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Chapter 11

Posted on Monday, 7 October 2002

Brother,

Mr. Edwards has come and gone. He did not complete his examination of Elizabeth because she woke up during it. She is ill, her mind more so than her body, I think. She blames herself. She asked if Mr. Tuesby was gone from the house, which I assured her he was, and promised that she should not see him again. I hope that is true.

She has a bruise on her arm where he was holding her, her lips are swollen and she has red marks on her neck. She has made no physical complaint. She is much disturbed and upset by the whole affair. I intend to spend the night with her.

She has asked to see you, brother, though she will not say why. If possible, I would appreciate it if you could leave your guests for a moment and come to her.

I feel responsible for this business, brother. I should have gone down with her when she was ready, I should never have left her alone. And I also have to thank you again from rescuing me from Wickham. If this happens to Elizabeth on such a short acquaintance, I am certain Wickham would have killed me after he got my dowry. Oh Fitzwilliam!

GD

The table was being relaid for the second course when the footman brought Mr. Darcy the missive from Georgiana. Darcy excused himself and went to his library to read the note.

To say that Darcy was shocked did not give justice to what he felt. That Elizabeth was not complaining of any physical injury was hopeful, but perhaps meant nothing in the face of the mental upset she was enduring. That she accused herself of doing anything wrong was unbelievable. She was a victim of a drunken womanizer. She was not herself. This was Elizabeth, the frightened little girl, not Elizabeth, the woman he brought to Pemberley. He had failed to protect her, and she blamed herself when she should be blaming him. His heart ached. And Georgiana, in her empathy for Elizabeth, felt her old wounds opening once again. How much anguish had Tuesby caused? How was it ever to be repaired? How was peace of mind and security ever to be restored to Pemberley? How were these two women ever to feel safe here again?

Was the only answer to call out Tuesby to a duel, and hope for the best for himself? Darcy had no doubt he could easily defeat Tuesby. At the least, humiliate him, and at worst kill him. If they were caught, it was ten years in the Tower. It he killed Tuesby and it was found out, he would be executed.

Elizabeth! She wanted to see him. He would go to her now.

He knocked gently on the door of her bedchamber. Georgiana opened it slightly.

"Hello, brother, please wait a moment." She shut the door. Shortly she came back and let him in.

Darcy rushed to Elizabeth's side and took her hand. She jumped back from his touch and pulled her hand away. He was hurt but instantly understood.

"Miss Bennet, you asked to see me."

Elizabeth said nothing, but looked at him. He had wanted to touch her. He appeared hurt. But there was something else. She could not decide.

"Mr. Darcy, thank you for all that you have done for me. Thank you for bringing me to my room, for sending away Mr. Tuesby. I know that you are going to blame yourself, or expect me to blame you. Do not." She felt like she was a child in trouble with her governess. "Who could imagine that someone would try to hurt me in your own home? I do not blame you. I only thank you and feel a great deal of gratitude for all the kindness you extend to me." Maybe if he would not look at her. She turned her head away.

"Miss Bennet, you should not have been left alone. I should have protected you."

"Mr. Darcy, being in your home is protection enough, and you know very well that I seek out opportunities to be alone. Do not take responsibility for this upon yourself." She paused. "Sir, I do have one favor to ask of you."

"Yes, Miss Bennet, anything."

"Sir, I do not want you, in the name of honor, my reputation, or any other reason, to try and fight a duel with Mr. Tuesby. I could not endure the thought of it," she pleaded.

"Miss Bennet, he has insulted you, me, Pemberley, all that I believe in, and care for." He blushed.

"Please, Mr. Darcy! I will recover and be fine. I will leave Pemberley so any damage to my reputation does not dishonor it." She was saddened at the thought, and growing frustrated with Mr. Darcy. Why could he not just agree with her? Did he not understand?

"If this is important to your happiness, and you, then I will agree. But in exchange you must promise me something."

"Very well, Mr. Darcy," she sighed.

"You must promise that you will not leave Pemberley."

"Do you mean it?"

"Nothing would distress me more than were you to leave Pemberley. Georgiana and I cannot do without you regardless of the circumstances."

"I feel the same, sir," she whispered, "I will not leave," said more loudly.

From that time forth, Elizabeth recovered her strength. She had no permanent physical injury that a few days did not heal.

Mr. Darcy did not leave things the way they were, however. He wrote to the Earl of Inglesford explaining, in part, what happened with his second son. The good Earl wrote back saying his son was embarking later that month for a two year grand tour of the continent, and apologized for any harm that came to Miss Bennet, the insult to Pemberley House, and thanked Mr. Darcy for not calling his unruly son out. Miss Bennet received the news gladly, and later that month, resumed her walks around the park at Pemberley.

It was the beginning of April and Darcy felt like he had to go to London to take care of pressing business with his solicitor that he had been putting off since Elizabeth had come to Pemberley. His solicitor had finally insisted that Mr. Darcy must come to town. There were little matters of the estate to take care of, such as new tenant leases, grain and supply negotiations for the upcoming winter, and Darcy was always eager to add to the Pemberley properties by purchasing any new land that came available for sale in the neighborhood. Mr. Darcy also wanted to give directions to his London housekeeper, Mrs. Thomas, to redecorate one of the family apartments. Mr. Bingley chose this time to see his own solicitor about terminating the lease at Netherfield and begin inquiries into any eligible purchases in a near location to Derbyshire.

The gentlemen left for town on Monday, April 13th. Even though the ladies had been given a week's notice of their departure, it was still a sad hour. Elizabeth had grown quite used to their company and felt herself quite dependent on Mr. Darcy for all her needs and comforts. It is not that she was not self-sufficient, but since Jane's death, she liked very much knowing that she did not have to be, she liked knowing she could depend on someone else to help her. Since the time Mr. Tuesby had hurt her, she was sometimes afraid of being alone, even though she knew he was out of England.

It was a teary farewell for Georgiana who felt deeply any separation from her brother, no matter how short a time it would be. Elizabeth said her farewell in the hall to allow Georgiana time alone with her brother outside. Georgiana hugged him closely and wept into his shoulder, begging his speedy return. She felt insecure away from him, particularly for the first few days, as she was reminded all over again of those feelings that accompanied the death of her father. Darcy was well aware of what she was feeling, and it pained him to have to tear himself from her grasp, but he must be off, he told her, if he was to return by the end of next week.

"Of course, Fitzwilliam." She meekly replied. "I am sorry."

"I understand how you are feeling. Miss Bennet is here. Take comfort in her."

Georgiana brightened at the thought. She had forgotten all about Elizabeth.

"Yes. Thank you, brother. Have a safe journey, and please write often." With that, she kissed him on the cheek. He stepped into the carriage, where Bingley was already waiting, and away they went to London.

"Well, Bingley, this is my first time away from Elizabeth since she came to Netherfield. I do not think I shall like it. I wish I did not have to go. It takes every ounce of my strength not to turn this coach around right now, and we are not even out of the park yet."

"You must care for her a great deal, Darcy."

"I do, Bingley. I love her very much. Bingley, how are you doing? How are you dealing with your loss?"

"I suppose I am recovering. I am glad you brought us to Pemberley. It was the right thing to get us out of Netherfield. I am feeling better and I believe that Miss Bennet is, also. I miss Jane very much."

"I know you do, but you will love again. You must."

"That is what Miss Elizabeth said. She said that for herself, and she that this is what Jane would want for me. It is just hard to imagine myself with anybody else. But it is also so hard to be alone now."

"You are a very sensitive man, my friend. You are a person who needs to love and needs to be loved. You should not apologize, nor feel bad for it." Darcy hesitated for a moment to gauge his friend's mood. He had something to say that he wanted Bingley to hear, but he did not want to offend him. "Bingley, there is someone who is very much similar in disposition to Jane, sweet tempered, kind, gentle hearted, and who I believe does love you and could love you very much more."

"Who do you mean?"

"My sister, Georgiana."

"Darcy ... Georgiana? But I think of her as my friend and your sister." Bingley glanced out the window. He said impatiently, "Jane has not been buried a year." And more angrily, "Of what are you thinking?"

"Bingley, I am not saying you have to do anything, I am only suggesting a possibility. Who better to love than your friend? A part of you will always love Jane, and Georgiana will not expect you to forget Jane. Indeed, your challenge may be in convincing her that accepting your affection may not be disrespectful to Jane and her dear friend Elizabeth. Talk with Georgiana. She will accept whatever attention you give her at whatever pace you choose to proceed."

"Do you truly believe this is the right thing for me?"

"You will have to decide that. I can only say that she has the ability to soothe much of that ache you feel in your heart and soul. And I know that you, of all people, deserve to have that pain taken away."

"I have your consent, then?"

"You have my consent to court her, Bingley. Should you offer her your hand, and she accept it, you will have to ask again," Darcy replied with a smile.

Bingley spent much of his unoccupied time thinking about this conversation. It was true, he had to confess, that he was a better man for having been loved by Jane. Miss Elizabeth had told him that Jane would want him to love someone else and to be happy. He did not love Georgiana, he had never thought of her in that way, but he had to agree with Darcy, in that if there ever was a young woman of similar nature to Jane, it was Georgiana. But would not this be a betrayal to Jane? If Jane were alive he would never consider it. But they had had no home together, no children together, nothing. There was nothing for him to grasp hold of. He could either join Jane in the grave, though appear to be living or try to move slightly forward with his life. Georgiana would not expect him to forget Jane. She would not be affronted by her memory. Any other woman would. Darcy was connected to Jane in life and death. Darcy would marry Miss Elizabeth in the fall. He would soon come to love Georgiana, and could surround himself with those same friends who had shared his greatest pain. There would be no need for new attachments, new relations. All the love he needed in the world was already his. Darcy was right. He had Darcy's consent, to be sure, but perhaps more important would be one other person's. He would not do anything that would hurt Miss Elizabeth.

Bingley and Darcy returned to Pemberley within the appointed ten days time. Their business had gone well. Most important to Bingley, Netherfield was now gone. He had gladly paid off the rest of the lease just to be rid of the place. His servants would be moving his belongings back into his townhouse in London. Some other time he would look for an estate in the country, perhaps some place in Derbyshire. Darcy would know what to do.

Georgiana was overjoyed to see her brother safely returned. He had written to her from London giving her the expected day and time of their arrival, but so many things could go wrong, and Georgiana had been nervous all day. Finally, they heard the sound of a carriage, and there they were. Georgiana ran out the door to greet him as a servant pulled down the step. Elizabeth was also pleased to see them. She had felt no less nervous, but had done a better job of hiding it. When she asked herself the reason, she either could not or would not know why, but she felt a great sense of relief and pleasure knowing that Mr. Darcy had returned to Pemberley.

The next day was warm and beautiful, like all spring days should be, and Elizabeth could not resist the urge to walk out alone in the morning to enjoy the air, smells and sounds, so, while everyone (she thought) was at their usual morning employment, she escaped for an hour of refreshing solitude. Elizabeth had barely left the house when she heard the sound of footsteps behind her. For just a moment, she thought it might be Mr. Darcy. While quickly berating herself for having such silly thoughts, Mr. Bingley came up beside her.

"Good morning, Miss Bennet."

"Good morning to you, Mr. Bingley. I thought you were busy in the library."

"I must confess I was keeping an eye on you, hoping you would be tempted out on such a day that I might have the opportunity of speaking with you alone."

"Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Bingley?"

"I do not know how to begin. I am afraid of offending, of being disrespectful."

"Mr. Bingley, I doubt very much that you could ever offend me, much less ever be disrespectful towards me. Is it of Jane that you wish to speak?"

"Yes, in a way it is. You once told me that she would want me to love again, to be happy, to remember her." He stopped walking and looked down and then facing her said, "How can I do those things together?"

Elizabeth paused. She had to craft her answer carefully. What she said could affect Mr. Bingley for quite awhile, and she would not be held responsible for his happiness or lack thereof. "I know that Jane would want you to be happy. I know that she would want you to remember her. I know that she would not want you to stop living because of her."

"Ah ... Jane," Bingley whispered. Elizabeth noticed tears in his eyes. He continued, "I do not know if I can or ought to do this."

"Do what, Mr. Bingley?"

"Ever love someone else."

"You can, Mr. Bingley, and you must. For Jane's sake, your comfort, and my own satisfaction."

"Satisfaction, Miss Bennet?"

"Yes. In knowing that in loving Jane so well, and being loved by her, you have found that you cannot do without those feelings in your life. It would give me great satisfaction to know you are happy with another. I know you would not forget Jane. There would always be a small place in your heart for her."

"It is of this I would like to speak, Miss Bennet. Mr. Darcy has made an observation to me, and has told me that I am a person that must love and be loved, or I cannot be happy. He has told me there is one, he feels, who could love me and that I could love in return, and that this person would not be threatened by memories of Jane or ask me to give them up."

"And do you agree with him, Mr. Bingley?"

"I do. He is right. And what Jane, you, and he want for me could all come to pass for me in a relationship with this woman. I do not love her now, but I respect her very much, and she is a good friend of mine, and I could easily love her, if I could reconcile myself." Elizabeth hoped he was not referring to herself. She knew she could never love him, though she could not say why. "I have known her a long time, and have no doubts as to the goodness of her character."

"Mr. Bingley, if you are seeking my permission to court a young woman, you certainly do not need it. I shall not interfere in your affairs."

"But I am seeking your consent, Miss Elizabeth. I could do nothing that would offend either you or Jane's memory.

"I assure you, sir, you would be doing neither."

"Thank you for your assurances. I have not wanted to do the wrong thing. I have been afraid to do anything, to even speak to you."

"Oh, Mr. Bingley, you should know by now that you do not need to be afraid of me. Pray tell me, if it is possible, who is this young woman?"

"Georgiana Darcy." By now, Elizabeth was not surprised to hear this name.

All spring days are not pleasant, and on this day towards the end of April it had rained most of the day. Elizabeth had chosen to spend the morning in her room by the fire reading all the letters she had received from anyone since the time of Jane's illness. There were not many and all of them were horrible and the memories they brought back were horrible. How could her mother, her own mother, accuse her of hurting Jane? Things would have been so much simpler if she had just died with Jane. Indeed, part of her had.

She felt ill. She wanted to cry but tears would not come. Her shoulders ached and her stomach hurt. She knew she should put away the letters and lie down or go walk out for some air, but she would not take the trouble to move away from her memories or from the fireplace. Would this never end?

There was a knock at her door from her dressing room, a sure sign of her maid.

"Come in."

"Ma'am, are you ready to dress for dinner?"

Dinner. Elizabeth suddenly felt overwhelmed by the thought of having to dress, of having to do anything at all. "No, I shall not be going down for dinner today. If you would please tell them I am ill and will not be joining them."

"I will have Cook prepare a tray for you to take in your room, ma'am."

"No, thank you, I will not care to eat. Ask that I not be disturbed."

"Yes, ma'am."

Darcy was the first to arrive in the drawing room. He always enjoyed dinner with his friends. He felt good knowing he was able to provide for them, and their conversation was so engaging that he wished every meal would never end. Georgiana and Bingley soon joined him, but not Miss Bennet, which was curious, for she was never late. A footman came to Mr. Darcy with a note, apparently from Elizabeth's maid, informing him that Miss Bennet would not be down for dinner, that she gave no reason for her absence, but wished not to be disturbed. Elizabeth's maid wanted him to know that Miss Bennet refused that anything be taken up to her from the kitchen. Darcy's brow wrinkled in frustration.

"Brother, what is the matter?"

"It is Miss Bennet. She will not be coming down to dinner, nor will she take anything in her room. She has asked that she not be disturbed."

Chapter 12

Posted on Thursday, 10 October 2002

"That is not like her at all," said Georgiana. "I wonder if she is ill. But she would have told us. Something must be very wrong. You two must dine without me, I am going to go to her."

"But she asked not to be disturbed," said Darcy, who did not know what to do.

"Well, I am going to disturb her. I will break the door down if I must, but I am not doing to leave her alone with whatever she is thinking or feeling. It must be awful, or she would come down to be with us." And with that, she gave them a doubtful smile and went upstairs towards Elizabeth's room.

When Georgiana arrived outside the door, she stopped to listen quietly. She could not hear anything, so she knocked gently on the door. She received no response.

She knocked again, a little more firmly this time. "Lizzy, it is Georgie"

Once again, Georgiana received no response. "Lizzy, please let me come in. I am so afraid. Please!"

She waited again. She was sure Elizabeth would answer, but she did not. Georgiana was becoming quite alarmed.

"Lizzy, I am not going to leave you in there alone. I am going to come in now even if you will not let me in." Georgiana carefully turned the doorknob and walked quietly in the room. Elizabeth was not in the bed. She walked softly towards the other end of the room, towards the fireplace. As she grew close, she saw Elizabeth on the sofa with her knees brought up against her chest. Her whole body was shaking, as if she was chilled from a high fever. Elizabeth was staring blankly into the fire and seemed unaware of Georgiana's presence in the room.

Georgiana continued to walk towards her, calling her name, "Lizzy? It is I, Georgie. Will you not say anything to me?"

Elizabeth did not answer. Georgiana went to her and sat down on the couch next to her.

"Lizzy." Georgiana reached out her hand and touched Elizabeth's shoulder. Elizabeth recoiled from the touch, quite startled, and stared at Georgiana. Gradually a look of recognition greeted Georgiana. She shuddered to think what could have happened had she left Elizabeth to herself all night.

"Come here, love," she said to Elizabeth. She helped her turn on the sofa and lean down so that Georgiana was cradling her against her chest, like an infant, supporting her head in the crook of her elbow. Elizabeth had stopped shaking.

Suddenly, Elizabeth cried, "Georgie, do you think that I killed Jane?" And with those words, she broke out into tears, crying almost hysterically at times. Georgiana held Elizabeth close to her body, stroking her hair and shoulder.

"Lizzy, you would not have hurt your sister. Mr. Bingley has told me all that you did for her, day after day, night after night. There was nothing more you could have done. You did everything right. Jane was just too ill. It is so sad, Lizzy, I know how you feel. I remember the pain I felt and still feel from the death of my father. I never knew my mother."

"But my mother said..."

"Do not listen to her. I know what she says, and she is wrong. She was not with you at Netherfield. She does not know all the work and effort you did in Jane's behalf, how you helped the physician and nursed her. She is looking for an excuse for her own failure as a mother. I am sorry to pain you further. Those are cruel words. But she is trying to hurt you, and you do not deserve it. Please do not listen to her. Believe the ones that truly love you, the ones who were there. Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy do not believe that you did anything but try to save her. Oh, Lizzy."

Elizabeth continued to cry for most of the night while Georgiana held her and comforted her until Georgiana had to cry with her. Elizabeth's pain was so profound, it swallowed up everything around her.

The gentleman dined without the ladies. They were concerned, nervous, uncertain, but felt they could do nothing but trust Georgiana and hope that Elizabeth would be well in the morning. They amused themselves with a game or two of billiards after dinner, but had no heart for it and decided to retired rather early.

Mr. Darcy could not sleep; he was too worried about Elizabeth. What had gone wrong? Had he done something to disturb her? He felt all the frustration of a lover helpless in the face of struggles in the life of his beloved. He wanted to send a maid for word, but knew Georgiana would tell him about Elizabeth as soon as she could, and any interruption would be unwelcome. He would respect their privacy. He was never so grateful as now for his decision to bring Georgiana from London to be with Elizabeth and himself. She and Elizabeth had become dear friends, with which he was so pleased. And never before, it seemed, did Elizabeth need a friend as much as she did tonight.

Georgiana kept Elizabeth in her bed the next day. She ordered tea to be brought to her from the kitchen and fed Elizabeth herself. She stayed with her the whole day, trying to sleep in a chair when Elizabeth slept, but keeping a constant vigil over her friend. Elizabeth had finally stopped crying late into the night and Georgiana and persuaded her and helped her to change into her nightclothes and go to bed. Georgiana felt helpless. What could she do for her that would protect Elizabeth from such a night ever again?

Mrs. Reynolds, the housekeeper at Pemberley, came to Elizabeth's room to inquire of Georgiana regarding Miss Bennet's health on behalf of Mr. Darcy, who was quite anxious and concerned. Georgiana did not have a fair report to give her, relating briefly the details of the night and her plans for attending to Elizabeth throughout the day. Mrs. Reynolds offered to send up Elizabeth's maid to sit with her so that Georgiana could retire to her own room for some needed rest, but she refused to leave Elizabeth.

"Thank you for your thoughtfulness, Mrs. Reynolds, but I cannot leave Miss Bennet. Please reassure my brother that I am well."

Elizabeth did not wake up much during the day, and when she did, she did not speak. She would follow Georgiana's instructions to eat and drink, but would not or could not respond to her questions. That night, Elizabeth seemed to sleep much more peacefully, and Georgiana was encouraged as to her health. During the night, she slipped out to her own room to rest.

Elizabeth's mind was in a torment. No matter how hard she tried, she could not wake up. She had repeated dreams of placing Jane in her coffin. In some dreams, Elizabeth would find herself buried in Jane's coffin, only to discover herself alive and trapped. Her mind would scream but her voice would remain silent. In another dream, she imagined her whole family gathered around her as she stood next to Jane, accusing her of murdering Jane, pointing their fingers at her, screaming at her, taunting her, beating her with their fists, stripping her of her clothes, leaving her naked in a road, bruised and torn, laughing at her. There was nowhere for her to go, no one to comfort her, no place to hide. She was shamed and embarrassed. In another dream, she was a little girl with a skinned knee, running into the house crying. She went to her mother for comfort, who just laughed at her and told her she was too busy for her and to go away. She went to her father in his library and he told her to get out so that her blood would not stain the leather furniture. She finally ran to Jane, and Jane asked her, 'Why did you kill me?'

"I examined her thoroughly, Mr. Darcy, and I can find nothing wrong with her physically. She would not answer any of my questions. It appeared that she did not even hear me, but if I gave her a command, such as 'lift your arm,' she would follow it precisely. Has she suffered any head injuries or any type of nervous trauma?"

"Mr. Edwards, her sister died in November. They were very close, the best of friends. She has been estranged from her family since then. I suppose the strain and pressure of this became too much for her, I did not realize how much so."

"Well, sir, I will come everyday to examine her. I do not know what to tell you regarding her condition. She seems to be healthy, but it appears to be just the shell of a happy young woman."

"Thank you for coming, Mr. Edwards."

Everyday Georgiana would help Elizabeth's maid dress her and she would take her on walks out in the pleasure gardens. She would talk to Elizabeth about anything she could think of, telling her everything she could about her own life. Every now and then she thought she saw a spark of recognition in Elizabeth's eyes, but just as quickly it would pass away. During the rest of the day, she would sit in the drawing room and stare out the window.

Darcy was half agony, half hopelessness. His Elizabeth had somehow been taken from him, and he was powerless to do anything about it. He sat with her in the drawing room, holding her hand, talking to her about all the affairs of the estate, anything he could think of. When they were alone, he opened his heart to her. He told her that he had fallen in love with her ever since she had come to Netherfield; that she had touched his heart and soul in a way no one had ever done before or would again. He told her about the beauty he saw in her eyes, in the silky softness of her skin, in the lightness of her touch. He told her about the energy that he felt pour through him whenever he kissed her hand, or whenever she took his arm. He explained the passion she had ignited in him that would find an outlet only in her. He told her how he wanted her to be the mistress of Pemberley, to bring her ringing laughter to the silent halls of his childhood home. He explained his hopes of enjoying a family with her, of seeing her beauty in the faces of their children, which would be as dear to him as she was. He spoke of how he missed her voice, her conversation, her teasing and playfulness. He told her how much he loved her, and would always love her, and if this was all she could give him, then he would gladly take it, and would love and protect her for the rest of her life, and that she would stay with him always, and that she should not be afraid.

Elizabeth heard everything. The dreams had finally stopped, in fact, she had no dreams at all, which was a relief. She was no longer afraid of falling asleep and had started to feel rested again in the mornings. The days seemed so long, and the walks with Georgie nearly consumed her strength. It was all she could do not to collapse when they arrived back. She loved Georgie very much. She did not know what she would have done without her constant care. Was this how Jane would have felt? Is it possible that she did not hurt Jane, but that Jane was comforted by her, that her mother was wrong? Mr. Darcy told her that he loved her. Elizabeth was surprised at the boldness of his confession, though she did grant that possibly he thought she did not hear him. But she did, and she was grateful to him for his affection. She knew two people loved her now, sincerely loved and appreciated her, and that nothing in this world would take that away from her. Mr. Darcy would not love her if she were that bad of a person, to be sure, and she had long ago decided to trust him. She knew she could trust him. If he loved her, then she could love herself. And she would love him. She did love him. She would accept him. She would become his wife, his companion, his friend, the mother of his children, the mistress of Pemberley. She would allow him to protect her and love her for the rest of her life.

"Mr. Edwards, is there any change in Miss Bennet?" asked Mr. Darcy. He was praying for a positive answer. But he knew he did not need the apothecary to tell him her condition. He spent enough time with her to tell. He would know when she began to improve. He would be the first to know.

"Mr. Darcy, she is healthy and fit. She is being well cared for, and I commend you and your sister for it. But as to her mind, I can find no change."

"Thank you, Mr. Edwards."

The following day, while Elizabeth was sitting in the drawing room, she felt a weight being lifted off of her shoulders. She blinked her eyes in wonderment as to where she was, and began to turn her head to look around her. Darcy saw her action and immediately went over and sat next to her, watching her carefully. She turned her head and looked at him straight in the eyes. He felt that she was piercing his soul, and he knew then that she had heard every endearing word he had ever spoken to her. She slowly raised her hand to his face, cupping his cheek and said, "Thank you for finding me, sir."

He took her hand in both of his, slowly kissed her fingers and held it to his heart. "Thank you for being there, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth quickly regained her physical strength, and slowly regained her mental stamina. She would easily startle at sudden noises, preferred quiet conversation to laughter, and spent much of her time in the drawing room, looking out the window, but this time with a feeling of resolve. Georgiana or Mr. Darcy would often sit with her. They rarely spoke, as this appeared to them to be a time of healing and rest to Elizabeth. And indeed it was. Jane was gone, her family was gone, but Elizabeth was still loved and cherished and did not have to feel alone. Not only would she live, she could be happy.

It was a pleasant day in the first week of May when Georgiana took Elizabeth out for a long walk in the park. Georgiana had much to tell her but did not know where to begin.

"Lizzy, how are you feeling?" Georgiana was still worried about Elizabeth. She knew that Elizabeth could put on a strong face but really be hurting.

"Georgie, I am fine. I am still a little weak, and my mind does wander, but I am able to rest, and you take such good care of me that I want for nothing. I could not ask for a better friend than you, Georgie. You have indeed helped me to realize that I could not have hurt Jane at all, that my mother is wrong. You have been such a comfort to me, and I know that I would have been the same for Jane. I understand now that she was just too ill, that there was nothing that could be done.

"I am so glad to hear that from you, Lizzy. And I know it to be true. You could never hurt anybody. I know that Jane must have been so glad to have you there. Indeed, Mr. Bingley has told me on many occasions about your love and devotion to her. He loved her very much, you must know."

"Yes, he did, Georgie. His loss was very severe. I feel so bad for him. They were a perfect couple. But Georgie, he must love again. Jane would want that for him." Elizabeth stopped their walk and turned to face Georgiana.

"Georgie, do you love Mr. Bingley?" Asked Elizabeth coyly.

"Oh, Lizzy, do not be angry with me, please!" Georgiana sounded almost frantic.

Elizabeth took her hand, "Georgie, I am not angry. If you love Mr. Bingley, and he returns your affection, I am happy for you both."

"I do not want to offend you or be disrespectful to Jane's memory. I love you as if you were my sister and would not do anything to hurt you, and would give up anything to keep your love."

"Georgiana, please listen to me. Mr. Bingley cannot spend the rest of his life pining after Jane. He will always have a place in his heart for her. Will that be offensive to you?"

"Oh, no, I would not want him to give up his memories of her. I want to share his life, not take it from him."

"You have many of the qualities about you that he admired in Jane. You are very kind and gentle. You have a tender heart and I know would love him very much. You would allow him to heal and together you would build your own life. He would have his best friend for a brother. Who could ask for better connections?"

"Thank you, Lizzy. Thank you so much. But Lizzy, you must not leave me. If Mr. Bingley makes me an offer, you must come and live with us. I cannot bear the thought of you leaving."

"I told you before, Georgie, that I would consider it. I can say that it would hard for me to be away from you. But it is many months before that might happen, if it does, so let us remain happy."

The very next day, Bingley, Georgiana and Elizabeth were out walking together. Elizabeth had arranged herself to be on the far side of Georgiana, so that Georgiana was firmly attached to Bingley's arm and chatting primarily with him. Elizabeth did not mind. It was obvious that these two needed a little help, and perhaps a few minutes alone in the park would be welcome to them.

"Mr. Bingley," cried Elizabeth, "I need to run back to the house for a moment, but I shall not go if you two do not continue without me."

"Miss Bennet, we can accompany you. You should not have to be alone," said Bingley.

"Well, sir, I know my way around here very well, and I think I can manage easily. I shall catch up to you in a few minutes. Please do not spoil the picturesque by not continuing without me."

"Are you sure, Lizzy?"

"Yes, Georgie. You will not even know that I have been gone." And with that, Elizabeth turned towards the house, and in a very unladylike gesture, gathered her skirts and ran off. Bingley and Georgiana, no longer surprised by what she might do, just laughed for a moment, then returned to the path.

"Miss Darcy, I would like to take this moment, while we are alone, to let you know that I have received your brother's permission to court you." Bingley held his breath.

"Thank you, Mr. Bingley, for asking. I would welcome any attention that you could spare for me."

"You are teasing me, Miss Darcy."

"Indeed, I am not, sir. I am very serious. I am grateful for the time you spend with me, and if my brother has given you his consent to court me, and this is your wish, well then, sir, I welcome it very much."

"Thank you, Miss Darcy. I am glad to know that I am welcome. I did not know how you would feel, as you knew how I felt about Jane, and her death being so recent."

"I am sensitive to that matter, sir, and I grieve with you. There will always be a place in your heart for her, which place I will share, as long as I have the rest." She had to smile at him. This was quite forward of her to say so, and perhaps a little provocative as well, especially for two people just courting.

"I appreciate your understanding. Your brother said that this would be your opinion, and encouraged me to talk to you. I am glad I did."

"Mr. Bingley, I have something to say to you that might make you change your mind about wishing to know me better in such an intimate way."

"Miss Darcy, I cannot imagine any such circumstance. Please, do not be afraid on my account."

"Well, I am afraid. Very much so. Do you know Mr. George Wickham?"

"I may have heard his name."

"Last summer, I was attended to Ramsgate by my governess, Mrs. Younge, who apparently had a connection with Mr. Wickham. Mr. Wickham was a childhood friend of my brother, and I also knew him. He spent hours providing amusement for me, and I liked him very well. When I encountered him at Ramsgate, it was not difficult for him to persuade me to believe that I was in love with him."

Chapter 13

Posted on Monday, 14 October 2002

Bingley started to feel a little uncomfortable. "Miss Darcy, you do not have to be relating this account to me."

"Indeed I do, sir. You must know what I am before you decide on any type of future with me. I cannot form any type of attachment with you only to have you hate me later when the truth comes out." Georgiana was becoming upset. Tears were forming in her eyes.

"Mr. Wickham told me that he was not on good terms with my brother, and that he would never consent to a marriage between us. We decided, then, that we must go to Scotland and be married, that we must elope." A tear rolled down her cheek. "My brother unexpectedly came to Ramsgate to see me, just two days before we were to be off for Scotland. Mr. Wickham told me to tell my brother nothing about our planned elopement, but I could not conceal anything from him. Mr. Bingley, my brother was so disappointed in me. He told me that Mr. Wickham could never make me happy, that all he wanted was my dowry, that he would make my life miserable and break my heart, that he did not love me at all, despite what he may be telling me. He told me that if I were to marry against his wishes, that he could withhold my dowry until I reached age thirty. He told me to tell Mr. Wickham that news. He also informed me that he was not my sole guardian, but that my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, was joined in my guardianship, and that I should tell him that as well."

"I left my brother's lodgings in a fit of anger and went to where Mr. Wickham was staying. I told him that we must away that very night for Scotland. I then told him what my brother had said about my dowry. Mr. Wickham got a strange look on his face. He questioned me, asking if I was sure that it was true, that I would not receive any money until I was thirty. I said that it was so. I told Mr. Wickham that this did not matter, that we were in love and should be off right away, that all would work out to our benefit and blessing. And then the most horrible thing happened. Mr. Wickham began to laugh. He laughed so hard he almost was crying. And he was laughing at me. I asked him why. And he said that he could never be in love with me, his enemy's sister, that all he wanted was my money and revenge on my brother, that he never cared for me at all, and that if he had to wait until I was thirty to get at my dowry, I was of no use to him at all. Then he picked up a bag, looked at me one last time, started laughing again, and walked out the door. I had been completely abandoned. Completely humiliated."

"Miss Darcy, what an awful thing to have happen to you. I am so sorry. What did you do?"

"I did not know what to do. I knew that eventually I would have to face my brother. I decided he was the only person I could be safe with, so I went back to his lodgings and told him all that had happened. I expected him to be so angry with me, but he was not. He was kind and gentle, loving and forgiving. I will never forget how well he treated me. I felt safe and protected. The next morning we left directly for Pemberley."

"Mr. Bingley, I want you to know this, to know what kind of woman you may be getting yourself involved with, unsteady, ridiculous, and unworthy of true affection."

"Not so, Miss Darcy. You were deceived by a cruel fortune hunter that took advantage of your loving heart and innocent trust, characteristics that make you the special young lady that you are. You need not be ashamed of what happened. You secret is safe with me, safe in that I think more highly of you than I did. You found you had made an error, and you corrected it as soon as possible by going to your brother directly. You showed great strength and resolve. Any man who does not prize that in a woman is a fool."

"Are you sure, Mr. Bingley? I do not want to lose your good opinion," cried Georgiana, with more tears.

Bingley stepped closer to her, took her hand and gently raised it to his lips and gave it a soft, lingering kiss that shocked them both with its warmth and passion. "I am very sure, Miss Darcy. Very sure indeed. You need not worry on my account."

Georgiana gasped for breath and turned away from him as she colored. Bingley noticed her discomposure with satisfaction, and then turned the topic of conversation.

"I wonder where Miss Bennet is," asked Bingley.

"I know where she is not, and will not likely be for the rest of the afternoon," answered Georgiana.

"And pray, where is that?"

"With us," she giggled.

"Well, then, shall we continue our walk around this area of the park?"

"Certainly, sir, I would be happy to."

At dinner that day, Darcy announced that he had received an invitation to a ball at Hillcock Manor, to be given by his friend, Lord Beecham, on Thursday, May 7th. The invitation included himself and three guests. The news, however, did not receive an enthusiastic reception. All were very aware that Elizabeth, in mourning, would be unable to accept the invitation, and leaving her alone seemed unconscionable.

Elizabeth spoke first in a cheerful, encouraging voice. "Mr. Darcy, you are well aware that it is impossible for me to accept this invitation. But I would be very pleased if you, Georgiana and Mr. Bingley were to go and tell me all about it when you returned. It sounds like it will be a happy affair, and by no means should you suspend your pleasure on my account."

"But Lizzy, how could we possibly think of leaving you here alone?" asked Georgiana.

"Very easily, Georgie. You know I spend a lot of my time alone in quiet reflection. I will have Mrs. Reynolds to keep me company. I will ask Mr. Darcy to choose a book for me from his library for me to spend the evening with, and I shall retire early. I shall be very happy indeed knowing you are at a ball, having a wonderful time." Elizabeth glanced from Georgiana to Mr. Bingley, causing them to smile and blush. "Indeed, it would hurt me very much to know you were to refuse the invitation just because of me. Does that mean you intend to remain house bound for the next six months of my mourning? Please go to the ball and be happy. You have given me a great deal of care and comfort. You deserve a night of pleasure."

"Are you sure, Lizzy? I would gladly remain with you," replied Georgiana, very sincerely.

"I am very sure, Georgie."

Thursday finally came. Elizabeth assisted with Georgiana's maid to help her dress and arrange her hair. When they had finished, Georgiana looked in the mirror and told them that she had never looked as well as she did then.

"Thank you, Lizzy. You cannot imagine how important tonight is for me."

"Yes I can. I know you have your heart set on Mr. Bingley. Do not worry, you look beautiful. I have never seen you in greater beauty. He will surely be in love with you after tonight. You must tell me how it all goes off."

Elizabeth saw them safely off into the carriage. She felt gloomy when they left. She would prefer not to be alone, but she was in mourning, and it would not be proper to go. For Jane's sake she would not go, and she would not interfere with their lives. To entertain herself, Elizabeth decided to walk the halls of Pemberley. She decided to start with the picture gallery on the third floor. She looked at all the former residents of Pemberley trying to find similarities in features between them and Mr. Darcy. From time to time she thought she saw that same shape of mouth or look in the eye, but she decided that he was mostly unique. She made her way down the gallery to his likeness. There he was, looking down at her. She had seen the gallery before on a quick tour of the place when she first came to Pemberley, but this was her first chance to study it. She was glad to be alone.

Elizabeth thought back to the time that he had found her after the scene at the officer's ball in Meryton. She had felt so warm and protected when he held her, and she knew then that he would be the standard by which she would judge other men. She remembered the way he looked at her when she was at Netherfield attending Jane. At first she did not know what to think, but she soon knew that this look was one of affection. He seemed to be very concerned about her, and he told her to trust him, which she did, and he had been faithful to her on every occasion since. It could only be a proof of his love, which he had confessed to her during her illness, a confession he did not know she heard.

She would never forget his words to her, how he had told her that he had fallen in love with her since she had come to Netherfield, about the beauty in her eyes, the softness of her skin, the lightness of her touch. She would not forget when he told her about how he felt when he kissed her hand or when she took his arm, or the passion that he felt for her, how he wanted her to be the mistress of Pemberley, to make it a home with her laughter, to enjoy a family with her. She remembered how warm she had felt when he told her how much he loved her, and would love her, and how he would protect her for the rest of her life, and that she would stay with him always and not to be afraid. How could she not be moved by such a declaration of love as this? Staring up at his likeness, his eyes looking down at her, she remembered every word he said to her.

"Yes, Mr. Darcy, I love you, too. I feel the same passion when you kiss my hand or when I take your arm. I would like nothing more than to be the mistress of Pemberley, to be protected and loved by you. Thank you, Mr. Darcy, for loving me. Please tell me again, sir, now that I am able to answer you.

Friday morning, Georgiana came to Elizabeth in her room rather early to talk about the ball.

"Oh, Lizzy, it was wonderful. My brother insisted on the first two dances, but then Mr. Bingley asked me for the next two. Dancing with him was heavenly. Being wrapped up in his arms I thought I should faint from pleasure, had I not wanted to assure myself that I was not dreaming. I then danced with Lord Beecham's son, and then his nephew. They were both very gentlemanlike, and seemed as though they would enjoy my thirty thousand pounds very much, and me just a little." Georgiana had to stop here and both girls laughed.

"And then I danced the next two with Charles, uh, Mr. Bingley..."

"Georgie ... Charles?" Lizzy said in a surprised tone of voice.

"When alone, we agreed to address each other by our Christian names." Georgiana said shyly.

"So, how was this second dance with Charles?" Elizabeth teased.

"Just like the first. I wished it could have lasted all night. Mr. Bingley asked my brother if he would consent to him asking me to dance a third time. My brother asked Charles if we had come to any kind of agreement between us. He said we had not. Then my brother said that perhaps for propriety's sake we should not dance the third time."

"Your brother is very wise, Georgie, I hope you are not angry with him."

"No I am not. I know he only wants my happiness, and I would be mortified to overstep the bounds of decorum, even for Charles. So we just talked together the rest of the evening. We tried to include my brother, but he would just smile at me and then walk off to talk to someone else. I do not know why."

Elizabeth had to smile at this picture of Mr. Darcy the matchmaker. "Shall we go down for breakfast? We do not want to keep the gentlemen waiting, do we?" she said with a wink to Georgiana, who blushed in a becoming manner.

When they arrived downstairs, they found that Mr. Darcy had left early for an inspection of part of his estate. Mr. Bingley was waiting for them. He greeted the ladies very cheerfully, and seemed to be in as good of spirits as Georgiana was.

"How did you enjoy the ball, Mr. Bingley?" asked Elizabeth, full well knowing the answer.

"I liked it very much," he said with a sidelong glance at Georgiana that did not go unnoticed by Elizabeth.

"Well, I am very glad. And how do you think Mr. Darcy liked it?"

"He seemed pleasant enough, which is saying quite a lot for Darcy at a ball. He only danced with Georgiana and Miss Beecham, and spent most of his time with other gentlemen who chose not dance, but preferred to discuss politics and sport.

"I do hope he did not pass his time unpleasantly," said Elizabeth, somewhat relieved that his list of dancing partners was so short.

"The only comment of regret I heard him utter throughout the evening was that he wished you could have been there, a feeling we all shared, I am sure." Elizabeth turned away as she colored, not wanting to give rise to any supposition on Bingley or Georgiana's part regarding her feelings for Darcy.

While they were eating, a footman came in with the post, giving a letter to Elizabeth. She was shocked to find it was a letter from her sister, Mary. Trembling in apprehension, she folded the missive into her skirts and ran out the door. She crossed the pleasure grounds and into the park, where she was sure of seclusion. The fact that Mary would write to her was such a marvelous thought that she could hardly bear it. If anyone, she had expected to hear from her father. To be sure, she had been disappointed by his silence. She fell against a tree, lingering in its shade and broke the seal, reading the following:

Longbourn, Thursday, May 7th

Dearest Lizzy,

I do hope that you will forgive me for not writing to you, Lizzy. Mama forbids it, you know, but I feel I must take the chance on this occasion to write of dreadful news concerning Lydia. To own the truth, she and Mr. Wickham, an officer in the militia regiment quartered here, have eloped and say they are off to Gretna Green. They were off Tuesday night, and were not missed until yesterday morning. Kitty was privy to all the details, and triumphantly told Mama and Papa about the whole business before a search for Lydia started. Apparently he and Lydia agreed to meet on Tuesday night by appointment. There has been a long-standing flirtation between Lydia and Mr. Wickham, but of course Mama found nothing wrong in the business, not willing to turn any suitor away, and Papa was never at any of the assemblies, or even out of his library at home when Wickham was here, to even notice what was going on, so she was allowed to behave just as she felt, much to my disgust, of course. You must know that Lydia and Kitty have been very disrespectful to Jane's memory. They are supposed to be in mourning, yet so often, it seems, they are found meeting with officers somewhere, without their mourning clothes. Papa searches them out and brings them home again. I cannot imagine what he says to the men. Apparently not enough, for Kitty and Lydia do it again and again. To Lydia it is all a great joke, of course, and you know, as you have always said, that Kitty will follow wherever Lydia will lead.

Mr. Wickham is the son of nobody knows whom. He says his father was the steward of Mr. Darcy's estate, and that the late Mr. Darcy had promised him a living in the church, but that your Mr. Darcy had refused to give it to him. I used to believe that story until now. Just this morning, aunt Philips returned from town reporting rumors of Mr. Wickham leaving debts with nearly every tradesman and huge gaming debts. She also reported that some of the tradesman's daughters were not treated well by him. I think it odd that none of this knowledge comes out until now, but even if some of it is true, it certainly lays a black shadow across Mr. Wickham. Poor Lydia. She does not know any of this about him.

Lydia has been very jealous of you since you went off with Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley. She says it would be so much fun to be away from home. I try to tell her that you have been sent away by Mama because of a fierce argument over Jane's death, and that none of it is by your choice, but she would never listen to me. She is the most selfish person I know.

I must get this to Meryton and posted before Mama or the servants know I have written or I shall regret it dearly. Give my compliments to your friends. I hope they are taking good care of you.

Mary

Elizabeth felt as if she had been kicked in the head, the blow was so severe from this news. Wickham! Georgiana had told her about the depravity of this man. Now he had persuaded Lydia to elope with him. Having had pursued Georgiana for her thirty thousand pounds, what did he expect to gain from Lydia? She had fifty pounds a year on the death of their parents. Their father's estate was entailed away on Mr. Collins. What could he do for Lydia? Nothing! Wickham marry Lydia? Impossible! He had only wanted Georgiana for her money, and when he found he could not have that, he laughed at Georgiana and left her alone at Ramsgate. What could persuade him to take Lydia from Meryton?

He was not going to marry Lydia. They were not going to Gretna Green. Was Lydia so lost that she would forget everything and live with him without being married? Was she so stupid not to know he would never marry her, and would eventually leave her somewhere, poor and alone, or worse? Why had she forsaken her mourning and forgotten Jane? Did she not love Jane? Oh Lydia! All the hurt, all the pain of the last days before Jane's death came back to Elizabeth, all the feelings of guilt and thoughts filled with doubt and self-recrimination. "Did I actually hurt Jane? Was Mama right?" Elizabeth slid down the tree trunk to the ground, like a fallen leaf to the grass, and wept all the memories anew.

Darcy had been out on a morning ride, inspecting the park and two tenant fields that were adjacent a near border to it. There was no real reason for the inspection, other than a need just to ride out. Sometimes Pemberley, as large as it was, seemed so small with Elizabeth in it. He loved her so dearly and longed to profess his feelings for her, but he knew it was not yet the time, and patience is not a virtue to a man in love. He was on his way home, lost in thought, when he heard a soft, steady cry.

Chapter 14

Posted on Friday, 18 October 2002

There was hardly a breeze that morning. The air was clear and pure, warm and fresh. It was the air of love, disturbed only by the sound of crying. Darcy's blood chilled. With the discernment of a lover, he knew immediately who that cry was from. He dismounted and followed the sound around a small stand of shrubbery to a large tree. In a heap of skirts and shawl at the base of it was Elizabeth Bennet. He ran to her, knelt beside her, took her up in his arms and held her against his chest. She still cried softly. Her arms were pulled up hard against her soft body. Her skin felt cold. She had not opened her eyes. Darcy looked around him to try to understand what could be the matter, and noticed a letter with a broken seal. It had her name on it and was addressed from Longbourn. Her mother! It had to be her mother again!

Elizabeth's eyes flickered open and she found herself swallowed up in Darcy's gaze. It was filled with a look of agony. Never had she seen him thus. What could be wrong with him? As she began to recollect herself, she realized that he was holding her as he knelt on the ground. The letter! The letter from Mary! Wickham! Oh, should she tell Mr. Darcy? He had told her to trust him.

Darcy was grateful to see her eyes open. It seemed as if she was a moment in recognizing him, as if considering for a moment who he was. He felt profoundly concerned. Then she did the most wonderful thing. She took her arm and wrapped it around his waist helping to support her weight, pulling her body close to him. She had yet to explain herself or to say a word. Darcy dared not speak. He seemed sworn to silence by the look she was giving him, as if an explanation would come when she was ready.

And it did come. Elizabeth decided she would trust him. She had to trust him. She wanted to trust him. Had she not been trusting him since the day she met him? Did she not love him? She draped her arm across her legs and picked up the letter.

"I must thank you once again, sir, for finding me."

"I am grateful, madam, that I was at hand."

"I must reveal to you another terrible secret, a terrible happening that has just occurred in my family. And it does concern your family, in a way. It might justly make you hate me." She paused. How to continue? The truth would soon be known. She must trust him. "Mr. Darcy, my youngest sister, Lydia, has eloped, has thrown herself in the power of Mr. Wickham." She sat up and away from him, coloring from the embarrassment of this current piece of family weakness.

"Are you certain, absolutely certain?"

"Oh yes. They left Meryton earlier this week, by appointment, with the reported intention of going to Gretna Green to be married. Mr. Darcy, Georgiana has told me all about her dealings with Mr. Wickham. I doubt very much that he intends to marry my sister for the fifty pounds a year that she can provide him." Elizabeth rose to her feet and walked a few paces away from him, suddenly uncomfortable by his presence. "I thought you should know."

With that, she walked back towards him and handed him the letter. He took it from her. She stepped back away from him and began a slow walk across the park back to the house.

Darcy read the letter in a growing fury. Wickham! How did he manage to touch everything and everyone he loved? Darcy would not allow him to hurt Elizabeth any more than he already had.

After dinner, when the ladies had separated to the music room, Darcy asked if he could speak with Bingley in the privacy of the library.

"Bingley, I have to go to London in a few days. I would like you to play the host in my absence and take care of Elizabeth...the ladies for me."

"What happened? We were not to go to town until after Miss Bennet's deep mourning."

"Something has come up. Something concerning her family that only I can take care of."

"Like what, Darcy? Can I be of service to you?"

"It concerns Miss Lydia Bennet and my old friend Mr. Wickham."

"Did you say 'Wickham'?" Bingley shot back.

"Yes, do you know him?"

"Georgiana, I mean, Miss Darcy, has told me all about her past relationship with Wickham. What does Miss Lydia have to do with that scoundrel?"

"He has prevailed on her to elope with him, on pretence of marrying her in Gretna Green. Elizabeth does not believe he will marry her, and neither do I. Her father can give Miss Lydia nothing. I believe that he is using Miss Lydia to disturb my life once again by trying to get at me through Elizabeth. Wickham knows that Elizabeth is here because Miss Lydia does. If he can ruin Miss Lydia's reputation and cause a scandal in the family, he must presume that I will no longer allow Elizabeth to remain here. He must assume some form of attachment between her and me, but I cannot allow it to happen. No scandal would change my feelings or intentions towards Elizabeth, but I cannot allow any more pain to enter her life. It is too much, just too much."

"What do you intend for us to do, then?"

"'Us,' Bingley?"

"Yes. I am now as much involved with Wickham as you are, and you will need someone with you when you meet him."

"I do not intend to call him out to a duel, Bingley."

"I know but I do not intend to allow you to do anything else that might be stupid and prevent you from being Miss Bennet's husband sometime in the future."

Bingley and Darcy stared at each other for a moment, and then joined the ladies in the music room. Elizabeth entertained them with two new songs she had been learning with Georgiana. Caroline replaced her and remained at the instrument for quite some time while the other four talked quietly. As was her custom of late, Caroline rose from the instrument, complained of a headache, and went off to bed, joined by her sister. When the four were alone, Darcy began by asking,

"Miss Bennet, will you trust me?" He caught her eye with his, and Elizabeth met his glance, returning his piercing stare. "Yes, Mr. Darcy, I will. I have complete faith in you."

"Then you must please allow me to say what may for a moment pain you."

"As you wish, sir." Bingley and Georgiana looked at each other with no little alarm.

"Georgiana, Miss Bennet's sister, Miss Lydia Bennet, has eloped with Mr. Wickham."

Elizabeth began to color.

Georgiana caught her mouth with her hands and gasped. "No, it cannot be true. That could not ever happen, could it?"

"It could, because he was never publicly set down when he humiliated you, for which you were at no fault, let me say. Also, he knows that Miss Bennet is here and I believe presumes some type of attachment between the two of us."

With this statement, Darcy and Elizabeth renewed their glance with a thickness that was not unnoticed by their companions. All conversation came to a halt. Elizabeth started to blush. Darcy recollected himself and continued.

"It is my opinion that he is using Miss Lydia to try and force one of two things:

"One, some sort of scandal in the Bennet family that would supposedly force me to send Miss Bennet away from my household." Their eye contact resumed for a brief moment.

"Or two, to force me to prevent that from happening, by tracking him down in London, which should not be too difficult, and bribing him. This will be in the form of payments of debts to tradesmen, debts of honor, and the like. What he is also hoping to secure, I imagine, is a sizeable settlement on Miss Lydia that will induce him to marry her, thereby removing the scandal from the Bennet family, leaving Miss Bennet and myself unmolested." Their eyes were drawn together once again while he said, "It is my intention to do just that."

"But, sir," Elizabeth said, "we are talking about my family. We have only caused you grief. You are already burdened by my presence. Surely, you take too much upon yourself. If Lydia had been observing her mourning as she ought, this would not have happened. If you must, find out where they are in hiding and let my father know, he can decide what to do. It need not concern you. You must not put yourself to any trouble on my behalf. I am not worth your trouble and have already been too much of an inconvenience already." Elizabeth was out of breath at the end of this speech. She felt like she had no control over her own life.

Darcy cleared his throat and stated, "Miss Bennet, Elizabeth, please understand that you will never be a burden to me, ever."

A bit of a silence fell over the four friends. The implications of his statement were not misunderstood.

Bingley interrupted the quiet, "Miss Bennet, Mr. Wickham is partially my responsibility now, or may soon be," he glanced briefly at Georgiana, "and I cannot escape the obligation I have, with Mr. Darcy, to rid him of any access to those we love. Please allow us to do this thing."

"What will you do to see that it never happens again?"

Darcy answered her question. "That I cannot tell you, and maybe it is not possible to say that it can be done. But he will be publicly bound to your sister, employment arranged, debts paid, and a place in society given them. Choosing to leave it would be their decision, of course, but not a very intelligent one. It will be uncomfortably done. It does mean your sister marrying while in mourning, but at this point, that cannot be helped. The only question left is, do you, Miss Bennet, wish to come to London with us. You can remain with your Aunt in Gracechurch Street or Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley can come with us and you can stay with them at the townhouse."

"Fitzwilliam," asked Georgiana, "I do not know if I matter at all in this discussion, but if I do, I would prefer Elizabeth go to the townhouse with Mrs. Annesley and me. I desperately want to see that monster made to marry Miss Lydia. I do not want to remain at Pemberley. I have a right to some form of closure in my life, do I not?" Georgiana was proud of the longest speech she had ever uttered to her brother requesting something she was sure she would not get.

"Miss Bennet, do you want to go?"

"Yes, Mr. Darcy. As much as Lydia is to blame in all of this, she will have no one there to rely on, and should have some other woman with her on the occasion of her wedding. Thank you for making it possible for me to be there."

"Miss Bennet, as you know Georgiana so well, what do you think of her request?

"Well Mr. Darcy, I would agree with her under one condition. Can you keep her safe?"

"I can keep you both safe from Wickham physically. Miss Bennet, you will have to see to her heart."

Mr. Darcy told the party that his solicitor had an associate that was skilled at locating 'missing things,' as he put it. In the morning, Mr. Darcy would send an express to his solicitor seeking help in locating Mrs. Younge, Georgiana's former governess, who was a very close acquaintance of Mr. Wickham, and was very sure to know where in London he was staying.

"Good morning, Georgiana"

"Good morning, Elizabeth, can I do anything for you?"

"Well, yes. I was wondering if you would take me into Lambton so that I might order things for the second mourning? I should not need them so soon, but it seems that I cannot wait any longer." Elizabeth's face was tight as a knot and tears were welling up in her eyes. She was unable to fathom how, once again, her family was destroying everything that was precious to her.

Georgiana seemed to get the message. She said nothing but walked over to Elizabeth, took her in her arms, laid her head on her shoulder and gently rubbed her back until she felt Elizabeth gentling sobbing. "I love you, Elizabeth."

After breakfast, it was decided that they would leave for London on Thursday morning, after an early breakfast, spending two nights on the road, arriving at the townhouse by Saturday around dinnertime. The second night they would spend at Meryton. Elizabeth had not been back since they left Netherfield, and she had a desire to see the completed memorial stone in the Bennet chapel wall. She was hoping that by arriving there in the late afternoon she could avoid the notice of her family, who, she was sure, would not take kindly to her appearance. But that could not be helped. Jane was her first priority. Poor Jane.

The whole party went into Lambton on Wednesday to make purchases for the trip. Mr. Bingley wanted some new gloves. While everyone was shopping, Mr. Darcy met his steward at the Lambton Inn to discuss the acquisition of a new parcel of land, just become available, and the two girls went to the modiste to pick up Elizabeth's gowns, then to the milliners, then to the shoe sellers. Elizabeth thought to herself that she had never had so many new things as she had in the past six months. She tried to pick out fabric for the gowns that might eventually be of use for general wear around the house when not in mourning. There was probably not much that could be done about the new bonnets, and certainly not the gloves, but the shawls would probably pass well enough.

The party, including Mrs. Annesley, arrived in Meryton Friday afternoon. Three of the party descended the carriage. The step was put back up and the door quietly shut.

"Rossiter."

"Yes, Mr. Darcy."

"We passed through Longbourn village on our way here, did you happen to see it?"

"Yes sir, it is a fine village, sir."

"Please take Miss Bennet and Miss Darcy to the church. Wait for them one-half hour, or less, if they will, then return them here. Do not under any circumstances leave them alone, even if that means being late. If you are, I will assume you are detained at the church and will come in search of you myself. I am entrusting you with these two young women, Rossiter. Miss Bennet refuses to allow anyone to accompany her but Miss Darcy, so you are my only hope of an escort for her."

"I will not let you down, sir."

"Thank you."

Elizabeth overheard most of Mr. Darcy's instructions to Rossiter. 'I know loves me,' she thought. She wanted to call out to him, and change her mind and have him come along, but no, she must do this alone. Georgiana, being a woman, would understand what she was feeling.

The girls rode to the church in silence. When they arrived, Rossiter stopped the coach, jumped down and handed them out. Elizabeth stood still for a moment, hoping to recognize the familiar sounds of people, birds and animals from the estate. Somehow nothing seemed to be the same, though. How could it be? Jane is dead and gone. Elizabeth did not hear any people, for which Rossiter was grateful. He would be very glad to have these two delivered safely back to Mr. Darcy. He was not certain he liked the implications he felt he heard in Mr. Darcy's tone of voice when given his charge concerning these two young ladies. Recently he had been driving Miss Darcy all over their neighborhood in Derbyshire.

Elizabeth could see the corner of her home. Well, her old home. She was no longer welcomed there. She still did not know why. She walked towards the little chapel. Carved in stone across the top was the word "Bennet" in block letters. Was it a name to be proud of? If she ever married, it would not really be her name anymore. What kind of pride is there in that? Her father had no sons. Does that mean this little chapel gets boarded up after Papa dies? Jane does not belong in here. She is supposed to be a Bingley. Poor Jane. How she loved him. How she loved almost everything. Why did it have to be her? 'It should have been me. I am the one with the bad disposition that disappoints one's parents, which had no marriage prospects, which no one likes. Everybody liked Jane.' Elizabeth had not even gone inside and tears were wetting her cheeks. She had seen so much suffering, and a gravesite is not a place to see less of it.

Georgiana looked on helplessly. She had insisted that Elizabeth allow her to come with her. Now she felt like an absolute intruder, but she would not leave Elizabeth alone. Elizabeth was dealing afresh with Jane's death and with her abandonment by her family. Georgiana was too young to remember her mother dying, but she did remember her father dying, and still had tears for that, and she also understood abandonment quite well, thanks to George Wickham, so she could at least empathize, and could certainly sympathize with Elizabeth's feelings. And so Georgiana just stood there, sometimes watching Elizabeth and sometimes looking around. When Elizabeth moved, she would move with her, making sure Elizabeth had plenty of freedom of motion and a sense of privacy, but still a feeling of connection to Georgiana. When Elizabeth wanted Georgiana, she would be there, and until then, Georgiana would shore up her emotional reserves for what she knew was sure to follow.

As women did not attend funerals, Elizabeth was unsure of where Jane's memorial stone would be. However, she used to play in the chapel as a girl, much to the chagrin of both her father and the rector of Longbourn, so she knew things had changed. She could see where the floor had been broken up to make a place to bury Jane's coffin, and from that point she looked upwards. There it was:

Jane Bennet
Daughter of Thomas Bennet, Esq.
Born 12 Dec 1786
Died 26 Nov 1811

"JANE!" she screamed. "Jane!" Elizabeth sobbed, "oh, Jane."

Georgiana was startled by the scream. She quickly moved towards Elizabeth but stopped when she saw Elizabeth immediately quiet down.

Elizabeth leaned against the wall of the chapel and with her fingers re-engraved the inscription on the stone, marking out each letter and each number. Tragedies happen to other families, not hers, she thought. She laid her face against the cold stone, mingling her tears with the engraver's dust.

Back at Longbourn, Mary had thought she had heard a carriage drive by. But then the sound had stopped, so she decided she had been mistaken. She was sitting in the entryway of the house, out of the way of the commotion. No one seemed to notice when she sat with her book in the entryway. Who would think of sitting here?

'Jane!'

That was a name Mary had not heard in quite awhile. She was wearing mourning clothes, as were her sisters and mother, even her father had black crepe around his hat, but mourning thoughts were another thing. They never spoke of Jane anymore, because that meant they would have to speak of Lizzy, and no one was allowed to breathe her name in front of Mama. It was not fair.

Of all her sisters she wished most of all she could be like Elizabeth: so full of life, energy, and excitement. She seemed to be eager for everything. On the other hand, Mary was eager for nothing, and preferred nothing exciting or out of the ordinary, and certainly anything that even excited activity beyond reading was distasteful to her. To talk of Jane and Lizzy would be a great relief to her. To know they had a proper place in their parents' memories was important in establishing what that place should be in their children's memories. And now there was nothing but confusion in Mary's mind. Was she still allowed to love them? Had her parents ever loved their children? Was she loved? What was her place in the family now that she was the eldest daughter at home?

Chapter 15

Posted on Friday, 25 October 2002

But she had heard Jane's name. It could only be Lizzy.

Mary closed her book and left her seat and went outside, across the paddock towards the gate. She looked around and saw a carriage. 'So I had heard a carriage. Someone is at the church.' Mary went off towards the church and noticed a man standing against the wall.

"Sir, what are you doing here?"

Rossiter was not pleased. Perhaps this intrusion was what Mr. Darcy had been afraid of.

"I have brought two young ladies to the church, ma'am."

Elizabeth jumped up from the wall when she heard voices outside. Mary! She ran out of the little chapel to find her standing with Rossiter.

"Lizzy! I knew it would be you! When did you arrive here? Are you come home now?"

"Oh Mary! It is so good to see you!" But then sadly, "No, I am not come home. I am traveling to London and staying this night at the Inn at Meryton with my friends and have come just now to see Jane's memorial stone. I shall leave you now, so you are not punished for being seen with me."

"Please do not go just yet. No one saw me leave the house, and I was alone there. Nobody will miss me for a little while, at least. See! We are out of sight of the house."

"Very well, Mary." Elizabeth should have felt glad, but Mary's comments about being seen with her had started to anger Elizabeth.

"Elizabeth, I am to marry Mr. Collins after the mourning time."

Mary, I am so happy for you, but are you sure? Can you truly love him?"

"He is awkward, but I believe very strongly that he will be a fine companion for me. I feel not love, I suppose, but a great deal of respect for him and his talents. I know that most people do not like him, but that is of no concern to me. He says that he loves me. Time has proven his affection to be sincere, and so we will be married from Longbourn in December. He comes about once a month to stay with us for a week, therefore we see him rather frequently. Mama likes him, I think, because he is to marry me. Papa, I think, does not like him too well, but this allows me to keep him to myself. We spend time reading together and walking and talking. I am looking forward to being in our own family party at Hunsford. I am also pleased that the future of my family is now secure. While this was not my primary motive, it certainly was a motive in allowing myself to be his choice in wife. If you and my sisters are not married by the time Longbourn falls to Mr. Collins, you will all be welcome to stay here. You need not be afraid. You do not know what comfort this gives to me to know that I can provide this for my family."

"I am not romantic, you know, not like you Lizzy. I have never really sought marriage or men. I have attended balls and parties because my mother expected it of me, but I can hardly remember ever dancing. I now have a man who says he loves me, whose love has been sincere over the course of six months now. You cannot imagine what this has done for me. I hope you will be happy for me, Lizzy."

"Mary, if Mr. Collins has been able to win your love and affection, and you his, then I am so happy! I am very pleased that his affection has been put to the test of time and that he has proven sincere, and that likewise you have still desired to be his wife after all this time. It gives me nothing but pleasure to know that you will be well settled, Mary. You certainly deserve it. Why did you say nothing of this in your letter?"

"I did not want to mix my happiness with Lydia's disgrace, that is all. I must go in now, Lizzy. Thank you for your kind words."

The sisters gave each other an affectionate hug, and Mary returned to the house, to a mother calling for her. Elizabeth and Georgiana, assisted by Rossiter, stepped into the carriage for the short ride back into Meryton. They arrived in good time. Mr. Darcy was only thinking of walking after them when they arrived.

"Miss Bennet."

"Yes, Mr. Darcy?" Georgiana walked passed them into the inn.

"May I ask how you are? I hope too many old wounds have not been reopened."

"You may always inquire into my well-being, sir. I shed a few tears, and I am afraid I alarmed dear Georgiana. I was quite overwhelmed for a few moments. I suppose seeing Jane's memorial stone in the chapel came as quite a shock, even though I knew what to expect, even though I had seen her after she had died."

Elizabeth noticed a familiar look on his face. Where had she seen it before? Oh yes, when she opened her eyes after crying in his arms in the park at Pemberley when he came upon her after she read Mary's letter. A look of agony.

"I am so sorry, Miss Bennet. I wish you had allowed me to accompany you."

"And what could you have done for me, Mr. Darcy, that Georgiana could not?"

"I ... I do not know. I suppose ... I suppose I just could have been there ... with you." His voice and expression had softened perceptibly.

She was not sure how to respond to that. "I also had quite a surprise; I saw my sister Mary."

"That must have been agreeable to you."

"I still have not decided. I do not know. She came out to see me, somehow knowing someone was in the church or thereabouts. I wanted to leave right away. I must say that Rossiter looked nervous. Nothing has changed at Longbourn. I am still an outcast, but Mary is to wed Mr. Collins. She seems pleased with the match. I am sure my mother is overjoyed." She said this sarcastically. Mr. Darcy could not but agree with her. He wondered how Mrs. Bennet would feel when she found out that Elizabeth was to become his wife. He laughed to himself. He wondered how he would feel. Sometimes he forgot that it was not a foregone conclusion.

"I hope that Miss Mary will be happy. When are they to marry?"

"In December, after Jane's year," she said. "Mr. Darcy, I want to thank you very much for bringing me here. I know very well that you did not have to, and that it was at some inconvenience to yourself. You cannot know what a comfort it was for me to see Jane's memorial stone, as simple as it was. I am sure it is nothing to you, as you were able to attend the funeral, but it means so much to me."

"You are very welcome, Miss Bennet. I will do everything in my power to make your life happy." He smiled at her, becoming lost in her eyes.

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy." She paused for a moment to return his smile, then walked to the stairs and up to her room to dress for dinner. Darcy felt he had never loved her so much as he did right then.

It was a Saturday night in May, and Elizabeth could not sleep well. Her mind was filled with thoughts of Jane, her mother, Mary and Mr. Collins and all that had happened since Jane's death. It was all too horrible. Her mind was in a complete turmoil when she awoke on Saturday morning. She looked forward to arriving in town. It would be the third strange place she had slept in as many days, but at least she would be settled there for a while, as Mr. Darcy said they would stay through July. She was looking forward to spending time with her aunt Gardiner.

The only excitement the ride to London offered was when they drove back through Longbourn village. Once again, she could not see anybody. It was a sad sight to leave behind her. Pemberley was very grand, and Mr. Darcy, Georgiana and Mr. Bingley very kind, but they were not her family. But then, she supposed, neither were the occupants of Longbourn House.

The party arrived on an early Saturday afternoon. Elizabeth had never seen such houses as she now beheld before her, and Mr. Darcy's home was the grandest of them all. Mrs. Thomas, the housekeeper, met them at the door. She was a woman in her forties who had newly come into the position, having assumed the post from her mother. Formerly, Mrs. Thomas had been a servant in the home, since her youth, and for the past couple years she had been training closely with her mother. Mrs. Thomas was a very capable woman and Elizabeth would find that she was, like all the servants, very jealous of the Darcy's happiness, courteous to all they brought into the home, efficient in their work and happy and well treated in their positions. The Darcy's were very loyal to those in their employ. They had very little turnover in their staff.

Darcy introduced Elizabeth. Mrs. Thomas knew everyone else very well. "Mrs. Thomas, this is Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who will be our guest during our stay here. Miss Bennet, Mrs. Thomas, our housekeeper."

"It is nice to make your acquaintance, Miss Bennet. Please call on me for anything that might make your stay with us more comfortable. You must be tired from your journey. I will show you to your rooms, if you will follow me. Mrs. Annesley, it is so nice to have you back so soon."

"Thank you, Mrs. Thomas."

Elizabeth was shown into an apartment containing three rooms: a sitting room, a dressing room and a bedchamber. There was a fireplace in each room. The furniture was not modern. It seemed to be of a fashion more appropriate twenty years ago, but it was tastefully done and was very beautiful. The room had been decorated in the light colors of spring. The bedclothes were white and rose with lace trim. In front of the fireplace were a settee and a sofa with a small table between them. There was a vase of fresh flowers on the table. The curtains were of the same pattern of the bedclothes. They were drawn and admitted the afternoon sunlight. The room faced north, opposite the street, so it was quiet. Over the large mantelpiece was the likeness of a woman and a small boy. Elizabeth wondered if these were Darcys of some past generation. This room was obviously decorated to suit a woman's taste, and had been recently refinished. Once again, she was overwhelmed with the depth of Darcy's love and thoughtfulness. Elizabeth would be comfortable spending the next two or three months using it.

Her sitting room had cherry furniture in a very feminine style, including armchairs, a sofa, and a writing table. Her dressing room had a large copper bath, room for more clothes than she had ever owned, a mirror, drawers for her personal items and a beautiful comb and brush with the Darcy crest on them. She wondered what they could be doing here. She would ask her maid about it later. That was a thought. 'Her maid.' Ever since she had been with the Darcy household she had been given a personal maid. She was not quite sure what to do with such a luxury, having had to share such services with her sisters. Darcy did take good care of her.

The search for Wickham began in earnest with a visit by Darcy to his solicitor to see if he knew the whereabouts of Mrs. Younge. His solicitor's research had been successful; he knew what Darcy needed to know. Darcy went to the address he had been given and knocked on the door with his walking stick.

Mrs. Young's housemaid opened the door. "May I help you?"

"Yes, I have come to see Mrs. Younge on a matter of urgent business." Mrs. Younge was in a sitting parlor, very near the door and heard Mr. Darcy's voice. She felt her blood run cold. In her mind, she was begging her housemaid to send him away, but knew it was too much to ask.

"Please come in, Mr. Darcy. I will let Mrs. Younge know that you are here."

Mrs. Younge wondered if she had finally been found out after these two years, for having stolen the Wedgworth figurines from the townhouse. She had made a pretty penny from selling them. She knew he could put her in prison for it. Maybe should could blame it on Miss Darcy.

"Mrs. Younge, a Mr. Darcy is here to see you."

"Thank you, please show him in."

This was going a lot easier than Darcy had anticipated which only caused him to worry more. He had to get Wickham's address out of her. He followed the maid into the sitting parlor. Mrs. Younge rose to her feet.

"Mr. Darcy, what brings you to London?" She tried not to let the fear show in her voice. He had been furious with her at Ramsgate, accusing her of being delinquent in her duty, and of not overseeing and protecting Georgiana as she knew she ought. He also implied that instead of looking out for Georgiana's best interests, she had been seeking her own lustful gratification, and certainly not following the specific directions he had given her regarding the care and management of his own sister. Mrs. Younge felt she had been doing taking great care of his sister. She was only trying to bring two very deserving young people together, whom, she thought, could love each other very much. She had known Mr. Wickham from her previous position in Mr. Weyton's home in London, and he had always shown himself to be a very respectable young man. She did not know what Mr. Darcy had against him. But whatever it was, it was vile and hateful. She abhorred Darcy. And in her weakness for revenge, because he had taken her away from Georgiana, whom she loved, and her position, which paid a great sum, she took the figurines and sold them. They had been family heirlooms, though little noticed. Unfortunately for her, they were in such a place in the house that only she would have general access to, and circumstantially she would appear as the likely felon. Appearances were not always deceiving.

"Does the name Wedgworth conjure any images in your mind, say images of prison?"

"I know not of what you are speaking." She replied softly.

"Oh, I think you do. I am willing to overlook the matter, perhaps, if you were to provide me with a little information."

There is very little he does not already know. Why is he really here? "What sort of information?"

Darcy could already see her relaxing her shoulders, though her countenance remained unmoved.

"I am looking for a friend of mine."

What friends could he possible have? And why would his so-called friend be hiding from him? "And your friend is...?"

"...Mr. George Wickham."

"He is not your friend. You have certainly proven that, I would say. Who do you think you are, calling him friend? You have no business with him, you have nothing to do with the young woman. I shall certainly not tell you where he is. Ever"

"So you have seen him recently. Where is he?"

"I will not tell you!" she said looking all about her, anywhere, except into his eyes.

"You mean to say that you will not tell me whether living in this lovely house is preferable to prison?" Darcy paused for the purpose of letting his words become clear to her and to decide what he would say to her next. "I know you have much to think about. I will come back tomorrow and you can tell me what you have decided. Do not play games with me, Mrs. Younge. I will know where Mr. Wickham is, and you most assuredly will tell me."

As Darcy was headed for the door, he turned to her and asked, "How much is Mr. Wickham paying you to keep his little secret?" And with that, he exited the house into the dirty alleyway.

Mrs. Gardiner opened the door, and invited her niece and her young friend to step in. It had been ages since she had seen Elizabeth and so much had happened. There was no one connected with the family but whom Jane's death and Elizabeth's removal to Derbyshire could not touch.

"Lizzy, please come in. Oh, it is so good to see you." The two ladies hugged and kissed each other's cheeks. It had been too long for Elizabeth. Her aunt always made her feel better about herself.

"Aunt, how are you? How is my uncle and the children?"

"Everyone is well, Lizzy. Please introduce me to your friend."

"Mrs. Gardiner, this is Miss Georgiana Darcy."

"You are very welcome, Miss Darcy. Thank you so much for the kindness you and your brother are showing to Elizabeth."

"Thank you, Mrs. Gardiner. I can assure you, it is no kindness at all, but pleasure. We do not know what we would do without her. She is my very best friend. And I know that my brother is quite taken with her." Georgiana gave a start, and put a hand over her mouth, realizing what she just let slip. "I ... I mean ... he is fond of her ... oops." Georgiana blushed furiously. Elizabeth lost her composure in a brief fit of coughing. Mrs. Gardiner smiled at the girls, recollecting a similar time when she was young.

After the necessary, but uncomfortable pause, and a little uncertainty on her part, Elizabeth began with, "Aunt, for particular reasons, Miss Darcy is well aware of Lydia's elopement with Mr. Wickham. Indeed, I have accompanied her, to assist her brother, Mr. Darcy and his friend, Mr. Bingley (of whom I believe you know) in search of Lydia. Mr. Darcy believes he has sources of information that will very soon lead him to know of their whereabouts."

"Does your father know this, Lizzy?" Asked her surprised aunt.

"No, he does not. Mr. Darcy does not want him to know unless we meet with success. Mr. Darcy has no patience with my family regarding their treatment of myself and does not feel himself obliged to disclose his activities unless he is able to find Lydia. If he does, he will ask my uncle for his assistance."

Mrs. Gardiner was concerned. This was quite unusual. "What kind of assistance?"

"It is Mr. Darcy's intentions to persuade Mr. Wickham to marry Lydia as a means to bring about an honorable end to the elopement. To make that come about, quite a bit of money will have to be laid down. My father cannot afford even half the sum that will be required. Mr. Darcy will need my uncle to convince my father that my uncle has put up the sum himself, so that my father will accept the assistance. Mr. Darcy, in fact, will bear the burden of the whole himself."

"Does Mr. Darcy give the reasons for this extraordinary involvement?"

Rather shyly, Elizabeth replied, "He desires that no further pain or disappointment come upon my family." She looked down at her feet when she felt herself blush.

Mrs. Gardiner saw the confusion on Elizabeth's face and began to have some ideas of her own. "Or to you," she added.

"Or to me," whispered Elizabeth, understanding once again the depths of Mr. Darcy's affection for her.

Mr. Darcy awoke with a start. As usual he had been dreaming about Elizabeth. He looked at the calendar, as he did every morning. It was Tuesday, 19 May 1812. In one week, Elizabeth would throw off her black mourning clothes into the more subtle hues of gray, lilac and dove - colors of the second mourning. She would consider herself freer to move about and go into company, and then so would he. But if she considered herself unable to go about, then he would remain with her. She did not appear to grow weary of the obligation to her sister, and he would never tire of her. Next week, to let Elizabeth know that he remembered Jane, that he remembered her, that he cared for her, he would give her a gift.

Mr. Darcy left his townhouse after a late breakfast and walked back to Mrs. Younge's house. He had no fears that she would not be there. There was no place for her to go. He could take everything she currently had, if he wanted to, so she had no choice but to defend it in some manner. And besides, he had offered Mrs. Younge something to think about. He had brought up the subject of money, and her circumstances could not be so comfortable that his small assistance would not be useful, and certainly Wickham could be doing nothing for her. His darker side would have preferred to intimidate her with prison, but it would be far simpler and quicker to bribe her, and the real concern here was Elizabeth, which was more important than any side of his and more valuable than any amount of money.

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