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Chapter 25, Part 1

Posted on Tuesday, 24 April 2001, at 2:07 a.m.

And I get all your good advice / It doesn't stop me from going through these things twice / I see the knives out, I turn my back / I hear the train coming, I stay right on that track / In the middle, in the middle, in the middle of a dream / I lost my shirt, I pawned my rings / I've done all the dumb things / I melted wax to fix my wings / I've done all the dumb things / I threw my hat into the ring / I've done all the dumb things / I thought that I just had to sing / I've done all the dumb things ~ Paul Kelly 'Dumb Things'

Miles walked down the stairs back to his party. He knew his absence for any longer would cause remark. He flexed the muscles in his hand; he was surprised he had only received a minor cut. He really should stop underestimating his strength, or overestimating the quality of those glasses. He should have known his mother would have bought for decorative purposes rather than quality.

Miles nodded at his various guests, all the time playing the genial host, but his eyes were constantly roving the party for, well his subconscious knew who he was looking forward, it was just his brain that was refusing to accept it.

Miles passed the sofa that Miss Catherine and Ash were sitting on. Ash had a hand negligently thrown along the top of the couch. Miles gave a small smile when he noticed how engrossed the couple were in their conversation. Miles was about to turn away from the sofa when he noticed his friend's hand suddenly formed an arrow, pointing towards the vestibule of his house.

Ash didn't lift his eyes from Kitty for even a fraction of a second, but he knew his friend would be heading straight for his front door.

Miles blatantly ignored two old biddies as he weaved his way through the crowd. His porter leapt to attention and threw open the door to the outside.

Standing at the bottom of the steps was Annabelle.

"Annabelle."

Annabelle turned around briefly but quickly looked away. Miles took a breath and walked down to the bottom of the stairs.

"What are you doing Belle?"

Annabelle resolutely stared off into the distance. Miles rolled his eyes; he put both hands on her shoulders and jerked her around to look at him. With both hands she wrenched herself free.

"Don't touch me, and it's Lady Annabelle to you, Lord Upton."

"Don't be a child Lady Annabelle. What are you doing?"

"I'm going home."

"Really? On Foot? By yourself."

"No I have called my carriage and sent a footman to fetch my grandmother."

"You intend to drag your grandmother away from this party? Don't you think your hurried departure will cause some speculation?"

Annabelle pulled her hurriedly donned cloak tighter around her. "I don't care."

"No you don't seem to care much about anyone but yourself."

Annabelle looked at Miles. "That is unfair."

"I don't think it is."

"Well it is. You are always unfair to me." Replied Annabelle churlishly.

"I unfair to you? You are constantly unjust to me, and treat me with unwarranted contempt, yet it is you who are allowed to run away, causing yet more speculation about me."

"Well I always did think you were a rather self-centred man, Lord Upton. I do not see how my departure could possibly reflect upon you."

"You are not stupid, don't pretend to be, it doesn't suit you."

Annabelle pursed her lips and looked up the street for her carriage.

"Well I think you are entirely exaggerating. I don't think anyone even remembers the fact that you fancied yourself, besotted with me." Sniffed Annabelle happy to see her carriage approaching.

She shot a look at him under her lashes. He had a quizzical look on his face, one eyebrow raised but he said nothing.

Annabelle accepted the hand of the footman, and started to step into her carriage. "I shall wait in the carriage."

"No you will not. Annabelle return to the party."

Annabelle paused. The tone was harsh and unequivocal. She could choose to obey it or she could be wilful.

The Duchess pulled on her gloves and walked in measured paces towards the vestibule. She cursed her granddaughter. She could hear the polite whispers of some of the society madams already.

"Well it's obviously starting again. She feels she can do whatever she likes, I hope he will not let her play him for a fool again."

Annabelle had no notion of what speculation she was starting; trust women like Lady Rockhaven and Mrs Grantley to notice that Annabelle and Lord Upton had been absent from the main party for some time. Now their departure was raising more eyebrows.

The Duchess ignored them all, she resolutely smiled at the porter who flung open the door for her, and was about to walk down the steps when she noticed the little pantomime about to start for her benefit at the bottom of the descent.

Annabelle stepped off the carriage step and turned to Miles. She opened her mouth and was about to tell him exactly what she thought of him when he spoke first.

"Return her Grace's carriage, I am sure she will call for it when it is necessary."

"Very good my lord." Nodded the coachmen, reluctantly setting the carriage in motion. He would have liked to have seen what was to happen next, in this mental duel.

"How dare you!" almost shrieked Annabelle.

"You hadn't decided to return to the party?" asked Miles casually. "I do apologise."

"You are in every manner insufferable! I step down to tell you what I think of you and you dismiss my carriage!"

"That was your mistake I fear. Never relinquish your position of power. You should have known I would have never been able to send the carriage away if you were still attached to it."

Annabelle went a curious shade of red. "How dare you."

"I fear that phrase is getting just a little repetitive."

"I - I - I don't know what to say."

"A novel experience indeed."

"I don't understand you. You - you are impossible. You have made my evening thoroughly impossible and you - you swing from - from emotion to emotion! How can you try to make me feel like this is all my fault. Those poems."

"But I fear, Annabelle I never said those poems were anything to do with you, rid your mind of the notion that they were about you. They had nothing to do with you. Not everything centres around you I fear. And I don't even dare to point out to you that not so long ago you were accusing me of having no emotion."

Annabelle creased her forehead. "They weren't about me?"

"No."

"Then why - why - didn't you say that before?"

"I don't have to always explain myself to you Annabelle. "

"You are impossible. You are so - so cold to me sometimes. I don't understand. You can be..." Annabelle grasped for the words for some odd reason the anger had left her only helpless confusion remained. "You can't treat me like this."

"I cannot treat you like what? Annabelle that is your problem you seem to think you are something apart from everyone else. You are not a beautiful or unique snowflake. You are the same decaying organic matter as everything else. * The sooner you learn that the sooner it will be better for everyone."

Annabelle didn't know where to look his comments hurt her. She felt tears pricking at her eyes, gathering her skirts she ran back up the stairs. She didn't notice her grandmother standing at the top of the steps, she didn't notice the nosy porter who had been standing outside, open the doors for her.

Miles took a deep breath; he started to follow Annabelle, when he noticed the Duchess. He froze. There was no doubt she had heard what he had said, but what would she say about it?

The Duchess kept her eyes purposefully on the portico ceiling. "That is a beautiful casting you have on your portico Lord Upton."

Miles unfroze continuing up the stairs. "It was chosen personally by my father I believe."

"I expect it requires quite a lot of care to keep it top condition. It would be a shame to let it crumble. I do hope you know how to take care of things that are worth a great deal of merit, Lord Upton." The Duchess paused and turned her unflinching gaze on Miles. "But somehow I think you do know how to do that."

"Thank you your grace," smiled Miles continuing into the house.

* Line from Fight Club. Miles is well a little ahead of his time.

Part Two.

For every complex problem, there is a solution that is simple, neat, and wrong ~ Henry Louis Mencken

Anne watched as Annabelle paced furiously across the room and slipped into another room. A few minutes later, Anne excused herself from the bejewelled dowager friend of her mother's and slipped into the same room.

Annabelle was sitting on the couch, looking like someone who was premeditating a rather nasty 'accident' occurring to someone.

"Belle are you all right? I thought you were leaving?"

"Who said I was leaving?" said Annabelle looking up.

"That was the whisper going around."

"So it is true!"

"Is what true?" said Anne confusedly sitting next to her.

"The fact that the minute I do anything, everyone gossips about me, and of course I have to be the cruel manipulative minx. He could not possibly be being nasty to me in revenge. Oh no not perfect Lord Upton. I don't even understand why anyone thought that I would accept his advances he is positively ancient."

Anne almost choked on her punch. "Ancient???"

"Well perhaps not ancient, but well he is quite a deal older than me, quite past his prime."

Anne gave her cousin a depreciating look. "You cannot be serious. Are you blind Belle?"

Annabelle simply shrugged, wondering how much of her speech was driven by anger. Anne looked out the open doors into the main throng, and watched as Miles moved through the crowd being a genial host. It was a rather long look, because Miles looked particularly fine in his well-fitted black coat and pantaloons. Anne sighed.

Annabelle watched Anne's fixated gaze, then watched where Anne was looking.

"Anne!" she exclaimed.

Anne was jolted out her pleasant reverie. "Hmmmm yes Belle."

"Didn't you tell me you were in love with Ricky?"

Anne glared at Annabelle. "Didn't I tell you that in confidence?"

Annabelle glared back at her. "No one can overhear." Then she stopped and remembered what happened last time she decided to blurt out something.

"I'm sorry Anne, I'm in the worst mood. But why are you ....you...."

Anne gave Annabelle a saucy look. "Are you telling me you find no pleasure in looking at him?"

Annabelle's jaw dropped. She looked at Miles. She considered him from all angles and perspectives.

"Well, he is...very good looking...." Said Annabelle.

"Good looking?? , Belle, no wonder you aren't married. If you think that is just good looking your stakes are way too high!"

"Well if you think he is so attractive why aren't you madly in love with him?" countered Annabelle.

Anne gave a mysterious smile. Seeing Annabelle giving her a strange look she decided to change the subject. She looked back at Miles, who was doing his duty by some old harridan; it was then she noted the bandage around his hand. "Oh he has hurt his hands, do you know when he did it Belle?"

Annabelle looked at his hands, which were in the process of wildly gesturing as he entertained the harridan. When had he hurt his hands? Were they bandaged when he came into his study? Annabelle couldn't remember she tried to recall his hands tearing up her picture. Were they bandaged then? She didn't think they had been, so when had he found time to hurt his hands?

There came a sound from the back of the room, Annabelle knew that throat clearing, only a Fitzwilliam could clear a throat like that, and considering she could see her eldest brother from where she sat, that only left really one contender.

Without looking behind her Annabelle stood up and swiftly exited the room. Anne looked curiously over her shoulder and saw Colonel Fitzwilliam, she could tell by the slight stiffness of his carriage that he had not heard Annabelle's revelation but had heard her enthusiasm for Lord Upton.

"Richard, do come and sit by me." Said Anne calmly.

Colonel Fitzwilliam obeyed her but sat at the very end of the sofa from her.

"Are you enjoying yourself tonight?"

" You seem to be enjoying yourself Anne. " replied The Colonel.

Anne gave a small smile. "I did not ask whether I looked as though I was enjoying myself, I was asking whether you were enjoying yourself. Please answer the question."

The Colonel shot Anne a particularly piercing look, which Anne ignored.

"Well I have had better evenings, Miles' parties are normally better than this, and I think he is losing his touch."

Anne had to duck her head to obscure the grin on her face. Could it be that Ricky was just a little bit jealous?

"Anne, are you laughing at me?"

Anne brought her head up, and looked at The Colonel with innocent eyes.

"No, No I'm not laughing at you at all."

The Colonel gave her a reproaching look, and turned his gaze to the crowded rooms. After a pause he spoke.

"So you think that Miles is the epitomy of manhood do you?"

Anne couldn't contain her giggles. "I think you are a little jealous."

"Oh no, how could I be jealous of Miles .... unheard of." Muttered the Colonel.

Anne shot him a sideways glance and raised an eyebrow. Having a jealous Ricky could be interesting.

Annabelle stayed as far away from Miles as was physically possible as she retreated from Anne and her brother. She slipped out onto a terrace, and froze. At the other end a couple stood. There was no doubt in Annabelle's mind that it was a couple, though the lady in question would have strongly objected if she knew Annabelle was thinking of her as part of a couple.

Annabelle didn't know whether she should intervene. There was no doubt that Sir Christian was a rake, everyone said it, but Annabelle was acquainted with many rakes and well there was something decidedly false about Sir Christian's rakish countenance. There was no doubt he was a rake, but there was some doubt over his motives. Of Mary Bennet, Annabelle was not so sure, from her acquaintance with her, Annabelle would have sworn she was the type of girl to read Fordyce for fun but here she was alone on a terrace, with a rake.

Sir Christian reached inside his jacket and pulled out a brown parcel.

"I was debating whether to give this to you or not. But well I know you love of moralistic books, I do apologise for our earlier meeting, and I am sorry that you refused to dance with me. But I understand your reasons. However I'm sure those reasons won't apply to reading this book?"

Mary tried to keep one eye on Sir Christian and the other eye on Annabelle.

"A Moralistic book you say."

Sir Christian tried to think what to say to that statement.

"Well I read it and I believe it deals strongly with morals."

"Very well I will accept it." Said Mary hoping she was doing the right thing.

Sir Christian put the parcel in her hand, and moved to allow her to return inside.

Annabelle allowed Mary to pass by her, before levelling a look at Sir Christian.

"Sir Christian."

"Lady Annabelle."

"I hope you are not trying to hurt Miss Mary."

"I hope you are not trying to hurt Lord Upton. Again." Replied Sir Christian just as sweetly, before bowing and returning inside.

Annabelle screwed up her face, horrible man. Annabelle paced further along the balcony and almost shrieked with shock at the next sight she saw.

Lydia Bennet was acting quite shamefully with two young men, who were really two young to know what they were doing. Lydia Bennet should be too young to know what she was doing!

Annabelle now really didn't know whether to interfere or not, she shot a helpless look behind her inside, hoping she would see someone who might come to her aid. Unfortunately the only person she made eye contact with was Lord Upton, Annabelle quickly looked away.

She heard one of the terrace doors being opened.

"Lady Annabelle."

Annabelle pursed her lips and wouldn't look at him.

Miles gave her a puzzled look; he could have sworn she looked like she needed help, and now she was ignoring him? He looked past her and saw the, tryst at the end of the balcony. Miles again wondered how such ladies as the Misses Bennet's could have a sister like Lydia.

Annabelle cursed her ill fortune and wished that Miles would just go away. She even went so far as thinking she might promise to enter a convent as long as she never had to see him again.

Suddenly Miles had slipped her hand through his, he propelled her forward talking loudly.

"There you are Lady Annabelle, you looked rather pale, I hope the fresh air will do you good. A turn on the balcony usually sets most people to rights."

It took Annabelle only a second to realise why Miles was talking so loudly, she watched as the two young men with Lydia guiltily move off, leaving Lydia to stamp with displeasure.

"Thank you." Said Annabelle in a low tone, "I didn't' know how to deal with that, and I don't want to see the Bennet's humiliated. I don't understand Lydia in the least, how she could be related to the others I do not - "

"You are babbling." Interrupted Miles.

Annabelle looked at her shoes. She knew she was babbling she just didn't want another fight with him, she didn't think she had the energy to do it, she didn't even know if she wanted to, her thoughts and feelings were so mixed up.

"Belle look at me."

Annabelle took a deep breathe, she didn't' know if she should look at him, but the choice was taken away from her. Miles hand came up under her chin and forced her to look at him.

"No cruel words? No angry words? Not going to try and humiliate me?" he questioned.

Annabelle tried to pull away, but found she couldn't, so she replied sulkily.

"No."

"I see."

Annabelle just gave up, she just couldn't care less at the moment, he could argue with her or scold her and she would just listen.

But he didn't do either; he leaned in really close. Annabelle's eyes widened, was he going to kiss her? . He still had his hand under her chin; inclining her face up to his. She waited; seconds seemed like hours, as he got closer. Then suddenly he dropped her chin and strode back into the party. Annabelle just stared after him.

Part Three

Never go to bed angry. Stay up and fight. ~ Phyllis Diller.

Miles glared into the bowl of punch. What was he doing? He had been this close to.... bah that girl was a veritable Venus fly trap. She should have some sort of health warning attached to her. As Miles ladled out some punch, he noticed a prim white glove holding an empty glass. He looked sideways into the lifeless eyes of Miss Smart.

"Oh Lord Upton. Could you possibly procure me some punch? I cannot ladle it myself, otherwise my gloves might be soiled and we cannot have that." She said following her speech with an inane giggle.

"Oh no we can't have that." Said Miles trying not to gag. No sooner had he filled her glass than another one was thrust at him. It was Miss Olsen. Mile's eyes bulged, had she done something to her dress? Had it shrunk? Flustered he accepted her cup.

"Oh thank you Miles." Simpered Miss Olsen.

Miles shuddered at the use of his first name.

"Oh yes, they make a wonderful couple do they not." Said Lady Upton.

"Who dear? Lord Upton and Sophronia? Or Rosamund?"

"Rosamund!" exclaimed Lady Upton. "My dear Miles married to the daughter of my dearest friend. It is like a fairytale. If only he did not make such inappropriate friends!"

Mrs Grantley looked lost. "What friends of his do you not approve of Augustinia?"

"Well, his school friends lead him into such horrid activities. There was a horse in his house! A horse! But it is more annoying when he is polite to such people like the Bennet's. I was never more taken in by anyone then I was with them, but once I realised my fault.... Well you see I have pointedly ignored them all evening. But Miles!"

"Oh I see, but it is to your credit that he is so polite and well-mannered, we must just inform him that he need not be so gentlemanlike to unworthy people." Replied Mrs Grantley.

"Yes. But I do wish those wretched Bennet's would leave!"

Lizzy sat next to Darcy and smiled. Their evening had worsened considerably. Everyone had been all that was outwardly charming and polite, asking to see Lizzy's ring and to enquire when the happy day was. But from a distance, Lizzy could see the calculating stares and the whispered condemnations. She wished she was like Jane and Bingley, who were so wrapped up in each other that they did not even notice the disapproving society matrons.

Lizzy did not care for their disapproval, she loved Darcy and he loved her that was all that was necessary, no disapproval was going to stir her from her conviction that they would be ultimately happy. But like most young ladies, she did not like the idea of people actively condemning her or judging her out of hand.

Darcy had stiffened at the first hearing of condemnation of his engagement, and had become steadily more withdrawn. He did not know how to combat such actions of the ton . He was a society darling, he had never felt the effects of a collective cold shoulder; he did not know how to deal with it. He knew that society would love Elizabeth once they got to know her; unfortunately they were not willing to become acquainted with her, especially when they saw the actions of her mother, youngest sister, cousin and her father. Darcy wished his friends were not so distracted he needed their support.

A society matron by the name of Mrs Farnsnoggle, had caught Lizzy up in a conversation. Lizzy did not regard it as a friendly conversation, it was quite obviously hostile conversation and Mrs Farnsnoggle had all gun ports open, and about to broadside Lizzy at any moment, and Lizzy's guns weren't in range yet.

"So Miss Elizabeth, you met Darcy where precisely??"

"In Hertfordshire."

"You were holidaying in Hertfordshire?"

"No I live in Hertfordshire."

Mrs Farnsnoggle looked suitably surprised. "All year round?"

"Yes all year round, except of course for occasional holidays."

"To where pray tell."

"Well Brighton."

"Oh you come to Brighton often?"

"Well, no this is my first visit to Brighton."

"So other holiday destinations would be??"

"London."

"Really where in London?"

"Gracechurch Street with my uncle and aunt." Said Lizzy proudly.

"Oh, how nice." Replied Mrs Farnsnoggle sweetly.

Lizzy sipped her punch to prepare herself for a renewed onslaught. She caught out of her eye the sight of Darcy, with his back to her leaning against a mantelpiece. His companion was a young lady, who was definitely within Darcy's personal space. She was giggling, and flapping her hand at Darcy in time to her crowing "Oh you! *Inane giggle*" Lizzy appraised her, viciously. She was wearing a very becoming outfit, made even more becoming by the fact that Lizzy swore it had been dampened from the waist down. She was flirting!!! As Lizzy turned her eyes to Darcy, and realised that he was flirting too.

Lizzy glared into her cup. He was flirting, she could tell, he looked like he was having fun therefore he was flirting. Lizzy sighed, was it just because she was tired and irritable? She scrutinised Darcy, was he really flirting, or was she over reacting because she was sitting with a woman who was slowly wearing down her defences, while he was talking to a lively pretty woman?

She was obviously wealthy. Was he talking to her because she was wealthy and could fill him in on high society gossip? Was he enjoying himself more with her? Lizzy sighed as she continued her monosyllabic and non-committal answers with Mrs Farnsnoggle. The night was more trying that she had imagined it would be.

Darcy's gaze was caught by Miss Lydia returning into the rooms, she seemed slightly ruffled and put out. However she did not stay that way for long. Darcy watched alarmed as Lydia suddenly noticed the looks of one or two fashionable fribbles. She bit her lip and started to move around the room, giggling and swaying her body, she was creating quite a stir, romping about like an overgrown toddler. When she noticed that the two fribbles were not giving her their full attention she nudged a punch bowl, Darcy swore it was intentional, and it went crashing to the floor. A nearby dowager shrieked, which seemed to upset Lydia as she leapt into the air and fell backwards, onto a sofa. Unfortunately the sofa was already more than adequately filled by Ash.

Darcy went rigid with anger at his future sister-in-laws actions; she did not even have the grace to look embarrassed. Ash had stood up with all the speed in the world and had promptly set Lydia back on her feet, acting with grace and decorum. Kitty looked like it was taking all of her concentration to keep her punch in her cup and not all over her sister. All Lydia did was reel wildly laughing her little head off, and thrusting her décolleté at everyone.

"Must she exhibit herself in public? This is Brighton not a rural assembly? I suppose we must be glad her education in how to draw attention to herself in the worst possible way was faultless. I cannot see she learnt much else." Said Darcy bitterly.

Lizzy pleasure at the fact Darcy had come back to sit beside her, disappeared. She felt her blood boil, she was so overtaken by anger that she could not speak, she simply rose silently and quitted the room. She walked into a room that she could only suppose was Lord Upton's study.

Lizzy paced, she knew she was being somewhat irrational, but Darcy should not say such things. Lizzy heard the door close behind her.

"Elizabeth? What is wrong? Why did you storm in here?"

"How could you? How could you say such a think about my sister in public? Anyone could have overheard you? What will people think if you don't even respect my family??"

"Elizabeth, I don't think anyone overhead. And I will not refrain from voicing my opinions, especially if they are valid ones. She is wild. Completely and utterly wild!

"Is she?"

"Yes, she needs to be restrained and taught manners, given a governess, schooled in how to conduct herself properly. I do not know what your mother was thinking not giving any of you governesses! How could you possibly know how to conduct yourself without one."

"I have no idea, Mr Darcy."

Darcy paused. She called him Mr Darcy.... oh dear

"Are you going to hire a governess for me, when we are married? To teach me how to conduct myself."

"Don't be ridiculous, you know how to conduct yourself. It is just your sister that does not have seemed to have learnt. And perhaps Catherine and Mary as well to some degree."

"And I suppose you think that when we are married you can order my family around!"

"I - "

"Well?"

"No but I expect to have some influence on your family."

"You are marrying me, not my family, why should my family listen to you, or why should my family worry you!"

"Your family reflects upon me, and upon you too. It is only natural I should wish to see them present their best side for public inspection."

"Present their best side? And I suppose that is what you were doing when you were publicly flirting with that...that.... hussy!"

"Excuse me? I did nothing of the sort!"

"Yes you were and yet you have the gall to be embarrassed by Lydia?"

"Yes I am embarrassed by her. What sort of man could not be embarrassed by her?"

"How can you marry me if you are embarrassed and hate my family? You must accept that they are a part of my life!"

"Of course I accept your family Elizabeth."

"But I don't think you do! You don't seem to be able to see their good qualities at all! You keep saying how highly you think of myself and Jane, but we aren't the only members of our family!"

"How can I think highly of a woman whose sole ambition in life is to be embarrassing and try to sell off her daughters? Of a man who hides instead of faces his problems? Of a girl who sermonises all day without having experienced any of the things she sermonises about? And lastly of a girl, who at 15 is well on the road to being a shameless hussy!"

"How dare you! And well you seem to have overlooked Kitty, are you sure you can't think of some hideous character fault for her!"

Darcy paused and shifted weight from one foot to another, "I am well aware I have not mentioned Miss Catherine, and I will exclude her from this conversation."

Lizzy's eyes narrowed, why wasn't he going to say anything about Kitty? She wasn't able to ask, as the door opened and Jane and Bingley slipped in.

"What is all the fighting about?" asked Jane in quiet tones.

Lizzy turned her back on Darcy and answered her sister.

"Ask him, ask him what he thinks of our family!"

"Mr Darcy?" asked Jane confused.

"Elizabeth, you are being unfair. I do not wish to discuss this with you at this present moment and I would rather not discuss this with anyone else. No offence intended Charles and Miss Bennet. "

"None taken" said Bingley hurriedly.

Jane looked towards Bingley and then looked back at Darcy. "I am lost, what are you talking about?"

"He has no respect for our family. That's all." Said Lizzy in a teary voice.

"Elizabeth." Replied Darcy tersely. "This has been a long night, you are being irrational! We will talk about this later. I don't disrespect your family, but I will not say that I think they are perfect and that I wouldn't want to see them change an iota."

"They are my family! Do you expect me to simply never see them again?"

"No, I - " Darcy took a deep breath. "I never said that. However if I am going to take them into my house in town, I will expect them to behave with propriety, and that display outside was not propriety."

"Your house! Will I have no say in anything when we are married??" demanded Lizzy.

Darcy looked stumped; he turned to Bingley, who quickly pretended to be engrossed in Mile's desk. In about three seconds he really was engrossed in Mile's desk, because he found Annabelle's torn portrait.

Darcy seeing no help was forthcoming from Bingley turned back to the ladies, because now Jane was standing next to her sister, giving him a strange look.

"It's my house." He said helplessly.

"So I will have no rights? I thought you would be different! Just because legally wives have no rights! Won't I have any influence or say in anything?" said Lizzy

Darcy felt he was losing the grip on this argument. Who said anything about rights? It's my house. My house, our house, it's a house!

Bingley put the torn scraps down and felt perhaps it was best to try and deflect some of the argument from his friend.

" I think, that a house is a house. And that someone should have the right to decide who comes into their house, even if it is a house that they share with someone else."

Bingley gave a wary smile. Lizzy wasn't impressed. "In English please?"

"I think Darcy should have a say in who comes into his house."

Jane shot a surprised look at Bingley, who hurriedly added. "But I think that a wife, should also have some say in who comes into the house."

Jane gave him an encouraging smile, which made Bingley's heart leap, Darcy picked up on it and sneered at Bingley.

"Is that what you really think Charles? Or is that just what you think they want to hear? Why don't you just express your own opinions Charles?"

Bingley looked hurt. "But those are my own opinions."

"Really?" said Darcy with a shake of his head.

"Just because his opinion isn't your own!" exclaimed Lizzy.

"His opinion isn't my opinion, it doesn't matter what my opinion is. I just know that Charles moulds his opinions into what he thinks people wish to hear."

"Is that true Charles?" asked Jane softly.

"Er - I think - ah. I don't know." Replied Bingley not sure how the conversation suddenly turned to his personality.

"Well I'll ask Mr Bingley. Mr Bingley what do you think of my family?"

Bingley gaped at his future sister-in-law. What did he think of her family? He looked at Jane, who was obviously expecting him to announce that he loved them, he looked at his dearest friend who was expecting him to concur with him and then he looked inside his own mind.

"Well, er, I they, all, have.... er.... good...intentions...but...well...my.... opinion...is.... - hmm."

"How very enlightening Charles." Replied Darcy sardonically.

Jane just looked at him. Did he not have any opinions of his own?

"Well I for one don't want to stand around discussing this all night. I think we will be going home, come Jane." Replied Lizzy stalking from the room with her eldest sister in tow.

Darcy sighed and collapsed in a chair by the empty hearth.

"What was that all about?" asked Bingley timidly.

"I said something impolite about Lydia and it sprung from there."

"Surely...." Said Bingley slowly.

"Yes I know, there is something else on her mind. But she hasn't divulged it and I for one will wait till she had calmed down before asking her."

Bingley nodded in agreement.

Part Four

There is no perfect marriage, for there are no perfect men. French Proverb

Lydia sulked as she plodded down the steps of the house.

"Mamma, I don't want to go home. Why should be have to go home simply because Jane, Lizzy, Mary and Kitty want to go home. "

"You are forgetting that I want to go home Lydia." Replied Mr Bennet sternly, quite fed up of his only 'society' party in a very long time. "So unless you want to walk home......."

Lydia made no protest and climbed into the carriage to sit next to her mother where she could complain and be sure of support.

"Oh Mr Bennet!" cried Mr Collins, oozing his way down the stairs.

Mr Bennet watched the way Kitty turned pale at his arrival.

"Oh Mr Collins, please do not let us tear you away from the party. I fear the carriage is to be overcrowded as it."

Mr Collins looked dangerously close to suggesting that Kitty could always sit on his lap, when Mary leapt into save her sister.

"But Mr Collins, I did overhear a lady, a Lady Catherine, bemoan the fact she had not had a chance to speak to you this evening. Perhaps she would offer you a ride home?"

The change in demeanour was immediate. "Lady Catherine!" he breathed with reverence. "Of course I must talk with her, I am afraid I will have to decline your hospitable offer my dear Mr Bennet. I will engage to find my own way back to your spacious and elegantly arranged apartments."

"Very well Mr Collins." Said Mr Bennet in a very even voice, before turning to continue handing his daughters into the carriage.

It was a very crushed carriage ride home, however as every member of the family had issues to mull over the uncomfortable nature of the ride was hardly commented on.

Mrs Bennet and Lydia were lamenting the loss of such a party, especially as the Lucas', artful creatures that they were, were still there. Mr Bennet and Kitty were pondering the engagement with Mr Collins. Mary was wondering what kind of book needed to be wrapped in brown paper. The eldest daughters were wondering whether marriage was the right thing to embark on.

Miles gave a huge sigh of relief as he shut the door on his last guest. Well he had really shut the door on his last guest and his mother. But his mother was seeing his last guest off, and would no doubt try and regain admittance to the house. More's the pity.

The night had been eventful to say the least, Miles was not sure if he was glad the party had occurred or just plain sorry it had ever occurred. He had well, sort of, discussed his problems with Belle, but sort of not ...he had seen her at her irrational worst and still that did not seem to deter him, and that was the vital point - should it?

Miles shook his head as he climbed his way to bed. Although looking back at the events of the night - did anyone go home happy? Well he was too tired to think about anything anymore.

His head hit the pillow as he spread-eagled himself on the bed; his hand gave a twinge of pain. Miles regarded it, remembered why he had got it and swore.

His valet entering the room to help his master undress had the singular gratification of seeing my lord with a pillow over his head cursing in rather fluent - French.

Lady Catherine smiled as Lady Upton returned back into her house. Lady Catherine wished the coachman would hurry up finishing whatever he was doing in Lady Upton's kitchen...probably a kitchen maid had thoughtlessly given them brandy thought Lady Catherine spitefully

"Horrible woman - all for what she can get." She whispered violently to Anne, who was giving extremely personal looks to Colonel Fitzwilliam on the other side of the carriage.

"Anne? Are you paying any attention to me?"

Anne suddenly realised her mother was glaring at her.

"Yes mother...horrible woman...."

"Yes your ladyship, sometimes people can just misuse their position in life."

It was at this point that the party realised there was a fourth person in their midst - it was Mr Collins. He was outside the carriage leering in the window. Lady Catherine grimaced as the slob continued to speak, the grimacing continued until Lady Catherine detected a very unusual smell.

"They should take a leaf out of your book, and use their bounty and beneficence to help the uneducated masses."

"Mr Collins.... what pray tell is that smell?"

"Oh my dear Lady Catherine, it is a new perfume that I am trying, I do hope that it is acceptable to your noble nose, I was trying for an aroma that did not make the lower classes feel distinct from me, as I should as a parson be able to be approached, but that the same aroma would not offend the delicate..." Mr Collins paused to smarm at Anne, "noses of the great ladies...and gentlemen of course it happens to be my humble duty to support."

Lady Catherine bulged her eyes at Mr Collins and made a guttural noise in her throat, it accelerated pitch as she realised Mr Collins was reaching for the door handle.

"You do not mind dropping me off at my lodgings with the Bennet's do you Lady Catherine? I knew that such a one as you would always have room for her parson, especially since I have not told you of my plans for my second beehive from the left at the parsonage. But...I seem to be unable to open the door your ladyship."

"Indeed." Lady Catherine managed to utter, hoping that Mr Collins would not see her hand firmly grasping the handle on the inside.

"Perhaps I'll just pop round to the other side and climb in there." He disappeared from the window.

"Quick ANNE!" hissed Lady Catherine at her daughter, who grasped the other handle, ready to look sympathetic at Mr Collins and damn those 'rascally coach makers with their sticking doors.' But he never appeared.

Captain Lord Douglas, sauntered down the road, wildly swinging his cane, feeling rather smug with himself, he had somehow managed to charm his way into being transferred from dreary Portsmouth to carefree Brighton, not that there was much for a naval officer without a ship to do in Brighton, except wear dress uniform and meet with similarly spiffy army officers and talk about how great it was that the army and the navy now had such great reputations.

And that was quite hard work of course; in fact Lord Douglas had done quite a whole 6 hours hard work at the nearest tavern with the leaders of the Militia.

His foggy mind was telling him that he knew this part of Brighton. Wasn't this Lord Upton's street? Not to say that Lord Upton owned the whole street, well of course he could own the whole street but he didn't because what would be the point of owning a whole street, what would you do with it? No Lord Douglas could see little point in owning a street. But now he seemed to have forgotten what he was first talking about - Damn the French wine - but shush it was wartime they weren't supposed to have French wine...they captured it...that was right...spoils of war...

Lord Douglas sleepily looked at the stationary carriage in front of him, there was no driver, and a little funny.... animal....no wait it was a man, was trying to break in. He was pulling valiantly at the door, even putting one foot against it as leverage but to no avail. Then the funny little toad started to hop around to the other side of the carriage.

No, this could not happen; little furry creatures couldn't go around stealing honest honourable people's carriages in Lord Upton's street. Lord Douglas would not let them.

"Oy you-sh, cease and de-de-shist." He cried, reaching the funny little man.

"Oh sir, perhaps you can help me open Lady Catherine's carriage, I'm sure you know of Lady Catherine. Lady Catherine De Bourgh of Rosings..."

But Mr Collins got no further a flush hit dropped him to the ground.

"That's what I think of horrible little thieves."

Chapter 26

Posted on Friday, 11 May 2001, at 8:02 a.m.

"The books that the world calls immoral are the books that show the world it's own shame.~ Oscar Wilde. "

Mary stretched as she padded across her floor, it was the morning after the party, and she was wide awake although she did not want to go downstairs and spoil her father's fun. Her father would no doubt have much fun chuckling about how the ladies of the house were such lay-a-beds that a little party could knock them up so much.

Mary saw the package on her side table; she picked it up and curled herself up in a comfy chair near the fire, just lit in the hearth. She clawed off the brown paper and was confronted by a brown leather bound book. She turned it over in her hands and ran her fingers over the fine quality binding and covering. Gilded on the spine were the words, Les Liaisons dangereuses, Mary opened the cover and was glad to see the title page in English, it was a translation, it would have been awfully humiliating to have to tell Sir Christian she couldn't read French.

She opened the first page and commenced reading.

Mr Bennet had been hustled to the study, still clad in nightgown and slippers by his irate second youngster daughter.

"Papa, you must understand that I cannot, I cannot marry Mr Collins and I want you to categorically deny that we are engaged. I am not silly! And I know you will probably think I am silly for saying this. But I won't marry him. I won't."

Mr Bennet sat down on a seat, and motioned for Kitty to come sit on his knee, like she used to do when she was a little girl. Mr Bennet very soon regretted it.

"Gracious you've filled out a bit Kitty."

"Papa!" exclaimed Kitty. "You are making me marry Mr Collins and now you say I am overweight??"

Mr Bennet realised he was just jumping out of the fat and into the fire. "No, No, you are just a little bigger than you were when you were three. Do you remember when I used to read you stories?"

"Yes, until you thought I was too stupid." Said Kitty candidly.

Mr Bennet put his arms around his daughter. When had he decided she was too silly to be worth his while? He shouldn't have done that she was his daughter.

Mr Bennet coughed a little and did some clearing of his throat, while trying to decide what to say, in the end he settled for giving his daughter a big squeeze.

Kitty put her head on his shoulder and just enjoyed having a hug with her Papa.

"Now Kitty, I know Mr Collins isn't ...well the most ...sensible man of your acquaintances, actually quite frankly I'm a little perturbed for his mental state. He *ahem* described you to me as his sparkling little peat moss."

Kitty gave a groan. "At least it wasn't his champion eye appeal."

"Eye Appeal?"

"A type of Rose I think Papa."

"Well anyway, Kitty the thing is, once I am gone Mr Collins will have Longbourn and he may do what he likes to my surviving family. As I stated I am rather worried about his mental state, who knows what he will do, if we thwart him? So Kitty I promise you I will do everything in my power to untangle you from his grasp, but I want to do it without endangering the whole family's future existence."

Kitty lifted her head up from her father's shoulder. "You really think he is insane Papa?"

"A prime candidate for Bedlam? Don't you?"

"What's Bedlam?" said Kitty wrinkling her nose.

Mr Bennet, refrained from laughing at his daughter, as he once would have, instead he hugged her closer and replied.

"Bethlehem hospital, it's a hospital for the insane, founded in..."

Lizzy sat cross-legged on the bed. She glared at her reflection.

"Why Jane? Why??"

"I don't know Lizzy..."

"Why can't everyone just be like you?!"

"Everyone has to be different Lizzy."

"But WHY? Why do those horrible, catty old women think they know me? Why should they get to pass judgement on me?"

"Lizzy it is just their first impression, it was wrong of them to speak on them, but they will revise their opinions."

"I wish I had your good-nature Jane. And Mr Darcy. Mr Darcy !"

Jane didn't know what to reply to that.

"I mean how DARE he say those things Jane! And to bring Mr Bingley into it too!"

"Are you really mad at Mr Darcy Lizzy?'

Lizzy flopped back on the bed. "No I'm not. I just wish he wasn't such a prominent member of society, I just don't like people commenting about me, I don't like the fact that people think I trapped him into proposing, I don't like it. I don't like the fact ...oh I just don't like everything!"

"Well Lizzy, perhaps you shouldn't have quarrelled with Mr Darcy, if you aren't really mad at him?"

"Oh I don't know Jane, I know I'm being irrational, but I can't seem to help it. I am slightly angry with him, with those ideas of my becoming some subservient being... " Lizzy trailed off and gave a deep sigh.

"Lizzy it's too early to be thinking, go back to sleep."

But there was no chance of sleeping; Mrs Bennet launched herself into the room, with speed that was normally associated with racing horses, or at least soldiers retreating on battlefields.

"Oh Girls you are awake! I just had to talk to you!" Mrs Bennet flung herself on Jane's vacant bed.

"Wasn't last night's soiree divine? And oh the lace! And the feathers! I really need to buy myself some more feathers."

'Oh no Mama - feathers - "But Jane was cut off.

"And the ladies, so charming and obliging! They were exceedingly civil to me. I did not expect it I assure you. A Lady Rockhaven, I daresay a grand countess, actually said to me, 'I admire the way you brought up your daughters Mrs Bennet, they are following exactly in your footsteps.' What do you say to that girls?!"

Jane and Elizabeth flushed red. "Mama!" exclaimed Lizzy.

"What Lizzy my girl. My soon to be rich girl! It is a pity Mr Darcy is not Lord Darcy. And a greater pity Mr Bingley is not Lord Bingley. Jane would have suited being a lady, for she looks like one, such beauty! I knew it was not all for nought! Oh the ton is so obliging, and they will welcome you both with open arms, just like they did for me!"

Lizzy put a pillow over her head in disgust, how could her mother be so stupid!

Jane leant on the wall outside their shared bedroom; she pulled her shawl around her morning dress and slowly walked down the stairs. She was thinking a great deal about Mr Bingley.

Did Charles really have no opinions? Or was he just reluctant to voice them, in case he hurt someone? She hoped it was the latter.

Jane felt a draught at the bottom of the stairs. No wonder this place was so cheap. She moved to close one of the doors in the hall, and through the gap spied Kitty and her father, she was about to move away when her father beckoned her in.

"She's asleep Jane, can you help me?"

Jane crossed over to her father, and helped him stand, between them; they managed to carry the slumbering Kitty up the stairs to her room.

Opening the door to Kitty's shared bedroom with Mary, Jane noticed Mary engrossed in a book, but as soon as she realised she wasn't along, Mary jumped up guilty and shoved the book under the nearest cushion.

Jane opened her mouth to question Mary but was distracted by her father who was having a hard time manoeuvring the sleeping Kitty to her bed.

"What is it with sleeping people? How does sleep automatically make you pounds heavier?" grunted Mr Bennet, dropping his youngest daughter but one, on her bed.

"I don't know Papa, maybe it is a scientific fact?" said Mary

Mary smiled falsely as her sister and father left the room, as soon as the door shut she dove for the book.

They were going to do what to the poor girl???

Kitty sleepily blinked herself awake, she was confused, hadn't she just been downstairs with her father? Yawning she stretched herself, before curling back up into a tight ball.

She was invited to spend the day with Cassie, which she was looking forward to immensely, what she was not looking forward to was having to explain to everyone why she was engaged to Mr Collins.

Kitty balled up her fists, who could possibly have started such a horrid rumour about her? Well not that it was rumour per se, but it was malicious! There really wasn't' any other word for it!

She was not going to marry Mr Collins; she would rather become a nun. However her desperation not to marry Mr Collins, did not make her think it would be preferable to marry just anyone else. Though thinking of Mr Collins perhaps marrying someone else, anyone else, was preferable?

Though the question was who else? She searched through her male acquaintance.

Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley: Sigh, were already engaged.

The officers: she had little to do with them, and they had a tendency to swarm all over her sister, which would not be conducive to matrimony.

Mr Morecombe: not in the vicinity and he had a horrible habit of walking with a mince, she had never noticed it before but now upon knowing many finer gentlemen she perceived a mince.

Rest of Meryton Men: The out of the vicinity argument also applied to them though thinking through them there were other arguments that would dismiss them from a list of prospective grooms.

Lord Douglas: much too reckless for her tastes, he would take looking after and Kitty wasn't sure she could manage him.

Lord Holling: He didn't like seashells and he seemed the worrying type and she didn't like smothering.

Lord Upton: Con: she had only just met him the other night. Pro: he was a very nice man. Con: but he looked as though he could be considerably scary.

Colonel Fitzwilliam: might be a nice enough husband, but he was a little too short and well he'd probably try to drag her off to Spain as he was in the regulars, and Kitty didn't like Spain.

That left Lord Ashbourne, well there didn't seem to be any reason not to marry him. But... did she love him?....could he love her?

Oh it was too confusing! She'd be best off just pushing it all to the back of her mind, and going to see Cassie and The Duchess.

Annabelle twisted a ribbon viciously around her finger.

"Kitty, I did something stupid..."

"I may have done something foolish...I didn't mean to...but well you know how some things just slip out?

"Kitty, my dear friend, well you know those horrid rumours.... it was Maria'

Annabelle yanked the end of the ribbon and gave an unladylike shriek as she almost cut of the circulation to her finger.

Rubbing her finger, she glared at her maid, Yvette who firmly relieved her mistress of the ribbon and used it to thread through Annabelle's hair.

Annabelle sighed. She had not had a good night's sleep. How was she going to explain herself to Kitty?

Damn Miles. She wouldn't have thought she needed to explain herself to Kitty if he hadn't...

Annabelle glared into her reflection. She didn't need to explain herself to Kitty, it was an accident, it had slipped out, it had only been Miles.... someone else...no doubt Maria, had spread the rumour. But why had she wanted to tell Miles? Should she have done that?

Yvette looked warily at her mistress.

"Miss Bella are you feeling quite right this morning?"

"Yes Yvette why wouldn't I??" said Annabelle trying to appear with out a care in the world.

"Don't you play your tricks, you didn't sleep a wink last night! And here are all your Grand-mère friends coming to call this morning, and you looking as ruffled as a bed sheet."

"Well don't you inspire confidence!" exclaimed Annabelle.

"A problem shared is a problem halved." Replied Yvette.

"Well.... no it isn't a problem Yvette, it's just something I have to do."

"Something you have to do Miss Bella?" replied Yvette incredulously drawing a final pin through Annabelle's hair.

"Don't be like that Yvette!" exclaimed Annabelle, "And besides haven't you always said I should be more responsible."

"Mauvais enfant"

"Me a wicked child??" smiled Annabelle as she stood, admiring herself in the mirror, before going downstairs to face the music.

It did not help that Kitty greeted Annabelle with the kind of hug that practically prevented Annabelle from breathing.

"Kitty!"

"Belle, I feel awful. I could not sleep a wink last night. I talked to Papa, but he thinks Mr Collins is insane, so he doesn't want to upset him. Mr Collins did not come home last night, do you think he is dead?"

'I don't think it's wise to assume he is dead."

"Neither do I, he seems like that type of man." Kitty sighed.

"What type of man?"

"The type that everyone thinks is dead, but never is..."

"Oh..." replied Annabelle blankly. They were wandering off track.

"Kitty sit down with me."

They sat down on one of the Duchesses' Chinese divans.

"About those rumours...."

"Who could have started them Belle? I mean I did not need them! Mr Collins and Mama were hard enough to bear without society encouraging them!"

Annabelle winced.

"Kitty I fear.... that..."

"You fear?"

"I may have started the rumours."

Kitty's jaw dropped. She gaped at her friend.

"Not intentionally, never intentionally! But well Miles was speaking to you, and he came over, and I just...it just slipped out."

"Lord Upton told everyone?" replied Kitty blankly.

"No, No, Miles wouldn't do something like that, I think Maria might have overheard my telling Miles...and you know she is rather jealous of you, and she is that kind of spiteful woman. I'm so sorry Kitty, I didn't mean to...it just happened."

Kitty pulled her hands away from Annabelle's, "But how could you? You knew what it would mean? I mean if you had not just said anything!"

Kitty stood up and tried to fathom what this actually meant. Her friend...had ...had...been the one that had brought about her humiliation yesterday.

"I didn't mean to I swear it Kitty. I'm so sorry."

Kitty turned towards Annabelle. "But why tell Lord Upton?"

"I thought he had a right to know."

"Why?"

"He might have.... I...I don't know why, but I thought he did and I blurted it out. That man is a veritable curse!"

"So you are going to blame him now??"

"No! That's not what I meant. Well I guess that is what I mean, someone should tape my mouth up when I'm around that man."

The last part of the sentence was said mainly as an aside, and Kitty wondered what had happened between Lord Upton and Annabelle last night, but she was too mad to pursue it.

Kitty crossed the room and sunk into a chair. She regarded Annabelle, she had spent most of last night thinking of what she would do to the instigator of her pain and mortification last night, and now that was wrenched from her. She could not do any of them to Annabelle, it was impossible to contemplate, no matter what she had done.

"Kitty, please, please, forgive me?" begged Annabelle, biting her lower lip between her teeth.

Kitty exhaled noisily. Ask her to forgive? While the mess she had created was still fresh??

A horrible remark rose in Kitty's throat but before she could speak it, her brain wrested control back from her emotions.

Annabelle waited as Kitty squirmed in her chair, then suddenly jumped up and flew across the room to the door.

"Wait Kitty where are you going?"

"Home. I really can't talk to you about this right now, in fact I don't think I can even see you right now."

Annabelle fiddled with the fringing on the side of the divan and nodded.

Kitty opened the door and almost collided with Lord Holling and the Duchess.

"Oh I beg your pardon."

"Kitty? Where are you going.'

Kitty shot a look at Annabelle and then to the Duchess. "Er...home, I'm not feeling well."

Lord Holling looked concerned. "I am sorry to hear that Miss Bennet, but perhaps it would be best to have a lie down? Or I could get you a glass of something."

Kitty felt trapped. "Er, no I think just going home would be best."

The Duchess looked at her granddaughter, who refused to look up and then back at Kitty.

"No I think Miss Bennet is right, perhaps you could escort her home Teddy?"

"With pleasure." Smiled Lord Holling offering his arm to Kitty, who gratefully took it. They left but not before Kitty shot a parting look at Annabelle, over her shoulder.

The Duchess stopped lingering in the doorway and walked fully into the room.

"Do you want to talk about it Belle?"

"Not really."

"Now why did I think that might be your answer." Replied the Duchess sardonically.

Kitty smiled at Lord Holling as they strolled towards the Bennet's house.

"I'm glad you agreed to walk, I needed to clear my head. I'm sorry to inconvenience you."

"Not at all Miss Bennet, I enjoy a walk too."

Kitty smiled.

"Did my cousin do something to upset you?"

Kitty started, which cousin did he mean?

"Annabelle I mean?"

"Oh Belle, well..." Kitty didn't quite no how to finish. But she did have to talk to someone, and somehow she knew she could trust Lord Holling.

"Well you see it started when.........."

Part Two.

If music be the food of love, play on ~ William Shakespeare.

Annabelle gripped the plate of scones with both hands. Had Yvette really meant her grandmother's friends were coming for a social gathering?

"Oh Annabelle dear, could you possible pass me another scone, they really are delicious your grace." Simpered Lady Upton.

Annabelle proffered the plate to Lady Upton, who spent a good minute or so picking a scone. Annabelle unceremoniously dumped the plate on the table, with a tight smile plastered across her face.

"Yes so isn't that nice news about Miss Dew! I am glad her father's illness was mild and that she can be once more amongst us. That is where the girls are now, visiting dear Miss Dew. Such a treasure should not be hid away at Bath. Though Bath is a very proper place to be educated." Lady Grantley paused before turning to Annabelle, Lady Annabelle, you attended school at Bath did you not?" asked Lady Grantley with a smile.

"Yes I did. Miss Tuckerman's."

"My daughter went there too, she is a little older than you Lady Annabelle, but well she never mentioned you went there."

"Really?" said Annabelle politely.

"Yes she made such good friends at Miss Tuckerman's I'm quite surprised that you did not become bosom- chums with her?"

"Yes well Miss Grantley does have a large circle of friends." Smiled Mrs Olsen.

Annabelle tried to look passive, but inside she was squirming to hit something or somebody. The only thing restraining her was the fact that her grandmother was watching her rather pointedly. So Annabelle took to glaring at quite another member of the group - Miles. Why was he here anyway??

Miles was wondering the exact same thing. He felt a complete fool sitting with a bunch of women sipping tea. He kept telling himself the only reason he had come was because saying yes to his mother was a hell of a lot easier than saying no to his mother. However every time he repeated this reason to himself its acceptability became less and less.

The question was, why had his mother wanted him to come? Some sort of reverse thinking on her part - that the more he saw of Belle the less he would find her attractive? Because it wasn't working....

"Yes, it is a great sorrow that you have not joined their circle of friendship, Lady Annabelle." Crooned Lady Rockhaven.

Annabelle was not fooled as to the source of their niceness. The only reason they were treating her with any semblance of politeness was because she was the daughter of an Earl, the granddaughter of a Duke, and because her grandmother was despite her age a formidable society opponent.

Annabelle just smiled and took refuge in a scone.

"Oh your Grace, I forgot to mention to you, have you heard the shocking news of Miss Alessandria Carrington, she eloped with her father's new steward Mr Ragsdale can you believe it?" said Mrs Olsen.

Annabelle almost choked on her scone. Alessandria had done what? She had thought the girl a pea-brain, but not that pea brained! Annabelle felt stricken, she had told the girl to follow her heart, but she didn't' think she would fall in love with a steward.

Not that marrying a steward was wrong in anyway, Annabelle fully believed in love taking precedence over all else, there was that dreamy steward of Ash's Mr Kilner... But Annabelle had met Mr Ragsdale, he was not dreamy, in fact he was old and quite ugly and he had been quite obviously on the catch for an heiress.

"Yes. To have thrown her fortune away on such a man!" sighed Lady Upton.

Annabelle's mouth almost dropped open. To have thrown her fortune away? They were talking about a girl's life here, and they were simply discussing her money!

Miles saw the warning signs, namely Annabelle's eyes flashing and her hands tightening around her teacup.

"Well I think - " she started, before cut off in mid sentence.

"Some music would be nice, yes I thoroughly agree Lady Annabelle, and perhaps you would like to oblige." Said Miles smoothly.

The Duchess almost snorted into her cup.

"Yes Belle, some music would be delightful, you have not played your harp for some time. "

Annabelle didn't' know who to glare at more, Miles or her grandmother, wordlessly she stood, curtseyed and went to prepare her harp.

Miles watched the dagger looks she was giving him and shook his head. Didn't she see what they were trying to do? They were trying to get her to blow up in public, and she was about to give them what they wanted on a plate.

"Oh the harp, the one instrument my dear Sophronia did not manage to perfect. Though the harp is not a very beautiful instrument. There is no music for the harp!" said Mrs Olsen.

"Yes, it simply consists of the playing of music composed for other instruments." Commented Lady Grantley. "Not to slight your excellent ability of course Lady Annabelle."

"No of course not!" muttered Annabelle as she sat behind her harp and began to play. She ended up fudging her way through the difficult passages, as it had been a long time since she had played, and her memory of the passages was rather shaky.

She was however rewarded with a smattering of clapping when she had finished rather precipitately as she had forgotten the last part of the music.

"Oh that was very nice." Smiled Lady Upton.

"Oh yes, very nice...and what was it my dear?" asked Lady Grantley.

Annabelle suppressed a groan.

"It was Mozart's concerto for flute and harp."

"Really, but you don't have a flute..." said Lady Rockhaven.

Annabelle gripped her harp and glared at Lady Rockhaven.

"Yes my dear, perhaps you should play something more able to be played on the harp." Said Mrs Olsen helpfully.

"Well, what would you like to hear?'

"I don't know some Handel."

"Handel? On the harp?" said Annabelle as she searched her brain for something suitable to play. Brilliant notion Handel on the Harp.

Miles gingerly sipped his second cup of tea. He did not like tea, he had never liked tea, and then why on earth was he drinking the blasted stuff. Oh yes that's right, if he wasn't drinking, he had to engage himself in conversation.

"Yes, they left in a hired carriage for Gretna on Monday, and dear Sir Walter has been frantic in trying to catch up to his daughter. But well it has been two days ...." Said Lady Rockhaven deliberately letting her sentence hang.

"Yes, there is no chance for escaping marriage now...."

The women all exchanged knowing glances, while the Duchess looked sideways at Annabelle. Miles glared at his mother, what was she thinking alluding to such things! Especially in front of certain people who wouldn't quite understand.

Annabelle was half listening to the conversation. Why shouldn't they be prevented from marriage? If there were really in love then of course not, but if Alessandria could be persuaded that he was only after her money?

Then it dawned on Annabelle that there must be some subtext to the conversation that she was missing, because she noticed both Miles and her grandmother looked less than impressed with the way the conversation was heading.

"Yes well, poor girl, it is a sorry match, but it cannot be helped." Said the Duchess brusquely before waving to the footman for more cake.

"Oh but could it have been helped??" said Mrs Olsen. "I mean Miss Carrington was a very sweet innocent child, very mindful of her duty to her name and parents. What could have made her do such a thing??"

"Yes whatever could have made her do such a thing?" echoed Lady Upton.

Annabelle seamlessly moved from playing Handel to Beethoven, not daring to look up.

"A handsome charming man tends to be able to talk a girl into anything." Replied the Duchess, before adding under her breath. "Unfortunately not always."

Lady Upton bridled under her feathered hat. No allusion to her son's situation with the hoyden was going to be made without return fire.

"Yes, but often it is the countenance of her friends which prompts a girl's decision." Replied Lady Upton slowly sipping her tea. Placing the cup down on the table she smiled brightly at Annabelle. "Miss Carrington is a very good friend of yours I believe Annabelle dear."

Annabelle paused briefly in her playing, before responding. "I was good friends with Miss Carrington at school, but I have not seen her much since, unless in a large social setting."

"Oh really, I thought you were much greater friends than that."

"Oh no, about on par with my friendship with Miss Grantley." Replied Annabelle with a smile, before devoting all her energy to her harp playing.

The women all gave weak smiles, but wheels were turning in the minds of the Duchess and of Miles.

Miles let his mind wander away from the conversation of the ladies as it turned to hats and clothes. Had Belle said something to Miss Carrington that had prompted her into running away with a steward? He knew for a fact that Belle was good friends with Miss Carrington and had spent some time at their estate recently. But even Belle could not have interfered in such a way! Surely not.... though she did have a penchant for matchmaking...no not even Belle would tell a bird-witted female to run away with a card-carrying fortune hunter. Miles didn't know what Sir Walter had been thinking when he employed that man as a steward of all things.

"Oh Annabelle dear, don't stop playing, we all enjoy your music so much." Cooed Lady Upton.

"Yes, do continue Lady Annabelle, you do play delightfully, even if it is the harp." Added Mrs Olsen.

Annabelle viciously plucked the harp strings, thinking vicious thoughts. Horrible old bats!

"Perhaps Lady Annabelle may wish to play some Turlough O'Carolan. I believe you are an admirer of his, Lady Annabelle?"

Annabelle raised her head and smiled. At last some actual music for the harp!

"Of course Lord Upton."

"Oh yes.... do play T-T -T That man's work for us." Contributed Lady Rockhaven.

Annabelle turned her mind to what piece of play, and automatically one came to her fingers, she did not know why this one specifically came to mind, but it did.

Miles almost dropped his teacup. She was playing that piece?

Several bars in, Annabelle remembered the song. She looked up at Miles and found him looking at her; unconsciously she smiled at him before returning to focus on her playing.

Miles' brain was screaming 'look away look away' but his eyes remained riveted on Annabelle. Why on earth was she playing this music? He remembered Annabelle nervousness of being asked to perform at a soiree in her debut season. She had asked him what she should play and this had been his suggestion. He had watched her practice straight for a week, wondering if she knew she was playing his favourite composition. He wondered if she knew it now.

Annabelle could play this piece with her eyes shut; she had tortured herself over it for so long and needlessly. She had performed the piece effortlessly on the night and it had been very well received. She had not played it of late because of its Miles links.

She finished triumphantly and smiled at the assembled company.

"That was very beautiful Belle. " Said The Duchess. "What was it called?"

"Separation of Soul and Body."

"Really, well it was a delightful piece my dear, I should like to know more about it."

"Well I am afraid I cannot help you Grandmamma, you shall have to apply to Lord Upton, after all it is his favourite music, is it not?"

Miles nodded at the assembled company while his eyes almost bulged out of his sockets. No, No his mother's plan was not working at all!

Lady Upton almost dropped her teacup when she noticed the look on her son's face. He resembled her cocker spaniel!!

She abruptly stood up. "Well it was nice talking to you, your Grace, but unfortunately I have many errands to run."

The assembled company stood to allow Lady Upton's departure. Miles took it that this was his signal to leave and did so, accompanying his mother and ignoring her dark mutterings.

The other women did not stay very long, and before Annabelle knew it, it was just her and the Duchess.

"So Annabelle did you tell Miss Carrington to run away with a steward?" asked the Duchess casually.

Annabelle's jaw dropped.

"You think I would tell Alessandria to run off with a fat, ugly fortune hunting steward!!!"

"Well I wouldn't put it past you to try in interfere in her life!"

"I may have given my friend some advice, she didn't know how to stand up to overbearing pushy, interfering relations. "

The Duchess rolled her eyes at her granddaughter as she flung herself out of the room. A Mona Lisa smile crossed her face, well perhaps Belle could deal with overbearing pushy interfering relations, but subtle crafty and cunning ones were a lot harder to escape.

Part Three.

Friends: People who know you well, but like you anyway. Anonymous.

Miles passed the decanter of brandy down the table. A wicked grin crossed his face, as he thought of his mother upstairs probably raining curses down on the nature of undutiful sons. He looked up the ceiling from his place at the head of his table, and leisurely threw one leg over the arm of his chair, settling himself in for a long night.

"What's the silly grin for Miles?" asked Ash, sitting at his left, leaning back in his chair, his legs flung out in front of him crossed at the ankles.

"Nothing." Replied Miles laughing, throwing a suggestive look up at the ceiling.

"Oh the bad Lord Upton, defying his mother's wishes!" said Colonel Fitzwilliam with mock horror, battling with his brother over the control of the decanter.

Darcy and Bingley sat opposite the brothers, looking slightly down in the mouth.

"Cheer up Darce this isn't a funeral!" exclaimed the Colonel.

Darcy just nursed his glass.

"Well I'm so glad I decided to come to this party tonight." Remarked Lord Douglas who was sitting at the other end of the table.

"Oh shut up!" exclaimed Miles, before turning his attention to the woe-bygone Darcy at his right. "Now tell us what is the matter, you are completely spoiling the atmosphere."

Darcy leant one elbow on the table, cradling his face in his hand. "Well, the thing is.... i do not understand women. "

" You don't understand women!" laughed the Colonel. "I don't think anyone understands women Darce. But tell us what particularly don't you understand about women."

"Well I had an argument with Elizabeth and she was being irrational! Bingley was there he will tell you."

"Er - Darcy I have to say she wasn't being irrational." Quietly added Bingley.

"You don't think she was being irrational?"

"No I don't."

The two friends glared at each other.

"Care to enlighten us further gentlemen..." probed Ash.

"Yes well Miss Elizabeth was upset at Darcy because he insulted her family, and because she is feeling insecure about the ton."

"Did she tell you she was insecure??" exclaimed Darcy.

"No, but it was fairly obvious."

"So why was Miss Elizabeth being irrational, if she was angry you insulted her family??" Said Lord Douglas perturbed.

"I did not insult her family I merely spoke the truth!"

"Which was?"

"I said it was hard not to be embarrassed of a family where the mother's sole goal is to sell off her daughters, where the father hides from his problem, where the middle daughter parrot for morals she doesn't understand and where the youngest is at 15 a shameless hussy."

"You missed several of the daughters, Darcy." Pointed out Bingley.

"Well I am hardly likely to think Elizabeth has a large character flaw I wouldn't be asking her to marry me otherwise! And Jane.... well the only thing wrong with Jane is that she smiles too much."

"You've still missed one." Remarked the Colonel.

Darcy gave a wary look in Ash's direction. "I think it might be best if I just refrained from commenting on that score."

The group's eyes swivelled to Ash, then back to Darcy again.

"What?? What are you all looking at - Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Ompff!" Darcy only got half way through his sentence before his chair toppled over backwards.

Ash negligently drew his legs back up with a small tight smile on his face.

Darcy jumped back up. "You see Damned if I do and damned if I don't."

Miles gave a snort.

"Well Lord Upton, I don't see you understanding women any better!"

"Never said I did old boy, now calm down, sit down and drink!"

"The best advice a man could give!" replied Lord Douglas raising his glass to Miles. Miles returned the salute before both men downed their glasses.

Darcy righted his chair and sat back in it peevishly, first making sure he was out of Ash's reach.

"So Bingley why do you look so morose." Questioned the Colonel

"I don't have an opinion."

The group froze.

"You don't have a what old chap?"

"An opinion, or if I do I can never manage to tell anyone for fear of upsetting them. I don't think Jane thinks very highly of me because of it."

"Bingley what do you think of this brandy?" questioned Miles.

Happy to have the subject changed, Bingley took a thoughtful sip of the drink. "Well it is a fine vintage, but I fear it has not been stored right."

"There you go Bingley that was an opinion, and a very good one at that." Said Miles with much aplomb.

The group gave a small chuckle. Bingley took refuge in his drink before a wicked thought sprung to mind.

"I know a very good artist my lord. "

Miles inclined his head towards Bingley wondering quite what he meant.

"Yes and he does excellent work in restoring pictures. I remember once I accidentally tore one of Caroline's sketches practically into shreds and to this artist I took the pieces and he recreated it, to this day it's the best picture Caroline's ever drawn."

The group stared at Bingley.

'I think you've had just a little more than you should Bingley." Said Darcy reaching to remove Bingley's glass. But Bingley forestalled him.

"Oh no, I think my lord might understand me."

Miles shook his head at Bingley, and gave him a deliberate smile, acknowledging the hit.

Ash raised an eyebrow at Miles. "What is this? Have you recently destroyed a piece of artwork in your collection! Should we all try and guess what it was?"

Miles shook his head. "Oh no, I feel a much better topic of conversation would be.... about... you Ash."

There was resounding agreement to this suggestion and Ash was applied to.

Ash shot his friend a look that promised he would soon turn the tables back on him.

"Well, me, what is there to say about me? Well.... dearie me..." said Ash before launching into a long and complex diatribe about the state of the organisation of the transportation military's uniforms.

"Enough, Enough!" laughed the Colonel "I'll contribute something to the conversation! You said you didn't understand women Darcy and I agree with you! They have horrible taste."

"Not all women have horrible taste." Replied Bingley.

"Well let's take my cousin Anne shall we. I thought she had superb taste. I thought she quite liked me in my red coat! But then yesterday I overhear her, telling my sister, that on a purely aesthetical basis Miles is the epitomy of manhood! I mean what dreadful taste is that!"

Miles almost choked on his brandy. He looked up at the Colonel with laughing eyes. "And why on earth would she think that, when she could have a red coat like yourself."

'I have no idea."

'Well I must say I did think I was looking particularly fine last night." Said Miles in a snooty tone.

"And we all know who you were dressing up for too!" smirked Ash.

Miles swung out with his free leg, to trip up Ash's chair, but Ash was ready for him and Miles ended up viciously kicking the table leg.

Colonel Fitzwilliam dissolved into a fit of laughter as Miles let off a volley of curses, in several different languages.

Darcy continued to nurse his single drink, feeling even more out of place in the jovial surroundings. He frowned when Ash pulled out a cigarillo, walked over to the fire and lit it. His frown became deeper when the Colonel and Lord Douglas joined him in lighting up. Swirls of smoke floated up to the ceiling.

"What's wrong Darcy?" said Ash with a questioning look at his cousin.

"It's a horrible habit."

"Yes, no worse than snuff."

"You think!? It's disgusting!" exclaimed Darcy, looking to his host for support.

Miles leant forward and snatched at Ash's cigarillo but instead of stubbing it out, he took a puff, looking wickedly to the ceiling.

"Poor mother...."

"Poor Lady Upton."

"What a shame..."

"What a shame...."

Darcy shook his head, "How can you...."

Ash sighed. "I rarely indulge you know that, and it isn't any worse than snuff, but in the company of so many military men! What else can you do?"

"So many military men! There are three of you and three of us!" retorted Darcy.

"Ah no you forget Miles was once one of us. But sadly only for a year, he couldn't hack the pace."

Miles glared at the Colonel before retorting, "No that wasn't it, I just found that red wasn't my colour."

"You could have joined the navy!" said Lord Douglas.

"Ah the Navy.... I am afraid that the prospect of being pitched about 24 hours, 7 days a week, does not appeal!"

The group laughed.

"How long do you think this war is going to last?" asked Bingley to the assembled company.

"Years most probably." Replied Miles.

The other's nodded. "Something like that."

"Why are we fighting it anyway?" asked Ash rhetorically.

"Why! Why? Napoleon Bonaparte wants to conquer the world!" Exploded Darcy.

"That's not why this started!" countered the Colonel.

"No this started because the French people wanted a constitution, they wanted more say. " said Miles pouring himself some more brandy.

"Well that didn't have to turn into a war surely?" said Bingley.

"You think? It took Oliver Cromwell, the execution of our monarch, and later the Glorious Revolution before any real power was taken from monarchy - and we still don't have a written constitution, though some would argue that is one of our finest points, makes everything so damn flexible. However it makes sense the French would follow the same way."

"We didn't have a reign of terror." Said Darcy.

" We hadn't invented the guillotine."

"So why Napoleon??"

"An Opportunist I figure.... it was complete chaos, someone with half a brain could have succeeded, and he was in the military, who controls the army often wins!"

"Well it is said that Napoleon only has half a brain!"

Ash snorted. "Kind of poetic that they had a revolution to rid themselves of a autocratic stubborn monarch and end up with a despotic emperor who wants to conquer the world and is a great advocate of nepotism, good to see a man who looks out for his family and is a great believer in in-breeding. No difference to what they had really! Except do you think life is any easier for the French peasants now?"

"Never is." Said Miles. "Wars aren't really ever fought for people."

"Come, come this is much too serious!" said Colonel Fitzwilliam. "Now tell us more about this picture of Miles', Bingley, I'd very much like to know who it was of!"

"You can't guess Ricky?"

"Oh I can guess but I want it said out loud!"

"You are a wretch Ricky, an absolute wretch!" said Miles shaking his head. "To change the conversation completely, there has been a horrible scandal."

"I know the Carrington Chit, I cannot believe she would do something like that, she was the most bird witted creature and had the mildest personality!!" Exclaimed Ash.

Darcy frowned. Sometimes he just didn't understand his friends. They all acted jovially, they gambled, they drank, they took snuff and secretly blew a cloud every now and then, they took hours over their clothes and looks, they did everything society expected of them, and yet it was not them! Why did they do it? They were not frivolous people! They could talk seriously yet they chose not too, they couldn't care less about society, yet they did conform to its rules, they acted the part - but why!

He didn't understand them! He had asked Ash about this one time. Ash had just given his a blank look and replied.

"But Darce, life is like a play. You have to act; if you don't, you just look like some poor sod whose forgotten his lines!"

Part Four.

Marriage is a lottery, but you can't tear up your ticket if you lose. F.M. Knowles.

Lord Holling sucked the top of his cane. What was he going to do? He was going to have to do something constructive; otherwise his grandmother would never forgive him.

Lord Holling refreshed from a goodnight's sleep after the Upton Soiree had waltzed into the breakfast parlour, which was filled quite adequately by his grandmother and her companion.

"Ah Teddy. I have the pleasure of informing you that several of my acquaintance are coming for tea, I expect you to be in attendance."

Lord Holling had an idea about what sort of acquaintance these people were going to be and was not looking forward to the morning, however he had been given a respite by accompanying Miss Catherine home. He should therefore be returning straight back to his grandmother, however Lord Holling would rather walk on hot coals than sit with women like Lady Grantley and Lady Upton.

Also Miss Catherine had given him much food for thought. While breakfasting with the Duchess the conversation had of course turned to the shock of the announced engagement the night before. Maria had seemed quite elated with it and had prattled on and on about wedding clothes, the Duchess however had not seemed committed to the idea of her friend marrying Mr Collins. She seemed quite sure that Miss Catherine would marry someone else.

However Lord Holling was not so sure, after his talk with Miss Catherine he was decidedly depressed. She didn't seem to hold out much hope, and even if she was saved from marrying Mr Collins, she saw herself existing as a social pariah after being labelled a jilting jezebel.

Lord Holling felt that Miss Catherine, sweet girl that she was, had just a little too much of an overactive imagination. From what Lord Holling had seen of Mr Collins, he understood her reservations about marrying him, for he did seem an odd individual, however there seemed nothing remarkably wrong about him, he might very well make a good husband.

Lord Holling strolled a little further up the street, before stopping stock still in shock. Mr Collins was reeling out of a rather disreputable inn. He looked as though he had been engaged in a brawl, his clothes were messed and he sported a black eye. Lord Holling's mouth dropped. This was the individual Miss Catherine was supposed to marry?

Lord Holling took it all back. Miss Catherine could not marry a man who frequented low taverns and engaged in brawls! No woman should!

Lord Holling stalked up to the little toad, for he was no gentleman.

"Excuse me sir, and where do you think you are going." He said in his most Ducal fashion, well he was going to be a Duke, he might as well start practicing now.

"Oh Lord Holling!" cried the little rotter. "I was just back to my little foxglove, she must have missed me last night!"

Lord Holling resisted the urge to whack Mr Collins with his cane; such a vulgar creature was below his notice.

"Yes I did enjoy the soiree last night, I would have been most happy to discuss it with my charming gladiolus! However I was viciously attacked! Someone obviously realised my importance and felt it necessary to end my life, my lord. " Simpered Mr Collins.

"You are not going to present yourself looking like that!" said Lord Holling coldly.

"Of course my dear family and even dearer calla Lilly, will not mind, not when they hear the shocking circumstances. Not to mention that my dear schizophragma will have to become used to seeing me in all my dirt." Mr Collins gave a little titter. "Or perhaps I could call on Lady Catherine? Perhaps the assailant was really after her and dear Miss de Bourgh!!"

"Yes perhaps you should visit them before returning to the Bennet household." Said Lord Holling tightly, hoping the little runt would be squashed before ever making it back into the Bennet's sights.

Mr Collins bowed obsequiously and climbed into a hackney.

No, No Miss Catherine could not marry a creature like that. He had heard her tale this morning and had soothed her and represented to her the more positive points of being married in general, but that was before he saw the little worms true nature. To dare to present himself like that, and in those words before a lady!

He'd rather Miss Catherine was married to.... to...himself than that man. For the second time that day Lord Holling stopped still. Marry Miss Catherine? What ever made him think of that? It was true he thought very highly of her, she was not vulgar, she did not flaunt herself, she was very pretty and in his opinion she did need some protecting from the world.

That was it! That was the solution. Was this what his grandmother had been subtly prompting him to do?

Before really noticing where he was, Lord Holling found himself back at the Bennet's hired house, requesting to see Mr Bennet.

Mr Bennet was sitting in a little cramped study of a room.

"Mr Bennet."

"Lord Holling."

"Mr Bennet, I wanted to talk to you about your daughter Catherine."

'You wanted to talk about Kitty."

"I recently saw Mr Collins."

'Really? We had become quite concerned for him when he did not return from the soiree." Lied Mr Bennet.

"Yes, he was exiting a tavern of a low nature, bruised and crumpled looking quite like he had engaged in a brawl. When I asked him where he was going, he said he was returning here and he made some vulgar assertions about your daughter."

"Vulgar assertions?"

"I would rather not mention them sir, I don't think a gentlemen could repeat them."

"Very well Lord Holling, but if he was on his way here..."

"I persuaded him to visit Lady Catherine first, to assure himself of her safety."

'Ah. Well thank you for coming to inform me Lord Holling."

"It was my pleasure sir. But that was not the only reason for my calling upon you today."

"Really?"

"Yes sir, I would like to offer for your daughter Catherine. I would like her to marry me."

Mr Bennet's jaw dropped, he opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. However soon the room was pierced by a shriek.

"Oh my dear lord!" cried Mrs Bennet, standing in the doorway. Mr Bennet looked in horror at Mrs Bennet, when on earth had she arrived.

"Oh my dear sir, you may marry Kitty tomorrow! Oh! Oh! Oh my nerves!" shrieked Mrs Bennet.

The music Belle plays Continued in the Next Section