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Part Two, Chapter 1

Posted on Friday, 20 December 2002, at 7:15 p.m.

"Hertfordshire, Bingley?"

Darcy sat up in his armchair and looked on his friend in disbelief, unwilling to credit the coincidence. "You cannot be in earnest."

Bingley attempted to raise himself to his full height and to appear imposing by holding out his billiards cue as an emperor might his scepter. But he was hampered by a naturally pleasant face and the inability to be seriously offended by anyone, least of all his greatest friend, and so only succeeded in looking like an affronted puppy.

"Well, dash it old man, why should I not be in earnest?"

His companion set down his glass of port on a nearby table and rose to take his turn in the game. "I would not have you think I doubt your sincerity, Bingley- I only wonder at what put the thought of Hertfordshire into your head at the start. To my knowledge, you've never set foot in the place in your life."

Bingley's glass stopped midway in its path to his mouth and he paused a moment to reflect, staring rather foolishly at the ceiling as if trying very hard to remember something. "I say, Darcy, I do think my mother took me on holiday there once when I was a small boy. . ."

The corners of his usually rather serious friend's lips could not help but curl slightly in amusement at this, and to conceal his smile, he bent over the table and took his shot. It was a relatively good one, for Darcy was an expert at billiards, and pleased with himself, he turned to his friend and replied good-humoredly, "You really must answer my question, Bingley. Whatever could have put Hertfordshire into your mind? I'm certain it was not merely the fondness of childhood memory."

Bingley's smile was broad and enthusiastic as was his custom, and as usual the effort made his kind, good-natured countenance look rather ridiculous in an endearing sort of way. "As a matter of fact, your sister got me to thinking of it. She mentioned the prospect yesterday afternoon."

Darcy was all amazement. "Georgiana?"

Bingley laughed, and throwing his head back he downed the last of his port. "Why yes, my good man, unless perhaps, you have another sister of whom I have not heard."

Darcy ignored Bingley's teasing and asked in confusion, "Whatever possessed Georgiana to suggest Hertfordshire to you?"

Bingley walked round the billiard table, plotting his next shot. "She tells me she has a friend who lives in the area. Apparently, the young lady has recently told your sister in a letter that there is a great estate to be let not three miles from her father's, and that it is a very fine prospect indeed." Bingley leaned over the table and took his shot, miraculously knocking three of his own billiard balls into the pockets and effectively damaging Darcy's chances of winning the game after all. This came as quite a surprise, as Bingley never won at billiards, especially against Darcy, and was rather a poor shot at that.

He turned to his friend, a ridiculous smile of triumph illuminating his entire countenance. "I say Darcy, dashed fine spot of luck that!"

Darcy rolled his eyes and reached for the port decanter. "You were saying, Bingley. . ."

The latter smiled sheepishly. "Yes, of course, well, I was thinking that perhaps we might ride over to Hertfordshire tomorrow afternoon, after Caroline's beastly tea party, spend the night, and have a look at Netherfield Park the next morning. I should like to have your opinion before deciding whether or not to make an offer. The journey is not long, and we may be back to Town in the evening in time to have a few hands of hazard with Hurst. What do you say to it?"

Darcy sat nonchalantly on the arm of the chair he had recently vacated, planning his words carefully, trying not to appear too eager. "Of course I'll come, if you wish it."

"Excellent."

Feigning casualness, Darcy asked, "What was the name of Georgiana's Hertfordshire correspondent, did you say?"

Bingley, failing to take the hint, looked rather confused. "I don't believe I did, actually."

Darcy sighed, a touch exasperated with his friend. "Did she mention a name?"

Bafflement was instantly displayed on Bingley's face. "Dashed if I can recall what it was, old man. Something beginning with a 'B' I think. . . 'Bentley', 'Benson', 'Bennet'. . ."

Darcy's mask of equanimity failed him. "Bennet! Miss Elizabeth Bennet?"

Recognition promptly lit Bingley's countenance. "Yes! The very same. Now I remember- Miss Darcy informed me that you and she had become acquainted with Miss Bennet last month in Derbyshire, and that you all became such great friends." Bingley smiled mischievously. "Tell me, Darcy, is your 'great friend' very pretty?"

Disliking to be teased on the subject of Elizabeth, as Georgiana was always ready to do, Darcy shook his head in frustration. "You, my friend, are showing yourself to be very narrow minded."

In reply, Bingley laughed heartily. "Which means she is very plain indeed!"

This, however, was a little more than Darcy's finer feelings could stand. "As a matter of fact, I consider Miss Bennet to be one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance." He sulkingly drained the rest of the port from his glass.

Bingley's eyebrows raised. "In that case I am all the more anxious to taste the delights of Hertfordshire." He laughed again and gave Darcy a playful shove. "Do you think your pretty Miss Bennet might have a sister for me?"

At this, Darcy smiled in secret triumph. "She has four."

Bingley's eyes grew to resemble the size of large dinner plates. "Four?! Good heavens, Darcy, why did you not invite me to Pemberley this summer?"

"Alas, Miss Bennet was not accompanied by her sisters. But had she been so, dear Bingley, I would have been held by all the sacred bonds of friendship to summon you directly."

Bingley squared his shoulders and tilted his nose up a little. "I am excessively glad to hear it."

Later that evening, Darcy sat alone before the fire in his study, musing over the day's events and wondering on what course tomorrow's excursion would embark him. That he must convince Bingley of Hertfordshire's worth he was acutely aware, and no matter how atrocious this "Netherfield Park" turned out to be, Darcy was fairly certain that his persuasive powers over his friend would be enough to induce him to take it. Indeed, he would gladly endure a few trivial inconveniences if it meant being once more in the company of her he loved best.

Her beloved face forming before his mind's eye again, Darcy reached into his breast pocket and retrieved the handkerchief he had pinched from Georgiana's letter. Taking it had been a petty and childish impulse to be sure, but something in him had not been able to resist the temptation. Tracing with his thumb the embroidery work she had done in the corner of the cloth, Darcy caught a breath of her scent- warm, sweet lavender, invigorating his senses and calling to mind the music of her laugher and the sparkle of her fine eyes. The memory sent a pang of longing through him, and he tried to forget the loneliness he had endured for the past month. But dare he believe that she could really be so near?

Georgiana, the calculating little creature, must have deliberately ensured that Bingley knew of the Hertfordshire estate and became interested in it, in hopes that she might reunite her brother with her friend. Darcy had not thought her capable of such boldness, and knew that he should reproach her for her presumption and her meddling, but could not bring himself to reprimand her for an action he was so truly grateful for. The prospect of having to wait until the winter to see Elizabeth again had plagued him throughout the last days of the summer, and he was glad that perhaps now he would not be forced to. But what if this new development should all come to nothing?

Darcy replaced the handkerchief and stood, stretching his tired limbs. It was time to retire, and much too late to be pondering such heavy thoughts for the future. Tomorrow would tell if he should see her again shortly or no, and he refused to let his mind buzz with the possibilities. Tomorrow he would know.

* * *

The autumn air was invigorating in its crisp coolness, and Elizabeth, enchanted with the clear chill of the morning, had departed from the house earlier than was her custom. She had set out toward Oakham Mount, keeping a brisk pace and being sure to savor every aspect of the first truly cool morning of the season. The leaves had just begun to change their color and the perfume of the fall was filling the air, leaving Elizabeth's senses ravished by the loveliness of it all. And in the cool stillness of the morning, it could only be entirely hers, belonging to no one else.

As the past few days had been full of social engagements and obligations, it was a relief to be at last alone with her thoughts and to be at liberty to let down the guise of politeness one had to adopt so often in the presence of people for whom one could have little respect. Last evening at her Aunt Phillips' gathering, the sound of her own laughter had seemed harsh and false to her ears, and Elizabeth was eager to rid herself of the tension that always built inside her when her natural easiness of temper was forced to cater to the vanity of others. How different, how much more comfortable things had been in Derbyshire!

Her thoughts often turned in that direction these days, longing for the simple happiness of her time there. It was not as if there wasn't any to be found at home- indeed the affections of her attentive sister Jane proved to be as constant as they'd ever been, and Mr. Bennet's satirical wit was as delightful to his favorite daughter as ever, and yet, she knew that there was something missing from her essential self that she had left behind in the northern country. Of course she longed to see Georgiana, who became more dear with every letter, but there was something else, something that filled her silent hours with the warmth of memory and yet the vague sensation of a thing laid heavily against her heart.

It was Darcy, of course, and the love she still bore him. How unbearable it had been to leave him, and how ardently she had wished to stay behind! Elizabeth had hoped that after the first few weeks of separation her feelings would wane to a manageable state, soon to be forgotten, but it had not proven to be so. Every mention of him in his sister's letters had sent pangs of disappointment through her, and she devoutly wished for the day when she might see him again. But it was no use wishing, she knew. It was unlikely that she should meet him again any time in the foreseeable future, and when they did, he was likely to be engaged to someone else, or perhaps even married. She was a fool to go on loving him, and yet it could not be helped.

Elizabeth increased her pace, hoping that walking faster would clear her head, though she knew it could not clear her heart. She was glad of the crisp air and glad of her solitude, though she had asked her father, the other early riser in the house, before leaving if he wished to join her. He had declined, complaining of a rather severe headache and some chills, and Elizabeth, seeing that he was a bit pale and looked quite tired, had not pressed the matter. Mr. Bennet had stayed home from the Phillips' gathering the previous evening as well with the same complaint, but Elizabeth did not worry for her father's strong constitution and determined that he should be set to right before the week was out.

Elizabeth reached the crest of Oakham Mount and sat upon her favorite perch- a great rock planted firmly atop the hill, which provided her with an excellent vantage point from which to view the valley below. Netherfield rose from amongst the woods on the horizon, and Elizabeth was drawn again to thoughts of who might inhabit it next. There were rumors going about that a young man of considerable income was interested in the estate, and that perhaps he would soon make an offer. A ball was to be held on Saturday in the assembly rooms, and perhaps he might even be settled in time to attend.

In that case, Mrs. Bennet would get her wish after all- a young man inclined to dancing and merry-making in her view was clearly the best piece of humanity ever conceived, especially if he could be persuaded to take a romantic interest in one of her daughters. Elizabeth smiled at her mother's silliness. She had wisely chosen to conceal from her mother that a gentleman of easily ten thousand a year had captured her heart in Derbyshire.

Elizabeth continued in these thoughts until movement in the valley caught her attention. When she looked to determine what it was, she could see that two men on horseback were riding across the field below. From what she could make out from her perch, they appeared to be gentleman with very fine seats indeed, but she could not recognize in them anyone she knew from such a distance. She admired the grace and speed of their animals for a moment, and then saw that they had paused in their progress, and were looking toward Netherfield's prospect, apparently conversing between themselves. After a few moments of this, they seemed to reach an agreement, and promptly went racing off together in the direction from whence they had come.

Elizabeth continued to watch as their figures grew smaller and smaller in the distance, focused especially on the rider of the dark horse, who had pulled a little ahead of his friend. She realized with a little pang of feeling that something in the way he rode reminded her vaguely of the first time she had seen Darcy, riding across the Derbyshire hills.

Soon the two riders had disappeared into the wood, and with them the memory. Elizabeth rose quickly from her place, suddenly cold and weary of sitting in idleness. There was far too much to be done at home to be loitering about the countryside, and she must hurry away to her duties. There would be ample time for contemplation and reflection later.

* * *

Darcy stepped down from the carriage and looked up at the brightly lit windows of the assembly rooms. The sounds of merrymaking and country joviality were audible even from the street, and he thought with a little distaste at the prospect of spending an entire evening surrounded by this rowdy, perspiring, and most likely half-drunken gathering. But if Elizabeth was among them, offering her sweet smiles and rippling laugher as she had before, surely this unpleasantness was nothing.

The favorable turn of his thoughts was then interrupted by Miss Bingley, who, still seated in the carriage, had thrust her hand into his face as a signal that she wished to be helped down. Rolling his eyes, Darcy took her hand, covered in a rather orangeish, silken glove, and, despite his annoyance, helped her to step out of the carriage. As she descended, she made a point of brushing a little against him, a less than subtle attempt to remind him of her intentions and what she fancied his own should be. Catching a breath of her over-fragrant, conspicuously expensive perfume, Darcy felt slightly ill at the thought of being pursued by this woman. But she was Bingley's sister, and he would be decent to her.

Miss Bingley aimed a calculating glance at her brother's friend and asked in an amused, flirtatious voice, "Shall we be quite safe here, Mr. Darcy?"

The gentleman in question returned this remark with a look of indifference which he hoped was enough to satisfy her, and promptly passed her arm off to Bingley, who stood beside them. With a diverted, knowing smile for his friend, which he was quick to, but not quite successful at hiding from his sister, he led her up the steps, Mr. and Mrs. Hurst behind. Shaking his head in resignation, Darcy followed.

The sound of voices, laughter, and music grew louder as the party ascended the steps, and Darcy's thoughts turned once more to the lady who occupied such a central place in his affections, and whom he fancied was inside. Indeed, even in the midst of Miss Bingley's tasteless and suggestive behavior, his thoughts had never fully detached themselves from Elizabeth, and he hoped fervently that her apparent feelings and wishes of the summer had not waned in the period of their separation. He knew that his own were as strong as ever and was eager to find an opportunity to tell her as much. August had been an intolerably lengthy month, and he was keenly aware of the fact that he would be impatient and irritable, never to be satisfied until he had laid eyes on his beloved Elizabeth once more. How he longed to see her!

Her father had called at Netherfield a few days ago. He was a quick and witty man with sharp, intelligent eyes and a perpetually amused twist about his lips reminiscent of his daughter's own favored expression. His conversation was full of little quips, some almost imperceptible, some rather forward. Darcy had liked Mr. Bennet and yet been wary of him, uncertain if such an obviously quick, satirical mind was to be completely trusted. But he knew that Elizabeth loved her father dearly and that he returned her fond affections, and so Darcy concluded that any man admired and loved by Elizabeth must be of some considerable merit.

The Netherfield party passed through the doors of the assembly rooms and was directed by a footman to the location of the festivities. Darcy, feeling his anticipation rise at the thought that Elizabeth must be only a few yards away now, that he would surely see her in a matter of moments, took a deep breath and followed his companions into the ballroom.

The noise produced by the crowd gathered there was considerably lessened at their entry, leaving Darcy and his party not a little uncomfortable. It was immediately evident that they were certainly possessed of the highest incomes in the room, and it appeared that several of the persons gathered were content simply to stare in admiration and envy at them.

Darcy felt the familiar and unwelcome stiffness rise in him, and he battled hard against adopting that aura of superiority which had so often protected him against this sort of scrutiny. What did it matter what these people thought? So long as Elizabeth was among them, why should he care for their opinions? Shaking himself from the awkwardness of the situation, Darcy decided to take the opportunity to search the crowd for the fine, dark eyes that were so effectual in making him forget everything else. Surely they must be present. . .

And then, almost without effort, he found her, standing a little to herself in the corner opposite him. Darcy had not realized how much he had truly longed to see Elizabeth again until that first glimpse of her, and he was flooded all at once with relief and with joy. How lovely she was, how perfect! Overcome with love of her, he willed Elizabeth to look back at him. As if she had sensed his presence, her eyes rose from the floor where they had been focused and came to rest on him. He heard her gasp faintly in surprise, and watched with pleasure as her cheeks flushed a little; but she held his gaze, and with such warmth that Darcy quite forgot the intolerable length of August and the rambunctious country gathering around them, his thoughts only for her. . .

* * *

Elizabeth was nearly breathless with astonishment. That Darcy should be here, standing before her, offering her such looks seemed almost incredible. She had known since the day before last, when her father had gone to call on the gentleman who had taken possession of Netherfield that he was called Bingley; but Mr. Bennet had never mentioned Darcy, so she had credited their new neighbor's name to a coincidence and given the matter no further thought. Not for a moment had she allowed herself to hope that perhaps she might be afforded the opportunity to see the man she loved again so soon. But her heart leapt when she saw him, and she returned his looks with all the tenderness of her feelings, hoping that his presence that evening was a sign that his intentions were unchanged. She thought for a moment that she saw a faint smile cross his lips, and she longed to speak with him, if only the party would come over!

Sir William Lucas, sensible that the awkward stillness of the gathering must be ended and that he, being the only one present possessed of a proper introduction, must be the one to do it, began to fuss over the five privileged guests from Netherfield, making rather a fool of himself as usual. Even as the crowd went back to their gaiety his exclamations of "capitol, capitol!" could be heard across the room. Elizabeth smiled a little, her natural humor returning after her surprise. It would be intriguing indeed to see how Darcy would respond to the oddities of Meryton society.

Sir William and Mr. Bingley were engaged in friendly conversation while the rest of the Netherfield party held themselves rather aloof, and after a few minutes it seemed as though Mr. Bingley had persuaded the older gentleman to initiate the introductions. Elizabeth watched, her heart leaping into her throat, as Sir William led Mr. Bingley, smiling affably, and Darcy toward where her mother was standing with Jane. Seeing her opportunity, Elizabeth made her way through the crowd and reached her mother and sister a few moments before the gentlemen.

"Oh, look girls!" exclaimed Mrs. Bennet to her two eldest. "They're coming over! Fifteen hundred a year between them! Oh, are they not the handsomest men that ever were seen? Smile, girls, smile!"

Elizabeth and Jane exchanged diverted looks at the obvious source of their mother's excitement, but made her no reply as the three gentlemen were now within hearing. At his nearness, Elizabeth's heart began to beat wildly in her ears, and once more meeting the warmth of Darcy's eyes with her own, a blush stole over her cheeks and neck and she modestly averted her gaze. How she adored him!

"Mrs. Bennet," began Sir William cordially, "Mr. Bingley has expressed a wish to become acquainted with you and your daughters."

Mrs. Bennet was immediately overflowing with delight, an action which did not escape the critical eye of Darcy, and if she had not already become quite sure that no man could ever attain the perfections reached by Mr. Bingley, she certainly was now. She curtsied rather lower than was necessary and proclaimed, "Sir, that is very good of you!"

Mr. Bingley bowed, his smile very broad, despite Mrs. Bennet's incessant twittering.

The latter was then quick to plunge into the introductions before the conniving Lady Lucas could steal Mr. Bingley away. "This is Jane, my eldest, and Elizabeth, and Mary sits over there, and my two youngest, Kitty and Lydia, you see they are dancing."

Jane curtsied and then smiled very sweetly at Mr. Bingley, whose manner pleased her, and as she was quite the prettiest girl in the room, Mr. Bingley smiled back willingly. Elizabeth, whose heart was still in her throat, could only manage a friendly nod for Darcy's friend, her thoughts too consumed with what Darcy should think of her mother and her wild youngest sisters. He seemed to be avoiding her gaze, and it pained Elizabeth to think that her mother's obvious enthusiasm had offended him. If only he would speak!

"Are you very fond of dancing, Mr. Bingley?" inquired Mrs. Bennet.

"There is nothing I love better, madam! And if Miss Bennet is not otherwise engaged, may I solicit her company for the next two dances?"

Jane smiled amiably, a faint color rising in her cheeks. "I am not engaged, sir."

"Good." Mr. Bingley was all smiles again, and offering his arm to Jane, he led her toward the set.

Mrs. Bennet was so thrilled with the success of one daughter that she could not help but promote that of the second. "I hope you, sir, have come eager to dance as you friend has?"

Darcy was slightly taken aback at this rather forward question, and for a moment considered responding in monosyllables and then dragging Elizabeth off with him to a secluded corner in which they might avoid her mother's, and indeed everyone else's, company. When Elizabeth had told him in the summer that her mother was a silly creature, she had not mentioned that she was vulgar and presumptive as well. But remembering his attachment to the daughter and his desire to please her, he refrained from voicing his displeasure and resolved to be civil.

Elizabeth held her breath as she waited for Darcy's reply to her mother's question, painfully aware how it must have sounded to him. But at last his eyes rose to meet hers, and almost as if he was addressing Elizabeth and not her mother, he replied, "Thank you, madam, I rarely dance. But if Miss Elizabeth Bennet would favor me by renewing our acquaintance with a dance, I should be happy to deter from my custom."

Mrs. Bennet was all astonishment, and turned to her second daughter in amazement. "You have a previous acquaintance with Mr. Darcy, Lizzy?"

Elizabeth colored. "Yes, Mama. We met in Derbyshire, when I was traveling with my Aunt and Uncle Gardiner during the summer."

This pleased Mrs. Bennet very much. Not only had two very rich young gentlemen moved into the neighborhood, but one of them was already acquainted with her second daughter and pleased enough with her to ask for a dance! Things could only progress favorably from here.

"Well, Lizzy, what have you to say to Mr. Darcy?"

Elizabeth fought back the desire to reprimand her mother, and instead she turned her attention to Darcy and attempted a friendly smile. "I should be delighted to accept, sir."

Looking rather relieved, Darcy extended his arm to her. "Thank you, Miss Bennet. Shall we?"

She took his offered arm gratefully, and making an effort to forget Mrs. Bennet's meddling in the delightful chills that raced through her at his touch, they made their way toward the set.

When her mother was out of hearing, Darcy seemed to lose his reserve. Bending close to her ear he asked in his old tone familiarity, "And how have you fared since last I saw you, Miss Bennet?"

Elizabeth felt her embarrassment over her mother melt away at the pleasure of being in his company again, and looking up into his face she offered Darcy a bright smile.

"Very well, sir. Though I was sorry to leave you all in Derbyshire, my spirits have rallied tolerably. And now that you have come to Hertfordshire, I see that I want only your sister's dear presence to make me completely happy. But how have you been since last we met? I can see that you are well."

Darcy smiled and said earnestly, "And all the better now for the pleasure of seeing you again."

She laughed, his friendly remark easing her fears about his discomfort in such company. The desire to tease him rose in her once more, and she asked playfully, "Are we to begin all over again with this business of flattery? I thought we had decided my vanity would not withstand the test! For shame, sir, have you no scruples?"

By way of a response, he smiled and pressed her hand affectionately.

When they had reached the lines assembling for the dance, Elizabeth was obliged to release Darcy's arm and take her place. She realized with a little flutter of excitement as he stood opposite her that this was the first time she had danced with him, and indeed the first time they had been together in the presence of a large company. She gave another fleeting thought to her mother, hoping her enthusiasm and presumption had not seriously offended him, and as if in answer to her unspoken question, a squeal of delight from Lydia resonated from the far end of the set.

Darcy watched Elizabeth intently as she stood before him, and notice when the embarrassment for her sister's imprudence registered in her flushed cheeks. He could not pretend to be unconcerned with Miss Lydia's lack of regard for propriety, but he did not like to see it distress her sister. How fair she was, with such grace and such lightness of form! He thought for a moment that perhaps it had been unwise to ask her to dance and thus afford himself the opportunity of being overpowered by her charms. What should he care for the flaws of her mother and her younger sisters, when she herself was perfection?

The dance began, and realizing that Darcy was looking at her again in the same intense manner as he had done during those dream-like days at Pemberley, Elizabeth flushed with pleasure. They were silent at first, content to simply be in each other's company again, but soon the desire to speak rose in Elizabeth, and she was anxious to hear how he had spent the time in which they had been separated.

"Was London pleasing to you, sir?" she asked as they made their way down the set. "I hope your natural dislike of Town was lessened by your sister's presence there."

"Indeed, Miss Bennet, I was very glad to keep her company in Town. Though Pemberley may be the most beloved place on earth to me, to be in London with Georgiana is far preferable to being in Derbyshire with Lady Catherine."

Elizabeth laughed. "Your honesty does you credit, sir! And how was your dear sister when you quitted Town? I have not had a letter from her since last Tuesday."

At the mention of Georgiana, Darcy's features softened. "She is very well, though she proclaims every day how much she misses you. You should see her, Miss Bennet. She plays and sings for nearly half the day, and I believe she has become much easier in company too- not so painfully shy, and she often summons the courage to tease me a little. I cannot but think that her improvement is all to your credit, and I must take this opportunity to thank you again for befriending her."

Elizabeth smiled affectionately at the thought of her dear friend. "The pleasure, sir, was entirely my own, as I seem to recall having told you before. But I am very vexed that she did not see fit to inform me of your coming to Hertfordshire! I wonder, what could she mean by it? Do you know, Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy laughed. "As a matter of fact, madam, I believe I may safely say that my coming to Hertfordshire is entirely due to your own intervention."

Elizabeth's lips parted in surprise. "My intervention, sir? I'm afraid I don't understand."

A teasing smile hanging about his mouth, he replied lightly, "Why it was you, dear Miss Bennet, who told my sister of the vacancy at Netherfield Park, and with that knowledge sweet Georgiana was not selfish. Straight away she informed my good friend Bingley, who happened to be searching for a house in the country, telling him she thought Netherfield just the place to suit him, and before I was completely sensible of the whole affair, I found myself in a carriage bound for Hertfordshire."

Elizabeth laughed in earnest at this amusing recount of Georgiana's sly behavior. "Your sister is turning into quite the scheming young thing, Mr. Darcy, and I dare say we should both be wise to beware of her!"

He smiled. "But never was such conniving disguised with such sweetness. I think I had much rather be manipulated by Georgiana than by anyone else, as I know to be so would perhaps always be in my best interests, when I am too stubborn to see things as they are."

Elizabeth was touched by the evidence of his regard for his sister, and replied warmly, "I look forward very much to the time when she and I may be together again."

"As does Georgiana."

The dance separated them for a moment, and Darcy was afforded the brief opportunity to further survey the company. Flushed, lively faces surrounded him, faces of all ages and degrees of beauty, and some perhaps, rather too merry with drink than was perfectly respectable. The room was warm and crowded but the company was full of mirth, and resounding laughter could be heard at frequent intervals. Darcy caught a glimpse of Bingley further down the set, talking animatedly with Elizabeth's eldest sister, whom he could not help but admit seemed a generally pretty and sweet sort of girl. Darcy, who was rather partial to the quiet and peaceful rhythm of Derbyshire, could not help but feel slightly out of place here. He felt the prideful superiority rise in him again, and was about to adopt the old haughty air when he found Elizabeth's hands in his again.

She smiled sweetly at him, insensible it seemed of his prior thoughts, and Darcy at once felt rather ashamed of himself. There was no awkwardness here, nothing uncomfortable in the warmth of her gaze or the sweetness of her lovely mouth curled in half amusement as she looked up at him. Impulsively, he brought her hand to his lips.

"You cannot know with what impatience I endured the lengthy month of August, Miss Bennet," he told her quietly, so as not to let anyone else hear. "I missed you cruelly."

Elizabeth colored at his familiarity, but was not displeased with it. Perhaps he would not care after all about the wildness of her younger sisters or the silliness of her mother. And indeed she was possessed of some relations for whom she need not blush. The Gardiners he knew and respected already, Jane was the picture of gentleness and respectability, and her father, though perhaps sometimes too ready to exercise his satirical sense of humor at the expense of his wife and sillier daughters, could be quite a pleasant gentleman when he set his mind to it. But was she a fool to hope?

"I found the separation quite unwelcome as well, sir, and I am tremendously glad to see you again. How long will you stay, do you imagine?"

"That's really up to Bingley, I should think. But of course, he is easily swayed by the opinions of his sisters, and if they find the country too dull for their tastes they are likely to persuade him to return to Town. For my part, however, I am determined to keep Bingley at Netherfield for as long as may be."

Elizabeth found herself blushing again, but managed to fight against her embarrassment. "May I offer a hope that your efforts are successful, sir?"

He smiled fondly at her and replied warmly, "Indeed, you may, madam."

Finding the conversation growing a little too intimate for the time or the place, Elizabeth ventured to lighten her response. "For, to be sure, sir, Meryton society could do with a little variation now and then. We often grow tired of seeing the same faces at dinner and hearing the same conversation over coffee, and your sophisticated party from Netherfield should be very helpful in saving us from utter boredom with ourselves."

"Surely, madam, the situation cannot be so severe!"

"Oh, I'm afraid it is, sir, though I am excessively sorry to say it. Sometimes we may sit for hours together without saying a word. It is prodigiously dull."

He laughed softly. "Teasing woman! But I believe I have traced the source of your wit, Miss Bennet."

"Have you indeed? Pray, from whence does it come? My mother, sir?"

Darcy laughed. "No, my dear madam, though 'thou art as witty a piece of Eve's flesh as any in. . .' Meryton," he finished lamely.

Elizabeth laughed. "Shakespeare, sir?

"Oh yes. The Darcy edition."

"I'm afraid I'm not familiar with that particular text. You must acquaint me with it, when your leisure suits you. But I did not know you were an admirer of Twelfth Night, Mr. Darcy."

"Oh, well, I do think it rather amusing. Beyond that, my ignorance will betray me. But we digress, Miss Bennet. I was about to tell you that I discovered when your father came to call on us at Netherfield that he is indeed the inspiration behind your quick tongue."

She smiled. "How astute of you, sir. And did you like my father?"

"Very much. He is a clever man."

"Yes, perhaps rather too clever, and my poor dear mother, not clever enough. But I'm glad to know that you liked him."

"Is he not here this evening?"

"No. My father takes no enjoyment in this sort of gathering, and often complains of a headache when we are obliged to make an appearance at them. But we all know perfectly well that once we are gone he retires to his library, his sanctuary, with his books and his claret, and is as happy as a man ever was. But he did look truly ill this evening, and no one had the heart to insist he attend tonight."

Darcy's brow furrowed. "He did not look ill when we saw him at Netherfield two days ago."

Elizabeth shook her head. "It comes and goes. But I hope it is only a slight indisposition and that he will return to health by the week's end."

Darcy nodded. "Of course."

It was then that the dance ended, far too soon in Darcy's opinion, and he grasped Elizabeth's hand as she began to move away from the set, holding it firmly in his own in an effort to keep her.

"Will you dance the next with me, Miss Bennet?"

Her eyes clouded in disappointment. "I'm afraid I must decline, sir, for I have already promised the next two to Mr. Wentworth. I am very sorry to break our conversation so soon- indeed there is still so much I wish to hear about your stay in Town and about your dear sister, but I'm sure we may find another opportunity to speak later this evening."

Darcy agreed, disappointed, naturally, but unable to do anything about it. "Yes, I'm sure we shall. But I see it is now my duty to release you."

She smiled gratefully at him and pressed the hand that still lingered around hers. "I am very, very happy to see you again, Mr. Darcy. I hope that we may find ample time during your stay in Hertfordshire to strengthen our friendship."

He kissed her hand, loathe to part from her even for the length of two dances after such an intolerable period of separation. "You will find me most willing to comply with that hope, Miss Bennet."

Her eyes warmed towards him, and her lovely lips parted as if she would offer more, but she blushed, thinking better of it, and with another sweet smile for him, she turned and faded into the crowd.

* * *

Elizabeth kissed the top of her dear sister's head and squeezed her shoulder affectionately.

"We have talked far too long tonight, Jane, and I must retire at once if I am to be at all civil to anyone upon the morrow! Goodnight."

Jane smiled at her sister in the mirror at her dressing table, and laid down the brush that she had used to comb her long blonde hair. "Goodnight, Lizzy."

When she had made her rounds to the rooms of all her sisters and her mother, Elizabeth entered her own room and sank gratefully into bed. But her thoughts would not be silent in the darkness and sleep evaded her. What a surprise it had been to see him again, how unexpected! Her heart fluttered a little at the memory of the first time she had met his eyes that evening. She had been astonished beyond words, and yet a small part of her was not at all surprised to see him. She had imagined meeting him a thousand times and in a thousand different places, and somehow to truly see him before her had been at once a miracle and only as natural as loving him.

Over the course of the evening, their conversation and the looks he had given her only served to further her conviction that her affections and her heart were entirely his own. He had thrilled her with the intimacy and the confidence with which he spoke to her, the tenderness in the way he held her hands in his own. Her cheeks grew warm at the thought. How she longed to see him again, and as soon as may be! Perhaps her fears of the summer were baseless, and he only awaited the proper opportunity to make her an offer. Time would tell.

And then there was the anxiety over the actions and character of her mother and younger sisters, and indeed the general simple ignorance of the rest of Meryton society. She could not help but be embarrassed with their tendency to laugh too loudly, gossip too often, and drink too much. Elizabeth blushed even in the solitary darkness when she remembered how her mother had been the center of a rather intense discussion of Mr. Bingley's finer qualities that evening in tones that were rather too loud to be completely polite. And she remembered with pain how Darcy had stood by himself almost aloofly in a corner of the room, watching her dance with Mr. Wentworth and not making an effort to speak with anyone but those in his own party. She tried to reassure herself with the thought that he was simply used to quieter society, and would no doubt be more inclined to make conversation in a small, more dignified gathering.

But all these musings were too worrisome to be entertained for long, and soon Elizabeth's eyelids became heavy with sleep. It was useless to puzzle over them now, and much wiser to wait until she had more experience upon which to reflect. Until then, she would have to be content to drift into sleep with his face before her mind's eye, and his gentle words for her that evening echoing through her head.

* * *

Darcy sat on the ledge of the windowsill in his rooms at Netherfield and stared unseeingly into the darkness of the night sky. It was Elizabeth's face he saw and not the hills or the scattered trees, the front drive or the steps which led up to the entry. She had been lovelier than ever that evening, and his memory had not done her justice all those times he had thought of her during the closing days of the summer. Her fine, dark eyes especially haunted him, and the memory of how she had laughed and smiled nearly drove him to order for his horse to be saddled immediately and ride furiously over to Longbourn in order to offer her himself and everything else in his power to give her. But, the rational part of him argued, there were difficulties to this scheme which had been unseen until the events of the evening.

Mrs. Bennet had proved to be perhaps the flightiest, shallowest woman he had ever laid eyes upon, and even amongst the feather-heads of his London acquaintance she firmly held the distinction. Darcy could not help but be a little angered when he remembered how she had overtly discussed her determination to marry off her eldest daughter, admittedly a sweet, innocent girl, to Bingley, with whom her acquaintance had been barely an hour. Bingley had, of course, been blissfully ignorant of this as he basked in the glow of Miss Bennet's smiles, but Darcy had been all too sensible of it and had felt his friend's indignation for him. He would have to ensure that Bingley was not ensnared by his own naïveté.

The Misses Lydia and Kitty Bennet were certainly wild creatures. Darcy did not think he had passed a five minute interval without hearing their riotous laughter and pert, flirtatious remarks. The two girls had made rather a scene with their carryings-on, but instead of checking them, Mrs. Bennet had looked on their revels with indulgence and affection. Darcy was at a loss to discern how two such lovely, modest girls as Elizabeth and her elder sister could have been born into such a family!

But soon Darcy became ashamed of his harsh thoughts and berated himself for having entertained them. It was cruel of him to think so poorly of those who, despite their faults, must be dear to one so dear to him. She would be distressed to know that he had let his pride get the better of him, and resolved only to reflect upon those things with which Elizabeth would be pleased. This resolution failed, however, when his thoughts turned to the lady herself, who would surely blush in acute embarrassment and be furious with him if she knew how her affectionate behavior toward him in reality was augmented in his imagination. Yet how he longed to make her his own!

It was best to retire at once, he reasoned, and forget everything that vexed and frustrated him, abandoning them for more pleasant reflections. He was almost sure to see Elizabeth again before the week was out, and this was motivation enough to lay aside every other matter that demanded his attention. He would think on them tomorrow.

Part 2, Chapter 2

Posted on Wednesday, 12 February 2003, at 8:43 a.m.

The days following the assembly ball passed in relative quiet, the initial excitement inspired by the Netherfield party having ebbed to some degree. The Bennet household continued in their usual custom of affectionate, orderly chaos; Mr. Bennet was cured of his indisposition and felt marvelously improved, Lydia and Kitty argued regularly and fervently over bonnets and cloth, Mary practiced without ceasing at the pianoforte, and Mrs. Bennet's nerves were as poorly as ever. Jane continued in her duties with her customary sweetness and grace, and now and then, the thought of a certain gentleman who had so pleased her at the assembly ball brought a contented smile to her lips.

Elizabeth watched the workings of her family with affectionate amusement, delighting in the company of Jane and her father and despairing of Lydia and Kitty ever coming to their senses. But for all this, the first object of her thoughts was always Darcy, and it seemed to Elizabeth that everything held for her some reminder of him. She longed for the next opportunity to see him, and was anxious to know his intentions.

The chance presented itself soon enough, as five days after the assembly ball, Charlotte Lucas came to Longbourn bearing an invitation to a gathering at Lucas Lodge that very evening, a gathering to which the Netherfield party was also invited. The offered hospitality was received enthusiastically by the Bennets, especially by the two youngest girls, who had learned that the officers of the militia recently quartered at Meryton were to be in attendance.

When Elizabeth and her family arrived at the Lucas' that evening, she hardly knew what to expect. Though she was anxious to speak with Darcy again, she had no wish to make her attachment to him public, afraid of the rumors that might arise which would surely be offensive to him. But how to encourage his regard and satisfy her own desire for his company without appearing to monopolize him? Her mother had already made several reflections on how advantageous it was for her second daughter to be so agreeably connected with such an affluent gentleman, and raved on and on about his dancing with her at the assembly ball. Elizabeth had no wish to encourage her mother's imagination.

Those from Netherfield had not arrived when the Bennets made their appearance at Lucas Lodge, and so Elizabeth quickly fell into conversation with her dear friend Charlotte.

"There is quite a sensation over Jane's success with Mr. Bingley, Lizzy. Has she told you aught of the matter?"

Elizabeth smiled mischievously. "She met him in town yesterday afternoon, coming back from a ride. They talked for nearly half and hour, and when dear Jane returned she was quite radiant with delight."

Charlotte, a naturally serious and contemplative girl, furrowed her brow. "And Mr. Bingley, what is your opinion of him?"

"Well, based on so short an acquaintance, it is difficult to say. The fact that Jane likes him says hardly anything, as she would make a saint of anyone, but thus far I see no reason to think him anything but charming and agreeable. He has an open, pleasing countenance, and I should not be sorry to know him better."

Charlotte nodded thoughtfully. "And his friend, Mr. Darcy, what do you think of him?"

Elizabeth was careful to impede the color from rising in her cheeks at the mention of that gentleman's name. "I like him very much. We met previously in the summer you know."

"Yes, you told me. And do you find him as agreeable now as you did then?"

The blush would not be smothered and vaguely colored Elizabeth's cheeks. "Indeed."

Charlotte seemed not to notice her friend's embarrassment. "That is fortunate."

"I keep a correspondence with his sister," began Elizabeth, desirous of changing the subject. "She is a sweet and amiable girl, and I grew quite fond of her this summer. But I'm afraid the poor girl might have a weakness for Mr. Bingley."

"Indeed?"

"Yes. Though I cannot be certain of her regard for him, her letters often speak of how she delights in his character and his company. It should make for an awkward situation if Jane forms an attachment to Mr. Bingley."

"Yes, but Lizzy, a few lines praising a gentleman in a letter are hardly sufficient grounds for concluding that Miss Darcy is in love with him."

"Oh, of course I don't mean to suggest that. But she may, in her sweet, girlish way, fancy herself to be rather fond of him. It would be a shame should a first disappointment of that nature come in the person of a dear friend's sister."

Charlotte, ever the rationalist, smiled at Elizabeth and offered, "Well, in such a case, one might hope that Mr. Bingley should know his own mind. But it should be difficult for you, Lizzy, to endure the disappointment of either your sister or your friend."

Elizabeth sighed. "Well, let us hope that nothing comes of it." Then she laughed. "Listen to us, Charlotte! We talk as if the whole matter was already decided, and yet our acquaintance with Mr. Bingley has not been a week. What silly, assuming creatures we are, Charlotte. We would have him married to one or the other within a fortnight!"

Elizabeth's friend shook her head gravely. "I must beg to differ, dear Lizzy. These matters are of the utmost importance, and should be considered carefully from the start. Surely your sister's happiness shall come to depend on such reflections. Would you have her risk disappointment?"

Charlotte's manner of approaching the matter greatly surprised Elizabeth, and she replied, "Of course Jane's happiness means a great deal to me, but I think it best to let things take their natural course, and not attempt to aid or hinder them. We still know so little of Mr. Bingley, and I think it would be over hasty to jump to conclusions about his intentions; if indeed he has any."

Charlotte smiled softly, almost sadly at her friend. "Very well, Lizzy. I suppose we must hope, then, that to Jane at least, her own opinion and wishes on the subject will be clear."

"Yes, indeed."

It was then that the arrival of the Netherfield party, fashionably late, was announced. Sir William immediately demanded Mr. Bingley's full attention, but the rest of the party dispersed themselves throughout the gathering. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst attached themselves to Jane, whom the two had decided between themselves to be a sweet, promising girl and worth their patronage and condescension. Mr. Hurst was immediately reclined on a sofa, and no sooner was this done than he was drinking as well. Elizabeth was comforted by the thought that the company gathered this evening was much milder than the group assembled for last week's ball had been, and therefore Mr. Hurst was surely the likeliest to display the most reproachful behavior.

With this thought, she searched the company for the presence of Mr. Darcy, and when she had met his eyes, she offered him friendly smile, free from reservation. The gentleman nodded to acknowledge her, and smiled a little in return, his eyes warming. But a moment later his attention seemed to shift to recognize the presence of her friend, and with this shift his face turned quite serious again. Instead of coming over to join Elizabeth and Charlotte, as the former had been sure he would, he continued to stand by himself, a detached observer.

This concerned Elizabeth, for she could not decide what had displeased him and how she might remedy it. A sickening thought then came to her. Perhaps he was engaged, and felt remorse for the favor he had shown her and determination to retract it, for surely Charlotte's presence could not be offensive to him. But these reflections were painful to entertain, and so Elizabeth quickly devoted her attentions again to her conversation with Charlotte. But though she talked enthusiastically, making it a point to laugh gaily and laugh often, Elizabeth could still feel Darcy's eyes on her and the scrutiny of his gaze. Teasing man! If he was so determined to make a perusal of her, why did he not come over?

Charlotte seemed to notice Darcy's attentions and Elizabeth's discomfort, and remarked to her friend, "Mr. Darcy looks at you a great deal, Lizzy."

Elizabeth's laughter sounded forced and strained to her own ears as she tried to make light of Charlotte's comment. "I cannot think why. What offends him, do you think?"

"You told me just now that the two of you were good friends in the summer. Why should he look for faults in you now?"

"To tease me, I suppose."

Charlotte's eyebrows raised as she looked over at the gentleman in question, who was still standing rather aloofly off to himself. "Mr. Darcy seems not to me to be the teasing sort of man, Lizzy."

Elizabeth gave a passing glance in that gentleman's direction, feigning indifference. "He was very much so this summer, but the fall, or the company, seems to have checked him."

Charlotte heard the feeling behind this remark and was rather surprised and confused by it. Surely Elizabeth had not formed an attachment to this man! She had said nothing of him upon her return from Derbyshire. But if she did indeed harbor feelings for him, the attachment must be encouraged by all means. Charlotte was of the firm opinion that a woman ought to fall in love, or at least do her very best to persuade herself that she had, with a man of ten thousand a year, should the opportunity presented itself.

"Lizzy, why do you not go over and speak to Mr. Darcy? I'm sure he would be glad of your company."

Elizabeth studied her friend's face suspiciously, wondering what was in her mind. But she was glad for the excuse to speak to Darcy, and so, without much further thought to Charlotte's ulterior motives, she relented.

"Yes, I believe I shall. But you must save me a place beside you at the table when we go in to dinner."

"Of course."

Elizabeth pressed Charlotte's hand affectionately and, with a parting smile, crossed the room to where Darcy stood alone. His surprise at her approach was evident, but it seemed that her action pleased him, and he bowed readily over her offered hand.

"Good evening, Miss Bennet."

"And to you, Mr. Darcy." When he had released her hand she asked pleasantly, "How have you enjoyed your stay in Hertfordshire since I saw you last week?"

To her delight, he smiled, his former seriousness erased from his features. "Very well. It is beautiful country, and a welcome change from the crowds and noise of London."

"Yes, I'm sure. And Mr. Bingley, is he pleased with Netherfield?"

"Prodigiously so. I have never heard him make so many proclamations of contentment together, which, for my jovial friend, is quite saying something."

Elizabeth smiled. "I am glad to hear it. I hope his sisters and Mr. Hurst are equally pleased?"

Darcy hesitated, then replied shortly, "They like it well enough, I suppose."

A bit of an uncomfortable silence stretched between them then, and Elizabeth began to feel rather awkward. She wished to find an opportunity to extend their conversation beyond the simple pleasantries they exchanged, but somehow he seemed vaguely unwilling. What was he about? Surely he had not come this evening simply to be silent and removed!

As Darcy looked at her, his thought were filled again with how dear she was to him, how intolerable it should be that the constraints of the company and his own feelings of being out of place among them should alter how things should have been between himself and this woman. He felt somehow that in Hertfordshire society they should never be as they were before, that there was something essential missing which had been present in the summer. If only he could be sitting with her on that hillside at Pemberley again, watching the wind toy with her hair and hearing the merry ripples of her musical laughter. But how little he knew his own mind; how little he knew hers! Might they never be alone?

But her words soon drew him out of his thoughts. "I had a letter from your sister yesterday, Mr. Darcy."

The thought of Georgiana was a calming one, and Darcy allowed himself to smile. "As did I. What did yours read, Miss Bennet, if I may be so bold to ask?"

Elizabeth's fine eyes filled with affection as she talked of her friend. "She was good enough to inquire after my health and that of my dear family's, and does me the honor of missing my company. Her studies, she writes, continue to challenge her, and she grows more fond of the pianoforte every day. But I expect you know that, sir."

"Yes, she wrote to me much along the same lines." Darcy refrained from informing Elizabeth that Georgiana's letter had also contained a pert inquiry about when her brother intended to transform her beloved friend into her beloved sister.

"Has your sister any particular friends in London, Mr. Darcy?"

This, for Darcy, was a painful subject, and he smiled sadly at Elizabeth before he replied. "Not to speak of, Miss Bennet, besides the casual acquaintances a family of our standing in Town is obliged to keep. Dear Georgiana, as you know, is not the most sociable creature in society, which is why, I am persuaded, your friendship is so important to her." He paused, then added, "And to me."

Elizabeth saw a shadow of that same melancholy she had perceived in him when first she had tried to make him out on that afternoon on the Derbyshire hillside. She smiled sadly up into his face. "Though I delight daily in Georgiana's affection, I am sorry that she should find it so difficult to extend the same warmth to others. And yet, it does not surprise me."

Darcy had not expected a reply such as this. "I'm sorry?"

Elizabeth met his eyes sincerely, and to Darcy it seemed as though her looks penetrated all the shields he had set up for himself. "I believe Georgiana shares the natural reserve of her brother."

This, for reasons unknown to Darcy, was painful to him. "I see." His mouth was dry. Must she always see through him? How was it that he should so deeply love this woman who never failed to strip him of his defenses?

As if to replace one distracted thought with another, Elizabeth stepped closer and adopted in her voice low, familiar tones. "Why did you not come over when I was speaking with Charlotte Lucas just now? You looked as though you wished to."

He sighed, unable to answer the truth, knowing it would hurt her. "Miss Bennet. . ."

"Miss Lucas is a lovely creature; I'm sure you should like her. Why did you not join us?"

"I hardly know Miss Lucas; I dare say I should have been a great bore to her if I had marched over and proceeded to monopolize your conversation, or had simply stood between the two of you and not said a word."

A smile crept its way across her beloved lips, and soon a low ripple of laughter parted them, making it extremely difficult for Darcy to maintain the observation of propriety, else he be tempted to brush that laughing mouth with his own.

"You shall never make a proper acquaintance with the lady, sir, if you do not risk being the fool! How silly some men are!" She would have acted on the impulse to take his hand in her own and pull him gently along, but then thought better of it in such company. It would not do to have rumors of her "forward" behavior spread about Meryton and put her mother in a flutter. Elizabeth settled instead for looking up at her companion with a teasingly imploring smile.

For Darcy, it was quite maddening to have her gazing up at him with such a look and not to be at liberty to respond in the manner to which he felt provoked. With such looks he would have willingly enslaved himself to her every whim, but even as he was so compelled by her, he was aware of the voice of reason's nagging reminders at the back of his mind. He was all too aware that he was not among dignified, sophisticated society, that he had no desire to speak to Miss Lucas, or indeed anyone else in the room save the enchanting lady before him now, who seemed to defy all his attempts to resist her charms. A sort of disappointment rose in him. Why could not things be as they were at Pemberley?

Elizabeth must have sensed his thoughts, for her fine eyes clouded, and she silently looked away. Darcy felt a cad, but what could he could he do?

"Miss Bennet, I beg you would not. . ."

"Lizzy, Lizzy!" Quite unexpectedly, a whirlwind in the person of Lydia Bennet descended upon them and took hold of Elizabeth's arm with great enthusiasm. The latter turned to her younger sister with a cross look and a reprimand on her lips, but Miss Lydia neither noticed nor cared, and plunged into a recount of her excitement.

"Oh Lizzy, we are to form a set in the sitting room, and you must come and dance with Captain Carter! Think how wild with envy Kitty shall be! What a good joke! You must come at once!" Lydia added force to her argument by giving her sister's arm a rather vigorous tug.

"Lydia, please!" Elizabeth was vexed and embarrassed that her sister should display such wild behavior in front of Darcy, who was already looking quite displeased.

This, however, was quite lost on Lydia, who was impatient to join the others lest the dance begin without her. "Oh I'm sure Mr. Darcy shan't mind, shall you sir? I dare say he should be just as happy to stand off to himself and observe the festivities."

Elizabeth was shocked at her sister's presumption and blatant want of tact. "Lydia!"

Miss Lydia's heedless remark made things rather uncomfortable for Darcy, but he kept his face a mask of guarded indifference. "Do not allow me to keep you, Miss Bennet," he said flatly.

Elizabeth turned injured eyes upon him, hurt by his coldness. At this, Darcy softened toward her and nearly retracted his words, but Lydia was quick to seize the opportunity of the momentary silence and pulled her sister away. Elizabeth barely managed a "pray, excuse me," and a look of heartfelt apology before Lydia hustled her off to where the dance was assembling.

"He's handsome to be sure, Lizzy," said Lydia to Elizabeth as they retreated, speaking loud enough for her words to carry distinctly to Darcy's burning ears, "and rich enough to make you a brilliant match, but I dare say you might find someone not so horribly dull and disagreeable! My poor sister, what an insufferable bore!"

* * *

Bonnet in hand, face flushed with exercise, Elizabeth reached the crest of the last hill on the three mile trek between Longbourn and Netherfield. Shading her eyes from the morning sun with her hand, she peered out toward the prospect of the house and sighed heavily. Poor, dear Jane!

Elizabeth had not been overwhelmingly pleased with her mother when the latter had sent Jane off on horseback in the rain to dine with Mr. Bingley's sisters, and now that the expedition had resulted in Jane's catching of a fever and being taken to bed, Elizabeth was even less disposed to overlook her mother's thoughtlessness. She had insisted that morning at breakfast to be allowed to visit her sister at Netherfield, but instead of receiving a simple and sensible agreement, Elizabeth had been made to suffer through her mother's raptures over what a lovely opportunity it should be for her second daughter to further renew her acquaintance with a certain gentleman temporarily in residence there. It was all too much to be borne. Elizabeth had simply asserted in the plainest of terms that she only intended to stay long enough to see how Jane fared, and that a social call was quite out of the question. Mr. Bennet, who found the whole of the matter vastly amusing, was more than willing to extend his permission when he was petitioned for it, but could not resist a bit of teasing at his daughter's expense before she departed for Netherfield.

That endured, Elizabeth had covered the three miles from Longbourn on foot, preferring to be out in the open. The walk also provided her with the opportunity to reflect in solicitude, as well as a possible excuse for avoiding the company of the Netherfield party, most of whom would no doubt find the slight disorder of her hair and the bit of mud on her petticoat to be a disgraceful manifestation of country manners. Though Elizabeth liked Mr. Bingley exceedingly, she was aware that his sisters, by some hindrance of their own snobbish superiority, could not extend the same compliment to herself. She had much better escape to Jane as soon as possible and let them gossip about her behind her back rather than endure their knowing looks and conspiring smiles. And as for Darcy, she hardly knew what he would think. . .

It seemed impossible to Elizabeth that something which had been so heavenly in the summer could turn so baffling by the fall. Perhaps it had truly been too wonderful to last, but she still could not make out the reason for this sudden change in him. Lydia's behavior at the Lucas' had offended and hurt Elizabeth for his sake, and it distressed her very much that Darcy should have been the victim of it. The effects of her sister's thoughtlessness had been evident for the rest of the evening, as Darcy had stood silently to himself for the majority of the time, rarely speaking to anyone outside his own party. There were moments when Elizabeth thought he might come over to speak with her again, but invariably someone else would step in to claim her attention, and he would refrain from joining them. This pained Elizabeth, as well as making her feel a little angered towards him. Why should he be so stiff and silent here when he had been so warm and open at Pemberley? The people of Meryton were an unsophisticated and rather unrefined bunch to be sure, but they certainly meant well and tried their best to be agreeable in their artless country way. Why then was Darcy so altered among them?

And then there was this matter of Jane's illness and the insufferableness of her mother's hints and schemes. Was it possible for a woman to be sillier or possess a slighter sense of delicacy? It was all very vexing indeed, and there was really nothing to be done about. "Dear, foolish Mama!" thought Elizabeth. "What a mess she's made of things!"

It was then, as Elizabeth walked round a rather large fir tree that had obstructed her view of the path ahead, that she came face to face with Mr. Darcy himself. From the look that crossed his face at the sight of her, it seemed that he shared her surprise at the suddenness of the unexpected meeting. And when the initial start had passed in Elizabeth's mind, it was speedily replaced by embarrassment over how wild she must look. She might have, perhaps, been surprised to know that the gentleman's thoughts were far from critical, but rather dwelled favorably on her tousled hair and increased color.

"Miss Bennet!"

"Mr. Darcy."

That gentleman, at a loss to fathom why she should be wandering about Netherfield's grounds, but very delighted to have discovered her all the same, recovered from his surprise enough to inquire, "Do you often walk this way, madam?"

Elizabeth, for reasons she could not quite identify, blushed again and was promptly furious with herself. "No, not often, sir. I am come to inquire after my sister."

"On foot?" Darcy immediately cursed his own stupidity.

Elizabeth could not help but smile in spite of her embarrassment at this, amused by his inquiry and the look that followed it. "As you see. Would you be so kind as to take me to her?"

Seeing that she smiled, Darcy brought himself to smile too, and motioned good-naturedly in the direction of the house. With a word of thanks she fell into step beside him. As they walked, and after the initial awkwardness, both were relieved to discover that they could fall into conversation with relative ease, despite the lady's earlier frustration and the gentleman's continuing misgivings. And when they parted company in the front hall, the minds of both dwelled on what possibilities their next meeting might hold.

* * *

Darcy's cue struck the billiard ball, and as he straightened he watched as it knocked the rest and sent them sprawling about the table. He was determined to guard against future lucky victories by a heedlessly striking Bingley, and equally resolved to hide in the billiard room, where he knew he was quite safe, from Miss Bingley's tiresome company.

More importantly, however, Darcy was desperate for distraction. The knowledge that Miss Elizabeth Bennet was to be Bingley's guest at Netherfield until her sister was recovered was likely to drive Darcy mad with internal conflict. Though he was as certain as ever that his attachment to her was strong and sincere, he was beginning to see that her connections would prove a difficult obstacle to the match. Darcy was not so proud as to consider their less exalted rank in society beneath him, but the conduct of the majority of them was highly reprehensible. What would his London acquaintance think were he to procure such a mother-in-law, vulgar and chattering, without a thing in her head but marriage and trivialities? This, perhaps, would be excusable in a titled gentlewoman whose husband's yearly income exceeded five thousand a year, but could hardly be overlooked in a woman of no connections and hardly any fortune, whose husband's estate was to be entailed away on a distant cousin.

And to add strength to these objections, surely there was Georgiana to think of. What sort of considerate brother and prudent guardian would contract for his sister such wild, ill-mannered relations to do nothing but display for her their careless follies? Miss Jane Bennet was, granted, everything fair and amiable, but her quiet, gentle ways were no match for Miss Lydia's frequent shrieks of laughter and Miss Kitty's constant lamentations of how unkindly she had been used by everybody. And did their father see to it that they were checked? No! Indeed, Mr. Bennet found the folly of his wife and youngest daughters more amusing than could anyone else.

But Elizabeth, sweetest, loveliest Elizabeth! The warmth and richness of her dark eyes and the pert twist of her lovely mouth filled his thoughts, leaving no room for the numerous faults and flaws of her family. He would marry her tomorrow if she would have him! For her sake it pained him to think so meanly of her connections, and with remorse he thought of his conduct at the Lucas' in response to it. Once again, in spite of himself, he had allowed his insufferable pride and stiffness in a little-known company to silence him when he should have conversed and to make him cold and disagreeable when he should have been kind. And Elizabeth had seen, and been hurt by his conduct. Foolish arrogance! He had wanted nothing throughout the entirety of the evening than to have her sweet smiles and light, clever conversation all to himself, and this desire, instead of causing him to seek her society, kept him from her when he saw that she was constantly surrounded by friends and admirers.

His pride had told him he was beneath competing for her attentions, and that evening he'd been only too happy to listen and obey. But when his eyes had met hers across the room, he saw that she understood his thoughts and took no pleasure in them. He was heartily sorry for the blunder now, and wished to make Elizabeth every amends, if only they might restore their friendship as it had been in Derbyshire. Perhaps an opportunity would present itself whilst she was a guest under Netherfield's roof.

Just then, as he was leaning over the table to take his next shot, the lady herself appeared in the doorway of the billiard room, dressed in evening attire. Darcy straightened so that he might bow to her, and upon raising his eyes to meet her gaze, he saw that a slight blush had risen in her cheek, and it was obvious she had not expected to encounter him and that the meeting caused her some embarrassment.

As she rose from the hasty curtsey she had dropped him, she apologized for the intrusion, which Darcy secretly welcomed, saying, "Excuse me, sir. I was attempting to find my way to the dining room, and I fear my ineptitude has disturbed you."

Darcy shook his head and permitted himself the pleasure of smiling at her. "No no, do not trouble yourself, Miss Bennet. I was practically finished here as it is, and as your company is far more agreeable to me than billiards, I welcome the displacement of one pleasure for its superior."

She seemed pleased by his good humor and made no attempt to refrain from such herself. "Well, now I am sure I may credit your forgiveness, sir, as you have the goodness to tease me with your flattery. I must confess myself quite embarrassed by my mistake. I have not been inside Netherfield above twice in my life, and before today had never seen any room but the front parlor. But I have the pleasure of discovering that it is indeed as lovely inside as is the prospect one views from without."

"Yes, to be sure. Miss Bingley has managed to make comfortable arrangements for you whilst you are with us, I hope?"

"Oh yes, quite, thank you. I am as near to poor dear Jane as may be, which is all I really ask, and the room is very lovely indeed. It still seems so strange that I should be staying here at all; everything came to pass so suddenly. Your friend Mr. Bingley is quite a hospitable gentleman, Mr. Darcy."

"He is indeed, madam. Bingley has the good fortune to be very fond of people in general, and likes to see them as comfortable and merry as it is in his power to make them. He is, perhaps, too trusting of some, but his easy manners and generous nature far extend his faults, and I am convinced there should be more like him."

Elizabeth smiled thoughtfully. "He is fortunate to have so devoted a friend."

Darcy returned her smile. "I do what I can to keep him out of harm's way." He was silent a moment, then, seeing his opportunity to ask her pardon and thinking it best to do so without further delay, he took a deep breath, and began. "Miss Bennet, I believe it falls to me to offer you an apology."

Elizabeth's brow furrowed. Could she have forgotten? "An apology, sir?"

"Indeed. My conduct at the Lucas' gathering was beneath me, and I have the unhappy knowledge that it must have offended you. Please, pardon my stubborn pride, for I am fully aware that it is unbecoming, and I dare not risk your good opinion, which you know I value exceedingly."

Darcy watched as the initial hesitation slipped from her face and her features softened toward him, and before she had even spoken, he had the relief of knowing he was already forgiven. Wonderful, generous woman! Her perfections were ever increasing.

In gentle accents she replied, "There is no call for an apology, Mr. Darcy. I dare say you and I understand one another."

Darcy could not help but let an ironical smile cross his lips. If only she knew what an enigma she was to him! But soon he brought her to meet his affectionate gaze, and answering her with warmth and sincerity, he said, "You are very good, Miss Bennet." Then he smiled lightly and added, "and very sensible too, for had you refused to forgive me now, I would have kept after you for your pardon until you had granted it!"

She laughed merrily. "Well, then I suppose we may both be glad I have behaved so satisfactorily. Though, I must confess, to see the proud Mr. Darcy of Pemberley grovel at one's feet might have been rather gratifying to one's personal vanity; hypothetically speaking, of course."

"Indeed, hypothetically."

She laughed again and extended her hand to him. "Come, sir, you must show yourself truly repentant and guide me to the dining room, for I am sure I may never get there on my own."

He smiled by way of response, content with the temporary truce they had made, and re-donning his coat, which had been draped over a nearby chair, he took her hand and tucked it into his elbow. "Shall we join the others, madam?"

The corners of her expressive lips turned upward in amusement and the fine dark eyes danced with good-humor. "Lead on, sir. I will follow."

* * *

After a pleasant enough dinner, the company retired to the sitting room for cards and tea. Mr. Hurst, Mr. Bingley, and the latter gentleman's two sisters engaged in a few rather competitive rounds of whist. Elizabeth was invited to join them but declined, preferring a book to the critical society of Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst.

They had been in rare form at dinner, making sly remarks for the sake of the gentlemen about the nature of Meryton society and being sure to parade their own superiority for Elizabeth's benefit. It was also made plain in the course of the evening that Miss Bingley's sole preoccupation in life, aside from gratifying her every selfish whim, was to shackle Mr. Darcy to herself with the iron bands of matrimony. That gentleman, however, much to Elizabeth's amusement, seemed quite adverse to and rather bored with the prospect, and ventured to ignore her whenever the lady's objective became especially obvious.

But Miss Bingley was clearly determined to emerge the victor. She sensed, with that feminine perception instilled in all women determined to catch for themselves a husband, that Darcy admired Miss Eliza Bennet far more than was befitting any woman besides herself; and therefore, she felt it her solemn duty to discredit this rival for the gentleman's regard.

Upon Elizabeth's rejection of the invitation to play at cards with the rest of the party, Miss Bingley saw just such an opportunity, and was quick to take it up.

"Miss Eliza Bennet despises cards," she declared, smiling smugly from her place beside her brother at the table. "She is a great reader and has no pleasure in anything else."

Elizabeth, who was not unaware as to what Miss Bingley was about and why she was thus addressed, laid aside her book and replied civilly to her hostess, "I deserve neither such praise nor such censure. I am not a great reader and take pleasure in many things."

Miss Bingley, seeing that her attempt to force Miss Eliza Bennet into defending herself had only resulted in a reply which she could not refute, quickly changed the subject. If she could not expose Miss Eliza's weaknesses, than she would blind Mr. Darcy to her entirely by doing her best to monopolize his conversation.

"Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring?" she asked, turning from Elizabeth to address that lady's brother, who was sitting a little to himself with a book, obviously from a desire to be exempt from the dialogue of the rest of the party. "Is she as tall as me?"

Darcy, who knew Miss Bingley's thoughts better than she did herself, answered shortly, without taking his eyes from his book, "Indeed. She is now about Miss Elizabeth Bennet's height, or a little taller." Then, catching the latter lady's eye, Darcy saw his opportunity to upset Miss Bingley's intentions. Setting his book aside and markedly turning from his friend's scheming sister, he fixed his attentions upon Elizabeth.

"What says the insightful Miss Bennet? Is my dear sister your equal or Miss Bingley's in height?"

Elizabeth saw the teasing light in his eye and knew immediately what he had in mind, and as she found the situation rather entertaining herself, was hard pressed to keep the smile from her lips. Clasping her hands behind her casually, she did her best to appear as if she was considering the matter impassively.

"To the best of by knowledge, sir, I must conclude that Miss Darcy is quite between Miss Bingley and myself. I could, perhaps, form a more educated opinion should the comparison be made between my good hostess and myself now, but I am sure that she infinitely prefers cards to the project as I prefer my book to both endeavors."

A small smile formed on Darcy's lips. "Well spoken, Miss Bennet."

"Thank you, sir. I hope everyone is satisfied on the matter. Are you satisfied, Miss Bingley?"

When appealed to, the lady in question could only shrug her shoulders in a fashion that denoted haughty indifference. Internally, however, she was faced with the unsettling knowledge that she had been beaten, though she was not entirely certain how it had come about.

The rest of the evening passed in relative quiet. Miss Bingley made a few further attempts at shaming Miss Eliza into silence over a general discussion of ladies' accomplishments, the ideal models for which, of course, were her own, but soon found herself to be no match for the combined wit of Darcy and Elizabeth. The latter returned to her ailing sister that night with a subdued little smile of amusement lighting her features, and a warm glow in her cheek for the memory of how a certain gentleman's playful looks had met hers with such frequency. In such moments of pleasurable reflection, it seemed quite reasonable to entertain the thought that precious wishes might indeed be gratified in the future, and refusing to contemplate earlier vexations, Elizabeth ventured to nurture every treasured hope.

Darcy, when he had retired to his rooms and was at last alone, could not help but chuckle at the blind, jealous fool Miss Bingley had made of herself. As his thoughts turned to the lady whose clever wit had helped him to put his friend's snobbish sister soundly in her place, his laughter resolved in a contented smile, the first he had enjoyed since her departure from Derbyshire. Tonight he would not suffer the anxiety of musing over her frivolous mother's faults or the wildness of her younger sisters, and in their stead he would dwell on sweet Elizabeth's lovely perfections.

* * *

The next morning, Elizabeth was only too happy to have the opportunity to escape the house and wander on her own for a bit in the fresh early morning air. Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst were still abed, quite sound asleep, and the gentlemen had gone out shooting very early, and thus there was no one at Netherfield who required her company. With a careful peek in on Jane, who was resting as comfortably as could be expected, Elizabeth donned her coat and bonnet and set off for the hills.

It was a very lovely morning indeed, especially beautiful for late September, and for a few moments, Elizabeth was content to forget those things she was so apt to reflect upon whilst alone. Her pace was brisk, though she did not know entirely where she meant to direct her steps, but as it was early and it did not look as if it should rain, she continued on without troubling herself over the matter. Being the regular, enthusiastic walker that she was, Elizabeth knew the paths of this part of Hertfordshire better than any other, and as the fear of getting lost was not a concern, her thoughts were only for the delight of the wisping of the cool morning breeze about her face.

But other notions would soon intrude upon her reverie, and a glance back at Netherfield recalled to Elizabeth her sister's predicament. Poor, sweet Jane! How abominable it was that she should be sacrificed to her mama's flighty notions of husband catching, and how insupportable it was to hear the affected declarations of concern and devotion made by Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. Why they thought it necessary to adopt Jane as their own, Elizabeth had no idea, but Jane would not hear a word against them, and her sister had not the heart to argue, though Mr. Bingley's sisters certainly did their best to belittle and scorn Elizabeth. Her comfort was that Jane's health was making significant improvement, and with any luck they should both be back at Longbourn by the close of the week.

However, there was the problem of Mr. Bingley himself to consider. He was, by all standards, a most pleasing young man, lively and certainly amiable, of good conversation and manners, well bred, and very handsome. Elizabeth could not blame her sister for liking him as much as she seemed to, nor could she criticize Mr. Bingley for appearing so attached to Jane. But it was the very nature of this budding attachment that concerned Elizabeth. What of dear, sweet Georgiana?

Her recent letters had led Elizabeth, who prided herself on her ability to read between the lines, to believe that her young friend was quite enamored with Mr. Bingley, and Elizabeth was intensely sorry that her sister's happiness should come at her friend's disappointment. Elizabeth delighted in seeing her sister so admired, and could not be more pleased with the gentleman who held her in such high esteem, but poor Georgiana! Perhaps Charlotte had been right, and Elizabeth would have to choose between supporting the happiness of her sister or the happiness of her friend.

Elizabeth ceased her pace, which had progressively slowed as her thoughts became more weighty, and now she leaned against a nearby oak tree to admire the view of the valley below. Autumn's presence had taken a firm hold on the Hertfordshire countryside, and now the hills were dotted with orange and red testaments to the changing season. Elizabeth took a breath of the sweet, frosted air and then sighed. What ages ago seemed the summer, and how far away was Derbyshire. . .

She could never hold off thinking of him for long. But she had quite given up last night's foolish harboring of hopes that could never be gratified. With the morning Elizabeth's sensibilities were once more subject to her sense, and though she still believed that she was very much in love with Darcy, she could not deny that there were insuperable barriers obstructing an alliance between them. She had been silly last night to let herself imagine for a moment that such considerations would not matter to him, and she knew that, though perhaps he might like and respect her every bit as much as she did him, Mr. Darcy was obliged to look for far more important qualities in a wife than pleasant conversation and agreeableness. Therefore, it would surely be the wisest course of action to forget him forever and attach herself to some deserving clergyman or officer or another such gentleman. She should not be happy, but she would be content, and that, concluded Elizabeth, was all anybody could really hope for.

But as she looked out over the valley and breathed the sweetness of the cool autumn air, and watched as the sun climbed in the sky over the hill, she knew that such a resolution would never be so easily carried out. Foolish, blind, childish as it was, Elizabeth was hopelessly attached to him, and the very thought of giving him up, even giving him up for his own good, was intolerable to her. She thought back to that day on the hillside at Pemberley, when he had nearly kissed her, and remembered his contented smile, his companionable laughter, and the way the sun had rested on his dark hair. Giddy weakness! But one could never live out the rest of one's life on the strength of a single happy memory.

Elizabeth's train of thought was interrupted when she was startled by the sound of a twig snapping beneath someone's step, and she turned in surprise to see who it was that had joined her. It was, in fact, the very gentleman on whom her reflections had been centered. He colored when she had seen him, embarrassed for being caught approaching the lady without having warned her. But the sight of him soon dispensed with Elizabeth's astonishment, and despite the melancholy thoughts she had been entertaining on his account, she was willing to hope that Darcy's presence would cheer her, and so greeted him with an amicable smile.

"Good morning, Mr. Darcy. This is an unexpected pleasure. I had thought you and the other gentlemen to be engaged in a little early morning sport."

Darcy, who had recovered from the initial awkwardness of his position, was now able to reply congenially, "Oh, yes of course. Well, Bingley and Hurst are still at it, but I don't care much for shooting and so separated from the party and set out on my own for a walk. I do hope I haven't disturbed your solitary reverie, Miss Bennet?"

"No, no indeed. I have been walking myself, as you can readily surmise, and just stopped here a moment to admire the view and the sunrise. I was just deciding to continue on when you happened upon me. I hope you'll not be adverse to joining me now that we have met?"

He smiled fondly at her request, and the memory that had haunted Elizabeth prior to his arrival once more flashed before her mind's eye. "I confess, I had no other wish but to continue on with you, madam."

Elizabeth returned his smile serenely. "Splendid. And where is it that you were heading, sir?"

"To own the truth, I hardly know. I seem to have wandered into unfamiliar territory, and I would appreciate your expert opinion as a native, Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth's smile widened. "Shall I lead you on then, sir, and return your favor to me last evening?"

The warmth in Darcy's eyes seemed to grow, and he replied in that quiet, sincere manner of his, "Please do, madam."

Elizabeth extended her hand as a signal to follow her, and Darcy willingly fell into step beside her when she began walking in the direction she indicated. For a moment, he was content to observe her silently, admiring the healthy glow in her cheek and the locks of dark hair that blew about the nape of her neck in the morning breeze. She was indeed fair, and growing more so in his estimation by the day, but he knew that there were more matters to be considered than her personal perfections. He cursed himself for being foolish enough to entertain such favorable thoughts of a woman he could never claim as his own, then cursed himself for being an unfeeling idiot. Wonderful, unattainable woman! She would surely drive him mad.

"Do you often spend your mornings in this agreeable fashion, Miss Bennet?" The civil inquiry seemed laughably commonplace after such tumultuous reflections.

"Yes, whenever I can manage it," replied Elizabeth in good humor, completely insensible of her companion's internal battle with himself for her sake. "I am an early riser and usually find that there is never very much with which to occupy myself in a house still full of sleepers. Besides, as you know, sir, I am quite devoted to fresh air and exercise."

He smiled. "Yes, I know. And now that I have seen your little part of Hertfordshire myself, I can no longer wonder at the inspiration for your fondness for nature. It is undoubtedly the beauty of your home."

Elizabeth found her spirits once more equal to laughter. "You discover new insights into my soul daily, Mr. Darcy. I very much wonder what it is that you will uncover tomorrow."

Darcy smiled at her teasing, thinking to himself that she could not know the full truth of her own remark. He replied in the same playful manner, "I sincerely hope that, whatever I happen to learn of you upon the morrow, Miss Bennet, it will not be anything too terribly shocking."

"Well, I am sure that if you petitioned Miss Bingley for an opinion on the subject, she would be vastly happy to acquaint you with my vulgar want of decorum and disgraceful country manners." Elizabeth laughed again. "By her standards I am certainty very shocking indeed."

Darcy laughed too. "And considering that she is now smarting under the teasing she received at our hands last evening, I dare say she will not be disposed to amending that opinion favorably at present."

"Yes, to be sure. But I think, Mr. Darcy, if you'll forgive my boldness, that you yourself shall have to do a great deal more to vex and displease her before being singled as the object of Miss Bingley's scorn as I am."

Darcy smiled ruefully. "I see you have discovered Miss Bingley's treasured intentions, Miss Bennet."

"They are rather obvious, sir."

"Yes, unfortunately. I don't mind telling you, madam, that I had rather be a dead man with the whole of my estate entailed upon Geor... that is. . . my worst enemy than to be married to that woman. It is ungracious of me, I know, and ungenerous as her brother is my greatest friend, but, so help me, she has brought it upon herself!"

Elizabeth laughed. "You may depend upon my secrecy, sir, however sorely I am tempted to return Miss Bingley's snubs with tales of your disclosure. But what can make her so determined to have you? Though you are among the kindest and best of men, sir, I daresay she does not love you, and were she merely a fortune hunter, I should think that your indifference to her would lead her to set her cap at someone else. Considering all this, she is quite persistent."

"The answer to your question, madam, is simple. Miss Caroline Bingley is amongst the most conceited ladies in fashionable society, which I assure you, dear Miss Bennet, is saying quite a lot, and were the whole of her acquaintance, all of whom know of her conquest, to learn that she had given me up, her pride might never recover from the blow."

Elizabeth's mouth twisted in amusement. "Poor soul. I see I really must pity her; and thank you as well, sir."

Darcy looked bemused. "Thank me, madam?"

Elizabeth feigned sincerity. "Yes indeed, Mr. Darcy, for you have done me the service of providing me with another reason to despise her; which is intelligence always welcome to one spurned as I am; and now I may dwell upon her snobbery towards myself with all the indignity I like, silencing my conscience with the recollection of your good information."

He laughed. "I am glad to be of service to you, Miss Bennet. Poor Miss Bingley indeed! With an adversary such as yourself, I dare say she deserves all the pity she may exact!"

"Ah, but sir! They say that pity is a degree to love, and were you to extend yours to Miss Bingley, you might perhaps be placing yourself in graver danger than you imagine."

"Then what shall I do, Miss Bennet? Pray, advise me."

Elizabeth smiled wickedly. "You shall continue to provide me with knowledge of her less amiable qualities, that we may have the pleasure of flattering ourselves by censuring the flaws of others."

Darcy laughed. "I see that you are not so blameless as I have been led to expect, madam."

"First impressions can be misleading." Then she laughed. "Poor Miss Bingley! Even if it were not for the fact that her pride demands her current conquest continue, I am sure she is quite desperate to corner the one man she has set her sights on before anyone else can snatch him away! It is hard, do not you think, that there should be so many more young ladies eligible for marriage than there are suitable young men looking for a wife? The predicament certainly brings out the worst in we ladies; it rather reminds me of watching my two youngest sisters quarrel over a bonnet or a bit of lace."

He smiled in quiet amusement at the analogy. "How right you are, madam. But you must concede, the matter is rather different when the bit of lace is accompanied by several thousand pounds a year and a house in a fashionable quarter of Town."

"You are displeased that I make light of the matter then, sir?"

"Not at all; I only elaborate. I think it is very charming when you go about one of your cleverly humorous observations, Miss Bennet."

This remark earned him another taste of her laughter. "I know not if they are either clever or humorous, sir, but I am glad to be of some little amusement to you. For as we all know, the greatest social sin of all is to be dull." But before the words had fully escaped her lips she was heartily sorry for them, painfully aware that she had recalled to mind for them both the incident of Lydia's foolish words at the Lucas'. She watched as his face grew stern and grave, and found the proof of her suspicion that he had overheard Lydia's slight. He was retreating into himself again, and Elizabeth had the pain of knowing her thoughtless slip had broken the delicate truce they had reached in the billiard room the previous evening. It would never do! But what could she say to recall him to herself?

A thick silence had wedged its way between them, but while Darcy was content to torture himself with censure and to brood over Miss Lydia's bad manners, Elizabeth was resolving herself to making a sincere apology on her sister's behalf. She took a deep breath.

"Mr. Darcy, I see it is now my office to beg your pardon. Sir, my sister is very young and very headstrong, but not very wise. She has no understanding of the world and hardly any idea of how she ought to behave politely in it. She has been indulged too often by a doting mother, and perhaps ignored too often by a sharp-witted father. You must not think I speak in this way to dismiss her faults, but I trust that my words may help you to forgive them."

Darcy was struck again with the oddity of two such wildly different young ladies sharing common parents. One pert, crass, and forward, the other clever, affectionate, and everything lovely. How could he punish her for the defects of her relations, and even should he attempt it, would he be able to resist her? Better to forgive everything in a moment than to suffer the cruel pangs of a forced necessity to be cold and unfeeling to her.

"You are a very wise young woman, Miss Bennet, and I would be a fool indeed if I allowed your sister's behavior to govern my attitude toward yourself. I told you in the summer, and repeated to you last evening, that I value our friendship more than I can say, and I would not have it broken by a few unguarded words on the part of another. As far as I am concerned, you may consider that matter forgotten."

Relieved, Elizabeth allowed herself to smile warmly up at him. "You are very generous, sir, and I thank you."

Darcy found it a relief to drop his severity and return her smile. He even rallied his good humor enough to tease her. "You call me generous, madam, but I'll confess to you that my motives are entirely selfish. I desire to maintain the confidence between us, and for the sake of your good opinion, I should probably pardon your vivacious sister even for burning Pemberley to the ground!"

She laughed. "Well, perhaps you would, but I could not! We must therefore conspire to keep her from Derbyshire at all costs!"

"As you wish, good madam." Then he turned serious again. "I was very much in earnest when I said just now that I have a high regard for our friendship, Miss Bennet. Indeed, your confidence means a great deal to me."

She smiled thoughtfully. "Well, as I told you in the summer, you will always have it and my good opinion."

"Will I? Shall we make a pact with one another, Miss Bennet? To hold firm even whilst your sisters are wild for dancing partners and Miss Bingley for a husband?" Her laughter encouraged him; "Though Pemberley burns to dust and we are both sacrificed to a 'suitable match'? Though summer fades into autumn and we are both driven to the far ends of the earth? Shall we Miss Bennet?"

She smiled merrily up into his face. "And should you really bear all Miss Bingley's displeasure for my sake, sir?"

"My courage is fixed and I shall not falter. Though, as much as I had rather it not be so, I fear that you perhaps, my dear friend, will be the primary target of her assaults."

"Then you will defend my honor?"

He reached for her hand and kissed it gallantly. "To the death, my good lady."

She laughed. "Then I think we are agreed, noble sir. I should be more than happy to declare myself your devoted friend and confidante."

He smiled at her, content, and kissed her hand again, this time lingering over her fingers and pressing them affectionately before tucking her arm through his. When he spoke his voice was light but sincere. "You are sweetness itself, fair and dearest friend."

She colored but at the same time could not hold back her smile. "I hope that we may always speak honestly with one another, sir."

"And I as well. Your mind is a treasure to me, Miss Bennet, and I am honored that you deem me worthy to share in it."

"You make me sound very grand indeed, Mr. Darcy! Pray, sir, I desire some of that friendly honesty we spoke of just now. Tell me, truthful friend, my faults!"

"But Miss Bennet. . ."

"I'll not let you avoid me! Please, sir, my faults."

Darcy thought hard. "What if I am unable to think of any?"

"Come, sir, do not flatter me. You and I know very well that I am impertinent, conceited, think myself far more clever than I truly am. . ."

"Dear Miss Bennet, I thought you requested me to speak of your faults and not Miss Bingley's!"

She laughed. "That is not fair! You leave me no method of forcing my flaws from your lips!"

Darcy smiled at her frustration. "Then I'm afraid we must conclude you haven't any!"

She rolled her eyes. "Hateful man. I will wheedle them from you one day!"

He laughed. "Come, let us return to the house. I have a feeling Miss Bingley shall not be pleased if we are late to breakfast."

Elizabeth agreed and allowed herself to be led back towards Netherfield, though at a pace which would not suggest Mr. Darcy was anxious to return in time to avoid a reprimand from his hostess. In truth, he was more than content to simply admire the beauties of autumn, and more particularly, those of the lady beside him. Elizabeth could at last acknowledge herself to be content as well. Perhaps she might never be his wife, but she would be his dear friend and have his trust and honesty, which was certainly far superior to being nothing to him at all. In time, her romantic feelings for him would wane, but in their stead she should share with him something more lasting, the affection that comes with true and devoted friendship. She sighed, resigned. The arrangement was decidedly better than she might have hoped for before.

When they had at last reached Netherfield's front lawn, Darcy, quite suddenly, halted his steps and ceased his remarks in what had been a rather lively discussion between them concerning playing at cards as opposed to reading, and a contemplative smile stole over his features. Elizabeth was instantly curious.

"What is it, sir?"

"I have just received insight as to one of your flaws, Miss Bennet."

"Indeed? And how do I offend?"

He smiled teasingly. "You, madam, have committed the great sin of being considerably more clever and interesting than your hostess could ever hope to be, and for that, I dare say she will find it hard to forgive you."

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