Beginning , Section II, Next Section

Chapter 8

Posted on Wednesday, 15 December 2004

Darcy was getting impatient. And it had only been a couple of hours since their agreement had been struck! Not trusting himself fully around his bride to be, he decided it would be best to avoid her presence all together. Which was a torture all in itself, he thought as he glared gloomily into an empty fireplace in a small but neat private study. He contemplated how long it would take the ship to reach bath, how long it would take the captain to find Mr. Jones’s wife, and then how long it would take for them to return. A little over a week perhaps, thought Darcy hopefully.

He plopped himself down on a very comfortable, very large leather chair and continued to contemplate the empty fireplace. Actually, it was merely the direction his gaze lay in, for his mind’s eye was in quite a different place. It lay upon the sleeping form of Elizabeth Bennett, as she had laid in the bed after her uncharacteristic swooning fiasco. Her dark curls had toppled from their hair pins and lay lovely and caressingly around her face. There was a serene look about her soft lips and her eyelids fluttered ever so slightly. Her neck was slim and creamy and… and… and awfully washed out when set against the awful shade of what Darcy now realized had been her wedding dress. Of course, it was a very altered wedding dress, but it was still the garment she had donned on the morning she was forced to marry Collins. Perhaps the color was just off, thought Darcy, or perhaps the dress simply knew for what man it was being worn and formed to suit the toad. Perhaps the dress had been picked out with Collins in mind, or the slimy creature had actually had a hand in selecting it. Whatever it was, the dress was awful, and made Elizabeth look extremely ill.

The memory of Elizabeth’s attire sparked another memory. After she had stormed away from him at the inn, he had found the dresses he had bought for her in his room. Well, he’d just give the dresses back! Standing up, he walked purposefully toward the door, but stopped dead in his tracks, hand poised to grab the doorknob. She wouldn’t wear them. Of this Darcy was quite certain. He had only coerced her into wearing them from the start because they were traveling disguised as a married couple. Yes, knew Darcy, Elizabeth would insist on dressing according to her station. And until the young girls’ stepmother arrived, she was a governess, and not suited for the finery that Darcy had picked out and purchased for her. Tis a pity, thought Darcy, the dresses become her quite well.

There had to be a solution to this. No future wife of his, temporary governess or not, would wear an old, ugly, altered wedding dress… Mr. Collins’ wedding dress at that! He marched back over to his chair to once again ponder the nonexistent flames. The scowl that spread to his handsome dark eyes and that would frighten the bravest of men (even pirates) deepened with every thought that failed in bringing him a solution.

The scowl was gone. In one lightening quick thought, one instantaneous revelation, it had been abandoned for the sneakiest of smiles, a most roguish grin.

“Elizabeth…” spoke Rene tentatively, “may I ask where you got that dress?”

Elizabeth and the young women ventured out of doors the day after Mr. Darcy had sent Fitzgerald away with his missives, and were now ensconced within a very old, very fantastic ring of weathered gray stones. The grass that grew up around them was the greenest any of the girls had seen in their lives and the wind that swept their hair from their faces and necks must certainly have carried some ancient magical melody. Elizabeth sat on one of the stones, face to the wind, enjoying nature’s beauty. Rene lay on her stomach in the grass, fingering wild flowers and thinking to herself. Elaina who lay face up, book in hand, had completely tuned out the world around her.

Elizabeth looked up at the younger sister, confused at such a question. “I… it was…” she didn’t know whether or not to tell the girls of Mr. Darcy’s actions on the day of her wedding to Mr. Collins. Would it be the proper thing for a governess to do? “That is not of consequence Rene. Tell me, what are you thinking? Elaina, what are you reading?”

Elaina looked up from her book. “I think you avoid the question for a very pertinent reason Miss. Bennett. And I for one am dying of curiosity to know why.” She sat up quickly with a glimmer in her eyes. “Tell us your story Elizabeth. I know there is one. A storyteller can smell a good story a mile away!”

Now this is interesting, thought Elizabeth. “A storyteller!? Pray tell, what do you mean by this Elaina?” But Elaina did not answer.

“My sister is a writer. If she is not reading some infernal book, she’s got pen and parchment glued to her hands. But really, she does have a very good nose for interesting fables. You cannot hide your past from us. We are very nosy. Besides, the very fact that the handsomest man in the world is violently in love with you is the most compelling clue that you have a fascinating story to tell.”

“Yes,” spoke Elaina, “you must tell us, for we will not give up. We were raised in America mind you, and know a thing or two about perseverance.” Elizabeth looked from one lovely face to another and knew she would have to tell them. They really were a deadly team when working together. And truth be told, in a small way, she wanted to share her adventures.

“Ok. You asked about my dress… where I got it from. Well, there used to be a string of pearls here.” She trailed her fingers along the neckline of the dress. “And here and here.” Now her fingers found the hem of the dress and cuffs of the sleeves. “There was an overlying goldish material that hung from the waist and opened in front to reveal the part you see now. And there as a bow at the waist line.”

“It sounds awful!” exclaimed Rene.

“Rene!” exclaimed Elaina. “Do not be so rude!”

“You would have me lie instead?”

“I would have you say nothing at all!”

“Girls!” shouted Elizabeth, “do you want to hear the story or not?” They silenced and turned expectant eyes toward her. “This ugly gown, for I quite agree it was horrible, was my wedding gown.” she paused, waiting for exclamations of some sort. And though she saw the shock in the girls’ faces, she also saw that they were being considerate of her tale.

“Go on!” they both exclaimed at once.

Elizabeth did. “I was being forced to marry one of the most odious men you will ever have seen. His hair was greasy and his skin quite sickly looking. But that I could have stomached had it not been for his outrageous character.” Elizabeth described Mr. Collins’ incessant compliments and abnormal love for Rosings and Lady Catherine Debourgh. The girls groaned at appropriate places and laughed uproariously when she mimicked his voice quite successfully. “This is indeed a grand staircase Madame, but, I am afraid, it holds nothing in comparison with that magnificent work of art that is the staircase at Rosings.”

“Well, obviously you didn’t marry him. How did you escape this fate worse than death?” asked Elaina.

“It was very much like something out of a book… only very different. For in books, when the preacher asks if anyone has a reason these two should not be wed, the very handsome, very charming love of the bride’s life comes storming through the doors with exaltations of love on his lips. And this happened, but it did not happen.” The girls were growing very confused. “When the preacher spoke his liberating words, a very handsome man did storm down the isle with words of love on his lips. I believe his words were something along the lines of ‘I love this woman and will not allow her to be married to a toad like Collins!’”

“Mr. Darcy! I would melt, be puddle at his feet if he asked me to.” Elaina rolled her eyes at her younger sisters exhortations but, secretly, shared them. “Shh Rene, she is trying to tell the rest of the story. It sounds exactly like in the books Elizabeth. What was different?”

“Well, Mr. Darcy was indeed very handsome, but… as I knew him then… he lacked charm, he lacked civility, and he lacked my love. His exclamations of love for me came completely as a surprise. A very shocking one I might add. I thought he viewed me as lower in society, a country bumpkin. I thought he despised me. And to tell the truth, I despised him.”

“But he was saving you from that toad of a minister!” this time it was Elaina who interjected into Elizabeth’s monologue. “And you’ve agreed to marry him!”

“I must confess that when he threw me up in front of him on his horse, I was feeling quite elated and pleased with my surprise suitor. Even running off with a man I hated seemed far more pleasing that marrying Collins. And… I am ashamed to tell you this, but as the ride progressed, I found myself feeling quite amiable towards my kidnapper. There was a determination to him, a spark of adventure that I had never before seen in his lifeless, disagreeable countenance.” Not to mention how wonderful his arms felt about me, thought Elizabeth, wisely deciding not to voice this little piece of information. “And as we began to talk, I learned things about him that I had never thought possible. He was shy, protective, and no more prideful than any man of his station has a right to be. He was utterly truthful with me, and utterly caring of me. We devised the plan of traveling to Scotland as man and wife so as not to cause scandalous talk. He bought me rather beautiful dresses to play the part of his wife. And by the time we reached Scotland, I had every intention of keeping them, and him. But misunderstandings occurred, thanks to my foolishness, and I returned the dresses and once again donned my loathed wedding dress after taking off all the trimmings. I could not wear such finery as a governess.” Elizabeth ended her tale thusly, knowing that the girls knew everything from there, having eavesdropped on her and Darcy’s confrontation and reconciliation.

“That… is a wonderful story…” stated Rene matter of factly.

“I knew it would be,” bragged Elaina. But the girls’ thoughts soon turned elsewhere.

“Do you still have to wear that dress though?” asked Rene. “It really is quite awful, and frankly, I don’t know of a single governess who would think it fit to wear.” Strangely enough, her older sister kept her remarks about Rene’s rudeness to herself, and suspiciously didn’t even appear to object to them.

“Is it really that horrid?”

“Yes,” both girls said in unison.

“Well… I suppose that I should purchase some new garments when your father pays me.”

“Oh! Yes! We’ll get daddy to give you an advance, and then we’ll go shopping tomorrow! You have about the same shading as Elaina, though Elaina’s complexion is a tad darker… but that doesn’t matter over much. I bet you would look wonderful in soft pinks and browns. No more of that… whatever color that is you’re wearing,” Rene was quite beside herself.

“No, don’t argue with us,” commanded Elaina. “Just go tell father that you need an advance for appropriate clothes. While we were in town, before we came here, I heard that there is to be a ball at some neighboring estate. Father told us we could attend if we had a companion by then. And since you are the appointed she, you will obviously need something more suitable than that. He will understand. Truthfully, he is a push over when it comes to big brown eyes. A trait, thankfully, we all share. They are a blessing, don’t you agree?”

Elizabeth laughed at how her ward’s voice had sailed from business to playful so smoothly, and Rene shook her head in disagreement.

“I hate brown eyes myself. So boring! So plain. Now, green eyes are what is fashionable. What man wants to look lovingly down into pools the color of dirt?!”

“Rene! You are so disagreeable! You have gorgeous eyes. They’re not even brown! They are black! It is unexplainable how you can make that statement with a straight face, and speaking in all honesty!”

“You’re just upset because you have brown eyes too, and have to say such things to make yourself feel better about their color. You know you prefer green! It is a universal preference!”

Sighing, Elizabeth picked up her bonnet and walked away from the stone circle, two fiery, bickering girls trailing behind her.

Later that night, two dark heads popped into the solitude of Darcy’s study through a small crack in the door. Both smiled impishly. “We’re going shopping tomorrow,” said the one of jet black eyes and brownish auburn hair. The other girl’s grin, impossibly, widened. The roguish smile once again adorned Darcy’s lips.

Chapter 9

Posted on Tuesday, 21 December 2004

They decided to walk into town, though Mr. Darcy's rather elegant carriage was offered. Actually, Mr. Darcy thought the girls had used the carriage. Elizabeth, knowing that her fiancé would insist, accepted the offer, then purposefully walked of without the carriage, the two young excited girls in tow. She supposed it was wrong to think of them as young when the eldest was almost her age. But she could not help herself, though each was exceedingly different from the other, they shared the same child-like charm and innocence of youths in new bloom. Which, she supposed, was what Rene in fact was. Her charges were a mystery, and Elizabeth felt that an amiable stroll would be more conducive to answering probing questions than a formal carriage ride would be. The free air seemed to make people more free with each other, and Elizabeth tended to take full advantage of it.

"I have a question for the both of you. And if you answer it, i shall answer a question of your own. Remember, i told you my story yesterday. Now I wish to hear yours." The two dark haired girls exchanged glances.

"What is it you wish to know?" asked Elaina.

Elizabeth picked her words carefully. "I am curious about your mother. I realize that it might be a sore subject between you two, but... is she still alive?"

Rene answered first. "Yes, she is still alive. She lives with our stepfather in Boston.

"So then... your father and mother are divorced?"

"Yes," spoke Elaina. "And a blessing too. From what I have seen, they were not meant for each other at all."

"Only because father was cruel!" exclaimed Rene. "Only because he was controlling and smothered her!"

Elaina responded in a much calmer tone than the one used by her impassioned sister. "Rene, there were reasons for his actions. As you well know." She now addressed Elizabeth. "After I was born, my mother threw me off onto a maid she had hired to nurse me without father's permission. She soon took up her favored pastimes: drinking, smoking, gambling. My father had once enjoyed these very diversions. Their shared interest in these debaucheries was part of their attraction to one another. But as soon as he found out he was to have a child, he dropped everything except for those things which would provide respectfully for his family. He had assumed my mother would too, and that she would nurse me herself, that she would be a diligent mother. Oh, she loved me, but she loved her drinking and gambling more. She was young and beautiful, though so was father, and she desired only to flirt with those more young, more extravagant than herself. My father insisted she stay home and be a proper mother to her newborn daughter. But she wouldn't. He despaired himself of her ever changing, and her faults pained him because of his love for her. When he found out she was pregnant with Rene, he thought that this would finally be thing that made her settle down. But he was wrong. After he realized this, he tried to impose restrictions on her, forbid her certain things. But it only angered her. She left when Rene was but two months old, taking me and traveling to the America's in the arms of a wealthy soldier named Vincent Hazzel. She left no track for my father to follow, as far as I know, she left not even a note. But he did track us down, five years ago. He willingly gave my mother a divorce so that she could marry Vincent, though living in sin with my now stepfather did not bother her a bit." With a scowl, she seemed to have stopped her tale. But sudden joy seemed to light her face, and she spoke once more, this time more briefly. "But... once in America, father met Rachell. And was able to marry her once the divorce was final. They immediately had Hinton. So it has all turned out happily ever after I suppose."

Elizabeth thought it strange that the young girl should use such a phrase to describe that situation when it was normally used to describe one finding one's prince charming. But she abandoned this line of thought for the more pressing matter of the silent and enraged younger sister. Rene did not speak, and indeed, no one did for quite sometime. It was Elizabeth who finally broke the silence. "I... I am sorry for the trials you girls have endured. But... I am happy to know that a little happiness has come into your lives in the form of your stepmother and brother." She said this, hoping that Rene also approved of her father's additions to their family. "Do you mind if i ask still another question?"

"You may," stated Elaina, "after you have answered a question of our own. Rene, do you have a question you are particularly curious about?" Elizabeth supposed it was a sort of peace offering, and she was glad to note that it worked. Rene's face calmed slightly as she became evermore thoughtful.

"What do you love most about Mr. Darcy? Besides his gorgeous face and wonderful rear end."

"Rene!" admonished Elaina, turning a shocked glance toward her sister and a burning blush to Elizabeth. Rene simply smiled mischievously, waiting for an answer.

Elizabeth herself laughed. "Rene, you should not say such things," she reprimanded, though mentally agreeing with the young girl on both assertions of Darcy's "gorgeous face" and "fine rear end." "I suppose what I love most about Mr. Darcy is... well... him. He would not be my Mr. Darcy if he were not the combination of all the traits that make him up. He is not one single thing to me, he is all of his characteristics combined. He is utter truthfulness. Even if he tried to lie to me, his eyes would betray him. But he has never tried. He is nobility. Though I thought him horrible when i first met him, i find him wonderfully noble now. The best of gentlemen. He is intelligent and loving and loyal. I... I suppose what i love the most about him is that... is that he loves me, and he does so diligently and perseveringly. Even when I've been an ignorant and silly little fool, he still loves me. It shows bad judgment on his part, I know, but it is something I am more than willing to forgive and overlook." She finished with a whimsical, longing smile, suddenly wishing she were far from this dirt road and these two girls and quite scandalously closeted with her future husband. Perhaps if she had let him throw her over his shoulder and carry her off to his boat and Antarctica, or Australia, or Africa.

She heard beside her two identical sighs. Turning to the two girls she told them, "One day, you will both find a man like my Mr. Darcy. It is inevitable. You are both brilliantly beautiful you know." Rene colored and murmured a thank you while Elaina rolled her eyes and stared at the ground. When she finally lifted them, they were cold and blank, staring cooling down the path the three girls traveled. They soon forgot their questions as the town and dress shop drew near. Though Elizabeth stored away Elaina's look and reaction in the back of her mind, determined to talk to the girl who Elizabeth felt could become a fast friend.

Mr. Jones rode through town later that afternoon. Rene had soon lost interest in shopping, and in truth, so had Elaina. Neither had ever been the sort of girls whose sole delight laid in clothes. And in truth neither was Elizabeth, but she felt she had to rid herself of the last remnant of Mr. Collins. So she was grateful when a obviously tired Elaina declined Mr. Jones' offer to have tea in a shop across the street before heading back to the manner. Rene did except her father's offer, leaving the two older women alone to shop and walk home later. And the two girls felt comfortable with this.

They walked home an hour later, having purchased two serviceable cream colored gowns for her role as governess, and one other. Elizabeth was secretly glad that Elaina had convinced her into this last purchase, for though it was miles about the simple attire befitting a governess; it was something she knew Darcy would appreciate seeing her in.

But Elizabeth had to leave these thoughts. Instead, she focused on the girl walking beside her. "Elaina, this may seem an impertinent question, and you do not have to answer it by any means, but... why are you not married? You are twenty, yes? I would assume..." she trailed off.

"No, I do not mind answering you. Not at all actually. I am not ashamed of being unmarried. I see no reason to be so. Did you? Before you married Mr. Darcy?"

"No, not at all! I would have remained so until I found a man worthy to love. I guess I'm lucky to have found him now."

"Very lucky indeed," said Elaina morosely. "I will answer you question," she said with a sigh, "though the answer is a story."

"I like stories, as do you. And we have a lot of time to waste. So please, tell me."

Elaina seemed to be thinking quite intently as they walked on for the next several minutes. Then she began. "There was a man. A boy really, at the time. I met him when i was fourteen. You see, we were far from rich in America. We lived in the city with my mother losing job after job for seamstresses and households. I began to work as soon as i was old enough. I worked in the house of a writer once, Mr. Alexander Nell. He quickly picked up on my love of books, my interest in writing. He took me along as a pupil, refusing to let me pay for his services. I loved him, but he was not the man, the boy. The boy was another pupil of his. And for the longest time, I would not even acknowledge Jon's presence. I had to focus solely on my art you see. But, when I was fifteen, I found one of his stories lying around, read it, and fell in love with it. It was witty and sweet, and inspiring. And I told him so. They say flattering is the best way to anyone's heart. Well, after that, we became fast friends. We talked all the time, and read each other's works, helping where we could. We had so much in common, from what we wanted in life, to the same sense of humor.

"I fell in love with him. But I was too shy. I knew he would never see me as anything other than a friend. I began to care about my looks, always wearing my best dresses around him, and fixing my hair in a particular way that he had said looked nice on me. I see my actions as childish and silly now.

"When we were seventeen, three years ago, we entered short stories in a contest without telling Alex. Jon won and i did not. In fact, they sent my submission back to me, claiming that this was a contest for those who could truly dedicate themselves to their art. A woman could not. Jon was offered the chance to travel to England and study at Oxford. It was a chance he could not and indeed should not have passed up. He left. I stayed with Alex and my family. Comforted only by the fact that I had my beloved father back. And that hopefully he would one day take me away from my mother and the life she led. Which he did." Here, Elaina's tale ended. She stared listlessly off into the distance.

"Did you never hear from Jon again?" asked Elizabeth.

"Once. He wrote. He told me that he had been in a terrible accident. That the horse pulling his carriage had been spooked for some reason and bolted into a run. It turned a sharp corner, throwing the carriage against a tree and him along with it. When he wrote, he lay in a hospital bed. He had lost his memory for a week, and when it came back, the first thing he asked for was a pen and paper to write to me. Or so he said. Men are quite capable of lying you know."

"Everyone is capable of lying Elaina."

She refused to meet Elizabeth's eyes. "Do you still love him? Even after all these years?"

She refused to answer Elizabeth's question. "If Mr. Darcy were to disappear for three years, would all those qualities that you say make him the man you love simply disappear? Would you still love him three years later?"

It was a fair question to be sure. It deserved a fair answer. "Yes, I would still love Darcy. How could I not?"

"Then you understand now? Rene does not understand. She thinks me a fool for hanging onto him for so long. And I think myself a fool now and then too. He did not even love me back."

They spent the rest of the walk back in utter silence.

Chapter 10

Posted on Tuesday, 21 December 2004

Elizabeth's third day as governess was much more boring and much less revealing than her second day. She spent the morning teaching little Hinton of the crystal blue eyes and dashing smile to read, then spent the afternoon in music and dancing lessons with Elaina and Rene. It seemed that they had lacked the proper education for ladies of their station while growing up in America. True, they had a hardiness, independence, and courage that only an American woman could exude, but they simply lacked the obvious refinements. Neither could needlepoint, neither were versed in the polite topics of conversation, neither danced at all, and neither knew proper table etiquette. They were bright, intelligent, spirited young women, but would be found completely lacking when facing Caroline Bingley and those of her ilk. Elizabeth did not want the girls to be hurt. Or rather, as it was more likely, for anyone insulting the girls to be punched, by the girls or their protective and adoring father. Elizabeth had her work cut out for her.

She would not stop helping them once she married Mr. Darcy. This she had firmly decided. The elder girl intrigued her as only someone who is deep, and mysterious and inexplicably lonely can. And the younger one reminded her of her own younger sisters, only different. This one acted silly for a reason, and Elizabeth had no idea why. Why would a girl, so obviously talented, go to such great lengths to cover it?

The first ten minutes at the piano that afternoon had gone wonderful, Rene picking up the art geniously. But after several praises from Elizabeth, Elaina, and even Mr. Jones who had idly strolled by the room, Rene started purposefully missing keys, feigning ignorance, asserting: "I shall quit! I am no good at it anyway." She did not try at all the rest of the lesson, and Elizabeth was glad when Hinton came running into the music room proclaiming that he needed his Miss Bennet to help him paint a picture.

Then she had helped him climb a tree, and then watched him run races with a neighbor boy, and listened to his plans to build a boat before she drug the reluctant boy back to the house for dinner. He was a charming child, all smiles, sparkling eyes, and rampant energy.

Mr. Darcy was not at dinner. Matter of fact, Elizabeth had not seen her fiancé since her first day as governess and his future wife, when after lunch he passed her fleetingly in the hallway on her way to the girls' rooms. He had given her the most heart melting smile and his hand had briefly brushed against her own...

Where was he? She wanted to see him, to talk to him. She hadn't had a good conversation with him since they had dispelled all of their misunderstandings. That conversation had led to other pastimes that required the use of the lips for quite different services. And, though she supposed it was not at all proper or decorous (as if any of her actions since her horrid wedding day to Collins had been, and perhaps because of this), she felt she had a right as Darcy's intended, to these sort of attentions. Yes, her undeniable right was being abused, and the one who had bestowed it upon her was abusing it.

She walked to her room with these thoughts dominating her mind. She had told Rene and Elaina that she would read alone in her bedroom tonight instead of keeping company with them in the sitting room that connected their two bedrooms. They had of course assented, knowing they could argue all they wanted without bugging anyone else if she did this. But when Elizabeth reached her room, she could not concentrate on her book, or writing the very complicated letter to her siste that she had been planning out over the last two nights. So she walked around the room. She knew what was making her restless. She missed Mr. Darcy.

Stopping in front of her bureau, she opened the dark wooden doors and fingered the brown silk that hung temptingly inside. This dress had been her guilty pleasure the day before when shopping. She could just picture herself in it, and in Darcy's eyes. It was a rich color that accented the glossy lighter colors of brown that played throughout the darker shades of her hair. The square neck was trimmed with a soft satiny pink, as were the short slightly puffed sleeves, the waist, and the hem. It was very simple, but oh so elegant, and Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to try it on. So try it on she did.

Elaina had been right, she thought as she surveyed herself in the full length mirror. It was wonderful.

A piercing shriek ripped through the quiet of the settling house. It was a child's scream, a scream that was punctuated by heart rending sobs. Elizabeth flew from her room, following the sound of the screams, running into Elaina and Rene on the way downstairs. They were the first to reach the scene. At the foot of the master staircase leading from the entry way of the house, laid a small screaming mass of rumpled clothing, tears, and blood. All three girls rushed down to little Hinton crying his name. Just as they reached the boy, Mr. Jones and Mr. Darcy came flying from opposite corners of the house toward the small boy who could not be quieted and the trio of harried women. Mr. Jones swept them all aside and examined the boy who never missed a beat in his screams. By this time, the entire household had been wakened and a circle of servants crowded round the distressed group. The bleeding was coming from an arm that hung limply to the laying boy's side, forced into a peculiar and impossible position.

"Someone bring me a hard flat surface. A board, a serving tray, anything!" commanded Mr. Jones in a calm yet terrified voice. Several of the servants dashed off to find something that would fit the older man's request. "Hinton my boy," said the father calmly, "you must calm down. I know it hurts, I know my poor boy, but you will be alright. Please Hinton, can you tell me what happened? I have to know so that I can tell the doctor when he arrives, and he can fix you." At that, one of the servants ran into the room, announcing loudly that one of the younger male servants left on horse as soon as he saw what had happened, and was on his way to the nearest doctor.

Hinton calmed down with some effort, and between gasps for breath and small, heart wrenching sobs, squeaked out sparingly few words to the small group huddled over his reclining form. "I thought... fun. Didn't mean to. Staircase... a good shiny rail. But I went too fast."

A servant appeared with a small flat silver tray. Mr. Jones slid the flat surface under the boy's arm and kept a stony face as his son yelled in pain. "Fitzwilliam," said Mr. Jones, "I need you to lift the tray at the exact same time I lift Hinton. His arm is obviously broke, through the skin I think. We can not risk overly moving his arm and causing more damage. We need some place downstairs to put him." The two men coordinated their movements to provide as little pain as possible to the boy and the three girls flew off to gather warm water, clean linens, and good stout alcohol to dull the pain. Though Elizabeth was wary about giving spirits to one so young, she knew of nothing else to alleviate the boy's obvious pain.

While she hurried to find the room the men had lodged the boy in, she couldn't help but consider Mr. Jones' words. Through the skin. She shivered. She hoped it wasn't so.

No one got to bed till late that night. The doctor had come and went and still no one could sleep. Mr. Jones sat watch in the most comfortable chair Mr. Darcy could produce, never closing a protective eye on the pale yet sleeping countenance of his injured son. Rene lay awake in dread, Elaina in contemplative silence.

Elizabeth was simply not tired. She paced her room back and forth, knowing she would never succumb to slumber's allure. And, she was sure, neither would Darcy. She went in search of him.

It did not take her long to locate him. He too was pacing the lushly carpeted floor of his study. She spied him through a crack in the door, and silently pushed the crack wider, watching her affianced. His hair was a tumbled mess and his cravat was completely undone, as was his vest, which hung open quite haphazardly. A corner of his shirt had come untucked and he had never thought to right it. His eyes were dark and troubled... and tired.

He stopped his pacing and faced the silent figure in his doorway. At the mere sight of her, his weariness seemed to melt away. His eyes lightened and his shoulders straightened. He was content to simply stare at her. And it was quite surprising when she flew across the few feet that separated them and flung herself into his arms. "He will be okay, won't he?" she mumbled into Darcy's shoulder. "I'm sorry, I could not stay when the doctor arrived. I did not wish to see... to see..."

"I know," he whispered into her hair. "I understand. I would not wish you to witness such a thing. The poor lad." Reluctantly yet purposefully, Darcy pushed Elizabeth from the circle of his arms and led her to a coach by the fireplace. A roaring fire cast shadows on their faces. "He is a hearty boy. And though the bone coming through the skin did much damage..." Darcy stopped here, noticing the shudder that passed over Elizabeth's features as he had said these last words. But she dogged him on.

"Please, tell me what happened. What the doctor said. I wish to know everything."

"Of course. Though the bone coming through the skin caused much damage, no muscles, miraculously, were torn. The doctor replaced the bone and sewed up the wound. Hinton sleeps, and we will know by morning if fever has set in. The doctor is staying here tonight, in case any emergency care is needed. It is a shame he lives so far. But he has agreed to stay on until we need him as he has an apprentice keeping watch over his clinic in the village." He reached over and smoothed an escaped curl back behind Elizabeth's ear. "The boy will live. His arm will pain him much, and it may never be the same again, but he will not be handicapped by it. The doctor says so, and I believe it to be true. And so must you... why are you not asleep Elizabeth, it is late."

"Why are you not asleep good sir?"

"Of course. But could you not attempt to rest?" asked Darcy almost pleadingly.

"Could you not attempt sir?" admonished Elizabeth half teasingly, half seriously. "I will strike a bargain with you, since you are so fond of them. If you retire for the evening, at least attempting to lay in bed and close your eyes, then so shall I. Deal?"

Darcy appeared to seriously weigh her proposal. "Deal. I must first finish up some things in here."

"Then how do I know you will honor your word Mr. Darcy?"

"If you do not trust me my lady, then you may stay upon that coach until I am through with my business. Does that suit you?"

Elizabeth weighed this proposal as seriously as Darcy had appeared to weigh her own. "Yes, yes it does suit me. Conclude you business then, good sir." Something strangely akin to disappointment flitted strangely across Darcy's eyes before the left the coach for what awaited him at his desk.

Elizabeth pondered the disappointment she had seen in his eyes upon her pronouncement to stay. Did he not want her here? The question was so prominent in her mind that she didn't even get to watch him and teasingly distract him as she had planned on doing. And before she knew it, he rose from his desk and walked to the door, stopping only in its door frame to call her name. Distractedly, she stood and walked to his side. Halfway to her room, she had solved the riddle... she hoped.

"William, I do trust you," she spoke, halting their steps and staring up into his somber face. I only wished to stay to be near you longer, to watch you. I did not stay because I do not trust you. Surely you realize this."

"Surely I don't dear lady. You have not trusted me before, and you did not like me very well before I absconded with you. It pains me to say that I have reason to doubt."

"And it pains me to hear you say such things." Darcy could see that she truly was hurt. But, he remarked mentally as he watched her frown turn into a brilliant beaming smile, she was quite resilient. "But know that from now on it is so! I do trust you! And do not give me a reason not too! Or I'll take you to your very own pirate ship and have you walk the plank!"

Darcy laughed a rich deep melodious laugh, and pulled Elizabeth into his side as he continued their walk to her room. Elizabeth joined her lilting laugh to his, matching her steps to his stride by stride. They reached her door in perfect harmony.

"Good night Mr. Darcy," said she softly.

"What happened to William?" asked he even softer.

She gave him a bewitching smile and stepped away from him, turning the door knob and stepping part way into the room.

"Wait! Elizabeth, where did you get that gown?"

Elizabeth had forgotten that she wore the brown silk, that she had rushed from the room at Hinton's scream with the garment still on her person. She blushed, and instead of staring at her toes, chose to challenge him with her eyes. Let him tease her for her purchase! Let him see the dress! Hadn't she bought it with him in mind?

"It is, Elizabeth, a dress not quite befitting the station of governess. It is much more fine and elegant than that plain, yet fitting cream gown you wore today. Tell me, why would a governess purchase such a luxury, and why would she put it on late in the evening?" Darcy challenged her right back. He knew, or hoped he knew, exactly why she had bought the dress. He simply wanted to hear her say it.

"It is not befitting the station of a governess, but William," she emphasized the use of his familiar name, "it is befitting the station of your wife. I am not sorry I bought it sir. It is beautiful, and I love it. And... and I had thought you might approve as well." Elizabeth's assurance wavered slightly at the end.

"I very much approve Elizabeth. Very much indeed. You are breathtaking in it."

Elizabeth smiled satisfactorily at him, while Darcy's gaze remained somewhat far off, heavy.

"I'm afraid it is rather wrinkled after..." a yawn broke through her speech. "after tonight's ordeal." She shielded another yawn with the back of her hand.

Bending down and brushing a gentle kiss across first her forehead, then her fluttering eyelids, then at last her lips, he lowly murmured goodnight, hovering inches from her face, then turned and left.

The cold air rushed at Elizabeth's face as she realized her William no longer stood so close, that his kisses were gone. She opened her eyes abruptly and frowned, stifling yet another yawn. She closed the door pondering Darcy's abrupt disappearance, and gently lingering her fingers on the tingling spot his lips had left on hers.

Chapter 11

Posted on Wednesday, 22 December 2004

It had been two weeks since Darcy had sent his pir- his ship out to find Mrs. Jones and bring her back to her waiting husband, irascible stepdaughters, and ailing son. If ever there was a family in need of a maternal head figure, it was this one.

Darcy was also growing impatient for Mrs. Jones to arrive. He had counted on waiting to marry his Elizabeth but a week! And now his planned time had doubled and his patience had been cut in half. He should’ve went to find Mrs. Jones himself. But suppose Elizabeth ran off again while he was away. No, the duty of finding and absconding with Mrs. Rachel Jones had to be hefted upon the capable shoulders of his ship’s captain. He had other more serious matters to attend to.

Darcy frowned. An unusual calm had descended upon his house. He had figured it would be just the opposite tonight. For a ball was to be held at a neighboring estate tonight, and both daughters were being allowed to attend, along with their governess of course. Darcy had expected his house to reverberate with the arguments of the two sisters over clothes and jewelry, and with his Elizabeth’s admonitions that the two girls should not fight so.

But there was nothing. Something was not right, Darcy was sure of it. Gathering all his courage, and reminding himself that he was indeed a self proclaimed pirate and therefore should not fear two mere slips of girls, he made his way from his study, up the stairs and towards the series of rooms he had allocated for the sisters to share.

He put an ear up against the door, listening for some sign of life. He heard nothing. Lightly, he tapped on the door before turning the handle and entering.

Three dark haired women stood staring each other down, hands on hips, eyes narrowed. Sparks flew.

Oh God, thought Darcy, surely even the devil himself would run in fear from this harrowing scene. But I will not! “Eli- Miss. Bennett,” he corrected himself, remembering that they were in the company of two others. “Miss. Bennett, is there a problem here?”

“No problem Mr. Darcy, simply a clash of wills,” answered Elizabeth, without taking her gaze away from young Rene. A clash of wills, Darcy realized, could indeed be a problem when the wills were as strong and stubborn as these three surely were.

“May I be of some assistance?” he offered.

Rene’s eyes lit up and she threw herself toward Mr. Darcy. Grabbing his arm tightly with her slender fingers, she looked up at him pleadingly. “Oh Mr. Darcy! Yes please do help me. Father just sent a note from town saying that he would not be back tonight in time for the ball!”

“But,” Darcy interrupted, “your father is not going to the ball, Miss. Jones.”

“Exactly! He was to stay here and watch after Hinton, and now he can’t! And Miss. Bennett and Elaina are insisting I stay here to watch our brother. But it isn’t fair! Tell them it isn’t fair Mr. Darcy, you must!”

Darcy looked toward his fiancé, “Miss. Bennett, I’m sure there’s a reason for having the younger Miss. Jones stay here, I can see several of my own. Would you be so kind as to enlighten me with some of yours?” Rene gasped and let go of Darcy’s arm as if it had suddenly turned red hot and burned her.

“You will not help me!” She dramatically exclaimed. Yet it was not silly dramatics, Darcy could see. There was no flippancy in her looks, no, just cold fury over her self created injustice.

Elizabeth spoke. “She is but sixteen sir, and has yet to come out. Yes, her father was willing to let her come to this small ball tonight, but due to circumstances, it has become clear that she is the only choice to watch her brother. I cannot stay, for the girls cannot go without some sort of chaperone, even if it is only Elaina going. And Elaina must go sir. I simply insist on it. She is the eldest daughter after all."

And has more propriety and grace than her sister, thought Darcy. He did not feel the youngest was ready for society yet. She did not show good judgment, and if she were Darcy’s daughter, would not see the light of day until she did. It would be more of a danger to put the youngest most beautiful daughter amongst all the strapping Scottish lads. Yes, most dangerous. “I believe you are right Miss. Bennett. The younger Miss. Jones should shoulder the responsibility of looking after her brother,” spoke Darcy. Turning to Rene he admonished, “I have seen you interact little with your brother, this should be good for both of you.” With those words, he thought he had the whole situation under control.

“I WILL NOT STAY HOME!!! I WILL ATTEND THE BALL AND NONE OF YOU CAN STOP ME!!!” The cold and determined look in Rene’s eyes was enough to stop any words anyone had meant to contribute dead on their tongues. Elaina knew that look. She knew that frustrating and frustrated tone of voice. Her sister would not give in. With a sigh and a sinking heart, she opened her mouth to speak.

“I will stay. I’ve never had a love for balls or parties anyhow. And Rene obviously is delirious to go. I’ve no problem staying with Hinton. It will please me to spend time with him.”

Rene said nothing, but strode into her room with a triumphant smile, stopping in her doorway to finally speak, “I must dress for the ball.” She never even turned to face the others in the room, just silently shut the door behind her.

“Elaina,” said an exasperated Elizabeth, “You will not do this. You may not like balls, but this will be good for you. You cannot sit behind your paper and pen all your life. You can’t live life through books and your own imagination.”

Darcy was quite confused and worried about Elizabeth’s speech. What did she mean? What ailed his friend’s poor daughter? He looked at her. She looked healthy enough. But he knew quite well that not all illnesses showed outwardly. Some were of the mind… some of the heart.

“Darcy,” complained Elizabeth, “surely you can command Rene to stay home tonight. Elaina must go. There was a pleading in her eyes as well as her voice, and Darcy knew he could deny her nothing. But what could he do about this matter? One girl was willing to stay home, the other was dying to go. Did it really matter all that much? He said as much aloud.

“Truly Elizabeth,” said Elaina, “I do not care. Someone needs to stay with Hinton, and it is better if it is someone who will not be despairing over her ill fate the entire time. I am fine with this arrangement.” She smiled a weak smile that never reached her eyes and told Elizabeth to prepare for the ball, shooing both her and the master of the house from her sitting room.

“Elizabeth,” questioned Darcy once they were outside in the hallway, “why is it so important for the young girl to attend the ball this evening? She will have several chances once Roger and his wife take the children to London next year.”

Elizabeth frowned at his words and turned to walk towards the staircase that led to the next floor and her room. Inviting her to follow by talking to him over his shoulder. “Do you remember when I came to your study the day after our shopping venture?”

“Yes,” answered Darcy as he came up beside her, matching his steps to hers. “Is this about the young man you told me about? Did you actually contact him?”

She stopped her steps and turned up to him with a dazzling smile. “Yes Mr. Darcy, I did. And he is to arrive tonight… and to attend the ball.” He smiled at her obvious delight in the matter. “Although… I’d hoped that Mrs. Jones would be here by now. A governess cannot very well employ a copyist.” Her brows knit together at this unexpected complication.

“A copyist? I thought you said the lad was a great author.”

“Well, he wrote me, and it turns out that his career has not taken off like everyone thought it would. He has been working as a copyist for money, and then writing his novels on the side. I do not know what I shall do about him.”

“Besides play a bit of match making with him I suppose.”

She blushed. “Yes… besides that. But Mr. Darcy, there really is not match making to do here. She already loves him. I’m just putting them in the same place at the same time. There is nothing wrong in that is there?” Darcy did not answer, only laughed. They had reached her bedroom door and Darcy dropped a tiny, warm kiss on her forehead.

“Do not worry Elizabeth, we shall figure something out for your little scheme.” He started to leave, but turned on his heal to face her once more. “Elizabeth,” he asked, his brow furrowing, “what if the young man is not in a position to be part of any matchmaking scheme? What if he is already married, or engaged?”

“He is not. I made sure,” she answered matter of factly.

“Elizabeth! Surely you did not just right out ask the man!”

“No sir I did not! And I’m offended you have so little belief in my intelligence. I told him that I was looking for an unattached individual who would be able to uproot his life to start anew in a different country. I said that I had been told that he was a delightful young man who had fallen on hard times, and that I should write to ask for his services. He wrote back that he had no obligations whatsoever and that he would be on his way when I received his letter.”

“Why did you not involve me more in this little scheme of yours? I’m the pirate here, I have more experience in getting my way.”

“Your pirating career is quite new my Dread Pirate Darcy, and though you’ve started with quite a bang, I’m afraid you’re still quite the amateur.” She smiled up at him playfully, while he dropped one final kiss, this time upon her nose.

He turned to walk away, but swung back to her, a question in his eyes. “Miss. Bennett, may I have the honor of dancing the first dance with you tonight?”

Smiling prettily before closing her door behind her, she answered, “Yes Mr. Darcy, of course you may.”

A very handsome young man stood all alone against the back wall. He held in his hand a glass of wine and kept on his face an amused expression. Rene found the very handsome man very handsome indeed. He was tall and tan with a foreign air about him with his dark eyes and hair. Was he Italian? Perhaps Spanish. Not full blood though. No, that was obvious. But quite frankly, she did not care. She turned her mind instead to matters of greater import: financial status. Though she was but sixteen, she knew the importance of a man with money and status. He was dressed plainly, that was true, but cleanly and in colors that suited him.

Rene made her way through the crowd toward the stranger at the back of the room. She had to reach him before the dance ended and Elizabeth and Mr.Darcy finished Dancing. It was the only dance Elizabeth would dance all night, deciding it was best to stay by her young ward. She had only agreed to the one dance because of Rene’s promise to stay put. Rene only kept her promises, however, if it suited her. She snuck a glance over her shoulder and spied the couple smiling at each other: Elizabeth shyly and Mr. Darcy quite brazenly. Rolling her eyes, Rene turned her attention back to the very handsome man. She was but a few feet from him now.

She knew it was not proper to introduce herself. She needed an introduction from someone she knew who knew him also. “Hello,” she said, fluttering her fan in front of her face.

“Hello…” spoke the man awkwardly. Then, because he had never been in such a situation before, “And you are?”

She laughed a tiny, flirtatious laugh. “I am Rene Jones. And you?”

The man’s eyes opened wide for a moment, and his jaw went slack, forming a slight O. He shut his mouth quickly and controlled the width of his eyes. “Miss. Jones,” he said, showing he had no intention of breaking decorum and addressing her as simply Rene. She frowned at this, but he continued. “I am Mr. Richards.” His voice was gruff, disapproving.

“Mr. Richards… I noticed you standing alone. Do you know anyone here?”

“Actually, Miss. Jones, I am here to meet someone. A Miss Bennet. Do you know her by any chance?” he inquired. But before she could answer, a man’s voice spoke from over her shoulder. Recognizing the deep tone, Rene groaned and rolled her eyes heavenward.

The voice from right behind her said, “Miss. Jones, you seem to have strayed from the table we left you beside. Pray tell me young miss, did you lose your way?”

Rene turned around and looked up into the very angry eyes of Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth’s arm rested within the crook of his, and her eyes held as much disappointment as did Darcy’s. “Miss. Bennett, you shall be glad I lost my way. I’ve run into someone who claims that he is here specifically to meet you. Miss. Bennett, Mr. Darcy, this is Mr. Richards. Mr. Richards, may I introduce Mr. Darcy and his fiancé, Miss. Bennett. My family and I are staying with Mr. Darcy at his estate. It’s but half a mile from this one,” she haughtily stated. Then added, as a mischievous afterthought, “Miss. Bennett is also residing there, as my and my siblings’ governess.”

Elizabeth took control of the conversation away from the young girl. “It is so good to finally meet you Mr. Richards. I was excited to get your letter. I had intended to interview you tonight, to explain to you my plans… but, it seems that plans have changed. You see, I had fully believed I would be married by now, and in a better situation to employ you,” she said this with a laugh and a smile, turning to her fiancé as he prepared to speak.

“Yes, plans have not quite gone as expected Mr. Richards. It is to me that you will be seeking employment now. It seems I’m in dire need of a secretary’s assistance, and the job is yours if it is one that you can perform suitably. I understand it is not the profession to which you are aspiring, but I do not feel there will be any problems with you working personally on the side,” Darcy offered.

Mr. Richard’s face broke into a sincere grin. He thoroughly liked these two. Though the man did not smile unless smiled upon by the woman on his arm, the woman was all warmth. “Yes! The job would be quite suitable indeed. If I may ask Mr. Darcy, when can I begin?”

“Tomorrow,” spoke Darcy, “I find I will require your services first thing tomorrow. Bring your things with you. There is plenty of room at my estate. Matter of fact, you will have a whole wing of the house to yourself. Though,” he added as a sort of statement to himself than to anyone else, “I am quickly running out of wings to allocate to people."

Elizabeth tried valiantly to contain her mirth at her fiancé’s apparent consternation, and succeeded in only producing a sparkling smile. “Rene,” she said to the young girl who was clearly trying to figure out whether she was upset that she had been excluded from the conversation, or thrilled that the handsome Mr. Richards would be in the same house as her. “I believe you’ve seen enough for tonight. I’m sure it’s all been quite exciting, and I believe I am ready to return to the house.”

“Miss Bennett! We just got here! You cannot mean to make me leave!”

“I do indeed intend to make you leave Rene,” she said before turning to Mr. Richards. “I am sorry we must take our leave of you, and I hope you have not been offended by any forward manners…” Rene gasped at Elizabeth’s words.

“I—’’ but she was cut off.

“No harm was done Miss Bennet. It was lovely to meet you, and you Miss. Jones. Mr. Darcy,” he bowed to the esteemed personage and then watched as they left the ballroom.

“Mr. Darcy…” Mr. Richardson asked of his new employer, looking up from the desk he was sitting at. “May I ask a question that you might find… personal in content?”

Darcy looked up, his usual glower in place. “You may, but I reserve the right not to answer it.”

“Yes sir. Is all of Mr. Jones’ family staying with you here?”

“Yes. All but the wife. She is yet to come,” Darcy grumbled gloomily under his breath. “But she will be here shortly,” he added with much determination. She’d better be, thought he, or I’ll be forced to break my promise, and I do not break promises. Indeed, it was only the mantra breathed silently under his breath (I do not break promises) that kept him from sweeping up his bride to be and carrying her to the nearest preacher. He had let nothing stop him from sweeping her up before, and it took all his control not to do it now. It was funny; he had never lost control of his good sensibilities with anything but her.

“I think you should know sir,” Mr. Richards said, interrupting Darcy’s thoughts, “that I am acquainted with the family. In truth, I’ve never met Mr. And Mrs. Jones, or the little boy. And I had only before heard of the younger Miss. Jones until last night. But… I know the elder Miss. Jones quite well. We were friends. I knew, last night, that Miss. Jones was Elaina’s sister for I’d heard the name many times before, and they look so much alike that it is remarkable. I thought, sir, that it would be wise for you to know that I was already acquainted with the lady, since you are my employer. I hope that you do not think I have deceived you in any way.”

“Deceived? Of course not. How were you to know that your friend’s family was staying with me. And really, what does it matter? Perhaps it will help to make you more comfortable here, help you to settle better.”

“Yes sir, indeed sir.”

“Mr. Richards…”

“Yes sir?”

“It is unnecessary to have more than one sir in any sentence. Indeed, I find that I do not require one. Darcy, will be sufficient. I like to keep on friendly terms with my employees.”

The young man smiled brightly, instantly warming to his employer. “Please, you must call me Richards then… or Jon. I find I prefer it when people use my first name. I’m no one of great import anyhow.”

“Jon, we are all of great import to at least one person in this world,” said Darcy, dispensing advice as if her were indeed a great sage. Jon Richards smiled once more as he looked back down at his work.

“Elaina, he is perhaps the finest figure of a man I have ever laid eyes on, besides Mr. Darcy of course. But we cannot hope to attain such perfection as that. He looks like some foreign heathen prince with his dark hair and eyes and skin. Swarthy is the word for him. And he is to stay here! In this house! With us!”

“Rene, he is here to work, I forbid you to interrupt him.”

“You would wouldn’t you. And I suppose that if he looked your way, whispered in your ear, or offered you kisses, you would turn him away. You are immune to such frivolous things I suppose.”

“You suppose wrong dear sister. I am merely careful of who I would allow to bestow such attentions upon me, as you should be.”

“You are only young once dear sister, why not live it well?”

Elaina frowned but did not reply. She knew she would never win the battle with her stubborn sister. Rene had been too influenced by their mother. “What is his name Rene?” she asked her sister as a sort of peace offering, knowing that the younger girl would warm quickly to the subject of Mr. Darcy’s new secretary.

“His name is Mr. Richards, and he used to be an author, or he’s trying to be, or something like that. But he’s fallen on hard times and has taken the position offered to him by Mr. Darcy.”

“Mr. Richards?” If Rene had been paying any attention to her sister at all, she would have noticed that her olive skin had drained of all color.

“Yes. I believe it was Elizabeth’s idea to hire him. I deduced from the very brief conversation that it was she who first contacted him.”

“It was… Rene, did you happen to hear what his first name was?”

“No, he did not tell me his first name. He was trying to be proper. But I could tell he wanted to tell me. He was eyeing me up and down and obviously enjoying the site. I believe Elaina, that I might just have a beau before you do!”

Elaina did not answer her sister’s callous remark, instead she dropped the book she had been reading and walked from the room without a word, Rene’s confused gaze following her until the door shut.

Was it he? Was it the same Mr. Richards? Was it the man she knew better as Jon? It just could not be, but it was all there, the description, the career, and Elizabeth. The fact that Elizabeth was one of the only souls who knew about her insane and ongoing infatuation with the boy of her youth was the most damning evidence of all. It most assuredly could not be a coincidence.

She could kill her well-intentioned companion. She had not thought Elizabeth the kind to meddle so thoroughly in others’ lives. Perhaps Mr. Darcy’s controlling and pirate like side had rubbed off on the lady.

But then again… she felt like running up to Elizabeth and wrapping her arms around her in the biggest of hugs. It was confusing. She wanted nothing more than to sit and talk for hours on end with her old friend, as they used to do at their mentor’s house, but at the same time, she was scared to death.

“Elaina,” said a strange voice from far off. She had been staring at her hands, and now she lifted her gaze out across the stair railing she stood at. Nothing. No one. “Elaina,” again. The voice came from down below. She turned the corner slightly and looked down the flight of stairs just below her. He was standing there smiling hesitantly up at her. When she smiled hesitantly and surprisingly back, his smile widened and consumed the whole of his face. Her’s followed suit. She hurried down the steps, not too fast for she did not want him to think her too eager, and threw her arms around his neck, as he did to her.

“My dear friend, I did not think to ever see you again,” she exclaimed, pulling away from him.

“Nothing and no one can keep me from you,” he teased, a sparkle in his eye. That was the way with them. Other would have called it flirting. But truthfully, neither had a single concept of what flirting was, or how it was done. It was something that only came naturally when one was with the other, and they did not see it as flirting at all. Neither could give it a name either. It was simply the way they interacted.

“So, Mr. Richards, you are the all important secretary to the all important Mr. Darcy. How important you are,” she laughed.

“Yes, but I’ve this strange feeling that he does not really need me. He gives me the strangest things to do. For instance, at the moment I am on an errand to retrieve a list the daily upstairs chores from the head maid. She is to relate them to me while I write them down.”

“An important task indeed good sir.”

“Indeed. Would you come with me on my errand? We have much to catch up on. That is… if you are not busy.”

“I am never busy here Mr. Richards. I spend my days reading and writing and the most spinsterly of pastimes… crocheting.” She threw her head back and laughed as he did too, and joined him in his foray into the most exciting world of upstairs chores.

Chapter 12

Posted on Thursday, 6 January 2005

Mrs. Rachel Jones received her husband’s letter with a scowl the third day after it had been sent. It was scrawled, hastily written, she deduced, and there was a tone that broached absolutely no argument in it. Her stubborn husband had often used such a tone with her, only to have her do as she pleased in the end. If it had not been for the fact that she loved him, they might not be married at all. He had refused to marry her. I am not in a place to take a wife, he had told her. He had at the time been in the process of gaining his daughter’s love and protection, and divorcing the woman who had hid his daughters from him for so long.

But she had persisted, had stayed by his side all the while, being friend before wife. Indeed, she had known that she was the only woman who would put up with his temper and bullheadedness. She smiled as she remembered that once one could work past her husband’s rough exterior, he was as gentle as a lamb, as giving as a saint. And he loved his wife.

It was now two weeks after the letter had been sent, and Mrs. Jones was growing weary of her arduous journey to reach her husband’s side. She also grew weary of the unexpected passengers who had gained passage on Mr. Darcy’s private ship. The lady called herself Miss. Caroline Bingley. The gentleman went by the name of Mr. Bennet. He often paced the ship from stern to bow, a ferocious scowl between his brows. He muttered while he paced, stormed actually, and Mrs. Jones would often watch him, wondering what had happened to so enrage the man. These musing came, of course, in between the curious imaginings as to what could have caused her husband to send his friend’s ship to bring her to him from Bath.

The woman… Miss. Caroline Bingley… was not just amusing. No, she was altogether an annoyance. Her fits of seasickness, fright, and ravings had been what delayed their journey for over a week now. The captain had not known what he was getting into when a tall young lady acquainted him with her acquaintance with his master Mr. Darcy. “We are particularly close friends,” she related to him. As she had promised, she paid him well for board for her and her traveling companion, an aging gentleman who proved to be no relation to her whatsoever. Indeed, for all the respect she showed him, she knew him not at all except as a beggar from the street. Mrs. Jones contemplated this relationship as well. Why did they travel together? It did not make sense. Yet…nothing made sense since her husband’s letter.

Staring out at the rolling gray ocean, trying valiantly to ignore the matching violent clouds that swirled overhead, a small smile graced her lips as a blonde lock of hair was torn from the bun at the nape of her neck. A small sliver of fog-enveloped land arose in the distance.

He paced in his study. It had been over two weeks, two weeks! And needless to say, Darcy was more than restless. His plan had somehow gone horribly wrong, and now not only was he kept from his Elizabeth longer than he had expected, but Mr. Jones grew more worried by the day that his wife had come to some sort of ill. If she had, Darcy would never be able to forgive himself. It seemed that Darcy’s presence had not been good for his friend. First the young boy, who was growing stronger by the day, breaks his arm, and then his wife goes missing, and now the two older daughters seemed ready to kill each other.

That last one was really Elizabeth’s fault. She had brought the young man, Mr. Richards, into the house. Well, he had… but it had been upon Elizabeth’s request, and at the moment he had seen nothing wrong with it. Oh how he saw the action’s follies now. The young Mr. Richards was a studious worker, a talented writer, and gentleman of wonderful manners. He was a total dunce at all other things however. For instance, the lad seemed never to notice the way two very different yet very alike young ladies stared at him.

Darcy plopped himself down into a chair and decided to quite quit thinking of the situation. It did not work, for the situation simply came to him.

“I cannot see that he shows any unusual interest in her Elizabeth. I do not see why you tell me to keep my distance. I have as much right to Mr. Richard’s time and attention as does she!”

“The only one who has true right on the young man’s time is Mr. Darcy. Mr. Richards is after all his employee. And you flirt shamelessly Rene. It is not becoming.”

The young girl did not seem to understand, or care for that matter. “Do you know that he looks her way more than he looks mine? Can you conceive such a notion? It is absurd. My mother always said that Elaina is the brain, and I am the beauty. Everyone knows that I am prettier than she.”

“Do not say such things Rene. Do you know how shallow you sound? Both you and your sister are both beautiful and smart. But have a regard for your sister’s feelings. He is her friend from long ago. You know this. Do you not see how she feels for him?”

“Yes, I do,” Rene replied with a laugh, “But I do not see that he feels for her back. Oh, I grant you that there is affection, but it being stronger than usual is not very apparent. He cares for her as no more than a friend… I am quite sure.”

Darcy heard a single set of footsteps take off purposefully up the stairs. He dared not peek his head out from behind his study door. That was until he heard the loud sigh and the thump. Curiosity got the better of him. Opening the door a crack, he looked to the left of the doorframe. Elizabeth leaned against the wall, her eyes closed, her hand massaging the base of her neck.

“Is all alright Miss. Bennet?” spoke Darcy rather haltingly, using her last name in the likelihood that some servant should pass by. Elizabeth’s eyes flew open and her hand flew to her chest as a small gasp escaped from between her lips.

“Oh! Mr. Darcy, it is you. You gave me a fright.”

“I am truly sorry. I… I overheard your conversation with the younger Miss. Jones. It seems she is proving a hindrance to your love schemes?”

Elizabeth frowned. “It is not a love scheme. I am simply helping a starving artist and a lonely young girl.”

“Yes, but if your ultimate intention includes marriage between those two, then I should have to categorize it as a love scheme.” He smiled at her, and might have taken her hand in his to graze a kiss upon her knuckles, had a short butler with a rather hawkish nose not interrupted them.

“Mr. Darcy, sir, I have just received a message from town. Your ship arrived at port last night. The man you had waiting set out on horseback as soon as it touched dock and arrived here only just now. Mrs. Jones is safe and ready to see her family sir, or so she told your man.”

Darcy’s eyebrows shot up and he did his best to smother the grin that threatened to pop up uncharacteristically onto his lips. “Give the man a fresh horse and send him back to the village. Mrs. Jones is not to leave. We will meet her by this time tomorrow at the Green Hill Inn. She is invited to a wedding.” At this, he did smile, and he did take Elizabeth’s hand in his own as the butler vanished down the hallway. “Elizabeth, can you be ready in two hours time? Wait, what time is it?”

“Noon, I believe, but aren’t we being a bit hasty? What if Mrs. Jones has already set out for here?” asked Elizabeth somewhat hesitantly.

“She won’t have. I told the captain my plans. He was to send word when they arrived so that I could prepare everyone to ride into town for the wedding.”

“Well you might have told me of the plan Mr. Darcy! I’ve known nothing but that I’ll marry you when Mr. Jones’ wife arrives,” replied Elizabeth with a somewhat indignant tone to her voice.

Darcy sensed that he might have done something wrong, but knew not what to say. Had she changed her mind then? Had something happened to make her feel less for him? Perhaps he had been mistaken in the first place? He stepped back into his office and beckoned Elizabeth to follow him. When she had passed through the doorway, he closed the door behind her and ushered her to a seat beside the fire.

She sat, and watched him pace for a while, wondering why that horrific scowl marred his face. She tried to catch a glimpse of his eyes, for he always opened his very soul to her there (indeed he could not shut her out there), but was unable to lock a single glance. She would wait for him.

After about five full laps of serious pacing, Darcy came to stand directly in front of her, his hands clasped business like behind his back. “Have your feelings changed? Do you no longer wish to marry me? Have you come to realize that you no longer love me?” He had held her eyes with his own fierce ones until this last question. Then he could do not but turn stiffly toward the fire, afraid of her answers.

He shouldn’t be afraid, the silly man, thought Elizabeth. She might have burst out in laughter had his countenance and voice not appeared so serious. She wished to tease him mercilessly, but knew that he needed solid reassurance. To think that she had once thought this man had more confidence and pride than any had a right to! And here he was, his very breath hanging on what words might fall from her lips. Now the threatening laughter turned to outright joy. She was truly blessed.

“Mr. Darcy,” she started, standing from the chair and forcing his gaze onto her. “Do you think me that fickle? No, my feelings have not changed. And no matter how many times I become angry at you, or frustrated, or displeased, I will always love you.” She smiled warmly up at her soon to be husband and marveled that he was smiling back. It was one of those knee weakening, sense crushing, teeth baring smiles that made her long for one thing only: him. “Two hours you say William? I believe I can be ready in one.” She tossed a flirtatious grin back at him as she left the room. The door clicked quietly behind her and… she couldn’t be sure… but she could have sworn she heard a “WHOOOOO HOOOOOO!” as she made her way down the sunlit hallway.

Three men escorted a large carriage along the well-shaped road in the middle of a dark quiet night. They were all tall and dark and handsome, though of varying ages, and had differing looks upon their faces, revealed only by the silver moonlight that bathed the scene.

The man closest to the carriage was the eldest of the three, with silver shots of gray through his short dark brown hair. He stayed close to the carriage and looked in on its occupants often, reprimanding one in a stern tone or laughing with another in a deep hearty guffaw. He had told them often to sleep, yet it seemed that sleep was something that none of the carriage’s occupants could bring themselves to do.

One man, the youngest, walked close to the horses, talking to no one, and keeping a steady pace. He had a thoughtful look on his face. His eyes were distant, his brows pulled slightly together, and his mouth was set in a soft line.

The man who led this midnight excursion rode ahead of the rest, but not out of site of the carriage. There was an impatience in his eyes, an energy in his body that made it seem as if he could bolt his horse into a run at any moment. There was also determination. The man would every so often look back at the carriage, checking to see that all was in accordance with his wishes. When he did so this time, his gaze fell upon the youngest man traveling close to the horses pulling the carriage. He wondered what it was the young man was so intent in.

“Mr. Richards,” called out the rich and deep voice of Mr. Darcy. “Come ride with me.”

Mr. Richards broke his horse into a slight gallop, and matched his horses pace to his employer’s when he pulled up beside him. “Is there something you need Mr. Darcy?”

“A conversation, actually.”

Mr. Richards was taken aback. Why would the great Mr. Darcy wish to speak like friends with his employee? He had noticed that the man was kind to his servants, but he had thought that he would keep a class-conscious distance as well. “Well, sir, I do not know what we would speak of. Anything you like of course.” Mr. Richards realized that he had said sir. He was not supposed to say sir to Mr. Darcy, Mr. Darcy had asked him not to. He swallowed a lump of nervousness in his throat and hoped his employer would overlook his folly.

“I would like to know about you, Mr. Richards. What sort of things do you write about? What sort of life have you lived? What do you wish for the future? It is still a long ride that lies before us and I find I need the companionship of a male comrade of some sort. Indeed, I was to have my best friend stand up with me at my wedding, but now I find that my newly acquired spontaneity leaves me without him. And, if I should ask you to stand up with me, as Mr. Jones should probably give Miss. Bennet away, I find I should know something of you.”

Mr. Richards was somewhat dumbfounded to so suddenly be thrown onto such an intimate level with his employer. But why not? He was a personable man, and he found that Mr. Darcy was probably very friendly as well, a good man to have as a friend and mentor. “Yes, perhaps you should. But… I hardly know where to start.”

“Well, where are you from?” asked Darcy inquisitively.

“My father is Italian, and my mother is half English, half Sioux Indian. So, I’m a bit of a mix. But… I’m not poor sir, well, not if I took what my parents would have me take. My father is part of the aristocracy in Italy. And my mother’s English hails from a very wealthy English line. And my Indian ancestors are the noblest of people.”

“You get a bit defensive about your background don’t you?”

Mr. Richards blushed, but luckily, it was hid by the dark of night. “Yes. There are those in London, in Paris, who accept me for my exoticness, and then there are those who have shunned me, who have refused to read a word of my writing because of my ancestry.”

“Is that why you’ve fallen on hard times, why you’ve accepted a secretarial job in lieu of your passion?”

“Yes, that and something that happened to me a while back.” He waited for a comment from the man beside him, but all that me him was silence, an indicator that the boy should go on with his story. “I had fallen in good with a very beautiful, very rich patroness. She was married, and was looking for something more than a young writer to dote upon and sponsor. She wanted a lover. I couldn’t do this, I wouldn’t. I was raised very close to the Christian church, and at one time entertained ideas of the priesthood, but found as I grew older that I had a desire for a family, for the love of a good woman. I would not taint this desire of mine with something as impure and ignoble as an affaire.”

Darcy nodded agreement to the young man’s statement. The boy had spirit, and fortitude, and good character, and Darcy heartily approved.

“She continued to sponsor my writing however,” continued Richards. “She thought of me as a challenge, as a young idealistic god who would one day be hers. I let her think this, though now I realize it was wrong of me, and continued to live on the money she provided me. But I was to pay for my folly. The horses that were pulling the cart I rode in one day were spooked by something in the busy London streets. They reared and rushed into a sprint. I was thrown from the cart and landed hard on the ground. I do not remember anything after that.” He finished in silence.

“Were you rendered unable to write after that? Physically? Mentally?” asked a now intrigued Darcy.

“No. Matter of fact, I wrote some of my best work after the accident. But my sponsor realized that I was mortal after all, that I was not a god. She could be bothered with nothing less, so she abandoned me. I am thankful for it now however, for I’d rather have more honest work. You, Mr. Darcy, have provided me that chance. And your kind fiancée. Though,” he added with a hint of confusion. “I’m not quite clear on how you can to find out about me. How was it you came to ask for my services? I do not wish to ask things that you do not wish to answer sir, but it has been a matter of confusion to me since I received Miss. Bennet’s note.” Richards had his suspicions, his ideas as to what, or rather who might have brought notice to his name and person, but he wished verification, if he could get it.

Darcy was elated at the direction this conversation suddenly took, for it had been the direction he had intended all along. “Truthfully, since I have no reason to hide the truth, Miss. Bennet was informed of your situation by your friend, the elder Miss. Jones. The young girl did not know much about you, only that you had suffered an accident and had fallen on hard times. It was enough for Miss. Bennet. She has a giving nature,” and a tendency toward scheming, thought Darcy, “that leads her to do as much for her fellow man as possible… and woman.”

“So… it was Elaina…” Richards’ voice tapered off into the night.

Darcy took his opening, hoping that the boy trusted him enough to give it to him. “Yes, Elaina… Mr. Richards, I have a question to ask you. It is of a rather personal nature, and I wish to let you know that you are not required to answer it. Had anyone asked me about Miss. Bennet when I first formed an affection for her, I would have scowled at them and uttered some lie. Matter of fact…” he said thoughtfully, “I believe I often did,” thinking of Caroline’s hurtful jabs about Elizabeth’s mother, and his own horrible insults to Elizabeth’s beauty. Darcy did not give the younger man a chance to think, he simply charged ahead. “Mr. Richards, do you have any attentions towards Miss. Rene Jones?”

“Rene!? Rene? Rene?” he asked for the third time, as if unable to understand the simple name.

“Yes, Mr. Richards, Rene,” replied Darcy gruffly, trying to act in all seriousness with this delicate matter.

“Rene,” Mr. Richards was beginning to sound like a parrot thought Darcy. “No,” Richards almost laughed, “I’ve never thought of the younger Miss. Jones as… as… as anything really! She is too brazen for me, to colorful and loud. She is a beautiful and smart girl, she is witty and would be popular in the circles of high society I believe…but she is not for me. Why do you ask?”

“Are you blind man? She has followed you doggedly around the house since you have been there,” stated Darcy bluntly.

Mr. Richards blinked, then blinked again, as if assimilating this information for the first time. “Has she? I… I’m afraid my mind has been elsewhere,” he admitted with a blush, which was also blessedly covered by the night.

“On the elder Miss. Jones…” offered Darcy.

“What!” exclaimed Richards. Truly, this conversation with his employer was more revealing and deep than he had ever thought it would be. Why would Mr. Darcy bate him so? “Elaina… Elaina and I are just friends. We… we’ve always been so.”

“You do not say that with affirmation, or with happiness. You do not sound content.”

“These are my personal matters sir, and I am not obligated to reveal them to you.”

“No, no you are not. But I might have some advice for you.”

Richards could not help his curiosity. “And that is?”

“Women are never as they appear. Either they are hiding something because they are afraid of you, or they are hiding something because they are afraid of society, or you’re just a complete idiot and read them all wrong!” Darcy chuckled, remembering when Elizabeth had told him that she hated him. And after he had kidnapped her from her wedding no less. He had pictured her looking adoringly into his eyes and thanking him with loving kisses, and had received harsh words and plans concerning governesses. He chuckled again, causing Mr. Richards to look on silently, perplexed, waiting for more words of wisdom from his employer.

“I thought Miss Bennet in love with me when I first… proposed to her,” spoke Darcy in confidence, relying on the word proposed rather than telling the young man that he had kidnapped his bride to be from her first wedding. “But she told me she hated me. And because I loved her, I pursued her until she loved me back. And I have learned something raising my sister Georgiana, and living in a house with three very headstrong girls this past two weeks.”

“What is that?” asked Mr. Richards. He was surprised that Darcy had confided that story to him, that the man was taking a parental role almost.

Darcy laughed once more. “Assume nothing. Always ask if you are unsure, and… they like pirates.”

“What?!”

“Nothing. Just… do not, like some bloody martyr, refuse to approach the girl of your heart because you are afraid she does not love you back. Chase her. Runaway with her… or at least threaten to.” He ended with a chuckle.

Richards was quite confused. Mr. Darcy was being quite enigmatic, silly even. He might have asked a question to follow up his employer’s absurd remarks, but they were interrupted by a pretty head thrust out the carriage window.

“What is it you laugh about?” questioned Mr. Jones’ youngest daughter. “I am not tired, and would like to share the joke.”

The two men rode up to the carriage window, one on each side. Darcy slowed his horse and lowered his head to look into the carriage. Seeing his curious stare, Elizabeth turned toward him and smiled a sleepy smile. Young Hinton was asleep in her lap; his head limp against her shoulder. Darcy was jolted with the sudden idea that one day it would be their child she cradled so. The two Miss. Joneses sat opposite his fiancée and her little ward, smiling into the opposite window at Mr. Richards. Rene’s smile was planned and beguiling, Elaina’s was sweet and tentative… and sad.

“We were joking of nothing ladies,” informed Mr. Richards. “We were just talking business, as men do.”

Elizabeth looked curiously at her future husband, cocking her head to one side. He gave her a slight smile as if to say, later my love, and said instead, “We shall be at the Green Hill Inn by sunrise. That should be in about two hours, I think. Then we marry.”

“But Mr. Darcy,” interrupted Rene, “What about her wedding dress, and her family? Are they not to be here? Shouldn’t the bride have some say in the matter?”

“None whatsoever,” answered Elizabeth instead of Darcy, “For you see, I have agreed to marry a pirate, and knew from the beginning what I was getting into,” she said quite seriously.”

“Indeed you did,” he replied gravely before riding to the front once more. “Indeed you did.” Only Elizabeth noticed the sudden moonlight glinting on a mischievous gleam in her pirate fiancé’s eye.

“A pirate… whatever do you mean Elizabeth?” asked Elaina, taking her attention away from her friend and the sister who flirted with him.

“Mr. Darcy is a self proclaimed Pirate girls, Mr. Richards, and,” she ended with a smile, “I’m his captive!”

Chapter 13

Posted on Wednesday, 12 January 2005

The tiny seaside village was just beginning to awaken. Sleepy shopkeepers opened their shops and a boy rubbing his eyes with balled up fists stood almost lifelessly on a street corner, a stack of newspapers at his side.

Darcy’s carriage stopped close to the gangplank of a good-sized ship with the name Anne painted across the side. A small woman with shinning blonde hair leaned excitedly over one railing as the ship’s crewmen scuttled about, unloading, cleaning, shouting orders and gruff replies.

Darcy himself scowled at the men unloading the ship. Surely they carried too much luggage for one woman! “Jones!” he yelled. “Does your wife carry enough clothes for herself and your daughters?”

Mr. Jones frowned. “No Darce, only one of those trunks is hers. I don’t recognize the other ones.” Now both men stared at the trunks, hands on their hips, eyebrows pulled down low and contemplative over their dark eyes.

The other man in the company, Mr. Richards, helped the ladies from the carriage. Rene smiled up prettily at him as she clung to his arm. The easy grin he returned her turned to a scowl though when she left his side to go greet her mother in law who was walking off the ship. Elaina followed after her sister and after a moment overflowing with serious thought, Mr. Richards followed after Elaina, offering her his arm. She took it, smiling a strange smile of shyness and deep friendship. Elizabeth watched all this from her spot by the carriage, a small hand holding onto little Hinton’s shoulder, a smug smile upon her lips. When she saw that the blonde woman, whom she assumed to be Mrs. Jones had left the precarious gangplank and was firmly on the ground, she released the little boy’s shoulder and bent down to whisper in his ear.

“I believe that is your mama Hinton. Should you go greet her?” The little boy’s face illuminated in a bright smile that only little boys can have and ran as fast as he dared toward the shape he recognized as his mother. Elizabeth watched still as Hinton threw his arms around Mrs. Jones and she scooped him up her arms. When she put the boy down again, she threw an arm around each girl and began to walk toward Elizabeth. Elizabeth scanned the area, looking for the three men who were their escorts and protectors. They were nowhere in sight.

“And are you the Miss. Elizabeth Bennet my stepdaughters and son have been telling me about?”

Elizabeth brought her stare around to face Mrs. Jones. “Yes, I am. And it is nice to meet you Mrs. Jones. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“I suppose the girls have told you how horrible and strict I am and my son has told him how I don’t allow him to eat cookies for breakfast.” There was a laugh in her voice that was irresistible, and Elizabeth hoped that she would get to spend much time getting to know the woman before her.

“Oh no, nothing so hideous I assure you,” Elizabeth replied.

“I wish to thank you for looking after my children in my absence, it was very good of you.”

“It was no problem. And I do hope you are not too shocked by your son’s arm.”

“Oh no! It was bound to happen at some time, what with the way he rampages about all the time.”

“He is a spirited child.”

“Like my daughters here,” Mrs. Jones responded, gracing her stepdaughters with a loving smile. “Also like me I’m afraid.”

“And father,” said the sisters together, laughing.

Elizabeth just could not picture the usually amiable Mr. Jones as spirited in any way. But she knew that his family would know him better than she ever could.

“Speaking of your father… where is the man? And the most mysterious Mr. Darcy?” Mrs. Jones cast a roving eye in all directions.

“And where is Mr. Richards?” asked Rene. He was with us when we met Rachel on the gangplank, but he has disappeared.

The four women looked about them, confusion writ all over their faces. Exactly where had all the men gone?

Mr. Darcy and Mr. Jones had gone to talk to the ship’s captain to find out what had delayed what was supposed to have been a relatively short journey. On their way up the gangplank, they spotted Mr. Richards, and Darcy waved for the young man to follow him, thinking of expanding the duties that belong to the position of secretary to include keeping notes on the maintenance and upkeep of a good ship.

They had not but touched the planks of the ship’s floorboards when the captain came rushing up to the three men, agitation obvious in the tilt of his mouth, the tone of his words.

“Mr. Darcy, Mr. Darcy, I’m afraid we’ve run into a bit of a problem sir.”

“I’d say you have. You were supposed to have been back a week ago!”

“Yes, but it is because of this problem that we were delayed.”

“Well man, explain!” exclaimed Mr. Jones. “Did my wife become sick? Was there trouble at sea? Storms?”

“No sir, no sir. The journey would have gone smoothly and quickly had we not mistakenly picked up extra passengers in Bath.” The man bit his lower lip, as if expecting a beating or at least harsh, loud words. But all he received was a calm question.

“Passengers? The plan did not include picking up extra passengers Mr. Halloway,” spoke Darcy coolly.

“Yes sir, I know, but they claimed to know you, to have urgent business with you. Indeed, the woman claimed to be your betrothed.”

“My what!” Now Darcy’s temper and volume rose, causing beads of sweat to break out on the captain’s forehead.

“But it was a lie sir. One of the men heard her talking to the old man that is traveling with her. They was sayin’ scandalous things about you sir, that you had kidnapped the old man’s daughter and run away with her, ruinin her reputation. That you had promised to marry the woman on the ship but then you took this other lady in stead. So we locked em up Mr. Darcy. The man, he was sayin that he was goin to kill ya once he saw ya. And that’s when we realized that we was harborin criminals and liars.” He looked to him employer for some sign that he had done right. But Darcy’s face was unreadable.

“You… locked them up?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Where are they?”

“Would you like me to take ya to em?”

“Yes… yes I would.” Darcy knew that if his captain really had locked up who he thought the captain had locked up, then his life was about to become just a bit harder.

They followed the well-intentioned captain down into the ship and Mr. Jones turned to Mr. Darcy. “Darcy, what is going on? Do you think you know these people? What could they be thinking?”

Darcy did not answer.

Mr. Richard’s mind was working fast, putting the captain’s story and Darcy’s revelation together quickly. Hadn’t Mr. Darcy said that Miss. Bennet had hated him at first, but that he had doggedly pursued her until she had agreed to be his? Could he have kidnapped Miss. Bennet? Surely not. Mr. Darcy was one of the most straightforward, honest and noble men Mr. Richards had ever met.

When they reached a door at the back of the boat, the captain pulled out a key. “They’re in this room sir. I kept em in a suit, so they’d be comfortable, but I locked the door.”

Darcy turned to his two companions before the captain could put the key in the lock. “Roger my friend, I think I should handle this. Why don’t you go to your wife and family. Tell Miss. Bennet to prepare for our wedding. I’ll handle this situation as quickly as possible and will return to the inn before too long. Mr. Richards,” he said, nodding his head to the young man, “I think you should go with Mr. Jones. Four women and a small rambunctious child might be too much for even a man of Roger’s stamina to handle.” He smiled a smile that did not quite seem whole hearted and turned back to the captain and the locked door once Mr. Jones and Mr. Richards had walked back up on deck. Nodding his assent to the captain, the key was slid into the lock, the doorknob turned, and the door opened.

Darcy took a deep breath, and entered the darkened room.

Both occupants of the cabin looked up when the captain entered, Darcy following close behind.

Caroline jumped from a chair she had taken at the back of the small but accommodating room. “Mr. Darcy! I am so glad you have come. You will not believe the atrocities I’ve been exposed to, the injustices that have been heaped upon me! That man!” she exclaimed, pointing towards Captain Halloway, “threw me in this room, accusing me of treasonous plans!” She huffed up to Darcy and threw her arms across her chest, attempting to look as pained and hurt as possible. Darcy did not think she looked hurt or pained at all. He thought she looked indignant and righteous, and he almost not keep himself from rolling his eyes at her protestations. But, living a lifetime of being reserved had its benefits, and Mr. Darcy was successfully able to keep his face void of all disapproving emotion.

“Mr. Darcy,” came a threatening growl from a dark corner of the small cabin. Mr. Bennet stepped up to the man, standing a few feet behind Miss. Bingley. “I believe you have something that belongs to me.”

Darcy felt cornered and cramped in this tiny room with so many glaring eyes and murderous intents on him. “Captain Halloway,” he said, turning toward the man, “would you please escort Miss. Bingley to the local inn? I’ll be along in a while.”
Caroline looked as if she were about to refuse to go with the good captain, but before she could get out a single word, Halloway had her arm in his and was escorting her from the room, never one to tarry on his employer’s orders.

“Mr. Bennet, I believe we need to talk in private,” spoke Darcy, as the captain drug Caroline unceremoniously out the door.

“Yes, Mr. Darcy, I have an unusually important matter to discuss with you, you lying, menacing, preying cad!” Mr. Bennet drew quickly closer to Mr. Darcy, a fist shaking dangerously close to Darcy’s face. Darcy drew back a step.

“Mr. Bennet, can we please sit calmly and have a civilized conversation about all this? Please, take a seat.” Darcy pulled a chair from under a table and offered it to the older man. Mr. Bennet glared cautiously at the man who kidnapped his daughter. Finally, after what seemed a lifetime of cautious deliberation on the elder Bennet’s part, the man took the chair that Darcy offered, and Darcy sat himself across the table from the other man.

“I’ll give one chance to explain your actions to my satisfaction, though I can’t promise you I won’t still take actions against you. You have thoroughly endangered my daughter’s person, and ruined her reputation, not to mention your own sir, so speak carefully, and I recommend the truth.”

Darcy was not used to being interrogated. He was usually the one with the upper hand in every situation. And here he was, explaining his actions to someone else. It was totally new for the master of Pemberley, and needless to say, he did not like it. But he knew that in this instance, he had been in the wrong. It had been scandalous to kidnap his future bride from another wedding, and he really had no sane reason to offer that could make his motives seem better than they were. So, setting in place the grim stone face Darcy look, he began an explanation.

“To start out with sir, I do not regret rescuing your daughter from what would have been a disastrous union.”

Mr. Bennet looked as if he was about to interrupt, but Mr. Darcy silenced him.

“No sir, pray do not interrupt me. I’ve much to say and wish to get it out all at once. You may ask as many questions as you like after I’ve had my say.” There was not question to Darcy’s voice. He was telling the older man what to do in a tone that breached no argument. He continued his explanation.

“I was not thinking sir, not logically at least. When I showed up at the church, my only thought was that I could not allow a woman such as Elizabeth Bennet marry a man such as Mr. Collins. She is smart, witty, beautiful and vivacious. Mr. Collins is none of these, and I do not mean to criticize Mr. Bennet, but I cannot see how either you or your wife thought it an appropriate match. Surely you see how much more valuable your daughter is.” He did not wait for an answer.

“I had no thought to whether my actions were appropriate or not, or indeed whether they would be accepted or not by your daughter. I simply knew that I loved her, and could let her marry no other man than myself. Of course I realize now that I was very presumptuous in my thoughts and actions. And sir, let me assure you, that had Elizabeth not had plans of her own after our escape, we’d have already been married long ago. But I can assure you also that no inappropriate actions have taken place. Both of us have remained as pure and innocent in our dealings as any decent couple can admit to. And I finish, sir, by saying that we are to marry this very afternoon, and I know Elizabeth would be delighted to have you present. Indeed, it has been my greatest regret, that even though I’ve won the desire of my heart, my actions have taken from her the grand wedding she might have had, the opportunity of having her loved ones look on as she begins a new chapter of her life.” With that, Darcy quit talking and looked onto Mr. Bennet, awaiting a reply of any sort. It was not long in coming either.

“You are marrying her then. And she wishes to marry you?”

“Yes sir, miraculously, she does.”

“May I see her?”

“Of course! She is not my prisoner! Matter of fact, she’s been acting as governess in my household for the past two weeks.” At the incredulous look on his future father in law’s face, Darcy knew that further explanation would be needed. “It was not my idea. I did not want her to do such a thing, but since my friend and his children were staying with me, and his wife was visiting her parents, Elizabeth felt that they needed her more than I. Though I beg to differ on that point to a certain extent,” mused Darcy almost to himself. “She has been housed in the best of rooms, in a hallway on a completely different floor than my own, across the hall from the quarters where the two girls she was looking after slept. Can you find any fault in my actions sir?”

“Aside from the fact that you kidnapped my daughter on her wedding day, absconded with her across the ocean to Scotland, where you housed her at your own estate where she worked as a governess while engaged to you, no, no Mr. Darcy, I cannot,” spoke Mr. Bennet, his words heavy with disdain.

“I can tell that you do not like me sir,” said Darcy icily. “I wish it were not so, for we are soon to be related.”

“No Mr. Darcy, I do not like you. And that remains to be seen. Miss. Bingley has just been telling me that you were to marry her. What do you have to say to that man?”

“You may choose to believe me or Miss. Bingley. Would I be right in believing that no matter what I say, you will side with her?”

“She did not kidnap my daughter!”

“Then I will not be able to bring you around?” asked Darcy, though there was no questioning tone to his voice.

“No, sir, you will not. I’ll be taking my daughter home this very day.”

“You will not be able to sir, for your daughter, will soon be my wife. And once she is so, it will be you who is the kidnapper.” Darcy stood from the chair as if to leave, but halted his steps and turned back to the man at the table. “I knew it would be rough between us, because of my inexcusable actions. But I had hoped that once you saw my love for Elizabeth, you would be persuaded to forgive me. I see it is not so. And because I know it will pain Elizabeth, it pains me. But I will marry her; you will not stop me.” Darcy left the room, a scowling Mr. Bennet remained seated looking into the empty doorway that the infuriating daughternapper had just vacated.

Continued In Next Section