could open your eyes and make you face the truth. Perhaps it was beneath me to resort to such trickery to bring you to Pemberley and keep you here, but I did it for the both of you."

"I will not deny that I did it for myself as well. As I said before, I have always wanted you for a sister, Elizabeth. And you know I have a knack for getting what I want. I am not ashamed to say that I am spoiled. I know perfectly well that I am. As a child I was used to wheedling Fitzwilliam into getting my way, and as an adult, well let us just say that Richard is a as indulgent as my brother. But my interests, I assure you, are strictly secondary to my Fitzwilliam's."

"You know I love my brother very much, Elizabeth. And you must know that I would do anything to secure his happiness and make it complete. So, you will understand then when I say that I just had to find a way to bring you two together. You were both so stubborn. You were bent on hiding away on the opposite ends of this Earth and I needed for you to see what you would deny."

"My brother loves you, Elizabeth. He has always loved you and he has never stopped loving you. And though he would try and deny it, not a moment goes by in his life when he is not thinking about you."

The tears continued to roll steadily down Elizabeth's cheek, but she made no motion to wipe them away. To do so would have been futile anyway.

"Now what about you, Elizabeth?" Georgiana asked. "Can you deny that this is what you have always wanted, dreamed of? I am giving you a second chance. Do not run away from it simply because you are scared and unsure of the unknown."

Georgiana watched Elizabeth slip onto the bed as her words sank in. "He cannot possibly still love me," Elizabeth stared at the folded hands in her lap still firmly encapsulated within Georgiana's.

"He... I thought..." she was honestly confused. For a decade, Elizabeth had always believed that Darcy had moved on and found himself someone else to love. She had heard of Darcy's deep depression and always believed that it was for Anne. Now, Georgiana was telling her that Darcy had only loved one woman and pined for one woman. Her. It was too much to absorb and understand.

"Stay and find the truth for yourself." Georgiana's voice was soft and gentle as she entreated Elizabeth to put aside her packing and stay for at least one more night. But, Elizabeth did not miss the poignant hard edge in Georgiana's voice either. She knew a challenge when she heard one.

"You have had an overwhelming and exhausting afternoon. If you choose to stay, and I hope you will, I will not force you to join us this evening. You obviously have much to think about. Perhaps it would be best to leave you to them. If you feel more comfortable, I shall have your dinner sent directly up to you, so you will not have to face the other guests. I hope..." Georgiana trailed as she searched for the appropriate words to finish what she'd come to say. "I hope you will give some earnest thought to what I have told you this afternoon, Elizabeth. And I do hope you will stay to discover the rest for yourself."

As she exited Elizabeth's room, Georgiana felt much better. She felt as though much had been accomplished in that short interview. Georgiana had been much alarmed when Mrs. Reynolds told her Elizabeth had demanded a carriage and announced she was leaving Pemberley, but now she felt somewhat reassured. She believed - nay, hoped - that she had been successful in persuading Elizabeth to stay.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth moved around her room in a trancelike state. Reaching around, she acrobatically managed to undo the buttons and peel the wet clothing off her back. Once she was completely disrobed, she moved towards the steaming bath Georgiana had drawn up for her without her notice during their conversation. Elizabeth lowered herself into the warm tub and immediately felt all the tenseness in her muscles relax. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, allowing her senses to be overpowered by the sweet, musky fragrance of the rose-scented water. In a matter of seconds, Elizabeth had drifted off into peace and respite.

It was not until much later after Elizabeth had eaten the dinner that Mrs. Reynolds had brought to her on a tray, and was lying in bed, that Elizabeth made her decision. Staring hard at the ball gown, which she had left out on the chair by the hearth fire, Elizabeth knew what she had to do.

She would stay and uncover the truth for herself.

Darcy settled heavily into one of the leather chairs in front of the roaring fire in his study. Though the summer nights were warm, it was still a little cool inside the house. Darcy was feeling extremely tired. It had been a long day. After the shock and excitement of his afternoon, the evening had seemed interminably long, especially when Elizabeth had chosen not to join the rest of the party for dinner and stayed upstairs instead.

"Do you think Elizabeth is all right?" he asked his cousin.

Richard poured two glasses of brandy and brought one over to his cousin before taking the seat opposite Darcy. They held their glasses up in a silent toast before taking their first sips. Richard knew that Darcy had been aching to ask the question all evening long, but he'd had to restrain himself because of all the other guests in the house. Finally, everyone had called it a night and headed to their rooms, and Darcy had wasted no time in retiring to his study with the Colonel trailing behind.

"I think so," Richard finally answered. "Georgiana says she seemed pretty upset this afternoon. She was all ready to pack up and leave, but after talking with her, Georgiana says she was finally able to convince Elizabeth to stay."

So, she'd come back to the house after running into him and immediately prepared to leave. The thought was not only unsettling, it was also quite a blow to the ego.

"It was quite a surprise, coming home, finding her here."

"You had several surprises waiting for you from what I understand."

"You heard about the garden, I suppose."

"A little hard not to," the Colonel admitted. "Dickon told me all about it when Georgiana and I went up to stay good-night before dinner." He hesitated a minute before adding, "Darce, I'm sorry about what the children did. I know how much the garden means to you."

Darcy shrugged. Now that the damage had been done, it didn't seem so important anymore. "If it could inspire Colin to live and walk, then I am happy. That is all that matters to me. Your son has been good for Colin. Thanks, Richard."

"You can thank him tomorrow when you see him," Richard said. "Right now, Dickon's still a little afraid of you."

Darcy snorted and took another sip of his brandy. "As well he should be, and the others too. They all deliberately disobeyed an order." Darcy remembered how the three children had banded together, each attempting to take the blame. Mary Bingley had been the most creative. He chuckled just thinking about it.

"What's so funny?" the Colonel asked.

"That Mary. You know, she caught me in a pickle. She told me I had given her permission to work in the garden, and in a way I had. Right before I left for Paris, she stood in this room and asked me for a garden. I gave her my consent, but I never stipulated where she should grow her garden. Sneaky little thing, she took it to mean that she could grow her garden in that garden."

"What did you say to her when she called you on it?" Richard laughed.

Darcy sobered. "I never had to say anything. That's when Elizabeth walked into the garden. Imagine my surprise when I heard her voice, turned around, and saw her standing in the doorway. At first, I thought I was hallucinating. But then she spoke and I knew it was too good to be true. It was just like the last time I had seen her in the rose garden. Only, this time, she was the one dripping wet and walking in on me."

"I bet she was just as surprised as you were," Richard said dryly.

"No doubt about it. She was probably mortified by her state of dress. I know I would have been," Darcy said, a split second before he burst out into laughter. His cousin could not help reflecting that it had been a long time since he had heard Darcy genuinely laugh.

"Oh, but you should have seen her, Richard. She was so gorgeous. She was covered in dirt, mud, and grime, and still, I thought her the most beautiful sight in the entire world."

Ah, true love, indeed, the Colonel thought.

"I'm glad you thought so for Elizabeth thought it incredibly embarrassing," Georgiana said as she walked in on the latter part of their conversation. She had gone upstairs to check on the children after she'd bid her guests goodnight.

"Ah, my miscreant sister," Darcy called aloud. "Do come in and have a seat. I have been waiting all evening to have a word with you."

"How are the children?" Richard asked as his wife perched herself on the arm of his chair.

"Abed and asleep," Georgiana announced. "Although, Mrs. Reynolds informs me that she had a hard time getting Colin to go to sleep. He was too wound up from the excitement of having his father home."

Darcy smiled. "I am so glad you came home," Georgiana said. "It means so much to Colin to have you here again. I'm also glad you spoke with him, Fitzwilliam. Your little talk with him this afternoon has done more for him than any of us have been able to achieve with him in weeks."

"Oh, I don't know. It looks like you accomplished a great deal. You got him out of bed, you got him to walk, and most importantly, you have given him a purpose for living. Already I can tell that his temper has improved a great deal too. You have done more than I could ever have hoped for in my absence, and I am grateful."

"Don't thank me," Georgiana told him. "Thank Mary. She blew in here like a whirlwind and had him out of his bed in a flash. She was probably the first person that ever stood up to him instead of making excuses for him or being afraid of him."

"I can well believe it," Darcy said, remembering once again the way she had stood to him outside in the garden.

"He and Elizabeth have also grown very close," the Colonel put in. "She's been very good for him too."

"Ah, I am so glad you brought the subject of Elizabeth up again, Richard. I have been meaning to ask my sister about Elizabeth's visit to Pemberley, so I thank you."

"I understand from the children," Darcy said, turning his attention to Georgiana, "that it was your idea to invite Elizabeth to Pemberley. Imagine that."

"What?" his sister asked innocently. "I think it makes perfect sense. Mary was so homesick when she first came to Pemberley; she ached for her parents and India, so I did the next best thing I could to make her feel at home in England. Mary told me all about her Aunt Elizabeth and how she loved her so much and wanted to see her but couldn't because her mother had explained to her that her aunt was a governess and would not be able to leave the family for whom she worked."

"But you decided to invite her anyways."

"I thought it the polite thing to do, yes. And, besides, you never know what might happen. As it turns out the family Elizabeth worked for was traveling to Scotland this summer, so she had some time for herself."

"How convenient."

"I prefer to think of it as absolutely, positively providential," Georgiana said cheerfully.

"And you never once thought to write and tell me about it?" Darcy's voice switched abruptly over and bordered on the dangerous.

Georgiana scooted back, towards the protection of her husband, and said, "My, I didn't realize how late it is. Don't you want to go to bed, Fitzwilliam? I know how tired you must be; after all, you have been traveling since this morning and then you had to come home to a houseful of guests. You must be exhausted. I am so sorry for keeping you up. Come, Richard, let's give Fitzwilliam the peace he needs."

"Georgiana Anne Darcy Fitzwilliam, don't you dare try to avoid the subject," Darcy growled.

Georgiana winced. He had not referred to her by her full name since before her marriage. "Now, Fitzwilliam," she immediately placated, "do not be upset. I was only trying to think of your comfort."

"I suppose you mean to tell me that you were acting in my best interest when you purposefully neglected to tell me that Elizabeth had come to stay at Pemberley too."

"Well," she bit her cheek, "actually, yes."

"And how exactly do you propose to explain that?" Darcy demanded to know.

"Oh, Fitzwilliam," Georgiana sighed sorrowfully. She slid off the arm of the chair and down to the floor where she curled her body in front of her brother's feet. Reaching up, she placed her right cheek against his knees, much as she had when she was a little girl. Darcy instinctively began to stroke his sister's head. Many a times when Georgiana had missed their parents, Darcy had comforted her thusly. And, when Darcy had been worried about something, she had given him comfort in the same manner.

"I did not tell you that Elizabeth was here because I knew that if I did, you would either come running home, or you would stay away indefinitely until she left. I wanted to think that you would take your second chance and come home, but I could not be sure. And, even if you had decided to come home, I did not want it to be because of Elizabeth."

"I wanted you to come home of your own accord, Fitzwilliam. I knew that you would eventually, and when you did, I would have Elizabeth waiting for you."

"But not exactly with open arms."

Georgiana looked up at her brother and holding his gaze probed, "Do you remember what you told me about getting over the pain and hurt of George Wickham?"

The question came seemingly out of nowhere and Darcy's hand stilled on Georgiana's head just as Richard sat protectively forward. Though Georgiana had long gotten over that brief, but painful period in her past, it was not forgotten, and it was something she did not like to be reminded of. Consequently, it was a subject no one ever talked about and certainly not one Georgiana had ever brought willingly up on her own.

"I had gone to bed early and you had come in to check on me. You found me crying. Without a word, you picked me up and carried me over to the fire. You cradled me in your lap. You hadn't done that since I was ten when I thought I had lost my favorite stuffed bunny. Yet, here I was at fifteen, once again being held in your arms. It must have been so uncomfortable for you, but you didn't seem to mind. Without having to explain, you knew exactly what was troubling me. You always did."

"That night, as you held me on your lap, you told me that you could make sure that I never had to see that awful man ever again. And that is exactly what you had done for me. But, you also told me that not having to see George Wickham ever again did not automatically mean that I would get over him. You told me that the only way I would ever be able to conquer my fears and insecurities was if I faced the past head on and did something about it. I didn't really understand you that night and it took me a while to understand what you meant. But, eventually, I did."

"I learned that although you could protect me physically, only I could protect myself emotionally. I had to learn how to not blame myself for falling for his promises and how to forgive myself for the poor decisions I made. When I was finally able to think about George Wickham without fear, anger, guilt, and embarrassment, I knew that I was truly free of him. Thanks to you, I no longer had to worry about seeing him. And, because of myself, I no longer had to worry about him haunting my every thought and every dream."

The Colonel turned away from the scene in front of him, not wanting the others to see how much that memory of his wife's youth still affected him. Darcy, however, was caught in Georgiana's gaze.

"I have ensured Elizabeth's presence at Pemberley, but that does not mean that things will automatically fall into place as you would like. The only way you will be able to control your destiny is if you do something about it. I know you love her, Fitzwilliam. We all do, even Colin. And I think, though she has not said so, that Elizabeth loves you too. Do not let this opportunity go to waste, brother. Don't disappoint yourself."

"I won't," Darcy promised himself, his sister, and brother-in-law. "I won't."

Continued in Next Section