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Chapter 4

Posted on Sunday, 6 June 2004

Early the next morning, Jane was pleased to receive a note from Netherfield written in a strong, masculine hand. The news was the very thing for which she had been hoping and praying.

Netherfield

To Miss Jane Bennet:

Please excuse the liberty I am taking in writing to you, but I know you will forgive me when I tell you that Miss Elizabeth awoke this morning and is in good spirits.

I know that she would appreciate a visit from her family, and Mr. Bingley has asked that I extend an invitation to you to come to your sister just as soon as may be.

I do not wish to alarm you, but I will say that Miss Elizabeth was very feverish last night, but that in the early morning hours we got the best of it and that she slept peacefully for the majority of the night. She is resting now, or I am certain she would have undertaken the task of writing to you herself.

I will look forward to seeing you and your family.

Sincerely,

Fitzwilliam Darcy

On reading the missive, feelings of relief and gratitude swelled in Jane's breast as she realized that all her wishes for her sister had been answered. She was alarmed at the news of the difficult night that Elizabeth had passed, but apparently she had been carefully attended. In Jane's mind, the person responsible for that care could only have been Mr. Darcy himself, otherwise how would he have known of her condition in the 'early morning hours?' The service he had been rendering to her sister was invaluable. His compassion exceeded any limits she had ever established as reasonable and generous. While Jane was grateful to Mr. Darcy, she wished she had been the one to care for her sister. Surely it was her place.

"It is a fair prospect, is it not, girls?" cried Mrs. Bennet to Jane and Mary who were accompanying her in the carriage.

On reading Mr. Darcy's note, Mrs. Bennet had been mildly alarmed, but as that same note brought reassurances that Elizabeth was recovering apace, her thoughts turned once again to more pleasing subjects.

Her comment on the prospect of Netherfield was more of a statement of fact to herself than an inquiry that she cared to have answered. Mrs. Bennet wanted to thank Mr. Bingley and his sister for their kindness towards her daughter, and do all in her power to forward some kind of a match. She considered Lizzy and Jane, Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy. Somewhere in that combination, she thought, an attachment could be formed, and she would see one of her daughters well married.

"Everything about Netherfield is beautiful, Mama," said Jane. "What do you think, Mary?"

Mary had not bothered to look out the window to see the house. She had seen it before, and did not appreciate such attractions as a beautiful home.

"I think that the beauty of a home is not determined by its outward appearances, but by the quality of the relationships of those that live within. A modest home may be a mansion, while a great estate may be a prison." Mary was proud of her opinion. She thought it showed an uncommon degree of taste and intelligence.

"Oh Mary, hush girl. It is a beautiful house," scolded Mrs. Bennet as she leaned towards the window to admire the place.

A groom came out to meet the ladies and handed them out of the carriage. They ascended the stairs to the door, where they were met by a servant who opened it before they could even knock. The entire staff had been asked to await the arrival of the Bennets.

"We are here to see Mr. Bingley," said Jane with a smile for the servant.

"Yes, ma'am. This way, please. Mr. Bingley is in the drawing room."

The three ladies followed the servant, who announced their arrival.

Darcy, Bingley and Miss Bingley stood to greet them.

"Mama, Mary, this is Miss Bingley, Mr. Bingley, and Mr. Darcy." The men and women exchanged bows and curtsies. Jane found herself immediately under the scrutiny of Miss Bingley.

"Mrs. Bennet, you have a charming little family here. I am sure Miss Bennet takes a prodigious good deal of care of you all," said Miss Bingley with mocking civility.

"Not such a little family, Miss Bingley," said Mrs. Bennet. "I have two more daughters at home, and Jane does take very good care of us. She inherited Longbourn after her father passed away some years ago and manages the affairs of the estate to the advantage of all her family."

Miss Bingley was astonished and immediately very jealous. "Miss Bennet, you are in possession of an estate?"

"Yes, Miss Bingley. Legally it is mine, I suppose," answered Jane, "but I view it as my family's home."

"Of course, you do," Miss Bingley said dryly.

"Mr. Bingley, you have a fine looking room here. Netherfield Park is such a delightful place. I hope you will never wish to leave it," said Mrs. Bennet as she surveyed the room, looking for an indication of the wealth of the two gentlemen.

"For now I consider myself quite fixed here, I assure you, madam," Bingley said. As long as Jane was at Longbourn, he would not be going anywhere.

"Do you not wish to go into town for the season?" asked Darcy. The Bingleys and Mr. Darcy spent part of each year in London and therefore Bingley's intention of remaining in the country took Darcy by surprise.

Bingley looked directly at Jane when he said, "No, Darcy, I am quite content to remain just where I am."

Darcy followed Bingley's line of sight until his own eyes rested on Miss Bennet. Darcy could not tell if Bingley was serious or if this was another one of his passing love interests that he seemed to stumble into each time he went somewhere new.

"I am sorry, Mrs. Bennet," said Mr. Bingley. "I am certain you did not come to talk to us, but to see your daughter. Please, allow me to show you to her room." Mrs. Bennet, Jane and Mary followed Bingley from the room.

When they were alone, Miss Bingley had some private words for Darcy.

"Mr. Darcy, my brother is going to make himself a fool with Jane Bennet," said Miss Bingley. "You saw, I am sure, the way he was staring at her."

"She is an attractive woman, Miss Bingley. I cannot blame him." Mr. Darcy describing another woman as being beautiful is not what Miss Bingley wished to hear.

"But you know how quickly he falls in love, as he calls it, every time he meets a pretty face. With his charm and good looks, he is very capable of making any woman love him."

"Your brother is a handsome, amiable man. I know of no one who feels anything but the highest respect for him. It should not surprise you that women are attracted to him."

"Yes, but Jane Bennet...," began Miss Bingley. She paused to calm herself. It would not do for Mr. Darcy to see her discomfited by the likes of Jane Bennet.

"Pray, continue, Miss Bingley."

"Jane Bennet will be no different from the others, and you know there have been others, and..."

Darcy interrupted her. "Harmless flirtations, Miss Bingley. That is all."

Pressing her point, she spoke quickly. "She is just another fortune hunter seeking an easy mark, and my brother will fall under her power if we do not prevent it."

Miss Bingley's frustration was growing. She was counting on her brother making an excellent marriage in order to increase her own importance so that Mr. Darcy would consider her to be a worthy match.

"Fortune hunter, Miss Bingley? She has an estate of her own. She is independent." Darcy smiled at her. "Perhaps you are jealous of that?"

"I am told that Longbourn is worth no more than two thousand a year," said Miss Bingley triumphantly, "and the daughters have no dowries. Their father could give them nothing. All they have is the estate. Yes, Mr. Darcy, she is a fortune hunter and we must protect my brother."

"Although Miss Bennet has not shown any undue attention to Bingley, it is true that she is just the sort of woman with whom he would declare himself in love," he replied. Her point was well taken. As much as he disliked agreeing with Miss Bingley, she was right. If Bingley decided he was in love with Jane Bennet, he would insist that they marry, and with his generous nature, he would seek to improve the fortunes of all her family.

"Please, sir!" she cried. "You will help me, will you not?"

"I always look after my friends, Miss Bingley." Darcy furrowed his brow, undecided as to any course of action.

Mrs. Bennet passed into Elizabeth's bedchamber, approached the bedside and took her daughter's hand, quickly noting her condition. With a slight nod of her head, she satisfied herself that Elizabeth was indeed well. She was then free to deliver the message that occasioned the true reason for her visit.

"I am pleased to see you looking so well. Lizzy, you are doing a very good thing by remaining here at Netherfield. I hope you are being kind to Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy." Mrs. Bennet dropped her hand and gazed about the room. It was beautifully appointed, and she determined the furniture to be antique and very handsome. "Oh, and I hope you are feeling better," she added.

"Mama, it is a comfort to see you again, too," laughed Elizabeth. She had not been ill long enough to forget what her mother's reaction would be to two single men of fortune living in the neighborhood, and she, herself, now under their roof.

"Mama, Lizzy has been asleep these three days," cried Jane, rushing to Elizabeth's side. "You must not talk that way, you must not." She was hurt by her mother's apparent lack of concern for Elizabeth, though perhaps not surprised by it.

"Never mind that, Jane," said Mrs. Bennet. "Lizzy, you must remain here as long as possible."

"Mr. Manning says I must not be moved for two weeks," said Elizabeth, smiling inwardly at the thought of being obliged to remain at Netherfield and near Mr. Darcy. "I can assure you, therefore, that I will not be going anywhere for quite some time. Mr. Bingley insists that I follow Mr. Manning's every instruction."

"Mr. Bingley insists, does he? Well, I hope he comes very often to visit you," said Mrs. Bennet with an eager look on her face. Mr. Bingley's constant attention to her daughter would be just the thing.

"Actually," said Elizabeth dryly, "Mr. Bingley has never come to see me. I do not know him at all."

At that moment, Jane caught Elizabeth's eye and the sisters exchanged a smile.

It was her other sister's turn to speak. "Lizzy," asked Mary, "are they treating you well?"

"I have only been awake one day." And looking over at Anne, Elizabeth said, "Anne has been very kind to me and I have wanted for nothing."

"But are you not often alone?" asked Mary. "I mean, would you not prefer to come home with us? I am sure the ride would not be too difficult for you. I will walk so that you may have a whole bench in the coach." Mary felt all the shock of having nearly lost Elizabeth and wished to mend their strained relationship, and she could not do that if Elizabeth remained at Netherfield.

"Mary, come and sit by me," said Elizabeth, motioning Mary to the bed. "The physician has asked that I remain here to avoid further injury, but I am certain that Mr. Bingley would welcome you at anytime so that you may visit me, and I know I would be glad of your company."

"Lizzy, I am afraid of what might have happened to you, of what I was certain had happened to you," Mary confessed. "I was..."

"You do not need to worry any longer. I will be well soon enough," Elizabeth reassured her. "I am growing stronger everyday."

"Lizzy, you look very well today," said Jane. "Almost happy, I would say." Indeed, there was a brilliance to her eyes and a playfulness of expression that spoke of delight. Jane could only imagine that it was the result of the pleasure she must be receiving from Mr. Darcy's almost constant society.

"Lizzy is always happy, Jane," noted Mrs. Bennet, though she was not paying much attention to either of them. She was engaged in examining the room and determining the wealth of the current tenant.

"I am happy," said Elizabeth. She could have added much on the subject of Mr. Darcy and the happiness he was providing her, but, of course, she did not. "And I am grateful to be getting well again."

"Are you certain that you cannot return with us, Lizzy?" asked Mary once again.

"Oh, Mary, thank you for your concern, but I must remain here," smiled Elizabeth.

Mrs. Bennet, wanting to turn the conversation back to matters of the first importance, asked, "Has Mr. Darcy been to see you, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth had been looking at Mary, but quickly turned her head so she could eye her mother. Jane, who saw it all, realized that this was a subject not to be entered into, and acknowledged the anxiety that Elizabeth would feel if their mother should learn the extent of Mr. Darcy's care for her.

"Mama," said Jane quickly, hoping to redirect her mother's attention, "come and look at the view out this window. It is quite remarkable." She took her mother's arm and tried to lead her away from Elizabeth.

"Oh, I am sure it is beautiful," said Mrs. Bennet, freeing herself from Jane's grasp, for she was not at all interested in the view. "Everything about Netherfield is beautiful." She returned to the bed, though Jane's purpose was accomplished. "If I could see you settled here, Lizzy, I could wish for nothing better."

Elizabeth knew that if she were to be settled anywhere, it would not be at Netherfield, for Mr. Darcy's residence was... She could not stifle a blush at such a thought.

"Jane," said Elizabeth with a relieved smile, "How are you? How is Longbourn?"

"Oh, Lizzy, I am fine," Jane said with a sigh, "but to be honest, I have not spent much time on matters of the estate since the day when..." Jane's voice broke "...when you did not come back." Jane's spirits had recovered because Elizabeth was recovering, but the horror of that day would never be forgot.

Elizabeth looked at her with a heartfelt expression of love on her face. "Jane, I am so sorry to have caused you such worry."

"Well, girls, I think we should not overstay our welcome. Goodbye, Lizzy," said her mother brusquely as she left the room. Mary waved and smiled as she followed Mrs. Bennet, but Jane did not immediately leave, but moved to the edge of the bed next to Elizabeth and took her hand.

"Goodbye, Lizzy," said Jane affectionately. "I will come again tomorrow."

Brushing a curl away from Elizabeth's face, Jane assured her, "Lizzy, please remember that I love you."

Elizabeth smiled up at her. "How could I ever forget, dear Jane?"

As soon as Mrs. Bennet and her daughters had departed, Darcy walked up the stairs to Elizabeth's room. Pausing in front of her door for a moment to collect himself, he was struck by an uncomfortable thought. He pulled out the ribbon and laced it through his fingers. He recalled his admission to the Bingleys of desiring the unexpected in his life. Certainly Miss Elizabeth did not meet the expectations that were usually required for the mistress of Pemberley in terms of wealth and status. She would not receive the approval of either family or society. He dismissed the thoughts. She had his approval, yet...

Darcy had never considered himself to be in love before, but he knew what it was to feel attraction. However, with Elizabeth it was more. He was completely enchanted.

"Come in," Elizabeth said as she responded to a familiar knock at her door.

Before entering the room, Darcy looked over at Anne, seeking her permission. She favored him with a smile, and he entered.

"Good afternoon, Miss Bennet," he said cheerfully.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Darcy," she replied with equal enthusiasm.

"Did you enjoy your visit with your family? It was kind of them to come," he said, walking to the foot of her bed.

"Yes, it was. I feel as if it has been so long since I have seen them, though I know it has only been a few days," smiled Elizabeth. The pleasure she experienced in his mere presence in the room was greater than she had imagined it would be.

"May I ask if all is well at home?" asked Darcy. She was beautiful when she smiled, he thought. No, she was beautiful all the time.

"I am a little worried about my sister, Mary. She is acting strangely around me," said Elizabeth. It is true that she and Mary had never been close, and she was surprised at the depth of Mary's professed concern for her.

"Well," he said, "I am certain she was afraid of losing you, as were we all. Perhaps even though she knows you are out of danger, she is still gaining confidence in these new feelings."

"Perhaps she is," said Elizabeth. "Perhaps I am."

"Were you afraid, Miss Bennet? Do you remember falling?" he asked, earnestly hoping she did not.

She thought for a moment. "I do not recall falling or anything about it. I am certain I dreamt while I was asleep, for I usually do. There is one thing, though, that I do remember." Their eyes locked. "I remember your voice. You must have always been speaking to me."

After a period of silence when they looked into each other's eyes - a period that should have caused embarrassment, but in this case, did not, he spoke.

"Well, I was afraid for you," he said. "Every moment that you were asleep my apprehension grew that perhaps you would not wake up, and I could not bear the thought of losing...of anything happening to you."

Elizabeth felt her pulse quicken at this admission of his affection. He cared for her, much more than as an acquaintance, and she rejoiced in the thought.

"Mr. Darcy, have you ever lost someone?" she asked.

Darcy turned away from her and glanced at Anne, who sat quietly in the corner. Elizabeth must be feeling as anxious about her own life as her sister had been, thought Darcy.

Elizabeth began to regret her question when she saw him turn away, but her distress faded when he began to speak.

"Yes, both my parents," Darcy said sadly. "My mother died when my sister, Georgiana, was born and my father passed away five years ago." He turned back to her and saw she had grown quite solemn.

"I am sorry, Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth, distressed at the possibility of having caused him pain. "Please, forgive me. I should not have spoken."

"No, no," he replied. "Have you, Miss Bennet," he continued, "have you lost anyone?"

"Yes," she said, "my father died three years ago."

At first Darcy did not seem to hear her and then looked intently into her eyes.

"I was ten when my mother died. I had been under the impression that she was a strong woman, but such is the impression of a child. I have learned since that she was actually ill rather often, though with what seemed like trifling colds. However, her lungs were affected, and she died shortly after Georgiana was born, her body weakened by the exertions. Georgiana never saw her."

Darcy glanced back at Elizabeth and saw her smile at him in a reassuring way. Her hands were clenched together in fists on her blanket. She rolled one hand over towards him and opened her fingers, as if she were inviting him to come near her.

"She was in bed much of the time before Georgiana was born. I would ask my father if I could see her, but he would say that she was too ill. I wondered if I had done something to anger her. I used to slide down the staircase on a blanket, and she would become so angry. Sometimes I would make a great deal of noise about the house and perhaps because of that she could not rest and get well. I thought, perhaps, I had caused her to remain ill."

Darcy pulled a chair up next to Elizabeth's bed.

"I was very glad when Georgiana was born, just so my mother would not be ill anymore and we could return to the way we were, but she did not come out of her room. The nurse let me hold Georgiana." Darcy smiled to himself when he remembered holding his little sister's tiny hands. "I was allowed to go to my mother only once. She asked me to climb up on the bed with her and lay down beside her, and then she took me in her arms and cried. She brushed my hair with her fingers, touched my face and held my hands. I have never felt so much love. I woke up the next morning in my own bed. My father told me that during the night she had grown feverish, and even though they tried everything to break the fever, it was to no avail. She had died."

He paused, then spoke unconsciously, "Elizabeth ... I..."

She started at his use of her Christian name. He realized his mistake. Recovering himself, he spoke again.

"Forgive me," he said, lowering his eyes. "I thought ... I was so afraid ... I thought you when you became feverish you were going to..." He could not continue.

She was quite affected by his sentiment. "Mr. Darcy..." She did not know what else to say.

With a deep exhalation, he went on with his tale. "Somehow I knew she was dying. I think a child almost always knows. After she died, I became very sullen and quiet, and would spend hours with Georgiana, holding her hands and talking to her. At first my father wanted to send Georgiana to be raised by my Aunt Catherine, but he knew he could not separate her from me, and he was unwilling to let me go."

Darcy felt all of the terror and the pain come back to him. "Instead, he left. He would be gone for months at a time. I would ask Mrs. Reynolds, the housekeeper, when he would return, and she would just nod her head and ask me if I wanted something to eat. I was convinced I had hurt my mother and had now driven Father away. I never used that staircase again. I would go through the whole house and come down by the back stairs. It seemed as if I were to use that staircase, it would be an insult to my mother."

"My father was not there when Georgiana began to walk or to talk. When he was home, he would sit in his study for hours. Mrs. Reynolds kept us to the nursery and schoolroom. The house was so silent and forlorn that it was as if my mother had died all over again. On occasion, when I was home from school on holiday, my father would ask for me and I would be brought by one of the servants to the drawing room. He would be sitting by the fire."

"'Come here, Fitzwilliam,' he would say. I would walk to him and he would have me sit beside him on the sofa and then we would silently stare into the fire. Sometimes I would fall asleep there. That is one of my few recollections of spending time with my father. I think Mrs. Reynolds was angry with him for neglecting me."

"Many years later, I was with my uncle, my mother's brother, when I received an express from my father's steward telling me that he had died. I returned home immediately. I spoke with everyone who had been in the house the day he died and the next. I learned that he had passed away in his sleep. He had suffered no pain."

Darcy became silent for a time and when he looked down at Miss Bennet, he realized that he was holding her hand. How had that happened? He made to withdraw his hand, but felt her tighten her grip on him. "Please go on, Mr. Darcy."

Why had he told her all of this? He scarcely spoke of his parents' death, and he had not spoken of it with Georgiana in years. There was such a feeling of relief in having told Elizabeth. Did the relief come in speaking of it after all this time, or in speaking of it to her?

A wave of sorrow flooded through him. "I so much regret having done anything to have hurt my parents."

Elizabeth took his hand in both of hers. "Mr. Darcy, as a woman, I am very sensitive to the perils of childbirth, but I cannot imagine the courage your mother must have had, for she must have known she would not live. It must have been horrible for your father to watch her die, knowing he was powerless to help her. She loved you very much. I know this just from your own words. And you must take comfort in knowing that your father loved your mother very much, so much so that a part of him was overwhelmed when she died."

"But Miss Bennet, why did he shun me?!" whispered Darcy. "Why did he stay away?!" This was the question that haunted him.

She had a tear in her eye when she answered him, a tear for his sake and hers. "His heart was broken by her loss, and you suffered for it." Elizabeth paused for a moment. "Were you ever able to be close to him?"

"No. He sent me off to the university and during the summers he toured alone. Georgiana stayed at home." Darcy paused to feel the warmth of her hand in his. Her skin was so soft. Had he touched her first or had she touched him? Right now he knew it did not matter. Their hands were joined. His heart, first dulled by the memory of his parents, now rejoiced in Elizabeth.

"Miss Bennet, please tell me about your father."

She felt her eyes begin to burn. She was willing to take his pain upon herself, but felt awkward sharing her own. "There is little to say, Mr. Darcy..."

"Miss Bennet," Darcy interrupted, "please." He smiled at Elizabeth in a reassuring way, and feeling at ease, she began.

"I was seventeen when my father died three years ago. I was always my father's favorite. When I was younger I would sit with him in the big chairs in his library. I felt dwarfed by their size. I would ramble on to him about my childhood affairs and he would read to me from the books that were his constant companions. I loved the attention and he learned to treat me as a friend, I suppose. As I became older, my habits never varied, except he would talk with me instead of read to me, or we would read together."

Elizabeth felt his fingertips caress her hand. His touch was so delicate. She felt her heart melting.

"My father had not been ill at all. We were sitting in the drawing room one evening when all of the sudden he slumped over on the sofa. He was sitting next to Jane and he fell into her lap. We were all horrified. Mama screamed for the servants and was immediately taken ill herself. Jane was crying and shaking his shoulders. I knelt next to him and listened for his breath. Thankfully, he was breathing. A servant was sent for Mr. Jones, the apothecary."

Darcy saw tears escaping her eyes as she spoke. He gripped her hand more tightly, sympathizing with her, understanding her, knowing what was eventually to come.

"He was a pitiful sight. He could not move his left arm. He could not walk. He could not even stand. He could not speak. I stayed with him that night and all the next day. Mama demanded that I leave him, but I would not. Mr. Jones came often but would not say whether my father would live or die. I fell asleep in the chair next to his bed, and he must have recovered somewhat during the night, because I heard his voice. 'Lizzy,' he said to me, 'I am sorry I did not take better care of you.' I told him that he had taken good care of me, that loving me had been enough, that his being my friend was all that I wanted. I told him I would give my life for him. He said, 'Lizzy, you must keep your life, but thank you for your love.'" Elizabeth choked on a sob. "And then he was gone."

Elizabeth withdrew her hand from his to wipe her eyes. Darcy immediately felt the loss of its warmth.

"My father loved me very much, Mr. Darcy. I miss him terribly. And like you," she said looking at him hopefully, "I have never felt such love and affection since. Jane is a great comfort to me, but I often feel so alone. At first I was angry with my father, wondering why he left me, but I soon realized that he would never leave me of his own accord, and that he was taken from me."

He offered her his hand. She placed hers in his. He brought it to his lips and kissed her fingers. Without releasing her hand, he stood, looking intently into her eyes. She met his gaze with such a look of longing that he could not but be touched. Never, not since the last night his mother was alive, had he wanted to love and be loved as he did now, as he wanted to be by Elizabeth.

Darcy released her hand.

"Miss Bennet, thank you for allowing me to talk about my parents. I rarely speak of them." He smiled down on her. She looked both beautiful and vulnerable. He grieved from the pain she felt regarding the passing of her father, and he would give anything to bring him back to her.

"Mr. Darcy," said Elizabeth, "I have never spoken to anyone about my father's death. I am both pained and pleased by the experience. I thank you for your kind attention..." she hesitated for a moment, "...and for comforting me." She would never forget the way she felt when he held her hand.

"I ... I think I should return to the others. Thank you for trusting me with your feelings."

As Darcy turned to leave, Elizabeth spoke. "Mr. Darcy, I hope you will visit me again soon. I know your parents now, but I feel I know so little about you."

She seemed to be pleading with him. How could he refuse anything she wanted? And she wanted to be with him. "I would like that very much, Miss Bennet. Goodbye."

He opened the door and left the room.

Elizabeth slid down in the bed and held her hands to her lips. "Goodbye, Mr. Darcy."

Chapter 5

Posted on Sunday, 13 June 2004

There was nothing pleasant about the carriage ride back to Longbourn as far as Jane was concerned, for she was forced to listen to the schemes her mother had for her.

"Jane, I am so excited for you. The assembly is Friday night and Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy will be there," said a joyous Mrs. Bennet. She had great hopes for the gentlemen of Netherfield.

"Mama, I am not going to the assembly," Jane informed her mother.

"Yes, you are!"

"Mama, no. I am going to spend the evening with Lizzy," Jane said resolutely. She had steeled herself for the dispute that must follow such a declaration.

"Nonsense, you will go the assembly and dance with the gentlemen and make them fall in love with you. You cannot be so pretty for nothing," Mrs. Bennet's voice took on a commanding tone, "and I will not have you waste it on Lizzy. She is just fine where she is."

"It is not right that Lizzy should be so often alone, Mama, and especially on an evening when everyone will be enjoying themselves at the ball. Mr. Manning says she cannot be moved, and so I must be allowed to go to her," pleaded Jane. She was sitting on the same bench as her mother and unconsciously moved away from her.

"You will go to the assembly. Send Mary to be with Lizzy. She never dances, you know, and it will be no loss to her to miss it."

Mrs. Bennet was resolved. She could not understand why Jane was being so stubborn. How else could she secure Mr. Bingley or Mr. Darcy unless she was dancing with them at the assembly?

"I will stay with Lizzy, Jane," said Mary. "She need not spend the evening alone."

Mary never enjoyed the assemblies. She felt plain compared to her sisters and was rarely asked to dance.

The balance of the ride to Longbourn passed in silence. Mrs. Bennet's frustration with Jane was growing, Mary's gratitude was increasing as she realized she was free of the assembly, and Jane's embarrassment warmed her cheeks as she reflected on the way her mother was throwing her daughters at the gentlemen of Netherfield.

Netherfield, in Hertfordshire, near Meryton

Dear Georgiana,

I write to inform you as to the goings-on here at Netherfield. Bingley and his sisters are well settled and quite comfortable. It is a handsome home that I know you would like very much. The countryside is beautiful and I find occasion for riding and walking out. There is a nice little stream not too far from the house.

I have met a young woman named Miss Elizabeth Bennet and she is like no lady I have ever known. She is staying at Netherfield with us recovering from an injury that involved a very worrying bump on the head she acquired when she fell over a tree root on a path near Netherfield. Bingley and I brought her here, unconscious and not moving. You can imagine the anxiety we have suffered on her behalf. She is the daughter of a gentleman in the neighborhood. She is awake now, and she and I have become good friends. She is to remain here for another week until she makes a full recovery. I confess I wish that time could be extended.

She is everything that is kind, compassionate and lovely. I know you would like her very much and I am certain that she would like you. We share many interests and I find there to be no greater happiness than being with her.

We have exchanged many confidences and have spoken of our parents' deaths. I feel such great relief in having had a chance to talk to her about a matter that has grieved me for so long a time, and I want to apologize to you for not allowing you the same opportunity. I have found that though the pain may be buried, it never goes away. She makes me want to be a better person, and I am committed to becoming a more caring and loving brother to you.

Please let me hear from you soon. I hope you are well.

Affectionately, your brother,

Fitzwilliam

The night of the assembly finally arrived. Jane had dressed with care knowing that she would certainly encounter Mr. Bingley there. She anticipated with pleasure talking and dancing with him, though that pleasure was allayed somewhat by the absence of her dearest sister. She took comfort in knowing that Mary was with Elizabeth and she resolved to enjoy herself as much as possible.

As she entered the assembly room, her pulse quickened as she saw Mr. Bingley approach her from the far side of the hall. He was a very handsome man who walked with purpose and confidence. She saw his blue eyes sparkling with good humor as he moved across the room to where she was standing. This was the moment for which she had been waiting, the moment when he would come and speak to her.

"Miss Bennet, I am so happy to see you again," he said. His voice caused ripples of happiness to flow through her body and she moved to stand a little closer to him.

"The pleasure is mine, sir." If only she could express to him how happy she truly was. She hoped the day would soon come when she could.

"Miss Bennet," said Bingley, "it is so agreeable to be settled in Hertfordshire. Everyone is so kind and friendly. I would not wish to be anywhere else."

Bingley was enchanted. Jane was the loveliest creature he had beheld. He marveled at his good fortune in choosing Netherfield as his home. If he were allowed to hope, he would choose it as her home as well.

"We ... I ... am glad you are here, sir," Jane stammered. "I hope that means you will be spending a good deal of time with us." Mr. Bingley was kind and compassionate with a pleasing disposition. He seemed to agree with her on every point. She would never forget that moment in his arms. This thought caused her to unconsciously move still closer to him, to be nearer those arms that she craved would hold her again.

"Do you often hold these assemblies?" he asked. She was made comfortable by his ease and friendliness and was not nervous or anxious around him. In fact, it was quite the opposite, for he made her feel wanted and beautiful.

"Yes, about every four weeks, depending on the season. It is a pleasure to gather with one's friends to dance and talk. This is the only occasion I have for seeing some of them," she said, "as I am not a great walker like Lizzy."

The expression on his face as he spoke to her gave her reason to hope for his affection; every word, every phrase, spoke of a heart that was giving itself to her.

Looking deep in her eyes, hopeful of the answer he would see there, he said, "I hope you count me as one of your friends, Miss Bennet."

A smile lit up her face. Here was an unexpected opportunity to tell him a little of what was in her heart.

"Oh, how could I not, Mr. Bingley? Indeed sir," she said shyly, "although we have only known each other for a short time, I count you as my best friend."

She lowered her eyes, fearing that she had said too much.

Bingley's heart leapt for joy. Her statement, though plainly expressed, was to him an open avowal of the affection she held for him. Though he had suspected that he was growing in her esteem, she had never said or done anything to positively confirm this hope. Now she had.

Jane looked up at him, met his eyes and smiled. Mr. Bingley was a handsome man, but what meant more to her than his personal attributes was the impression he had made on her heart and mind. He was open and honest. He was making no effort to hide his feelings from her, and in turn she did not hide hers from him.

Jane was acquainted with many of the young men that lived in the neighborhood surrounding Meryton, but she had never felt herself attracted to any of them. And while she had thoroughly canvassed the subject of love with Elizabeth during their late night talks, it has always been from an abstract perspective.

But this was real. She could feel Mr. Bingley's words in her heart, could sense his affection when his eyes rested on her and positively knew that giving her heart to him was what she desired above anything.

"You cannot imagine how happy that makes me to know that I am your friend. I want you to know, Miss Bennet, that there is no one I would rather be with than you. You mean so much to me. I ... I wish I could say all I felt."

She looked around her at the others at the assembly, but could not see anyone who appeared as happy as she. Mr. Bingley loved her and her joy was full.

Bingley was fascinated by Miss Bennet's eyes, and was mildly embarrassed when she caught him staring at her. He had lost himself in her eyes. In them he saw love, happiness and every good thing he desired for his future ... and hers. It was humbling to be admired by such a woman as Miss Bennet.

"How is Miss Elizabeth feeling?" asked Mr. Bingley gently, unwilling to break the spell of tenderness between them. "I am sorry that she could not be here."

"Thank you. I am disappointed as well, for she loves to dance," said Jane. "She is growing stronger each day and is anticipating with pleasure returning to her regular activities."

"When we came across her on the path," said Bingley, "Darcy insisted that he remain with her. He carried her to her bedchamber when we arrived back at Netherfield and is most solicitous of her comfort. As you know, he spends a great deal of time with her each day."

Bingley did not know if he was violating a confidence, for he and Darcy had seldom spoken of Miss Elizabeth. He had just observed his friend's behavior. Darcy had changed since Miss Elizabeth had come to Netherfield. He had grown kinder and more personable. He must be falling in love with her, for there could be no other explanation.

"I am glad to hear it," she said. "I dread the thought of her spending so much time alone."

"She is not alone very often, Miss Bennet," said Bingley, "for Darcy is with her every moment he can when he's not out riding, shooting with me or attending to my sister, Caroline."

Jane was struck by a disturbing thought. She had forgotten about Miss Bingley, the rich and beautiful Miss Bingley who had made it plain that the Bennets were nothing. It appeared to Jane that Miss Bingley and Mr. Darcy were a natural match. Her beauty and fortune would grace his distinguished family. And what was Elizabeth? A poor, country girl. What was Mr. Darcy about? Surely he would not be toying with Elizabeth's affection, would he?

Jane recollected herself, though the chill that this thought inspired did not leave her.

"I would be with Elizabeth more often, but I am uncomfortable leaving the estate. I do not have a steward," Jane said. "There is no one on whom I can rely to see to the matters of the estate." This point had proven to be a trial of her patience of late, as it kept her from spending more time with Elizabeth.

"You have my admiration and respect, Miss Bennet. I could never manage an estate alone." Jane blushed at his compliment.

"I am trying to set aside money so that my sisters will have at least small dowries. As of now, all the income is tied up in the estate. I feel responsible for them and sometimes I fear for their future." She lowered her eyes.

"But you have Longbourn." Bingley answered his own question regarding her future.

"Mama would like me to sell it, but it was my dear father's wish that it be kept. It is our home."

She would never be persuaded to give up Longbourn, and this is why her father had left it to her, because her mother would have sold it. The money would have been spent, and poverty would have followed.

"Of course. If I had an estate of my own, I would never wish to sell it. I only have a lease on Netherfield, for Darcy persuaded me that I must live there a full year before I purchase, in the event that something does not quite agree with me. My father waited his entire life, I can wait another year," said Bingley. He would not have thought of taking such a precaution himself, but recognized that it was good judgment.

"Mr. Darcy's advice sounds very wise. Has he been your friend long?" she asked. She was curious as to the nature of the relationship between the two gentlemen. Darcy appeared to be older than Bingley and they had such differing personalities.

"I have known him since I was at school," said Bingley. "We were introduced by chance. I happened to be walking between buildings when I came upon Darcy and his father. They had become lost while seeking out the chaplain and I gave them directions. Soon after this, Darcy and I became close friends and have remained so over the years. We spend part of each year together, and he is now assisting me in getting settled at Netherfield."

"I have always thought that being sent off to school would be a lonely proposition," she said. "I have always had my sisters with me. I am pleased you were able to find a friend."

"And I am pleased to have found a new friend in you, Miss Bennet." He hoped he had not said too much, but he wanted there to be no misunderstanding as to his regard for her.

She made no reply, but was pleased with the thought.

"Miss Bennet, would you do me the honor of dancing with me?"

"I would be delighted, Mr. Bingley," she answered. He took her hand and they walked off together to join the set that was just forming.

Mary was sitting in what Elizabeth considered to be Mr. Darcy's chair, reading notes to her from a recent book. Elizabeth was attempting to be patient and attentive. After a particularly trying speech, Mary began to express an opinion that Elizabeth did not share.

"Lizzy, I much prefer being here with you than at that dreadful assembly," she said, still grateful to her mother for suggesting that she spend the evening with her sister.

"I would prefer to be with you at the assembly," laughed Elizabeth. In a more serious tone, she added, "But Mary, why do you not like them?"

Mary set aside her book and smoothed her skirt. "I am never asked to dance."

Elizabeth was thoughtful for a moment, only then understanding the pain Mary might feel at being ignored for an entire evening.

"Perhaps if you were to converse more and not bring a book with you to read, young men would not be afraid of you." Elizabeth was grateful for the chance to share her observations with Mary, for she knew that Mary attended the assemblies only out of obligation to their mother.

"Young men afraid of me?" repeated Mary. This was a new thought!

"I think that gentlemen are sometimes nervous when they approach a young woman, such as yourself, who sits alone in the corner. They need help. Smiling and talking with other young women causes you to appear more amiable," suggested Elizabeth. It was true. Mary made herself appear unapproachable at any type of gathering.

"I have difficulty in speaking to strangers. I stutter and feel awkward. I am not handsome like you and Jane. Why would anyone want to talk to me?" It was a painful confession of the inadequacy that she felt, but it was honest and true.

"Oh, Mary! I suppose that just like the pianoforte, as you practice you will become more comfortable with it. And you are not awkward. You are intelligent and good-natured. These things are more important than beauty."

"That is easy for you to say, being beautiful yourself." Elizabeth blushed. "Lizzy, do you think someday there will be a young man who will love me?" asked Mary.

"I do," smiled Elizabeth. "I know there will."

Despite Jane's pleasing and accommodating disposition and a desire to see the good in everything and everyone, she was a woman of strength who took her role as the head of her family very seriously. And it was in that capacity that she found herself uncomfortable with the unprecedented access Mr. Darcy had to Elizabeth.

Perhaps she was reading more into his comments than they deserved, but Jane could not help but think that Mr. Bingley would not have mentioned the circumstances surrounding Mr. Darcy's rescue of Elizabeth unless there was more to Mr. Darcy's attentions than he had suggested.

Mr. Darcy was a very fine man with a large estate who had lived and traveled much in the world. He had no need of a country girl like Elizabeth, and Jane was persuaded that should Elizabeth form an attachment to him, it would only lead to heartache and pain for her. She felt it incumbent upon herself to let Mr. Darcy know that Elizabeth was neither friendless nor unprotected.

Circling the room in search of Mr. Darcy, she came upon him standing alone watching the dance.

"Good evening, Mr. Darcy," she said as she walked up to him.

He bowed to her. "Good evening, Miss Bennet. You look lovely tonight."

"Thank you," she said with a curtsy. "Are you enjoying yourself, sir?"

"Yes, I am," he replied. "And you?"

"I am happy to be here. I take pleasure in dancing and in conversing with my friends and neighbors," she said.

For a moment, there was silence between them.

Darcy was quiet as he looked at Jane. If he were to be honest in his observations, he would have to confess that Miss Bennet was a prettier woman than her sister, but as he was quite partial to Miss Elizabeth, it was a concession he did not feel obliged to make.

Jane eyed him closely, then continued. "Mr. Bingley has told me about your attentions to my sister. It is a relief to me to know that she is in a place where she is being watched over by people who care for her."

Darcy paused for a moment, then looked away as if embarrassed. Jane felt that the source of that confusion must be her sister.

"I do care for her, Miss Bennet," he said.

Jane was not at all comfortable with this assertion.

"That she is increasing in health each day brings me great pleasure," he continued, "though being selfish, I must admit that I am grateful to have her at Netherfield where I can enjoy her company." From the expression on Miss Bennet's face, he could tell that she was not pleased to hear this and he wished his comment unsaid the moment he voiced it.

She would have preferred that he enjoyed her company with less enthusiasm.

"Of what do you speak when you are with her, if I may ask?" The answer to this question may reveal the extent of Elizabeth's feelings for him.

"Most recently of our families," said Darcy. "My parents have passed away, as has your father. We shared our experiences." He began to realize that this was no longer a conversation, but an interview.

"Elizabeth rarely speaks of my father's passing, even to me. I hope the conversation was not too painful for either of you," said Jane. She found it remarkable that Elizabeth would have shared her feelings about their father's death with Mr. Darcy, a man whom she barely knew. He must have thoroughly insinuated himself into her confidence.

"She is a strong young woman, Miss Bennet," Darcy observed. "She is a credit to the upbringing of her parents and the love of her sisters. I know that she feels particularly close to you. You should be proud of her."

"I am," replied Jane. "Mr. Darcy, you described her as strong. Despite her outward appearance of strength, I feel that she has a tender heart and a large capacity for love." Elizabeth was the most caring, gentle person she knew. She was also naïve and innocent, the perfect combination for suffering heartbreak.

"And those that she loves have every reason to be happy," Darcy concluded.

"Yes, they do." Jane continued. "Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth has never fancied herself in love before. She is unschooled in the relationships between men and women, and anyone who seeks to win her affection would be wise to remember that."

Darcy looked uncomfortable but said nothing.

"I trust that is something you will remember, Mr. Darcy," concluded Jane. She hoped she had said enough. Mr. Darcy was an intelligent man. He should be quite aware by now that Jane was suspicious of his motives.

Darcy looked at her for a moment and then nodded, acknowledging that he understood her warning. "I will, Miss Bennet." He bowed to her, then walked away.

Jane, not completely satisfied with their conversation, watched him go with a feeling of growing uncertainty.

Elizabeth awoke the next morning well rested and happy. She had spent a pleasant evening with Mary renewing their relationship and she was glad of it. They had promised that they would spend more time with each other in future, and Elizabeth anticipated their meetings with pleasure.

Contributing to Elizabeth's joy that morning was the fact that she was expecting visits from both Jane and Mr. Darcy, the two people she most wished to see. Just at that moment, one of them had knocked on the door. The knock was not the firm, quick one she associated with Mr. Darcy. Therefore, Elizabeth concluded, it must be Jane.

"Come in," said Elizabeth cheerfully. She sat up and adjusted her pillow.

Jane entered the room and walked over to give Elizabeth a kiss.

"Lizzy, good morning!" said Jane enthusiastically. She was very glad to be with Elizabeth, and seeing her in health removed some of Jane's discomfort about not spending the evening with her the night before.

"Oh, Jane, good morning to you!"

"How do you feel?" asked Jane. "You look very well." She removed her bonnet and gloves and sat in the chair next to the bed.

"I am very well. Thank you for coming," said Elizabeth. She was truly grateful for Jane's visit. She had to confess that spending time alone in that room was tedious, though she knew it could not be helped. She lived for visits from her family and, of course, from Mr. Darcy.

"There is no place I would rather be, my dear sister," said Jane affectionately. "How was your evening with Mary?" Jane had taken Elizabeth's hand, and for just a moment, the latter was reminded of the time when somebody else had sat in that chair holding her hand.

"Oh, Jane, I have so misjudged her character. She is such a good person and has such a gentle heart," said Elizabeth. "I fear I have never treated her as well as she deserves."

She felt she had underestimated Mary's intellect and sweet soul. Though Mary could be pedantic and tiresome at times, her behavior was a philosophic effort to make herself known to others. Regretfully, her behavior could only be interpreted as prideful and would, therefore, repel the very people she was hoping to attract.

Elizabeth was resolved to improve her relationships with all her family. Though she could not approve of her two youngest sister's wild behavior, they did have many good qualities that deserved her respect and they could only benefit from an increase of attention on her part.

"Mary has changed since your accident," said Jane. "She is kinder, more attentive to everyone and a pleasure to be around. She was very afraid for you, Lizzy, as we all were. I am pleased to know that you two are growing closer together. We all need each other very much."

Elizabeth could not agree more. Her whole family had become even more important to her since her accident.

"Tell me about your evening, Jane. Did you dance with Mr. Bingley?" asked Elizabeth with a teasing smile. "You must tell me all about it!"

"I did," said Jane with a blush, which told Elizabeth all she needed to know. "He is such a wonderful man. If you had to be anywhere but at home, Lizzy, I am glad you are under his care and protection. He dances so gracefully, has pleasing manners and always has something kind to say to everyone he meets."

"Tell me more!" said Elizabeth enthusiastically.

"I shivered when he took my hand and led me to the dance. Oh, Lizzy, the way he looked at me when we were standing across from each other! It was thrilling to spend even those brief moments in his arms as we went down the dance. I did not want him to let me go."

"Please, Jane, continue."

"He speaks so well. It is not just that he is intelligent, but the sound of his voice seemed to penetrate through my whole body. I felt as if I were a part of him. We spent as much time together as we could. Indeed, I had no interest in anyone else."

"Do you love him?" asked Elizabeth eagerly. She was certain she already knew the answer. Jane had never spoken of anyone in such terms. Well, Mr. Bingley was a fortunate man if he was able to obtain Jane's affection.

"Yes," confessed Jane, "I do love Mr. Bingley."

"Jane!" cried Elizabeth. "I am so happy for you, though I must confess I am not surprised. The look you have on your face every time you speak of him betrays the feelings you have for him. I completely approve your choice! He is a good man, Jane!"

Elizabeth marveled at the beauty of her sister and the added luminance of her countenance whenever she spoke of Mr. Bingley.

After a pause, Jane continued, "And we spoke of your friend."

"My friend?" asked a puzzled Elizabeth, whose confusion dispelled when she realized who the friend in question must be. Her face lit up with a smile.

Jane laughed. "Please tell me about Mr. Darcy."

"You are quite right. We have become good friends, Jane," said Elizabeth with a conscious smile. "He comes to visit me throughout the day and we talk and laugh together. I find him to be quite a handsome man, full of good humor and serious thought," Elizabeth said with a sigh. Looking up at Jane, whose face held a somber expression, she added, "You are not angry with me, are you?"

"I could never be angry with you, Lizzy. I do not want to see you get hurt, that is all." Jane smiled at Elizabeth, then reassured her. "Mr. Bingley has nothing but the highest regard for Mr. Darcy." Jane paused for a moment. "We spoke of you last night, Mr. Darcy and I."

"What did you say?"

"I can tell that he likes you very much. I know it is inappropriate for me to tell you that, but since I know, I want you to know," confided Jane.

"I know that he likes me. Do you think it could ever be more?" asked Elizabeth hopefully.

"You deserve to be happy, Lizzy, and I think he could make you so. I just do not want you to raise your expectations and be hurt, that is all."

"Why do you think I will be hurt?" asked Elizabeth.

"It is just that he is so wealthy and comes from an important, established family, and we..." Jane's voice trailed off.

"I know, Jane, but nothing like that seems to be important when we are together."

The young ladies were interrupted by a knock at the door. Jane looked to Elizabeth, who shared a knowing glance with her.

"Come in, please," said Elizabeth. Jane noticed immediately that she had become very animated.

Darcy came in the room. "Oh, forgive me," he said on seeing Miss Bennet. "I did not mean to interrupt. Please excuse me." He began to step back out of the room.

"Mr. Darcy," called Jane, "you are very welcome to stay." Jane could not help but notice how Lizzy's face lit up when he entered. She decided that it was a little too late to be warning Lizzy not to fall in love with Mr. Darcy.

"Thank you, Miss Bennet," he said as he walked back into the room. Turning to Elizabeth, he sad, "Good morning, Miss Elizabeth."

"Good morning, sir," replied Elizabeth with a smile.

"I was just telling my sister," Jane went on, "about the pleasant evening we enjoyed at the assembly last night."

Darcy looked pleased. "Yes," he said, "it was a wonderful gathering. Meryton seems filled with kind, friendly people."

"Did you dance much, Mr. Darcy?" asked Elizabeth. She wrinkled her brow as a feeling of jealousy passed through her heart at the thought of Mr. Darcy dancing with anyone but herself. More cheerfully, she added, "I venture to say that you must be an excellent dancer."

"Do you think so, Miss Elizabeth? I cannot say. You will have to decide for yourself at the next ball," he laughed. "In answer to your question, I danced with three of your sisters, with Miss Lucas and with Miss Mariah Lucas. They are all very pleasing young women. I was sorry you were not able to attend. Do you enjoy dancing, Miss Elizabeth?" he asked.

Jane noticed that he had drifted forward until he was leaning against the bedpost. He seemed genuinely fond of Lizzy, and she hoped that her impression of him was wrong. If his intentions were not honorable, it was within his power to hurt Elizabeth very much, and Elizabeth did not seem to want to guard herself against the possibility.

"Oh, yes, very much. I enjoy moving up and down the set with the music. There is such a feeling of freedom in it for me, like the wind blowing through my hair when I walk in the evening breeze." Elizabeth smiled shyly. "And particularly when I have a pleasing partner," she added.

Jane cleared her throat and stood. "Well, I think I should be going. Lizzy, I will give your love to our family." Jane gave Elizabeth a kiss, and then with a glance at Mr. Darcy, she said, "And, Lizzy, promise me that you will rest."

"I will," said Elizabeth. "You will come again tomorrow, will you not? I would very much like that. I would enjoy finishing our conversation."

"As would I, Lizzy," Jane grinned. "Good day, Mr. Darcy."

"Let me see you out, Miss Bennet," said Darcy. Fortunately for Darcy, Anne chose that moment to return into Elizabeth's chamber, bringing with her a book. Jane stepped back so Anne could seat herself on the other side of the room.

"I thank you, Mr. Darcy, but, no, please keep Lizzy company." After smiling on her sister, she left the room to search for Mr. Bingley and bid him good day.

When Jane had closed the door and Anne's attention was called away by her book, Darcy sat down in the chair next to Elizabeth's bed that Jane had vacated and made an observation regarding her sister.

"Your sister loves you very much, Miss Bennet," commented Darcy. He had observed their interactions together on several occasions, and the affection the sisters felt for each other was apparent in the sparkle in their eyes when they spoke to each other, the gentle words they used and Miss Bennet's constant attention to Elizabeth. It was a pleasure to behold, and he resolved in his heart to be a better brother to Georgiana.

"What shall we talk about today, Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth asked in a playful manner.

He chose to answer her with his own question. "What think you of books?"

"My father had a good library, and we were always encouraged to read, therefore I have read histories and poetry, letters and prose. I find that I enjoy Shakespeare's dramatic plays to any other," she said thoughtfully.

"Which is your favorite?

"I know it may not be proper for a lady of genteel breeding to say so, but my favorite is Hamlet." She favored him with a teasing smile, daring him to rebuke her taste.

"I had not expected that you would like such a dark play. Pray, which part do you like the most?"

Darcy was impressed with Elizabeth's beauty, her behavior amongst her loved ones and her generosity and compassion for himself. Now he would have to add intelligence to that list of virtues. He was in great danger of being thoroughly and completely in love with her. Could he marry her despite family and social demands that found her to be wanting in those aspects of status and fortune that would be expected of the woman who would become the mistress of Pemberley?

"I do not have a particular part I like more than others, but I am drawn to think about the nature of Hamlet and Ophelia's relationship. Hamlet was prevented from marrying her because he was expected to marry a woman that would provide an increase to the kingdom because of her place in her own society, or would promote the cause of peace between two countries betwixt whom some tension existed."

Darcy did not at all like the turn of this conversation, but he could not escape from her now.

"But are not those good reasons to marry?" he asked. He was uncomfortable with the fact that Hamlet's motives and his own appeared to be similar, and he expected that in her next sentence Elizabeth would condemn them.

"I do not think so. Ophelia was a good woman who genuinely loved Hamlet for himself. She was not interested in being queen someday and she cared not for the riches and prestige such a marriage would provide her. All she wanted was Hamlet," said Elizabeth. "And because he was weak, and would not stand up against a man, his uncle, whom he already knew was evil, he broke her heart. She died because of it and he spent the rest of his short life being miserable. Had he married her, none of the other problems in the story would have happened. While it would have made for a less interesting play, certainly Hamlet would have enjoyed great benefits from being loved by such a woman as Ophelia."

"I had never considered Hamlet from that point of view before. Tell me, Miss Bennet, why will you marry?" he asked, unable to resist knowing the reasons she would give him, reasons that would be relevant to himself, if it were ever possible...

She bowed her head and did not look at him when she answered. "Mr. Darcy, I will only marry for reasons of the deepest love and affection."

Jane left Elizabeth's bedchamber, descended the stairs into the hall and was walking towards the entryway when she heard his voice. She could not help but smile and her face lit up and her heart skipped a beat when Mr. Bingley drew near her.

"Miss Bennet, have you been visiting your sister?" inquired Mr. Bingley. He colored when he realized how silly his question had been. Of course she had been visiting her sister. He sighed inwardly.

"Yes, Mr. Bingley, I was," she said. "Mr. Darcy joined us."

"I am not surprised at that. I know he was intending to go to her this morning." He hesitated, then glanced at her with a questioning look. "Will you join me for tea?"

Jane had not anticipated this. She had just been hoping for a few words with him. "I would be grateful, sir."

Bingley ushered her into the drawing room and sent a servant for tea. After they were seated, Miss Bennet emptied her heart of the burden of gratitude that she felt for Mr. Bingley.

"Sir, let me thank you again and again for caring for Elizabeth. Because of your kind attentions and solicitude, she will soon be in full health and able to return home," said Jane.

Jane attributed Mr. Bingley's kindness with having preserved Elizabeth. Certainly Mr. Darcy had done much, but she felt she owed it all to Mr. Bingley.

"I am filled with gratitude, Mr. Bingley," said Jane, "and only wish there was something I could do for you in return. I wish I could express to you all the gratitude I feel. You are everything to us ... and to me."

He looked at her intently for a moment in silence, as if deep in thought. Little did she know he was rallying his courage. After taking a sip of his tea, he answered her.

"Well, there is something that you can do, Miss Bennet." He smiled.

"Oh, please tell me," she said eagerly.

"You said I am everything to you..." His voice trailed off.

Jane waited a moment, but he did not continue.

"That is true, sir," she said

"Well..."

"Yes?"

"I want you to be everything to me."

The tender expression on his face and the barely audible whisper spoke of love, and her heart leapt for joy at this acknowledgement of his attachment to her.

"I will," she whispered.

Jane lost all notice of time and before she knew it, had been with him over an hour. She felt an intimacy and completeness with him and by the time she left Netherfield could think of nothing else.

Chapter 6

Posted on Sunday, 20 June 2004

Darcy contemplated with excitement the prospect of being with Elizabeth again that afternoon, and at last, unable to contain himself, went up to her bedchamber. She bade him enter with a happy voice and he once again enjoyed a welcoming smile from Anne.

Darcy moved to the chair next to her bed at her invitation and once they had completed the usual salutations, Elizabeth inquired, "Mr. Darcy, please tell me about your home."

"I share my time between my townhouse in London and Pemberley, my estate in Derbyshire, which is near a little market town called Lambton." Darcy saw a look of recognition on her face. "Do you know it?" he asked.

"My aunt is from Lambton and has told me all about the place. She has nothing but the fondest memories of her life there. Is Pemberley a beautiful home?"

Elizabeth moved herself beneath the bedclothes so that she was as near Darcy as she dared. This did not go unnoticed by the gentleman. He sat on the edge of his chair and leaned towards her as he spoke.

"It is, and I am certain that someone who enjoys being out of doors as much as you, Miss Elizabeth, could spend hours wandering the grounds of Pemberley. There is a stream and a small lake next to the house, and verdant woods surrounding the whole place. It is peaceful there and is a refuge for me from the cares of the world."

Images of a beautiful house and delightful grounds filled Elizabeth's mind as she contemplated what it must be like there and how she would feel exploring new places, and perhaps, doing so with him.

"And do you live there quite alone?" she asked.

"My sister is there in the summer months, but spends most of her time in London where she can enjoy the benefit of masters," said Darcy.

Elizabeth could not help but notice the proud look in his eye. He must care very deeply for his sister. What a fortunate young woman she was.

"She must be quite accomplished," said Elizabeth. She wondered at how the lives of her sisters and herself would have been changed if they had such a loving, caring brother in their family. It was easy to feel envious of Miss Darcy until she recollected that her interest in him was not fraternal, but something entirely different.

"I am very proud of her," he said with a gleam in his eye, "but she is shy, and has been since the death of our father."

"It must be difficult for you to be responsible for the education and development of a young woman at her delicate time of life," said Elizabeth. She knew her own family had suffered from the loss of their father, and as a result, her two youngest sisters were quite unmanageable.

"I can only do my best and fortunately, Georgiana is patient with me. I fear that sometimes I overpower her, though, for she is quiet and will not always express her thoughts. I often feel she is trying to live up to expectations she feels I have for her, but she is everything I could want in a sister."

"Well, I am certain she loves you very much, Mr. Darcy." And she added silently, 'for who could not?'

"And is London, then, your primary residence?" she asked.

Elizabeth realized all the impertinence of her question, but her mind and heart sought for knowledge of Mr. Darcy for which her good manners could not answer.

"I consider Pemberley to be my home and when I settle down, it will be the place to which I shall bring my wife." He nervously cleared his throat.

She hesitated for a moment when he spoke of a future wife. Was that meant for her benefit? Did he know the desires of her heart?

"Do you not go to London for the season and all its gaieties?" she asked.

"When I am required to attend..."

"Required?" she interrupted.

"Required," he smiled. "I feel as though I am on display for all the mothers who are seeking a good match for their daughters. It appears that my only attraction is wealth and a good name." Darcy exhaled and stared at the floor. "I wish..."

There was a pause, and after each moment Elizabeth was expecting that he would finish his thought. Realizing that he was not going to continue speaking, but unwilling to let the subject drop, she made an inquiry.

"Mr. Darcy, for what do you wish?" She boldly reached out her hand to him and felt his fingers surround hers. She experienced the same closeness with him as she had the day they had spoken of their parents and was grateful for the intimacy of his touch.

Darcy marveled at the softness of her skin and was pleased that she would make such an overture of affection.

"For what do I wish?" he repeated. Looking up, he met her gaze. "The unexpected."

During the silence that ensued Elizabeth reflected on what he just told her. He was caressing her fingers and it took a moment for her to gather her thoughts.

"The unexpected," she repeated, drowning in his intense gaze. "Is it really that unexpected that you could be loved for who you are, rather than what you own and where you live?" It was more of a statement than a question.

Darcy knew he must go. He knew he could not spend another moment with her now or he would blurt out a proposal of marriage, one that he felt would be disastrous. It violated the principles by which his father had raised him and would go against the expectations of his family.

He slowly bent his head and raised her hand to his lips and gently kissed her fingers.

"You are too good," he told her. And then he stood up slowly and left the room.

Elizabeth was nearly overwhelmed with emotion as she watched Darcy leave. The touch of his hand, the gentleness in his voice and the meaning of his words all spoke of affection for her. It was sad to her that he believed that finding a woman that would love him was unexpected. She wished that she would be his choice. She knew she could be that woman, the one who would love him for who he was and for no other reason. It would be easy for her. She already did.

Noticing her silence and the far away look in her eye, Anne chose to remain quiet. She had observed their interactions in an appropriately discreet manner, and it was clear to her that Mr. Darcy loved Miss Bennet very much. She wondered how long it would be before he would recognize that fact.

Having submitted patiently to all of Mr. Manning's recommendations for bed rest, Elizabeth found herself anxious to be outside again. Knowing that the gentlemen were away, she resolved on leaving the house for a short time.

Her maid was shocked when Elizabeth announced her intentions.

"Miss Bennet, please do not!" cried Anne in a fright. "Your head! Mr. Manning's instructions! Think of your health! Please, Miss!"

"Nothing will be more healthful to me than fresh air and exercise," declared Elizabeth resolutely. "I shall be gone for only a short while. You must help me, Anne," pleaded Elizabeth. She arose from the bed and moved as if to dress herself.

"What if something were to happen to you? Please, let me bring you some tea, or a glass of wine, or a book, but, please, do not go out," urged Anne, trying to think of anything that would persuade her charge to remain abed.

"Anne, you have been such a help and a comfort to me, and I do not want you to distress yourself on my behalf, but I must go out," said Elizabeth. She could not remain indoors another minute. She had no complaints about Netherfield or the way in which she was being treated. Indeed, she was all gratitude, but only inclement weather could keep her indoors, and it was so pleasant outside that she knew she must enjoy it, if only for a few minutes.

"Do you insist on this, Miss Bennet?" asked Anne, in great consternation.

"I do, Anne. Please..."

Surrendering to Elizabeth, though against her own better judgment, she said, "Very well, but do not stay away for long, I beg you."

Anne assisted Elizabeth in dressing and walked with her down the stairs and to the door.

"Where will you go? How shall I find you if you become ill?" Anne's apprehension was growing.

"Oh, Anne," laughed Elizabeth, "I am certain I will not be ill."

Elizabeth said all she could to reassure Anne, but Anne's fears were not quieted by her assurances.

Having said all she could, Elizabeth stepped out onto the porch and looked around her. The woods to the north seemed inviting, so she told Anne that she would walk for a little while in that direction.

"I will return in no time at all, Anne. Thank you. Thank you very much," said Elizabeth as she ran down the stairs.

Oh, she had been inside far too long, thought Elizabeth. The feel of a warm breeze and the sounds of birds in the trees strengthened and refreshed her. She felt animated and rejuvenated as she walked through the woods around the house. Recalling a place a short distance away where she knew a stream to be located, she steered her path towards it.

The water had never looked more clear and inviting than it did just then. Sitting on a rock, Elizabeth put her hand in the stream, letting the water pass through her fingers, rejoicing in the sensation. She lost herself in the pleasure of being outdoors, unconscious of the passing of time. Quite inattentive to everything around her, she did not notice the approach of a gentleman.

Anne could not let Miss Bennet leave the house without feelings of misgiving and regret, and nervously paced back and forth in the entryway listening for her return. After not too long a time, she heard footsteps approaching and thought, with no small relief, that Miss Bennet had returned, but it was Mr. Darcy entering the house.

"Mr. Darcy!" she exclaimed. She had not been expecting anyone but Miss Bennet.

"Good afternoon, Anne." Darcy noticed immediately that something was wrong. Anne appeared to be fretful and uncommonly pale.

"Sir..." she began.

Darcy interrupted her. "What is the matter?" He recalled that Anne spent nearly all her time with Elizabeth.

Shaken, he asked, "Where is Miss Bennet?" He cringed when he spoke her name, fearful that she had taken ill once again. Anne's manner was clearly agitated and alarming.

"Miss Bennet has left the house to walk about the grounds. I tried to dissuade her, Mr. Darcy, but she would not listen. She has been gone these ten minutes at least." Anne could not restrain her tears.

Firmly, he asked, "Do you know where she went? Did she say where she might go?"

Anne quieted herself, knowing that her crying would do Miss Bennet no good at all.

"She said she was going to walk into the woods to the north. I am sorry, Mr. Darcy, for allowing it, but she would not be prevented from going."

"We do not want to give Mr. Bingley any cause for alarm. Please wait in Miss Bennet's room and I will go after her," he said. Having thus spoken, he hurried out the door and around the house.

Wending his way in the direction that Anne had indicated, Darcy's thoughts were in turmoil. How could he forgive himself if something should happen to Elizabeth?

As he moved on, he took a deep breath to calm himself, and then he laughed. There was, perhaps, no way of preventing such a circumstance, for that same independent spirit that possessed her before her fall possessed her still, and he imagined she could not long endure the restriction of her room. He would find her and return her to Netherfield, offering every argument for the need for her to comply with Mr. Manning's directions, and would apologize to that man for Elizabeth should her indiscretion become known.

It was not long before he reached the water. Looking downstream where the brush and woods were clear, he caught sight of a vision he would never forget. Sitting on a rock next to the stream, with her hand in the water, was Elizabeth. The sunlight glistened on her dark hair, and exertion had lent a delightful appearance of liveliness to her complexion. She was an image of beauty and loveliness such as he had never before seen.

He was able to observe her for a few moments without being seen. He knew it was wrong not to make his presence known to her, but he could not help but admire the gracefulness of her movements and the look of contentment that seemed to suffuse her face.

Realizing the impropriety of not alerting her to his presence, he quietly called to her so as not to alarm her, "Miss Bennet."

She looked up and favored him with the most radiant smile he had ever beheld. He gloried in the fact that it was all for him.

How he loved... He stopped himself in the middle of the treacherous thought. However true it might be, it was not permissible for him to love her.

"Good afternoon, Miss Bennet," he said. "I understand that Netherfield became a little too confining for you today." He approached her slowly, then sat himself down on a rock near hers.

"Indeed it did, sir. Did you come in search of me, or do I owe the pleasure of meeting you to coincidence?"

He knew she was teasing him, and he felt his resolve melt away. Just at that moment, she looked lovelier and her disposition was more cheerful and playful than he had ever witnessed in her.

"I came upon Anne in the entryway as I returned to the house and she told me of your escape. I immediately came after you." He paused for a moment, matching her gaze. "She is very worried about you, Miss Bennet, as am I."

Elizabeth smiled at him as he continued. "I recall that Mr. Manning's instructions to you were that you remain in bed awhile longer." He looked at her with a raised eyebrow, as if to playfully scold her.

"I am sorry, sir," she said, "and you are correct, of course, but I could not endure another moment without some fresh air. I rarely spend everyday indoors, so you must know how impatient I was becoming for exercise."

"Well, you are forgiven, but are you sure you are well enough to be so thoroughly breaking Mr. Manning's orders?" he asked. It was obvious to him that she was more than well and had not suffered for being out of bed. If anything, she seemed to be improved in looks and color, if such improvements were allowable in one so naturally beautiful.

"I am, sir," she said. "You need not worry yourself."

"I believe you, Miss Bennet, for I have never seen you look lovelier than you do now," he confessed

She blushed in a becoming way and replied to his compliment.

"And you, sir, look very well yourself." She favored him with cheerful laughter, which endeared her to him even more.

"Miss Bennet, you cannot know how pleased I am with your recovery. I was so worried. I was so ... uncertain," he stammered.

She was silent for a moment, taking in the scene before her. There was a small bird bathing itself in a pool of water on the edge of the stream, and the breeze moved in a lazy manner through the trees, causing them to nod their approval to a perfect day.

"I owe it all to you, I believe," Elizabeth said. "Anne told me all you did for me. At first, I confess I was uncomfortable." She instinctively reached out her hand and touched his arm. "But I am not any longer."

He smiled at her, his heart racing with the brief touch of her hand.

"Miss Bennet, I have something I ought to return to you. It was next to you when you fell. I have kept it, and have been carrying it with me ever since.

Her face brightened with curiosity as he showed her the purple ribbon.

"That is from my bonnet!" Her laughter rippled through the air. "Is it your habit to carry ribbon around with you, sir?" she teased.

He paused and looked deeply into her dark, fine eyes. "No, but I have been unable to part with this one."

She could not respond. Just then the breeze carried a lock of hair onto her face, and as she raised her hand to brush it back, he reached out in a quick motion and held it. Time seemed to stop for a moment as he peered into her eyes. She felt her pulse quicken and was grateful that she was sitting down.

Stroking her fingers, he said softly, "It is my favorite color."

She looked at him motionless, her eyes hardly blinking, and felt, rather than saw, him lift her hand to his lips and kiss it.

The beauty of the place, the idea that she was alone with him and the feel of his lips on her hand caused her heart to bound and she nearly trembled from delight. He had been carrying her ribbon with him all this time. It could only mean that he returned the love she felt for him.

He opened her fingers, placed the ribbon in her hand, and then closed them around it. Instead of releasing her hand, he raised it to his lips and placed a lingering kiss on the inside of her wrist.

She sighed her approval. He released her hand and softly touched her arm as he moved his hand up to her shoulder. She felt his fingers on her neck and her chin, and her heart stopped beating as his breath warmed her cheek.

"Elizabeth," he whispered, "I..."

He could say no more.

Their lips met in a gentle caress and as she closed her eyes to absorb the sensation of his touch, her heart went out to him and she knew that from that moment she would be bound to him forever.

Silently, he took her hand and helped Elizabeth to her feet. By unspoken agreement, they turned and began a slow walk to the house. He offered her his arm and she took it, nestling close to him.

Her silence as they walked together spoke of the depth of her feelings for him. She had opened her heart, nay, her whole soul to him, and she now looked to him as the protector of all that was good in her. The gift of her love came with a heart unsullied by previous attachment. He was the only one she had ever loved and there would never be another. She received his love purely and innocently, understanding no other way for love to be offered. No regret furrowed her brow. No mistrust dimmed her mind. All that she had and all that she was belonged to him

Anne had not returned upstairs as Mr. Darcy had requested, but was waiting for them when they entered the house. She joined them as Darcy escorted Elizabeth back to her room. He opened the door and Elizabeth stepped first into her bedchamber, followed by Anne.

Meeting her eyes with a look that spoke of both love and yearning, he closed the distance between them. She reached out her hand, took his and placed the ribbon in it. Without taking his eyes off her, he kissed the ribbon and put it in his pocket next to his heart. He then took her outstretched hand and held it in both of his, and with a heart swollen with love, he kissed her fingers, lingering over her hand for just a moment, then without a word, turned and left the room.

Oh, how he loved her! Oh, how he wanted her!

Darcy's mind was in a state of confusion such as he had never known as he stumbled down the hall and into his room. Barely able to close the door behind him, he collapsed into a chair and experienced all the guilt and self-reproach that had been building inside him since he met Elizabeth by the stream. Kissing her was a liberty he should not have taken, for it violated every sense of honor he held dear.

Echoing in his ears was the sound of his father's voice pronouncing her unsuitability. He would never forget his last conversation with him.

Darcy had been attending his uncle at Matlock when he received word that his father had summoned him home. It was very unlike his father to request anything, so it was with no small degree of concern that he left Matlock for Pemberley. It was a trip of only one day and he arrived in good time. Exiting his carriage, he went immediately to the study where his father was usually to be found.

The study was empty, but Mrs. Reynolds had discovered his arrival and sought him out.

"Master Fitzwilliam! Welcome home, sir. It is a pleasure to see you," said Mrs. Reynolds.

"Yes, thank you, Mrs. Reynolds. Please, I was summoned by my father, but he is not here, he..."

"Forgive me," she said, interrupting him, "but your father is in his bedchamber."

"His bedchamber?" repeated Darcy.

"He is very ill. We are all very worried about him, Master Fitzwilliam."

"Is that why he called me home?"

"Yes. I believe he is awake. Go to him directly!"

Darcy hurried across the hall and up the stairs until he reached his father's room. He paused for a moment to catch his breath then knocked on the door.

A voice Darcy recognized as his father's responded. "Come in, Mrs. Reynolds."

Darcy opened the door to find his father in his bed, looking frail against a background of pillows and blankets.

"It is I, Father! I came as soon as..." Darcy was interrupted by his father.

"Fitzwilliam!" said the elder Darcy as he recognized his mistake. "It is good to see you. Thank you for coming."

"What is the matter?" cried Darcy. "Why do you take to your bed?"

"Fitzwilliam, I have been feeling ill these two weeks. I wanted to see you, that is all."

Darcy was not convinced. His father had spent a lifetime avoiding him.

"Father, what is the reason for my summons?"

The elder Mr. Darcy hesitated, adjusted the bedclothes, and then spoke.

"Fitzwilliam, I was quite ill two days ago when I sent for you. I was certain I was going to die. I wanted to speak with you."

"Father?"

"I feel much better now. So much so, that I am planning on leaving my room tomorrow, but I will tell you what was on my mind. You have traveled a long way and I have interrupted your pleasures. You deserve to know.

"To know what?" asked Darcy as he took a desk chair and seated himself near the bed.

"It had been my intention to tell you about my will, to reveal to you where your mother's jewels are stored for safekeeping and to pass along words of advice to help you as you face the prospect of being the master of Pemberley."

"There is no reason for this, Father. I am certain..."

"Please, let me speak. I will be brief. In my will I have left the entirety of the Pemberley estates and all that I am possessed of to you. I know it is customary for tokens of thanks to be extended to faithful servants and tenants, but not knowing beforehand who would be worthy of such consideration, I leave it to you to make whatever gifts you feel are appropriate."

"The desk in the study is ponderous and heavy, but if you will slide it forward, you will find that it rests on a loose floorboard. Beneath this board is a strongbox containing your mother's jewels. I believe that Georgiana is too young to be responsible for her mother's legacy. Perhaps you will give them to her someday in the future when she is settled."

"I have an able steward, Fitzwilliam, who has promised me a like service to you as I have received from him, and Mrs. Reynolds, dear soul, is quite capable of managing the household."

"Fitzwilliam, Pemberley will never be complete until it possesses a mistress. Have you at all considered the matter of marriage?" asked the older man.

"I enjoy the company of young women, but I have met no one with whom I would wish to spend my life."

"My son, choose wisely. The woman you marry will determine the measure of happiness or despair that you will experience in this life. It is difficult to know beforehand matters of the heart. My only advice is this: Marry your equal. Wed yourself to a woman of beauty, rank, and fortune. She must be possessed of a worthy family whose society will be advantageous to you and by whose interest your fortune and influence will be promoted. Do not be carried away by the violence of emotions that some would call love. Attach yourself to a woman who will not disappoint and with whom you can be seen with pride on all occasions. Do not let passion interfere with your future."

"Fitzwilliam, Georgiana's prospects for an equal alliance will be endangered if you do not choose such a woman. What man would attach himself to a family where vulgarity reigns? Remember Georgiana!" The old man paused for a moment, and the continued, "But you will remember Georgiana. You have always loved her, even when I.... I am satisfied. She will be well cared for under your protection."

Darcy's father had kept his promise and left his bedchamber the next day. He and his son were nearly always together during the days that followed, and for the first time in his life, young Darcy knew what it was to have a father. Longing to be loved by him, he promised himself that he would never do anything of which his father might not approve.

Within a short time, the elder Mr. Darcy was fully recovered and persuaded Darcy to return to Matlock. Sadly, two weeks later, Darcy received his father's final summons to Pemberley.

Darcy knew his father would condemn a match with Elizabeth Bennet as an unequal alliance and would remind him of his responsibility to his sister, for if he made a wrong choice and connected himself with a low family, Georgiana would have no opportunity for making a good match.

Not only that, but his father had also told him that if he married below himself, he would soon lose respect for his wife and be unable to bear her society. He would then fall victim to the vices of the world as he tried to comfort himself from the knowledge that his domestic happiness had been overthrown. The question of an heir had to be addressed as well. How could a woman of low and vulgar descent produce an heir worthy of the honor and prestige of Pemberley? Elizabeth's mother had shown herself to be vulgar and greedy, and the family was perpetually scandalized by the behavior of the two youngest Bennet sisters.

The elder Mr. Darcy had said that he need look no farther than his own family for proof that what he said was true. His cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam's elder brother, the viscount, had married beneath him, shunning women of rank and nobility to attach himself to the daughter of a tradesman. He had claimed that he loved her and she him, but it had all ended in misery. Without mutual respect or lasting affection, they were two strangers living in the same home. He was unwilling to move in her circles and she was unable to move in his. After the first heat of ardor had passed, they were left without common interests or love for each other. Their unhappiness was common knowledge, as was the fact that he had a mistress. Darcy did not want this for himself, and he certainly did not want this for Elizabeth. He would not allow her to be hurt, particularly by himself.

Darcy had been motivated by a desire stronger than duty and obligation when he kissed her. The love he felt for Elizabeth had driven reason away. Oh, how he loved her, how he wanted her! The pain and anguish he felt in knowing he could never have her exceeded that which he had felt at the time of his father's death.

On doubt in particular plagued Darcy's mind. Did not these words of caution come from a father who had left his children alone for months on end, year after year, since the death of their mother?

Darcy's heart was aching for Elizabeth. In her, he knew, he would find love and acceptance, but the gulf between them was unsurpassable. Never having been good enough for his father, he suffered under the belief that he could not disappoint him any further, and a marriage to Elizabeth would be just such a disappointment. His father would never approve of her. And what of Georgiana? He could not jeopardize her prospects. He would not involve Elizabeth in endless ruin.

He knew his resolve weakened when in Elizabeth's presence and that he had no strength to resist the love she offered him. By letting him kiss her, Elizabeth had shown that she was ready to pledge herself to him. For her sake as well as his own, he could not remain at Netherfield. There was no alternative. He must leave her, and do so without seeing her again. He would not become the man Elizabeth's sister accused him of being. He would not trifle with Elizabeth.

She would not understand, of course. The love she had for him was all too apparent, but a short period of pain was far preferable to a lifetime of heartache, which he was convinced would be all he could give her.

Resolved in his decision, though agonized by it, he summoned his valet and told him they would be leaving for London early the next morning.

Elizabeth rejoiced in the passion and tenderness of Mr. Darcy's kiss. Though he had kissed her hand before and she had felt all the delight of those experiences, this was different. This was an intimacy she had never before known. He had touched her, he had kissed her and she had given herself to him.

She would not attempt to deny the pleasure she received from his affection. The tenderness she felt for him nearly overpowered her and she basked in the memory of the passion she felt when his lips touched hers. She would willingly proclaim to the world that she loved him. Never had she imagined that such feelings were possible.

Anne noticed Elizabeth's distraction of mind as she helped her undress and dutifully sent her to bed. Something important had happened between Mr. Darcy and Miss Bennet, thought Anne, and they were forever changed because of it.

Elizabeth knew that she would not see Darcy again until the next day, but she was content. He loved her, and that was all she cared about.

Darcy was in agony the next morning. He had slept very ill, having repeatedly woken up throughout the night upset by vicious dreams. The most distressing of them and the one that was repeated most often, was the one in which he experienced all the joy of marrying Elizabeth, but when he turned to kiss her after the ceremony, she was in tears, accusing him of betraying her. These visions were intermingled with lectures from his father on the expectations he had for young Fitzwilliam when it came to matters of marriage. "Do not settle for an unequal alliance," his father had said. Those words echoed in his head.

Bingley, on the other hand, had slept very well with pleasant dreams of a happy future with Miss Bennet. There was no guilt or pain to disturb his slumber. Refreshed and ready for the day, he was up early and intended to go downstairs and await the others in the breakfast room.

Darcy exited his room just as Bingley was passing by. The two friends greeted each other, though their manner of speaking was markedly different. Whereas Bingley was cheerful and pleasant, Darcy was nervous and distracted.

"You are up early, Darcy," observed Bingley as they descended the stairs. "Join me in the breakfast room, where we can have our tea while Cook prepares our meal." And so saying, he put his hand on Darcy's shoulder as if to usher him into that room.

Darcy stiffly resisted this entreaty, shrugged Bingley's hand away and stepped back from him. Bingley was shocked. He had no idea what he could have done to cause such a response in his friend.

"Please forgive me, Bingley," began Darcy, but there was only the slightest hint of an apology in his voice, rather, it was full of agitation. "I am leaving for London almost this instant. My carriage will be brought around at any moment now."

Bingley was surprised to learn that his friend meditated a quick removal to town, for Darcy planned his journeys carefully and never left unannounced.

"Darcy, why?" demanded Bingley. "You have not been here three weeks, and yet you are leaving?" This was unfathomable to him. Bingley was persuaded that Darcy was in love with Elizabeth, and could not understand why he would want to leave her now. He tried to imagine how he would feel if he were to leave Miss Bennet behind, and he knew he would be in agony because of the pain of separation.

"Business has come up," lied Darcy, "which calls me away, and I desire to see Georgiana." How pathetic that he should use his own sister as an excuse to further his deception.

Bingley followed Darcy into the entryway, where the latter began pacing in front of a window on the lookout for his carriage. Bingley's eyes followed Darcy's progress back and forth across the floor.

"Business?" he exclaimed. "Have you received an express from town of which I did not know? Come, man! Please stay. I will invite Georgiana here," offered Bingley. "Let her join us at Netherfield. You need not go. You must stay! I insist, I..."

"NO!" Darcy's response was delivered heatedly.

Bingley could not recall a time when Darcy had raised his voice to him, and so was shaken by this rebuke. Before he could respond, however, Darcy spoke again, this time more subdued.

"Please forgive me," he said, "but Georgiana must remain in London."

"Very well, but," Bingley hardly dare ask the question, "had I not encountered you in the hall, would you have left without a word to me?"

Darcy looked away and did not answer.

Bingley, who was in pain for his friend, was immediately disconcerted by Darcy's intended incivility.

"When will you return?" asked Bingley, searching for some understanding.

"Soon, I hope." Darcy did not know if that were true or not. He had to stay away from Elizabeth until he could conquer his feelings for her. Perhaps he could never return, for he knew full well what her feelings were for him.

Darcy turned his back on Bingley to look out the window, straining to hear any sound that might signal the arrival of his carriage and the end of this uncomfortable interview.

Given the early hour and Darcy's agitation, Bingley was suddenly struck by a terrible thought.

"Have you told Miss Elizabeth that you are leaving?" Bingley asked with a narrow gaze.

Darcy looked at him for a moment, then at the ground, his grave countenance answering Bingley's question.

The gentlemen heard a carriage coming round the house.

"I...I must go," mumbled Darcy.

"What? You have not spoken with her?!" cried Bingley with growing resentment. This was beyond everything.

"I have not," said Darcy quietly. "I cannot."

"You cannot?" Bingley repeated. "I thought...I thought you cared for her."

Bingley could not understand why Darcy would leave Miss Elizabeth, and began to suspect that Darcy was not leaving Netherfield, but running away from her.

"Have you quarreled with Miss Elizabeth, have you had a disagreement? Please, you cannot leave her without some conversation!" cried Bingley. "Why are you being so cruel? Do you not love her? You cannot tell me that you do not!"

Darcy's voice was a rasping whisper as he made an honest confession. "Yes, I do love her."

Bingley was shocked and made no answer as Darcy turned and fled from the house and into his waiting carriage. He had left without saying another word. He was gone.

Bingley watched the coach drive down the paddock and out the gate. "Darcy, what have you done?"

Continued In Next Section