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Book One

Part One

“In such cases as this, it is, I believe, the established mode to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, however unequally they may be returned. It is natural that obligation should be felt, and if I could feel gratitude, I would now thank you. But I cannot -- I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly. I am sorry to have occasioned pain to any one. It has been most unconsciously done, however, and I hope will be of short duration. The feelings which, you tell me, have long prevented the acknowledgment of your regard, can have little difficulty in overcoming it after this explanation.”

Darcy was silent for quite some time, the disturbance of his mind visible in every feature. At last, when Elizabeth was sure she could not take the silence any longer, he bowed stiffly and made for the door. With his hand on the handle he paused and turned back to look at her. Elizabeth could see the anger in his eyes.

“Please forgive me for troubling you and accept my best wishes for your future health and happiness.”

He then quit the room.

“I cannot believe it. I cannot believe it!” Elizabeth paced up and down the length of her room. Even so many hours after the visit from Mr. Darcy, during which he confessed his desire to marry her, Elizabeth could not believe that it had really happened. “The nerve of that man! As if I could ever consent to marry him, of all people!”

The sound of the door downstairs announced the return of Mr. and Mrs. Collins and Maria. Elizabeth debated momentarily about feigning sleep but decided to admit Charlotte if she came to enquire. A few moments later there was a soft knock at her door and Charlotte’s voice called her name.

“Lizzy? Are you awake?”

Elizabeth opened the door and beckoned her friend to enter. Charlotte noticed the harassed appearance of her guest and immediately asked after the headache which had been her previous complaint.

“No, my headache is improved for all the good that does me.” Sitting down on the edge of her bed, Elizabeth stared up at the ceiling and sighed. “Oh, Charlotte. What am I to do? Do you have any idea what just happened here tonight?” Charlotte merely waited for her to continue. “Mr. Darcy paid me a visit. He had heard I was unwell.”

“That was quite civil of him.”

“Oh, yes! Quite civil, indeed,” Elizabeth returned sarcastically. “He made me an offer of marriage, Charlotte. Mr. Darcy! As if I could ever consider him as a husband! He is responsible for ruining Jane’s happiness, do you realise that? I despise him from the depths of my soul. How could he honestly think that I would entertain such a notion... such..” She grumbled in frustration. “Jane is miserable and it is all the fault of Mr. High and Mighty Darcy. Do you know what he told me?” Charlotte shook her head, still silent. “My family... my family is vulgar and beneath him! He holds them in contempt and yet he wants to marry me! I don’t understand a man who can reason like that, can you? Oh, wait a moment, I can. After what he did to Mr. Wickham I can well believe him capable of anything. Such betrayal! I suppose he would have expected me to abandon my family, my sisters, my parents.. and for what? His name? His money? As if any of that matters to me!” Elizabeth rose to pace restlessly around the room once more. “He is the most arrogant, the most conceited man I have ever had the misfortune to meet. Can there be anyone more repulsive?”

Charlotte said nothing but her mind was actively engaged in enumerating the many characteristics of someone she knew to be very repulsive, indeed. “Lizzy, are you sure you aren’t being a bit harsh?”

“Charlotte!” Elizabeth gave an incredulous laugh. “You know as well as I the story of what he did to Wickham. I discovered from Colonel Fitzwilliam this afternoon that Mr. Darcy is also responsible for separating Mr. Bingley from my sister in order to prevent a ‘most imprudent marriage’. How could he even think I’d consider marrying him for one second after injuring Jane in that fashion?”

“I’m sure he had no intention of deliberately –.”

“Nonsense! He knew perfectly well what he was doing. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that Jane and Mr. Bingley were perfectly suited and well on their way to an engagement.” Standing before her friend, Elizabeth placed her hands on her hips and stared defiantly. “Mr. Darcy is the most detestable man I have ever met!”

Charlotte listened to Elizabeth vent her frustrations for nearly an hour before she was able to extract herself and slip from the room. Padding quickly down the corridor, she paused by her sister’s bedchamber and listened to be sure Maria was asleep. Then she continued on to her own room. As expected, her husband was reading a prayer book while waiting for her. He looked up as she entered the room.

“You have been a long while checking on cousin Elizabeth, my dear. I hope there was nothing amiss?”

“Not at all, husband.” Charlotte crossed to her dressing room to change into her nightgown. “She is feeling a little better,” she called from the other room. “Although she has had a bit of an upsetting experience this evening while we were out.”

Mr. Collins put his book aside and folded his hands in his lap, patiently anticipating his wife’s emergence from the dressing room. “What could possibly have happened to upset her? I’m sure she could not have suffered anything so dreadfully distressing as Lady Catherine’s disappointment in not having her present at dinner this evening.”

“Oh, nothing akin to that, Mr. Collins. She had a visitor.”

“A visitor?” Mr. Collins almost breathed the words as Charlotte reappeared in the doorway.

Advancing slowly toward him, she said quietly, “Yes. You remember we were all wondering where Mr. Darcy had gone before dinner? Well, he had come to visit Lizzy.”

“Had he?” Mr. Collins was only half listening as the shift-clad form of his wife approached.

“And you’ll never guess what he had on his mind.”

“On his mind?” His fingers quivered, arm twitching to reach out toward her. “I can’t imagine.”

“He made her an offer..... of marriage.”

Mr. Collins’ jaw fell slack. He stared up at his wife in shock. “He did what? An offer of.. what?” Charlotte nodded. “No, no. It cannot be so. It is just not done! What will Lady Catherine say?” His eyes widened in horror. “Lady Catherine!” he cried. “She must be informed at once. At once!” He leapt from the bed and ran from the room, his nightshirt trailing behind him down the hall like a sail billowing in the wind. His words followed him like a tangible force. “Oh, what will she say? What will she do? I must warn her. It is my duty to assist her in saving him from this grave error.”

Charlotte made no attempt to follow. She climbed into her bed, pulled up the blankets and blew out the candle by the bedside. Snuggling down into the warmth of the bed, she listened to her husband’s mutterings until he had descended the stairs and left the house on his way to Rosings. She rolled over and chuckled softly, luxuriating in a great yawn before settling down to sleep.

“I will forgive you, my nephew.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam looked across at his aunt as she sat perched on her throne at the end of the room. “I beg your pardon?”

“I am not in the habit of repeating myself, Fitzwilliam. However, I understand your distraction even if I do not approve of it.” Lady Catherine gave a high minded sniff and brushed at a speck of imaginary lint on one sleeve. “You will, of course, realise the grievous error you would have made had your plan come to fruition.”

Her nephew turned his gaze on his cousin, baffled as to the topic of this lecture. Darcy merely shrugged and resumed staring into his glass of port. Their aunt’s voice droned on but neither man heard anything she said.

The party at Hunsford Parsonage was once again invited to dine at Rosings Park on the last evening before Elizabeth and Maria were due to return home. Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Darcy had left two weeks previously with scarcely a nod given between Elizabeth and the latter before their departure. The Colonel, however, made a point of visiting the Parsonage to make his goodbyes and to wish all of the denizens well. If anyone had noticed the dancing light in Charlotte’s eyes when he appeared, or the blush that rose to her cheeks when he addressed her, then it was not mentioned. Elizabeth was too preoccupied with thoughts of an ill nature regarding his cousin while Maria was blinded by the high polish of the Colonel’s brass buttons on his uniform.

Mr. Collins pranced about the group, opening doors, ushering the others through and enquiring repeatedly as to the expected degree of comfort of the gentlemen’s journey. Fitzwilliam answered each question with composure if not completely rationally. Mr. Collins noted nothing amiss in any case.

Once the gentlemen had left Rosings and Lady Catherine had spent several hours bereft of their company, she commanded Collins to attend her and to bring the ladies for her entertainment. An evening spent in one sided conversation was never enough for Mr. Collins and he would return to his benefactress’s side the following morning as soon as the butler would admit him to the house.

On this final evening there was little to say that had not been said before. Elizabeth was requested to play since there was no-one else to do so and the numerous times she had done while Lady Catherine’s nephews were staying had made Miss Bennet’s style grow on the old woman.

“It is quite discernible in your playing just how much practice you have had in the short time you have been with us, Miss Bennet,” Lady Catherine generously pronounced. “I am sure that should you continue to exhibit this skill when you return to Hertfordshire that many a young man will be won over. You must choose wisely, my dear. There are too many young people who rush headlong into marriage and then discover a fickle heart.”

Elizabeth raised one eyebrow at this remark, unsure whether to be amused or insulted. A little nagging voice whispered to her that Lady Catherine was privy to what had transpired between herself and Mr. Darcy. The rest of the evening was without incident, though, and the following morning Elizabeth and Maria set off for home after Mr. Collins saw them into the carriage, bowing and scraping.

The trip to London was relatively pleasant. The other travellers in the coach were as inclined toward light, sporadic conversation as was Elizabeth. When finally they reached her Aunt and Uncle’s home in Cheapside the two young women were tired enough to want nothing more than a good meal and an early night.

Elizabeth did not refrain from relating to Jane the details of her trip, however. Her sister eagerly listened to the venting of all of her griefs, sympathising when appropriate and offering explanations as she saw fit. Jane could not wholly believe, as Elizabeth did, that Darcy was singularly guilty for Bingley’s continued absence from Netherfield. By this time, having spent some months in London and not once glimpsed the man for whom she harboured such precious feelings despite frequently visiting his sisters, Jane had come to the conclusion that she had been mistaken and that Bingley had merely been a friendly yet inconsiderate young man who had the unfortunate habit of leading poor young ladies into believing that he nurtured more serious designs upon them. She was convinced she was well out of it.

But listening to Elizabeth’s concerns, Jane began to wonder if her sister had made the right decision in refusing Mr. Darcy’s offer. Perhaps he had chosen his words poorly and his expressions left something to be desired, but he did claim to love her. Was that not what Lizzy wished for, someone to love her? Then there was the little matter of him having such a sizeable fortune!

Jane managed to soothe Elizabeth’s prickled pride and saw her off to bed. In a matter of days they would be back at Longbourn and could return to the dull and predictable existence they’d had before Netherfield had been let.

“Fitzwilliam, is there something wrong?” Georgiana Darcy looked up from her needlework for the sixth time in less than an hour. “You have been very different since your return from Rosings Park.”

“Have I?” her brother replied, contemplating her words. “Yes, I suppose you are correct. I have made a discovery about myself, Georgiana, with the help of a young lady.”

“Oh?” she shyly urged him to continue. This was something new! A young lady!

“Yes, indeed. I have discovered that I have selfishly kept to myself and kept you secluded, as well. That must end, my dear sister. From now on we will be the social talk of Town. I have arranged for us to attend the theatre this evening and to dine with the Bingleys and Hursts afterward. There is to be a reception at the home of Lord and Lady Watson next week. We will make the acquaintance of several new people there and at St. James the following weekend.”

Georgiana stared at her brother in amazement. “My! Yet I don’t understand. What does the young lady have to do with this?”

Darcy leaned forward and put his hands together. “Well, the lady of whom I speak taught me a lesson well earned. It made me realise how little I understood the people around me. Therefore I have undertaken a study of myself, my friends and family to determine how I should correct this fault of mine.”

“Fault?” Georgiana was too dumbfounded to say any more.

“That is exactly what I thought at first,” Darcy continued excitedly. “But after long and careful thought I concluded that there was some room for change. Georgiana, my dear, you will now be the happy recipient of my improved manners and social schedule.” His sister stared at him in horror. “Yes,” he continued. “I have accepted invitations from every quarter. We shall be dining with only the finest families from this point forward.”

Part Two

The following year saw the Darcys on the town like never before. Georgiana, although not officially ‘out’, was nevertheless introduced to many young men at private functions where she could attend without impinging on society’s directives. Her brother carefully monitored every interested individual, weeding out the ones he deemed unworthy of his sister’s hand and accepting invitations to further the acquaintance of the ones with potential. It was not only Georgiana’s future he had in mind, however. His own need for a wife and heir was becoming more important as he watched the parade of hopefuls month after month. Although his sister was technically his heir until Darcy actually produced one, it was not something he wished to leave in fate’s hands. The one proposal that he had made, the previous spring, was not an event he wished to repeat. The next time he would choose a woman he could really be sure would accept him. Emotions were far too unpredictable to allow sway over such an important decision.

One of the things that disappointed him most was his inability to convince Bingley of how imperative it was to make the right choice in a marriage partner. His friend continued to let his heart rule his head in this matter. Despite several introductions that Darcy had arranged, to very eligible and respectable young women, Bingley was still waxing poetic about love and romance, expecting more from a match than what good sense required. Darcy had learned the hard way that love was not the key to a successful proposal. It had been painful but useful. That was a mistake he would not repeat.

A few weeks into the season, with Georgiana into her seventeenth year and quite an attractive but still underage prospect, Darcy found himself the object of attention from a hitherto unexplored avenue. He had his cousin, Fitzwilliam, to thank for introducing them. A fellow officer who had been killed on the Continent during a skirmish with Napoleon the year before had left behind a young widow and son. The Lady was sufficiently dowered in her own right while her son inherited in trust the entirety of his father’s estate. Her period of mourning now concluded, Lady Sophia Hudson had come to London prepared to receive addresses from hopeful men seeking wealthy wives. It was not that she felt a particular interest in marrying again. It was, however, quite clear to her that it was expected. She was not yet 30 and in possession of a good fortune plus a title; a natural draw for single men in need of a wife. What she did not expect was to find herself attracted to one of them and wishing for his addresses.

“Mr. Darcy. How pleasant to see you here this evening.”

“Lady Sophia,” the gentleman replied with a bow. He noted no tingle of excitement when he pressed her hand to his lips; certainly nothing resembling the disturbance he had experienced when confronted with Miss Bennet. Darcy was well pleased.

Lady Sophia inclined her head in acknowledgement of his manners. Her own heart was barely affected but it was more in recognition of the suitability of this man than an affection for him. That he was a good man was unquestionable. There was nothing said of him that could be construed in a negative light. Fitzwilliam Darcy was wealthy and young with impeccable manners. He did not indulge in gaming, was not a rake, and behaved with the highest degree of responsibility as guardian to his young sister. Darcy had also made it well known by his recent aggressive foray into society that he was seriously browsing the market. Her timing could not have been better.

Darcy offered his arm and the two made their way across the room toward some mutual acquaintances. From the reaction of these people it was apparent that already they were recognised as a couple. Neither was unsatisfied with that inference. For Darcy it was merely a matter of time before he made his offer. He felt assured of acceptance.

This time.

Winter at Longbourn seemed unusually dreadful that year. The days dragged on while Mrs. Bennet, who had long given up any lamentations about Mr. Bingley and her eldest daughter, now entertained herself with melodramatic imaginings of what had befallen her youngest. Lydia had, that previous summer, run off with Mr. Wickham; a man who, as it turned out, had most horribly deceived everyone as to his true nature. Elizabeth had been shocked when the letter from her sister had arrived while she and her aunt and uncle Gardiner had been travelling. Thankful that not one word had escaped the confines of their rooms, the three had quickly made their return to Longbourn without anyone being the wiser for their abrupt departure.

That had been six long months ago. Lydia had not been seen since. Neither had Wickham, although rumours that he had been seen in places other than London did abound. Elizabeth dared not imagine where her sister might be, nor what she might be doing to support herself. It was certain that she had no skills, no talents with which to find respectable employment. Oh, how she wished she had not been so trusting of Wickham! If he was this unworthy of any good opinion what did that say of the rest of his tales? What of his supposed mistreatment at the hands of Mr. Darcy? Elizabeth cringed in remembrance of that man’s proposal to her the previous spring. Her opinions had been of the firmest belief in his guilt; he was guilty of blasting the hopes of Mr. Wickham by denying him a rightful inheritance. With shame, Elizabeth thought of how unsuitable that man had been for the church and then was more ashamed for having targeted all of her anger toward Mr. Darcy for denying such an undeserving individual the living at Kympton. Now that she and her family had been thrown into disgrace with Lydia’s actions, falling into the clutches of Wickham, there was even less hope of a respectable marriage for any of them. Elizabeth felt anew the guilt at having refused two offers of marriage in less that six months. The comfort that her mother knew of only the one from Mr. Collins was small indeed.

“Lizzy?”

The sound of her father’s voice brought Elizabeth out of her reverie. “Yes, Papa? I am over here.” She watched him part the low hanging branches of the willow tree to join her in the private shelter within.

“Lizzy, I have had a letter.” He sighed wearily and sat down on the bench beside his daughter. Age marked heavy lines in his face, lines that had not been there a year earlier. “It will be necessary for me to go to London and I’d like you to come with me.”

Elizabeth anxiously searched his face for a sign of something she feared. “Is it Lydia?”

“Yes.” Seeing her distress, Mr. Bennet sought to reassure her. “Have no fear. She is alive still, although I’m not sure that Lydia is as glad of that as we are.” He rose to depart and go back to the house. “We shall leave on the day after tomorrow. I value your sense and judgment, Lizzy. Perhaps your young sister will be willing to listen to you now.”

Elizabeth remained on the bench after her father had left, her opinions of her own sense and judgment not equal to his.

The trip to London was not pleasant by any means. The weather was damp and cold, rain had made the roads quite rutted and travel was uncomfortable at best. The presence of others on this post coach prevented Elizabeth and her father from engaging in any conversation about their business in the city. By the time they reached London the dull grey skies had darkened and threatened more rain at any moment. Mr. Bennet handed his daughter down from the coach and hailed a waiting handsome cab to take them to the Gardiners’ home.

The rain let loose before the cab pulled up in front of the house, however. Elizabeth dashed into the shelter of the overhanging doorway while her father paid the driver. The front door opened to welcome them into the warm and dry interior of her aunt and uncle’s home. Mrs. Gardiner was in the front parlour and came to greet them upon hearing their entrance.

“Come in, come in,” she said, nodding to the footman to bring in refreshments. “Edward is not here at the moment. There were some matters to sort out at the office so that he would be free to spend as much time as needed with regard to Lydia.”

Elizabeth moved forward on her seat. “Aunt, I don’t mean to be impatient but Lydia... how is she?”

Mrs. Gardiner patted the hand of her niece in reassurance. “Everything will be alright, Lizzy. Lydia has improved quite a lot since we first saw her. There is still a long way to go, however.”

“I am still perplexed,” Elizabeth persisted. “How could this happen? How could she have remained concealed from us all of these months?”

Mr. Bennet should his head. “We have been through this many times since Lydia disappeared last year. I had no answers then and have none now. Let us believe that this accident that befell her is a blessing in disguise for who knows when or if we may have ever found her otherwise.”

The tea tray arrived at that moment and the three fell silent. Not long after their second cups of tea had been poured did Mr. Gardiner arrive. He poured himself a cup and invited his brother-in-law to join him in his study. This left the ladies alone to discuss their own concerns while the men tackled the more pressing needs of the situation.

The door closed behind him and Mr. Bennet sat wearily in one of the overstuffed armchairs. With a great sigh he spoke. “What is the news?”

“Better but not pleasing.” Mr. Gardiner poured each of them a glass of port. “As I told you in my letter Lydia was run down by a carriage when the driver didn’t see her. She had apparently stepped out from an alley onto the cobbles and fell when her ankle twisted in a rut. Although the physical injuries are healing well, her leg and arm are mending though the nasty bruises and cuts will take a while to disappear, I’m afraid there is a more serious problem. Her head was struck by one of the leading wheels and despite it resulting in her being thrown clear of the rear ones, the blow seems to have caused some lasting effects.”

“What lasting effects?” Mr. Bennet passed a time worn hand across his eyes.

Mr. Gardiner placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Her mind has been affected. She is not much more than a five year old at this point. The surgeons do not have any hope for improvement.”

Mr. Bennet shook his head. “Poor Lydia. She didn’t have much sense to start with but to be further reduced....”

“There are some options we should discuss before rejoining the ladies. I’m sure you would like to come to a decision sooner rather than later.” Mr. Gardiner pulled a portfolio of papers from a drawer of his desk and opened it. “There are two establishments that my solicitors recommended.”

Fitzwilliam Darcy raised his hand to lift the brass knocker on the door. The footman acknowledged him with a bow and ushered the gentleman to the parlour where his Lady was spending the morning.

“Mr. Darcy,” Lady Sophia smiled upon seeing him enter. “To what do I owe this pleasure? We parted company barely hours ago. Pray tell me, you did not lose your way and have been wandering the streets since bringing me home after the Ball?” She peered closely at him before adding, “No, I see that you have, indeed, changed from your formals.”

Darcy took her hand and kissed the back of it while murmuring his reply. “I trust that you enjoyed the evening, my Lady.” Releasing her hand, he took a seat in a chair opposite hers and calmly met her eyes.

“I did, indeed and I thank you again for escorting me, sir.” She met his gaze unabashedly. “It had been a long time since I was last out at such an event. It was delightful!” The smile that he had come to expect appeared quite naturally with these last words. Her gaze was steady, however, and continued to ask her previous question.

“Lady Sophia –.”

“Please, call me Sophia,” she quietly interrupted. “I believe we have known each other long enough to allow at least this much familiarity.”

A hint of a smile lifted one side of Darcy’s mouth. This woman seemed to be able to read his every thought, anticipate his every move. He was certain that she knew his purpose in coming so early in the day and it served to encourage him.

“Lady Sophia,” he began again, repeating her title in his address as befitted the formality of what was to come. “You cannot have spoken truer words and I hope that our association will continue as one of long standing.” He paused to collect himself for the speech he had prepared. “As you know, I am not unaware of your misfortunes and that you have only recently set aside your mourning clothes. Nevertheless I have, in the relatively short span of our acquaintance, come to regard you with sincere respect. There are few whose opinions I value as highly as my own yet I dare say that I can and do value yours. Lady Sophia, I would like you to accept my offer of marriage. Our situations in life are comparable, our fortunes nearly equal. As a widow your position is respectable though without the advantages of those ladies just entering society. I assure you that your young son will not be required to suffer any neglect through my actions.” Darcy drew a breath for his final words. “I would be honoured to have you as my wife.”

Lady Sophia Hudson drew her own breath, steady and assured. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I am the one honoured with both your offer and the opportunity to accept it.”

A very dignified confirmation of their agreement took the form of a joining of hands followed by a meeting of their lips. The lady was not fooled into believing Darcy’s declaration a passionate one and rather knew that his kiss was prompted by a sense of duty.

Darcy was pleasantly surprised to find her not unwilling and actually encouraging him to continue the activity. It would not be proper, however. He ended the kiss as perfunctorily as it had begun.

“My Lady,” the gentleman said after a sufficient interval of silence. “Shall I make arrangements to have the banns published?”

“Yes,” she replied in a soft voice. “If you have no objection, sir, I should like to request that we abstain from the usual pomp and ceremony associated with such an event as this when performed at our level of society. I am a widow. Unless you prefer the traditional formalities attendant upon a first marriage, as this is your first, I am quite willing to forego it.”

Darcy, for whom the thought of hundreds of gaping witnesses to his proclamation of vows to this woman was not in the least appealing, readily assented to her request. When they parted shortly thereafter it was for Darcy to see to the public announcement while Lady Sophia sat down at her desk to compose a letter to her son’s trustees, informing them of her impending change in marital status and enquiring of the significance with respect to Robert’s guardianship.

Mr. Bennet crossed the ‘t’ on his signature and sadly replaced the pen in its holder. The papers were signed. The deed was done. His wife’s reaction would be violently effusive but there had been no other choice. He was resigned to expecting it to last for several months. She would likely never forgive him. He doubted he’d ever forgive himself.

Meeting Elizabeth’s eyes across the room he could see the sorrow reflected in them. Once again he berated himself for letting Lydia go to Brighton. Small comfort that they had all been fooled by Wickham’s easy manners. Had he known the man was such an unprincipled rake–! Mr. Bennet clenched his fists in impotent rage. Such a fruitless effort, hindsight. The reality was before him. His youngest daughter sat with Elizabeth, looking for all the world like an innocent child, happily playing with one of her cousin’s dolls. Her face still bore the marks of her recent accident, the smile belied the terrible effects that her mind had suffered.

How could I have let this happen?

The doctor signalled an attendant to come and take Lydia to her room. He gathered up the papers, putting them in a folder to be filed later. Elizabeth held her sister’s hand until forced to let go. She then kissed Lydia’s cheek and whispered a strained goodbye. Mr. Bennet clasped his daughter to him, placing a kiss upon her head as it lay against his chest. Lydia soon grew impatient and struggled to be free.

Both he and Elizabeth watched the attendant lead her from the room and listened until Lydia’s chattering voice faded away down the length of the corridor.

Through a cheerless supper the Gardiners attempted to soothe the guilty consciences of their guests. Elizabeth, for whom regret weighed the heaviest, condemned herself for believing Wickham’s tales of woe while feeding a prejudice against Mr. Darcy. Every day since Lydia’s disappearance Elizabeth had heard the words of both men replayed in her head time and again: Wickham’s smooth charm and seductive smile maligning Darcy’s character and Darcy himself, standing before her at Hunsford Parsonage while he declared his love and in the same breath qualified the strength of his attachment by putting aside the improprieties of her family. How she had hated him for that! Not only had he blighted Wickham, or so she thought, and separated Bingley from Jane, but he also stooped to insulting her family!

Of course, her feelings were completely different now. With the revelation of Wickham’s true character came the realisation that Darcy’s objections to her family were soundly based in fact. The majority of them did behave in a fashion designed to draw censure from the most generous critic. This being the case, how could she fault him for desiring to keep his friend from descending to such a level through marriage?

What was to become of them now; now that Mr. Collins was poised to inherit Longbourn and would have no commitment to provide for his cousins? Although she hated to admit it, her father was looking none too well. She feared for his health. The months of suspense and anguish now culminating in this tragic conclusion had aged him considerably. Elizabeth wished there was something she could do to ease his mind but while she felt the burden of her own guilt it was impossible to relieve his. It was small consolation that they would be leaving for home in the morning. London had only painful associations but Longbourn had her mother.

“You have what?” Bingley stared at his friend incredulously. “Engaged? To whom?”

“Lady Sophia Hudson,” Darcy replied, pouring himself a drink. “Is it so surprising?”

“Well, yes!” Bingley nodded emphatically. “I had no idea you were even in love!”

Darcy laughed. “Love! Don’t confuse me with yourself, Bingley. I don’t allow such emotions to cloud my judgment.”

Shaking his head, Bingley persisted. “But love is what it’s supposed to be about, Darcy! If you don’t love her then why did you propose?”

I proposed to a woman I thought I loved. That was a mistake. Thank goodness she refused me. “Nonsense. It is a perfectly respectable match. Lady Sophia is intelligent, practical and in need of a husband. Our fortunes are nearly equal and it is time I attended to my responsibility as a landowner. I need an heir.”

“An heir! Oh, I don’t believe I am hearing this!” Bingley poured a drink for himself. “Correct me if I’m wrong but were you not the one who pointed out to me that my attachment to Jane Bennet was imprudent because she did not return my affections? Why does this not apply to you?”

“Quite simple, Bingley,” his friend calmly replied. “Unlike you, I do not look for such affection. I am not influenced by the vagaries of the human heart. Marriage at my station in life is for retaining and improving my position and that of my family. You would do well to keep that in mind, yourself. Your own standing could be improved immensely with the right connection.”

Bingley looked rather perturbed by this notion. “That just can’t be right, though. It sounds so cold!”

“Not in the least,” Darcy disagreed, shaking his head. “A marriage of convenience or even a prearranged match can be very satisfying. My own parents had such an arrangement. Their relationship was quite amicable.”

Bingley was still unsure of the wisdom of such an approach. To a man who delighted in the rush that feelings of affection brought, the idea of a loveless marriage was appalling. He was still immersed in his thoughts when a knock on Darcy’s study door brought him back to the present. The door opened at Darcy’s invitation and Georgiana poked her head around the edge.

“I’m sorry,” she said upon seeing the two gentlemen apparently engrossed in serious conversation. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.” Her shy gaze lingered on her brother’s friend for a moment.

Darcy put his sister’s fears to rest. “You are not disturbing us in the least, Georgie. Have you come to tell us that dinner is served?”

“Yes.” Her smile lit up her face. “I understand that you have asked for something special to be served as we are celebrating. What are we celebrating?”

“An engagement!” Darcy did not see the expression of shock that appeared and quickly disappeared on Georgiana’s face. Nor did he see the look that she sent in Bingley’s direction. “Come, then. We shall discuss it over dinner.”

Part Three

Elizabeth descended from the coach and looked around for her uncle. Spotting him as he stepped forward from the crowd, she grabbed Jane’s hand to pull her toward him.

“Uncle Gardiner!” Both young ladies warmly embraced their uncle while people swirled about them, hurrying to and fro.

“Jane. Lizzy,” he replied with sincere affection. “I’ll get you settled into my carriage and come back to direct the baggage.” They followed him to the waiting carriage, tucking themselves under the blankets provided for their protection from the damp, chill air. It was less than fifteen minutes before the trunks were loaded on the back, Mr. Gardiner had joined them and they were away to Gracechurch Street.

“How is your mother?” he asked when the noise of the crowd had been left behind. “Is she settling into her new situation?”

Jane was the first to speak. Elizabeth dared not venture her own opinion. “Aunt Philips was good enough to make room for Mama and Kitty. She is quite comfortable there and very happy to be able to stay in Meryton with her friends.”

“Very good. We were very pleased to hear of Mary’s offer from the young curate in Tetworth. The wedding is to be in the summer?” Mr. Gardiner wished to keep the conversation light.

“Yes,” Jane smiled. “That has given Mama something to occupy her time.”

The journey to Gracechurch Street did not take long. Their aunt greeted them as warmly as had her husband, directing her nieces to their room and advising them that dinner would be served within an hour. Once alone with their trunks, Elizabeth and Jane were free to converse on subjects that were forbidden on the long ride of the post coach.

“Lizzy, you do not seriously mean to begin searching for a position right away, do you?” Jane was in earnest. She did not want to have to part from her dearest sister.

Elizabeth drew a gown from the trunk and hung it up. “I cannot stay here too long, Jane. It is not fair to Aunt and Uncle Gardiner. They have already done so much for us since Papa died.” A lump rose in her throat at the memory of her father’s last days. His greatest concern was for his girls, Jane and Elizabeth in particular, and that they were left without the prospect of proper husbands, a secure future. Mary had already accepted Mr. Sutton of Tetworth. Their father saw no reason that the couple should wait the required period of mourning before marrying. That Mr. Sutton insisted on putting it off until propriety allowed it was a credit to his character and his position of clergyman. Mary was ideally suited for that life.

“I’m sure they will not mind,” Jane persisted.

Elizabeth came to sit on the bed next to her sister. “Jane, I will not be a burden to our aunt and uncle no matter how much I would prefer to stay with family. I must learn to make my own way in the world and be content in the knowledge that they are here should I need their help. I hope I never shall but it gives me comfort to know that I can count on them.”

“Oh, Lizzy,” Jane sighed with genuine emotion. “Please don’t take a position so very far away. I don’t know how I will cope without you!”

Drawing her sister to her, Elizabeth offered comfort with her words. “I promise to write you every day, wherever I am. We can share our experiences with our charges and share our wisdom as well.”

“Oh, Lizzy.” Jane buried her head in Elizabeth’s shoulder, months of grief that she had withheld now finding release. The two sisters wept until their tears were exhausted.

“Come, Jane,” Elizabeth finally said when she could find her voice. “We must not keep the others waiting for the meal. Our new life is beginning. You will be educating our young cousins and I must begin enquiries for a position tomorrow morning.”

Jane wiped at her eyes with a delicately embroidered handkerchief. “I will be strong, Lizzy. I will not disappoint you.”

Elizabeth shook her head at this proof of Jane’s goodness. Her sister truly deserved better than to be a governess even if it was to her own cousins. Drying her own eyes, she took Jane’s arm and they went downstairs together.

Another Season was nearly upon them. Darcy was relieved that his participation in this year’s rituals would not be burdened with the attentions of the previous one. He was no longer a ‘marketable item’ and although his sister was a new commodity she was also safely and securely attached despite the formality of any announcement being made. Neither Darcy nor his sister’s suitor wished to deprive her of the excitement of being ‘out’ and attending every ball and dinner party to be thrown in her honour. Her brother could only imagine that Georgiana would realise that no other man would respect and treat her as well as the man who had already captured her young heart.

“Fitzwilliam,” came the voice of his wife. She stood in the doorway of his dressing room, her expression clearly illustrating curious impatience. “You have not finished dressing, yet!”

He brought his thoughts back to the present and signalled Fitch to bring the jacket. “I am nearly ready, my dear,” he replied, slipping his arms into the sleeves of the jacket his man held. While the servant fussed with the lay of the cloth and dusted off the shoulders of imaginary lint, Darcy sent a quick smile toward Lady Sophia. “You see? I shall not disgrace you with a tardy arrival.”

Her delicate laugh danced about the room as she stepped toward him and said, “Tardy arrival! What difference should that make, I ask you? It is our son being christened, after all. The service will hardly begin without our presence.”

“Where is little Master Darcy at the moment?” the proud father enquired.

“Master Edwin Charles Darcy is with his nurse. He is dressed and ready to go and I daresay he was more particular about his clothes than you were, Husband.”

Darcy laughed. “Protested, did he? I cannot fault him for that.”

“Just like his father, then,” Sophia concluded. “I pray he stays quiet when the anointing occurs.”

“I would not care if he cries for the whole world to hear,” Darcy countered. “Let everyone know of the arrival of my son.”

“A prouder man there cannot be, I’m sure.”

Darcy crooked a finger under her chin and tilted it up to look into her eyes. “A prouder husband and father there is not, I can assure you.”

Taking his hand, Sophia pulled him toward the door. “Shall we go, then? The carriage is waiting, Georgiana is waiting and Edwin is waiting.”

They descended the staircase to find the others assembled in the hall. Darcy stopped to take a peek at his son, sleeping in the nurse’s arms and warmly wrapped to ward off any chill before they all climbed into the carriage. The ride was not long and the church was already quite full of guests when they arrived. Charles Bingley joined them just inside the doorway, taking Georgiana’s arm and leading her to a seat in the front pew.

“Well?” Jane looked up from her sewing when Elizabeth entered the room. “Did you find anything suitable?”

Her sister poured herself a cup of tea from the still warm pot and took a seat beside Jane. “I am on the list of available governesses with the agency and they will contact me when something of interest comes in, or so I have been told. There wasn’t much to choose from today. I’m afraid I’m still being too particular, Jane,” Elizabeth sighed. “I’ve not been homeless long enough to really feel homeless.”

“You are not homeless,” Jane countered. “You know you are welcome to stay here with Aunt and Uncle Gardiner.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Of course. Still, it will not do to overstay my welcome. I don’t mean to be choosy but I would prefer to be closer to you rather than far away. A London position is possible although that may change if the family is only in town for the Season. Oh, Jane... it is so disheartening to think I may have to rely on letters for comfort! Mama and our younger sisters I could bear to be apart from but you... no, it will be too cruel.”

Jane put aside her sewing. “Come, Lizzy. Let us take the children for a walk. Getting out in the fresh air always does you good.”

“You are right,” her sister nodded in agreement.

Within a short time they had readied the children and were out in the sunshine of the brisk spring afternoon. Not far from the house was a small park where the children could amuse themselves in leaf boat races on the small creek while their cousins watched them.

“Oh, how beautiful!” Jane exclaimed. Elizabeth followed the direction of her gaze to see a cluster of ladies and gentlemen in front of a church on the other side of the street. “Is that not the most exquisite christening gown?”

Her sister had to admit that the baby’s outfit did indeed surpass any other she had seen. Elizabeth was about to add a comment about the beauty of the woman holding the baby when her eyes were arrested by the appearance of two gentlemen in the doorway of the church. Nothing could disguise the proud bearing of Mr. Darcy. Her gaze remained fixed on his figure while Jane continued to praise the fine lace and beadwork on the baby’s gown. A lady joined Darcy, taking his arm and the arm of the second gentlemen and smiling up at him warmly. Elizabeth realised with a start that it was Mr. Bingley returning her smile and quickly turned to see if Jane had noticed him.

“Lizzy.....”

With a frown, Elizabeth realised that her sister had seen Mr. Bingley. She placed a comforting hand on Jane’s while they both watched the two men across the street.

Darcy released his sister into the care of Bingley and joined his wife and son at the bottom of the steps. After acknowledging the congratulations from various friends he took the now fussing baby from Sophia and walked a little distance from the noise of the crowd’s chatter.

“You dislike the fuss as much as I, don’t you Edwin?” Darcy softly said to his son. The baby’s cries quieted and he stared up at the face above him. “It is something to which you must accustom yourself, however. Don’t worry,” he added as Edwin began to squirm. “You have a few years before the expectations will be upon you.” For a moment he admired his son’s features, strongly marked by the Darcy set of his mouth. With Edwin’s sleepy closing of his eyes, his father took an opportunity to look back to see if the crowd had begun to take their leave for the celebratory reception to be held at the Darcy townhouse. He was pleased to note that he still had a few quiet moments left before the real socialising must begin.

Taking a few more steps away from the crowd Darcy let his eyes wander toward the expanse of greenery on the opposite side of the street. Several young children were playing near the banks of the creek and his attention was drawn to their laughter. Memories of his own childhood, the few carefree days that had been allowed, drifted through his mind. He easily pushed aside any hint of George Wickham. That man had no place in his life. After foiling his plans with Georgiana at Ramsgate, Darcy had made sure that Wickham could not affect himself or his sister ever again. Georgiana’s future was secure. He briefly glanced over to where his sister and Bingley were still speaking amiably with Lady Sophia and then resumed watching the children in the park while peacefully contemplating his own son cavorting in the years to come. The thoughts brought a smile to his face while his mind relaxed.

Darcy recognised her immediately. Their eyes met and held, bodies motionless for what seemed an eternity. A whimper from the bundle in his arms made him aware that he had tightened his grip reflexively. Relaxing his hold, Darcy soothed his son with soft words while his eyes refused to relinquish their grasp on the woman on the bench. Even from this distance he could see the colour in her face, sense the sparks in her eyes. Two years. It had been nearly two years since he had offered his hand and his heart to this woman. Two years since she had thrown it back in his face.

He felt nothing.

“You and Darcy have bestowed a great honour on me, Lady Sophia,” Bingley gushed in his enthusiastic manner. “Not only asking me to be Godfather to your son but to name him Edwin Charles, too. You are too generous.”

Mrs. Darcy, who knew only too well the strength of her husband’s friendship with Bingley as well as the hopes he longed to see to fruition, offered her own gratitude for his consent in the role. The significance of Georgiana being chosen as Godmother to her nephew did not seem to be lost on him. Bingley appeared quite appreciative of the time that would require him to spend in her company. Lady Sophia silently congratulated her husband on the success of his plan. Her admiration for Darcy continued to grow. “Charles, you are the one who is too good. Such a steadfast friend. I know that you did not view our marriage with approval in the beginning but you have come to see that we are ideally suited and that your friend was right about marriages of convenience not being entirely abhorrent.”

Bingley looked a little embarrassed with her words. “I admit that I was reluctant to credit Darcy’s notions in the beginning but,” he paused and glanced at Georgiana, “I’ve found that my own ideas were not completely sound.” He patted Georgiana’s hand which was resting on his arm.

Darcy chose that moment to join them. “I believe it is time we made our way home for the reception,” he said. His wife dutifully complied by making a graceful exit, taking her sister-in-law with her. “Bingley, you are welcome to ride in our carriage if you prefer.”

“Thank you, Darcy, but my driver was instructed to return in another,” he looked at his timepiece. “Five minutes. I’m sure he will be along soon.”

“As you wish.” Darcy made his adieus to those still present and joined his family in the carriage for the trip back home.

Elizabeth let out a breath, unaware that she had been holding it. That Mr. Darcy had been within such a close distance! It was unbelievable! The words of his proposal echoed in her head as if it were only yesterday. He had stared, she had coloured, yet she had no idea of how she had felt when their gazes had held for so long. Her hatred of him had vanished long ago. The confidence she had placed in Wickham’s tales and the revelation of his true character had lain to rest the worst of the charges placed at Darcy’s feet. What she had been left with was nothing but vanity induced prejudice. Forced to evaluate the man’s character without these coloured impressions Elizabeth could find no reason to dislike him. Indeed, he had acted most honourably and despite her less than civil refusal of his offer Darcy had accepted it in a gentlemanly manner and left forthwith. What did that say of her opinions? Yet, even in the face of evidence to the contrary, Elizabeth had persisted in her belief of his arrogance and his disdain, his selfishness and thoughtlessness. Nothing he had said to her had been untrue but her vanity had prohibited acceptance of it.

Now, in the space of those seconds when their gazes were locked, unable to look away, what had she seen? There was an acknowledgment of what had passed between them in that Parsonage in Kent and confirmation that he had accepted her decision and moved on from there. The babe in his arms was incontrovertible proof of that. The tenderness with which he had spoken to the fussing infant was clear even from where she had sat, so far away in more ways than physical distance. It had evoked an unfamiliar sensation which stirred her deeply. Had she been a fanciful romantic Elizabeth might have identified it as a desire to be the third member of that picture. The previous two years had taught her that romanticism was not reasonable for a woman in her circumstances, however. Not for the first time did she regret her hasty and prejudiced reply to Darcy’s proposal. Had she taken the time to really learn about the man instead of believing the worst of everything he did or said then her situation might have been very different now. Perhaps even Lydia’s fate may have been avoided had Elizabeth been granted access to resources otherwise unattainable by her father, a man of lesser means.

It was far too late for such thoughts, though. Her father was dead, Lydia in an institution and Elizabeth about to embark on a life of genteel servitude. At least she could draw comfort from knowing that Jane’s future was secure with their aunt and uncle.

As quickly as the contact was made, Darcy broke it off. Elizabeth observed him speaking with Bingley and two ladies, one of whom she presumed was his sister, judging by the resemblance. The other was likely Mrs. Darcy. This lady deserved a closer examination. Even from behind she appeared to be poised, beautiful, fashionable; everything required by a man of Darcy’s position. She had apparently provided him with an heir, too. Elizabeth’s emotions were mixed. On one hand she was pleased for his good fortune while another part of her was offended that the violence of his declared affections was so easily overcome. It had taken her months to fully appreciate what she had turned down, or rather had cast out, almost immediately followed by Lydia’s indiscretions and the resulting effects upon them all. Her father’s death had been the most severe blow.

The Darcy carriage turned a corner and disappeared but Elizabeth’s thoughts were not so easily dismissed.

A few people still remained on the sidewalk outside the church and Bingley spoke with them while awaiting the arrival of his own carriage. As he caught sight of his conveyance approaching along the street, he bowed to his companions and stood by the curb. The lightness of his mood was jarred by the sight of two ladies sitting on a bench directly across from him. He thought his eyes were playing tricks for they looked very much like Miss Jane and Miss Elizabeth Bennet. That could not be so, though. Hertfordshire was quite a distance away and he could think of no reason why two single ladies from Hertfordshire would be sitting in a park in London by themselves. His first impulse was to cross the street and say hello but his carriage pulled up in front of him at just that moment. For an instant he stood there, undecided. What if he approached them? What would happen? What could happen?

Another long moment passed as Bingley recalled the time he’d spent in Hertfordshire. Although he had believed Miss Bennet had returned his affections it was clear to the other members of his party, his sisters and Darcy at least, that he was deluding himself. It wasn’t the first time he’d done that; seen what he wished to see. Shaking his head, Bingley climbed into the waiting carriage and signalled his driver to go on. As the vehicle pulled away from the curb he looked out once more toward the bench with the two young ladies seated upon it. His attention rested first on Miss Elizabeth as he could not yet bear to gaze upon the face of Miss Jane Bennet without some mental fortification. Elizabeth appeared distracted, distressed and this served only to increase his own disturbing emotions. Finally risking to turn his attention to Jane, Bingley held his breath upon beholding her.

She is as beautiful as I remember!

As the carriage rounded a corner and she was lost to his sight Bingley sighed and leaned back against the seat. Forget her? How could I forget her? She has lived in my heart for all these months, years! Her image remained in his mind and the doubts began to assail him. I was fooled once into believing she loved me, though. Darcy was right. I could not be happy in a marriage where my wife did not return my affections. He thought of Georgiana, the way she looked at him, her obvious feelings in her eyes and in her touch. Bingley knew that he loved her as more than his friend’s sister. That Darcy was encouraging him, wanted this match for both Georgiana’s and Bingley’s sakes, did not necessarily make it easier. The young Miss Darcy had barely wet her feet in Society. She was an innocent. Bingley, however, did not feel as a lover should.

A stab of guilt shot through him. How could he accept Georgiana Darcy’s hand when his heart still belonged to Jane Bennet? Darcy expected it. Lady Sophia expected it. It was not that which would lead to Bingley’s eventual offer, however. He had not spent his time since Darcy’s marriage just idly puttering about town. His friend had given him plenty to think about by marrying Lady Sophia. Bingley had to acknowledge that his fears had been unfounded. Mr. and Mrs. Darcy had been the picture of civility and of domestic felicity. Georgiana had found no fault with her sister and at the same time had formed a strong and obvious attachment to her brother’s friend.

Bingley could not disappoint her. He could not hurt her. Whatever his feelings for Jane Bennet, at least Georgiana Darcy was a woman who loved him. That was very important to him and if Darcy had taught Charles Bingley one thing it was that a man can love and respect his wife without the messy entanglement of violent emotions getting in the way. The Darcys had quite a respectable marriage which Bingley could not but admire.

Yes, it was far more acceptable to him to marry a woman who loved him and whom he could grow to love than one who did not return his affections.

Jane’s sigh was barely perceptible. The carriage had gone and with it Mr. Bingley. There was no doubt that he had seen her, knew her, but he had not stopped. Did she wish he had? What would they have said to one another?

She stole a glance at her sister. How horrible for Lizzy to see Mr. Darcy after all this time! After all that had passed between them and what has happened since to Lydia, to Papa, what she must be feeling! Jane reached for Elizabeth’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Her sympathy for Elizabeth’s feelings soon drove away all of the confusion and disappointment she had experienced at Bingley’s lack of acknowledgement. How painful it must be for her sister to see not only Mr. Darcy but such evidence of the familial happiness he had found after Elizabeth’s rejection of him. Surely that wounded deeply!

There had been no mistaking the pride and affection of the new father. Nor had Jane failed to notice the easy address of the lady who was most likely his wife, an attractive and apparently pleasant woman. Jane also had the misfortune, however, to witness the undisguised adoration for Mr. Bingley exhibited by the second young lady in the group whenever she looked at him. This was not something upon which she could gaze with any composure. There eventually descended a warm gratitude that the man who could not love herself was able to discover love elsewhere.

The generosity of Jane’s heart was responsible for her ability to focus entirely on Elizabeth’s discomfiture, disregarding her own.

Thus the two sisters sat on a bench in a London park, comforting one another for what might have been but was not.

“Jane! Jane!” The excited voice brought more than just Jane into the hall. Mrs. Gardiner and three of the children also appeared. Elizabeth was breathless. “Oh, I have such news!”

“You have found a position!” Mrs. Gardiner cried, rushing toward her niece and laughing delightedly.

“I think so,” Elizabeth replied, her cheeks coloured with her excitement. “My interview went very well. There were three to question me and I was so nervous! Mr. Grant, of the agency, expressed his own opinion that I will be chosen for the position.”

“Oh, Lizzy.” Jane bit her lip, happiness for her sister warring with the certain knowledge that this would be their separation. “When?”

Elizabeth’s eyes were apologetic. “I may receive a letter as early as tomorrow and I must be prepared to start by the end of next week.”

“So soon!” Mrs. Gardiner took hold of Elizabeth’s arm. “If you need anything at all to supplement your wardrobe, your personal things, just ask. I will not have you leaving here wanting.”

Smiling her thanks, Elizabeth gratefully accepted the offer. “Now I must go and make sure there is nothing amiss in my wardrobe. I won’t have much time should I need to acquire anything before leaving. That is, if I am fortunate enough to get the position!” She hurried upstairs, her relations watching her with a mixture of happiness and sadness.

“Come in, Bingley.” Darcy gestured to an empty chair beside him. “Sit down. Would you like a drink?” Without waiting for any reply he poured a large glass of brandy and handed it to his friend. “You said you would like some advice from me. How may I help you?”

Looking down into his glass, Bingley put it aside on the table and faced the other man. “Caroline has had an offer of marriage from George Ormond.” Darcy’s eyebrow rose imperceptibly but he said nothing. “I realise that it is a good match. My sister is not young anymore, at least not young enough to compete with the debutantes every Season. Oh, I am not saying this very well at all.”

“What are you trying to say?” Darcy drily asked.

“My father left provisions for Caroline’s dowry in his will, made all the arrangements before he died. I know that it would never have entered his mind that she would not have married in her first Season. Louisa was barely out when Hurst snapped her up. Caroline should have been the same.”

Darcy’s eyebrow rose further. “That is neither here nor there. Ormond has made an offer and I take it your sister has accepted. What is the problem? You are not thinking of refusing permission, are you?”

Bingley looked aghast. “Good God, no! It’s just.. I wondered.. Is there something more that I should be providing for her? I mean, she’s not in her first blush of youth and... um....”

The eyebrow lowered and a hand came up to hide the smile on Darcy’s face. “Charles, Ormond has offered and been accepted by both his prospective bride and yourself. This is not a case of bargaining for used goods. As you said, the match is a good one. It is good on both sides. There is no reason to sweeten the pot, as it were. Leave it in the hands of your legal advisors to work out the relevant details.”

Bingley breathed a sigh of relief and picked up his glass once more. “Thank you, Darcy. I do appreciate your help.” He drank some of the brandy and then held the glass between his hands. “I’d like your permission to marry Georgiana.”

Darcy’s voice was quiet in response. “I did have a suspicion that you may ask that soon.”

“You saw her, too. In the park after Edwin’s christening.”

“Yes,” nodded Darcy. “I wasn’t entirely sure how you would react.”

“I understand, now, what you have been trying to tell me all this time. I won’t lie to you. My feelings for Georgiana are not what they were.... still are for Jane Bennet.” Bingley rose from his seat and crossed the room to pour more brandy. “I do care for her and respect her, though. I will treat her well.”

“I would never doubt that,” Darcy replied softly. “Georgiana is very much in love with you.”

His friend’s smile returned. “I know. For that reason alone I know that she will make me happy and I will do everything in my power to make sure Georgiana is happy, too.”

Rising from his own seat, Darcy moved to stand beside Bingley and placed a hand on his shoulder. “There is no need to convince me. You have my wholehearted approval and my permission. Have you asked Georgie?”

“Yes.” Bingley’s grin became silly.

“What are we doing in here, then?” Darcy laughed. “A celebration is called for.”

Lady Sophia Darcy sat down to her writing table and looked through the correspondence that lay in a neat stack to one side. One caught her eye and she peered closer at the identification of the sender. The letter opener was within easy reach, a matter of seconds and the seal was broken. The contents did not dismay her although they were unexpected. She had just finished reading the letter when her husband appeared in the entrance to the room.

“Am I disturbing you?” he asked. There was a suggestion of a smile tugging at his mouth.

“No,” Mrs. Darcy said lightly. “You seem pleased with yourself.”

Darcy ventured further into the room and took up a position at the end of the table. “I am. Bingley has just asked for Georgiana’s hand.”

“Oh, I am happy for them! Congratulations, my dear.” Sophia stood up to place a kiss on her husband’s cheek. “Everything has gone according to your plan.”

“My plan? No, although I admit that I have long wished for such a match for my sister.” He glanced at the letter still in his wife’s hand. “Oh, I have interrupted something. When you have finished please come down to celebrate Georgiana and Bingley’s news.”

“It is nothing,” she said, tossing the letter onto the table. “Well, nothing that can’t wait. It is a letter from the Hudson estate trustees. They have selected a suitable governess for my son and assure me that she will arrive before the end of next week.”

Darcy frowned. “You knew nothing of this before now?”

“It was mentioned when the trustees took over after Hudson’s death and I was reminded before our marriage took place that they have sole discretionary power over Robert’s education.” Sophia shook her head. “I am sure the young lady will be eminently suitable. If so, she may even be acceptable to educate our own son, too. But enough about this. Let us go down and partake of Georgiana’s happiness. I am sure she is eager to discuss her dream wedding.”

“Those details I shall leave to you, my dear!”

Linking an arm through her husband’s, Lady Sophia put aside the concerns of her correspondence in favour of more pleasant occupation.

Book Two: A Fallen Leaf

Part One

Posted on Sunday, 7 May 2006

Lady Sophia Darcy sighed in frustration. Everything had been meticulously planned, nothing forgotten; nothing except the fact that her son’s governess was due to arrive this day and she had done almost nothing to prepare. She rang the bell for the housekeeper to attend her with the intention of instructing that the servants prepare the suite of rooms set aside in the nursery for the new arrival’s use. The rooms themselves had been cleaned and decorated and only the last minute details were required.

“Mrs. Fletcher,” she said upon the woman’s appearance. “I hate to disturb the preparations for Miss Darcy’s ball tonight but I neglected to tell you that the new governess will be here today. I only hope she has the sense to come in the back entrance when all the guests are assembled.” The housekeeper soothed her mistress by saying no servant would presume to use any other door. “I would normally agree but I did not hire this woman, nor have I met her. Oh, I’m sure she will be fine,” Sophia finally conceded. “I’m not accustomed to being so disorganised. Please take care of this for me, Mrs. Fletcher. Thank you.” The servant curtseyed and left the room, hurrying down the back stairs to the kitchen to retrieve two of the maids who were polishing the silver.

Sophia sighed again. If this matter were in her control she would have put the governess off for another week, enough time for Georgiana and Bingley’s engagement to be celebrated without such a mundane interruption inconveniencing the household. An extra week would also allow her husband to escape to the North after the heavy social schedule he’d been obliged to suffer of late, and to attend to his own estate matters there. That would leave Sophia alone with her two sons, the opportunity to find out just who this woman was that the trustees had hired as governess to her eldest, and to determine if she was, indeed, suitable in case a replacement would be required. Should that be necessary it would be best resolved before her husband’s return.

Darcy disliked having to dismiss servants.

The blending of two households after their marriage the previous year had fortunately been spared this unpleasant task. At first, they lived in the Darcy townhouse; Sophia guided Georgiana through the difficult year leading up to her launch into Society while the home of her first husband was kept staffed until such time as they decided on a more permanent arrangement. As it turned out, Sophia soon found herself expecting a child and the decision was easily agreed upon; the Hudson home would be redecorated to accommodate the family and the new baby while Georgiana would remain with Mrs. Annesley in the home she was used to. With Bingley’s recent proposal Darcy had revealed further plans in that he had provided for the transfer of the Darcy London house to Georgiana’s dowry settlement, thereby ensuring the young couple would start out with their own home and also be near at hand. Her brother would never completely let go of his sense of responsibility for her welfare.

Shaking off these musings, Lady Sophia bent her head to her current task; last minute changes to the seating arrangements for the evening’s dinner which was likely to keep her busy until it was time to change for the ball itself.

“Would you like me to carry your things to the door, Lizzy?”

Elizabeth Bennet looked at her uncle and shook her head. “No, thank you.” She took a deep breath. “I am grateful for your offer to drive me here. It was foolish of me to think I should come on my own.” Reaching out to take his hand, she gave it a squeeze, the only sign of nervousness she would allow herself to show.

Mr. Gardiner examined the house where his niece would shortly be living and working. “It is an impressive property! I understand that his late Lordship was in the middle of having it remodelled when he was killed in Spain.”

Elizabeth knew nothing about the house and little about the man whose son she was about to take responsibility for educating. What she did know was that the boy had been no more than a babe when his father died and would have no memories of him. This in itself saddened her for her own loss was recent enough to continue to give her pain. Her uncle continued to make small talk while Elizabeth gathered up her belongings. When she at last turned to him for a final goodbye both had tears in their eyes.

“Come to us, Lizzy. Anytime.” Mr. Gardiner took her hand and pressed an envelope into it. “Just something from your aunt and myself to help you when you need it.”

Five minutes later Elizabeth found herself staring at the closed door which would be her entry into a new life. Head high, she rapped on the wooden surface and waited. She could hear a brief commotion from within and then the door opened inward, a harried young footman peering out at her.

“Yes?” he impatiently enquired.

“I am Miss Bennet,” Elizabeth introduced herself. “The new governess.”

“Well, don’t just stand there, lassie!” cried a woman’s voice from within. “There’s no time for hanging about, Frederick. Get about your business and leave the lass to me.” A short, round woman with flushed cheeks stepped toward Elizabeth and proceeded to give her a quick appraisal. “You’ve arrived at a very busy time, Miss...”

“Bennet.”

“McAuley’s my name. Bridget McAuley. Tonight’s a large dinner and ball to celebrate the engagement of the Master’s sister. There’s nobody with nothing to do at the moment but I’ll find someone to show you to your rooms and then one of the lads can take your bags up later on, if you don’t mind.” She waved a hand at a young girl peeling carrots at a table. “Sally, come show Miss Bennet upstairs to the nursery. Quickly!”

Sally wiped her hands on an apron tied at her waist, dropped a simple curtsey before the new governess and led her to the back stairs. Elizabeth followed her up the darkened path, occasionally tripping on the worn steps. They reached the top landing where Sally opened a door onto a brightly lit hallway. Elizabeth blinked at the contrast and hurried to catch up with the young girl as she continued past several doors to the end of the hall. At the final door she stopped and quietly knocked upon it. A soft voice could be heard in reply, although Elizabeth was unable to discern what was said. Sally turned the knob and entered, motioning her companion forward.

The room was large, apparently having recently been turned into a schoolroom. Elizabeth’s eyes quickly took in the new furniture and fresh paper on the walls before they came to rest on a woman seated in a rocking chair, holding an infant in her arms.

“Please excuse me for not getting up,” she said. “He’s just fallen asleep and I don’t wish to disturb him. You must be Miss Bennet, the new governess. I’m Anna Cahill.”

“I am pleased to meet you.” Elizabeth moved forward for a closer look at the baby. Asleep, his tiny mouth formed a petulant pout in his otherwise angelic face. “What a lovely child! I thought there was only to be the young master in the house. Are there any more children?”

“No. Not yet, at any rate,” added Miss Cahill, a twinkle in her eye. “I have been nursemaid to young Master Robert almost since he was born and now to little Master Edwin. I would not be surprised to see the arrival of one or two more babies in the coming years. Lady Sophia would not deny the Master anything and it’s clear he would like more than one child of his own.”

Elizabeth was uncomfortable with this gossipy information and quickly sought to change the direction of their conversation. “Where is the young man now?” She referred to her new charge but the nursemaid apparently misunderstood.

“Oh, I should think he’s getting ready for this evening’s ball. There is to be a big celebration tonight as the Master’s sister has become engaged.”

Resisting the urge to express her distaste with the servant’s continued gossip, Elizabeth stiffly replied, “Yes, I do recall Mrs. McAuley mentioning that when I arrived. However, I meant Master Robert. I would like to meet him.”

Anna laughed, causing the infant to squirm as he was disturbed by the sound. “Oh, my! Well, he’s having his dinner before all the fuss begins downstairs. One of the under housemaids is tending to him. We didn’t expect you until later on.” She watched as Elizabeth removed her shawl and began to look around the rooms. “My room is the one on the left, there. You will have to make do with the smaller one, I’m afraid. I had Frederick move a second cradle into my room for the nights when Master Edwin is fussy. Saves me a step or two when he wakes me up in the wee hours.”

“Is he often fussy?” The possibility that her own sleep might also be disturbed by a crying baby occurred to Elizabeth. This was all new to her but she did not want to disappoint anyone by failing in her duties, least of all herself. A good night’s sleep would be important and if Miss Cahill was less than prompt in responding where her own obligations lay, then Elizabeth knew her own sense of responsibility would not let her ignore the infant’s needs.

“No, he’s not fussy, really. No more so than most babies.” Casting an appraising glance at the new governess’s gown, Miss Cahill pursed her lips. “Is that what you will be wearing?”

Elizabeth looked down at her old dress. Aunt Gardiner had freshened it up as best she could but it was still reminiscent of a style well out of date. “My bags have not been brought up here yet. I have more appropriate clothing to unpack.”

Anna clucked her tongue. “Bah! I’ll twist Frederick’s ear, don’t you worry. He’ll bring them up straight away. He’s not so busy that he can’t take two minutes for that simple job.” She left the rocking chair and held out the baby to Elizabeth. “Here, take him and I’ll just nip downstairs and before you know it, you’ll have your things in your room.”

Instinctively, Elizabeth accepted the child and was soon left alone to wonder what kind of life she could expect in this household.

“Mrs. Fletcher, please send the new governess down to me. I have a few minutes before the guests begin to arrive. I’d like to get this interview over with.” Lady Sophia did not watch the servant leave and thus failed to notice her husband enter the room as Mrs. Fletcher opened the door.

Darcy admired his wife before approaching where she sat at the dressing table. He leaned down to place his lips against the back of her neck, catching her gaze in the mirror’s image and pausing before completing the movement. Sophia’s slight frown bespoke distraction. “Do you require more time before we go downstairs?”

Sophia’s smile was forced. “You go on ahead of me. I have sent for Robert’s governess. I want to meet the girl before she takes Robert under her care and before you say a thing, I know I have no choice in the matter but I will feel much better having at least seen her face before my son is placed under her jurisdiction.”

Chuckling, Darcy bestowed the kiss he had intended at the nape of his wife’s neck. “Just last week you were ready to place Edwin into her hands, as well. I trust in your judgement, my dear. If you think her unable to perform the job satisfactorily then we will find a way to have her removed. Just be sure you give her enough time to show you that she’s capable.”

“Or incapable.”

“Able to take orders and execute them,” added Darcy with a serious expression.

“You are right, as usual,” she sighed. “I am too quick to judge. You have told me that time and again yet I cannot find a way to circumvent my expectations that servants know what I want before I know it myself. Have you always been so successful in assigning your staff?”

“No, but the staff I have in the positions of greatest authority know what I expect and that is what makes the difference. They ensure that the others learn quickly and without any disturbance, above or below stairs.” He brought his lips close to her ear, whispering, “Maintain your distance, Mrs. Darcy. If she is competent, she will keep to her place and your worries will be for nothing.”

“If she is competent,” repeated Sophia. “I’m sure she is but as a mother I have the right to be less objective.”

“As a Lady and my wife you have the duty to be more objective,” corrected Darcy. “Please remember that the future employability of a servant depends upon your objectivity. Dismissal virtually guarantees there will be no respectable position offered for her. Unless she is morally unfit for the position there is no excuse for condemning her to such a fate.”

“Once again you remind me of the very high standards you set for yourself and everyone around you.” As much as she admired her husband, Lady Sophia found this aspect of his personality overbearing at times. “I shall try to live up to those standards, Fitzwilliam.”

“I would not have married you had you not already met them, my dear.” His lips brushed against her cheek. “I will see you downstairs in fifteen minutes.”

Sophia observed his immaculately attired form disappear beyond the doorway connecting to his chambers. He cut a striking figure and she was perfectly aware of how many ladies of their acquaintance envied her position. There were few, if any, who could tolerate his fastidious preferences, however. She considered herself fortunate to be one of those few with the added benefit of nurturing a warm regard for the man. It made life so much more agreeable on a personal level.

A soft knock on the door interrupted her pleasant musings. “Come,” she called, bringing her mind back to the task at hand. Without rising from her seat, she turned to face the young woman who now entered the room with Mrs. Fletcher.

“Miss Bennet, my Lady,” announced the elder servant who curtseyed and immediately left.

Mrs. Darcy took a moment to study what appeared to be no more than a girl. “How old are you?” she finally asked.

Surprise was quickly disguised in Miss Bennet’s features but not before Lady Sophia recognised it. “Twenty-three, my Lady.”

“Rather young for a governess. I presume you have no prior experience in the post.” Sophia did not wait for a response. “Have you been introduced to my son, yet?”

“Yes, my Lady, Lord Robert and Master Edwin both.” Elizabeth was finding it difficult to swallow her indignation at the tone in the other woman’s voice.

“And you have been apprised of the routine in the house?” When Elizabeth answered in the affirmative Lady Sophia continued. “Good. I shall expect to see Robert before he goes to bed this evening. Although I may be busy with guests you will send one of the footmen in to inform me when he is ready so that I may say goodnight.”

Once again Elizabeth’s eyes registered surprise. “Yes, my Lady.”

“Very well. We shall speak at length tomorrow. You may go now.” With that, Lady Sophia turned again to her mirror which afforded a view of the young woman’s departing back.

Once in the relative privacy of her own room Elizabeth attempted to cool her anger. Frustration, shame and loneliness tormented her. Never had she felt so humiliated! Having convinced herself that she could bear the life of a governess, however little it was above the station of a common servant, the reality of her position intruded forcefully in the person of Lady Sophia. There was no point in entertaining fantasies of finding a better position. How much better could she expect? Lady Sophia was hardly a tyrant and one brief meeting was not enough to judge her accurately. Elizabeth had learned a hard lesson in that arena!

One thing in the Lady’s favour was that she clearly had a professed interest in her children, more so than the average woman of her station. How many would have allowed an interruption of an evening’s social obligations to bid goodnight to her offspring?

Elizabeth wiped away the angry tears and readied herself to join Miss Cahill in the nursery. There she would begin introducing his young Lordship to his new regimen in the last hour before he was to retire. Immersing herself in work was the quickest way to put her troubles out of mind. Miss Cahill looked up when she entered. The baby was in a cradle at her feet, happily gurgling away, while his nurse applied a needle to the repair of a garment.

“What did you think of her Ladyship?” Miss Cahill quickly enquired.

Elizabeth had anticipated such a question and therefore had a ready answer. “I really didn’t have enough time with her to form an opinion but I’m sure she feels the same way about me.”

“Oh, you’ll like the Mistress,” the other woman said dismissively. “Everybody does.”

Elizabeth’s curiosity was piqued despite her better judgement. “What is the Master like?”

Anna Cahill’s eyes grew round with excitement. “Ooh, miss! He is a treat for the eyes! But to be honest, he’s firm but fair. You’ll hear not one complaint from any of us about the Master.”

This was reassuring at least and Elizabeth found herself feeling more confident about her decision to accept the position. Noticing the time on the clock she began preparations for her young charge’s return to the nursery. He must be bathed and readied for bed before she could signal the footman to show her the way downstairs.

“Well? What is your verdict?” Darcy asked in a low voice between greeting the arrivals.

Lady Sophia smiled and welcomed another couple before an opportunity arose to reply. “She is very young but I suppose she will do. For now.” She smiled again. “Ah, Lady Warrington, what a delight to see you.”

When all the guests were assembled, Darcy and Lady Sophia parted company to do their hosting duties amongst the crowd. Georgiana was the centre of attention, naturally, and her face glowed with happiness. Bingley stayed close beside her, accepting congratulations and good wishes with his characteristic modesty. Darcy’s pride swelled with satisfaction as he observed his wife in flawless execution of her duties. He had made an excellent choice for himself, his son was a focal point for him now, and he had secured the finest match he could imagine for Georgiana. His parents would no doubt have approved it all.

Lady Sophia sought out her husband a few moments later, finding him deep in conversation with some of the gentlemen. Politics held little interest for her and Napoleon even less. Losing her first husband to that cause had spoiled any chance of appreciation for the subject. Managing to attract Darcy’s attention, she conveyed to him the information that she would be absenting herself for a few moments to see Robert off to bed. Darcy nodded his understanding and returned to the discussion, his wife quickly navigating the room toward the doorway which would lead to the front hall. The footman was waiting to lead the way to the small anteroom which used to serve as her late husband’s study. Darcy had complied with her wishes that it not be disturbed and chose another room from which to do his work. It was here that she preferred to spend those few minutes with her son before he was put to bed for the night. The decor had not been altered; portraits of the late Robert Hudson looked down from the panelled walls.

The footman opened the door and stood aside for his Lady to enter. Miss Bennet and Robert were already inside, the former sitting with the youngster on her lap while paging through a simple child’s book. Upon seeing her Ladyship arrive, Elizabeth hurriedly rose from her chair, gently placing the boy on his feet. Catching sight of his mother, Robert rushed toward her in all his childlike enthusiasm. Elizabeth at first feared for her reaction; dressed in her evening finery, she was not equipped to fend off the excited lad. Lady Sophia, however, welcomed him with open arms, bending down to draw him into a warm embrace. Elizabeth stood a discreet distance away while mother and son enjoyed this brief exchange. This afforded her an opportunity to take in her surroundings. Assuming that the portraits were of the current Master of the house, she gazed upon them with a curiosity fuelled by Miss Cahill’s report of the man’s handsomeness. He was, indeed, handsome but not enough to turn her own head. As soon as the thought was formed, Elizabeth felt amusement for it bore so close a resemblance to Mr. Darcy’s long ago remark at the Meryton Assembly. It had been many months since she had last devoted any time to resenting him for the insult.

Feeling she had spent too much time gawking, Elizabeth returned her attention to Lady Sophia and her son. The Lady was just kissing him on the cheek and encouraging his attention in Miss Bennet’s direction.

“I must return to my guests now, Robby. Mind Miss Bennet and go straight to bed without complaint.” The little boy dutifully scampered back to Elizabeth, taking her hand and allowing himself to be led from the room.

Lady Sophia took a few moments to smooth the creases in her skirt before she surveyed the images of her late husband, something she did every night. His death had left a scar on her heart. Theirs had been a true romance from the time they had first met, no other able to intrude upon their love for one another. No objections could be raised to the match as Sophia’s father held title to an earldom in the north, not so very far from Hudson’s own estate. The first years of their married life were happy and blissfully free of concern for anything beyond the walls of their own home. The arrival of their son had brought even more joy.

Sophia sighed. It all seemed so long ago yet that baby was not yet five years of age.

Reminding herself of her current obligations, Mrs. Darcy returned to the ballroom.

Elizabeth was happy to be able to use the main stairs instead of the dark passageway she had earlier climbed with the young kitchen maid. It was, thankfully, distant enough from that part of the house which was at the moment filled with guests, although the sounds of their voices carried well up to the floors above. As she passed the landing which led to the servants’ stair, Master Robert firmly clinging to her hand, she caught sight of three young maids as they scurried down the corridor. Their voices were hushed but even with the other noises coming from below Elizabeth could easily discern their excited conversation. They were, apparently, bent on obtaining access to a discreet vantage point from which they could observe the assembled peerage without being seen themselves. It was a common practice in many a fine house, as Elizabeth knew full well, yet to experience from the point of view of a servant held no attraction. On the contrary, her spirits sank into a depression and she hurried the rest of the way to the nursery, intent on gaining its sanctuary before encountering anyone else.

It was easy enough to keep her mind occupied in settling the young boy into bed. Elizabeth read to him and answered his numerous questions, all curiosity about his new caretaker, until his eyes grew too tired to remain open. Tucking the blankets around his sleeping form, she left the door ajar so that she could hear him if he called during the night. In the outer room sat Anna Cahill, her eyes quickly fixing on Elizabeth’s face in quiet excitement.

“Are you coming down to the gallery to watch the dancing?” she eagerly enquired. Astonished that the nurse would leave her post for such a thing, Elizabeth shook her head, which only served to further satisfy Miss Cahill. “Would you be a dear and watch the baby while I slip out for a few minutes? I do love to see all the fancy dresses and the gentlemen in their smart clothing!”

The temptation to have some solitude in the cramped quarters compelled Elizabeth to grant the favour. Miss Cahill was gone in an instant, leaving her companion to feel the weight of her new life descend upon her shoulders. Her first thought was to check on the infant who was most likely asleep in one of the cots. As he was not in Miss Cahill’s chamber that left the baby’s own room to look into next, where she found him, as expected, soundly asleep. She left the door to this room ajar as well, then retreated to her own, no longer able to keep her feelings at bay.

Music from the ballroom could be heard even in this distant part of the house. It brought unbidden to her mind the images from the last ball she had attended. It had been a happier time, a time of promise, long before misfortune had taken hold of the Bennet family. Not for the first time did Elizabeth wonder how her life, and that of her entire family, might have been better if she had made different decisions. What if she had accepted Mr. Collins’ proposal? Her mother would not now be dependent upon her sister for a roof over her head. What of Mr. Darcy’s offer? Elizabeth was sure she would have been miserable; it prevented her from feeling anything like regret. After all, Mr. Darcy had proven that his heart was not really so deeply touched. In no time at all he had found another upon whom to bestow the honour of his hand.

The final unknown possibility was the most distasteful, however. Mr. Wickham had charmed all of Meryton, ladies and men alike. Even Elizabeth had not been immune. Often enough he had singled her out, his flattery warming her heart without any suspicion being awakened in her mind. She had even, in the privacy of her own thoughts, fancied herself in love with him despite knowing how fruitless that connection would be. If he had asked could she possibly have been persuaded, like her foolish sister Lydia, to run off with him? Under the impression that it was to be a romantic liaison, an elopement to Scotland, might her senses have abandoned her in the heat of the moment? Elizabeth still had no answer to that question. In her darkest moments it was easy enough to believe herself that weak and to accept the burden of blame for all her family’s troubles.

It was some time before she became aware of the baby’s cry from the other room. Guilt followed Elizabeth as she hurried to tend the infant; how long had he been crying? She gently removed him from his cot, holding his snuffling form close to keep him warm. Soothing him with soft words, she was pleased to see little Edwin was soon calm and settled once more. She held him a while longer to ensure that he was soundly sleeping, or so she told herself. In truth, he succeeded in distracting her from dwelling any longer on the unpleasant pictures of what might have been. Instead, Elizabeth’s imagination considered that her future might one day offer the opportunity to hold her own child in her arms as the music continued to fill the quiet air around her.

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