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Chapter 11

Posted on Thursday, 19 May 2005

Darcy stalked into the darkened library, tore his cravat from his throat and threw it on the chesterfield. He was in a foul mood. It had been five days since his guests had left. For five days he had been bombarded by her presence with no respite. He could not escape her ... her laughter, her scent, her voice seemed to hunt him down to the nethermost parts of the house. There had been some alleviation when the house was full of people-then at least he had been preoccupied with the subtle game of avoiding Caroline Bingley and the Misses whatever their names were. On the down side, he had been possessed by jealousy anytime another man had paid too much attention to her and had been forced to listen to her sing every evening. He raked his hands through his hair in frustration. How could he have gotten himself into this mess? An infatuation with the governess! He wanted to laugh and then strangle something! Yet there was no denying he wanted her. Yes, he wanted her. He sank into an armchair and leaned his head back, closing his eyes briefly in the firelight. The sound of her voice came involuntarily, and even the memory of it intoxicated him. It was a dangerous weapon; winding around him and through him, unravelling his carefully erected barricades, causing his senses to betray his reason. He understood exactly what Fitzwilliam had meant when he said she made him want to give up his inheritance ...And that is precisely what is at stake. He jerked himself out of the armchair and looked around, willing himself to find some distraction. His surveyed the rows of books flickering in the firelight, his eye falling at last upon a book jutting from the shelf. He walked over and picked it up. Milton, Paradise Lost. He smiled, remembering the argument they had had about it the other day.

"Certainly, I agree that it is incredible in its scope and artistry. But Milton was wrong in his portrayal of Eve," she had asserted then looked at him, daring him to contradict her.

"What have you against her?" he had asked. "I thought it seemed remarkably accurate." He smiled in guilty remembrance of how he had taunted her, just to see her eyes flash at him in the way he found so irresistible. He had not been disappointed.

"That is precisely what all men think. It gives them great satisfaction to reduce a woman's sole virtue to physical beauty," she had said.

"And yet, if Milton's Eve was intended to represent the general follies and virtues of your sex, what did he say that was undeserved? For I would wager that most women of my acquaintance value their physical beauty over their intellectual capabilities."

"If that is indeed the case, Mr. Darcy, it is because the men of our society have taught them to do so!" She had begun to be slightly irritated, and leaning towards him, had said provocatively, "Either that or your circle happens to contain a high percentage of very silly women!"

"Miss Bennet, I highly doubt that the main topic of conversation in any sitting-room-even in Hertfordshire-consists of philosophical debate rather than the latest fashion. Come, you cannot deny it."

"And it is men like you who would lock us in our sitting-rooms and deny us any opportunity to improve!" She had stood in disgust, but he caught her wrist as she prepared to storm past him.

"Miss Bennet, wait!" She had paused then, her beautiful eyes gazing at him in arch defiance. "I agree with you," he had said guiltily, then watched in fascination as her face, which was incapable of expressing other than what she felt, turned from irritation to confusion, and finally disbelief.

"Mr. Darcy, are you teasing me?" she had said with raised eyebrows.

"Forgive me," he said, unable to resist smiling broadly. She pursed her lips in an unsuccessful attempt to keep from returning his smile as she sat down.

"You oughtn't to provoke me, Mr. Darcy. I may become violent. " They had both laughed. Georgiana had watched the exchange with much interest, and Darcy berated himself for once again giving into the temptation of her company. He was forced to go riding for two hours to escape when he should have been in his study going over his accounts. But that was not the only time he had willfully sought her company. His steps seemed to direct him to her of their own volition. Not that it was difficult to explain why. Being in her presence was like drinking an elixir, a fine wine. It was pure intoxication. He thought guiltily of the walks on which he had accompanied Georgiana and Elizabeth, justifying it by saying he would never be tempted to give Miss Bennet undue attention in the company of his sister. But Georgiana, that little minx! -had developed a propensity to frequently disappear in pursuit of some wild daisies, or to talk to the gardener or some other nonsensical thing, leaving him strolling around the park alone with Miss Bennet! He thought back to one conversation they had had. Georgiana had disappeared, as usual, leaving the two of them awkwardly alone. They had walked along the shaded path for some time in silence, he vacillating between self-censure and the pleasure of her hand on his arm. He was always acutely aware when she touched him. It yielded a kind of potent pleasure he dreaded and yet yearned for. As they walked he had glanced down at her face, and noted the peculiar blend of wistful sadness that was often expressed there. His heart moved within him; he was possessed by an overwhelming urge to take her in his arms and comfort her. Instead, he gently asked,

"Tell me about your family, Miss Bennet." She had looked up at him and smiled briefly.

"What would you like to know, Mr. Darcy?"

"How many sisters do you have exactly? And do they all reside in Middlesex?"

"I have four sisters, in spite of the Admiral's belief that I have seven. All but two now reside with my mother in Middlesex. The eldest Jane, and the second youngest, Kitty, are now in London staying with Mrs. Jennings."

"I believe you are originally from Hertfordshire?"

"Yes, that is where I grew up. We have only moved to Middlesex within the past year."

"I see." Darcy had stopped there, unwilling to force the disclosure of private family matters.

Elizabeth continued, "The reason for the relocation was the sale of the family estate, which was required to pay the debts incurred upon my father's death."

"I am sorry, Miss Bennet!" he had said in concern. "I was not aware that you had lost your father so recently."

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy. Although it has been a painful transition for us, our loss is not as great as some. At least I have not had to experience the loss of both parents, as you have." To his amazement, she had turned to him then, her face full of concern for his past suffering.

"The greater extent of another's suffering does not lessen the pain of one's own. Nor am I convinced that your suffering has been less than mine. While it is true that I have experienced the loss of both parents, I was not forced from my home as you were, nor was I forced to seek employment in the house of strangers, torn from the society of loved ones when their presence and healing was most needed. I am exceedingly sorry, Miss Bennet!" he declared with feeling. His admiration for this remarkable woman suddenly increased ten-fold. They were both silent for a moment, and Elizabeth seemed not unaffected by his words.

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy, it is most kind of you! But it is not quite as bad as that, for I have been blessed in the separation from my dear family with the companionship of one who has become equally as dear to me. Georgiana..." she had hesitated, "has brought healing that did not come even in the presence of my closest family. I can assure you, sir, that whatever good I have been able to affect in her has been reciprocated twice as much in me." She had been silent then, and embarrassed at the personal nature of her disclosure. Luckily Georgiana had reappeared then, and they had turned back to the house. Georgiana had prattled on, not noticing the silence of the other two-Elizabeth, undoubtedly out of embarrassment, and he because of the powerful feeling that was generating in his breast toward her.

Darcy stared into the flames of his darkened library. His mind went to another incident that had occurred in the library earlier that day. He had been out with his steward, determined to avoid her all day, and had returned only to retrieve something from the library-he could not even recall what it was anymore. As he opened the door, he was accosted by the sight of Miss Bennet standing alone in the corner with a rather startled look on her face.

"Miss Bennet!" he had said in surprise.

"Mr. Darcy," she replied in some discomposure. "I did not expect you. I will leave you to your library at once, sir."

"May I be of any service to you, Miss Bennet?"

"Oh, I simply came to get a book for Georgiana. It is of little consequence," she said hastily.

"Were you unable to find the book?" he asked, noting her empty hands.

"Oh, no, it is here, it is just that, well, I cannot reach it," she said, flushing apologetically. He had smiled and made his way over to her.

"Which one is it?" he asked. She pointed to a book in the corner a few feet over her head.

"The green one, Lives by Plutarch." He knew he should not have, but almost in spite of himself he stood behind her so that she could not easily move, and reached up to take the book. He had not touched her, but he had stood close enough that a slight move on either part would have brought them in contact. He had been overcome with a desire then to run his hand down her slender arm, to feel the smooth skin of her neck and shoulders under his lips, to feel her tiny waist again in his hands! He pulled the dusty green book off the shelf and wordlessly handed it to her.

"Thank you," she had said breathlessly.

"You're welcome," he had replied softly, his breath sending curls dancing around her ear. He had spent the day with his steward, not that it had done any good. His mind circled on itself, refusing to allow him to push her memory away. Every time he attempted to concentrate on something, she would intrude on his thoughts. He could see her now before him, the willowy grace of her form, the thick golden curls caressing her white neck, her eyes, as intelligent as they were beautiful, her perfect lips...

"Good grief!" Darcy spoke aloud into the room. He shoved the book back onto the shelf and stalked over to the table containing a decanter of brandy. He poured a small glass and emptied its contents in one movement. The contents burned down his throat and caressed the knot of frustration in his stomach. Grabbing the decanter, he made his way back to the armchair and pressed his pulsing temples. He knew he was in danger. Elizabeth Bennet-he couldn't have designed a woman more to his taste, he could not deny that he was falling for her in spite of himself, that although he would not admit it to himself, he probably loved her. He wondered what it would be like to have her as a wife; to come home to her delightful presence and conversation; to give in to the intoxication of her voice instead of fighting it; to discover all her secrets, to offer her his protection and care; to love her as only her husband would ever do. Darcy shook his head and took another swig of the brandy. None of that changed the reality of the situation. She was out of his reach; he would not make a mockery of himself before the world. He stared into the flames and made himself repeat, 'she is the governess' ten times.

Elizabeth kicked the blankets off her and sat up in annoyance. Down the hall she heard the faint chime of the grandfather clock.

"Two o'clock in the morning," she whispered into the darkness. She had been lying awake for four hours. Her room felt stifling in the heat, and thoughts of him restlessly dwelt in her mind. It was only in her room at night that she allowed herself to fully dwell on them, often robbing her of sleep. Was he indifferent to her? She asked herself for the hundredth time. The past week had provided her with a better context for determining his character, but with little result. His heartfelt expression of sympathy at the death of her father had moved her deeply, and had testified of the compassion and warmth that underlay his sometimes-severe exterior. She could not as yet resolve the discrepancies in his behaviour, for at times he would look at her in such a way that her heart would stop beating and her stomach would tighten; she thought she would be overcome by the intensity and warmth of his gaze, yet at other times he was aloof and indifferent, and seemed displeased or angry with her. At times it seemed he purposely sought her company and delighted in teasing her, at other times he would avoid her or speak not a word to her for the entire evening. Yet she could not perceive any particular sign of admiration in his looks. The something in his looks was surely due to her own feelings rather than his. As the days passed, she found she lived for a look, a word, a conversation like a dog licking up crumbs from under a table. Elizabeth thought again to the moment in the library. This she could not reconcile as being due to her own imagination. He had stood so close behind her she could feel his warm breath on her bare neck and shoulders. It was impossible that it could have happened except by his express wishes, for she had made to move out of his way, but he had prevented her from it by reaching around her, blocking her path and then had spoken in a voice so low, so ... intimate. What had he said? "You're welcome."

Elizabeth groaned and sat up in bed. "This is ridiculous," she cried in anguished frustration. "The man says 'you're welcome' and I contort it into an expression of passion!" She flopped back on her bed and buried her head in a pillow. Almost unbidden came the sound of his voice again to her. She envisioned herself wrapped in his arms as he whispered words of love in the same low, passionate voice. Elizabeth sat up again, enraged at herself. She knew she had to put a stop to this obsession. She had increasing difficulty attending to Georgiana, and there had been several times when Georgiana had had to call her attention back to their study. Thankfully Georgiana had been more amused than offended at Elizabeth's absence of mind. Elizabeth felt she was caught in an endless cycle of loving him and then berating herself for loving him. She knew she should leave, that it was her duty to leave if she could not overcome her feelings, but the idea of never seeing him again was unbearable.

"I might as well read as lie here," she thought in exasperation, and flung her legs over the side of the bed. She was wearing a light sleeveless nightgown-the coolest one she owned-in an effort to overcome the heat. She grabbed a chemise, thinking she would throw it on in the unlikely event she met someone. The cool air of the hall felt good on her fevered skin as she made her way silently through the dark corridors to the library. As she slipped into the room and closed the heavy oak door gently behind her, she noticed that someone had left the remnants of a fire burning. She crackling coals cast a red glow on the dark rows of books. She made her way over to the far wall, and squinted through the dim light, hoping something would catch her interest.

A sudden noise from across the room caused her to gasp in fright. With a start she saw someone rise from a chair in front of the fire. The silhouette was dark, but she knew from the height and breadth that it could only be one person. Elizabeth stood stunned, gripping her chemise to her bosom as he paused, leaned against the chair, then slowly began to cross the room toward her. Her eyes flickered briefly over his dim appearance-he wore the trousers he had worn at dinner, but his shirt was open to his chest, and his dark hair was awry, as though he had raked his hands through it too many times. Elizabeth had never seen him other than impeccably attired. His eyes were like black pools-she recognized the look that had before frightened and confused her. Now there was no mistaking the admiration and haunted passion that diffused from his countenance.

"Elizabeth." His voice was deep and tender, just as she had imagined it would be. Elizabeth shivered involuntarily and backed against the bookshelf as he came to her. Her heart beat furiously, and she had resolved to run when he reached out suddenly and covered her hands with his own. His intense gaze held hers as he slid his hands down her arms, up her bare shoulders, then around the curve of her neck. His eyes then dropped to her lips, and he tilted her face up to meet his. Elizabeth closed her eyes in anticipation, her skin electrified at his touch. She could not move or breathe. To her surprise and wonder, when his lips finally touched hers, the sensation was gentle and infinitely tender. As he continued, his kisses increased in intensity. His mouth expertly caressed her own. She found the sensation more infinitely pleasurable than anything she had ever experienced. She sighed, dropped the chemise to the floor, and hardly knowing herself, slid her hands up his chest and around his neck.

His response was immediate. His hands dropped to her waist as he pressed her body to his. His lips became urgent. Elizabeth didn't dream of resisting as she melted into him. A flood of emotions engulfed them both as they partook of what they had so long needed and so long been denied. How long they stood entwined there, his hands sprawled on her back, his mouth demanding hers, she did not know. It ended abruptly when he pulled away, disengaged her arms from his neck and pushed her back. Darcy leaned his arm on the shelf behind her as he attempted to regain his breath. Elizabeth knew not how she remained standing, and was also grateful for the support behind her. She stared breathlessly into his eyes which were roiling with emotion. For a moment neither spoke, each struggling to regain their breath and composure.

"Leave me," he pleaded at last. Elizabeth fled, willing her knees, which felt like collapsing, to carry her out of the library into the dark.

Chapter 12

Posted on Thursday, 19 May 2005

The next morning she awoke late, having fallen asleep at long last. She felt groggy and strange. When the memory of the previous night fully dawned on her, she froze in her bed.

"He kissed me," she said in shock. She touched her lips with her hand, where his lips had been, as the feelings of the previous night washed over her. Her heart stopped again as she recalled the feel of his hands on her waist, caressing her back, his lips on her mouth. It had been like heaven. She shook her head. It had been more than a simple kiss ... it had been an expression of barely contained passion. The full weight of shame and guilt descended upon her.

"I cannot face him," she whispered. "What must he think of me?" The cognition of what had occurred between them paralyzed her. She wished she could sink into the earth. How would her conduct appear to him? The governess shows up in his library in the dead of night in a scanty nightgown and throws herself willingly into his arms. Of course he had not restrained himself, what man would? He must consider it a deliberate offer on her part. And yet he had shown himself to be the honourable one, by asking her to leave. Elizabeth made a strangled cry of shame and frustration. Of course she knew that she had not intentionally sought him out, that her designs, although easily misinterpreted, especially considering what had happened, had nonetheless been innocent, and that, even if he had not asked her to leave first, she would have left eventually of her own volition. Or would she? Elizabeth struggled within herself. She had felt almost powerless against the strength of his embrace. Perhaps such feelings were proof of her true nature. Perhaps she was in essence, if not in fact, a fallen woman. Tears came unbidden to her eyes, and an inexpressible pain pierced her heart. Elizabeth wiped her tears and miserably concluded that, whatever her state, she had certainly proven to him that she was no lady.

She knew that she would have to leave; today, if possible. The thought of wounding Georgiana brought on another bout of tears, but, as she told herself, this was the result of her own actions. I have done enough damage with my foolishness, it is time to act as I should, regardless of the costs. If I had not fallen in love with Mr. Darcy, this would never have happened. How could she have prevented her falling in love with him? She shrugged. She did not know, and it was too late to think of that now.

Her resolve concerning him was firm, although she dreaded the confrontation. She thought he might feel an obligation to marry her, and if that was the case, there was no doubt that she must refuse him. She could imagine nothing more horrible than trapping Darcy into matrimony against his will. She knew the expectations of a man of his class and wealth regarding marriage, and she would not stand in the way of it for the world. She did not expect that he would protest her demand to leave as soon as possible, but if he did, she was prepared to stand firm at all costs. She quickly dressed, arranged her hair, and went in search of Mr. Darcy.

In far too brief a time, she found herself standing without the door of his study, where she had been informed he had been all morning. She paused, and could feel herself shaking. She thought she might be sick. However, she knew she had to face him sooner than later, and it might as well be now. After a deep breath, she held her chin up and knocked.

"Come in," the familiar bass voice resonated. When she entered, Darcy, who had been writing at his desk, dropped his pen and silently came around to close the door behind her.

"Miss Bennet," he said quietly, "Please, have a seat."

Elizabeth, however, shook her head and merely walked to the other side of the room. She could not meet his eye or face him directly, so great was her embarrassment. He intuited that she did not wish him to speak, and so remained silent.

"Mr. Darcy, I have come to inform you that I intend to resign. I would like to leave as soon as possible-today, even." Elizabeth's voice was barely above that of a whisper.

Darcy looked at her. "Because of last night?" he inquired softly. Elizabeth felt the heat of her cheeks burning.

"I had intended to resign some time ago, but had originally planned to wait until after the ball to inform you. What happened last night ... has made my resignation imperative." Elizabeth closed her eyes in mortification.

"I see ... and do you mind telling me what caused you to wish to resign in the first place?" Darcy stood before her, earnestly searching her face.

"Please do not ask me," she whispered and turned her face away from him. He sighed deeply and walked to the window.

"Miss Bennet, I confess I did not expect anything less than your offer for resignation. Now let me speak. I am fully prepared to act honourably by you. My behaviour to you last night-"

"Please stop, Mr. Darcy!" Elizabeth cried desperately. "I forbid you to offer a word of apology. Nothing would induce me to marry you. I beg you to allow me some dignity in my resignation, especially after my shameful conduct. I assure you it was not my intention to force you into matrimony!"

"Do you blame yourself for me kissing you?" Darcy asked incredulously.

"Of course," came the hurt reply. Darcy knew not whether to laugh or shake her.

"First of all, that is ridiculous," he said evenly. "A man cannot be forced to kiss a woman if he does not desire it, I don't care if they happen to show up in his library in the middle of the night. You will not take responsibility for my breach of conduct! I am obviously not to be trusted with you. As you refuse to resolve this through matrimony, I must agree that your removal is necessary. I will of course do everything I can to secure another position for you. However, I do not think it crucial for you to leave today. In fact, I would ask you to stay until after the ball." He held up his hand as she began to protest. "There are more people involved than just you and me," he said. "I must think of Georgiana. I am very reluctant to interrupt an arrangement that has been so beneficial to her..." he paused. "Unfortunately, circumstances dictate otherwise. Miss Bennet, will you consider staying three more weeks? You know Georgiana will not go to the ball without your escort. She has been anticipating it for so long, and I hesitate to deliver two such disappointing blows."

Elizabeth hesitated. "I am also concerned for Georgiana's welfare, sir, but considering all that has passed, I do not think it wise for me to remain here any longer."

"Miss Bennet, I would not ask you to remain under the same roof as myself another night. If you will agree to stay, I will depart for London this very afternoon, and remain there until you and Georgiana join me in three weeks time."

Elizabeth wavered. Despite her resolve, she did not think she could refuse such a request, especially considering that leaving Georgiana so abruptly might be detrimental to her young friend.

"Very well, Mr. Darcy, I shall stay."

"Thank you," he said and looked at her for a moment until she flushed and lowered her eyes. "Miss Bennet, I hope that after you leave, you will retain a correspondence with Georgiana. It would be a great honour for her." Elizabeth replied in some surprise,

"Of course, Mr. Darcy, I would be delighted." Mr. Darcy said nothing, only continued to look at her with the same enigmatic expression in his handsome face. Elizabeth begged to be excused. His request for her to continue her acquaintance with Georgiana filled her with confusion. She could not be insensible to the honour of it, especially considering the light she had showed herself the previous night. That he would wish for a woman who had proved herself once and for all to be no lady at all to continue an acquaintance with his only sister was incredible. Could it be he truly did not blame her for what had happened? That the kiss had not lessened her in his esteem? She felt it was impossible that it could not, and yet, it seemed more impossible that he would desire someone not respectable to befriend his sister. She shook her head in bewilderment as she made her way to her chamber. The man made no more sense now than he had at their first encounter! Never had she met someone more impossible to comprehend.

Chapter 13

Posted on Thursday, 19 May 2005

Elizabeth was grateful that Georgiana's excitement about the coming ball distracted her for the most part from perceiving Elizabeth's depressed spirits. She could not bring herself to tell Georgiana that she was leaving, and so continually put it off. Georgiana's excitement over the coming ball grew with each day and Elizabeth was loath to ruin her anticipation. Elizabeth did her best to appear cheerful and normal during the day, but she found it increasingly difficult with the realization that in a very short time she would likely never see Georgiana or her brother again. Furthermore, Pemberley without its master seemed bleak and empty indeed. Each room where she had been used to seeing him or had conversed with him was desolate and joyless now. However, she refused to ruin her last days with Georgiana. Every moment with her young friend was precious to her. She could not laugh, but she bravely put on a smile for her sake. It was only at night that she indulged herself in tears of anguish.

Her thoughts regarding Darcy were painful, to say the least. She knew she loved him irrevocably. She had given her heart, and it was impossible to withdraw it now. She mourned the fact that the man she had come to love would never belong to her; that in time, he would undoubtedly marry another woman. Her heart whispered to her that under different circumstances, she could have been that woman. She knew now that he must be attracted to her, for although largely inexperienced with men, it did not seem likely that he could have kissed her in such a way if he was not. She envisioned it through her tears-her father still healthy, the whole family happily installed at Longbourn, the season in London where she would have become acquainted with Darcy on an equal social standing. That he was attracted to her seemed incontestable, for although inexperienced with men, she somehow knew that Darcy could not have kissed her the way he had unless he had a strong attraction to her. She could not help think that if perhaps if she had met him before the recent fall in her station and situation she could have won his affections as well as his desires. She realized now that the day of the picnic, when he had spoken so adamantly about adhering to reason in matters of passion, had been as much for his benefit as for hers. Perhaps if her father had never become ill, the estate was still healthy, they could have met in London, fallen in love, and she would have been the mistress of this house, instead of the degraded governess. Elizabeth chided herself on such fruitless meditation as new found tears of longing for her home, for Jane, and especially for her father made their marks down her cheeks as they had not done for many months. This new trial opened old wounds that had not yet healed completely, and the pain and desolation of her heart seemed unbearable. She had lost her father, her home, had suffered the separation of her sisters and the degradation of a lowered social status, and now she was to lose the only man she had ever loved. The suffering she endured those three weeks was acute, and therefore it was with relief that the end of the third week approached. A change of scene will do me good, she thought. The knowledge of soon being reunited with her dear Jane also served to give some comfort.

It was not until a few days before their departure that Elizabeth found the courage to tell Georgiana. The day had been a busy one, full of preparation for the coming ball, and they were taking their tea later than usual in the conservatory. The late afternoon sun reflected off the pink flowers, making the air rosy and intimate. The women were inclined at first to sip their tea in companionable silence rather than speak. At last Georgiana looked anxiously over her china tea cup and said,

"Elizabeth, forgive me if I intrude, but I cannot help but think there has been something bothering you of late. Will you not confide in me?"

"Oh, Georgiana, I have tried to conceal my sad spirits from you, but I see I have ill succeeded. It is just as well you have brought it up, because I have lacked the courage to tell you..." Elizabeth stopped and looked mournfully at Georgiana. Her heart swelled with sorrow and she found herself unable to speak. Georgiana's eyes widened. She placed her cup back in its saucer.

"Elizabeth, are you trying to tell me that you are ... are you leaving?" Georgiana whispered. Elizabeth's only answer was a single tear sliding slowly down her cheek.

"Don't cry ... I think I already knew," replied Georgiana, as the tears welled up and spilled down her own cheeks. She moved to sit beside Elizabeth on the love seat, where they embraced through their tears.

"I am so sorry, I should have told you before," said Elizabeth.

"When will you leave?"

"After the ball," replied Elizabeth. "My sister Jane will be in town, and I will return with them."

"Must you leave?" asked Georgiana in desperation. Elizabeth gave a small nod through her tears.

"I'm afraid it is absolutely necessary."

"But why?"

Elizabeth hesitated. Her heart longed to unburden itself, but how to tell Georgiana she had fallen in love with her brother?

"Does it have anything to do with Fitzwilliam?" Georgiana looked earnestly at Elizabeth, who blushed deeply and turned away.

"Never mind," Georgiana said hastily, "you needn't tell me. I shan't press you. I know what it is like to have a secret." Elizabeth looked up immediately, her eyes intent on Georgiana's face. Georgiana continued, "As you cannot tell me yours , I hope you do not mind if I take this chance to tell you mine. It has been pressing on me for some time, and I want you to know before you leave."

Elizabeth took Georgiana's hand in her own and waited. "Go ahead, dear, I'm listening." Georgiana took a deep breath.

"Last summer, I was attending a school in Ramsgate under the supervision of a Mrs. Young. There was a young man there whom I had known since I was a child, whose name I cannot bear to even speak now. My heart was so vulnerable, I was lonely and homesick; of course, I know that is no excuse for what I did. I am so ashamed of myself!" Georgiana paused. "You see, he persuaded me to elope with him. Fitzwilliam arrived just in time to save me from disgracing myself, thank goodness! What I do not owe him! It turns out that he was only after my fortune after all. I see now how foolishly I behaved, and it has robbed me of peace of mind for a long time-until you came, and I felt ... healed, somehow." Georgiana hesitated, "Elizabeth, tell me honestly, do you despise me for it? Do you still wish to be my friend?"

"Of course! Nothing you could do could make me stop loving you ... I only hope you do not blame yourself. You were so young, and what fifteen-year old is inured to such a situation? Remember, I have been fifteen before, and know well what a confusing time it is. As it is, your only regrets can be what would have happened if your brother had not saved you, which is much more palatable. It is no sin, however painful the experience, to fall in love." Elizabeth could not help colouring slightly as she said this. She did not care to acknowledge that the advice she had just given Georgiana could apply in her own case as well. Georgiana smiled.

"I am so glad I told you. I feel a weight has been taken off my shoulders. I hope you will write to me when you are gone?"

"I would be delighted," Elizabeth replied. "It would be much too great a sacrifice to give up your friendship."

"I cannot believe you will be leaving me in a few days," said Georgiana sadly. "How I shall miss you! But let's not ruin our few days together. In fact, let us pretend that we are sisters, and that you are going to stay forever!"

Elizabeth smiled gratefully.

"Very well. We shall giggle and flutter just as two women with an approaching ball ought. Would you like to sing duets after supper?"

"I would be delighted!" was Georgiana's reply.

Chapter 14

Posted on Thursday, 19 May 2005

She and Georgiana relished every moment they had. Georgiana's spirits were more elevated than Elizabeth's, as she would often forget to be melancholy in anticipation of the ball. Despite Elizabeth's breaking heart, the days passed quickly, and soon she found herself with Georgiana ascending the steps of the Darcy's townhouse in London. Her heart beat furiously as the moment approached that she would come face to face with him. She prayed that she would not betray her agitation, or that his keen eye would somehow fail to notice it. He was there to greet them in the front hall. Elizabeth felt rather confused and dizzy through it all. She heard his step, as sure and masculine as ever, she thought he kissed Georgiana, she recalled him looking at her and hearing her name on his lips, she thought he looked at her a little longer than usual, then it was over. She was shown to her room, a very elegant one, she was surprised to find. She highly doubted a governess had ever slept in this room. It was richly decorated in maroon and gold, with dark woods and Persian rugs.

The ball was to be the following evening. Jane had been contacted. Mrs. Jennings and her party were to attend an assembly ball the same evening, and it had been arranged for Elizabeth to join them the following morning.

Dinner that night was a quiet affair. Elizabeth found herself uncharacteristically shy around Darcy. He also seemed inclined to silence, and when he did speak, there was an edge in his usually calm accents which intimidated Georgiana, and so the meal passed with only stilted attempts at conversation. After dinner, all three of them retired to their rooms in relief. Elizabeth fell asleep at long last, only to dream she was at the ball dressed in rags, dancing circles around Mr. Darcy, who refused to acknowledge her. Both Georgiana and Elizabeth slept late the following morning. Elizabeth awoke to Georgiana knocking on her door.

"Good morning, dear," said Elizabeth sleepily. As Georgiana climbed onto the bed, she noticed her peaked features and white complexion. "Are you ill, Georgiana?"

"I do not think I can go to the ball, Elizabeth," Georgiana whispered. "I feel horrible." Elizabeth sat up and peered at Georgiana.

"You look very pale, indeed. Let me feel your forehead...yes, you have a fever." Elizabeth rose and helped Georgiana to her feet. "We must get you to bed immediately. I shall have an apothecary called." Elizabeth wrapped a blanket around Georgiana's shivering shoulders and led her back to her room with great concern.

An apothecary was immediately sent for, and Georgiana was diagnosed as having contracted a severe cold-nothing serious, but she must remain in bed. The ball was now out of the question. Elizabeth sat by Georgiana's bed, wiping her fevered brow.

"Elizabeth..."

"Shh, don't talk, dear," Elizabeth hushed.

"Elizabeth, you must go to the ball," Georgiana intoned weakly.

"Go to the ball? I wouldn't dream of it! I am not leaving you in such a state!"

"I insist that you go. You should not have to stay home simply because I have a cold."

"What pleasure could I derive from going to a ball knowing that you were sick in bed? I shall certainly not go. Besides, it would not do for a governess to go without her charge."

Georgiana forced herself upright. Her face was flushed with sickness, but set in determination.

"Elizabeth Bennet, I order you to go! If you do not, I shall...run outside until I catch pneumonia and die!" Elizabeth exclaimed in incredulity and concern at this declaration. She was attempting to make Georgiana lie back down when Darcy knocked and entered. Elizabeth inwardly cursed his untimely appearance, as well as her heart, which would accelerate every time he entered the room.

"Georgiana, I beg you to lie down and be reasonable!" she cried. Darcy approached the bed and took Georgiana's hand.

"Is Georgiana being unreasonable?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. At his urging Georgiana laid back on the bed, but she did not relinquish her case.

"Fitzwilliam, you must make Elizabeth go to the ball, for she says she will not...and I promise to die of pneumonia if she does not!" Both Darcy and Elizabeth looked at Georgiana in astonishment.

"Miss Bennet, what have you done with my sister?" Darcy jested.

"Fitzwilliam..." Georgiana pleaded.

"It looks as though I may have to entreat you to attend, Miss Bennet," Darcy said in amusement. "It seems Georgiana's life depends upon it."

"In which case she leaves me little choice, although why she will die if I do not attend I should very much like to know..." Elizabeth's eyes upbraided Georgiana, who smiled triumphantly and relaxed onto her pillow.

"You must come and show yourself to me when you are ready," she said weakly. Elizabeth rose with a sigh of resignation.

"Very well, but you must promise me not to move from your bed!"

"I promise."

Elizabeth looked at Darcy apologetically and excused herself. A few minutes later found her at her desk furiously writing a note to Jane. What could Georgiana mean, forcing her to attend? Did she not see what an awkward situation she had placed her in? It was unusual for Georgiana to be so adamant about anything, never mind this! One thing was certain-it was impossible for her to arrive at a family ball alone with Darcy. The very thought of him arriving with the governess on his arm made her cringe in embarrassment. How would it appear to his family, his friends, to the ton! And how mortifying to be the cause of his mortification! Elizabeth hastily folded the letter, which contained a request to Jane that she be allowed to attend the assembly ball with their party. She presented it to the butler, requesting it be delivered as soon as possible, and then sat in agitation for the rest of the morning until a missive from Jane arrived. Jane was of course delighted at the change of plans, although expressing regret at Miss Darcy's illness. It was arranged that Mrs. Jenning's carriage would collect Elizabeth at seven that evening. Elizabeth pressed the note to her breast and breathed a sigh of relief.

She then went in determined search of Mr. Darcy, whom she encountered at long last in the billiards room. Elizabeth entered rather abruptly, not expecting to find him there. She coloured upon seeing him. He was leaning over the table, his coat having been abandoned earlier. He stood immediately when she entered.

"Miss Bennet! Can I be of service to you?"

"Excuse me for interrupting, Mr. Darcy. I have come to inform you that I will be attending the assembly ball tonight with my sister and her party. I know I promised Georgiana I would attend a ball this evening, and I am sure you will agree with me that this arrangement will be infinitely more preferable to the previous, as it will spare you the mortification of appearing with me alone at your aunt and uncle's tonight." Elizabeth paused to catch her breath. Darcy said nothing, only with a slight clench of his jaw leaned over the table and with a loud crack sent balls scurrying in every direction. Elizabeth wanted to stamp her foot impatiently, but contented herself with tightening her fists in silent indignation at his prolonged silence. At last he turned to her.

"Is that all, Miss Bennet?" he asked sarcastically.

"Yes, that is all, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth replied icily, surprised and offended at his tone.

"Well then, I wish you the utmost success tonight. May your dance card be filled with the most eligible men the assembly ball has to offer," he said, bowing exaggeratedly. Elizabeth gasped furiously, glared at him, then whirled around and left without a word. As she pushed closed the door, she heard another loud crack of billiard balls. How dare he? She fumed. How dare he insult me? How could he taunt me so, when he knows my chances for a good match are so slight? How could he throw back into my face the unlikelihood of my dancing at all, when I have spared him the mortification of appearing alone with me? Elizabeth could not prevent tears of anger from brimming in her eyes as she entered her room. She sat unmoving on her bed for several minutes and allowed them to course down her face. And is that how I am to remember him? If he only knew what a kind word from him means to me, and now to part with an insult! I know he will never love me, but would a gracious parting be too much to ask? Elizabeth felt at that moment as though her burdens were heavy indeed-too heavy to bear. It is well that I leave tonight, she thought. My heart cannot sustain this torture any longer. A knock at the door interrupted her.

"Who is it?" she called, hastily brushing the tears from her eyes. Georgiana's maid entered shyly.

"Miss Darcy sent me to ask if you would be needing any assistance to get ready for the ball, Miss Bennet."

"Thank you, Marianne, your help would be lovely."

"I shall have your bath drawn." She curtsied and disappeared. Elizabeth pursed her lips and walked to the window, which overlooked a delightful garden at the rear of the house. Her tears now spent, she rallied her spirits in defence of Darcy's taunt. And why shouldn't my dance card be filled with eligible bachelors, Mr. Darcy? Perhaps I am only a poor governess now, but I was once admired by the most eligible men the season had to offer. I may have lost my fortune, but I trust I have not lost all my charms! With these thoughts Elizabeth set herself to the task of her toilette. She reread the note from Jane, and found additional comfort in the short missive which still conveyed Jane's own sweetness and steadiness. Even if the ball will not offer me any pleasure, seeing Jane will make up for such a miserable day, she admonished herself in the mirror as Marianne arranged her masses of blonde curls high on her head.

At precisely 6:50 pm she stood before the full-length mirror and gasped. It had been a long time since she had devoted so much attention to her appearance, and she had to admit the effect was stunning. The dress was a silky, shimmery white. It draped elegantly over her figure, making her look at once long and willowy, but also accentuated her curves. The small sleeves showed off her shapely arms and long neck, which was laid bare by her hair arranged in a decorated coiffeur atop her head. She surveyed herself for a moment, and was reminded of the Elizabeth Bennet she had used to be. Thick-lashed eyes, almond and blue, looked intelligently at her under delicately arched brows, high cheekbones flushed in anticipation, red lips, the white skin of her décolletage shown to the greatest advantage. When she walked, the material shimmered and clung to her form, shimmering provocatively. Elizabeth suddenly felt self-conscious of her beauty.

"Marianne, I can't possibly wear this!" she panicked. "See how it clings to me! I feel far too conspicuous."

"Ay, Miss, you're a beautiful woman to be sure. There won't be a lady willing to stand up next to you, or a man unwilling, for that matter. But if you don't mind my saying, you haven't time to change, for your carriage is due to arrive this instant." Elizabeth had to acknowledge this was true. She took one last look at herself, and wondered how he would respond if he could see her. A feeling of giddy warmth spread through her. Remembering his insult, she lifted her head haughtily. Let him see that she was beautiful and suffer-it would be some consolation. With newfound determination she went to say goodbye to Georgiana.

"Oh, Elizabeth," Georgiana breathed as she entered. "You look like a princess or a Greek goddess ... like Aphrodite."

Elizabeth smiled.

"Let us hope I don't behave like one."

"Marianne, fetch my diamond choker and earrings for Miss Bennet. Will you wear them, Elizabeth? Then at least part of me may attend the ball with you. Of course, if you'd rather not..."

"I would be honoured," Elizabeth replied, taking Georgiana's hand. "It will give me just the courage I need to face the ton." After the jewellery was in place, the girls said a fond goodbye, with Elizabeth promising to come back and see her as long as she was in London, and to write after her removal. As Elizabeth made her way to the main stairwell, her stomach was a flutter of butterflies lest she run into Darcy. She knew not whether she desired it or feared it more.

As she moved to the top of the stars, it seemed she would indeed leave without a final exchange with him, as there was nobody to be seen. However, before she had descended three steps, his unmistakable footstep was heard. Darcy himself appeared on the landing, looking as handsome as the devil in black evening wear, his white cravat starkly contrasting with his dark good looks. He stopped abruptly at the sight of Elizabeth. She blushed and tried desperately to summon some remnant of composure, but it seemed impossible as he silently watched her descend. He continued to say nothing until she had reached the bottom, his dark eyes glittering enigmatically at her as he took in a full perusal of her appearance. She knew her colour was high, and could not calm the nervous pounding of her heart. Remembering the last words he had flung at her, she raised her chin.

"Good evening, Mr. Darcy," she spoke haughtily as she reached the bottom, her bright eyes looking into his in arch defiance.

"You are looking exceptionally beautiful tonight, Miss Bennet," he said provocatively with a hint of his earlier sarcasm in his voice. "May I ask who will be escorting you and your sister to the assembly?" His eyes lowered to the diamond necklace encircling her neck, and Elizabeth raised her hand to it self-consciously.

"A ... Mrs. Jennings," she managed.

"Is that all?"

"You do not approve?"

"Decidedly not."

"I assure you she is a woman of reputation and breeding, Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth said defiantly.

"It is not her reputation I was worried about, but rather her sufficiency as your escort," he replied, his dark eyes burning down into hers. Elizabeth remained silent, not knowing how to interpret or respond to this. She could not tear herself away from the intensity of his eyes. They looked silently at each other for a moment, then Darcy said, his voice still laced with sarcasm, "I suppose I should bid you adieu, Miss Bennet, as it is unlikely we will meet again. Thank you again for your services." Elizabeth inclined her head in polite acknowledgement, although her eyes flashed dangerously at him. As she reached out to shake his hand, she gasped as he stepped closer to her, and raised her gloved fingers to his lips. She gazed wide-eyed up at him, and could not prevent a tiny shiver from running down her spine at the feel of his lips on her hand-the same lips that had once touched her own. As if his mind had taken a similar turn, his eyes dropped to her slightly parted mouth. He snapped his eyes up and stepped away abruptly.

"I believe your carriage is waiting for you," he said huskily. Elizabeth glanced blankly at the darkened window. "May I escort you to your carriage?"

"Thank you, but I'm sure I can manage," Elizabeth began.

"Miss Bennet, I insist," he said in the domineering way she was so familiar with. He tucked her hand through his arm and led her to the carriage. Elizabeth, her emotions heightened, allowed him to lead her to the carriage and hand her in. She looked back once to meet his gaze before distractedly attending to the reunions and introductions awaiting her.

Chapter 15

Posted on Thursday, 19 May 2005

Kitty, Jane, and a woman she knew must be Mrs. Jennings were all within the carriage. After hugging her sisters, and all exclaiming on how well the others looked, she was introduced to her. Mrs. Jennings was a stout, rich widow. She presented a picture exactly fitted to the one Elizabeth had imagined, and Elizabeth wasn't surprised when she dominated the conversation.

"So you've been the governess for Mr. Darcy's younger sister, have you, Miss Elizabeth? And how did you find the young lady? I daresay you were very lucky to fall into that position, for it is well known that Mr. Darcy is highly protective of his young sister. I am sure you are aware that he is the sole guardian, since the death of his parents. I was not acquainted with them, but they certainly left him with a fine inheritance. Ten thousand a year! And very likely more." Mrs. Jennings clucked her tongue in disapproval. "He is certainly the man every young debutante bats her lashes at, and I am sure I know a hundred mamas who are determined to see their daughter mistress of his estate in Derbyshire. I suppose you didn't go and fall in love with him, did you, Miss Elizabeth?" Mrs. Jennings chortled at her own joke. "He is quite an irresistible man, although perhaps he does not have the manners of our Mr. Bingley, does he now, Miss Bennet? Such a charming man! So affable! And so taken with our Miss Bennet!"

"Mr. Bingley!" exclaimed Elizabeth. "Does he by any chance have two sisters, one a Mrs. Hurst?"

"The very one!" replied Mrs. Jennings. "Are you acquainted with him, Miss Eliza?"

"Only a little. He was a guest at Pemberley for a short time. I was very impressed with him, however."

"He is worth five thousand a year," added Kitty.

"We have only made his acquaintance a week ago," said Jane apologetically.

"Aye, but many a woman has secured a proposal in that length of time," teased Mrs. Jennings. "I would not put it past you, Jane, you are looking very well tonight!" Elizabeth and Jane exchanged sympathetic glances, but were forced to postpone any confidences until later for Mrs. Jennings continued on without ceasing until they reached their destination. As they made their way through the maze of horses and people, Elizabeth was struck with a strong feeling of trepidation. The last time she had attended something like this, she had been a young debutante. How would she be received now?

"Do not worry Lizzy, I have found people to be very gracious in spite of the loss of our fortune," Jane whispered encouragingly, having noticed the anxiety on her sister's face.

"And yet how aggravating that the whole world should know it, that they should be privy to our affairs! But let us not speak of it. Tell me about Mr. Bingley? Is it true he has taken a fancy to you?"

Jane blushed modestly. "He does seem to give me a good deal of attention, and asked me to dance twice at the last ball. I am not as sure of his preference as Mrs. Jennings."

"Do you like him?" Elizabeth inquired.

"I confess I am not ... entirely indifferent to him. Oh, Lizzy! Don't smile at me like that!"

"Well, if you do like him, or even if you are not entirely indifferent to him, you have my full approval. I think he is a perfect gentleman, and was impressed by his open manners at Pemberley."

"He is just what a young man ought to be! Open, warm, polite, attentive-"

"Handsome, rich..."

"Lizzy..." Jane attempted to give her sister a disapproving look, but soon the two were in giggles.

As the party was announced, Elizabeth glanced around the room. Nothing had changed. She noted rather distastefully the glitter of costume, the noise of superficial conversation, the well-defined social circles. She was surprised that many people stopped to stare as they descended into the throng. If she could have seen the picture she and Jane presented, she would have understood. She and her sister created a vision of unusual beauty. Jane's dark hair, pale blue gown and sweetness of expression contrasted magnificently with Elizabeth, whose eyes proudly and defiantly surveyed the room. There was no denying the two sisters were among the most elegant females in the room, although fortune-less. Elizabeth caught sight of Miss Bingley among the crowd. Their eyes met briefly, but Miss Bingley turned away disdainfully.

The sisters followed Mrs. Jennings as she trundled through the room, stopping frequently to introduce them to several of her acquaintance. It was not long before the dance cards began to fill up. Elizabeth watched with great interest as Mr. Bingley approached their party to request the hand of Jane for two dances. She watched the exchange between her sister and Mr. Bingley, and was pleased to see that they were very much in a way to fall in love with each other. Elizabeth danced first with a Mr. Churchill, then a Mr. Darlington. They were handsome, elegant men, and it gave Elizabeth some relief to her feelings to receive their attentions and admiring glances, just as she had been used to. However, as the evening whirled on and she danced with one man after another, she noticed that the attention she received was very different from what she had received as a young debutante. She tried to push the unwelcome ideas from her mind and enjoy the night, but it became increasingly obvious that the men who sought her hand were older, with reputations that bordered on respectability. Many of them were married, they were all rich, and they all had a gleam in their eye that reminded her of Lord Dartmore. She began to find the conversation distasteful, and wearied of maintaining her distance in the careful bantering of fashionable conversation. After dancing the quadrille with a Lord Westing, she begged to sit out the next dance, protesting she was weary. As Lord Westing escorted her to Mrs. Jenning's party, Elizabeth paled as she noted the crowd parted on either side of her. The women stared and turned away with contemptuous glances, leaving a trail of whispering behind her. The men either turned away coldly, or stared at her with unmistakable lewdness. When they had reached Mrs. Jennings, Elizabeth was in a state of shock. She waved Lord Westing away distractedly to get her some refreshment, and turned immediately to Mrs. Jennings.

"Mrs. Jennings," she began in strained accents, "perhaps you can tell me why the entire assembly is staring at me so contemptuously."

Mrs. Jennings fidgeted nervously with her bracelets. "Are they dear? I am sure you are wrong. If they are, it is because the ladies are simply jealous, for you are looking very pretty tonight."

Elizabeth looked seriously at the older woman. "Mrs. Jennings, please tell me what you know." Mrs. Jennings hemmed and hawed for a few moments, but after looking again at Elizabeth's earnest face, she motioned for the young woman to come closer to her.

"Oh, my dear Miss Bennet, I could not help but notice it soon after we had arrived, not only the way people were staring at you, but the sort of men you were attracting! Tut, tut ... and so I set myself to discovering the cause of it-I am much indebted to my friend Mrs. Smith-an endless source of information! But Miss Bennet, why don't you have a seat?"

"Mrs. Jennings, what are people saying?" Elizabeth demanded anxiously.

Mrs. Jennings leaned close to her and whispered, "I am afraid, Miss Bennet, that the rumour has gone round that you are..ah ... more than a governess for Mr. Darcy ... that you are, in fact ... his mistress." Elizabeth started and coloured. She looked wildly around the hall, then turned in shame and confusion.

"How dare they!" she choked.

Mrs. Jennings hastened to explain. "I am not certain as to how such a rumour could have started, for you are obviously nothing of the kind, but I suspect it may have something to do with Miss Bingley. This is where Mrs. Watson received her information, who then told it to Mrs. Smith, who of course relayed it to me. According to Mrs. Watson, Miss Bingley was a guest at Pemberley recently and that is how she gained knowledge of the, er, supposed arrangement. If you don't mind me saying so, you are unusually attractive, certainly too attractive to be a governess ... I know that is ridiculous, but you see it does add credence to the rumour. Then of course, the general knowledge of your loss of fortune does not seem compatible with the jewels you are wearing." Mrs. Jennings looked pointedly at the diamond choker encircling Elizabeth's neck. Elizabeth's hand flew to her neck, and she groaned. "Forgive me for saying so, my dear, but they look remarkably like the diamonds the late Mrs. Darcy wore."

"They are Georgiana's..." Elizabeth shook her head, impatient at the futility of explaining. "I do not understand why Miss Bingley would wish to tarnish Mr. Darcy's reputation as well as my own? I can scarce see how that would further her aspirations."

"Ah, well, that Mr. Darcy's reputation has been damaged by such rumours is unlikely, even while yours has been ruined completely. It is more likely that it will increase his desirability, at least in the eyes of some ladies I know! La! My dear, but if that is not the society we live in! Concerning our Miss Bingley, it is common knowledge that she has had her cap set at Mr. Darcy for a long time, but they say she received a very strong idea from that gentleman recently that she would never be mistress of Pemberley. What that entailed I can only imagine! Mrs. Watson did not know the details of that encounter, unfortunately having merely overheard it in a conversation of Lady Dartmore! Furthermore, there is the issue of your sister and Mr. Bingley," Mrs. Jennings motioned surreptitiously to where Jane and Mr. Bingley were ensconced in conversation. "Miss Bingley is determined that their union shall never happen. She does not deem that a penniless Miss Bennet is a suitable match for her brother. She has been unable to halt the relationship, although I have watched her attempts with great amusement." Mrs. Jennings chortled.

"And so she resorts to ruining my reputation," Elizabeth said in horror. "She cannot be content that our own hopes were already slim, she must make them non-existent."

Mrs. Jennings sighed and patted Elizabeth's hand. "There is no saying what a jealous, disappointed woman will not do in the desperation of her feelings." Elizabeth glanced again at Jane and Mr. Bingley, and was glad to see they were oblivious to the whirl of malicious gossip circulating. She groaned and pressed her gloved hands to her temples.

"Mrs. Jennings..."

"Miss Eliza, I refuse to take you home if that is what you are about to ask me-that would be to admit defeat! You must trust me, my dear! I have been in society for too many years! The only way to overcome this is to stay and face the ton! You must not sit out a single dance!"

Elizabeth, her cheeks flushed in humiliation, was about to ask how dancing every dance would dispel the rumours rather than perpetuate them, when she heard Mr. Darcy's name announced. She watched in horror as he appeared at the entrance and descended the stairs. She thought she had never seen him look more glorious, his tall, erect body impeccably attired, his handsome face proudly and distastefully surveying the assembly.

"La, but if your Mr. Darcy does not make a handsome picture!" Mrs. Jennings exclaimed. Elizabeth was too preoccupied to reply that he was not her Mr. Darcy. She tore her eyes away from the picture of him now surrounded by an entourage of fawning mamas and daughters. Why had he come? She demanded bitterly. To mock me in this latest humiliation? To despise me for disgracing him? But apparently his tarnished reputation has not injured him in the eyes of society! No, it is I who will suffer, who will be cast out! Perhaps I am no more than what people say! Perhaps my behaviour has warranted this disgrace. Elizabeth thought feverishly back to the night he had kissed her, how she had willingly melted in his arms. She recalled with perfect clarity the look on his face as he had taunted her about how many eligible men would fill her dance card.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. Tears of anger and humiliation threatened. She turned her back and shaded her face with her hands in an effort to calm her trembling.

"Miss Bennet." Elizabeth whirled around at the sound of Darcy's voice.

"May I request the honour of your hand for this dance?"

Elizabeth stared, her mouth open and speechless. His face looked down into hers, and she could detect only seriousness in his expression. When he saw that she could not respond, he simply took her arm and led her to the floor. It was not until they had been in the dance for five minutes before she had regained her composure enough to speak.

"Mr. Darcy," she managed, "I did not expect to see you here tonight."

"I did not expect to come," he replied briefly, his face still serious. Elizabeth hardly knew what to say. She wondered if he could be aware of the rumours that were circulating about him. If he was not, she was certainly not going to be the one to inform him! She inwardly cursed herself for standing up with him! If only he knew the picture they were presenting to the world!

"How was the ball at Lord Matlock's?" she questioned politely, and was tempted to laugh sardonically at how superficial it sounded to her ears considering her situation.

"The ball?" Darcy looked down at her distractedly. "Of course, the ball, yes, it was going very well, thank you. Have you been enjoying yourself this evening?"

Elizabeth eyed him suspiciously. She had never seen him other than unnervingly observant. "Oh yes, I have been enjoying myself immensely," she said sarcastically. "My dance card has been full to overflowing!" Darcy looked intently at her.

"Has it indeed?"

"Yes, do you not think it very flattering for me? Who would have thought I would meet with such success?"

"I am not at all surprised, Miss Bennet. But let me offer you my congratulations!" he said, the faintest hint of irritation in his voice.

"Perhaps I owe all my success to the jewellery Georgiana lent to me. She forgot to mention that it belonged to your mother." Elizabeth looked up wide-eyed at Darcy, fearing what he would say. He regarded the diamond sparkling on her slender neck and the jewels dangling from her ears. Gazing down at her, he said softly,

"It looks well on you."

Elizabeth stared into his eyes, which to her surprise contained the same softness she had heard in his voice. She blushed and looked away with pretended indifference. Insufferable man! How long would he persist in torturing her? Why had he come, and why was he dancing with her? His actions baffled her. He still had not explained his presence here, and she did not have the courage to ask him. Neither of them made further attempt at conversation, and so they danced in silence. The crowds of gossiping people in the assembly room were forgotten as they moved through the music. She trembled each time he took her hand within his, and she knew she blushed each time she met his eye. When the dance required more intimate positions, she held her breath at his close proximity. At last the dance was over, and they had not spoken in half an hour. He led her back to her seat and bowed over her hand.

"Thank you, Miss Bennet," he said quickly, and moved hastily away. Elizabeth was as speechless upon their separation as she had been upon his application. Mrs. Jennings approached her and slipped her fat arm through Elizabeth's slender one.

"Well done, my girl! That should certainly help quell the gossip; either that or enflame it! You've almost made it! My, my, if this has not been an odd evening! But there is one more dance left this evening, now if we can only find one more gentleman ... ah, here comes one. Mr. Wickham! He is a charming devil! Rally yourself, my dear! A half hour more and you can go home!" Elizabeth watched as a tall, slender man with dark hair and a rakish grin bowed before her. She remembered that he had requested the last dance much earlier in the evening following their introduction.

"How do you do, Mr. Wickham," she curtsied as if in a trance.

"Very well, indeed, Miss Bennet. Shall we?" Elizabeth placed her hand on his arm and allowed him to lead her to the set. Her head and feet ached, and she had to summon every ounce of her strength to attend to the conversation.

"I hear you have been in Derbyshire recently, Miss Bennet," he began. Elizabeth glanced at his face. A smooth smile overspread it.

"That is true," she said quietly.

"I was raised in Derbyshire," he said, in the most charming of accents. "In fact, my father was the late Mr. Darcy's steward. I spent most of my childhood at Pemberley."

"Indeed," Elizabeth replied uneasily. There was something she did not trust about this man. He looked vaguely familiar to her, but she could not place his face.

"How do you like Derbyshire, Miss Bennet?"

"It is beautiful country, I enjoyed it very much," she said distantly.

"And how did you find Miss Darcy? Did she give you much trouble?" Wickham's charming smile seemed to Elizabeth to have transformed into a leer. She stepped back from him. Where had she seen this man before?

"I couldn't ask for a better pupil," she said coldly. As they turned, Elizabeth noticed Mr. Darcy standing not far distant. When she met his eye, she was shocked to see a look of barely restrained fury contained therein. She saw that Mr. Wickham had also noticed Mr. Darcy, and he paled slightly. To Elizabeth, this was the last of her patience. She could not sustain the subtle and inexplicable games of society any longer. After turning the wrong way in the dance for a second time, she stopped abruptly.

"I beg your pardon, sir, I find I am too tired to attend to the dance."

"No apologies are necessary, Miss Bennet. Perhaps some fresh air would restore you?" Elizabeth nodded and allowed him to lead her away from the crowd, in the opposite direction of Darcy. She ignored the staring they met with as he manoeuvred them through the crowd. Her head was now pounding as if it would explode. She breathed a sigh of relief as they stepped onto the terrace. As it was the last set of the evening, the terrace was devoid of people, and Elizabeth wondered briefly if she should be here alone with Mr. Wickham. However, the relief of being away from the staring eyes of the ton overruled her hesitations. She moved to the balcony and leaned over. The cool night air felt soothing after the stuffy ballroom and she closed her eyes in an effort to calm her frayed nerves. She looked up at the stars and sighed. She had forgotten completely about Mr. Wickham until she suddenly became aware of his arm slipping around her waist. His voice breathed low in her ear,

"You're a beautiful woman, Miss Bennet..."

"Mr. Wickham! Please refrain from such intimacy, I beg you!" She turned in astonishment and attempted to distance herself, but Wickham was not so easily deferred. He moved in front of her, successfully blocking her way. Elizabeth looked in horror at his leering face.

"Stand back, Mr. Wickham! I forbid you to touch me!"

"Come now!" he sneered. "You wouldn't deny me what you give so freely to Darcy!" Thus saying he pinned her arms behind her back and leaned over her, his lips brushing her cheek as Elizabeth cried in outrage and twisted her face as far away as she could. At that instant she found herself forcibly released from Wickham's grasp. She looked to see to whom she was indebted and saw that Darcy had pinned Wickham against the wall. Wickham, no match physically for Darcy, sneered down at him.

"You always were selfish, Darcy. Tsk, tsk, when will the spoiled rich boy learn to share the wealth?"

"I could kill you, you filthy blackguard!" Darcy roared. Elizabeth was shocked at the hatred evident in his voice. She thought in horror that he really was going to kill him.

"You could kill me, but would you?" Wickham taunted, his face flushed and ugly. "You've threatened so many times, and each threat is as empty as the last!" Darcy had his hand on Wickham's neck.

"Do I need to remind you of the last time I called you out and failed to show?" Darcy growled. "But being the coward you are, you are careful to meet me only in places where it would be unsuitable to run my sword through your worthless body!" Elizabeth was suddenly aware that a crowd had gathered and was spilling onto the terrace. She saw Colonel Fitzwilliam dart forward and pull Darcy from Wickham, who stumbled away from Darcy and the wall.

"Do not blame me that your world is perfect!" snapped Wickham. "But perhaps you would condescend to leave your ivory tower in order to deal with a rogue such as I?"

"Name the place!" Darcy spat. A look of alarm flickered briefly on Wickham's face.

"Tomorrow at dawn then, the plaza at Younge street," he snarled.

"Done." Darcy glared at him as Wickham hastily pushed his way through the crowd and disappeared. The Colonel still held Darcy back as if fearful that Darcy would pursue Wickham and strangle him on the spot. The crowd murmured in shock. Elizabeth leaned against the balcony in a state of astonishment at the scene she had just witnessed. Darcy stood facing the direction Wickham had just taken, his face still flushed in anger. A tall, handsome woman with an air of authority pushed her way through the crowd.

"Darcy!" she called shrilly. Elizabeth heard the Colonel groan.

"Lady Catharine," he muttered. The woman stopped imperiously before the two men.

"Darcy, I demand an explanation!" Darcy was silent. "Darcy, I understand you have called Wickham out. Is this true?" she demanded.

"It is," he replied curtly. Lady Catharine pulled herself up to her fullest height and glared at her nephew.

"And you are willing to risk your life for the sake of this woman, this ... this ... governess!?" Lady Catharine spat the words as if they were poison to her.

Darcy seethed. "No! For the sake of the woman I love!"

The crowd came alive at this announcement. Elizabeth, who had been clinging in horror to the balcony, felt her knees buckle under her.

"Someone help the young lady!" a voice called. The crowd seemed to close in on her, swarming her vision. Before she collapsed she caught one look at him. His face displayed an earnest expression of concern and tenderness, and to her great astonishment, uncertainty. The blackness overtook her.

Chapter 16

Posted on Saturday, 21 May 2005

Elizabeth awoke in Mrs. Jennings spare room. Her mind flew over the incidences of the previous night, alighting at last on the zenith. He loves me! she whispered into her pillow. The knowledge sent thrills of ecstasy coursing through her body. He loves me! She exclaimed for joy and pressed her hands to heart. Another memory froze her joy. He might be dead. Elizabeth bolted up, and had to steady herself on the bed post. Wrapping her chemise around her, she ran out in search of Mrs. Jennings, whom she found alone in the breakfast parlour.

"Good morning, Miss Eliza, I didn't expect-"

"Is he alive?" she blurted frantically.

Mrs. Jennings chortled. "I thought you might be wanting to know just that, and so I have already made enquiries this morning! You know I have my methods of finding these things out! Well, calm yourself, my dear; I am coming to the point. I have just now received word that your Mr. Darcy is indeed, alive. Apparently Mr. Wickham never showed-the coward! But I daresay ... Miss Elizabeth, are you quite alright?"

Elizabeth had sunk into an empty chair. Relief played over her features.

"Oh, thank heaven," she breathed, unable to maintain her composure.

"There, there, my dear, these things always have a way of working themselves out. Now I daresay it's a matter of waiting for a certain gentleman to pay his respects, eh, Miss Eliza?" Mrs. Jennings wagged her eyebrows suggestively. Elizabeth sat up directly and looked startled.

"Where is Jane?"

"I believe you will find your sister in the garden."

Elizabeth was gone directly.

"Oh Jane! What am I to do? I cannot cannot stay here!" Elizabeth paced before her sister, extreme agitation marking her movements. Jane watched her calmly from where she sat on a stone bench.

"Lizzy," Jane said steadily, "I feel sure Mr. Darcy is an honourable man. If he says he loves you, he will make you an offer!"

Elizabeth sat and clutched her sister's arm. "You do not know him as I do. His pride is not to be underestimated. He has made it clear on so many, many occasions that to marry the governess would be to him unthinkable!"

"Yet it seems highly unlikely that he would profess his love for you before his relations and all society if he did not mean it."

"Oh, what will a man not say when he finds a woman he has a slight infatuation for being accosted by a childhood enemy!"

"Childhood enemy? Do you suspect a history between Mr. Darcy and Wickham?"

"I am almost certain of it. Mr. Wickham told me himself that he spent much of his childhood at Pemberley. They grew up together. Oh, Jane, if you could have seen the look of deep-seated hatred reflected on their faces, I have never-it was frightening..."

"Oh dear ... I hope you are exaggerating. But Lizzy, regardless of Mr. Darcy's past with Mr. Wickham, I do not think his hatred on one hand would elevate his feelings of mere infatuation to strong passion on the other. He seems an intelligent, discriminating man, one unlikely to let circumstances determine his course of action."

"A discriminating man-yes! Of that I can assure you! No, you are right, Jane, he would not have declared feelings that did not exist. He says he loves me ... and so he must ... No, what I am really afraid of is that once he is safe in the confines of his own home, he will weigh every particular so minutely that the arguments against me will overcome the strength of his attachment. He will realize that to marry an impoverished governess would be ludicrous!"

"Poverty is not so great an obstacle to true love," smiled Jane. "It is not as if Mr. Darcy need marry an heiress. He is wealthy enough to marry where he wishes." Elizabeth was silent and looked away.

"Lizzy, what is it?" Elizabeth took a deep breath.

"I am surprised Mrs. Jennings did not inform you. You were so involved with Mr. Bingley, it is no wonder you did not hear the rumour circulating that I am Mr. Darcy's... mistress." Jane gasped and exclaimed in disbelief. Elizabeth held up her hands helplessly.

"My reputation is ruined. I highly doubt Mr. Darcy's passion could overcome such an obstacle." Jane blinked in confusion.

"I do not understand. Where could such a vicious rumour have started? Mistress of Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth hesitated.

"It is often difficult to trace the sources of such things. Presumably a jealous woman who suspected Mr. Darcy's feelings for me."

"But Lizzy, has Mr. Darcy's behaviour to you been irreproachable? Has he ever behaved in a way that might give credence to such rumours?" Elizabeth turned her face away, covering it in her hands.

"Oh, Jane, what will you think of me?" Jane paled.

"Lizzy, what happened?" she whispered. Elizabeth turned to her sister in shame.

"I ... let him kiss me."

"Oh, is that all?"

"It was more than just a simple kiss! It was..it was very ... passionate..." Elizabeth stood, turning away in embarrassment.

"But only a kiss nevertheless?" Jane insisted anxiously. When Elizabeth nodded, she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Certainly, an indiscretion, but a small one. What about his behaviour to you in sight of the servants, of guests-"

"-was irreproachable."

"In that case, you can have nothing to fear. Mr. Darcy will not heed the rumours, for he will know they are based on falsehood. Once you are married, your reputation will be rescued. In a few years, no one will bother to remember."

Elizabeth sat and looked morosely at Jane. "I went into his arms so willingly ... My reputation is forever ruined, and what does he have to gain by marrying me? He loves me, but do you really think a man of the world would align himself with a penniless wretch? Besides, I do not wish him to marry out of obligation to save my tarnished character. He has already proposed that once, and I of course refused him. No, he knows my thoughts on such a union. He will not ask me again."

"Lizzy, I feel sure that he will, and when he does you must accept him! There is no other way!"

"Oh, Jane, it is not so much the fear of his not asking me for anything, and I cannot be sure, but as I become acquainted with the ways of men, I am confused and I don't know what to think!"

"Lizzy, you are not making any sense."

"I am so afraid he will make me an offer, but a very ... different ... sort of offer."

Jane was speechless for a moment. "But, Lizzy, you spoke of him as being a man of ... of discrimination, of principle-"

"That he is a man of discrimination, of understanding, of purpose, I have no doubt. But of his character, of his views regarding women and marriage I am not certain. I do know that he looks upon the choosing of his future wife as more a matter of duty to his family and situation than one of personal fulfillment. He would never choose anyone to the disadvantage of worldly considerations. Of course there was never anything in his behaviour or conversation to indicate he was a libertine, but that does not mean he would not be above supporting a mistress. Besides, if Wickham, who has known him since his childhood, and Lord Dartmore, a close friend, believed it of him, why shouldn't I?" The sisters looked at each other in dismal silence.

"I cannot believe it," said Jane at last. "We must think the best of him until he has proven otherwise."

"I cannot have as much faith as you," Elizabeth said in depressed tones. "It is a strange society we live in, as I have come to realize since Father died. Since I became a governess, I have been the object of such attention as I never used to receive. Who would have guessed that the loss of my fortune would bring an automatic loss of respectability?"

"You have not lost your respectability. Though the whole world thinks it, it does not make it true." Elizabeth embraced her sister.

"Oh, Jane, what would I do without you?" Jane smiled affectionately.

"Lizzy, there is one point on which I remain a little unclear. I think it is safe to assume that you return Mr. Darcy's regard?"

Elizabeth blushed and looked downcast. "I hardly know how it happened. I was so determined that it not happen. It was like a dream ... and now a nightmare! But yes, I love him. I love him!" Elizabeth smiled and shook her head. "Enough about me. What about you? I think that perhaps Mr. Bingley has not left your heart untouched ... ?" Now it was Jane's turn to blush.

"If Mr. Bingley were to offer for me, I would not refuse him. However, I find myself in a similar situation. There is nothing to be done but to wait." Elizabeth stood abruptly and began pacing.

"I am not content to wait. I refuse to wait while Mr. Darcy sits in his townhouse and decides my fate. No! I will not follow the rules of a society that has betrayed me." She stopped pacing and looked at Jane. "Do you think Mrs. Jennings would condescend to lend me her carriage?"

"Where will you go?" cried Jane.

"I do not know! Probably back to Mama! I do not care where I go, but I cannot stay here, I shall go mad! My pride forbids it!"

Jane watched her sister pace for a moment. Sighing, she rose and drew closer to Elizabeth. "Lizzy, I cannot help but think you are making a grave error by leaving. However, I know you well enough to realize that I won't be able to convince you otherwise. I heard Mrs. Jennings say that her daughter Charlotte and her husband will be departing tomorrow morning. Their estate is not ten miles from the cottage."

"I shall go ask Mrs. Jennings directly. Oh, Jane! I see you do not approve! Perhaps you are right, but I cannot bear to stay in this horrible city a moment longer." Jane hugged her.

"Do not worry, Lizzy. I truly believe this will end happily." The sisters embraced once more, then Elizabeth was gone.

After the details of the ride had been arranged, Elizabeth retired to her room to pack. Her clothes had been sent over from Darcy's house. As she arranged her belongings, Elizabeth's mind went over again and again the myriad of events that had transpired in her life. She attempted to piece all the elements together so that she might determine the strength and nature of Darcy's feelings for her. I must not be too hopeful, she concluded at last. She thought of her young friend Georgiana and was wondering painfully whether she was now aware of the rumours when a knock at the door revealed a maid entered carrying an envelope.

"If you please, Miss, this just arrived for you."

Elizabeth, her heart pounding, took the letter. She saw immediately the address was not in Darcy's handwriting, nor was it Georgiana's. She frowned slightly. Sitting down on the bed, she tore open the envelope and read as follows:

To Miss Elizabeth Bennet, August--.

Although we are not formally acquainted, I am requesting the honour of your company at tea at precisely five o'clock this afternoon. You cannot be in doubt as to the reasons of my request, therefore I shall abstain from repeating them here. I am Lady Catharine de Bourgh, Mr. Darcy's aunt and trusted advisor, and not an insignificant factor in his future happiness. I realize this is a somewhat unusual invitation; I will only say by means of explanation that your presence is of the utmost importance, as I am sure you will come to see. I trust you will see the wisdom of adhering to my request, and so do not require an answer. My carriage will collect you at exactly 4:45.

Lady Catharine de Bourgh

Elizabeth's hand dropped in astonishment upon reading this. That a woman she did not know should summon her in such a manner seemed incredible. The impression she had made of being a woman of officious self-importance was now confirmed.

"I shan't go," Elizabeth claimed aloud. "I refuse to be intimidated by this woman who knows nothing of me, and who obviously despises me only because my situation in life is below her own. What can she have to say except to persuade me from a match that she does not approve of? Insolent woman!"

Having said, she threw down the letter and resumed packing. However, a few minutes later Elizabeth's curiosity got the better of her. She took up the letter again, and had to laugh at it. Never have I received such an imperial invitation for tea, she mused. It is absolutely pompous, and yet, I am half tempted to accept, if not just to give this woman the set-down she deserves. Have I not already forsworn this traitorous society? Perhaps this can be my initiation!

Chapter 17

Posted on Saturday, 21 May 2005

At precisely 5 o'clock that afternoon Elizabeth mounted the stone steps leading to Lady Catherine de Bourgh's imposing residence. The gray skies cast their pallor on the world, even causing the carefully manicured greenery to appear gray and funereal. Fitting apparel for today, Elizabeth thought grimly. The large doors swung open before she reached them, and an aged and rather sour looking butler ushered her into the house. Elizabeth gazed knowingly at the high, ornate ceilings decorated in olive and gold, the elaborate reliefs and expensive paintings. It gave her some satisfaction that the ostentatious décor matched exactly her pre-conception of the Lady. In spite of herself, it was with great curiosity that she entered the large, impressive sitting room. The imperious sight of the woman she had seen the evening before immediately accosted Elizabeth. Lady Catharine stood on the opposite side of the room beside a small table and armchair. There was no sign of tea; Elizabeth was not surprised. What did surprise her was the look of strong distaste, resentment, and hatred? Elizabeth blinked. She had been regarded with eyes of jealousy and lust, but never such unbridled animosity. She began to think that perhaps her coming had been a mistake. Lady Catharine did not say a word, but simply motioned for Elizabeth be seated. Elizabeth remained standing, determined not to oblige this proud woman in any particular. If she thought she could cow her into anything, she was mistaken. Elizabeth gritted her teeth and prepared for verbal swordplay.

"Miss Bennet." Lady Catharine spoke the words as though they were laced with poison, and Elizabeth was again amazed at the almost unrestrained anger in her voice. "You can be in no doubt as to why I have summoned you here."

"On the contrary, m'am, I am at a complete loss as to what I owe the honour of the occasion?"

"Miss Bennet, let us not waste time with foolish games. I know not how you have ensnared my nephew-undoubtedly your new ... profession ... has taught you skills and wiles that a gentlewoman cannot conceive of." Elizabeth gasped audibly at this, and Lady Catharine smiled painfully to see her arrow make its mark. "As I am sure you are very aware, men have their weaknesses; even the strongest, most upright of men, such as my nephew, can be preyed upon by the wicked designs of a ...woman such as yourself, especially if she has an attractive form and cunning wiles." Elizabeth reeled from shock and anger.

"How dare you accuse me-" she began in a choked voice.

"I have not time for your excuses," snapped Lady Catharine. "I am well aware of the state of your family-your impoverishment, the loss of your estate, the ruin of your sisters and mother, the debts left you by a negligent father. It is no wonder that you would seek to get your desperate claws into the heart, and therefore the purse of my nephew! It will not be borne! I know not what you have done, nor what kind of arrangements he has already made with you-I know that in all his dealings he can be foolishly generous. But any kind of union with you is a disgrace! I say it WILL NOT be borne! Am I to see Pemberley polluted by an impoverished governess? A woman who all of London knows is nothing more than a harlot?"

"You have said quite enough, Madam," Elizabeth spoke, her voice quivering with anger. "You could not have accused me more falsely or degraded me, and my family, more completely than you have done today. I will not remain to be humiliated by someone so entirely unacquainted with me, and for whom I hold no respect. Excuse me." Elizabeth whirled.

"Miss Bennet! I have not finished speaking to you!" Elizabeth had reached the door and was about to turn the knob. "Miss Bennet, I have an offer for you!"

"Pardon me?" she replied in disbelief. She turned and watched as Lady Catharine swiftly opened an antique box next to her on the desk. Elizabeth could dimly make out stacks of bank notes.

"Ten thousand pounds," Lady Catharine announced proudly. "Yours, if you swear to cut off all dealings with my nephew. I, too, can be foolishly generous in times of necessity."

Elizabeth stared, and slowly approached the box. After fingering some of the bills-they were indeed real-she replied saucily, "Your Ladyship must concede that it is hardly an advantageous offer, especially considering Mr. Darcy is worth this much in a year." Lady Catharine fumed.

"Fifteen thousand, then! Selfish, insolent girl! Think of your family! Think what this could mean to them!"

Elizabeth could take no more.

"You once again show a complete misunderstanding of my character to think I would accept this!" she cried. "Let me assure you, neither I nor any member of my family would accept one farthing your money even if we were on the brink of starvation! Our loss of fortune has not caused the loss of our principles, any more than your fortune has prevented your own corruption!" Lady Catharine actually shrieked at this.

"Do you mean to accuse me of wickedness in the face of your obvious downfall?! Hypocrite! Can you speak of character to me when the world knows you have sold yourself to my nephew!? Admit it!"

"I will do nothing of the sort!" Elizabeth cried. "If money was my prime objective, I would not hesitate to take yours! But unlike you, I do not engage in business with filthy money, nor do I exchange my services with people whose standards are so far below my own!" Elizabeth, in her fury, picked up the box of money, dumped it on the floor, and stalked to the door.

"Fine, if that is how it is to be, if you must insist on obstinacy, your ruin will be your own doing!" Lady Catharine seethed. She then banged her walking stick three times on the wooden floor. Elizabeth paid no attention and continued to make her way across the room, more furious than she had ever been at any time in her life. Her only thought was to flee this house and rid herself forever of the hateful woman.

To her great astonishment, the doorknob would not turn under her hand. She tried again. It was securely locked. Elizabeth turned back to Lady Catharine to demand her release, and as she did so, a door concealed in the wall behind Lady Catharine opened, and Mr. Wickham, followed by a short, stubby man stepped into the room. Elizabeth gasped in astonishment. Her gaze moved from Wickham to the nervous, greasy man beside him.

"Mr. Layton!" she gasped, dumbfounded. She easily recognized her late father's lawyer.

"I see you are already acqainted with Mr. Fallworthy: dentist, barber, financier, lawyer, clergyman, and most importantly, my accomplice," Wickham said evenly. He smiled graciously as his partner giggled in nervous, high-pitched laughter.

"Enough with the pleasantries, Wickham," said Lady Catharine stiffly. "You know what you are to do-then do it and be gone!" Wickham politely inclined his head in acquiescence and removed a revolver from within the folds of his coat. He cocked it, then levelling it at Elizabeth, said,

"Now, my dear, if you would be so kind as to come with me..."

"Never!" she spat.

"Miss Bennet," Wickham replied, smiling. "Let me remind you that I am currently aiming a lethal weapon at your head, one that I am particularly adept at using, if I do not flatter myself. I would hate to have to blow your pretty little brains out." Both Lady Catharine and Elizabeth started at this, and Elizabeth moved shakily to the other side of the room, where Fallworthy proceeded to tie her hands behind her back. As Fallworthy finished, Wickham regarded her with interest.

"And so your pride was greater than ten thousand pounds, was it? Tut, tut, tut, a rather expensive virtue for an impoverished governess, don't you think? Or perhaps Darcy kept you better off than we all think," he sneered.

"Money is not everybody's prime motivation in life!" she snapped. "I wouldn't touch it for the world!"

"Oh, no?" Wickham smiled maliciously. "But I would." He swivelled, now directing the gun at Lady Catharine, who balked in astonishment. "And now, my lady, as I am currently busy, I must ask you do the clean up for me." He smiled sweetly and motioned with his revolver toward the bills of money now scattered over the floor.

"Wickham! You scoundrel!" she sputtered in disbelief.

"You're wasting valuable time," he snarled. "Did you think I would agree to such a stupid scheme for a mere twenty pounds? I have endured your condescension all my life, now it is your turn to do my bidding!" Lady Catharine seemed to hesitate, her features struggling between fear and anger.

"NOW!" Wickham roared and pushed her to the ground.

"Don't hurt her!" Elizabeth cried. Wickham turned from Lady Catharine, who was now scrambling to retrieve all the bills, to Elizabeth. He sneered into her face.

"Your concern is charming, my dear! I see that Darcy has finally found the perfect accomplice! Corruption and a heart of stone painted with the face of an angel!" Wickham spit into her face, and she uttered a muffled cry of horror as the saliva ran down her face. "That is what I think of you and your kind, Miss Bennet! I intend to avenge myself of a lifetime of suffering by ridding the world of two of you tonight!"

Lady Catharine finished stuffing the last of the bills into the box. "Hand it to me!" Wickham snapped. Trembling, her arrogant features now shaken and terror-filled, Lady Catharine handed the box to Wickham.

"Now, sit in that chair!" he ordered. "Fallworthy!" he called. Fallworthy proceeded to tie and gag her. Wickham tucked the box under his arm, and motioned for his accomplice to open the door.

"Never do business with those over your head," he rejoined coldly and with that, pushed Elizabeth through the door and closed it firmly on Lady Catherine's horrified face.

Continued In Next Section